#Steve rogers one shot

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Wrong Turn ||

Pairing: Mountain Man Silver Fox Nomad!Steve Rogers | You. 

Trope: Neat and clean ‘civilized’ Princess-like young trophy wife X Filthy beast of a wild and scary man who only got her because he has the power. 

Description: In a desperate attempt to save your life from the wrath of the mountain people that your friends and you stumbled upon and accidentally killed on a hike gone wrong, you had to offer yourself up to their Leader to use as a ‘resource’. But little did your ‘husband’ know, you had been actively getting rid of his seed to avoid actually getting pregnant. Naturally, when he does find out, he is very unhappy… And also very determined to make sure you don't make it out of your punishment without a child, or two.

Warning(s): Dubcon, barbaric!Steve, breeding kink (gone wild), unprotected p-in-v, reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary, he has a wife bod kink (but it is inclusive), misogyny, smut with perhaps too much plot, fear kink, size kink, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, age gap, hair pulling, spanking, biting, allusions to painal and Steve being a teasing sicko about it but he doesn't actually penetrate, overstimulation, dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, boob play, squirting, Lloyd makes an appearance with his own young bride, dacryphilia (it's me), self degradation, Stevie is a perverted old meanie, infantilization, mind break.

Disclaimer: Very loosely based off of the movie that I do not own. You don't need to know it to read this piece but do note that it takes place in a fictional setting. Minors do not interact. 

Inspo-ish: This post.

Note: For someone who was on their period, I should not have been this horny. But I need this marriage, now. Ps, though this rotted in my drafts for a long time… in honor of Chris growing out his beard again, ig.

MASTERLIST

. . .

You have no idea how long it has been since that fateful twilight when everything changed in your life, leaving you to a lifestyle you could never have even imagined for yourself.  

“Eat up, woman” but as your barbarian of a husband commands you in his rough and animalistically deep voice, you cannot help but break out of your reverie and shudder at the sight of the barely cooked meat piled high on the platter in front of the two of you. “So you can bear me healthy children” although you're the one who was made to prepare his beastly dinner -that never fails to leave you aghast when it's gorged down- as you're his wife, you cannot help but gag under your breath and feel disgust for the loaves that sit before you in the company of a tall stone carved jug that brims full of the foul smelling mead that your husband is ardently fond of. 

You muster up your best coy smile. Keeping up the appearance of a happily mated pair is important. Or people stare. And then the old man becomes unpleasant. “I had quite a lot while I was cooking, dear” your lies sting your tongue out of the fear you feel of getting caught, but the mere hope of not doing so is better than eating this. “Y- You go ahead” you slowly turn in his muscle hardened lap, that you are always to sit on, to give him a small smile but your expression almost transforms into one of horror because of how wildly your heart jumps at the sight of his stern, predator-like face. You are quick to recover though, as it is a usual occurrence. 

“You need it. You work so hard—” there is just something about his rough looks that never fails to send a chill down your spine. You have never seen anything, let alone an actual human man like him before. 

A beard as thick as the very forest his people populate and as dark as the nights can get here in the absence of lanterns due to the heavy trees, age that streaks some of his gold locks with its silver has not marred the sternness of his jaw that remains firmly set under the heavy mane of his facial hair. His shoulders seem akin to the mountains that surround his village and his piercing dark eyes the mysterious waterfall that flows some way down south from the entrance of the settlement. The frightening mass of his shoulders is so toned that if the barely noticeable wrinkles that sometimes appear under the dark of his eyebrows and next to the crow-feather like lashes that frame his eyes, he can easily be mistaken for a man in his primeful late twenties and no older. His unrelenting strength and wolfish stamina would only further serve to bear testament to the misconception. 

Your strict husband bluntly catches your shaky hand that you extend in his direction to feed him some of the meat, the force that he uses coupled with the coarseness of his skin making you jump. You bite back a yelp and whimper when you look up at his dark blue eyes from where you were watching his bearded mouth to carefully place the food in.

“I don't care” Steve does not care much for being polite -unless it is you who disregards it in your behavior-, especially when it comes to you denying or diverting his ‘care’ for you. “You eat more” you bite back the scowl that threatens to break onto your face from how he turns your hand around in your direction instead. “Wives always need to eat more. They do so much at home for husband and children” he probably feels proud of these ‘values’ that have been transmitted to him by his elders. But all they make you want to do is to crack him across the jaw for being a misogynistic and backward shithead. Especially with you. 

Your ‘husband’ believes that everyone has a role to play; a contribution to make to their people and home. That is how this archaic village of theirs has survived in these mountains hidden away from the rest of the world for so long. 

The greasy piece of a disturbing excuse of a rare steak touches your lips and you've been here long enough to know better than to argue or worse yet, fight. So you smile and lean into his arm that cases your form against his through the embrace he holds you in from behind, his fingers playing with one of the many flowered braids your attending ladies had put in your hair a bit before his arrival at ‘home’. 

“O- Of course” you reluctantly open your open and grip your flowy dressing gown for a semblance of support for your sanity, taking the smallest bite you can -which is still a lot as the man pushes nearly the whole piece into your mouth the moment you open up- as you keep your eyes trained on his to avoid looking down. Your mind always becomes more aware of the taste when you look. “Thank you, dear” you focus on swallowing it without gagging and feel your smile split in places because of how uncomfortable you are.

He probably notices it because he slightly raises one eyebrow and snorts before hugging your smaller form -that is tiny compared to his- closer and puts the rest of the piece in his own mouth. If there is one thing you have learnt in your time with him, it's that you can never fool him. Not really. No matter how well you may think you have lied or pretended, he always sees through it. 

Sometimes you suspect he even enjoys it.

Steve finally begins to eat himself, silently offering you another piece that you politely reject by shaking your head and then quickly pressing an apologetic kiss to his scruffy cheek to lighten the blow. Apparently, a wife can never be polite enough to her husband. And though the change in his expression begins with an unhappy frown, your show of ‘affection’ seems to suffice him and he relaxes in satisfaction, now looking down the long table and at his clansmen and maidens that sit enjoying their dinner, their chatter and laughter a dull roar in the large eating hall of the Leader's dwelling. You pick up the heavy jug of mead with both your hands and obediently hold it to his lips to sip from. Steve looks away from what one of his main men are saying and gulps down a mouthful, rubbing your back as a gesture for thanks before moving his hand quickly down to squeeze your ass to heighten the effect of his expression of gratitude. 

His form shakes in mirth when you yelp and blush. He knows how embarrassing you find being openly ‘affectionate’ in front of people and that is one of the reasons why he enjoys it so much besides showing off that a thing of such beauty and youth like you is all his. You rest the jug between your boobs that he has fucked and squeezed into increasing in size and use your other hand to gently finger and stroke his golden locks that he keeps pushed away from his face outside the bedroom. Though he says nothing, you feel his usually vigilant and always firm stature slowly soften and you cannot help but smile, though what he says next quickly deflates it.

“Do you feel any change in you, wife?” You know what it means and now it's you who becomes tense. He only uses that name for you when he speaks to you as a husband inquiring about your marital matters. “Has my seed attached to your womb yet? Does it grow there?” You gulp and feign shyness, moving closer to his hair and nuzzling yourself in him. “Hm?” He closes his hugging arm around you and reaches for your stomach, fingers groping your covered skin as gently as he can -which isn't much- to feel it. “Answer me” he demands when you refuse to speak. 

“I… I don't know, husband” you always promise yourself that you'll demand more rights for yourself; ask him to treat you like the other husbands treat their wives, only to fail the minute he enters your vicinity. 

“What does that mean?” His tone turns blunt and you whimper at the tightness that snaps back in place between his shoulders. 

You get it.

That was the deal, after all. 

Healthy children in exchange for your life that was required by their judicial laws for bearing false witness to your friend accidentally killing one of their people in mistaken defense. Steve had promised you before accepting you as a citizen that if you failed to fulfill your task you'd walk the darkness in the dungeons. He had shown you how it would be before declaring you a member of their tribe and the sight you had seen was something that had given you nightmares for days. 

But that did not mean you actually wanted to have your old captor's children.

You doubted it would ever be something you'd look forward to.

“I- I mean” regret shoots up your spine in the form of fear and you lose your speech to it momentarily. But then two of your main attending ladies -by that you mean Steve's top agents when it comes to you- enter the horizon of your sight and you hurriedly blubber out the first thing that comes to your mind. “I've n- never been pregnant before, s-o I d- don't know how to…” Your husband turns to look at you, his handsome features twisting into a rogue scowl but before he can scold you, one of the two ladies, Kaira, speaks in their language to Steve. 

Not everyone here can speak English and those who do speak it do so a rather odd version of it. Naturally, you don't speak their language and so they give you the full experience of an outsider when they need to discuss the business they want to keep private from you. The thought makes you want to laugh, like you'd be able to do something with whatever informations they withhold.

But it doesn't really bother you, because you don't care.

You've also learnt that ignorance is bliss here. 

Especially for someone like you.

Better to be the doe eyed trophy wife of an angel who can't tell her head from her ass.

“Is that so?” Your heart jumps when Steve chooses to speak English. That means that this definitely concerns you. You place the mead down and wrap one arm around his broad shoulders before nervously combing his thick beard with your other hand. Since you have no interest in or desire to learn their language, the only word you manage to pick up on when you focus really hard is ‘baby’ and that is solely because of the annoying amount of times it comes up for you. 

“Is not this strange?” He speaks once the women step back after finally ending the nerve wracking conversation that seems to go on forever. “Do you hear what they say about you, little one?” Fuck, you're definitely in trouble. 

He is reminding you of your place. 

You put on your best charming smile but you're painfully aware that your nervousness gives it away. You can feel it. “W- What do they say, dear?” They were such bitches. They knew how to speak English, that's why they were your attendants, but yet they chose not to. And now they were glaring at you like you weren't above them— oh no, not these thoughts again. You will never become like them! No, no! 

Steve pushes his plate away now. Your head spins from the realization. It's only half finished. Your husband never wastes his food. It is a near sin for them to do so. “They tell me the most odd things” oh just fucking tell me! You mentally scream but outwardly tilt your head to the side in confusion, your chest vibrating with the rising beats of your heart. “And now that I think about it myself…” His fingers wrap around the mead before he raises it to his lips. “I see the—”

“What did they say, Steve?” Your mouth works faster than your better sense and he pauses mid sip, dark blue eyes flickering up from the stone jug to look at you. Your face flushes a noticeable hot and your ears get sweaty from the awareness. 

Fuck. 

“They say you've been getting rid of my seed” he feels played and thus angry at the both of you. Perhaps more so towards himself than you; his silly little child-wife. How could he let a thing as tender and small as you fool him so? “... Do you?” It is obvious you are guilty. Besides, he is confident that his people would never lie to him unlike one young and beautiful girl that he had found kneeling in front of him in his court while bawling her eyes out one fateful night, fear stricken as his people surrounded him like a doe trapped. 

And of course, your expressions and reactions don't help your case, as always. “W- What? No…” Your mind becomes erratic.

“No?” He himself knows not what kind of a chance he offers you with that. But typical to your nature, you make it easy for him by refusing it.

“N- No! Of course not! W- Why would I ever do such a thing to m- my husb- hubby and my b- babies?!” Steve has to clench down his scoff. 

“You wouldn't, would you?” Your naivete never fails to amuse him.

“No! I- I don't know why they accuse me so—” you mend your speech from the archaic form that tries to leech to it everyday. “I don't know why they would accuse me of that but they must be mistaken! This is a misunderstanding!” 

He hums. “I see…” His scarred fingers begin to toy with your braids again. “So you remain devoted to me and faithful to our family, don't you?”

“Of course!” You nuzzle closer to him, your heart thundering into his chest. “I don't know why they still treat me like an outsider” you purr as you nervously stroke his hair, playing a card of your own and making an absolute fool of yourself by doing so. “I try my best… like I promised.” 

“Yes, your promise” his distant eyes -they get like that when you disappoint him and you hate the sight because it never fares well for you- travel down to your empty stomach. His gaze makes it wrench. Your fear skyrockets at the same rate as your anger. If only there was a way for you to get back at those bitches without having to give birth!

“I- It takes time sometimes, dear…” You hug his shoulders with one arm. “But it will happen. I know it…” Your other hand reaches for his fingers that rest on your abdomen now. 

“Oh?” Steve raises one dark eyebrow at you. His hair is the most fascinating combination of blonde and dark brown. “Is that what your modern day sciences say?” His people were not always like this, he had told you. They did not originate from here. Rather, some families had abandoned ‘civilization’ when it was going to hell -in his words- by killing each other for meaningless constructs such as caste, creed and color differences and migrated up here to establish a system of their own; one free from such nonsense. 

Apparently.

You take a deep breath. “Stevie—” you only call him that when you find yourself dangerously close to the dungeons.

“If that is what you believe in, wife,” he never cuts you off. Usually, that is. His age that streaks his blonde strands with its silver ones has granted him enough patience. Normally, he waits for the other person -who is most often you- to mess up themselves. But whatever the ladies have told him seems to agitate him into rebelling against his own nature today. “I'll do it your way. After all, happy wife happy life, is that not what you tell me often?” Okay, you might have said that during a particularly cocky moment in bed once. 

But the intention behind that had not been nearly whatever he is moving towards now. 

“Y- You don't have to, l- love…” You nervously giggle. “You're perfect the way you are” you run your nails that he insists you keep trimmed for hygienic -as if- and practical purposes through his silver-blonde hair.

“Oh no…” Now he pushes his food farther away. “I will indulge you, little one” he moves your other leg over his laps so now you face the people down the table with both of your legs on either sides of his, ass to his… fuck. “Time conspires against us, and so we must make haste.”

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps up in your throat. “M- My love?!” 

Steve moves your flowy gown out of his way, keeping a firm hold on one of your thighs even though he doesn't really have to. Your fear of him would never let you attempt an escape. “Yes, my stars” the name is so full of sarcasm it nearly pierces you open. “Let us leave time to its devices, and us ours” your husband is usually a very possessive and private man when it comes to you, but his ire seems to get the better of him today. You hear the buckle of his own clothes come undone. The table goes silent and heads turn in your direction once they realize what's going on. Oh no… Your stomach drops. Not in front of everyone. Not when Steve makes you so vulnerable in that condition. Not in front of these lowlifes!

“Husb—” blood bubbles hot under your cheeks as you feel him align himself against you. 

Holy shit.

You feel one of his coarse hands wrap around your throat and he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can whisper in your ear. “You will contribute, my stubborn little wife,” you whimper from the menace his words hold, your well trained cunt obediently squelching open against his thick hard tip as he lowers you on his cock with the hold he has on your thigh. “Whether you like it, or not” sometimes, deep down, you fear that the dungeons are not an option anymore. 

He keeps you in the horizons of his sight too much for them to be. 

It appears as though the sentence has changed. 

It is now Steve, or Steve.

You cry out from the strain his log-like girth puts on the narrow band of your entrance. God. You will never get used to his size regardless of how many times and ways he tames your pussy in. Yes, it does not refuse him or rip around him now as it used to in the beginning -and it did that for a long time- but the size to which his cock makes it expand is like a mini-birth. Feels like it, looks like it. Only, it feels way too good. And that's why you don't mind it—

No. You don't know what that was or meant. But you don't take responsibility for that thought!

“Oh!” The balmy velvet of your cavern grazes down the bulging veins and hard skin of the brute's cock until your petals squish against his heavy and very eager balls. Your head spins when you feel his tip tickle your cervix. It never takes his dick long to find it.  

His hands are pushing you back up almost instantly so he can slide you back down. You look anywhere but at the tens of faces in front of you, instead choosing to look at the wall on the opposite side of the table. You never thought these people were capable of being this quiet until now when your pussy makes an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as Steve tugs you back to his leaking tip and then allows gravity to suck you back down. You desperately bite your lips and try to focus on ignoring the way your insides are beginning to thrum with the excitement and stimulation; to show these brutes that you're better than them and aren't some animal of nature. But to no avail. His slimy precum mixes too well with yours, the rough skin of his hands digs into your thighs too well and the manner in which your petals rub against his cock when he lifts you yet again -now forming a momentum- before letting you slide in again is too much for you mask with nonchalance. 

