#dark steve x ofc

[anika-ann]

So, you're writing a dark dark AND niche fic you're not sure anyone will read.

...ah well.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Fiddle ||

Description: Curtis is a soldier from lands far away. Curtis loves to tease you. Curtis is a jerk. Curtis is your husband. You do your best to deny Curtis' existence. Curtis doesn't mind. Because Curtis knows you are a fiddle to his touch, whether you like to admit it or not.  

Pairing: Soft-Dark Army Chief!Curtis Everett | Spoiled Crown Princess!You. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Curtis Everett (sadly). This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark Curtis, he's kinda crusty dusty, forced/arranged marriage, power imbalance, fluffy smut with dark undertones that gets rough, groping, making out, dumbification, degradation, self degradation, ddlg undertones, he's intimidating, pet names, infantilization, play fighting, m!dom, f!sub, unprotected p-in-v intercourse, cock riding, overstimulation, doggy style fucking, spanking, choking, hair pulling, he's a man. 

Note: Was gonna post a Sy thing tonight but it's not done yet and I am extremely tired so here's a little Curtis piece I did the other day.

.

Curtis' eyes are closed as he leans his head against the edge of the tub, his huge body relaxed in the warm water while a content smile tugs at his lips. There is nowhere in this whole wide world that he would rather be than in this moment right here; relaxed after a long day of hard work and in the proximity of his dear lady. The contemptuous voice of said lady, although hostile, is music to his ears as it rings in the distance between them while she begrudgingly rubs away at one of the many dirt spots on his body with the use of a soft sponge. 

"Ugh, what do I, The Crown Princess, get?!" You are muttering to yourself like a typical naggy wife. "A fuckin–" your words lock in your throat automatically when your husband's eyebrows furrow in disapproval. "A frickin' no name foreign soldier!" You hate how he doesn't even have to open his eyes to get you to correct yourself. "While all my stupid friends– stay still!" You reprimand when one of his arms that you had extended in your direction to scrub the grime off of begins to get antsy in your lap for the sole purpose of annoying you.

Curtis chuckles and that irks you even more, as if your tiara placed on the opposite side of the tub on a little stool for whatever reason glinting at you isn't enough. 

Your husband is a jerk and he's probably rubbing your nose in the fact that despite being all-powerful after your father The King, you still have to bathe his stupid dirty body like a common wife. 

Ugh, you hate him.

"I am sorry, my love."

But you can't protest in the way that you want. 

Because your stupid father had issued a decree upon your arranged union to him. That you would only be able to keep your crown if you stayed true to your husband and kept him happy. Otherwise, the Army Chief -a stupid title held by your idiot of a husband- could usurp your future throne and do with the kingdom -and you- as he pleased. 

You hated it. 

But you loved your position more. 

However, your rascal of a husband made it even harder for you to stand him and keep up with the bargain when he asked of you cringy domestic services that made you want to punch him square in the jaw. 

But alas! 

How powerful is a damsel against her knight in shining armor? 

You continue when you have made sure that he won't try and reach for your breasts now. "... While all my stupid friends got to have dukes and nobles and aristocrats, I get a crusty dusty baldy from who knows where!" You hate how your boobs hang from the neck of your dress. 

Your depraved husband had them make a whole new wardrobe for you after your wedding. 

And the fittings and cuts on your home gowns made you want to kick him. 

He further irritates you when he lazily splashes some water on you in a playful fashion. You click your tongue at him and widen your eyes in warning even though he can't see you as you pinch his arm. "Stop it, baldy! Do you even know how long it takes to wash and style hair? Exactly!" You glanced at his buzzed head. "Stop splashing your stupid grimy water on–" you gasp, fully offended now as he remains unbothered with his eyes still comfortably shut. Water drips down your nose due to the hefty handful of the soapy water that he has just hurled right onto your face. 

"You–!" You toss the sponge into the tub angrily as you reach for his face with your claws. "You are DONE! I will end you today– AHH!" You screech when he manhandles you quicker than you can process it. The only thing you see is him opening his intelligent blue eyes before he gathers your offending hands in one of his much bigger, rougher ones and the arm that you had been cleaning wraps around your waist before you are pulled into the water. 

… You are in utter disbelief.

Your mouth falls open in shock as your eyes clench shut to suppress your rage. "How's this?" Your jaw ticks at his cocky tone. Warm water helps itself into your heavy gown and you're getting drenched by the second. You don't even struggle to try and get out because you are all too familiar with the unrelenting quality of the vice grip that he has placed on you. 

You stay quiet for a bit and just let yourself simmer in your rage while you try to think of all the reasons why you shouldn't lose your shit. 

But your husband is insufferable.

"Figured you could use some cleaning up too after a long, hard day of sulking around in luxury and jewels inside the castle" that seems to set you off in an autopilot and you begin to vehemently try and shake him off. But it's impossible to do so in the hold he has you in and that makes you even more passionate towards your resolve.

The bathwater goes splashing all around as you grunt and groan, wheezing a few seconds in by the struggle you have to put forth. Your eyebrows crease together indignantly and you kick your legs hard, pathetically weaseling against his chest with your hands locked above your head.

Curtis is no more than amused while you fume. He wordlessly holds you down with adoration in his pale blue eyes as a soft smile tugging at his bearded lips. He remains quiet and soundless until you open your mouth and then he's laughing at you. 

"Unhand me, fiend!" What? You read that in your literature lessons recently and thought it sounded cool. 

"Oh," your husband begins to shift forwards to press you against the edge of the opposite end of the tub, "but the big bad fiend fancies himself some little princess now" that's another thing you hate. 

He always tells you you're too small for big girl things and that's why you need to be taken care of. That that was also one of the reasons behind your father getting you, his only child, married to a man like him. 

That you needed a firm hand in your life that only he could provide.  

Absolutely absurd, right?! 

"I AM NOT LITT–" you suddenly freeze amid your struggle because your eyes have subconsciously flickered down to his pink chapped lips while his breath fans your mouth. You can't decide whether it's the way Curtis' chest firmly presses against yours or the way he has your arms suspended above your head in such a… big way that you inch your head upwards and mindlessly meet his lips, way too carried away by the memories of how good they feel to be rational.

As always.

The hungry way in which he kisses you back takes your breath away and both of you begin to claw and grope at each other everywhere you can like you are lovers who have met after being parted for years. The brawling couple is nowhere to be found, for a different kind of tussle has been initiated. 

Your access to him is less complicated and more pleasant because he's completely bare. But the way Curtis growls when he's kissing the length of your neck and the lovebites that he likes to leave on your tender skin indicates that he does not appreciate the barrier of your skirts between himself and you. 

"Up" he separates his lips from your jaw that he now nibbles at just enough to husk out his order. You quickly obey as you feel your arousal fill your already drenched undergarments, deciding that fighting could come later. You had the rest of your lives to do that, after all. Not that you liked to admit it when you weren't about to mount his cock. 

Curtis sits back and pulls you on his toned thighs to have no hassle access to you. You whine and grind yourself against his erection as he peels all your clothes off hurriedly, occasionally grunting under his breath when you get too rough because of your need. 

"Come here" he keeps your jewelry on but pulls and tears away everything else. Picking up your extravagant tiara from the stool, he places it on your head and you can't help but clench before rocking your hips harder against his. 

It's a silent assertion. 

An act of dominance. 

A paradox. 

You could wear the crown and have all the power in the Kingdom over every single person but your husband. 

Curtis was your regulator; your owner. 

The real master. 

You were the silly little puppet that he controlled with his cock.  

And while it never fails to offend you later, it always makes you even wetter when your bare body is pressed up against his. 

You whimper to yourself as realization dawns upon you; was this why he had the tiara placed here in his reach when you started? Did he know this was coming? Was this supposed to happen? Had your husband tricked you into becoming the wanton little thing that he always made out of you? 

You whine with a timid shake of your head as you place your hands on his broad shoulders to signal him to not move when he goes to place you under him. "W- Wanna ride…" You mumble like a baby and the tenderness of your tone has him roughly inhaling before he grabs your ass and squeezes it harshly, forcing your straddle to widen against him.

"Sure you can take it on your own, honey?" Even in your submissive state, you roll your eyes before puffing your flushed cheeks and that's how Curtis knows you are the one for him. 

"I think I know how to ride my husband's dick, thank you very much" he snorts.

"Oh, so now I am your husband, huh?" You groan and clamp one of your hands around his teasing grin as you reach into the water to position his tip against yourself. 

"I swear, you're so fuck– ow, Curty!" Your eyebrows rush to meet as you let out a high pitched throaty whine.

"Language" he warns dangerously as he glares up at where you're suddenly hugging his shoulders sensitively so his face is between your boobs. 

The combination of the apex of his dick twitching against you along with a punishing smack resounding against your wet ass had been too much for you to handle. 

You were just a fragile little baby, after all. 

"S- Sorry…" Your knees shake as you remain propped up on the top of his cock, too stuck around his monstrous girth to sink down and too needy to let go. "P- Please help, Curty" he has to raise one of his thick, dark eyebrows at that. 

"But I thought you were a big girl who knew how to ride her man's cock" shame nibbled at your blushing cheeks. 

"N- No… n- not big, Curty. P- Please… n- need you so bad" you uncomfortably shifted on the top of his cock. "P- Please help…" He hummed as he let one of his hands roughly fondle your ass cheeks, his beard feeling the soft cushions of your boobs. 

"Are you saying that you admit that you are my dumb little girl who can't do anything on her own and needs me for everything?" You nod so he moves you down but stops halfway to torture you just that bit more. "Say it" the slap he lands on your butt causes your cheeks to jiggle feverishly and you arch your back at the pain with a loud whine. 

"I- I…" You clench needily around him and feel yourself getting wetter at how great that one thick vein of his cock feels around your walls. "I admit t- that I am a stupid little girl and I can't do a- anything on my own–" you have to pause to recollect your breaking voice, the tension in your band of muscles that his rock hard cock stretches forming knots in the base of your stomach. "A- And that I need m- my hubby for everything" Curtis hums and he finally rests his back against the tub again as his hands aid your movements up and down his cock to get you to adjust to him. 

"Now thank me" you clench and feel your toes curl when he begins to pay attention to your erect boobs and his beard scratches the skin, chapped lips grazing your nubs in a way you can only describe as pleasurable. 

"Thank you!" It is breathless and erotic in tone as your hands curl around his shoulders. "Thank you for h- helping me, hubby" your hips start to work on their own now, the water that is beginning to turn cold splashing down on the floor as you slide yourself up and down his hard cock. 

"Wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, huh baby?" Curtis' teeth are sharp around one particular nipple that he had neglected the last time he was on you -which was a night before the last- and now he began his addictive mix of sucking and biting at the bud so you would be reminded of him every time anything brushed against it. 

"N- No, hubby…" The fact that your nails are digging into his hard pale skin -that doesn't get tanned no matter what, much to your confusion- but it doesn't seem to bother him as he rams up into you each time you land on his balls makes you reach for your pussy only for your hand to be smacked away. 

Uh oh.

It's a rule; your body belongs to Curtis and only he gets to touch it.

"And why is that?" Your vision gets dizzy as his tip begins to collide with your spongy bundle of sensitive nerves now, his girth having finally parted your walls enough. 

You feel yourself in a daze as you gasp down at him, one of your hands mindlessly stroking his sharp features. Curtis' body is the most stunning contrast of light and dark. His skin is white as snow -almost as though he has been carved out of frost itself- and his thick hair is nearly black. He hasn't yet disclosed to you his origins or the backstories of the many scars that litter his body. But the menace with which he wields a weapon -though he prefers not to be a soldier around you, unappreciative of you ever showing up on the field or anywhere near it- and the way your father trusts him with all of your lives sends the faintest chill of realization down your spine. 

Your husband is not as simple as the Kingdom Protector that he makes himself out to be. 

Because the ruthless way in which he shot down the person who tried to abduct you when you tried to flee your wedding makes you wonder if you even want to find out just what you open your legs to everytime you can. 

Or he wants. 

"Hm?" Curtis pulls you out of your fear inducing reverie. "Answer the question and I'll give it to you, baby" you feel your tiara slip to one side and go crooked on your wet hair when he gives you a particularly hard thrust. 

"Ugghhhheeee!" You gurgle as you throw your head back because of how he bites your nipple at the same time. You rake your mind to remember where you were, clenching hard around him when it does come back. "B- Because I am too d- dumb and my l- little pussy is too small to handle you all by myself, hubby" the profane words that would usually sting you tongue and appall you only further add to the pressure building between your hips.

You're so close.

Curtis growls and the way he begins to fuck up your pussy indicates that it's taking all of him not to change position and plunder you into the ground. 

But he never refuses the wishes of his Princess. 

His fingers finally creep to where you need him most. "That's fuckin' right" a loud moan escapes you when his thumb begins to swipe up and down your clit. "So remember that the next time you wanna argue with your man who works hard in the hot dirty field all day long so you can be a pretty little Princess in a protected Kingdom" your whole body is on fire despite the water that surrounds you. You're wet, dirty, desperate and on the very edge, the stimulation on your clit pulling at the knots in your stomach harder and harder. You're incoherent with your pleas and praises but Curtis isn't quite finished with you just yet. A firm tap thumps against the side of your head condescending as he readjusts your tiara. "Tell me you'll remember it" before he wraps his muscular arm around your waist to pull you closer again.

"I'll remember it, hubby!" You throw your head back as pleasure erupts up your womb and everywhere in your body. Your knees give out but you keep slamming yourself up and down his dick animalistically like a cock drunk nymph, placing your hands on the edges of the tub and using the grip to help move yourself. "Thank you so much!" Your ears are numb and hot, vision full of stars and neon shapes as you feel your breasts jiggle in a humiliating manner but you are too far gone to care.  

Your heart is still erratic and your hips haven't completely stopped moving when he decides to take back all the reigns of control. 

Being the simpleton that you are, you fail to realize that your husband didn't come. But that's okay. Curtis understands; little Princesses like you don't know anything but selfishness. 

It's a good thing he's a taker. 

"My turn" he breathily whispers in your ear when you have somewhat calmed down and now tiredly rest against his chest while lazily moving yourself on his cock. 

"... H- Huh?" 

A loud groan of protest escapes you when he suddenly rotates you on his cock like it's your axis, shifting onto his knees and moving you towards the opposite end of the tub. You open your eyes to see him placing your hands around the edge of the tub to hold on to, the realization of what he is about to do you causing your eyes to nearly fall out of their sockets as you sputter, too confused and fucked out to say anything substantial. 

Not that your husband would listen anyways. 

That is another rule; you are never to deprive him of anything, yourself being the top of the list of said things. 

Curtis adjusts your tiara again as he moves back to wrap his hands around your thighs to both handle you better and keep your legs that are trying to clamp together wide open for him. 

"Oh!" Your pussy clenches in defense when he begins to thrust into you.

And he isn't gentle about it either. 

"Tsk, comparing me, a husband who serves his wife with his blood and sweat to those sissy elites who have never seen a day of hard work in their lives and only know their fancy words" one of his hands pull back to come rapping down on your ass, causing you to jump with a loud whine, the action causing him to groan as well as it sends vibrations up his cock. "Well you know what, my dear?" He pulls you back by your hair to whisper in your ear. "If it comes to it, do you think those dukes and nobles and aristocrats of yours will be able to protect the honor of their ward like I did?" Fuck, another orgasm is about to force itself out of you due to the sensitive condition of your pussy. "Huh?!" Another slap has you yelling out a response as you get rammed like nothing more than a common whore.

"N- No, hubby! I am sorry, hubby!"

"You better fuckin' be" Curtis sounds fatally dangerous as he holds you to him by a new grip he has placed on the curve of your pussy from behind. "No real man ever wants the name of another on his wife's tongue" his balls clap against your ass in the most erotic way you've ever known. "Don't take my affections for granted" he begins to toy with your folds just to torture you that much more. "You're too spoiled and stupid to handle me when I get pissed, honey." 