Indifference has never been among your strong suits.

“Tell me, my pretty” Steve begins again, his dark eyes now finding the young and hormonal pack of unsuspecting boys who clearly do not know better. “Have you ever had a cock like mine?” He says it in their own language so the foolish miscreants see, understand and learn the fact that you’re only his. You belong to him and he will go to war for you, not that a pack of rug rats will ever be a cause of worry for him. “Has anyone ever fucked you as good as I do?” He switches back to the language you understand, roughly fumbling for your jaw before he grabs it and bounces his hips into yours at the same time. 

Your traitorous legs have begun to do what they always do; fuck yourself against him -if he hasn’t bound you, which he hasn’t- in whatever position he has you. You only realize that your breathing has become heavier when you open your mouth to answer. “Only you, my husband! Only you!” Your brain is running too fast for reason or reflection to catch up so you leave wondering why you answer him with the only words he has been able to teach you in his language to later. Your words are muffled as his fingers that grip the lower half of your face nearly slip in your mouth from the disordered urgency of the both of your actions. 

“That's right” your mouth falls open and you begin to softly pant in that animalistic way that you detest when he makes you watch yourself in a mirror while fucking you sometimes. In your defense, it is always unintentional on your part; you barely even notice it while taking his fucking. And yet, it is inevitable due to the force he does it with. “Look at you; dutifully fucking yourself up and down your husband's cock like a bitch in heat” a twinge forms in your knuckles from how your fingers hold the edges of the table to aid the gliding of your fuck hole that now slams up and down his cock in a rhythm you're all too familiar with, the smacks of your bare ass slapping against his naked abdomen making appalling noises that you're too worked up to dread over right now. “And you're a bitch in heat for me, aren't you?” His fingers move down from your jaw to your throat. “Wanting to be bred over and over again until you're so full of my children that your little belly is round and heavy to the brim, hm?” In these moments, you tell him anything and everything that he wants to hear.

Steve knows it all too well.

And he loves it.

“Yes!” Your voice disappears midway from how he squeezes your windpipe. His hips meet yours midway now, the wetness of your cunt and the force of his thrusts causing for his balls to try and push past the tight boundary of your sexual cavern. “Yes! Yes! I am! Please!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his free hand finds your petals to play with. “Ohhh!”

“You want to be bred, don't you?” He rubs your drenched pussy lips while his hard cock pistons in and out of your sopping cunt. “Want to contribute…?” He chokes you once more and this time his fingers pinch one of your pussy lips punishingly at the same time and you cry out. “Provide your husband with a house full of heirs?” The oxygen in your mind depletes and your eyes flutter as a result, cheeks turning red and nerves becoming prominent on your glistening temples. Your horny yet defensive pussy finally relaxes around him a bit so it doesn't hurt his dick and he savours the moment by holding you by the curve between your legs and fucking into your form that gets limp by the moment to push you towards your first orgasm. 

It always gets better after that. 

For him, at least. 

You don't choke him out so much then.

“Y- Yes!” When Steve finally lets go of your throat to let you breathe, you blubber out an an answer obediently once the light returns to your eyes. Your walls stiffen around him once more. But by then he has already worked himself closer to your womb. “Yes! Yes!” It is all your mind can muster.

“Good” he makes a point of taking both of your boobs in his hands and thoroughly massaging them to show off his ownership over you. “Now ask me to breed you” the fence of heat that has formed around your loins becomes tighter when his hands that previously fondled your clothed breasts slip under your gown -for Steve is too possessive to actually expose you to the eyes of others- and he softly rubs your tense sides a couple times before his fingers form pinches around your hard nubs. 

“Please breed me!” Your voice is so loud and strained that its quality is nearly blood curdling. “Please breed me and s- stuff me full your children!” Your hands fly to grip his from over the dress as you throw your head back and slip from the edge of your anticipation, parrotting all the words he has taught you over the course of your marriage. “Oh GOD! Please!” Your back arches from the coming undone of the hot belt of expectation and scorching gratification spills from it, seeping down your legs in the form of a nearly unbearable electric feeling that transforms into a subzero energy when it reaches your toes that curl, causing them to feel as though they are freezing. “I need your b- babies so bad, hubby!” 

Steve's own ears blush from the heat that courses through them in the form of adrenaline as he snorts, some of his blonde strands coming loose from the push and tug that he plays with your cunt. “Tell them” his balls ache from the strength it takes him not to fill you up right then. “Tell everyone that you want me to fill you up with my babies” since your sensitive body tries to curl and move away from the overstimulation, the older man wraps both of his hands around your thighs to keep you going. “Say it!” And he makes you say the words that he desires in the language of your spectators that look embarrassed for the first time since you got here. 

Save for your husband's best men who look equal parts aroused and proud. 

You want to cringe and be disgusted but your sensitive pussy is being pounded too hard for you to attempt a conjuring up of any dignity. 

“Need hubby babies bad!” You cry out again from memory when Steve's thick seed begins to fill you up at last. “Oh, my God!” The feeling of his hot cum filling you up and painting every inch of your sensitive walls penetrates your already hazy mind and the warmth that steams out of the pearly liquid steams its way up to your womb, making you shudder at the feeling. Your opening tightens around him in protest of the overstimulation and it instead causes for a barrage of bitter-sweet electric sparks to explode through your abdomen in the form of a half post-climax orgasm. Your body grows tired.

But your insatiable is far from done.

“Flattering, but no” Steve pushes you against the table before standing up when he is done fucking his orgasm as deep as he can reach into you. “The father of your children will suffice” your eyebrows furrow at his words but the older man does not give you a chance to ponder over them because now he is hooking his hands under your thighs that your rapid and messy fucking has covered in both of your juices. 

“W- What?!” Your vision is hazy and your mind dazed as you incoherently tap about. “What's— oh!” You wince from how much easier it is for him to move inside your worked open and much lubricated but torturously overstimulated walls now. “Oh! Oh…” Your hands blindly feel behind you to try and get him to stop. “Oh, no! No, please!” You cry out weakly, your upper body hanging low in the opposite direction from the exhaustion. 

“No?” The older man darkly chuckles, paying no mind to your flailing. “You think you can say that to me?” One of his hands desert their post on your thighs to roughly grab at your hair. He hasn't forgotten what started all this. “You think you have the same rights as everyone else around here, wife?”

But you're scowling from the burning pain in your walls, mind hazy and unwise. “Stop! Stop!” Your puffy folds ache from how his stiff skin rubs against them as he moves in and out of you at a normal pace… for now. “It hurts, stop!” 

“That is the part and parcel of having children” your body curves outwards as he pulls you further back and closer to himself by your hair. “And is that not why you're here?” His cocky tone along with the hungry and wondering eyes of the wildlings make you angry. “What you were spared for in the first place?” A twinkle in the eye of a man pisses you off and…

“It hurts, you old bastard!” Your young blood gets the better of you and your mouth runs before sense can catch up. “Stop, stop, stop it!” Since your hair holds you closer to him you manage to land a few smacks to his rock hard arms before you try to snake your fingers under his to pry off the hand that he coils around your thigh in a weak attempt to move away. 

Steve only chuckles, clearly unfazed by your fighting as he bounces your smaller form up in the air with each thrust. “Did your mother not teach you anything, wife?” He lets go of your hair only to restrain both your arms on the small of your back. “Good girls never tell their husbands no” your body flops forward again and you've no choice but to face the long table full of people. “They lay down pretty with their legs spread and let their husbands fill them with their children and then they express their gratitude for being granted a family.” Though your mind is confused and rather disoriented from the influx of sensation, you can make out new additions to the crowd of your humiliation from the corners of your vision. 

“Ugh!” You grunt from the rapid jabs he gives to your sore pussy, his firm hold nearly searing into your wrists. “I don't wanna have your stupid blonde babies!” Steve breathlessly lets out a real laugh at that. “Let go!” 

“There” he can swear he will never tired of you breaking the little character of the obedient wife that you so naively think you have mastered only to break it when he has you all riled up like this. “Right there, easy now” his other hand leaves your lap and he pushes your head down and against the table in the most condescending manner imaginable. Steve has got you to expose yourself for the brat you are, no need for play anymore. “Now I make a bunny out of you” his dark eyes now meet with those of the boys sitting at the other end of the table and his use of their language is a silent message. The Leader knows how his wife is desired. And he doesn't appreciate it in the least. The young males all panic and look away, gulping to themselves and praying for their lives. 

You try to struggle again, your lip curling in disdain and protest as you feel him fuck his cum right up your cervix. The bitter pleasure you get from it makes your head spin and your fingers and toes flex defensively. “Ooof!” Your cheek rubs against the table and you puff out your face to express how tense you feel down there. 

“Brat” Steve shakes in silent mirth as he reaches for your ass with the hand that he was holding your face down with. “Don't you move a muscle.” You're too busy rocking over the table and being held down to try. 

“Hubby, please!” You whine when one of his veins twitch deep up your walls and your knees shiver from the sensation. “Please!” Maybe if his cock wasn't so comically huge, it would have been easier to move past the rough friction of your raw, orgasm worn skins. But it is and so you are ready to abandon the dam that begins to form in your abdomen again if it means to avoid this pain. “Owwwiee!”

“Aw” Steve cooes as he now moves to a pace that falters your vision and causes for the great table to shake with each thrust that he gives you. “So small and sore, aren't we?” The spank he lands on your unsuspecting ass right after is the stark opposite of his tone. “Maybe we shouldn't act out so much when we are so weak and pathetic, huh, wife?”

“Oooof!” One of the shyer ladies get up before she carries her young son who stood next to the group of the young ones away and the realization of the fact that your spectators are all real people who see you everyday and will continue to do after this drips down your limbs like ice cold water. Your hips cannot help but clench from the embarrassment that you dully feel in some part of your mind way far at the back. “Hubby, please!” The spanks increase with each snap of his hips and though the turmoil between your legs takes up most of your sensory powers, your cheeks now begin to noticeably sting from the pain that builds from how the swings of his hand against your poor ass increase with each thrust. 

“Please?” Steve muses like he isn't balls deep into you and fucking the literal daylights out of you like a crazed heathen. “Oh, but I thought I was a mean old bastard” of course, your pleas always only mean that you want more, according to the brute you are married to. They cannot mean anything else, apparently. “And you didn't want my stupid blonde babies” you grunt from the frustration and land a helpless fist on the table. You are in an uncomfortable tug of war between the mutilation of your sensory glands and the tall barrage of tight hot anticipation that cannot help but form in the base of your stomach again because of how hard and rough he fucks you. 

Your husband's main man, Lloyd, laughs in a comically daft voice to tease you and be the insufferable asshole that he is. “You've got yourself a feisty little pup there, Steve” he is the only one who can refer to the blonde haired man by his name. Or maybe, he doesn't care to use the honorific and his usefulness backs him up. You wouldn't be surprised if the latter really is the case. “Don't you agree, my sweet?” He side hugs his own young bride who ironically is one of the sweetest and perhaps the only nice person in this entire village and Lloyd grins down at the girl whom you now notice is blushing furiously. 

Before you can let the humiliation swallow you whole, Steve spreads your burning cheeks and chuckles at the sight he finds glistening and blinking up at him, the madenned hammering of his cock unceasing. “Look at this adorable little button of yours, darling” you are not personally familiar with any of the faces that witness you trying to pathetically crawl away when your devil of a husband begins to tickle your pucker so you realize it was actually not quite hitting you as bad as it does now when you become hyperaware of Rainie's gaze. If it weren't for how your eyes roll because of Steve's hot seed shooting deep up your cavern again and nearly searing into your very flesh this time around from the brutality of it all, you reckon you would have tried to hide. But now all you do is let out choked blubbers as your wide eyes sting from tears due to the sensory overload. “I think it's time we deflowered it, what do you think?”  

Oh, no. 

His cock is not something that you can handle in your ass without splitting all over the place!

“No answer? No?” It feels as though you are the one who is cumming and not Steve because of how good he is at wearing the mask of nonchalance. “Hm,” he roughly pulls you backwards by your hair before hooking an arm around your waist to keep you from trying to get away from how he toys with your trembling pucker. “Maybe we should let sweet Rainie decide for you, hm—?”

“OH, GOD!” You cannot help but scream over him. 

He is too much.

Steve ignores your exclamation, thrusts delayed -more jab like- but so strong that his tip spears into your cervix with each thrust, thus causing for your head to spin from how he chooses to fuck out his orgasm. “She's your friend, isn't she?” Steve's beard gently stings the sweaty and teary skin of your jaw from how his mouth presses into your ear. “Aren't you, Rainie dear?” 

Yep, you are never looking her in the eye ever again. 

“Answer him, sunshine” Lloyd eggs his wife on and you notice through your cloudy vision that he is making her palm his own bulge. You nearly cringe back into Steve's chest from the obscenity of it all. 

The girl, a new bride herself, is shy and small next to her own flesh boulder of a husband as she meekly peeks up at you through her lashes. “Y- Yes, sir. We are friends” her voice is barely audible and both your husbands chuckle. 

If it weren't from how a dull orgasm rips itself apart somewhere deep between your loins, you would have felt angry.

It is like the assholes know that you're friends, and they're having their fun with it.

No wonder they are best mates.

“Good, good” you can feel Steve's cum splattering your thighs with each brutal jab, the sound and sprays of his shaft making a mess of your juices underneath your dress ample in its audibility. “So, do you think it's time your girlfriend's dirty little button was opened up, hm?” He keeps one hand on your pucker and reaches for your boob to grope with the other.

Rainie blushes again and furiously lowers her head the moment her eyes connect with yours. Though you don't know it, her own has been deflowered not too long ago and she isn't sure what response would be favourable by you, so that and the embarrassment of the Leader questioning her for something like that about his wife when she is on amiable terms with the girl makes her choose silence for as long as allowed. And her own husband cockily leaning into her and mansplaining into her ear how it would work for you by comparing it with what he did to her pretty ass only makes her curl further. 

“Shy little thing, isn't she, my precious?” So your husband turns his unwelcome attention back to you, bending the both of your bodies forwards so he can smack your asshole with the back of his hand easier, the impact making you rock violently forward. “Maybe you should learn some manners from her, huh?” The howls you let out from getting your pucker pinched and hit is something you would rather not narrate. All you choose to disclose of that ordeal is that sobs echo in the hall, another orgasm rips out of you and you are sure your body releases more liquid than normal for an average orgasm. “Look at how polite and nice she is, hm? While all you want to do is to curse your husband and be an ungrateful little sloth” it sounds as though a newfound annoyance causes him to grit his teeth towards the end and the tip of his fingers finds recourse in seeking for itself a passage past the tight barrier of your unwilling button as a result. 

And so your mouth begins to run in the desperate way he loves. “N- No, no, no hubby! No!” You vehemently shake your head as you feel your knees start to buckle from the exhaustion. “I- I didn't mean it!” The bearded corners of his mouth pull into a deep smirk. He knows its coming, and he loves it. 

“You didn't?” How can he not when he is the one who trained you to it and taught you the words to say during. 

“No! No!” Your voice comes out child-like from your mind's succumbing to its defeat. For the day, at least. “I d- didn't!” 

Steve is a jackhammer in how he fucks his children into you and works towards giving you more. “Oh, I see” now he speaks to you like an elder speaking to a young one, like you are no older than five winters. “Then, will you tell me why you said such naughty words to your husband who does so much for you?” He knows you're small now and so he chooses his words accordingly.

After all, it is Steve's meticulous tailoring of your mind and body which brings you to act out this specific sequence. 

Nothing less, nothing more.

Just this. 

A shrew tamed into a compliant wife equipped with the mind of a babe. 

He may never admit it outright simply because it goes against his very code of life but Steve knows in his heart of hearts that it is this very push and pull you put up in your own passive little way that keeps him alert and your marriage interesting. 