He is breathless as he empties his load into you, cursing when the hot burst of thick liquid causes you to fall over again and you clench around him due to the sensitivity. "Look at this, baby" one of his rough hands clamp around your throat as he bends over you to fuck you harder, holding one of your thighs over his arm to allow himself deeper access. "You can't even breathe without my permission… how fucking cute" your lungs burn for air and your brain melts.

"Yes, hubby…" Is the only thing you can hear yourself muttering through the numbness as your body rocks back and forth. You can swear you knock out a couple times as your husband thoroughly fucks his orgasm out and into you. 

Then he pulls you in his arms and against his chest when he is done. 

"My hair…" His cock is hot inside your cavern as you cuddle into his chest, having been turned around again as the two of you snuggle now. 

Curtis has always told you that it's very pretty, just like all your other features. "What about it?" Your husband's own breathing is heavy as he reaches to push it out of your face. Your tiara is long gone and forgotten after it went missing during the fuck. 

"The soapy water ruined it…" You softly pout up at him. 

"I mean…" The warm and blissed out expression in his eyes is evidence that he doesn't agree nor care. Your beauty is something he always compliments with no hesitation and complete honesty. You are the prettiest sight my eyes have ever had the pleasure of beholding. It makes you roll your eyes everytime. "We can be the baldies, the two of us, hm?" You huff and glance at the ceiling tiredly. "The… baldy couple…?" He imitates the way you say it in your exact accent and you can't help but push weakly at his chest to express your dislike. "I mean," Curtis is grinning now. Uh oh, that can't be good, it never is. "Bet the tiara would look even cuter on your shiny cueball head–"

"YOU'RE SO OBSCENE, UGH!" He doesn't mind the childish fist that you land on his shoulder only to whine because his skin is too hard for your pampered little hand. 

Curtis snorts as he reaches for your hurting hand and kisses the top of it before slowly standing up with you safely tucked in his huge arms. "Only for you, honey" before he carefully removes you from his cock and hauls you over his shoulder, smacking your ass to make you squeak as he walks to the shower to get the now grimy bathwater off of the two of you. 

Your head maid shakes her head from outside your chambers as she motions for the rest of your helpers to excuse you for the day. It wouldn't be until morning that anyone would be able to get you two off of each other. 

"The Princess pretends like she doesn't know the Chief but he is the only one who has ever made her so… soft" one of the girls that basically grew up with you and was one of your good friends giggled shyly. 

"That's because she's a fiddle for the Chief, whether she wants to admit it or not" the other one rolls her eyes as they walk away from the group. 

"Perhaps that's what a comfortable marriage is" your friend muses aloud as the two girls turn the corner towards their quarters. "Being hopeless fiddles for each other in our own ways."

It was true, for it was not one sided by any means.

.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Make it Stick: Pt. 3 The Knight

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky x ofc x Steve

Word Count: 3195

Tags: dark!fic, mob/mafia au, mob!Bucky, mob!Steve, dubcon/noncon, sexual coercion, half-sibling incest, m/f/m, non-con drug use, mentions of torture (non graphic), double penetration, forced tattooing, forced orgasms, enemies to lovers

Summary: When his babygirl—his sweet pea, little one, puppy ... half-sister—is recaptured after her latest attempt at running away, Bucky makes a power play in front of the entire Bratva to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

Dark and smutty content below the break. Consume responsibly.

Wait! I haven't read part 1, part 2!

“Nnn, pl-please…”

Her gasp is hardly audible this time, she’s so out of breath.

Panting from the way the second orgasm’s just ripped through her. And she’s crying still, but only just. Not like before. Because now the pleasure’s overtaken most of the anger, all of the fear, and even some of the humiliation. Bucky pulls his hands from her and delicately eases her panties back into place, smooths her little slip of a dress out for her. He looks up from his spot on the floor.

Her chest heaves with her breathing, the underside of her breasts—beautiful and natural under the silk—on full display for Bucky from this angle. And, Christ, her nipples are pebbled up, just begging for attention. Bucky sees Steve refixing his hold on her waist to support her because she’s gone so slack. She’s shaking against him, his body practically the only thing keeping her vertical at this point.

Inside his pants, Bucky is … uncomfortable. He slowly pushes up from where he’s been kneeling in front of her, coming back to stand at his full height and crowd in close again. He cages her between his body and Steve’s, hands landing on her waist right alongside Steve’s own. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, mockingly tender. “Don’t you want to say thank you for your orgasm?” He leans in so that the words are whispered against the side of her head. He’s staring at Steve as he says it, and when Lena’s mortified, overwhelmed little whimper comes in response, he doesn’t miss how Steve’s mouth twitches at the corner. Steve likes to play the white knight—and maybe he sort of is, compared to Bucky, but even still, he’s no sweetheart. And he’s enjoying the heck out of this. “Are you hard?” Bucky whispers, and he feels his sweet puppy’s body stiffen between them as she figures out who he’s talking to.

“You have to ask?” Steve answers, the rumble of his voice no doubt felt against Polina’s back. She makes another little outraged cry when Steve presses forward, driving his erection against her backside and pushing her more tightly up against Bucky.

Bucky, who helpfully slots his thigh back between her legs. She shivers as her sex is pressed up against him, going stock still to avoid any stimulation. Bucky coos down at her. He lets go of her waist and cups her face with one hand, tucking her hair behind her ear with the other. “Aw, princess,” he murmurs. “You sensitive now? Hm?”

She sniffles and nods her head. She’s been much more forthcoming ever since the suppository and the pill worked their way into her system. Behind the glossy sheen of her tears, her pupils are even wider and darker than Steve’s. It’s hardly taken any work at all to get her to come twice for him, she’s so keyed up.

Bucky tuts lovingly and brings the still buzzing vibrator up in front of her face. He twists the base, turning it off. Lena’s whole body slumps between them with relief, and Bucky chuckles. “Don’t get too excited. This might not be over for you.”

“W-what …” she swallows dryly. “What do you mean?”

“You still have a choice to make.” Bucky taps the little bullet vibrator against her lips. “Open.” She clamps her mouth shut stubbornly, so Bucky shrugs and rubs it over her instead, smearing her own release onto her lips. He leans in and slots his mouth over hers, licking the taste of her right back. “Mmm,” he hums. “Somebody’s been drinking their pineapple juice.”

She’s glowering at him when he pulls back. Bucky licks his lips like he’s savoring the last taste of a fatty meal. He can tell from the look on her face that he’s actually right: she has been drinking it. He feels a rush of fondness mixed with anger come at that—Fond, because it’s proof that she takes even his smallest teachings to heart.

“No, seriously. That’s why I have a glass each morning. It makes cum taste sweeter. … Pussy, too.”

Anger, because it’s not him she’s been drinking it for.

He forces the latter emotion away with a deep breath and a long exhale. He doesn’t have to be angry, because nobody but him is ever going to taste that pussy again. … Well, almost nobody but him. “Okay, little one,” he sighs. “Time to make a choice.” He reaches around her and tucks the vibe back into Steve’s pocket. Then he looks down and meets her gaze.

Her pretty blue eyes are wide but dazed, high from the drugs coursing through her system. Bucky smiles and cups her face with both hands. She’s so fucking beautiful, with her round little face and plush lips, her pretty blue eyes. They’re near arctic in color—closer to Steve’s cornflower blue than Bucky’s own muddled blue-grey. Sharp and clear, like ice underwater, and positively gorgeous when they’re crying.

Lena sniffles and Bucky’s heart twinges with affection. He leans in and kisses her cheeks, cleaning up her tears. “You need to listen to me now, Polina,” he murmurs, feeling her shudder underneath his touch. “Are you listening?”

She whines a little, not able to give up completely on her stubbornness, even now. Bucky loves her so goddamn much. She tries to squirm in their hold again, but as soon as her over sensitized clit bumps Bucky’s thigh, she’s calming back down. “What?” she asks quietly, sniffling and trying to put on a stiff upper lip. It’s cute.

“It’s up to you, how this goes,” Bucky tells her. He looks over to his right and catches the eye of one of the widows. It’s Belova. He jerks his head for her to go and get the supplies that are waiting in the wings. She disappears and reappears with a rolling tray table of tattoo supplies. “This,” he says to Lena, “is what’s happening.”

She squints in confusion at it for a second or two—the tray of gauze and ointment, inks and gloves and gun—before her eyes register the stencil and read it … and go wide in realization. She jerks in their hold, thrashing, tossing her head back against Steve’s chest in another vain attempt to hurt him. “No!” she huffs, the sound breaking into a pitiful whimper at the end, despite her bravery. “No, you can’t!”

Bucky waits her out, and sure enough, her little tantrum dies down. She cries, and he wipes those tears away, too. “Shh,” he soothes. “It’s not so bad.”

“It is!” she cries. “I hate you. I hate you!”

“You’re a smart girl, Lena. You can’t tell me you didn’t always know you’d wind up here.” He tilts her chin up when she refuses to look at him. Her tearful, angry eyes meet his, and he offers her a tender smile. He gives her another kiss, just a peck on the lips, this time. “I always get what I want, sora mica,” he murmurs, right against her lips.

Little sister.

She shudders underneath his touch but doesn’t shirk away, and Bucky preens because he knows the war that’s going on in her head right now, even if she’ll never admit to it. Revulsion, mixed with lust, and darkness, and something too close for comfort to love. It’s what he used to feel, back before he decided to give up on conventional morality altogether. Poor little Lena, though, he thinks sadly. She hasn’t gotten there yet. Oh well, she’s young, she’ll learn.

“Now,” he tells her, thumbing over the familial cleft in her chin. “You have two choices, sweet pea. You ready to listen to ‘em?”

She grits her teeth and purses her lips in an angry little moue, stubborn thing, though she capitulates when Bucky tightens his grip on her chin. “Yes,” she whispers tightly.

Bucky smiles. “Okay. Now, two things are happening, no matter what,” he says, raising a warning eyebrow at her. “You’re getting this tattooed on your body … and Gleb back there is going for a long swim in the Hudson.” He waits her out while she throws another hissy fit over that, tears leaking and eyes burning up at him. Bucky sighs and looks off to the side until it’s over. Then, when she’s slumped back against Steve again, all tuckered out, he continues, “If you hold still like a good girl, I won’t take your dress off in front of all these people, won’t force any more orgasms outta you down here where everyone can see. And Gleb’ll get wheeled off to his morphine and an easy death. No torture, just the widow’s bite—lickety-split, no fuss-no muss.”

He watches as her eyes flare and her face crumples with suppressed emotion. She composes herself faster this time, though, and he continues softly, drawing her lip down with his thumb. “But, if you make things difficult? I’ll have you squirting all over this floor before I knock you out and ink you while you’re unconscious. And Gleb will have …” he looks off to the side, as if trying to parse out his words, “... mmm, he’ll have a very stressful weekend.” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, squeezing her chin sternly enough that it smooshes her cheeks the barest bit. “Are you gonna be good?”

She looks torn for a second or two, but then her eyes slip closed in defeat. In Bucky’s hand, she gives the tiniest of nods.

Bucky’s pleased, but he wants more from her. “Tell me,” he commands. “You’re gonna hold nice and still?”

She sniffles and nods again. “Yes,” she breathes. “I’ll hold s-still. I’ll … I’ll be good.”

Her meek response satisfies him. Feeling a sudden wash of tenderness towards her, he leans down and presses their foreheads together and whispers, “Thank you, little one. You know how I hate to see you struggle.”

She shivers against him but doesn’t throw out any bratty quip. She keeps her eyes down, avoidant. Sighing, Bucky pulls back and steps aside to have a word with Belova. He tells her his plans for Gleb, and she gives a sharp nod and heads off to handle it. Bucky knows then that he can put the idiot man from his mind for good. The widows will more than take care of him.

Bucky returns to Steve and Lena, ready to get to work. Really, he’d prefer Natasha to be the one doing this. Bucky’s no amateur with the gun, but he’s not as good as she is. Oh well. He has a steady hand, and the design is extremely simple. Just that one phrase, in cyrillic:

собственность дракона.

Translated roughly, it means: Property of the Dragon.

“Steve,” Bucky says. “Sit with her on the bench. It’ll help keep her calm.”

Along with the cart of tattoo supplies, a rolling stool, a bench, and a padded armrest have been brought over from the Red Room. Steve all but lifts Lena and brings her over there, straddling the bench first before pulling her to straddle it in front of him. Bucky goes about setting up, snapping on a pair of black vinyl gloves while Steve wraps his arms around Lena’s waist and murmurs quietly into her ear. Bucky smiles at the pair of them. Steve cares about Polina, too, has known her for almost a decade, and he’s always had a knack for calming her down. A good thing, since Bucky’s so naturally gifted at riling her up.

He sits on the stool and scoots over to them. Lena watches him warily. Steve’s used both his and Bucky’s discarded ties to bind her arm down at the wrist and at the bend of her elbow, in case she gets second thoughts about her promise of good behavior. Bucky’s mouth quirks at the ingenuity, and his dick twitches at the optics. He’ll have to take a picture, one he’s got the ink in. A shot of her arm; reddened and bleeding with his mark, and his and Steve’s neckties framing it. Fuck, he might jerk off to it sometime.

He spends a minute getting the ink prepared, and then he carefully cleans her inner forearm and applies the stencil. It’s small but long, stretching almost the full length between the ties. It’ll take a good hour or more in its entirety, but Bucky isn’t a sadist: His little one has been through a lot, and they’ve got a long night ahead of them once they take her upstairs. Bucky wants that time to be spent mostly in pleasure, not pain. They’ll just do the outline, for now.

Lena whimpers when the paper peels back from her skin, revealing the design left behind. “Bucky,” she pleads, though one look up at him and her begging stalls. Bucky gives her a grim, apologetic look, and she knows. She knows she’s not getting out of this. She whines lowly and turns her face into Steve’s shoulder.

“Shhh,” he soothes her, his big arms wrapped tightly around her waist, comforting and restraining all at once. “You’ll be fine, hon. This is how it has to be.”

Bucky settles himself and the gun, then turns it on. Soon, the buzzing fills the small space between the three of them. In the background there’s still the noise of the club: music, chatter, bodies moving around. But in their little corner in the back, it almost feels private now that they’re centered around what Bucky’s about to do to her. “Okay, malyshka,” he murmurs, waiting until he’s got her full attention. “Watch the gun. Don’t want you jerking around in surprise.”

He’s a little taken aback by the emotions that hit, as he brings the needle down and starts inking her for the first time. He’s marking her permanently, branding her as his in a way that will never wash off, and from which she can never escape. And despite her tears and the ties binding her arm down, she is sitting there for him, allowing it. That goes straight to Bucky’s cock as sure as anything else he’s ever done to her, and he spends the rest of the session focusing on each line and curve, putting the red ink underneath her skin and trying to work out what it is that’s twisting up in his gut so bad. There’s lust and possessiveness, that much he expected, but there’s also a certain amount of … melancholy? Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s there too. A feeling of resolution, of an era coming to an end. Arousing and yet oddly bittersweet.

Lena’s fist is already clenched when he starts, but he can see her body stiffening further as the burn of the needle really sets in. Her arm flexes and her fingers curl harder into her palm, the veins popping against the strained lock of her inner elbow. Steve keeps up a gentle litany of praise and reassurance in her ear, half of which Bucky hears and half of which he misses due to his own focus on the gun. He’d love to take Steve’s place, be the one to hold her and comfort her through this, but that’s just not possible because he simply doesn’t trust anyone else to do the work.

He’s even glad that Natasha refused to do it, at this point. Because this isn’t just any tattoo. It’s personal and intimate. A promise as good as any wedding ring. Probably better-than, in the fidelity it’ll enforce. Not on Lena’s part, poor thing, but on the part of any man who might dare to entertain the idea of an affair with her. One look at her arm, and that idea would go straight up in smoke. These red words are branding her for life, in more ways than one. It’s only right that Bucky be the one to do it.

“Almost done,” he murmurs when he’s finishing up at her wrist. It’s the most painful area, and he regrets saving it for last. But his girl does beautifully and keeps relatively still, sometimes hissing or whining in pain but never asking for a break, and never twitching enough to throw Bucky off course. He finishes the outline and sits back, setting the gun aide on the cart and reaching for the salve. He smiles at his little one, who by now has stopped crying. “Good job, sweet pea,” he praises softly.

Her defenses are down from having all of her focus on something other than him for so long. She only blushes a little when he uses the nickname, and says nothing snarky back. Bucky’s heart pulls with it. In Steve’s lap, she watches as Bucky uses a tongue depressor to apply the salve in long, smooth strokes over the raw areas. She blinks at her arm like she’s fully waking from a dream. “... That’s it?” she asks, sounding surprised, maybe even disappointed—though that’s probably just Bucky’s wishful thinking.

“For now,” he tells her, bringing out the non-stick pads and adhesive wrap. He’s giving her all the aftercare that he’s neglected on himself—already the back of his neck and shoulders feels tight and unpleasant, and he doesn’t want the same for her. Steve pulls the ties loose to release her arm, and Bucky explains, “You have delicate skin, sweetheart. We’ll let this heal, fill it in another time. Add some other design elements, if you want.” He catches her look of surprise and smiles, then looks away before her expression can shutter on him. He gently applies the pads along her skin, wrapping her up in an opera glove’s length worth of neon pink animal print bandaging, nice and tight. “There you go.”

“Cheetah print, really?”

“Just special for you, my little hellcat. Don’t worry, you can take it off tomorrow.” He rolls out on the stool and goes around to stand just in front of the bench. Briefly, he meets Steve’s eyes, and they have a short, non-verbal conversation, at the end of which Steve nods smally in agreement. “Okay,” Bucky says, reaching out to palm Lena’s face.

She automatically goes to shirk away from it, but Steve whispers something in her ear—Bucky doesn’t hear what—and it makes her settle. She bites her lip and peeks up at Bucky through her lashes and ruined makeup. “I was good,” she whispers, like she’s half-sure Bucky’s going to revoke his end of the deal.

He tries not to let it show on his face, how that hurts him. “Yeah, sweetheart. You were very good.” He bends over to kiss the top of her head, then turns and searches out Belova. She’s standing next to Maximoff now, over at the bar. Bucky goes over and holds out his hand. Pietro shakes first, Yelena second. “Thank you,” he tells them. “For bringing her back safely.”

“Again,” Yelena says with a smirk and a semi-suppressed eyeroll.

“You should get a leash,” Pietro jokes.

“Or a homing beacon.”

Bucky waves them off (though the homing beacon idea has occurred before), telling them to go back to their drinks and enjoy their evening. He doesn’t bother asking if the Gleb issue’s been dealt with—he knows from the look on Belova’s face that it has.

Part four

Masterlist

If you like what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

Commissions: contact via Tumblr messenger or here

[myinconnelly1]

Hard at Work - A Small Trip

Summary: Katie Thompson is good at solving problems, so naturally when an offer for a work study at Stark Tower arrives, she signs up. Will her Omega designation help or hinder the training of the new superheroes.

Word Count: 956

Masterlist

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, Masturbation (Male), Dark thoughts, Possessiveness, corny flirting

Katie had grabbed her bag quickly and rushed away from Tony’s office a little faster than she would have been proud to admit.  She was so absorbed in her on thoughts that she didn’t even notice when she walked past Steve Rogers, and Katie would never let that meeting slide past her otherwise.

Steve on the other hand knew everything about Katie from the single waft of her scent as she rushed by.  He had marched straight to his room and locked himself in.  He had never been this intoxicated by an omega’s scent before.  He had been locked in for two hours now and was currently stroking himself slowly for the third time as the spicy scent that Katie had left him with wound itself into his mind.  The first time he had cum he had barely touched himself before popping his knot.  But even that didn’t stop him from jerking himself to a fast and breathless second release.

Steve could tell from the brunt spiciness of the omega, that she was coy little brat.  She probably knew exactly what she was doing with that little skirt that she had worn into Stark Tower.  He knew that she was playing hard to get with the way that she held her binder in front of her breasts.  He bet they were firm, as he squeezed his cock and groaned.  He wanted to spill him cum all over her breasts.

He had been a sweet boy from Brooklyn before he went into the ice seventy years ago.  He had not been kissed until Peggy, but when they thawed him he refused to live his second life as a virgin.  What was the point in being a famous superhero if you didn’t get the pretty girls that you rescued.

Steve choked slightly as he came again thinking about Katie.  Breathless and with a small amount of blood on her, she thanked him.  In his fantasy, he had just rescued her from a small army, and she knew of a way to thank Captain America for saving her.  In fact, she had been saving herself for him.

Katie had rushed back to her apartment, packed her small little bags and rushed down to hail a taxi in the rush hour of New York.  She turned the street corner to get a better spot to hail the cab and walked straight into someone.

“Crap!”  She yelped helplessly as she started to fall backwards reaching out for anything to grab onto.  The sleek material in front of her was the only thing she managed to grab as she went downward and back, realizing too late that she was bringing whatever she had grabbed with her.

“Shit, are you okay?”  The solid form of the man who had landed on top of her asked.  Katie had grabbed him by the tie and after bumping into him.  He had managed to get his hands behind her head and protected her from concrete when she thumped to the ground with a small ‘oof’.

“I am so sorry; I need to do a better job of paying attention.  I was just looking for a ride.”  She stilled once the words were all out of her mouth, and she realized he had landed between her legs.  Their position could not have been more intimate if they had planned it.  He chuckled quietly before reaching for something beside her side.

“I could give you one, but I don’t think that you would get very far,” He teased as he moved to kneel.  It was then that Katie realized he had grabbed a red tipped white cane.

“Oh my God, I took down a blind person.  I’m the worst,” She groaned, and he laughed.  “I’m Katie by the way, in case you want to press charges or something.”  She had given up on trying to think her way into a good line with the handsome stranger. 

“Negligent clumsiness is the next big threat to New York.  Twenty percent of people claim to have been victims from nervous pretty girls walking into them,” He was still grinning as he stood up and offered a hand out to help her up.  “I’m Matt by the way.”

“That’s a good one,” She giggled and stood up.  “Can I pay for your cab ride?”

“Will you share it with me?”  He asked.  Katie blushed.  She had never talked with anyone so direct.  She knew alphas could be abrupt like this, but Matt’s scent marked him as a beta.  “I’m making you uncomfortable, sorry,” He said as he tilted his head to listen to something.

“No, I was just surprised.  Where are you heading to?”  She asked putting her arm up and out to flag a taxicab.

“I’d rather not say it out loud on the street.  It might draw the wrong kind of attention,” he whispered conspiratorially.  Katie laughed at this.

“Fine, Mr. secretive.  You can tell it to the cab driver and if it’s in the right direction, I’ll ride with you.” 

“Deal,”  He jumped on it.  “You’re bleeding.”

“What?”  She asked looking at him quizzically.

“On your back, I think you scraped yourself when you fell.”  He gestured behind her as she felt her back.  There was a small scrape, but it would be fine she decided.

“It’s okay, thanks.  How did you do that?”  She asked as the taxi pulled up to the curb.  She opened the door, and Matt grabbed her elbow gently.  She was surprised at first but realized it was probably to guide himself into the vehicle.

“Where too?”  the cabbie asked.

“The Stark Campus,” Matt said as he adjusted to make himself comfortable on the far side of the car.  “Is it on your way?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boy that was some conflicting thoughts. Cute flirting and dark possessiveness in the same fic!

What do you think? Are you ready for classes to start?

[awesomerextyphoon]

Realm Discoveries While Hangry

Summary: Ife's not herself while hangry, especially on a mission. Luckily, this one worked out for the best.

Pairing: Slight Steve Rogers x Black!Alien Warrior Princess OFC Ifekerenma aka Ife

Characters: Natasha, Steve, Ifekerenma, Nick Fury, OFCs, mentions of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner

Rating: 18 + / Mature

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Dark Comedy Bordering on Absurdity, Ife being a Badass Glutton, Some Violence, Some Fluff

A/N: This is the start of something a little different. I want to make some short stories that will tie back into the main series whenever I'm between chapters. I'm still working on the main series and the next chapter will be published before the end of 2023. Thanks to @firefly-graphics for the dividers!

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

What was with these supposed 'geniuses' always wanting to rule the world?

The amount of hubris one needed to go through with it never ceased to amaze Natasha. This week's version wanted revenge on the science community for calling him 'stupid' and 'crazy' over his theories on creating titan fauna and megaflora.

Someone, please shoot me.

If Nat had a dollar each time she heard some version of the 'Why I must hold the world hostage' speech, she'd be able to bribe Tony to let her control the music for mission trips.

Steve wished they would drop the speeches already. He just hoped Ife was almost done with the power cells so they could drop the charade and go home.

"Now! Watch as I claim what's rightfully mine!" the mad scientist finally finished his speech by pressing the detonation button, but nothing happened.

" What's happening? Why isn't working?!"He pressed the button another three times to no effect, "Why aren't the missiles firing?!"

The mad scientist was about to radio his henchmen outside of the main chamber when he heard bullets pouring like rain outside the hangar followed by frantic shouts from his men.

"SOMEONE STOP HER!!"

"NOTHING'S WORKING!!"

"GET THE TANKS!!"

"FIRE AT WILL!!"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE?!!"

"SHE'S AN ABOMINATION!!"

"What on Earth is going on out there?" He wondered as he carefully made his way to the entrance, only for a downright beastly roar frightening nearly everyone into silence.

"What the" A soft knock at the hangar doors broke his concentration.

Ife was pissed.

She FINALLY had some decent food after not getting a chance to refuel after expending her energy reserves from her last mission, but it was barely a morsel. It took no time to devour all of the titan fauna the henchmen unleashed on her, unaware those were inferior albeit still tasty versions of food from her homeworld. She even found some yummy megaflora.

It was a bummer Ife was famished. She would've prepared them better to bring out their flavors.

Another tank shell bounced off of her.

When will these fools learn that this is pointless? Conventional Earth weapons are nothing to her. Well, at least the energy from their artillery aided with digestion. Also, the power cells were tasty; they had a refreshing tropical fruity taste with notes of mint.

Now the scientist refused to open up, even after she knocked, "Guess I'll have to let myself in."

The scientist tried his best to steel himself, only for the two-meter thick air hangar doors and part of the solid stone walls to rip off like cheap wrapping paper.

His eyes almost bugged out of their sockets at the intruder — a tall woman — casually lifting both doors in one hand and a 250-ton tank in the other. The woman turned to two tied-up Avengers, smiled, and threw both items 1500 meters away with a flick of her wrists.

"Hi, Captain, Black Widow. How's it going?"

"Can't complain," Steve answered.

"Why haven't you escaped yet? It would've taken you two seconds to get out," Ife queried rubbing her growling tummy. Her telltale sign of hunger.

"We were waiting for you," Nat retorted while raising an eyebrow.

This will be fun.

"What happened to your comms link?"

"Well…I was preoccupied."

"With what?"

The woman's eyes brightened, "I found some yummy food not unlike Avlenia, but they barely did anything for me. I ate everything the goons unleashed and then some, but I'm still hungry! Which sucks cuz I wasn't able to properly prepare them-"

That can't be right.

That chamber housed hundreds of exotic beasts and flora with a combined weight of 312.5 THOUSAND TONS!! There was no way a single person could eat one of those behemoths, let alone all of them.

"MONSTER!!"

"Huh?" Ife finally noticed the scientist and his remaining goons.

"Do you have any more? I'm STARVING!"

"No one should eat one of those beasts, let alone all of them!"

Ife raised an annoyed eyebrow. "Maybe not possible for humans, but, "she strolled towards the scientist and started unzipping her combat suit, "that was only a snack for me, and it left me hungry for more."

The scientist cried out in horror when a belly 3x the size of an exercise ball surged forth.

How is she moving?! His eyes darted over to her comrades but found them lightly chuckling with the spy sporting a smirk.

"So, do you have any more food? Don't leave me in suspense."

The monster rolled her eyes at the rude man's silence, "So you still don't believe me. Okay. Let's see. One of the beasts was this large six-legged alligator…"

She started listing the various beasts and megaflora that were now digesting in her rapidly shrinking belly.

Galala Gator: 90 tons each, Ox Chicken: 15 tons each, Giant Turkey: 75 tons each, Volcano Weathercock: 10 tons each, Five-Tailed Giant Eagle: 45 tons each, Demon Devil Serpent:100 tons each, Elephantsaurus: 125 tons each, and so on.

Every 'food item' this monster blithely listed horrified everyone besides her teammates who were trying not to laugh. Each of these specimens took elite teams to capture; several men died in the process.

Yet this Eldritch Being glutted all of their hard-won gains as a 'pitiful snack'!

"How? How is this possible?" The devastated scientist barely choked out a whisper as her enormous belly was nearly flat.

Unfortunately, the monster's sharp ears heard the whisper, "All of those delicious beasts, flora, and the energy from the power cells barely made a dent! Tell me where you got this bounty! I'm Starving!"

As if to make her point, the monster turned her head towards the hole she made and let out a near-deafening roar of a belch demolishing what was left of the wall and pushing back all of the remaining men and tanks outside.

What is this monstrosity?!

"Shit!" Not only did the wimp not answer Ife's question, but now he's slumped on the floor.

"He's out cold, Ife."

"I can see that, Nat. All I wanted was some more food!"

"Some?"

"Fine. But you know he didn't make them from scratch. He had to have gotten from somewhere."

Some of the stronger-nerved goons were able to recover from Ife's Roar, "Damn, that woman's scary!"

"Nah, man. She's a monster in human skin."

"Which is a shame, too. She's fucking hot!"

"I know, right?! Wouldn't mind going a few rounds with her."

Steve scowled as he marched up to six of the trash-talking goons inside one of the still intact tanks, ripped off the tank's hatch, and yanked four of them by their collars."I'm only gonna say this once. Never, and I mean never, say that crap about my team. Especially the 'abomination', got it?" his voice never rising above a calm, measured tone.

"Yes!"

Steve felt he needed to drive this home, "Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Good."

Nat rolled her eyes at Ife's bashful body posture at Steve defending her. They weren't fooling anyone.

Ife was able to pick up the scent of more delectable beasts and flew off to satisfy her voracious appetite. The scent came from a fortified bunker not far from the main base. She ripped off the building by the foundation in her haste to fill her hunger void.

It led her to a heavily fortified manmade cavern with a huge portal at the opposite end of the entrance and containment units housing even more of the delectable beasts lining the sides.

She licked her lips in excitement but stopped when she got a good look at the animals. That craven of a scientist is lucky she's too hungry to revisit him.

"I should probably tell Nat and Steve."

Nat peered into the last unlocked containment unit. She found a giant garden snake-like creature that seemed to take a liking to her. Its scales were the color of twilight at its height. She wondered if-

"You should name her."

Nat nearly swiveled her head, "What?"

"She likes you. You should name her."

"How can you tell?"

"I just know," Ife shrugged.

"Hmm. How about сумерки (Sumerki: twilight)?"

The snake affectionately rubbed her head against the reinforced glass containment wall.

"See? She loves it!"

Sumerki was the last beast on this side of the portal and was about to pass through but turned and playfully poked Ife's midsection.

"You want me to come with you?" The snake nodded.

Ife turned back to Steve and Nat, "Umm, can I-" her stomach roared asking the question for her.

"It's alright, Ife. You can go, but don't be long." Steve rubbed his hand behind his head. Neither of them wanted to deal with a hangry Ife.

Ife flew into his warm embrace, "Thank you so much!" She kissed both his cheeks, "I promise to document everything I see!"

When will those lovable dorks admit they love each other?

It wasn't long before Ife and Sumerki came back smiling and sporting enormous food bellies. Ife sped off before she could say anything. The next thing they heard was a five-minute sonic roar of a belch causing mini-tremors and cracks forming on the ground.

Sounds of her epic belch were heard 15km away.

They were glad that the scientist was stationed in the middle of nowhere.

Ife flew back into Steve's arms, "Thanks again!" Ife smiled as Steve returned the hug.

Both Natasha and Sumerki shook their heads wearing the same expression.