Addictive.

“Is ’cause— hnnng, cause—!” He pulls both of your bodies back up with the intention of turning you to face him but he chooses not to do it just yet. He wants you, those silly boys and everyone else who suspects that his judgement grows soft because of his fancy for your youthful beauty and adorable personality, to hear it. Steve can always pull you right back down if wants. Your reins will always be in a hand's reach to him. Just because he lets you sneak in your foolish ways sometimes doesn't mean you've conquered his nature-gifted better sense.

“Because, what?” Everything in life calls for balance and so each time your misbehavior that you think you hide so well from him begins to rise above a level he deems no longer amusing, he is there to hammer it down. 

Quite literally. 

“Because I am j- just an i- impudent,” Steve grunts and moans, feeling his cock twitch from how you always mispronounce imprudent when you are in this state. He taught you that word and true to your little baby self and mind, you can never get yourself to say it right. “Little wife and I am a d- dumby—”

“Fuck…” Steve feels a drop of cold sweat trickle down his back from your little vocabulary. He feels himself pant from how hard he fucks you, his windpipe alight from the friction caused by the air he heaves in with each desperate inhale.

You are a proper trouble; something he has never had before, and he loves it.

“— D- Dumby sloth who dunno any real worries besides e- eating and b- being spoilt b- by my lovu hubbsy—” your tongue is kinetic jelly between your teeth and Steve has begun to moan from how fucked stupid you sound. “So I get shtoopid and u- ungateful” Steve cannot contain it anymore. In a fevered and desperate confusion of how to express the thunderstorm you cause in his head, he slaps your hair away, causing for some of the flowers to go flying about, and sinks his teeth into your flesh, growling so deep into your skin that you feel the vibrations cause ripples in your blood. Perhaps that is what Steve yearns to taste. “B- But husby always fixes” your head goes limp against his as he sucks your skin like a crazed animal for you lose a track of how long. Your vision and hearing bolts away from your comprehensive faculties like a bullet train and your body gets sucked into the vacuum of your husband's beastly grip. You are just a lifeless doll rocking in whichever direction and manner he pleases.

Next time your brain catches on with your reality, your body has been placed under his with your back against the table. You faintly notice when your dress begins to get wet that splashes of mead cover it due to your brutish husband's depraved madness. 

“Look at me, hey” he pats your incoherent face until your wandering gaze settles on him, teary eyes distant. “This is the face that you will see in those of your children, and children you shall have until this residence cannot contain any more” his promise echoes in your buzzing ears like the bestowing of an ultimate truth upon you by some powerful deity. “This is the face you will look up at as you spread your legs,” his tip is so swollen, raw and hot against your worn skin that you can feel it even in this state. Your features scrunch from the discomfort. “This is the face you will kiss and cherish” his fingers find your throat again and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he puts pressure on your windpipe. “And this is the face that you will look at until you breathe your last” he holds you until you are on the verge of losing consciousness, though letting go only to stifle the gasp you let out to resume your breathing with a hot sealing kiss.

Your muscles twitch and your body spasms in the position he has you in. Laxness washes over your limbs and you begin to violently shake from the dull and yet stinging quakes of sensation that bloom through your whole form. 

For some dark, twisted and depraved reason, you cum from the helplessness of your situation and it is present in Steve's amused and proud smirk that the knowledge is not lost on him. Swiping an arm around you from behind with an air of satisfaction, he collects your limp body closer to his and walks off to your chambers with your drenched sexes still connected, leaving a crowd of embarrassed, curious, satisfied as well as tamed spectators in his wake. 

You surrender yourself to him and close your eyes as your body collapses on top of his. Your mind barely works but you know one thing— fact as clear as day; you are not making it out of this without at least one child on the way. 

And there isn't a single thing you can do about it.

. . .

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Question...? The End - “It’s just a question.”

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Reader Summary - After years of back and forth, years of unknowns, a lifetime of questions, it's time for answers.

Question...? Mini Series List | Steve Rogers Masterlist

"Looking back on it..." Steve can't quite find the words to finish the sentence. He shakes his head, "Jesus."

You slightly tip your glass, "We've been through a lot together."

He knows that you're too nice to say what the reality of it is. Steve put you through a lot.

And sure, you two have been through a lot together. All the awkward phases, the growing pains, romantic mishaps, miscommunications, circumstances.

Looking back on it, you were his constant.

Most of the time, you were his only constant.

Rather than staring at the glass in his hand, he keeps his eyes locked on you. There was so much history there. You were right, there were so many times that he could've done more, tried harder. He could've fought for you.

He swallows the lump in his throat, “I don’t know what to say.” 

You shrug, swirling the lonely ice cube in your glass, “I think that was always part of the problem. It’s why we never worked.”

“I - I’m sorry.”

And just like all those times before, you fight to tamp down those feelings that never fail to arise when Steve is near. You've come to accept this. You know this. You and Steve don't work. Accepting that is so much easier than pushing him out of your life. “It’s not like I told you how I felt.” 

Steve knew it wasn't the whole truth. Sure, you'd never out right said that you had feelings for him, but you'd given him so much more than he gave you. And every single time he was too scared of ruining everything that he ran like a coward. 

"But you were the one that held us together. You gave me so much." 

You snort, "Like your first kiss?" 

"I would've waited a hell of a lot longer if it weren't for you. I didn't kiss a single girl in high school." 

"Bullshit." 

"It's true," Steve insists, tipping his glass in your direction. "Ask Bucky. Besides, I was too hung up on you to even look at another girl." 

You shake your head, rolling your eyes, "That's not true." 

"It is. I was just - I was so damn scared of ruining our friendship." 

"Then why did you kiss me at our college graduation?" 

Steve wasn't sure. To this day, he couldn't decide it is was his ultimate moment of weakness or moment of strength. "Better question: Why do you think I broke that dickhead guy's nose last year?" 

"Male ego?" 

"I was jealous," Steve deadpans. "I was so fucking jealous. I was upset because some asshole that was nowhere near good enough took the girl I wanted my whole life. And worst part, I still wasn't brave enough to tell you how I felt."

You slowly exhale, "I think that maybe things worked out the way that they were supposed to. Maybe we just - we weren't meant to be." 

His eyebrows pull together, "Do you really believe that?" 

"I don't know."

“I just - I wish I would’ve put up a fight. I wish I would’ve told you how I felt - how I feel.”

Your eyes snap up, you heart stuttering. “Feel?”

His heart pounds in his chest. This was likely his last chance. His chance to not be a coward. A chance to finally get the girl. “Feel. Present tense.”

Your eyebrows pull in, demanding and curious, “And what do you feel?”

“I feel like I should’ve gone after you after we kissed the first time. Like I should’ve told you that the reason I got so angry you kissed Bucky in high school was because I wanted to be the only person that you kissed. Like I never should’ve left your house that night in college. I feel like I’ve been in love with you since I saw you that very first time.”

“Steve…” you whisper, too choked up to say anything but his name.

“I’ve looked for that feeling everywhere. I’ve looked for that meteor strike everywhere and the only place I’ve found it is with you. You lit up my life. Everyone else, everything else, is second best compared to you.”

“It shouldn’t be this hard, Steve.”

“Then let me carry us for a while. Let me hold us together. Let it be my turn.” He reaches out, his hand gripping yours from across that empty bar stool. He sucks in a soft breath, clearly warring with himself. In this moment, he feels like he did all those years ago. The best friend that was never good enough for the girl. The girl he watched and wanted more than anything. This was his chance to be brave for once, to finally speak now. “I think I've always known.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, “Known what?” 

“I think I’ve known it since we were kids," he continues. He stands up from his bar stool, closing the distance between you and him. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting over your cheeks. "You’re my forever. You’re my endgame. And I’m sorry I didn’t treat you like that. I’m sorry I let things come between us. But I’ve always known that. Even if it scared the shit outta me sometimes. I belong with you. You belong with me. It’s us. That’s how this story ends. It’s us.”

"Steve..." you whisper.

"Can I kiss you?" You suck in a sharp breath as he cups your face, lifting your jaw until your lips ghost over his, "It's just a question."  

You know it's not just a question. Not really. Not anymore. You lick your lips in anticipation, "Is it?" 

"No," he finally admits. "It's an answer." 

Question...? Mini Series List Inspired By Taylor Swift Steve Rogers Masterlist

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[witchywithwhiskey]

the alpha next door

pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader

summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov

word count: 8.9k

a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!

When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were. 

The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved. 

But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…

Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him. 

The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.

When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside. 

On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.

Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart. 

As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.

That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.

That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.

But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.

That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.

He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door. 

Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume. 

So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent. 

Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.

Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit. 

But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. 

Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help. 

But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.

“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.

One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up. 

That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.

Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you. 

Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup. 

He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.

It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come. 

He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.

A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged. 

Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.

Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing. 

The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him. 

But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.

Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.

Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.

Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat. 

His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.

When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.

You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.

A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve. 

The alpha next door was just so…sweet. 

It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor. 

And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.

Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?

It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet. 

It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together. 

You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard. 

Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous. 

Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun. 

You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct  sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.

It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…

Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.

Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body. 

Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.

The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically. 

You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.

The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…

You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.

Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve. 

“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.

You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due. 

You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.

“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you. 

The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it. 

“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock. 

You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.

It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!” 

So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more. 

It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun. 

Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway. 

Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.

Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve. 

“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength. 

Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together. 

In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.

“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes. 

Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.

Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.

Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.

He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands. 

Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges. 

Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.

Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.

You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.

At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…

God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you. 

Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.

That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his. 

You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy. 

It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped. 

“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you. 

As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.

By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound. 

But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.

“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole. 

The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body. 

Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.

“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.

He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.

With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.

“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy. 

Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.

“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?” 

As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot. 

Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.

“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach. 

“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.

“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink. 

“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in. 

Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.

“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?” 

Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.

“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.” 

Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot. 

You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.

You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it. 

Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door. 

The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible. 

Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment. 

Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.

“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words. 

You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.

“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed. 

“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”

You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt. 

“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!” 

“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.” 

“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast. 

Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.

As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.

For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver. 

Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet. 

But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.

You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips. 

“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer. 

Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.

“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot. 

It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.

“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.

When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr. 

“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him. 

“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness. 

You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him. 

“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.

The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.

Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.” 

You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.” 

Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate. 

But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Breeding Kink Steve/Bucky eventho you already have a couple of kids 🫣

hi baby! I'm so sorry for taking so long, I hope you like what I wrote.

summary - breeding kink gone wild, your husbands take it to the next level by forever wanting you to carry their child.

warning - smut, breeding kink, sorta dubcon but not really, mentions of pregnancy, creampie, threesome.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“C’mon, Doll. Let us pump you full, want you to have our babies.” Bucky groans in your ear, pressed against your back where you can feel his bulge. You whine, letting out a breathy whimper as Steve grips your hips, pressing soft kisses to your neck, occasionally marking it as well.

“What do you say, Sweetheart? Wanna be full of our cum?”

You squirm, vision becoming hazy as lust clouds your mind. “B–but, we already have two…” Your head falls back, moaning loudly as their cocks slide inside of you without much warning. You didn’t even see them take their cocks out. Your cunt clenches around them, arousal dripping down their thick members, making it easier for them to thrust into you.

“Doesn’t matter, Doll. We wanna breed you forever and watch you grow with our child.” Bucky thrusts in and out, hands sliding up your body until they grasp your breasts. His moans so close to your ear that it causes tingles to spread throughout your body, your cunt clenching around your men. 

Steve groans, biting down on his bottom lip hard as he looks down at you with dark eyes. Your own cloudy ones connect with his, lips parting as you feel them pulse inside of you, gripping them tightly when they hit your sweet spot. Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and groans slip past his lips as he pounds into you hard and fast, feeling your little cunt clench around him from his brutal thrusts. 

They continue to have their way with you, fucking you so hard that you see stars. Your juices squirt out of you, causing their cocks to twitch and pump you full of their cum once again. Filling you with large amounts that will likely be the cause of your next pregnancy. Steve and Bucky take turns kissing your lips before cleaning you up. They lay you down on your large bed and grin as they caress your stomach, waiting for the moment you pop this one out for them to start all over again. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[ronearoundblindly]

Big Pharma

Steve Rogers x doctor!Reader

Written for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza--HAPPY BDAY, SIRI!--using the scenario prompt ~quick, frantic, secret sex in an almost public place + babe's hand over your mouth to keep you quiet~ and the dialogue prompt "goddamnit, will you just f***ing let me do this for you?" with free use kink for good measure. Why not?

Summary: The extreme drug cocktail you devise to save Steve Rogers has one major side effect.

Warnings for smut 🥴, sorta dub-con because it's like sex pollen, F E E L S, Steve being the most chivalrous gentleman while railing you (do it for your country, babes 🫡), completely unintentional dirty talk from Steve but 😮‍💨 we'll allow it, Tony being Tony, and--as always-- terrible puns. (There are no mentions of any medical instruments, except an IV, which is not used.) MINORS DNI. This is a mature gift work; see my Light Masterlist for all-age fanfic that is fine for minors. WC 2k

The constant photoflash burns into your retinas obnoxiously, and you’re not even the subject of the paparazzi.

Captain America is alive—all thanks to you—though he could easily have been six-feet under by now. The mysterious infection was so bad and spread so far, the drug regimen you administered constitutes one of the Avengers’ biggest Hail Marys to date, but it’s working. That’s all that matters…to the world. Behind the scenes is a different story.

As Captain Rogers turns to the next hand he must shake, his sharp blue eyes find you, twinged with a familiar fear.

This stupid event scheduled by Stark to boost morale, to show Cap is just fine and back in fighting form, has gone on too long. It’s happening again.

You worried Rogers might not make it when suddenly Stark showed up hours earlier than the initial, planned press conference—because, of course, there’s meet-and-greets, quick interviews, and these damn handshakes. He’s only gone so long between treatments for the last week.

You nod at Cap and make your way in the small crowd back to Stark. You tell him you’ll need a room, somewhere private to put in the IV, and at least thirty minutes to administer the huge dose. Rogers’s super-metabolism makes it necessary to use approximately forty times the prescription average for antibiotics and steroids. In theory, the side effects are well worth his speedy recovery.

Well, the only side effect.

Stark looks horrendously annoyed. “Can’t you just shoot him up with it and be done?” He doesn’t need your lecture repeated though. “Fine, there’s a greenroom thing over there, but you’ve got fifteen minutes at most, you hear me?”

“Twenty-five, Mr. Stark. He’s not a water balloon.”

“Twenty or he can wheel the damn thing around with him.”

You gulp in nervousness, but the problem isn’t Stark’s attitude. Rogers isn’t going to like rushing this. He feels shame enough already.

“I’ll make it work,” you assure the stubborn playboy. If he only knew…

“Good. A team player. We value that here.”

You have no fucking idea how ironic that is, you scream internally, but you follow him to a door off a back hallway, a room that shares a wall with the space all those people are gathered, and thank Stark.

“Oh good, he’s heard the dog-whistle of treat time,” Tony quips, and you swivel to see Cap trailing behind you.

He’s already made his excuses to step away, too. It must be bad.

You’re sure to pull out your props of a saline drip and tubing from your bag while Tony can still see, but you drop the act the instant the door clicks shut.

Cap take one step forward to flip the lock, immediately unzipping the fly of his iconic leather suit.

See, the only side effect of the drugs is Rogers gets hard, often, and can’t find relief from his efforts alone. Through trial-and-error, the clear solution has been help—discretely—from the only medical professional allowed around him until his condition improved.

Of course, he fought it. Of course, you wanted to preserve his dignity. Of course, you tried to keep it as perfunctory, methodical, and uninspired as possible, but the thing is, that didn’t last.

The more distant and cold the experience, the faster he became desperate and wanting again, and now you have just twenty minutes to make sure Captain America can hold out for hours.

Steve, you remind yourself. He prefers you not use respectful address when engaging is what he deems entirely disrespectful behavior. 

You need to get him off in essentially no time at all, so you’ve decided: go big or go home.