Ife pulled out her tablet and personal interface, "Okay, so my hunch was right and this place is incredibly vast. I was only able to explore .25% of the place."

Even Natasha was taken aback by the amount of information Ife had, "Just how big is this place?"

"So this new 'realm' is called Guloxity?"

Fury turned the last page of Ife's extensive report. He had a laugh at her devouring over 300K tons of food and was still famished.

The whole team had a laugh riot. Tony even joked about how much he'd save on grocery bills—even though she provides most of her food. It's the least he could do since he blackmailed her into joining the team.

Thanks to her, SHIELD has access to a new realm. Plus the snake she and Natasha befriended has been a delight. However, he did wonder how Ife and her friends were able to create a habitat and a size modulator so quickly.

"Do you find the terms agreeable?" Aliza looked back at Fury's desk. The deal stipulates that any findings and all findings SHIELD makes involving the new realm must be free and open to the public. This means that all patents and research can not be owned by any single nation or corporation including Stark Industries.

Banner had consoled Stark when he read out the terms.

No matter. Fury had his best people on this new venture. Even managed to rope in Banner and Dr. Cho. Ife was able to recreate the unique energy signature from the mad scientist's power cells as a source of renewable energy.

In the end, he was glad it worked out.

Now what's this about Ife showcasing new dishes based on what she found in Guloxity?

Taglist: @jobean12-blog @lookiamtrying @angrythingstarlight @gotnofucks @saiyanprincessswanie @navybrat817 @plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms @idorkish @sgt-seabass

[marvelvillian23]

Does anyone know any Basement Wife fics. Multi chapter preferably but any fic will do.

[americasass81]

Go check these fantastic fics folks. Bound to be something here for everyone.

Masterlist

Updated 2/10/25

What’s New?

Mine to Ruin - (8/23/24)

Rightfully His - (9/4/24)

Lovestruck - (9/13/24)

Weekend Loving - (9/26/24)

What do you Desire - (10/10/24)

Love Of My Life - (10/24/24)

Mine - Part 5 - (11/8/24)

Where do we go from here - (12/9/24)

Second Chances - (2/10/25)

Coming Soon

Mine - Epilogue

Chrome & Leather - Chapter 19

Civil War Brooklyn - Chapter 18

Marvel Series

Smut & Fluff

Dark Fics

Challenges

Taglists are open! Please let me know if you want to be added to a series taglist or permanent taglist. See link in bio.

A/N: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 YEARS OLD.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps or third party sites. If you see my work anywhere other than MY Tumblr or AO3 then it was stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission as this is MY work. 🚫🚫

Marvel Series, Smut & Fluff, Dark Series and Challenge Moodboard by @fictional-affairs

[angel-eyes05]

going over easy

pairing: bob reynolds x powered!thunderbolts!fem!reader

summary: two of the same. after breaking through inital barriers, you and the sentry appear to be inseperable, a pull almost forcing you two to each other. the strength of that pull has been getting pretty testy recently, and the two of you begin to wonder who you are to the other.

warnings/info: nsfw and mdni warning by the end of the fic, ill section off that part if you just wanna read the cutey parts, veryyyyyyy soft sex, no use of y/n, this bob is gonna be a little different from how i see him in a lot of other fics so disclaimer about that ig, but dw he's still very soft and sweet, oral sex and fingering (f!receiving), self depreciation on readers side, lots of my headcanons are gonna shine through here, reader is powered as well (yes that is gonna play into this lol) and is less of a blank slate than usual (aka shes kinda side rip), a scene in the void so we can know reader a little more and just for plot purposes lol, bob's powers are gonna be limited to whatever we saw showcased in thunderbolts so please dont get picky if somethings comic inaccurate thanks, its bob so ofc theres a little bit of angst too but dw this is very fluffy as well we love being well rounded lol

word count: 13.3k

notes: so guess who's obsessed with thunderbolts now.....and guess what half of the reasoning is.....if your guess was a man YOUD BE RIGHT!!!! i had to write for him ofc, i put a steve harrington fic on pause for this i had to jump on it lol. one thing i will say about bob fics that annoy me is that ofc everyone turns bob into a cutesy pootsy uwu boy which, hate me or whatever, he is NOTTTTT to me, that man was so sassy and sarcastic in the vault (to walker especially lol) so i wanted that to come out a little more here while still being his naturally sweet and soft self. i go a little bit into 2016 mcu fandom mode on some of the early character descriptions and relationships BUT CAN YOU BLAME A GIRL CAUSE IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK, I JUST HAD TO </3. i also didnt proofread this cause yet again its like 1am when im posting this and im so tired so if you catch anything uhhhh my bad lol. anyways this is standard to most of my other fics, so have fun lol enjoy!!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

You always overcooked your eggs. It was part of your routine at this point in your life. As a kid, your irrationally large fear of getting salmonella caused you to force your mom to always burn your eggs, chicken, and other foods of the sorts. It didn't even taste bad to you. It was all you had ever known. Uncomfortable, but natural. You scooped the rubbery eggs out of the pan and onto your plate while you attempted to squirt whatever ketchup you could out of the bottle. Taking your lunch, you leaned on the kitchen island and stared out of the sweeping windows of The Watchtower.

Valentina finding you was complicated. On one hand, you were out of the hell hole of a compound you called a home. However though, her manipulation paired with constant missions and training proved to be its own task entirely. And still with all that, your mind had a knack for traveling back to that dark, damp room. Like a looming threat over your head that if you ever messed up, that's where you would return.

That fear pushed you for the past few years. You worked till your bones cracked fixing up Valentina's messes. It was monotonous, but you had convinced yourself to be grateful for the opportunity to become something more with what you had. You had a special gift after all. Thrusted onto you, sure, but Valentina said that it meant you were worth something now. A living shield and sword. Each time you got hit, your body was able to process the kinetic energy into physical blasts. Meaning dodging an attack was actually bad form on your part. So you got hit. A lot. Most days you'd stumble back to your apartment, knocked in the head so silly you didn't know what was up or down.

But it was good work. Kept you busy. That was until Valentina attempted to have you assassinated, trying to tie up all her loose ends. That's all you were to her at the end of the day. A fly on the way she had to clean up before her guests arrived. Turns out though, she had lots of other flies on the walls, who would in fact turn their forces against her, becoming the world's New Avengers in the process.

One of Yelena's first personal tasks on the job was to find any other lost associates of Valentina. Lucky for you, you fell right into that category. After proving yourself physically capable and trustworthy to her and the rest of the team, you eventually joined as an official member. Your rise to glory had been long and tough, but man was the view from the top nice.

As you grew closer with each of the teammates, you noticed each of their little knick-knacks. Yelena was very easy to let you in, almost like she was begging to share herself with someone else. She must've gotten it from her father, Alexei. He didn't take anything more than four hours to warm up to you. The other three went at a much slower pace, Ava and you eventually bonding over your mutual teasing for Walker, who you made sure knew it was all in good fun. Bucky was last, but it seemed thats how he was with most people. You let him take his time, which seemed to work well in the end. All of them had made their way.

Well. Almost.

Bob was kind of a weird guy. He was kind of an Avenger? But not really? If anything, he was more of their dog that would show up to public appearances with you and the team, but never missions. He spent most of his time lounging around or cleaning up the Watchtower, or in sessions with his therapist. He was always looming around, but kept a specific distance. Mainly physical. Whenever you'd seem to be about to brush by him, he'd scatter away, like a cat who got spooked. You had talked to Yelena about it before, but she said to just give him his time. That this was probably natural after his "incident" a few months back.

You weren't in New York for it, but it of course was on the news everywhere. How a sea of black ink had devoured the city and all of its civilians in their own personalized trauma nightmare. Something you were secretly grateful to have missed. You knew exactly what you'd see if you were in there.

In the recent time of your arrival, you had managed to find and take up your role in your little group. Their own little weird mage, banned from making food for anyone but yourself. No one else liked your burnt food, big shocker.

As you wrapped up with said burnt lunch, you took your plate and utensils to the sink, as a pair of bare feet patted into the room. "Good morning sleepyhead," you called out, knowing who they belonged to already. "Morning's a bit of a stretch, it's like what, 1:30 already?" Bob replied, mid yawn. "I told you guys to start forcing me up earlier," he complained. "Yeah yeah, but Yelena says it's good for you. Your body needs its rest after the serum treatment," you retorted. "Doesn't..." he paused mid sentence to check his sleep tracker on his watch. "....14 hours seem like a little much?" "Hey, your body's gonna take what it needs," you said, finally turning around to face him. He was wearing his usual lounge outfit, a gigantic, comically oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. His body had grown incredibly sensitive to touch after the serum, so the less fabric tightening down on him, the better.

Bob gave a half smile to your comment and attempted to wipe the drowsiness off his face. "You can leave that for me, it's fine," Bob commented, as you took the dish soap and drizzled it over your dirty plate and pan. "I don't mind, I'm already here anyways," you insisted, turning on the tap. Bob sighed and shrugged his shoulders backwards in an attempt to wake his body up. "Alright, but I'm taking charge on the stovetop," he insisted, walking over to your area.

Something must've been in the air today, because this was the most Bob had talked to you in a while, and this was definitely the closest he had stood near you ever before. His presence was a sweet one, as he himself was a sweet guy. You had seen it in the way he acted with everyone else. You knew it probably had to deal with the fact that you were the newcomer, a different face than what he was used to, but you wanted to badly to have something that close with him too. A deep, lingering jealousy had proved to be a close friend of yours when you would see how he would act with John or Yelena compared to how he would act with you.

Hopefully, this was a step in the right direction.

"You know where the others went?" Bob almost immediately asked.

Or maybe not.

"Downstairs in a meeting with Valentina. I got a pass to skip on this one." In the last meeting you had been to, Bucky had to hold you down before you had the chance to blast her smug smirk off her face.

Bob made a hum in acknowledgment. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded, which you caught out of the corner of your eye. "How do you feel about....her?" Bob paused for a moment.

When Yelena had told you Valentina was at majority blame for The Void Incident, you had no doubt in believing it. You didn't know how the others were so okay with it, but Ms. de Fontaine being your boss still unsettled you. You didn't like the idea that she was still overseeing all of your actions and controlling how you were supposed to be acting towards the public. Especially after the shit she's pulled. Once Yelena explained the situation, about the blackmail shock collar the team had on her if she ever took anything too far, you felt a little more at ease about it. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake off the paranoia about being in this situation with her.

"Fine," Bob responded. You placed the plate down in the sink and turned to face him finally. "That's all you're gonna give me? Fine?" He gave a deep, annoyed sigh. "Well what do you want me to say? That I don't like her? That I don't trust her? That she's the reason I'm like this now and when it didn't go the way she planned, she killed me? Hmm?" You froze a little bit. You hadn't seen this side of him before. The team said it came out a little bit when he would go "Sentry-Mode" (a name made on Alexei's part). You sighed and went back to washing your dish. Bob rubbed his face again. "Sorry, I just thought it was pointless to state the obvious." You smirked a little bit. "Well that's one thing right. Just trying to fill the air I guess." "I know....sorry, that was mean." There's the Bob you know. Always apologizing. "You're good."

The air was stuffy with a tension for the next few minutes while you cleaned the kitchen. Up until a wet glass plate slipped out of your hands and crashed onto the floor, shattering into a billion little pieces. Bob flinched at the sound, on the other side of the island wiping down the counter. You froze and chuckled to yourself a bit. "Woah, you okay?" he asked, concerned. "Yeah, yeah, just a bit of a ditz today," you said, wiping your hand across your face. "You're good, just stay where you are for a sec, I don't want you to get any in your feet," Bob warned, going into first responder mode as he assessed the situation. "I wanna try this out for a second," he insisted.

You watched closely and stilly, as Bob took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and put his hands out. Suddenly, the glass shards around your feet jittered and lifted into the air slowly, as Bob opened his eyes and guided them to the trash can. Once he was done, he released his breath and dropped his hands. "Well look at mister big shot powers over here!" you cheered. "Bucky let you start practicing again recently?" "Yeah, a little bit here and there just so I don't go overboard again," he blushed a light pink. "Keep it up," you smiled at him.

Before you took another step, you looked down at the ground and noticed a particularly large piece of glass. "Oops, looks like you missed one hot-rod." "Shit, sorry, let me try one more time," he said closing his eyes again. "No no, don't worry, it's fine, I'll just pick this one up," you insisted, reaching down to pick it up. "No, wait, you'll cut yourself!" Bob shouted, almost running over to reach you. "Bob, it's fine I pro-."

As Bob's hand grabbed onto your wrist, you felt a spike of shivers roll down your arm. The first time he had made contact with you, and his hands were so soft....

You couldn't focus on it for long though, looking up and seeing a face of pure horror on Bob's face. You looked at him confused. You were quick to join him though as streams of black slithered across the floor and over your eyes. The last thing you remember was Bob's hand ripping off your wrist, desperately called out your name as the shadows took his place.

~~~~~

Your eyes peeled open, as you tried to assess your surroundings after the chaos. It was eerily quiet, a leaky faucet dripping as the only sound. The room was dark, damp, and cold. Concrete floors and walls, a chamber pot in the corner, and a cot with a wrinkled, thin blanket shoved against the wall. After your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you saw her. The lone decoration of the room. A poster of 1961's Breakfast at Tiffany's, Audrey Hepburn's face faded and discolored with time. The more you stared, the more you recognized this room. You knew where you were. And worst of all, you knew exactly what day this was.

With almost perfect timing, the metal door slide open with angry force. Three armored men burst into the room, as you heard something shuffle itself across the floor. You didn't even notice her at first.

A girl, shoved up into the corner of the wall, head hanging over the chamber pot as she wiped the bile off her mouth. Your memory was fuzzy, but she couldn't have been older than 17 at the time. With short, flat, oily, botched up hair. Wires were bursting out of her neck and down her back, connecting her to a running machine in the wall for vitals.

You. An older one.

The most notable feature was her frame. You would expect someone in this situation to look malnourished, seconds away from death. On the contrary, uncanny muscles were bulging out of her arms and upper back, like they were clawing to be let out. A product of the treatment, like a sumo wrestler on steroids.

The men rushed over to that version of you, ripping the wires out of her neck and latching on a power damper collar in their place. That collar itself was an omen. Can't torture the girl who can absorb the pain and shoot it back out. You'd just be throwing fuel onto the fire.

They forced younger you up to your feet as their superior walked into your room. You could feel your heart stop in your chest as you searched in desperation for a way out. You called out for Bob, Yelena, anyone at all. Almost like your mind was in tune with your decisions, the metal door slammed shut just before you could run out. You leaned your head on the door, not bearing to look, barely standing to listen.

Your old superior examined younger you and the rest of the room, the poster in particular. He smiled sadistically at it. "A real stunner she was, eh?" You scoffed at his words while younger you darted her eyes away. In one swift movement, he ripped the poster down to reveal a makeshift hole halfway into the wall. Your escape route. Taking a deep breath, you finally turned around to face the incoming carnage.

"You think you're smart huh?" the man asked her. Younger you tilted her head up, looking him straight in the eyes, too worn down to care what would happen to her. He smirked. Her silence was enough of an answer. He snapped at his employees, one of them slamming the butt of his gun into her temple in response. You couldn't help but flinch.

The superior slide open the metal door again, as his pawns dragged her unconscious body out the door, while you closely followed. The harsh hospital lights left a sting to your eyes as you traveled through your mind's endless hallways. Finally, you reached the chamber. The door slide open to reveal a dentist chair and an array of instruments littered throughout the room.

The men placed her down into the chair, one of them injecting a serum into her arm to wake her up. Younger you shot awake, pulled down by different leather restraints. Bile filled your mouth as you were reduced to being so helpless to just watch. A doctor followed into the room soon after the six of you, his face burned into your mind.

He took two long prongs, pinching them onto the skin of her elbow, and turned on a machine to send out electrical shocks. After a signal from the commander, he sent out the first wave. You couldn't help but turn your head away, holding back your own tears as phantom pains of remembrance ripped through your skin.

The worst part of all of this was how younger you barely struggled at all, only letting out blood curdling screams of pain. She had accepted her fate hours ago, knowing this was inevitable. Why fight it. It would only make it worse. It made you sick to your stomach. How much she had given up at this point.

A pause in the shocks. You turned your head back to see the commander walking up to the girl, sticking his face down to her's. "You knew this was going to happen?" The girl nodded her head slowly, with the energy she had left. He scoffed. "Then you're dumber than I thought." He stepped back again and signaled for the second wave.

Not baring to take it again, you went against your own judgement and rushed between the men, ripping the prongs off of the girl's body. You met her eyes for a split second.

Behind the numbness, you could see her fear. Roaring underneath the surface.

Before you could sense the rest, you felt a slam into your own temple, knocking you down to the floor. You looked up to see all the men looking at you now, the first time they had done so. The commander pushed past them, staring you down. He crouched down to your level, pushing a stray hair back behind your ear as you shuddered. "Still the same dumb girl I see," he smirked.

In a split second, he grabbed your arm, attaching one of the prongs to it, as the still working machine sent hundreds of volts into your arm in a split second, slicing through your nerves.