Bag tossed to the floor, you unbutton your pants and shimmy out of everything from shoes to panties, letting the longer tail of your dress shirt barely cover your modesty.

Steve looks dumbfounded. It’s bad enough he has to run to you for a handy every few hours, but this?

“Doc, no,” he breaths.

“I understand the procedure,” you say calmly, echoing his harrowing consent from that first night he needed you.

Steve’s brow furrows in strain. “We shouldn’t…”

‘We’ are way past ‘shouldn’t,’ buddy.

“Can’t ask you to…“ but he also knows time’s a wasting.

He’s already fisting himself, struggling to be the gentleman he never stopped being, which at the moment is a huge problem because both of you need to get through the day—you without losing your job and him without popping a boner on national television.

It’s your job to break him and break him right now.

“Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?”

There’s a flat smack on the door.

“Do whatever the lady wants and then get back out here,” Tony yells from the other side. “Put us all out of our misery,” he ends with a grumble.

That is by far the most helpful thing Stark has said in the last week, so you mouth “see” and begin undoing your blouse from the bottom, giving Steve his first peek of you. His hand speeds along his length, adam’s apple bobbing in concentration.

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you,” you whisper. You walk to the far corner of the room, put your hands up, shirt rising over your bare ass, and face the wall. Your voice is soothing, pleading even. “Just take what you need.”

In some ways, you feel responsible for his predicament. You are the prescribing doctor, he isn’t in a relationship where a partner could assist, and he insists no one else know. He doesn’t deserve to be poked and prodded more than necessary, and you can’t give him any other meds in combination. None of it is his fault same as none of it is yours. You only intended to heal him.

Truthfully though, none of this is just about his release anymore, much as you’d like to dismiss your feelings.

You can’t deny, however, that each time the air gets a little thicker with tension, the body language a little more intimate. Steve has kept his eyes open, clutched your free hand to his chest, rolled his hips open, and thrust up into your fist. The greater the satisfaction of his climax, the longer he retains control.

“When this is over…I swear,” he grits out, getting closer word by word until his deep voice is right by your ear.

He tugs your shirt up to dip his fingers between your legs. “Been smelling you for two days. Can’t do anything until—” Steve growls, feeling how slick you’ve become in anticipation “—you’re ready for me.” 

His concern washes away when two fingers easily breech you to the knuckle and are immediately replaced by the blunt head of his cock dragging between your folds.

You didn’t expect him to give in so fast. You didn’t expect him to have known this aroused you. The idea he might want to continue, to go further, races down your spine, following the opposite path of Steve leaning into you. His forehead presses your occipital as yours presses the wall. The heat of him makes you arch in luxurious proximity.

Steve fucking forward to enter you in one smooth motion makes you forget to be quiet, but before the whole shout of ecstasy escapes, his hand covers your mouth.

“Shhh, Doc,” he breathes at the base of your neck. “Be good for me.”

That only gets you moaning into the seam of his gloves.

His hips start a staccato rhythm, a second of loud friction for each second of silent, fulfilling pressure.

Steve slips his still wet fingers under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to swirl a smooth pattern over your nipple. Instead of voicing your approval, you shove yourself back into him faster.

You notice the muffled chatting of Tony and someone else outside while your eyes roll. The slap of your skin against the Cap suit becomes the loudest thing in the room, but that’s not what Steve minds.

He pulls out and spins you around, pausing to see the cream you’ve created at the base of him drip to the carpet below.

Deep sea eyes meet yours through golden lashes.

“If I can’t hear you…” Steve hoists you up to his waist, threading one arm through the bend in your knee, spreading you wide and diving in swiftly.

Your body curls forward automatically to grasp at him and smother yourself in the leather of his shoulder pad. This pace is much faster, purposeful, utterly unravelling you. The position delivers more range of motion, all of the buildup and less of the noise, with the added benefit of his tool belt nudging your clit repeatedly.

Tony pounds on the door. “‘Bout done in there, guys? Let’s go.” How apt, the unknowing jester.

Steve pants, open-mouthed, against your temple.

You smile but can’t stop your own ruin.

A groan gets buried in your disheveled hair. “Are you…close?” His hips snap brutally. “Are you—“ he sounds wrecked “—you gonna…come on my—uungh.”

You tip over the edge, clutching him tight and fluttering for him in every way. The detonation of your orgasm burns red behind your eyelids like camera flashes, a dirty snapshot for you alone.

“Mercy,” Steve begs, gripping your ass to rut into you, desperate to join. His neck tenses as he spills inside you, pulse throbbing in time with his cock. 

He leans against you and the wall, his steady weight stilling your shaky legs. Slowly, your feet are guided to the floor and Steve steps away to wipe away any evidence of his ‘therapeutic treatment.’ His breathing settles much faster than yours, and by the time he’s tucked back in with his suit righted, you’re simply sliding down the wall to catch up.

He hurries over to the small vanity and mini fridge—usually ‘guests’ for speaking (or interrogating) wait here—to bring you supplies.

A box of tissues is set by your side.

“So…” he hands you a bottle of water “…maybe…dinner tonight?” 

You set the water down in favor of cleaning yourself, glancing up to offer a reassuring dismissal. “This morning was your last dose,” you remind him. “It should be over soon.”

Steve may not need this anymore, may never need you again, but he doesn’t miss a single beat.

“I’d like—I want to take you some place nice, but…” He chugs his whole water then quickly unclasps the glove on his left hand, rolling up his sleeve, veins jumping over a thick forearm.

“I don’t know what food you enjoy.”

Arguably, he knows a few other things that you enjoy.

There’s another impatient bang at the door.

“I—“ Your heart soars with the soft sincerity of his face, no trace of fear left behind, no hesitation. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Steve stands, smoothing a hand over his hair. “I’ll lock it behind me…and, um, thank you, Doc.”

It’s the first time he hasn’t apologized this whole week.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Steve flashes you a dopey smile and shakes his head. “See you out there,” he chuckles.

You can’t be seen when the door opens just enough for Steve to step out, but he makes a show of rolling the suit’s sleeve back down like he really did have an IV infusion, selling the lie like a pro. He keeps Tony talking while shutting you back into your debauched bubble.

Through the wall, you still hear “could you have gone any slower?” followed by a curt, “yes,” and have to stifle a laugh.

“What’d you do, blow a vein?”

You’re picturing an incredibly ironic look on Captain Rogers’ face.

“Just be grateful she puts up with us, Tony…” and their voices disappear down the hall.

His treatment may be finished, but Steve wants you to stick around. He wants you.

Would having dinner with that man really be so terrible? No. Not at all. Even the ‘worst’ of this situation has been a great fucking experience. You don’t want to give that up yet.

It seems you’re both addicted now.

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers One-Shots; Ko-Fi]

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”

Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.

“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.

Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.

“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.

Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.

Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.

“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.

“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.

His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[babyjakes]

you all over me.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | double penetration

pairing | soft!dark!daddies!steve rogers and ari levinson x little!reader

warnings | dark ddlg dynamic (soft!dark!daddies of captive!little!reader.) dub/non-con. size kink. reader is held down and fucked. stretching. loss of anal virginity. unprotected double penetration (vaginal and anal.) mentions of anal training/stretching/fingering. clit rubbing. crying kink. praise and encouragement. mocking/humiliation. forced orgasm (with implied previous forced orgasms.) overstimulation. they come in her. little bit of aftercare.

word count | 1,386

an | this is written in the same au as clear blue water, with captive!reader and her soft!dark!daddies.

Tears poured down your damp cheeks as your face was tucked into the warm crook of Steve's neck. Arms reaching up weakly, you almost wanted to cling to the safety of his broad form as he lay beneath you, heavy breaths harmonizing with your own.

But that wouldn't do for your daddies- not for either of them. "Come on, babydoll. Where's that pretty face," the blonde crooned as his hips thrust upward over and over, rocking your own. His hands were on your waist, Ari's just above them as both the men worked to keep you upright and in place, their massive lengths pounding into you with steady rhythm.

They had been fucking you like this for what felt like hours, but the sensations of fullness and overstimulation you were experiencing were still just as overwhelming and horrible as when they had first pushed into you. Steve had gone first, both of the men knowing you would tolerate his part better. They were a bit concerned when you were in tears from the vaginal penetration alone, but as usual, they wouldn't be discouraged. As difficult as it was, and as pitiful as you were to watch as you were held down and split open, Ari was eventually able to work himself into you as well.

As they kept their four strong hands on you, working you up and down over their throbbing cocks like nothing more than a fleshlight with a pulse, you honestly couldn't tell which forceful insertion felt worse. It was all blurring together, the world nothing more than a streaky haze through your steady tears. The men shared a sympathetic glance with each other before Steve refocused his attention back on you. "Poor girl," he murmured lowly, bringing a hand up to brush away your tears with his thumb. "Know it's so hard, little one. So hard to take both your daddies' cocks at the same time, isn't it?"

"So full, aren't you, baby?" Ari nodded in agreement, his oversized member stretching your poor little bottom to its absolute limit. Despite the generous amount of lube they'd used and the time they'd spent patiently coaxing your tiny hole open with their greedy fingers, nothing could ease the horrible burning feeling that bloomed through your lower half as you were taken in the ass for the very first time.

"Look so pretty like this, all stretched out stuffed full of us," Steve groaned, his cock twitching so hard within your aching walls that you could feel it, your poor tummy spasming in response. To the man lying comfortably on his back, there had never been a sight quite as beautiful as this: watching from the front as your tiny holes were so helplessly violated, large hands holding you in place and giving you no choice but to sit there and take it, your perky tits bobbing perfectly as your figure was worked at a steady, punishing pace.

And though he couldn't see your chest as well, or the pretty little faces you were making as your body was used and abused so sinfully, Ari's view from behind you wasn't anything to turn his nose up at, either. He loved the way your back arched up as their dicks kept you angled forward towards Steve, your adorable ass bouncing in rhythm as his cock tore into your throbbing, achy hole. He could easily keep you going with just his hands alone; with both him and Steve being so much larger and stronger than you, it wasn't difficult for either one of them to overpower you and allow the other to make better use of a second pair of hands.

Which is just what Steve did as his partner held you up and in place, giving him the signal of a nod. "Go ahead, Stevie. Let's give some attention to that pretty little clit of hers," Ari suggested. Steve spit on his thumb, bringing the other hand down to pull back its protective hood as he smeared the clear wetness all over your poor little bundle of nerves. Your body jerked harshly at the stimulation, but you couldn't do anything to stop them or squirm away; you were completely helpless, having no choice but to let the blonde rub your exposed little nub in quick, harsh circles.

"Please, p-please... n-no!" you choked through your tears as your whole body began to shake with sobs.

"C'mon doll, doesn't that feel good? Know you like it when we pull back the hood and rub you right there, right on your cute little button," Steve frowned and faked worry at your cries, though he and Ari both knew perfectly well the way their actions and words were tormenting you.

"That's right," Ari mused from behind you as he kept your trembling body moving across their stiff lengths, "our pretty girl loves having her sweet little clit rubbed. Makes her come so hard, doesn't it Stevie? Poor baby can't help it when her daddies play with her clit, but it sure is cute to watch her try and fight it."

"So cute," Steve hummed in agreement, watching intently as your breaths began staggering, your little feet kicking weakly as your knees shook and struggled on either side of him. "Oh? Looks like she's getting close here," the blonde sang as he continued his skillful work over your slick, sticky nub. "Can feel her little pussy fluttering- what do you think, babydoll? You gonna be a good girl and come for your daddies?"

Watching as your buildup continued, Ari and Steve shared a knowing nod, both increasing the speed of their respective roles as their cocks pumped more vigorously inside you. This is the moment they had been waiting for; of course they were hoping to come as you did. A few orgasms had been forced from your trembling form earlier as you were held down by one and stretched out on the other's fingers, but this was meant to be the grand finale, the climax you would all share, whether you were willing or not.

"Can feel her squeezing us- she's getting close," Ari grunted as their dicks clapped lewdly into your dripping holes. "That's it, sweetheart. Come on, almost there..."

Your resistance was a losing game. As much as you fought and defied them each time, a sense of helplessness was never absent from within you; you knew you'd be forced to come. And with both of them thrusting into you at an almost immeasurable speed, and Steve's torturous hands working your clit the way he knew best, there was nothing for you to do but let them have their way with you. Eyes squeezing shut as your tummy tightened, your little toes curled as your orgasm was ripped from your faltering grasp. You came long and hard, Steve and Ari's triumphant words of praise merely echoes as heat and shocks of ecstasy overcame your exhausted body.

Warmth burst in your core as you were pumped full of both the men's come, Ari's fingers digging in almost painfully around your waist as their cocks swelled and sputtered within you. When you were finally coming down from your impressively long high, you let out a soft, broken cry as Steve finally eased your body down to rest limply against his front. "Shhh," you could hear him humming soothingly, someone's hand rubbing your back as you sniffled and sobbed into your captor's chest. "Easy pulling out of her," he was murmuring to Ari as the world seemed to slow around you.

"You're okay, baby. You were so good for us," the brunette was praising you softly from behind as he shifted a bit inside you, trying to measure how careful he needed to be as he and his partner now shifted their focus towards damage control.

"Don't cry, little one. Daddy's here, Daddy's got you," Steve kissed the top of your head as he cooed at you, his broad arms cradling you lovingly as you clung to him. You were desperate for any comfort and tenderness you could get at this point, even if it was straight from the hands of your abusers. This is usually how you wound up at the end of the day, a weeping mess in your daddies' arms, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 26: Overstimulation - Steve Rogers

Summary: It's the 1940's, and you're a dancer on the infamous USO tour showcasing Captain America. You're due on stage in 5 minutes, but Steve's too busy with his face between your legs.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, exhaustion, innocent!Steve (kinda)

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“We’re on in 5 minutes! I repeat, 5 minutes. Did you hear Mr Rogers?”

“Hmm? Yeah, 5 minutes, I heard!” Steve’s head perked up from between your legs, wetness coating his lips and chin as he shouted through the door to the stage hand.

Your body collapsed onto the desk, completely worn out. Eyes heavy, struggling to stay open, and lungs burning with how out of breath you were. “Please, I need to go and get ready; the girls will wonder where I am”.

Steve licked his lips and began to spread your thighs again, his hold hard enough to leave bruises behind as you sighed heavily, head falling back against the mirror. “Just one more; I know you can do it, then you’ll feel much better when you’re dancing baby”. His face descended to your cunt, tongue lapping at your already sensitive hole, his nose pushing and stroking against your engorged clit.

Steve had been at it for what felt like hours. You were one of the dancers on his USO tour across America, dancing and singing every night in a new city to sold-out crowds. You watched as the infamous Steve Rogers sold the bonds and punched fake Adolf Hilter in the face for the crowd's entertainment.

The tour had been going on for weeks as the war ravaged worldwide. Steve had kept to himself, appearing to be scared of any female that walked past him, let alone any of the dancers or singers on stage, even though he had hundreds of women ready to throw themselves at him.

You felt bad for him, the big superstar who sat lonely in his room every night, so you worked up the nerve to speak to him one day. He was sweet, attentive, and very innocent, and you quickly drew him out of his comfort zone. A few kisses and cuddles turned into more risque. He was a virgin when you first met him, and you were completely respectful of that, but after a few awkward fumbling, you decided to take charge and show him how to move, touch and feel, pleasuring both him and you.

The first time Steve made you cum, it was like a light bulb switched in his brain. He was obsessed. The more you taught him about your body, the more he would want to hear your sweet melodic sighs of euphoria, to the point that it was starting to interfere with your work.

Which brings you to today. You’d visited him in his little dressing room at the back of the theatre, intending to get his lunch and ended with your panties on the floor and skirt bunched around the waist and legs over his shoulders as he ate you out to perfection. Every suck and lick had your back bowing and fingers trembling to cover your mouth to stop those outside the door from hearing your multiple orgasms.

Your entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. You were stuck between being wholly exhausted and wanting the moment never to end. Due to past experiences, you knew that Steve’s stamina was devastatingly good due to the super serum. Once, you’d fucked all night, and you couldn’t walk the following day and had to call in sick to the show, which Steve was pink-cheeked and apologetic for, forgetting just how fragile you were compared to him.

You were getting close to that point again, attempting to push against his shoulders weakly, knowing you should stop but not wanting him to because you were so close to your next orgasm. You weren’t sure how many you’d had; all you were aware of was that your pussy was plump from all the stimulation, your clit was throbbing to the point that Steve could feel your heartbeat against his tongue, and your hole ached from the number of times it had clenched and tightened.

“Just one more”, Steve had repeated so many times that you could hear him saying it in your lucid mind. Slumping back against the mirror, the pleasure built, his tongue lapping your juices and stroking your clit, plunging and twitching in your pussy as he held you down on his desk.

The waves of the orgasms throbbed through your entire body, your hands pulling at his hair to move him away from your pussy as you sat up, losing control for a second as your body tried to process the euphoria.

“You’re so beautiful, Doll. You’ve done so well for me”, Steve encouraged, his hands massaging your aching thighs as you tried to catch your breath. As the pulses in your cunt calmed, you leaned forward until your head rested against his shoulder, his arms moving around your hips as he cradled you close.

“I might need to cancel the show”, you say, trying to wiggle your toes but finding your limbs were slow in response.

Steve moved back slightly to look at your flushed face, “You know you can’t do that, Baby. You’re on your last warning. Sorry, I’ll try to stop doing this before shows; sometimes I just can’t help myself.”. He pecks your lips softly, and you lean into the touch and try to slow your breathing to calm your body.

A knock at the door disrupts the embrace, “We need you at the stage door in 1 minute!” The stagehand shouts through the door, and you refrain from groaning.

“Could you help me get dressed, please?”

“Of course!” Steve was as sweet as ever, finding your panties and shorts for your costume and helping to pull them back onto your trembling legs. When you tried to stand and straighten your skirt and top, your knees buckled, but thankfully, he caught you, holding you for a couple of seconds until you found your strength.

Looking in the mirror, you tried not to cringe at the streaks you’d left behind on the surface, and then there was your appearance, completely glazed-over expression, and hair a mess, but you didn’t have time to sort either. Rushing to the door, you cringed internally and how sensitive you felt between your legs and how uncomfortable it was to walk with your pussy slightly swollen.

Steve was behind you, opening the door to allow you to step out and rush to the curtain. Making sure no one else was around, you turned and leaned up to kiss him sweetly, “Break a leg.” you wished him luck before running to join the others, who all gave you exacerbated looks for nearly being late.

The show was nearly a disaster; your legs became heavy halfway through from exhaustion, but thankfully, Steve caught you, somehow managing to play it off as part of the play, catching the damsel before continuing with the show.

Your entire body was warm to the touch, and the bright overhead lights only worsened it. As you danced across the stage, you became increasingly more aware that your panties were drenched, your pussy still flowing with juices, to the point that you were worried it had leaked through your shorts for the audience to see.

By the end, your cheeks ached from fake smiling, and the muscles in your legs were burning to the point that you collapsed on the stairs as you exited the stage. You were exhausted, eyes hardly open as one of the girls asked if you were okay.

“Sweetheart? Are you coming down with something?” the show manager asked, but you waved everyone away.

“I’m fine; I just need to sleep”, you explained whilst thanking one of the other girls who had returned with a glass of water.

“What’s going on? Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, pushing his way through the crowd. Your body heated even more as Steve’s eyes widened briefly before he tried to mask his reaction. It was evident in your contract that you were not allowed to form intimate relationships with the show's star, which of course was Steve, so whatever it was that you had with Steve had to stay hidden, even though you were sure everyone suspected it.

“Everything’s fine, Mr Rogers, she’s just cooling off”, the manager attempted to move his prize possession away, not wanting him to worry about any of the girls and push him back to his awaiting taxi.

“She doesn’t look fine; why don’t I take her to a doctor?” Steve suggested, lowering himself so that you were both eye to eye.

“She doesn’t need a doctor; she’s fine, aren’t you, sweetheart?” the manager tried to reassure, but you were too tired even to respond.

“Ok, let me rephrase this, I’m going to take her to a Doctor, now move out of my way”, Steve demanded, actually standing up to the manager for once as he slid one arm under your knee and the other supporting your back as he lifted you, your head rolling onto his shoulder.

You relaxed into the hold, the sway of it helping to lull you into a half-asleep state. Only when the two of you were alone in the taxi did you decide to speak finally. “I don’t need a doctor, I just need to sleep”.

“I know, baby. I just wanted to get you away from everyone. I’m sorry for going so hard earlier, and I’ll try and calm it down from now on”, Steve apologised, holding your body close to his as the taxi began to move towards the motel you were all staying at.

You grinned, tilting your face towards his, “I didn’t say you had to stop, Steve”.

His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes, a small smile forming on his handsome face. Giving you a quick kiss on your temple, the two of you relaxed into the embrace as you quietly fell asleep.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Cuddle bug

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | ~ 900 words

SUMMARY | Steve comes home from a long mission, and all he wants is to be cuddled up in bed with his favorite person. However, your shared secret threatens to be spilled when your good friend walks in the door and finds the two of you in bed together.

RATING | Teen (T)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established (secret) relationship, use of nickname (Doll).

A/N | This little drabble is written based on a request I received from a sweet Anon! As soon as I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist writing a little something, so I hope you will all enjoy it! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm forever grateful. I love you 🩷

EVENTS Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Secret relationship Masterlist | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Can't Warm Up Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | "That is America's ass."

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Steve has been away on an extended mission—three and a half weeks and counting—and you're missing him more than ever. The two of you started dating only a few months ago, though it mainly takes place behind closed doors. You cannot get enough of one another whenever you are alone. Still, when other people are around, it is strictly professional—apart from the occasional reassuring smile you give one another.

Within the Avengers, there is no opposition to team members dating. Still, Steve has specifically asked to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to explore the connection between you two. It is the perfect way to get to know each other personally, and the last few months have been amazing because of that.

Now, you find yourself in your bedroom, curled up in your comfiest armchair with a good book and Alpine beside you. Since Bucky is on the same mission as Steve, you have taken over her care, and she's purring away in her sleep on the windowsill, enjoying the warm spring sun.

Just as you're about to finish your chapter, you hear a knock on your door, and you look up, expecting Natasha or maybe Tony to come by, but when you see who walks in the door, you smile brightly. Steve is back from his mission.

"Hi, Doll. I missed you," he tells you as he walks into the room, and your book lies abandoned in your chair. He's still wearing his suit and the shield on his back, letting you know he came to visit you right away, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

"Steve, you're back already! I thought you would be gone for another few days!" Your arms are wrapped around his waist as you plaster yourself against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against your cheek as he gives you soft kisses on the top of your head. His hands rub soothingly over your back as he inhales your sweet scent.

"Mission got wrapped up early, so I figured I'd come home to my girl as soon as possible," Steve says. You lift your head to meet his gaze, warmth spreading through your cheeks as he calls you his girl.

"I love it when you call me your girl; it makes me feel special," you say shyly, and Steve can't help but chuckle.

"I'm glad because I cannot stop calling you that," he tells you before kissing you in a sweet, soft kiss. You two take your time to bask in one another's familiarity, but he pulls away when he can feel a shiver run down your spine.

"I think it's time we had some cuddles, Doll. You're shivering," he whispers, and you nod.

"That sounds good. You know I can't warm up properly with you there," you tell him, and he smiles knowingly. Before you know it, Steve has put down the shield, and his suit is folded neatly on top. As he bends down to put his boots away as well, you happen to glance over, and you're met with the glorious sight of Steve's butt being wrapped perfectly by his light blue boxer briefs, highlighting it beautifully.

"Hmm, so that is America's ass," you say jokingly. You have seen it clothed and bare countless times, but you still can't help saying it. The bright red flush covering Steve's cheeks has you smiling wide, and you can't get enough of the sight.

You have also taken your clothes off, being left in your underwear as you crawl under the covers with Steve. Due to the super soldier serum, his body temperature is always warmer than a regular person's, so he makes a perfect cuddle companion during the nights and colder months.

"Welcome back, Steve. I missed you and your warmth so much," you whisper when you're lying in his arms, your leg thrown over his, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. The comforter is pulled up to your chin, and you're just about to fall asleep when you hear a few knocks on your door.

"Y/N? I'm here to pick up Alpine!" you hear Bucky's voice carry through the door before he swings it open, and you immediately sit upright in the bed, clutching the comforter to your chest, leaving Steve exposed in the bed in the process.

"B-Bucky, hi!" you say as embarrassment floods your body that you're caught in bed with your boyfriend. Bucky's face turns bright red as he looks at the two of you, his mouth opening and closing without words as he tries to understand what's happening. Without saying another word, he turns around and closes the door behind him, leaving you two to wonder what just happened.

"I should go talk to him, Doll," Steve says as he leans in for a kiss, which you happily give him.

"Okay, but only if you promise to come back soon. I can't miss you for too long again!" you tell him, and he nods with a smile before jumping into his pants. The rest of his suit and his shield are left behind as he runs after Bucky to explain what is going on between you two.

While you were embarrassed at first, you're also a little relieved that you can finally share the love between you two with someone. This is going to be the first step to telling everyone about your relationship, too. It won't be long before you don't have to carry this secret around anymore, and you're looking forward to that day finally being here.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

bonjour could I please request some beefy professor Steve Roger’s smut? 🫶🤤

Jealous Professor » Steve Rogers (AU)

Pairings: College Professor!Steve Rogers x College Student!Female Reader

Summary: Steve gets jealous when he sees you get a little too friendly with another professor.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, spanking, degrading, name calling (slut), pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Steve watched you from the doorway of his office, leaning against the door frame. You were talking to your Literature professor, Professor Barnes, about the homework. To Steve, it looked like you were flirting with his colleague. He didn’t like that and he was going to do something about it.

“Thank you, Professor Barnes! See you tomorrow!” You say, walking away.

Steve called out for you before you got any further down the hall. You turned around to see your History professor motioning you towards him.

“Yes, Professor Rogers?” You asked.

“I’d like to talk to you in my office.” Steve opens the door. “After you.” He says.

You walked in his office without questioning him. You sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Steve closed and locked the door behind him before taking a seat at his desk.

“Is this about my test?” You asked, worried that you got a bad grade on it.

“No. You got an excellent grade on it. That’s not why I called you in here.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You replied. “Why am I here?” You asked

Steve stood up from his desk chair and walked around his desk to where you’re sitting, leaning against the edge of his desk.

“I called you in here, because I didn’t like the way you were talking to Professor Barnes.” He says.

“I wasn’t disrespecting him if that’s what you’re thinking. I was just asking him a question about the homework he assigned.” You explained.

“That’s not what I meant.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his shirt sleeves threatening to rip around his biceps. “You were getting a little too friendly with him.” He says.

“I was just being nice.” You say innocently.

“Being nice doesn’t involve flirting.” He says.

“Sir, I wasn’t flirting with him.” You answered honestly.

“Here’s the thing…” Steve pushed himself off the edge of his desk. “I’d believe you if you were acting so innocent.” He says.

“I’m not acting at all, sir. I swear.” You say in a pleading voice.

As you’re talking to him, Steve takes a moment to look at what you’re wearing. A short sleeve shirt that shows off your cleavage and a skirt that’s just long enough to cover your ass. He could tell what kind of bra you’re wearing. From what he can see, it looks like some kind of lacy design. It made him wander if you were wearing matching panties with it. He felt his cock grow hard the more he looked at your outfit.

“Stand up.” Steve orders.

You didn’t question him. You stood up and stood in front of him, waiting for further instructions. Steve watched as your hands smoothed out your skirt. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of your cleavage. He pushed himself off of the edge of his desk, getting closer to you.

Without warning or hesitation, Steve kissed you sloppily. Your eyes widened in surprise, catching you off guard. You didn’t pull away or push him away. Your hands grasped onto his button up shirt, clutching the material in your hands and pulled him closer to you.

You gasped when you felt his bulge against your lower stomach. Steve took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. He pulled away from your lips, leaving the two of you breathless. You looked in his eyes, his blue eyes now clouded with lust.

“Bend over my desk. Hands on top of it.” He instructs.

“Yes, Professor.” You replied submissively.

“Call me Steve, sweetheart.” He tells you.

“Yes, Steve.” You replied submissively again.

You bent over his desk, placing your hands on top of it like he told you to. Your ass was sticking out towards him. You looked over your shoulder at Steve to see him bunching your skirt up just above your ass so your panties were exposed to him. Just like he thought, you were wearing panties to match your bra. Lace panties to be exact. Same color and same design.

He hooked a finger in the waistband of your panties, pulling on them and letting go of it. A squeak left your lips when your waistband snapped against your skin. He then hooked his fingers in the waistband again and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles. Your ass and wet pussy are now exposed to him.

A small yelp left your lips when Steve smacked your ass. He then rubbed his fingers between your folds, getting them wet with your slick. He teasingly rubbed your clit in painfully slow circles. You wanted more. You backed yourself against his hand, but that earned you a smack on your ass.

“Be a good girl.” Steve says in a warning voice.

You pouted and looked over your shoulder at him. Steve slid two fingers in your pussy. A gasp fell from your lips. He moved his fingers in and out of you at a decent pace. Your mouth fell open, soft moans left your lips.

Steve’s free hand went underneath your shirt, cupping your breasts through your bra. He gave them each a squeeze before sliding his hand inside of your bra. His fingers rubbed over your nipples and pinched them. A gasp left your lips and your pussy clenched around his fingers.

His hand left your shirt and unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He pulled his cock out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before taking his fingers out of your pussy, making you whine at the loss of the feeling of his fingers. That earned you another smack on your ass.

Steve took a step closer to you. He rubbed his cock against your pussy, getting it wet with your slick. You moaned when his cock bumped your clit. He then lined his cock at your entrance and slid it inside of you, inch by inch. Your mouth fell open and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. You could feel every vein of his cock rubbing along your wet walls as he slid it inside of you.

“So big…” You say more in a gasp.

“You can take it.” Steve gave your ass a gentle pat. “I bet you’re used to taking big cocks like mine.” He says.

When he was fully inside of you, he gave you a short moment before he started thrusting. His hands held onto your hips, bring you back with each thrust. Your hands scrambled to hold onto something. You grabbed onto the edge of the desk, digging your nails in the wood.

Steve moved your hair to the side and leaned forward, the front of his body against your back. He placed kisses along your neck. His teeth nipped on your skin hard enough for hickeys.

“I bet you like this, don’t you, sweetheart?” Steve’s voice is husky. “I bet you’re loving the fact that you’re getting fucked by your professor.” He says.

“Mhmm, yes!” You answered more in a gasp.

“Was it your intention to make me jealous by talking to Professor Barnes?” He asks.

“No!” You replied in a moan. “I was- oh fuck! I was just talking to him. I swear!” You say.

Steve hummed to himself as he continued to fuck you. You were actually talking to Professor Barnes about the homework he assigned, but you were also flirting with him a little bit.

“Maybe I should call him in here.” He suggests.

You moaned at the thought of him doing exactly that.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He chuckles. “Maybe you do want him to see you getting fucked like a little slut.” He says.

You got even more turned on when he called you a slut. You shouldn’t have, but you did. It was something about the way he said it that turned you on.

Steve put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you up straight so your back was against the front of his body. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head and your mouth fell open when you could feel his cock hitting all of the right spots at this angle.

Steve pulled your shirt up above your bra covered breasts. He then took your breasts out of your bra and held them in his hands. He gave both of them a squeeze, causing you to gasp loudly. One of his hands left one of your breasts to cover your mouth to keep you quiet.

“You gotta be quiet, honey. Don’t want anyone to hear us.” Steve said in your ear. “Or maybe you want Professor Barnes to hear us. Is that it?” He asks. “His office is right next door. Maybe I should pin you against the wall so he can hear the slutty little noises you make for me.” He says, chuckling a little bit.