~~~~

Before you had time to react to the pain, your body in the real world roared back to life, as you screamed and coughed to catch your breath. You found yourself sitting down in the middle of the kitchen as your hands scrambled all over the ground as you hyperventilated, trying to ground yourself. "Woah, woah, woah, easy, I got you, you're safe now!" You looked up and finally noticed Yelena sitting on the ground in front of you. She had both hands placed on your shoulders, looking deep into your eyes to help you center yourself. You frantically looked around the room, finding the other team members close by, staring at you. Eventually, you found Bob, walking out of the room with Bucky close on his tail. You wanted to talk to him, knowing he was probably upset too, but you had bigger things on your mind.

"I.....I..." You couldn't get the words out. Before you could try again, Yelena softly pulled you into a hug, that you returned very quickly. "You're good now, okay?" she asked. You nodded gently into her shoulder. With more deep breaths and a few tears, you eventually were brought back down. You pulled out of the hug, and began to stand on your feet.

"Yelena, I told you I needed the team up to the helicopter deck in five minutes, do you guys take pleasure in disobeying me or wha-." Valentina bursted out of the elevator, rambling on about what they were probably discussing in the meeting. She only paused after noticing the obvious tension in the room. She looked at you, hunched over and mascara running down your face. "Well what happened to you this time?"

~~~~~~~

The ambient blue glow of the tv washed over your face, as your eyes glazed over the screen. In the few hours since the incident, the team decided it was best for you to sit out on this mission. So you had cooped yourself up in your room, trying anything to distract your mind from going back to that place. Every now and again, you'd hear light pacing footsteps in the hallway outside your door.

You hadn't spoken to Bob since you went under. He hadn't made any attempts to apologize yet. Yelena said it would probably take some time and she would talk to him as soon as she got back. You didn't want to wait until then to make things right, but knowing how fragile both of you were at the moment, you didn't want to accidentally make anything worse.

When the footsteps finally stopped, you sat up a little bit in your bed. Three soft knocks followed. You paused. "Come in." It wasn't him.

Ava gave you a soft "Hi" before stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "How was the mission?" you asked her. She shrugged her shoulders. "More of the same really, you didn't miss much." She gave a little hop onto your bed, laying down on her stomach next to you. "How you feeling?" You gave a little sigh to her. "A little better. I just think I need time." She nodded at your response, and gently held your hand. "You need me, you know where to find me, okay?" You smiled and nodded at her kind gesture. Ava put up a front with the rest of the time, teasing many of the others and acting nonchalant. But something else came out in her around you. That little girl, normally shoved under years of pain and killing.

"Can I ask you something?" you asked her. "Of course." You took a deep breath in and looked her in the eye. "Back when....he took over New York, what did you see?" Ava took a minute to think to herself. "Well, I went through three different rooms to find Bob and Yelena at the center." You adjusted yourself to a more comfortable, open position, trying to create a more welcoming energy in the room as Ava got vulnerable with you. "First room was with my parents and how I got....this way." She took off one of her gloves from her suit, showing her hand phasing between multiple quantum planes at once. A painful experience, she described it as. "Second room was one of my first missions with S.H.I.E.L.D., I had to take out an unarmed doctor."

She twiddled with her fingers, looking down as she picked at the nails. "Last one was a fight I had with an old friend.....he was trying to protect me from....myself I guess....said a lot of things I regret." You frowned down at her, placing a hand on her back to rub it in condolences. "That Bill guy you were talking about earlier, right?" She nodded. "But anyways, I've learned not to dwell on it anymore. My life is different now." She looked up at you. "All of ours are now." You nodded in acknowledgment.

"We're never gonna let those bastards get you again. Can you trust me on that?" She held your face between her hands. You nodded. She looked at you deeper. "I can. All of you," you verbalized. She sat up and pulled you in tightly for a hug. Ava was your best friend. You could trust her more than anyone else here on that.

As she pulled away, she cleared her throat. "Can I ask you a question now?" You nodded. "Do you blame Bob for what happened?"

You took a second.

"No." Ava raised an eyebrow at you. "I really don't." "Okay good, just making sure." You smiled at her. "Is Yelena talking to him?" "She's gonna try to at least," Ava sighed. "He's gonna be like this for a while. Scampery, avoidant. We've learned it's best to let him work through it." You nodded. "But he's gonna be okay, right?" Ava looked up at you, slight confusion in her eyebrows. "Yeah....." You nodded. "Okay....good."

Ava sat in silence for a little bit. "You care more about him being okay than you being okay?" You looked at her, clogs turning in your mind. "When you put it like that, I guess." She looked even more confused now. "Why?"

.....

"I don't know."

~~~~~~~

The next few days were spent with you trying to answer that question for yourself. You and Bob's relationship before this was never a super close one. You always naturally kept a distance from each other. It didn't make much of a difference if things went back to normal from this or not. So why did it matter? Why did it matter if he started talking to you again? Because man did you want him to again. And badly too.

It was like he was playing a prank on you at this point. Every time you would enter a room he was in too, he would find some excuse to leave, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth. You knew the other team members noticed it too, because you would see one of them usually follow out of the room with him to confront him. You didn't want him to take the blame for this. You knew he was just taking this healing stage at his own pace. But man did you just wish his pace would go a little faster.

At least he wouldn't go on missions with you guys, then you'd really be screwed.

You tended to forget a very important fact because of that.

"Val needs you all downstairs in an hour, there's that press conference about the rebranding today." You could hear Mel talking to the group from your cracked bedroom door. You had been snooping in there, since Bob was in the control room outside with everyone else. "Bob, she wants you there too this time, says the more members there in support, the better."

Shit.

You could hear his whiny groan from your room. "Do I have to?" "Unless you wanna tell Val yourself." That must've been a huge wake up call for him, cause you could hear him rush your way to his room to get ready. He made split second eye contact with you before closing the door. Your heart almost broke with the swiftness his eyes darted away.

You closed your door and started getting ready yourself before you had to take orders from anyone. Most press meetings required a more casual, business attire. Ones like this however, required full glam, full hair, and full costume. You were particularly fast at the getting ready process, especially since you didn't have a thousand gun holsters you had to fasted on, unlike your other team members.

Your costume was also fairly simple. With the nature of your powers, your previous suits had a knack for getting the sleeves torn off, so you decided to replace that design with a simple, black, mock neck bodysuit. Your pants were standard black cargo pants, multiple pockets in case you needed any physical weapons on you in an emergency. They were tied off with a pair of heavy duty combat boots.

For press conferences, Valentina usually requested you to go the most glam with hair and makeup out of the group, since the other two girls were slightly opposed to it. So once that was finally done, you walked out of your room into the control deck, ready to go.

You usually sat there for a good amount of time by yourself, until one of the guys would join you. But this time, Yelena was the first one out after you, albeit half dressed, in the middle of doing her eyeliner, and a makeup bag in her hand.

She looked at you, slightly distressed. "What's up?" you asked. She clenched her teeth. "You're gonna say no, I know it." "Can you just ask me?" She took in a deep sigh. "Can you help Bob with his hair and makeup?" It took every bone in your body not to burst out laughing at her request.

For Valentina and the press, everyone in the tower had to be dressed up. Including the guys. Not too much, but some to cover up most of their "tough guy" looks. Almost like a stage makeup of sorts. The stylists you guys had were always wrangled up with Alexei and Walker, always opposed to the idea and needing extra support, so Yelena would take care of Bob's and Bucky would handle his own.

"I'm already running behind and Val wants Barnes and I down early to practice responses." You looked at her, baffled. "And Ava can't do it?" Yelena raised her eyebrows at you. "It's a miracle Ava can do her own." True, unfortunately. "Yelena, you're kidding me right?" She walked closer to the couch you were sitting at. "He's a grown man, can't he do it himself?" "Yes, but unfortunately he's also a very slow learner too." You shook your head to yourself. "Have you even been in the tower for the past week, he won't even look at me right now," you whispered. She sighed to herself. "I know I know, and this would be a one time thing I promise, I just really need the help right now."

You leaned back into the couch and washed your hands over your face. "And not to be an instigator, but I think it would help you two also." You snorted at her sentence, taking your hands off your eyes to see how serious her face was. You took a deep breath and thought it over for a second or two. "Fine," you gave her, deadpanned. "But you owe me so much right now." Yelena let out a sigh of relief. "I really do, thank you." She dropped the makeup bag, presumably filled with the tools you'd need, in your lap, and bolted towards her room.

~~~~~

The door to the room loomed over your head, seemingly getting taller with every passing second you stood in front of it. Biting the bullet, you finally gave four slight knocks on his door, the same knock Yelena used for all of you. Yes, it was a bit of a trick, but you knew he wouldn't have let you in otherwise. You heard a soft, kind "Come in" from the other side of the door that made your heart warm up ever so slightly. You took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door. Your heart froze up again when you saw the way his smile dropped when you walked in. He was dressed in his usual attire for conferences, a pressed, slightly too big for him, tuxedo with dress shoes. But of course, his hair was in its natural, shaggy mess and you could spot any upcoming pimples from a mile away. Your job for the afternoon.

"What ar-" "Before you kick me out can I explain!" you jumped in before he could interject. He waited a second before nodding. "Yelena had to go downstairs early and doesn't have the time to get you ready, and before you ask, yes everyone else is too busy, and yes, I am your last resort."

His eyes darted away from you and to the ground, the most of an invitation over as you were gonna get. You took a seat on his partially made bed, observing the rest of his room. It took you a second to remember that you've never been in here before. It was a lot cleaner than you expected it to be. Then again, he spent almost all of his time in the tower, so he had a lot more time to clean than the rest of you did.

There were scattered band posters on the dark blue walls of the room, and a few collected rocks lying on his T.V. stand. You opened up the bag and took out his hair gel first. Val liked his long, overgrown hair to be slicked back for press events. You squirted some of the gel on your hands and lathered it deep into them.

When you went for his hair though, he moved his head slightly back away from you. You immediately put your hands down in response. "Okay, let's get this straight now," you snapped. "I get you're mad at me for whatever reason, but I'm not gonna take this from you right now, especially when I'm trying to help you. So either grow the fuck up, or you can do it yourself, okay?" His eyes widened a little bit. You were never the mean type towards anyone on the team, but when your limits were tested like this, you had no choice but to respond.

Putting back any feelings he had, he straightened up and leaned closer into you. "Thank you," you responded. "I'll be quick, I promise. Out of your bubble in no time." Your hands tangled into his hair, pushing the light brown strands back in straight lines. Before it would get tangled in by the gel, you could feel how soft his hair was. Even if it was overgrown, you could tell he took pride in it.

As you pushed his hair back into a makeshift mullet, making sure the gel wasn't ruining his curls at the bottom, you noticed something. Just out of your peripherals, you could see his eyes, darting every which way. They couldn't stay still for more than a second. Sometimes they would be at your shoulders, at your legs, your hair. Most of the time though, they were trying to find where you weren't. But each time, they would land magnetically back to you.

You couldn't help but let out a little laugh to yourself, a little breath out of your nose. "What?" Bob reflexively asked. You smiled and shook your head. "I really don't get you, man." His brows furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" Finally finished with his hair, you untangled your hands and brought them back to you, his eyes following them. "Bob, you're scared shitless of me."

A glow of pink wiped over his cheeks. "N-no I'm not." You laughed right in his face, as you went into the makeup bag and pulled out primer, foundation, and concealer. You squeezed lines of primer from the bottle onto his face. Before you could use your hands to rub it in though, he quickly grabbed your wrist again. Same way as before. You froze for a second before you realized, nothing was happening. You weren't going back in. You realized why when you looked at Bob's face, focused now more than you had ever seen before.

Your face and demeanor softened. "Bob." His face turned to yours, fear glazing over his eyes, trying desperately to keep the void from taking you again. You took his calloused fingers in your hands, peeling them away from your wrist and holding it with your own. You looked into his deep blue eyes, almost lost in them.

"I'm not scared of you."

His breath shook at your words, and you could've sworn you saw his eyes slightly water up. "I never have been. And I don't plan on changing that." The tension in his body melted away at those magic words. His lips pursed inwards as he looked down at your hands intertwined. "Can you trust me on that?" He gave a slight nod to you. You took his chin to your hand and pulled it up to look at you. His eyes were fully watery now. "Can you?" It took him a second.

".....I can."

You smiled at him.

"Thank you," he whispered. You closed your eyes and nodded to him. "You're welcome." The two of you sat for a moment like this, hands tangled in each other and observing each other's faces. You noticed how large his hands were. You never really considered your hands as small either, so the fact they were still much bigger than yours surprised you. They were restless as well, constantly moving between your own fingers, like they were getting a feel for how yours were. This was the most you had ever seen him before, in more ways than one.

Eventually, you let his hand go and cleared your throat. "Let's get you ready now, I'd rather avoid an earful from Val after the conference." Bob nodded and sat up straight again, as you rubbed the primer into his face with your thumbs. His slightly stubbled chin tickled the pads of your fingers in an almost hypnotic notion. Before you even knew it, your hands were staying caressing his face. Bob didn't seem to mind it, his eyes slowly closing, and even leaning his face into your touch further.

The two of you immediately snapped out of it at the sound of Bob's door slamming open. Mel stood at the door, panting, hand leaning against the frame for support. "What the hell is taking so long?" she asked frantically. "Uhhhhhh." The lack of an answer you two could come up with only angered her more. She rolled her eyes and pointed to you. "Get downstairs, I'll finish up with him." You looked back to Bob, smiled, gave his cheek a quick pat as you stood up and walked out the door.

Before Mel closed the door behind you, you caught Bob's eyes, hypnotically following you. As if he was searching for you. For more.

~~~~~~

Something shifted between the two of you after that day. No more avoidance. You found Bob coming to you for anything now. Whether he was having one of his bad days, needed help cleaning something up, or even if he just wanted to watch a movie with someone. Equally, you found yourself going to him for almost anything. Almost.

The main difference between the two of you was Bob had told you everything about him. You knew him like a book. Every page studied and memorized. But when he would ask you something about your past, you always managed to slither out of the question. You didn't mean to be so secretive around him. It was more of a reflex at this point. You'd done it with everyone. He was included in that group.

You could tell it hurt him though. Knowing there was some part of you that either didn't trust him enough to know, or maybe just didn't want him to know at all. Hopefully with time you'd be able to open up, not just to him, to everyone. But that's all the two of you could do for now. Hope.

A sign of that coming close had finally appeared, a new impulse crossing your mind. Dating.

For obvious reasons, relationships had never been a top priority for you. But as things were slowing down in your life, you began to feel left out of the "dating in NYC" craze. Without much experience under your belt, you decided to go through the dating app route. That proved to be more challenging than you thought. "I don't think men on here have ever had a conversation with a woman before," you'd complain to Bob or Ava constantly, usually followed by a large eye roll from them.