You whined at his words. You reached your hands up, blindly feeling for his hair. You found his hair with ease and ran your fingers through it, tugging on it. Your back arched off of his body when his cock hit your sweet spot perfectly. Your pussy clenched around his cock at the feeling.

“Right there!” You tell him, followed by a moan.

“Aww, did I find your little spot?” He asks in a cooing voice.

“Mhmm.” You hummed in response, unable to form any coherent words.

His cock hit your sweet spot again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You bit your bottom lip, moaning soft when you felt Steve’s beard against your skin when he placed kisses along your neck. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access. You gasped when his teeth bit your skin hard enough for a hickey.

You were caught off guard when one of his hands went in between your legs and began rubbing your clit, moans leaving your lips. Your legs clamped around his hand. Steve’s free hand opened your legs by grabbing onto your thigh and spread your legs apart.

“Keep your legs open.” Steve says.

Steve wrapped his arm around your waist just below your breasts and fucked you harder. His cock hit your sweet spot perfectly almost every time. His hand that was on your thigh moved upwards to your clit and started rubbing it. Your pussy clenched around his cock at the feeling.

“I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock, sweetheart.” He says raspy in your ear.

His dirty words alone made you want to cum on the spot. You reached a hand down to his wrist and held on to it, keeping his hand there. Steve lightly chuckles in your ear and rubbed your clit faster. He moaned when your cunt clenched around his cock. That’s when your orgasm was beginning to build up.

“Professor-” A small squeak left your lips when Steve smacked your clit. “Steve!” You corrected yourself. “I’m getting close.” You tell him.

“I know you are, honey. I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock.” He says huskily.

A whine left your lips the more you felt your orgasm building up. Steve applied more pressure to your clit as he continued to rub it. Your legs began to tremble the more his fingers rubbed your clit and the faster he fucked you.

“Steve, I’m going to cum.” You whined. “Please let me cum.” You begged desperately.

“Since you’ve been such a good girl for me… go ahead, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear, kissing just below your ear.

That sent you over the edge. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you bit your bottom lip to keep your moans quieter when you came. Steve gave your clit one last rub to help you ride out your orgasm before focusing on his own orgasm. He wasn’t too far behind you. His thrusts became sloppy the closer he got to his orgasm. He bit down on your neck to muffle his moans when he came inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

His thrusts came to a slow stop and left his cock inside of you while the two of you stood there and caught your breath. Your legs were a little bit wobbly and Steve wrapped one of his arms around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from falling. After a moment, Steve pulled his cock out of you, making you whine at the loss of contact of his cock. He cleaned the two of you up with tissues before you guys readjusted your clothes.

As you were about to pick up your bag, Steve grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, kissing you passionately. You moaned against his lips. You picked up your bag when he let go of you. You were met by Professor Barnes when you opened the door. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and Bucky smirked to himself when he seen the marks Steve left on your neck.

“See you in class tomorrow, sweetheart.” Steve says to you and smacked your ass before you walked out of his office.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[whereireid]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | masterlist

pairing: senator!steve rogers x fem!reader

⍟ — nsfw content ahead. soft!dom steve. married life. housewife kink. oral [f receiving]. degradation of reader.

Summary: Your husband, Senator Steve Rogers, has been acting strange recently. He makes it up to you after he catches you snooping.

You don’t want to snoop on your husband.

Honest, you don’t.

Sometimes, though, duty calls. It feels like a crime to be in Steve’s office, perched at his desk, attempting to hack into his computer.

You’ve tried three different passwords, now. The first, the name of your daughter, and her date of birth — BeauRogers2012. The second, your anniversary — 19October2007. And, finally, the name of the family dog — CooperRogers.

Nothing. There’s nothing. All to no avail, the screen lighting a shade of red with each incorrect guess, your lips tugging down into a frown as you try to pinpoint exactly what his password could be.

If it’s not Beau, and it’s not you, and it’s not the family dog… then what is it?

Your eyes scan his office, desperate for a moment of realisation. You want something to click, your eyes dragging from a photograph of him and Bucky, to the miniature American flag which sits on his desk.

That’s it.

107thInfantryRegiment.

The computer lets you in. Steve’s desktop background is a photograph of you, him and Beau — baby Beau, curled in her daddy’s arms, asleep, in a pumpkin patch.

You pause. You feel bad, snooping, hesitating as you stare at the pixelated desktop background.

You feel awful, but you have to know what he’s getting up to.

Your lips press together as you swallow away the tightness in your throat, dragging the mouse towards his emails. Before you press down, you hesitate — Steve has never given you a reason not to trust him.

Yet, you’re in, now. You might as well look whilst you’re there, and you’re glad that you do, because a particular name piques your interest as you snoop through his emails.

Sharon Carter.

Steve’s ex-assistant, although you’d always assumed she was more than that. She helped your husband climb to the position of Senator — she was his number one fan, more obsessed with him than you.

Your brows knit together. Steve had told you that him and Sharon no longer speak, as a result of her switching to the Republican to spite him. This — these emails, which go back for months — is unfathomable evidence that he’s been lying to you. Your throat feels cotton dry as you frantically scroll, unable to comprehend that they’ve been communicating for months without you knowing.

“What are you doing?”

Fear cracks through your body like a whip. You feel like a thin sheet of ice, cold flooding through your body as your eyes dart up from the computer screen, focused on your husband, who appears unamused by what he’s found.

“So, what are you doing?” Steve repeats when you don’t answer, his lips pursed as he stares at you. The suit he’s wearing is somewhat tight on his arms, and you can see his muscles flex beneath his clothes. “Be a big girl and use your words, honey.”

“You’re — you’re messaging Sharon Carter.”

His eyebrows quirk upwards in amusement. “You went through my emails,” he comments, “without my permission.”

“You’re messaging Sharon Carter,” you repeat, your voice coming out a whisper.

The look that he gives you is degrading. It’s a look of pity — his jaw ticks slightly as he cocks his head, his tongue darting over his plump, pink lips, leaving a glistening sheen in its wake. “And you’re going through my emails,” he reiterates, pushing himself off of the doorframe. “Without my permission.”

“Are you cheating on me?”

An amused expression flitters over Steve’s face as he approaches you. You feel timid in his chair, his large frame overbearing as he looms over you, the blue irises of his eyes impossibly sheathed by his black and blown pupils.

“Cheating?” He asks, beginning to lower himself to your height. You brows furrow in confusion as he kneels in front of you, his hands placing themselves on your knees. “No. Why? Did you think that I was?”

“Yes.”

“Liar,” Steve whispers from beneath you, your skin prickling with goosebumps as his fingers run over the pleated fabric of your skirt. “You just wanted to know what I’ve been doing.”

You push at Steve’s head, forcing him to look up at you. You frown, a twisted warmth pooling inside of your stomach as his hand caresses the plump flesh of your thighs. “Yeah. You’ve been doing her.”

He snorts. “If I wanted Barbie, I would’ve had Barbie.” His hand beckons your thighs apart, and you flush as his hums in content. “No underwear. Whore.”

Your face flushes with warmth. "That’s what you like, isn’t it?”

Steve grins, his fingers parting your folds softly, his knuckle pressing against your swollen clit. You try to kill the moan which climbs up your throat before it can slip past your lips, but it refuses to die. “Like music to my ears,” he comments, his stubble grazing your skin as he peppers deliberate kisses to your thighs, his tongue a cool stimulant to your hot skin, “you’re a naughty girl, you know? Going through my things and then getting all worked up over what you find.”

You can’t bare to look down at his smug face. His blue eyes twinkle as he gazes up at you, and you force your eyes shut, the delicious, dirty feeling of desire brooding inside of you. It pulls at your heart and burns wildly inside of you, only to be smothered by the feeling of his fingers gliding through your folds.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what you found?”

You shake your head, your eyes scrunching shut as his tongue finally makes contact with your heat. “Oh, God,” you whimper as he glides the muscle through your folds, his fingers pushing inside of your cunt.

“Not God. Just Steve.”

His lips twitch, tugging upwards with a smile. Pleasure rides through you in a gentle wave as his tongue makes contact with your clit, his motions gentle as he suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

It feels so deliciously wrong. You’re in his office, sat in his chair, with him between your legs. He wasn’t even meant to find you here — you were supposed to be in the kitchen when he got home, but you’d lost track of time.

“Since you won’t tell me, I’ll make an assumption, and I want you to tell me if I’m right.” His voice is gravely, rumbling against your cunt, and you shiver as his fingers curl inside of you. “You went through my emails. You saw Sharon Carter’s name and you had to click, and you read them in detail and you found information.”

“Yes,” you say shakily, groaning as his nose nuzzles into your pelvic bone, his tongue rolling small circles into your sensitive bud. “Yes, I read them. She’s — she’s a bitch and I don’t want you talking to her.”

His brows quirk upwards, his fingers carefully scissoring your tight cunt open. You clench down around him, the pointed look he’s shouting you making you tense. “She’s my spy. Why else would she have switched to Republican last minute?”

“Because you married me and she wishes it was her.”

A wave of pleasure ripples through you as he suckles on your clit, his fingers heavenly as they roll inside of you. “Is she the one getting her cunt eaten in my office, honey?” When you don’t answer, he hums, his voice muffled as he continues to roll his tongue up and down your sticky, wet folds, “no, she’s not, so stop being a brat and let me finish speaking.”

As if to make a point, his fingers still inside of you, and your chest burns with disappointment. “Okay. I’ll stop being a brat,” you submit to him, your voice shaking slightly as you buck your pelvis towards his hand.

“Good girl." His praise makes you shiver, a delicious pleasure crackling through you as his fingers contain their steady motions, his lips peppering soft kisses against your heat intermittently

“The information that you found is very important people, only meant to be seen by people in government.” A delicious pleasure cracks through you like a whip as his fingers glide through your glistening folds, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he rolls his thumb over your sensitive clit. “And, honey, you're not in government. You've got too much of a dumb baby brain for that."

You whine, your legs trembling involuntary as Steve licks up a deliberate stripe up your cunt, his tongue flattening against your clit. "I'm not dumb," you protest weakly, your thighs tensing as his fingers curl inside of you, the lewd squelching of your cunt echoing around his office walls.

Your body becomes electric with sparks, exploding with ecstasy as his tongue licks stripes up and down your slick. It's so intimate, so gentle — his movements are precise, your legs jolting at every movement, every lick.

"Really? You're not?" Steve pulls away, tutting from below you. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought that only dumb wives went through their husband's stuff without permission."

"I'm sorry," you say.

"You're not," he replies, his tongue flat as he swirls his muscle around your swollen bud, "but that's okay, honey. I don't expect my wife and her dumb, baby brain to feel sorry for me. I'm the man of this house. I don't need feeling sorry for."

His kisses grow sloppy, his nose pressing heavily into your pelvis. You let out a shaky breath, your stomach flipping as Steve's fingers glide in and out of your cunt. A moan catches in your throat, and you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so.

Steve's movements are skilled, deliberate. You melt into the office chair, the leather fabric growing slick beneath you as you softly behind to grind against his face. He's slow and teasing, his tongue swirling around you bud, nipping at it softly. The pinching pain makes you gasp, your breath hitching in your throat as he groans against your cunt.

"Come on, honey. I know you want to let go," he purrs against your cunt, the sensation sending shivers up your spine. "I know you're not holding that much of a grudge against me that you're denying yourself of an orgasm."

You pout. He's right — of course he's right, he's your husband and he knows what's best for you. You finally allow yourself to relax, fully, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as Steve's movements makes your stomach tighten.

And then, it happens. You grow tired of holding back, needy and desperate, and Steve's fingers curl inside of you again, and you let go. Your slick paints his face, your legs trembling as he laps at your heat, his groans sending sparks to your core.

By the time he pulls away, you feel weak. The sight of him only makes you grow weaker, his chin glistening with your slick, his eyes black and blown, a sultry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His hand runs over his lips and he hums, satisfied with the orgasm that he drew from you.

"I'm sorry, honey. You should have never seen those emails, or the documents attached to them. They're not for you to be concerned about." His hand runs over your thighs, his motions gentle and soft as he caresses your skin. Steve's lips purse, his voice dropping dangerously low as he speaks. "But if you ever go through my emails again, you'll be in serious trouble. You got that, honey?"

Your body grows stiff as he reaches past you to turn the computer off, his lips nestling against your head in the process. The kiss he plants to your forehead is soft and gentle, and you smile up at him.

“Yes, Steve.”

You nod your head like an obedient little wife, and he smiles down at you as he does so.

Domesticated bliss keeps him sane.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

To Know Him Is To Love Him

summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.

Anon's 1K Celebration

to know him is to love him.

to know him is to stand by him.

to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.

to know him is to hope that one day he'll finally see.

to know him is to be broken by him.

you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.

three months ago...

you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.

you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.

"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."

"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.

"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."

your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"

"you know what i meant. you're my friend."

you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.

"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."

two months ago...

"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."

"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."

"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"

"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.

"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.

steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.

sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."

you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."

"soulmate?" sam teases.

you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.

how blind can he be?

one month ago...

"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."

it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."

"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"

you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."

"please, i need you."

putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.

his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.

you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.

you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.

to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.

he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.

you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.

you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."

"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."

his best girl.

he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.

"i missed you so much."

you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."

"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."

you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."

an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"

you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."

"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."

"i understand."

2 weeks ago...

you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.

each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.

you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.

in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.

time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.

you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.

still, he sought you out.

you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.

you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.

at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.

your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.

"steve?"

"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."

"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"

"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."

you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."

"thank you," he sighs in relief.

"what happened?"

"the worst date of my life."

you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.

and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"

"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."

you suck in a breath, "steve..."

these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.

suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.

and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.

you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.

"steve.." you sigh against his lips.

and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."

you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"

"i should go."

and he leaves without another word.

your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.

1 week ago...

he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.

to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.

he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.

"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.

you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.

you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."

you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.

now...

you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.

the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.

"steve," you try to interrupt.

"and all i want -"

"steve."

"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"

"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."

his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"

"you know why," you spit at him.

"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."

"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."

"i don't understand."

"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."

"they why do you answer the phone?"

"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."

"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"

"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."

"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.

a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."

"before? before what?"

each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."

"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."

"and then you kissed me!"

he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."

"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."

"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."

your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."

steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."

"why did you call me the other night?"

"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."

"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."

he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."

you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"

"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."

"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."

"i do love you."

you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."

"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."

"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."

he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."

"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."

steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."

you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."

"please," steve begs.

"goodbye, steve."

you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.

a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.

to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[witchywithwhiskey]

a birthday ended with a bang

pairing: best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: your best friend picks you up for some ice cream on his birthday on the fourth of july and things escalate.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, sexual tension, kissing, dry humping/dry sex, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, baby), aftercare, very quick friends to lovers

word count: 4.1k

a/n: ooof i have been suffering from the worst writer's block and i seriously didn't think i was gonna be able to post anything for steve's birthday, which would've made me so sad. i finally got through the worst of it i think, as of yesterday, but so this was written in a rush and i'm sorry if it's not very good but i tried!!!! anyway i hope everyone has a happy steve's birthday ❤️🤍💙

I’m picking you up in 10.

It was just after sunset on the Fourth of July, the sky still fading from a glowing indigo into the deep midnight blue of night, when the text from your best friend Steve Rogers came through. 

His text came as a surprise. Steve had been scheduled to work all day and he’d said he just wanted to go home and sleep after, so you hadn’t thought you’d see him. Instead, you had plans to celebrate his birthday on the weekend, but you’d have been a liar if you’d said you weren’t disappointed you wouldn’t get to see him on his actual birthday.

So you were excited by his text—but less so by the implication he would be taking you somewhere.