Lightning seemed to have struck though. On your way home from grocery shopping, you managed to bump into a guy at your bus stop. It was something straight out of a movie, the way the wind knocked of your cap and he had managed to catch it for you. The two of you spent the entire bus ride talking, and he eventually asked you for your number once you reached your stop. Tonight was date night. He had planned a special dinner in the city, and the two of you would go dancing after.

"Are you sure this guy's not like some stalker or something? You are a superhero after all, there's weird fans all over the city," Ava protested. Her and Bob were sitting in your room as you got ready. She sat on your light yellow beanbag on the floor, tossing a crumpled up paper with the address to the restaurant on it into the air. Bob was laying down on your bed, extra quiet today for some reason, staring up at the ceiling.

"He's not, I promise, Bob saw him too, he can vouch for me," you waved her off, looking in your mirror trying to do your makeup. You could see Ava look to Bob behind you through the mirror. She raised her eyebrow at him, which he just shrugged off. "I'd just prefer you not get kidnapped tonight, so try to avoid that if you can," she turned back to you. "Ava, if he's a normal citizen, I'll have zero problems defending myself, if anything happens," you defended. You sprayed some setting spray onto your face, and got up to change into your outfit.

Your bedroom had an attached bathroom, so you went in there to change. Once you closed the door, you took off your current sweats and baggy turtleneck sweater and slipped on your outfit. Your date asked you to go a little more formal than normal first date, so you specially picked out your outfit from your closet: a black boat-neckline midi dress, with a little thigh slit for less formal environments. It was gifted to you a few years back, but you hadn't worn it since. There was one glaring issue you noticed.

Throughout your time in the lab, you had obviously developed some scars. You didn't mind most of them, being electrocution scars, which made for some pretty cool war stories. Photoshoot photographers were particular fans of those. Some scars, however, weren't exactly your favorites. The specific one being a thick, prominent scar, starting at your right collarbone and trailing up to the back of your neck. It was fairly recent, compared to the rest of your scars, so the fading process was far from beginning. It was part of the reason you stuck to turtleneck fashion so much. But with this dress here, it was finally out in the open, something you weren't so sure you were comfortable with.

After convincing yourself though, you were willing to bite the bullet if it meant looking all dolled up for once. After a final examination in the bathroom mirror, you took a step out the door to show off to your friends. Both of them seemed to jump back to the positions they were in before you walked into the bathroom, almost like they were gossiping girls before. But once they noticed you, the air in the room stopped.

Ava was the first one to give out a little supportive holler when you stepped out, getting a little giggle from you. "What are you waiting for, give us a twirl!" she shouted. Obliging, you gave a little curtsey and spin. Turning to Bob, you could see a little smile curling up from this mouth. "So, what do you think?" you asked him, hoping for some words out of him today. "You look beautiful. Really really beautiful." There was a slight tint of melancholy in his words. You believed what he said, that was sincere. But his smile was actively lying to you.

His eyes spoke the truth though. You watched him as his eyes traced the way your dress hugged your body, highlighting all the beautiful parts of you, leaving little to the imagination. You saw his eyes stop at your collarbone, and his smile faded away. Just before you could see his mouth open to ask about it, you jumped right in. "Well, I better get going, I don't wanna miss my train," you frantically said, grabbing your kitten heels and strapping them on.

Ava and Bob followed you out of your room and towards the elevator out of the tower. Ava gave you a tight hug, whispering a little "Text me if you think he's a killer," before letting go. Bob's body seemed to stutter a little bit before giving you a hug. He had been more in control of the void spreading through his touch, but he was still cautious over it. His hugs always felt like home. The way he would squeeze you just the right amount and how well your chin fit into the crook of his neck. His hand sat comfortably just above your hips, with always his pinky finger straying a bit lower and tracing your upper thigh. When he let go he stayed close to you for a second, his eyes just slightly lower than where yours were. "Be safe, okay?' he asked with full sincerity. You nodded and let go just before getting into the elevator. "I will."

~~~~~~~

You rested your back against the elevator, back at the tower and up to your room after the long night. You checked your phone for a time. 2:24 am. Hopefully everyone else would be asleep when you got back.

The date wasn't bad. Not at all. In fact, it was one of the better ones you could remember going on. Dinner was nice and you went down to this jazz bar for some dancing. He walked you back to the tower and the two of you even shared a quick kiss.

So why did you feel so....weird? The circumstances were perfect for a second date. You like the guy, you really did. But something about him kept you from getting truly comfortable with him that night. The little things. The way he insisted to the waiter on splitting the bill, the way you had to stop every taxi for the two of you, the way he'd cut off your sentences. The way he couldn't stop looking at the scar poisoning your neck. That one really got you.

Maybe it was just your anxiety highlighting it, but it seemed every time his eyes would trail away from yours, they would land right on that scar. Like he was trying to subconsciously let you know it was there. As if you didn't have to take the work to try and cover it up every day of your life. That irked you most of all. You felt awful about it, it wasn't his fault it was there. But no matter how hard you tried, whenever you thought about going on a second date with him, you couldn't erase the look in his eyes out of your mind.

As you examined it in the mirror in the elevator, the doors slid open to an empty living room and kitchen floor. You wiped the tiredness off of your face and turned on a dim overhead lamp, setting your purse on the kitchen island to grab a quick water bottle. Your ears perked up when you heard some stirring from the couch area. Following the noise arose a head of shaggy brown hair. Your face softened and smile lifted when you saw his head turn around to find you. "Hi," you whispered just loud enough for him to hear. Bob replied with a sleepy "Hey," eyes still lowered.

"Whatcha doing out here, shouldn't you be in bed?" you asked, walking over to the couch. "Couldn't sleep...came out here to city watch and try to get sleepy." Your head turned to the massive windows overlooking the night city, still so alive. Bob let out a small yawn and reached his arm over to where you were standing. You took his hand, allowing him to guide you over to sit next to him on the couch. His position was slouched and comfortable, still half asleep. He rested his head into your shoulder, sending a little nervous shiver into you. "How was it?" he asked, eyes closing. You sighed. "Good." He chuckled under his breath. "What's that for?" you asked, pointing your eyes down to him. "Someone who went on a good date wouldn't just say it was 'good'," he slyly slurred out. Maybe this is why you never see Bob right after he wakes up. This Bob was kind of an asshole.

"What, can I not go on a date that's just 'good'?" you asked, getting slightly mad with him. "Someone as special as you shouldn't have to lower herself to going on dates that are just 'good'." The words trailed off in volume on the way out, almost like he didn't even know they came out in the first place. But you managed to catch them. And they sent butterflies down into your stomach, a pink glow to your cheeks, and a stupid grin to your mouth.

You looked down at him, resting on your shoulder. His body leaned perfectly into yours, filling all the empty space with his own. His delicate hands rested in his lap while his eyelashes tickled the upper parts of his cheek. And his hair, his beautiful hair, curled perfectly at the ends, grazing against the back of your neck with the air of The Watchtower. You could fall asleep with him here for days, in perfect, complete serenity.

"So why was it just 'good'?" he finally asked after what seemed like minutes of silence. You thought to yourself. "Cause I'm not gonna go on a second date." He lifted his head off of your shoulder and looked at him, with a slight concern on his droopy face. "Did something happen?" "No no no, I promise," you quickly shut down the idea. "It's just....." He sat more at attention, rubbing his eyes to try and wake up more. You both turned to look at each other, the sides of your faces resting on the couch cushions. "He was fine, great even....I just...." You tried to find the words to describe what you were feeling. "C'mon honey, talk to me," Bob slipped out, in a deep, sleepy voice that sent waves through you.

"I can't see him being able to deal with me," you finally spoke. "What makes you think that?" You sighed. You sat up a little bit and pulled your hair back behind your neck and lifted up your chin. "You saw this earlier right?" Bob gave a soft hum and a nod in response. "I got this a while back, back when I was still in the labs you saw in my nightmare." His eyes focused in on the scar, trying to make it out with the little light in the room. "I wanted to ask earlier, but I didn't wanna upset you," he spoke. "I know you don't like talking about it." You smiled a little at his ability to know you so well.

"Well, on one of the missions I was sent on back there, I got injured real bad. Broke my clavicle and they could only fix it through surgery. But I wouldn't necessarily call their doctors 'top of the line', so the cleanup was messy." You brushed your hair back onto the scar to cover it up. "One of the many souvenirs they gave me," you attempted to joke. Bob smiled a little bit at it, but was still focused on your skin. "Anyways, I don't like looking at it much, it's one of my uglier scars, and when other people catch it, I can't help but worry about what they're thinking."

"What d'you think he was thinking about?" Bob asked, slouching his head back into the couch to secretly admire you. You slouched back too. "About how much of a piece of work I'm gonna be," you chuckled out, even if the thought made you wanna cry. You could see that same sadness in Bob's eyes as they trailed up to your eyes. You sighed and looked away from him to the window outside. "This is why I don't date," you joked, wiping your face.

"Hey." You looked back at him. "Can I do something I'm gonna regret once I'm more awake?" You raised an eyebrow at the suspicious statement. "Okay." He sat a little closer to you, bringing up a hand to your hair, looking to you for approval. You gave him a soft hum as he pulled the hair behind your neck again, and softly traced his thumb over the scar, leaving goosebumps in its trail.

As gently as he could, he brought his face closer and pressed his lips softly onto your clavicle. Your breath hitched, causing him to bring his face back again. His eyes bore into yours, ready to give an apology if you requested. But your hand encouraged his actions, tangling into the back of his hair and pushing his lips back in.

Bob's lips danced over your scar, as your breath got heavier and hands tugged on his roots in approval. His hands found their way to your hips, caressing you in all the right spots. You fought to keep in any sounds your mouth wanted to let out from his touch. But right as you could feel yourself getting to the good part, Bob placed his final kiss, releasing you as well. You rested your head back as Bob stood up from the couch, lending a hand out to you. "It's late, we can talk more tomorrow, but you need your rest for now." Bob almost seemed to snap out of whatever lustful spell was just over him. Or maybe you took what just happened the wrong way. You tried to process it in your head as you took his hand and stood up with him.

Hand in hand, he led you to your room. As he opened the door and let you inside, he leaned over you on the door frame with one more message: "If a man looks at you and his first thought is of is how much work you'll be, he's no man at all."

~~~~~~~~

His words stuck in your heart for the next few days as the two of you tried to pretend that nothing happened. Drowsy Bob was right, Awake Bob apologized to you profusely the next morning, claiming he had no idea what came over him that night. "....I didn't mind it," you confessed after his apology. Made him blush faster than you thought was humanly possible. After a long, embarrassingly awkward conversation, the two of you decided on an agreement.

Whenever you were feeling bad about yourself, physically specifically, you could go to his room and he'd help you....feel better. You weren't fuck buddies, that was for sure. You just happened to be friends who'd kiss each other's bodies multiple times a week. And it made you absolutely insane.

You couldn't even go to Ava about this, since you and Bob agreed it was best if this was a secretive thing. Truth is, this whole ordeal was making you obsessed with the guy. You couldn't get him out of your head. Him being your roommate only made things worse. You couldn't escape from him. You'd never wanted someone this much before, it was driving you mad.

All the problems in relationships you felt before seemed to disappear with him. Since that night, you found yourself opening up more and more to him. You knew each chapter of each other's lives. And that made you really fucking happy. Having someone you could trust with yourself utterly, wholly, and completely.

The late nights where he'd do nothing but kiss and hold you, like he knew the magic of his touch. But you were greedy. You needed more of him, but all the uncertainty just got in the way.

You knew this wasn't just a thing "friends" did. But not knowing the exact details of how he felt for you kept you from asking for more. What if this was something friends did in his mind? What if the only thing he felt for you was based in lust? You'd rather not have that potentially friendship ruining conversation, so you decided to take the "suffer in silence" route instead.

That wasn't your biggest worry at the moment though. No, that spot in your mind was currently being overshadowed by the bullet wound in your side. You weren't gonna die, your powers would take care of that step for you, but it still hurt like a bullet wound. You'd spent a couple hours on the medbay floor of The Watchtower getting patched up, now on your way up to join the rest of the team.

The minute the elevator doors opened, you were greeted by a giant hug from Alexei, shouting Russian expressions of joy. As endearing as it was, you had to have the rest of the team peel him off of you, as he was two seconds away from opening up your stitches. Once you caught your breath, you greeted the rest of the team, all glad for your recovery. Your smile dropped a little, after scanning the members in the room. "Where's Bob?" you asked. "His therapist wanted to extend his session a little bit today," Bucky answered. You nodded a little to yourself. "You know when he'll be back?" you asked, trying not to sound too needy. "Soon enough," Yelena giggled.

....

"Does he know about..." you gestured to your bandages, slightly pink from any leftover blood. In almost miracle timing, Bob stepped out of the elevator and into your conversation. "Hey, what's-," he started, before looking at you clutching your side. His eyes widened with fear. "Oh my god what happened?!" he shouted, rushing over to you. "It's fine, I'm fine, I just didn't dodge very well today and someone caught me off guard." In combat, you usually tried to avoid the gunslingers and sword masters for hand-to-hand instead. You got more energy from absorbing bullet wounds and cuts, but on a pain scale, you'd rather deal with working up multiple punches to the nose.

As Bob questioned your pain scale, it almost seemed as if the other teammates were slowly leaving the room one by one, until only you two were left in it. The two of you naturally made your way to the couch and talked about your days for what seemed like hours. You went over battle strategies, he debriefed about his appointment. Eventually, noticing the sun going down, you started to become aware of all the dirt and blood still sticking to your body. "Um, can I use your tub? I need to get the day off me before I start peeling my skin off," you joked, standing up off of the couch. "Sure, whatever you need," he insisted, getting up with you. The only teammates with bathtubs instead of showers in their rooms were Bob and Bucky, and in all honesty, you just wanted to be near Bob's presence right now.

The mixture of dried blood, sweat, and dirt stuck your suit straight onto your skin as you made a painful attempt to peel it off. You dropped the clothes to the floor, and examined the damage in your mirror, unraveling all your littered bandages. Your stitches seemed to be doing okay, but the rest of the little cuts and bruises on you made themselves apparent. Your powers were useful in the moment, but damn did the aftercare suck.

Wrapping a towel around yourself, you walked over to Bob's room, leaving a soft knock on the door. A freshly bathed Bob opened up the door, now in his own baggy pajamas, his curls still wet and dripping. "I just wanted a to take a quick soak before you got in, I got a new round of hot water running for you." You gave him a little smile and stepped inside; he closed the door behind you. "Thanks." You walked into the steaming bathroom, tub filled to the brim with hot water like he said. Bob's bathroom was a cozy, dimly lit room that smelled just like him; eucalyptus and peppermint oil, incense cones, and a touch of his cologne. It calmed you down almost immediately, and enough for you to ask your question.

"Can you...uh...help me while I'm in there?" you nervously asked. He raised his eyebrow a little bit at the question. "I-It just hurts to turn a little and I need to reach some spots on my back." He looked you over while he deliberated. "I don't wanna sound rude or anything but...you sure you're okay with me....seeing you?" he whispered that last little part. "I'm wearing a bathing suit under here, I don't mind you seeing that at least," you replied, anticipating his concern. "Oh....okay, yeah sure," he replied, scratching the back of his head.

You dropped your towel and placed it hanging over the sink. The black bikini you were wearing covered enough of you, but still allowed all your injuries to be visible. That first step into the tub was heavenly, the heat rolling down off your spine with a slight, but welcome tinge of pain. You closed your eyes and melted down into the water, Bob smiling at your relaxation. "God, I needed this," you breathed out. Bob walked up closer to you, sitting on the edge of the tub.

You sat there for a minute, body absorbing the heat and releasing the built up tension in your muscles from the day. Once you finally opened your eyes, you found Bob's eyes grazing over your body. "What is it?" you asked. A stupid grin found its way to his face, as he readjusted himself to begin helping you. "Nothing, don't worry."

Bob took a nearby loofa and his body wash, about to squeeze some onto it before you put your hand out. "This is gonna sound weird....can you use your hands?" You didn't bother giving an explanation, it wouldn't change the implications of that request. Bob gave a little nod. "Wait just, give me a sec." He quickly got up out of the room, closing the door behind him. You sat there within your own thoughts. Fuck, was that too much? you thought to yourself, praying you didn't scare him off.