After all, you’d already gotten comfy and cozy in your bed, wearing a skimpy tank top and shorts you’d sleep in, and you didn’t want to get dressed again. Thankfully, you knew Steve wouldn’t care what you wore, but you were a nice friend, so as you dragged yourself out of your comfortable bed, you sent him a warning. 

i’m already in my pjs

By the time he replied, five minutes had already gone by. You’d managed to collect your keys and wallet from your bag, shoving them in a little wristlet that you looped around your arm as you stuffed your feet into some sandals. You read his text as you pushed through the door to your little cottage, prepared to wait the other five minutes for him in the cool July evening. 

Idc what you’re wearing. It’s my birthday and we’re getting ice cream.

You snorted a laugh, hearing your best friend’s bossy tone in your head, shaking your head to yourself at how much you loved it while you locked your door. Shoving your phone in your wristlet, you sat down on the top step of your porch and watched the neighborhood kids run through the yards along the street waving sparklers through the air.

Steve’s truck rolled to a stop in front of your small yard exactly 10 minutes after he’d texted you. An easy smile pulled up the corners of your mouth and you bounded down your wooden stairs, hurling yourself into the cab of your best friend’s truck.

“Happy birthday!” you cried as soon as you were inside. You tossed your wristlet on the dash and slid across the bench seat to throw your arms around Steve’s neck, hugging him tight while you pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. 

His low laugh was like warm honey trickling down your spine, his breath skimming past your cheek and making goosebumps raise all up and down your arms. Your heart thumped in your chest and you buried your face in your best friend’s shoulder, ignoring the way your body was reacting—like it always did when you got too close to Steve. 

Seemingly unaware of your plight, Steve’s hand settled on your forearm, squeezing softly before his warm palm slid up to your shoulder, his other arm digging into the seat and wrapping around your waist to haul you closer. You let out a little squeak of surprise, burying your face further in his shoulder to hide the fact that you were enjoying the way he held you far too much. 

“Thank you, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, resting his head on the crown of yours as he hugged you back. For a long, long moment, the two of you sat entwined together in Steve’s truck, just enjoying the feeling of being close, though you suspected it meant much more to you than it did to your best friend.

Finally, when you realized the hug might be getting weird, and bordering on something more-than-friendly, you extricated yourself from Steve, smiling up at him as you broke the quiet. “Let’s go get some ice cream,” you said, your voice a little lower and raspier than normal as you stared into his achingly familiar blue eyes. 

A grin spread slowly across Steve’s face, and you felt your heart beat unsteadily in your chest at the devastating handsomeness of the expression. But thankfully Steve looked away and your lungs spasmed, begging you to breathe, so you sucked in some air while your best friend grabbed a ball of fabric from the backseat of his truck.

“Here, I’ve got the windows down,” he said, pushing the garment into your hands. 

Only when you shook it out did you see it was one of Steve’s hoodies, the navy blue sweatshirt massive to fit over your best friend’s broad shoulders. On the front, to one side and below the collar, Steve’s name was stitched into the cotton. Your heart gave another flip at the thought of wearing Steve’s name stitched over your chest. 

“I don’t want you getting cold,” your best friend murmured, his voice lower and rougher. When you looked back at him, Steve wore an expression you couldn’t quite interpret, his gaze almost possessive. It made something low in your belly squirm.

Swallowing thickly, you turned your attention to tugging the hoodie over your head, inhaling the familiar scent of Steve’s cologne. For the brief moment when your face was hidden, you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling your body heat—from more than just the warmth of the sweatshirt. Then you pulled the fabric down over your head and stuffed your arms into the sleeves.

The hoodie was big on you, but you loved the feel of it, and you smiled up at Steve to show your appreciation. Your best friend was wearing a pleased smirk, his eyes a little hooded as they raked over the sight of you in his sweatshirt. 

“Looks good on you, sunshine,” he rumbled, something new in his tone that you’d never heard before. 

“Thanks, Stevie,” you whispered shyly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You felt a little awkward under the weight of his gaze, his eyes feeling like they were burning you up from the inside out, so you gave your best friend a goofy grin and said, “Now’m all nice and toasty.” 

Steve snorted a laugh, which broke the tension between the two of you, the mood in the truck lightening instantly. Shaking his head and wiping a hand over his face, Steve turned back to the steering wheel, and shifted his truck into drive.

You started to move into the passenger seat, intent on buckling up, but Steve’s big hand shot out and he grabbed your thigh, just below where the hem of your pajama shorts ended. His palm was warm, his fingers slightly rough with callouses, and you were immediately, acutely aware of the fact that Steve had never, ever touched you there before.

Heat crashed through your core as you sucked in a gasp of surprise. Instinctively, your fingers closed around your best friend’s wrist, holding him where he was, making sure he kept touching you. You stared down at his hand, your mind spinning a little at the sight of him clutching your thigh.

Steve’s fingers dug lightly into your thigh, almost reflexively, like he couldn’t help himself from seeing just how soft you were beneath his hand. Before you could do more than squeak out a quiet sound of delight, though, Steve pulled away and cleared his throat. The fingers of the hand that had been touching you curled and flexed like he already missed your softness.

“Want you close,” Steve muttered, his tone almost apologetic, like was asking for forgiveness for grabbing you so suddenly. His eyes dropped to somewhere near your feet and you watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Please, sunshine.” His plea was rough and so quiet you had a hard time hearing it over the sound of the fireworks your neighbors were setting off at random intervals.

“‘Course, Steve,” you said, your own voice soft and breathy, almost sounding sultry to your ears. You swallowed to wash away some of the throatiness, and tried to put on a light, friendly tone to steer you and Steve back to something normal—not whatever alternate universe you’d entered when you’d gotten in his truck. “You want birthday cuddles, you’ll get birthday cuddles.”

Steve let out a small snort and, as you watched, a tension you hadn’t realized had been there drained from his shoulders. Your best friend’s eyes raised back to yours, a flicker of something restless and reckless coursing through you while a small smirk tugged at the corners of his soft lips. 

“Yeah, sunshine, gimme some birthday cuddles.” 

When you’d said the words, they had sounded friendly, innocent even. But there was something in Steve’s voice that sent a shiver racing down your spine, heat simmering between your thighs. You told yourself he hadn’t intended his words to have such a reaction and pushed your body’s desirous response to the back of your mind as you shifted into the middle seat.

Carefully, you tucked yourself into Steve’s side, wrapping your arms around his bicep and clinging to him like he was your favorite stuffed animal. The bare skin of your leg brushed against the rough denim of his jeans and you trembled slightly, the sensation feeling far more erotic than it should. Steve’s hand landed on your leg just above your knee.

It was, ostensibly, a much more friendlier grip on you, but you felt arousal flare, hot and quick, in your core. Again, you ignored it and tipped your face up, planting your chin on the edge of Steve’s broad shoulder as you smiled up at him. Steve ducked down, kissing your nose and making you giggle, seemingly back to his normal self—your slightly silly best friend.

“Alright, let’s get some ice cream,” Steve rumbled, repeating your words while he gave your knee a squeeze, using his other hand to turn his truck around on your street and head in the direction of town.

There was a slight chill in the air as it swirled through the open windows of the truck cab, the heat of the July day having burned off and leaving only the coolness of night. Thanks to Steve’s hoodie, and the way your body was pressed into his warmth, you didn’t feel anything but comfortable, the breeze tickling your cheeks and making you smile. 

For a little while, you rode in silence with your best friend, but your mind kept straying to the feeling of Steve’s hand on your leg, to the memory of him gripping your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his big hands roaming all over your body, groping your thighs and hips…and other things. 

To distract yourself, you raised your voice above the wind and asked, “How was work?”

“It was fine,” Steve answered, his deep rumble sending a tremor of delight through your body. 

His eyes were on the road since he was navigating his truck through the town where you both lived, making turns to get to the small ice cream shop that would be open late for the holiday business. Still, Steve managed to shoot you a smile that made your insides flutter as he went on. 

“I would’ve much rather gone to the fair with you, though.”

A melty, gooey heat swirled in your belly and you squeezed his arm in yours, hiding a big, beaming grin in your best friend’s shoulder at his comment. When you managed to get control of yourself so you didn’t look like a lovesick fool, you raised your face again.

“We’re going on Saturday,” you reminded him, still smiling a little goofily. “Are you going to win me a new stuffie?” 

“Sunshine,” Steve started, using one hand to turn his truck into the small parking lot of the ice cream shop. “I’m going to win you all the stuffies.” His voice was warm and affectionate and you couldn’t help the way your heart beat unsteadily at his promise. Your best friend was none the wiser, though, as he parked his truck and turned to you. “C’mon.”

Steve helped you climb down from his truck, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked into the shop. It was busy, families and groups of friends getting some last-minute ice cream before heading over to the fireworks just outside of town. Steve and you fell into an easy conversation, your best friend asking you about your day to pass time while you waited in line. 

Once it was your turn to order, you asked for your favorite in a cone, then Steve got a couple scoops of dark chocolate in a sugar cone. You fought with Steve over who was going to pay. He insisted he should pay because he’d dragged you out of bed, and you argued it was his birthday and there was no way you were going to let him pay. 

Unfortunately, Steve’s arms were longer than yours and he was able to shove his card across the counter farther than you could. Grumbling about your stubborn best friend, you dropped a couple dollars into the tip jar and grabbed your ice cream. Steve followed you out, laughing at your poutiness and led you back to his truck, opening the driver side door for you and holding your cone while you got in.

Without being asked, you sat in the middle seat again, and held Steve’s ice cream while he drove, pushing it in his face whenever it started dripping. Both of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of him licking up the dripping ice cream while trying to drive by the time Steve pulled onto a dirt road that led up a hill beyond the edge of town.

After a few minutes, the trees parted into a clearing at the top of the hill and Steve rolled his truck to a stop, putting it in park overlooking the field where the town’s Fourth of July fireworks display would be. Wordlessly, you handed him his ice cream and the two of you sat in comfortable silence waiting for the show to begin while you enjoyed your sweet treat together. 

Steve finished his cone first, and you could feel his gaze on you while you licked up the last remnants of creamy goodness. You popped the last little bit of your cone into your mouth with a satisfied hum, your tongue licking sticky sweetness from your lips. 

“You have something on your…” Steve trailed off when you turned to him, his eyes dropping to your mouth and sliding along the curve of them. 

You felt his gaze like a physical thing, heat settling heavily in your core as warmth bloomed between your thighs. Then his thumb was following the the path of his eyes, swiping away some ice cream from the edge of your mouth that your tongue hadn’t been able to reach. 

Acting on impulse, and not questioning where it came from, you chased after Steve’s thumb, your tongue darting out to click the sweetness from the pad of his finger. Since your eyes were fixed on your best friend’s face, you watched his blue gaze darken and go heavy-lidded, his own mouth falling open with surprise. 

Heat filled your cheeks, making your face feel like it was on fire. “Umm,” you said, not knowing what else to say. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to apologize for licking your best friend, but just then, the first boom, pop and fizzle of fireworks sounded. Dazzling red light distracted you from Steve for a moment, dragging your eyes away to watch the fireworks display begin. You’d jumped at the first boom, the loud noise surprising you.

It was nothing, though, compared to the shock you felt when Steve grabbed your face, turned you back to him and ducked his head to capture your lips in a fierce kiss. Air filled your lungs as you sucked in a sharp breath, your body frozen while you sat there stunned, unable to do anything but feel the softness of Steve’s lips against yours.

Another sharp boom from overhead shocked you enough to make you jump again, and suddenly you remembered how to move. Your hands curled into the front of Steve’s shirt, clinging to him as you surged forward, pressing your lips harder against your best friend’s. 

Steve groaned low in his throat and your response seemed to unleash something within your best friend. Between one breath and the next, he was hauling you into his lap, your legs were straddling his thighs and his mouth was doing its best to devour yours.

You could taste the chocolate on his tongue as it slipped between your lips, exploring every inch of you and stroking against your own. Giddy excitement and heated desire swirled through your body, making you feel like you could float away as you and your best friend tasted and explored each other. 

Your hands uncurled from Steve’s shirt and slid up his shoulders, diving into the soft blond hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned again when you raked your nails softly against his scalp, his mouth going soft and slack as tremors of delight wracked his broad shoulders. 

“Fuck, sunshine,” Steve grunted, his hands pushing beneath the hem of the hoodie you wore so he could grope your hips. You rocked into him, wringing another moan of pleasure from your best friend when your heated core pressed against the bulge in his jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about feeling you like this.”

“Steve, I—”

Your response was cut short by your best friend’s teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you whine and grind harder against his lap. Steve swallowed your sounds of pleasure, his big hands groping and kneading the soft flesh of your hips and thighs like he couldn’t get enough. It was better than you ever could’ve imagined.

“That’s it, sunshine, ride your best friend’s bulge,” Steve rumbled, a little bit of teasing in his tone. His lips trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He sucked on the skin over your pounding pulse, pulling a whimpering sound from your mouth that was unlike any noise you’d ever made. “Ya gonna come on my cock, baby? Gonna come before we even take our clothes off?”

Your best friend’s filthy words poured over you like gasoline on a fire, turning the heat in your blood into a raging inferno. “Steve, god, please, I need…” You tried to form a coherent thought, your lips gasping for breath in between every false start, your hips working harder and faster as you chased your pleasure.

“Good girl, baby, take what you need,” Steve cooed in your ear, his hands slipping beneath your tank top and groping your tits. He plucked at your nipples, rolling the pebbled peaks between his fingers and making your eyes roll back in your head, your loud moans filling the cab of his truck and nearly drowning out the sounds of the fireworks from the field beyond. “Ride my bulge, sunshine, make yourself come all over my cock.” 

You were making a mess in your panties and shorts, your arousal soaking through the thin garments until you were certain you were leaving a wet spot behind on Steve’s jeans, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when your clit was rubbing just right against the bulge pressing against his fly. 

“Oh god, Steve, ‘m gonna…” 

Your hips worked frantically, humping against Steve’s cock through both your clothes while he murmured encouraging words in your ear and played with your tits until he figured out what made you squirm and writhe the most. Then he kept that up until you were suddenly at the edge.

“Come for me, sunshine, come for your best friend.”

Steve’s words were what did you in. His soft, murmured urging pushed you off the ledge and sent you tumbling into pleasure as you came for him.

Your arms locked around your best friend’s shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck as bliss like you’d never known swept through your body, leaving you a shaking, trembling mess. Mindless moans and whimpers slipped from your lips, your hips still bucking on Steve’s lap as you rode out your release.

It wasn’t until Steve let loose a guttural groan, a warm wetness spreading through the jeans pressed against your bare thighs, that you realized he was coming too. You wrenched your eyes open, your gaze locking with his, seeing your own pleasure mirrored in his sparkling blue depths. Then your mouths were colliding, both of you having surged forward to meet somewhere in the middle.

The kiss was messy, mouths sliding and teeth knocking, both of you swallowing down the pleasured sounds of the other. Steve’s hands gripped your hips hard, fingers digging into your softness, helping you rock on his lap while you both rode out your releases and shuddered through the last remnants of pleasure together. 

Finally, when you were sated, your lips broke free and you pressed your forehead to Steve’s, closing your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. You could hardly believed what had just happened, and your mind struggled to catch up. 

“Christ, sunshine,” Steve rasped, his own chest still heaving shallowly. His hands were idly kneading your hips, like he was soothing any pain that might be there. “I really didn’t plan on doing anything more than getting ice cream for my birthday, but this was—wow.”

You giggled at the awe in Steve’s voice, leaning back enough that you could see him properly. His handsome, familiar face was slack from satisfaction, a dazed smile curving his mouth. Unable to help yourself, you ducked forward and sucked his lower lip into your mouth, making him groan like he was in pain. Beneath you, you felt his cock twitch, and you laughed again as you sat back.

“If you want, we can ditch the rest of the fireworks show and go back to my place?” you suggested, an eager smile on your face. 

Steve chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning forward until every inch of your chests were pressed together. You could feel the steady beating rhythm of his heart against your sternum, making your smile soften as you melted in your best friend’s arms.

“Sunshine, the fireworks are already over,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a kiss. When he broke away, he left you panting. “And if you think I’m doing anything other than taking you home and taking you to bed…” He trailed off, getting distracted by pressing kisses against your jaw. 