After a few anxious minutes, Bob opened up the door, leaving you with a sight that made your heart stop.

He had traded in his pajamas for a pair of swim shorts. You had to fight to keep your jaw from going slack at the sight of him without a shirt on. He wasn't kidding, that serum really did do a lot of work.

First of all, you had seen his arm muscles before, frequently on display whenever he would wear a short sleeve shirt. But paired with his perfectly plumped chest, carved abs, and toned thighs, it was enough to kill a horse. Worst of all however, was his swim boxers, with a very flawed detail: they were about two sizes too small, and you couldn't tell if Bob was aware or not, but you could see it. It was bigger than you thought. You would need a tranquilizer to hide the blush on your face right now.

"I figured it'd be easier to just get in and help, and this is my only pair of trunks.....is it too much?" So he didn't know, huh. You swallowed back any urges you had and sat up a little bit more in the tub. "No, you're fine," you said, pushing your body back to make room for him in the small tub. He shuffled up and gently placed his legs in one by one, sinking in in front of you.

Bob took the body wash again, pouring some and lathering it between his hands. He motioned you to turn around so he could get your back area. Your back showed him about five scattered cuts and scratches and two large bruises by your lats. You could hear his breath shake a bit as he got closer to you. Naturally, you straightened out your back for him to work with a better canvas.

A sigh instinctively came out of your mouth when his hands came down on you, lathering the soap over your skin. His hands worked into you like putty, spreading the bubbles out evenly onto you. The callouses scratched onto your skin, and you felt a deep heat brewing into your chest. It only grew stronger when his fingers started digging into your muscles. Pain oozed out and away as his thumbs worked out the knots in your upper back. You had to bring a hand up to your mouth to keep a pleasurably moan from slipping out.

The deeper his fingers got into you, the more your body began to twitch, itching for more. The water sloshed around a little when you began to move back into him. And thats when you felt it. Your breath hitched when you caught it. He was achingly big, and you could tell by the throbbing you felt on your lower back. He must've noticed you felt it, since his fingers stopped moving. The two of you sat there for a minute in a hot tension.

Eventually, he picked up a cup sitting outside of the tub, filled it with the bathwater, and poured the soap off of your back. Putting it down, he inched slightly closer to you, his hands finding their way again back to your hips like so many times before. "Tell me where it hurts," he whispered into your ear. You tried to shake out your shivers and be honest with him, your mind needing him in one place but your body wanting him everywhere.

You took the safe route. You needed to keep control of yourself. As long as you could at least.

You pointed to a spot along your spine where one of the bruises lay. "Bend forward a little bit," he spoke, in that low, sultry voice again, almost commanding you. You listened. You moved. But unfortunately, you couldn't keep the moan inside you anymore when his lips grazed and kissed over the bruise. You could keep it quiet enough for him to, hopefully, not hear it however.

Your body adjusted and moved to fit him as his lips trailed up your spine, and eventually to the nape of your neck. He sucked on the tender skin, desperation in its trail. Before he could get too carried away though, he pulled himself off of you. His hot breath stuck to your back, as he took a moment to splash some of the steaming water onto his face. After clearing his throat, he asked you to turn back around and face him, which you did of course.

Finding his face, you could finally see the display of his emotions. The main one: a drunken look in his eyes to desperately hide a growing lust. You could tell. It was the same look in yours. Trying to continue with the bath, Bob took some more body was and drizzled it out onto your arms and upper chest. Sure, you could reach those parts of yourself fine, but what's wrong with letting a man take care of you every once in a while. And if this was how he was gonna do it, you'd be glad to give in.

He massaged the soap into your skin again, relaxing your tense arm muscles, a little gentler around your chest and collarbone area. He pressed a deep kiss into your clavicle scar, a tick for him at this point. His eyes stayed down on you, examining the way your skin fit onto your body. You brought your hand to meet his, currently pressing gentle circles onto your tricep. His eyes found a nice spot, staring at your lips, with you back at his. Trembles started to infect his hands and you could even see a slight quiver stain his lip.

"Does it hurt...anywhere here?" he gasped out. Taking the opportunity, you slowly brought your finger up to the tiniest cut you had on your chin. Smiling, he went in, almost taking your entire chin into his mouth. Your hands wrapped around his neck as his mouth moved to press sloppy kisses into your jawline. But that's all where he stayed. And you needed more than that.

Enough with the teasing, you let go of his neck and took his face in your hands, pulling his mouth away from you. He looked at you, beautiful, deep blue puppy eyes mixed with questioning and fear. "Do you remember what I told you Bob? When I was helping you get ready for the conference?" The fear left his eyes, as he realized what you were playing with here. "Remind me...." You smirked at his words. "When are you ever gonna stop being afraid of me?" you asked, eyes glued to his lips. He dropped his head and let out a defeated laugh. "It's never been you that I'm scared of....it's always been myself," he said, lifting his head back up and closer to yours. "And why's that?" The corner of his mouth lifted up as his hand went to cup your jaw, caressing it with his thumb. "Because I have to keep myself from tearing off my clothes and taking you in the living room each time you walk through that elevator."

Before you could respond to what he said, your body started moving on its own, slamming your lips into his, sloshing water everywhere. The kiss you shared was needy, hungry, and slow. Different from the ones he left littered over your body in the past. What surprised you the most about it was what fueled it. This was not a lustful kiss, which is what you had expected from him. This kiss was filled with a pure, tender, and firing love the two of you have silently shared for each other for the past few months.

His hands wrapped around your waist, hugging you closer into him and onto his laugh, where his raging erection made itself more apparent by the second. "You need me that bad, huh?" you teased, breaking away from the makeout and grinding your clothed cunt against it. Bob nodded profusely, leaning back into you to chase your lips, which you pulled back from. You bit your lip and smiled, wooed by his desperation for you. "Someone's excited, huh?" you joked. "Well, I'd rather not get waterlogged here, so how about we dry off, get these swimsuits off, and...." you leaned close to his ear. "...you can take me on your bed any way you want, how's that sound loverboy?" you bit down onto his earlobe

Bob let out a whispered moan and dropped his head into your shoulder, pressing soft kissed into it. "Yes, please," he replied. Before getting up though, he pulled you into a close hug, which you returned gladly. Bob may have a secret, shameful side you didn't know about, but at the end of the day, you couldn't take the lover out of him.

The two of you stepped out of the bathtub, drained the water, and took your towels to dry yourselves off. Once you were dried, you opened the bathroom door, releasing the steamy air into the rest of Bob room. The cold tinged both your skin, as you walked hand in hand to his bed. You were first to undress, slipping off your bikini bottoms and untying your top off. Bob could've sworn his life flashed before his eyes at that moment, as he admired your beautiful body. He quickly kicked off his trunks, allowing his cock to finally spring out to life. He playfully ran up and tackled you onto his bed, kissing into you neck as you let out playful giggles.

His mouth eventually found its way up to yours, as the two of you slipped each other's tongues into your mouths. His hands gently swept you underneath him on the bed, still careful with your injury. "I-fuck, I wanna taste you," he gasped out while you sucked marks onto his neck. "Do it," you whispered into his neck, giving it a little nibble.

He giggled to himself, as his mouth traced kissed down your neck, sternum, and stomach, all the way down to your hips. You lifted your head to look down at him. He smiled up at you as his hands grabbed into your thighs, bending your legs up. His thumb grazed along your leaking folds, already sending shivers into you. "You're so....beautiful," you could hear him whisper just before leaving his first of many soft kisses on your slit. His tongue slowly worked itself over your clit, as one of your hands found its way down into the roots of his hair.

For leverage, you pulled slight tugs onto his hair, which drove Bob bananas. Each pull only drove him further into your pussy, absorbing his own whines and moans. His tongue worked over each of your lips, memorizing the way it made his taste buds react. You tasted so good, he could sit here eating you for hours. Looking down at the sight underneath you only pushed you closer to the edge. His messy, slightly damp curls intertwined with your fingers, as he sloppily ate your pussy, juice dripping down the sides of his mouth. Game changer moment was when he brought in his digits, curling his pointer and middle finger into your swollen cunt.

An exaggerated moan of his name left your mouth, as your hips buckled into his hand, begging for more. "C'mon, you're doing so good for me baby, keep it up," he spoke into your inner thigh, leaving a little love bite in there that left you biting your tongue. As his fingers worked inside you, you wriggled over the sheets, trying to chase an oncoming high. "You're so perfect sweetheart, so perfect for me," he continuously praised.

The twitch in your lower stomach grew more powerful with the seconds, as fingers continued to hit your walls perfect, his teeth grazed your clit, and hot breath washed over you. "Bob, I-I," you started to moan out. "Do it for me baby, come for me here."

As the high washed over your body, a final moan rushed out, paired with another hip buckle and legs a twitching mess as Bob kissed into your pussy. Your juice coated all over his fingers, which added more growth to his member, if that was even possible right now. His fingers slid perfectly out of your aching pussy and into his own mouth, as he got a better taste for you. A smile curled its way onto his mouth as he sat back on his knees, watching you come down from your high.

Bob couldn't help but crawl back up to you. He had to watch this moment with his own eyes. Your heavy breaths hit his face as he leaned on his elbows to perfectly lay over him. Your cheeks glowed a heavy pink as you came down from your orgasm. "Was that good?" he asks. You couldn't help but let out at laugh at the question. Good? Did he see what happened just now? "You're adorable," you validated, love-drunk eyes gazing into his own.

He let a breath out of his nose, and dropped his whole body weight down onto you. You cried out in a fake pain and your body absorbed his heat into you. "Get off, you're killing me!" you joked. He shook his head vigorously. "No, you gotta do it yourself," he played back. You giggled and used whatever strength you had left over to try and push him off. To no avail of course. "Alright, you gotta help just a little, you're pure muscle sweetie." Bob sighed and lifted his body off of you just enough for you to roll him to the other side of the bed.

Before he could move again, you jumped on top of him, placing your own dead weight on top of him now. "You see, I'd play along now, but I'm scared I'd toss you off the bed," he said. True, best not to play games like this with someone who has super strength. "Ugh, no fair," you complained, dropping your head into his neck. You heard his awkwardly adorable laugh, making your heart soar, as he scratched the back of your head.

"C'mere, let me see you," he asked gently. You lifted your head up, a fake frown plastered on your face. The act didn't last long though when you saw his face.

The way he looked at you right now was the way girls had dreamed about since they were kids. His eyes softened with pure adoration for you, with his mouth curled into the dumbest grin. He spoke your name in a question. "Yeah?" He brought his hand up to cup your jaw, which you nuzzled your cheek into as his thumb traced over your lips. "I....I think..." he trailed off. "What is it?" His smile turned slightly more serious. "I think I love you." He paused. "I know I do."

If it weren't for his body heat grounding you into the moment, you would've sworn you were dreaming right now. Everything you've ever wanted was right here. It was all in him. It was him.

"I know I love you too."