You hummed in acknowledgement, but then a thought suddenly occurred to you and you had to bite back a laugh. “Your birthday is on the Fourth of July,” you began in a leading tone. “And you know what that means, Stevie?” 

Instead of responding, Steve sank his teeth lightly into skin over your thrumming pulse, sucking and licking like he was intent on marking you with his mouth. Your thoughts scattered for a moment, your head tipping to the side to give him better access while your fingers raked idly through his soft blond hair.

It took you a second, but you managed to finish your thought. 

“Because it’s the Fourth of July, we have to end your birthday with a bang,” you murmured, unable to stop yourself from giggling at your own joke.

Steve, on the other hand, groaned. His mouth abandoned your neck as he buried his face in your chest, reluctant laughter shaking his shoulders. Before you could poke him and get him to admit he liked your joke, Steve was flipping you onto your back, laying you down on his truck’s bench seat and slotting his hips between your thighs. His revived bulge bumped against your heated core, making you moan softly.

“Y’know what, sunshine? You’re right,” Steve rumbled, his blue eyes sparkling with humor and affection as he stared down at you. There was so much emotion in his gaze, it nearly stole all the breath from your lungs. “We’ll end my birthday with a bang.” His hands began to strip you out of the hoodie he’d given you to wear, his gaze hungry and determined. “We’re gonna see if I can make you scream louder than those fireworks.” 

Your laughter dissolved into a hot, hungry heat. You pulled Steve down at the same moment he ducked his head, your lips crashing together in a fiery kiss that fogged up the windows of his truck, your bodies working together toward the same goal.

Between you and your best friend, you made sure the Fourth of July—and, more importantly, Steve’s birthday—ended with a bang.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hello,Can you write Steve Rogers smut with the age gap? Please

hi baby, I thought I’d do something a bit different and instead of an older steve… we’re gonna have younger steve with older reader🫣 this was only supposed to be short… don’t know what happened.

summary - steve knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way towards his neighbour, especially since you’re married.

warning - smut, cheating, age gap, swearing, slut is used, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips.

Steve knew this was wrong, he shouldn’t be feeling this type of way towards you. Especially with you being married, you and your husband lived right next door to him. It was wrong of him to lust after you, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when you’d smile so prettily at him when you’d leave your house or accidentally leaving some skin exposed when you wore that silk robe of yours.

Steve couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times he’d tug on his throbbing cock to you. The way your plump breasts would jiggle with each movement or how your arse would bounce and your hips would sway were stuck in his mind, causing him to constantly be hard.

He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat away as he stopped for a split second. Stretching his back slightly as the lawnmower rumbles in front of him.

“Hiya Stevie!” Steve’s head whips around so fast at the sound of your voice, almost stumbling on his feet. You chuckle, waving and he gulps, taking in the tight but flowing sundress that you’re wearing, Steve’s mind imagines how you’d feel against him while wearing it, bending you over the railing and lifting your dress so he can watch himself slide deep inside of you.

Steve clears his throat, lifting his hand in a wave. “Hello, Mrs. Drysdale.” He nods before beginning to move, mowing the lawn.

“You look like you need a drink. Why don’t you come on up? I just made some lemonade. Wouldn’t want you to overheat yourself.” Steve stops again, looking over as you talk. His eyes drift down as you tilt your head and lean against the railing, your breasts pushing up causing his cock to twitch.

“I—I wouldn’t want to be a bother, ma’am and I don’t think your husband would appreciate that.” He practically snarls as he mentions your husband. The man was the biggest arse he had ever encountered and didn’t seem to treat you like the goddess you were. It made him wonder why you even married a man like that.

You wave your hand, dismissing his words. “Don’t worry bout him, Sugar. He’s left me all alone for the week.” Steve’s dick swells as you pout, big, wide eyes staring down at him. “I’ll be inside if ya wanna take up my offer.” He watches you spin and disappear into the house.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He fights with himself, “Do not go in there.” He mutters, continuing with the mowing before he suddenly slams his hand down and turns the machine off. “Fuck it. It’s just for a drink. Nothing else, Steve. Don’t think so much into it.” He growls to himself as he stalks across his lawn and up your stairs, awkwardly opening the front door and walking in. “Mrs. Drysdale?” He calls out.

“In here, Sugar!” The moment Steve rounds the corner, he chokes, hands immediately shooting to the front of his jeans. You are bent over, checking something in the oven, your fat arse sticking up, the dress hugging against it making Steve swear he can see the outline of everything underneath. You stand and Steve quickly moves to stand behind the counter, hiding the giant boner that’s straining against the zipper, begging to be let out.

“Sorry, was just checking on the pie. You like apple?” Did he die and go to heaven? Fuck, you were a dream come true. You tilt your head, leaning against the counter, Steve’s eyes immediately fall to your exposed cleavage and you smirk softly. “You all there, Sweetness? The heat didn’t get to ya already, did it?”

Steve shakes his head, clearing his throat and looking back up. “I’m alright, ma’am. I’m not intruding am I?”

The laugh you let out echoes throughout his ears, causing his heart to swell. “Don’t be silly, I invited you in.” You grab the lemonade and two glasses, filling them. “Come sit.” You slide the drink over to him before walking over to the couch, your hips swaying with each step and Steve gulps, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get over there without you noticing his problem.

You turn, taking a sip of your drink before patting the spot beside you. He turns and grabs his drink, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he wills his cock to soften. Steve walks over and takes the seat next to you, eyes immediately stopping on your legs before slowly drifting up your body. You give him a sweet smile when your eyes lock, his cheeks turning a slight pink at being caught.

“It’s okay to look, Steve. Nothing wrong with looking.” Steve’s gaze falls to your mouth as your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your eyes move down his body. “Do you ever think of doing more than looking, Steve?”

His eyes snap up, widening at your question and he quickly shakes his head. “N—no, ma’am. W—wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hum, leaning forward to place your drink down onto the coffee table before resting your hand on his thigh. “Are you sure? Lying isn’t an attractive quality to have, Sugar.”

Steve squirms under your touch, gulping as you lean closer to his, giving him a perfect view down your dress. “M—ma’am…”

“Call me Y/N, Steve.” You tilt your head and smile, batting your lashes. “Unless you have some other name you wanna call me.”

“Y/n…” He tests your name on his tongue, his cock twitching with how perfectly it rolls off. Your thighs squeeze together, your tongue flicks out, wetting your lips. “This isn’t right, what about Mr. Drysdale?”

Steve’s gaze darts between your eyes, lips and plump breasts that threaten to spill from your dress. He whimpers when you cup his chin, directing his gaze back up.

“My husband doesn’t have to know.” You move closer, practically climbing into his lap. “Plus, I don’t think he’ll notice, he’s too busy with his own plaything nowadays to remember he has a wife at home.” Steve’s gaze falls to your lips, hardening even more as they form a pout.

His brows furrow, hands moving to grip your hips, pulling you fully onto his lap. “His own plaything? He’s cheating on you?”

You hum, a whimper getting caught in your throat as your cunt brushes against his bulge. “Uh huh, Ransom was never the most loyal.” You lick your lips, batting your lashes as your eyes connect with Steve’s. You cup his cheek, stroking it with your thumb as your gaze moves to his pretty pink lips. “I always wondered what it would be like to fuck a younger man. Younger seems to be the thing when it comes to affairs, don’t cha think?”

His hold on you tightens, digging his fingertips harder into your hips. “He’s stupid to cheat on a woman like you.” His tongue darts out, eyes moving to stare at your lips. “And it would be stupid of me to decline a ladies wish.”

Your hips move gently, rubbing against the hardened bulge in his pants. You hover over his lips, soft whimpers slipping from your lips. “Fuck me please, Steve.” Your hand slides down, resting against his neck. “I’ve seen how you look at me, notice how hard you get when I wear certain things. Been wanting you for so long, yet you’ve never taken the hint.”

Steve groans, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you towards him, devouring your lips into a rough, heat filled kiss. His other hand tightens, helping you move against him, feeling you soak his jeans as you hump him like a desperate slut.

“F—fuck, okay! Uh…” Steve tries to think for a minute but it becomes harder the more you move against him, your lips now attached to his neck, making his brain go all fuzzy. “W—what about the pie?!” He suddenly remembers the food in the oven, only because he thought back to when he walked in and found you bent over. “D—don’t want to have to stop cause the house is burning down.”

You kiss up, moving to his ear and nibbling on the lobe. “Don’t worry bout it, last I checked it had thirty more minutes to go. Can you make me cum in that time, Sugar?”

He groans, flipping the two of you over, grabbing your hands as you go to lift the dress from your body. “No, keep it on.” You swear you became wetter just from his words. “Wanted to fuck you in it, in all your little dresses.” He presses against you, rubbing his jean clad bulge against your soaked core. “Such a fuckin’ tease, always prancing around either half naked or dressed like a slut in these.”

The moan you let out is almost pornographic, not even your husband could bring that sound out of you. Steve’s hands move up, pulling the front of your dress down and groaning as your plump breasts bounce free. “Fuck, so fucking perfect.” Your hands fly to his hair as he leans forward, peppering kisses along your skin before he pays attention to your nipples, licking and sucking, even going as far as nibbling gently on each one.

“S—Steve! Please.” Your hips lift as you rub against him, needing something, anything to relieve you of the tingles between your legs.

He groans against your flesh, rutting against you before he pulls back. “God, you’re so fucking needy. So needy for a younger man, aren’t you?” You nod, hands reaching out to try and grab onto him, any part of him. “Tell me what you want, I need you to say it.” He moves closer to you, letting your hands wander his bare chest.

“Fuck me.”

He unzips his pants, taking his throbbing dick out and he begins to stroke it, half-hooded eyes connecting to your teary ones. Steve grunts, tearing your knickers from your body before lining his mushroom tip against your weeping entrance. “Are you sure you want this, ma’am? Because there’s no going back.”

You nod rapidly, “God, yes. Please Steve.” Your eyes roll back and mouth drops open as he pushes in, stretching you onto his large cock. Your hand rests against his chest while the other flies back and grips the couch beneath you. “Oh god, you’re so big! Fuck.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as Steve continues to thrust all the way inside you.

“Shit, so good, Mrs. Drysdale.” Steve groans, feeling your walls tighten around him. He leans down and tucks his face into your neck, kissing it as he begins to fuck into you hard. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, gripping it. Steve grabs your thighs, lifting them on either side of him and then grabs a pillow, stuffing it underneath you causing your eyes to cross at the new angle. “Feel better? That’s all you needed isn’t it? A good fucking.”

Your back arches, nails digging harder into his neck and couch. “O—oh!” Your toes curl and you tighten around him. You never thought fucking someone younger would feel so good.

“Gonna cum for me, Sweetheart? Gonna let me cum so deep into you that it’ll still be leaking out of your pretty little pussy when your husband gets back?” Your scream fills the house as you cum, walls spasming around his thick length, your juices coating him and the couch. You whine, gripping him tight as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. “So good for me, gonna let me do this again, Mrs. Drysdale?”

“F—fuck yes, please cum in me, Steve!”

Steve shrugs with a smirk, “as you wish.” He pounds into you a few more times before burying deep inside of you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten and thick ropes of cum spurt out of him, coating your walls white. He pulls out, putting you down gently before getting up and heading into the kitchen. You lie there completely fucked out, feeling so good and tingly all over.

Steve comes back, sadly his cock is tucked back in. He gently cleans you with the damp tea towel before fixing your dress. “How do you feel?” You hum, nodding.

“So good but why did you put yourself away?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you look up at him and he groans.

Steve shakes his head. “Your husband is an arse for neglecting such a pretty thing for so long.”

The whole week before your husband got back, you got fucked so many times in so many different positions. Even when he was home, you would occasionally sneak around with Steve.

Steve couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[ronearoundblindly]

He Needs the Calories

It's just silly Steve Rogers fluff based on my favorite joke this holiday...

Summary: Steve has his own tradition the night before the Fourth.

Entirely, utterly stupid, and I don't care because it made me smile. Enjoy! WC ~1k

"What the hell is all this?" you screech at Steve, finding an eleventh gallon bag of cookies tucked in a basket at the bottom of the pantry. "Why do you have a metric ton of...what? Sugar cookies? Cutouts, snickerdoodles, thumbprints? My god, what are you doing? Running your own bake sale?"

Steve's eyes shift guiltily from where you stand to the fridge and back.

You drop the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip treats and step backward to open the french doors.

"What's in here, Steve?"

"Nothing," he rushes.

"What's in the fridge, Steve?!"

He jumps to push the door shut before you can peak in. "It's not a big deal, ok? You don't wanna see."

This is starting to feel like the end of the movie Seven. What's in the cold box?! What's in the box, man?

Steve might be clearly ashamed and hoping you give up, but he uses no force to stop you. His bright blue eyes simply plead for your understanding.

Crammed into the tallest shelf are five--count 'em, five giant pitchers of...milk.

It's not store containers though; they're the type you make your own drinks in.

"Wha...."

You look at Steve, confused.

"It's a joke," he starts to explain.

"Are you taking a milk bath for your supple skin?" you snip.

"No. In the compound," Steve tsks back. "You know, like Santa. Ha-ha, leave out milk and cookies for the patron saint of Independence Day, ha-ha...or whatever."

He looks at his feet.

"So they give you the milk and cookies on the Third."

"I--uh--I wait until the compound closes and people go home, and then I collect the stuff from all the little break rooms and waiting areas. Employees' children come in to specifically to set up the plates."

He rolls his hands around as if that settles things.

"It's cute."

"So you bag up hundreds of cookies from fifty rooms in the building, pour glass after glass of milk into pitchers, and then hoard them like the freaking Cookie Monster in the apartment...You know you don't have to consume all of this, right?"

Steve balks at the mere suggestion. He's appalled.

How. Dare.

"What? I'm not gonna throw them away. That's such a waste! The kids would be so disappointed."

"Then you share them, Steve. You put them somewhere the adults can help you finish them off. You do not eat twenty-five pounds of butter and sugar and flour in one single day."

He shrugs, defiant in his plucking of one full gallon bag back from the pantry and reaching past you for a pitcher.

"I'll run a little extra," he mutters with a pouting lip. "I need the calories."

That's the last, laughable thing the big guy says before shutting himself in a room, snacks in hand.

Well, you think, it's oddly fitting that the patron saint of America is a glutton.

A/N: Look. I warned you it was stupid. I also warned you that I did not care BWAHAHAHA

Happy Birthday, Steebie 😘

🍪🥛🍪

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers

// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader

// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.

// Wordcount // 6.714 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff

// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber

// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.

// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest

// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //

Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.

Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.

Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.

So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?

“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.

You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.

“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.

“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.

“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.

“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.

“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”

“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.

“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”

“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.

“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”

You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?

“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.

You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.

“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.

It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.

“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”

“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.

“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“

“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.

“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.

“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.

He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.

For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?

You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.

Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.

The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.

How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?

For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.

Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.

He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.

Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.

You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.

“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.

“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.

After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.

Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.

Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.

When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.

After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.

As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.

He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.

A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.

“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.

A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”

His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.

Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.

“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.

Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.

“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.

You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.

“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.

Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.

“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.

“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.

“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.

Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.

“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.

Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.

“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.

You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.

Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.

Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.

“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.

“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.

He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.

Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.

Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.

Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.

You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.

“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”

You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.

Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?

“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”

“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.

“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.

“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.

With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.

“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.

“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.

He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.

You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.

“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.

“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.

Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.

“You’re sure, omega?”

“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”

Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.

“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.

Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.

“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.

He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.

He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.

So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.

“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.

He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.

“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.

“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.

Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.

Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”

Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.

“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.

“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.

“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”

You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.

“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.

You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.

“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.

Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.

Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”

Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.

Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.

When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.

“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.

“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.

You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.

“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.

You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”

“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.

“Why are you always so fucki—“

“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”

You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.

“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”

You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”

He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.

“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”

“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.

“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”

You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.

“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.

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