The giddy look on his face could set you free, as both his hands grabbed your cheeks to pull you into his kiss stained lips. The two of you continued to kiss and roll all over the bed, as you prepared to continue the rest of your love filled night.

~~~~~~

Sun rays streamed through the breaks in the blinds of Bob's room. Your eyes attempted to adjust to the brightness as you awoke. Wrapped up in his sheets, blooming with his scent, you began to remember the dreamlike events of the night before. You turned to the other side of the bed, and there he was.

Like a painting, Bob laid next to you, still off in his hopefully pleasant dreams. Loose strand of hair fell in front of his sleeping face, his mouth slightly agape to breathe, still swollen lips. In fact, all of your souvenirs from the night before laid over him: scattered hickeys along his neck and shoulders, and nail scratches peeking over from his upper back. It was perfect. He was perfect.

His breath readjusted as he began to stir a bit, and finally, his lashes fluttered open to see you. A childlike smile painted your face as you saw his sleepy eyes adjust to you. "Good morning sleepyhead," you pressed into the tip of his nose as you kissed it. He smiled an eyes closed one to you. "Morning honey." You had found out last night how much of a pet-name user Bob was. You didn't mind at all. It only helped seal the "it feels like i'm in a movie" idea for you. "How'd you sleep," he asked with his eyes still closed. "Good, great even," you hummed. "And you?" His eyes opened and he leaned in closer to you to kiss you silly. "Best in years, honest truth."

After some morning talk, Bob got up to go to the kitchen, leaving you with some extra minutes for sleep. When he returned, it was with a plate of breakfast on a tray just for the two of you. It took a miracle for you not to jump over the bed and onto him then and there. The plate for you included all your favorites: blueberry Eggos, orange slices, and eggs. These weren't your usual eggs though. "I know you like them burnt, but by the time I remembered, I had taken them out of the pan and these were the last two," he apologized.

You inspected the eggs with your fork. It scared you a little, but you'd rather risk a stomach ache than hurt Bob's feelings right now. And plus, it was time to finally grow up. Taking them onto your fork, you took a deep breath, and put them in your mouth.

Chew, chew, chew. Swallow.

God, these were so much better than rubbery, burnt eggs. "These are so fucking good Bob, oh my god," you salivated. He smiled that dumb grin and climbed into bed next to you, as the two of you continued the rest of your morning together. It was nice to know you didn't have to burn your eggs anymore. The other side was better than you could've imagined.

a.n: AND THATS IT i hope you liked it lol. this is by FARRRRR the longest fic i've ever written and it took like a week and a half to write rip so i hope you all enjoyed it. please leave a note or interact if you did, i'd really appreciate it. alright thank you so much again, catch you on the next one BYEEEEEE

[baronessvonglitter]

Here are the things I've been loving on all month! Please refer to the individual warnings of each title, and give some love to the authors and check out their other amazing works 🌷

dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics 👑

ALL FIC RECS

Dieter Bravo

Chloe or Sam by @whocaresstillthelouvre ~ Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

gravity's pull by @tinytinymenace ~ Dieter Bravo/OFC!Dr. Marie Morris

I Think of You All the Time: part 1, part 2 by @schnarfer ~ Young Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Dave York

good kitty by @sizzlingcloudmentality ~ Dave York x f!reader

Starving Season by @wannab-urs ~ Dave York x f!Reader

Stolen Lunch by @aurorawritestoescape ~ Dave York x f!reader

Under False Pretenses: Ch. 14 by @joelalorian ~ Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader

Max Phillips

I Wanna Do Bad Things With You by @chronically-ghosted ~ max phillips x f!reader

Scotty Doesn't Know by @cxrsed-angel ~ Max Phillips x Fem!Reader

Din Djarin

i'd look for you by @jolalibrary ~ din djarin x f!reader

The Things She Sees by @criticallyacclaimedstranger ~ Shy, inexperienced Mando x blind ofc

Jack Daniels

Departure by @lady-bess ~ Jack Daniels x F!Reader

Javier Peña

Ashes by @inept-the-magnificent ~ Javier Peña X f!Reader 

Blurred Lines by @yxtkiwiyxt ~ javier peña x f!reader

Dodge by @604to647 ~ Vigilante AU Javier Peña x fem!reader

The Lie by @oliveksmoked

Romance by @punkypiscesell-writes ~ Javier Peña x f!reader

unexpected kiss by @greenwitchfromthewoods

Joel Miller

Daddy by @hotgirlbedtimescenarios ~ Joel x f!reader

A Doctor's Care by @pedge-page ~ Doctor!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Give it to her like a man ~ by @sceletaflores ~ dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

Good Boy by @sp00kymulderr ~ Joel Miller x trans male reader

Hungry Man: Ch. 2 by @slimybeth69

Incomprehensible by @lilyinmysoul ~ JacksonJoel x F!Reader

On a razor's edge by @itwasntimethatdidit40 ~ Joel Miller x F!reader, no outbreak

pierced by @hellishjoel ~ joel miller x pierced f!reader

sickening desire by @ace-turned-confused ~ stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

the police officer pt 2 by @myownwholewildworld ~ police officer!joel x f!reader

where there's smoke by @joelswhcre

Frankie Morales

Coraline by @tateypots ~ Frankie Morales x wife!reader

good boy by @sunshineispunk

laughing through the kiss by @greenwitchfromthewoods

Three days til sunset by @sawymredfox ~ Frankie Morales x fem! able-bodied reader

Ezra

Honey Spilt Over by @rulexofxnines ~ Ezra (Prospect) x F!reader

Like Family by @max--phillips ~ Ezra x afab!reader

Clint Flood

crying through the kiss by @greenwitchfromthewoods

Inescapable by @cavillscurls ~ clint “freaky tales” x f!reader

You oughta know by @milla-frenchy ~ Clint Flood x fem reader

Marcus Pike

the great pretender by @wethairjoel

sam and diane, eat your heart out by @chronically-ghosted ~ marcus pike x f!reader

Marcus Acacius

I can't hear it now by @joelmillerisapunk ~ acacius x f!reader

Little Showgirl by @604to647 ~ Modern AU Marcus Acacius x fem!reader

Max Lord

Risky Business by @ghostofaboy ~ Max Lord/Male OC

Harry Castillo

Ace of Hearts by @pedgito ~ Harry Castillo x reader

Lavender by @galaxyedging ~ Harry Castillo x f!reader

Multi

Down Bad by @myownwholewildworld ~ police officer!joel miller x f!reader x javier peña

the interruption by @toxicanonymity ~ Javi x Steve x you

The Party by @tateypots ~ dark!Joel, dark!Tommy, dark!Frankie, dark!Javi P, dark!Ezra, dark!Dave x f!reader

Touch and Go by @sunshinehaze1 ~ virgin!Din x bi!Frankie

Self Recs

Vulgar Display of Power ~ Marcus Moreno x OFC Cat Cruz

Distractions ~ dbf!Dave York x f!reader

kiss it better ~ joel miller x f!reader

Star-Crossed ~ Dieter Bravo x gn!reader

Lunch in an Elevator : When Marcus Met Cat ~ Marcus Moreno x OFC Cat Cruz

paying off the debt ~ joel x fem!plus size!reader x clint

[innorogers]

Lull

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: So this is when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking.

Warning: Fluff / SMUT / MINORS DNI / 18+ / Unprotected Sex /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia

You slipped through the streets like shadows, holding hands, hearts racing, eyes darting over your shoulders, every sound amplified by the silence of the night. The Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – or ‘Magic Stark-Potter Thing’ as Steve was calling it – had granted you some safe time. But time was fragile, and you both knew it.

Your powers pulsed beneath your skin, guiding Steve with quiet certainty. You could feel the city’s pulse, see through the walls, and peer into the hidden corners of every alley. You led him down paths that no one else knew, invisible threads pulling you toward safety. The streets, immersed in late hours after midnight, stretched before you like the remnants of some secret map.

When you reached a narrow street swallowed by the night, you knelt down and moved a pile of old garbage cans aside, revealing a small, grimy basement window. You glanced back at Steve, and gestured for him to follow you down.

Turned out to be an underground club, and the party was just getting good.

The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and smoke. Neon lights painted the walls in erratic colors—electric blues and deep reds—while people shouted over the pounding music, their laughter swallowed by the deafening noise.

You exchanged a look with Steve as you pushed through the crowd. His usual composed demeanor flickered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene while staying close behind you. You weaved through the press of bodies, brushing against strangers lost in their own worlds, music vibrating through your bones as you both made your way to the other side. It felt like a different universe—one that was wild, loud, and completely unaware of the chaos lurking outside its walls.

“I need a computer!” You raised your voice so he could hear.

“I really don’t think you’ll find one here.” He almost laughed, holding your waist and waving through the people around you as you moved forward.

“I know.” You tilted your jaw. “But that’s perfect, look.” You pointed to the computer they used as a register to take orders. “An older one, probably. I need to enter an untraceable code; our network is probably compromised, so I need to notify the only being who can’t be hacked or corrupted.”

“Really?” Now he was intrigued. “Who?”

“Vision.” You continued to scan the place as you moved through the dancing crowd. “These machines won’t work, they’re plugged into their private network. I’ll need something connected to the outside. C'mon… let’s go to another floor.” It was a huge underground bar, so you held Steve’s hand and moved to the stairs.

“I think we’ve got company.” Steve tightened his grip as he noticed some guys entering the floor. They looked like military—tense poses and sharp, alert eyes scanning the place. He looked up and saw more of them on the floor above, near the exits and moving through the whole place.

“Let’s go, we don’t have much time. I think there’s some gear on me that’s making us trackable.” You hurried with him to go down, but stopped when those military men started coming from downstairs. You pulled him aside, hiding in a dark corner, but they weren’t leaving. Steve’s figure—tall, handsome, blonde—was too easy to recognize. A lot of women (and men) were looking at him with flirtatious eyes, intrigued.

You passed by corridors and stairs full of people, using your powers and his sensitive perception to navigate the space. The men didn’t notice you were there, but their eyes were everywhere.

You felt Steve’s body tense beside you, ready to attack at any moment, and the place would turn into hell if that happened. You cupped his face, pulling him closer to the wall, your eyes scanning behind him.

“I’ve always wanted to do this with you…” You smirked as the men passed by, and with your hand on his neck, you kissed him deeply.

Shit. Steve’s body went rigid.

This was the worst place and the worst time, but somehow, it felt so right. He’d almost forgotten how much he needed this. The moment your lips met his, your body pressed against his, the scent of smoke and debris clinging to you from the chase. But your kiss, it grounded him—reminded him why every risk was worth it.

He kissed you in the flicker of shadows, under the flashing lights, in a dark corner of an underground club. Drunk, dancing strangers moved in their own ecstasy, oblivious to the danger. It wasn’t something he ever imagined doing, but then again, you always brought the unexpected. And again...How could you ever think he’d choose anyone else over you? Over this?

He deepened the kiss, pinning you to the wall, his tongue brushing yours, and it felt so right… you tasted like sweetness, laced with something wild, like sin and salvation entwined.

“Steve…” You broke away, eyes still on the men as they passed, and he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist. You grinned. “I really don’t think this is the time…”

“Well…” He chuckled, voice rough. “I think it’s the perfect time for this.”

“Come on. Let’s move now that we have the chance.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before starting to move.

Taking advantage of the lack of enemies in sight, you made it to the last floor through doors and hidden passageways and arrived at what seemed to be a VIP room.

“There we go.” Your eyes locked onto a computer next to a more sophisticated bar. “That’ll do.” But as you approached, Steve’s senses sharpened, picking up the tension of a threat.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw a group of men—tall, armed, and bearing the unmistakable faces of movie villains. Why do they always look like the bad guys? He sighed, slowly rolling up his sleeves. Well, it was about damn time. He had been holding back this feeling of wanting to punch someone ever since a bomb exploded near your car.

“Mmm?” You turned back and noticed the surroundings. The only guy who had been on a date at a corner table rushed out with his partner as soon as the room filled with the approaching men, circling both of you. He was even polite enough to close the door behind him.

“Oh.” You blinked at the 1, 2, 3… 15 men surrounding you.

“Gentlemen, there’s really no need for this to escalate…” You advised as the tension thickened, movements slowing to a crawl before the inevitable first strike.

“Shut up, doll. We’ll take care of you later.” Said the man who seemed to be their leader, smirking at you. “And believe me, you’ll be well attended.”

“Oh … you really shouldn’t have said that.” You shook your head, already sensing Steve’s fists clenching in response.

“Sir, you’re about to get the smash of your life…” You spun just in time to grab the bartender’s hand as he reached for a weapon beneath the desk, a fight breaking out behind you. “Please don’t do that.” You blinked at him. “I just need to borrow your computer, okay?”

“Um…” The bartender, startled by your strong grip, noticed the Avengers logo on your gear and quickly reconsidered. “Um… this thing runs on Windows Millennium. Like…Yikes.” He gestured at the ancient machine. “Don’t you need something, I don’t know, more modern?”

“It’ll do, thanks.” You hopped over the bar counter and began typing. “If it doesn’t send Vision a signal, it’ll at least ping him with a virus warning.”

The moment Steve moved, the air shifted.

The first punch landed with the force of a freight train, sending one of the goons crashing into a table, shattering glass and upending chairs. Chaos erupted in the room as fists and bodies collided. Steve ducked under a wild swing, his movements sharp and precise, retaliating with a brutal uppercut that left another attacker sprawled on the floor. Damn, this is so boring. A punching bag in the training room felt even heavier.

One of the armed men lunged at him with a knife, but Steve twisted to the side, catching the man’s wrist and flipping him over with ease. The crack of bones echoed as the thug hit the ground hard, and Steve was already turning, launching a swift kick into another man’s chest, sending him crashing through the VIP room’s thin partition wall.

“Babe, you got that?” He moved his head, avoiding a knife—or whatever sharp thing was coming from the back—grabbed the guy by his arm, and twisted it like a towel.

“Just a sec.” You were typing the commands as bottles clinked and tables flew across the room, the thumping bass from the club floor below barely audible over the grunts and crashes of the fight. 

“Just… okay, there.” You turned to the bartender: “Do you want me to upgrade this system for you?”

The bartender wanted to answer, but suddenly bent over as a guy was thrown and hit against the wine cellar. He covered his head and screamed, so you raised your eyebrows and took that as a no.

With only three men left standing, they hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with each other as if silently deciding who would make the first move. But that took forever, and Steve was getting bored. He lunged forward, grabbing the nearest man by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him down onto the tables, the impact scattering bottles and glasses across the floor.

Before the next guy could even react, Steve spun, delivering a swift elbow to the second man’s jaw, sending him reeling backward into a bookshelf, knocking it over with a deafening crash.

The last man, clearly outmatched, pulled out a gun in a desperate attempt to regain control. But Steve was faster. In one fluid motion, he ducked low, dodging the shot, and surged forward, ripping the gun from the man’s hand and delivering a bone-crushing punch to his gut. The man doubled over in pain, gasping for breath, before Steve finished him off with a knee to the face, leaving him crumpled on the ground.

The room was now littered with unconscious bodies, shattered glass, and overturned furniture.

“Wow…” You said in awe. “You didn’t even sweat.” You were thinking that he sweats more when he’s in bed with you.

And he laughed, thinking the same: “I’m saving that for later.”

Just as the dust was settling and Steve was wiping his hands clean, the door burst open, and Tony sauntered in, his suit gleaming in the dim light.

"Everybody freeze!" Iron man said in a mechanical voice behind his helmet, raising his hand and pointing at… nothing. Then he lowered it, noticing the room was still, filled only with men groaning in pain on the floor, while you and Steve rolled your eyes at him.

"What? I was already nearby when Vis delivered the message just three seconds ago. It's not like I'm late..." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of unconscious bodies and broken furniture, clearly unfazed by the chaos, as the team led by Maria and Sam entered the room with their weapons raised.

"Get 'em all; we need intel," Steve sighed as he walked over to you. "There’s a lot of interrogation to do." He pulled you close. "C'mon, let's go home."

It was almost sunrise when you arrived at the compound. You slept a bit in the car, and when the heroes started debating in the command room about the next steps and strategies, you stretched your body and headed to the dressing room yawning.

You needed a cold water shower to clear your mind before helping Tony and Bruce decipher all the information. Plus, you had to get out of this suit that smelled like grilled cement, ashes, and burnt fabric.

Ugh, you were a mess. You opened the locker and started unzipping the gear when you suddenly heard footsteps behind you.

Steve’s arms locked around you before you could turn. He restrained your wrists as a frenzied kiss landed on your lips, fingers laced with yours, pinning you against the wall. While holding you captive with one hand, he explored your wrists with the other.

He was burning.

The kiss deepened, and all the feelings he had been holding back since the car chase, was poured into the embrace. 

He was so turned on by everything that had happened—the adrenaline, the action, the danger, and the risks. He was impressed, and aroused, so fucking aroused.

He knew you were special, but you didn’t even blink during the chaos. 

There were explosives, drones, and the entire freaking Iron Army chasing you in a car, and you didn’t step back an inch.

This unyielding, unwavering, fierce-as-fuck version of you was driving him insane.

“Steve…?” You broke the kiss because you needed air, though you were enjoying it. “Are you okay?” Didn’t you just kind of… escape from death?

“Better than ever.” He pressed his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I need you.” He said this while lowering your gear’s zipper, inhaling as your breasts sprang free from your clothes. He groaned, kneading them with desperate need.

Oh, okay… You moaned, tilting your head back when he sucked and lapped at them. Your gear was only half off as he pulled down your pants, kicked them aside, lifted your leg around his waist, and plunged into your already soaked folds.

Oh, wow. You gasped in awe as your inner walls stretched wide, completely filled by him, and your bodies slamming against the lockers.

And that’s when you understood the difference between making love and banging, or, in this case, fucking. 

Yup, what you’d been doing every night was making love. But this… 

This was Steve fucking you. And fucking you hard.

The pace was brutal, pounding with relentless intensity. He held your leg and gripped your ass to keep you in position. With one hand on your neck, forcing eye contact, he fucked you harder and harder.

His voice was hoarse and raw, groaning with lust. When he saw you bite your lip to stay quiet, he smiled and quickened his pace.

“I’ve wanted to do this since you kissed me in the nightclub…” He said, his body slamming into yours, locking you against the lockers.

“Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd…” With those images in mind, he murmured in your ear, his thrusts becoming stronger, admiring how waves of pleasure overtook you, making you pressed your leg tighter to his waist, your breath coming in silent gasps, pleading for more.

“Steve…” You could barely whisper. You couldn’t catch your breath as he pounded into you, shaking your body with the force of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his back, trying to hold back your voice, biting your lower lip so the moans wouldn’t escape. You didn’t even know if he had locked the door—someone could walk in at any moment.

But he was so hard, his pace so fast and relentless, completely out of control.

Steve never came before you did. He always made sure you were satisfied first. But this time, he cums when you finally gave in and moaned his name, his release hot and thick inside you.

Before you could even process it, he pulled out and turned you around.

Your breasts hit the lockers as his hands gripped your waist. He positioned you, and just when you were about to inhale, he was inside you again.

Fuck! This felt so good…! Steve never felt this urge, never wanted this so bad, his eyes darkening with further lust and desire, his hands pressing your waist and squeezing your bouncing ass cheek as he sees how he thrusts inside out of you. 

You are so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect for his cock, as you were tailored made for him. He was probably hard since you commanded him in the car, with that badass attitude and fierce determination, and now you were leaning there, with your elbows against the locker, your tits bouncing as he strokes, your ass cheeks marked as he squeezes and rubs them, and your folds still dripping remains of his last cum. Totally at his mercy. 

Fuck, this is hot.

He was going wild. Seeing you trying to mute what at home would be the sweetest or wildest moan, only spur him on, driving him to fuck you with greater velocity, snapping forward with greater intensity. 

“Let go, babe…” He said, snapping his hips forward. Each thrust hit that perfect spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through both of your bodies. “Let it go… Cum for me honey… Come on… I know you’re about to…”

He leaned forward, grabbed your face, and kissed you fiercely, his tongue claiming yours. His hand found your breasts, tweaking and tugging at your nipples until they stiffened, begging for attention.

“Fuck, baby… You feel so good…” His voice was a ragged, hot breath near your ear. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast circles as he continued to fuck you. 

Your moans were loader, and your clit was so sensitive, it couldn’t take more contact, Steve’s thumbs rubbed faster and stronger, and as he continues to fuck you in your spot, when he feels your walls about to clamp, he just whispers in a determined tone in your ear. “Cum, now.”

It was like he had a switch that controlled your body. Your inner walls clenched at his command, and you gave in, cumming long and hard around his cock, your body trembling. All you were making was lust sounds, mumbling his name, trying to breathe and to recover to the ecstasy that went from your clit to your mind. 

“That’s it, my love…” He smiled with satisfaction, hissing through clenched teeth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you into another fervent kiss.

When his lips sealed yours, the thrusts became faster and rougher, uncontrollable moans escaping as his hands roamed over your breasts. His movements were frenetic, chasing his own orgasm.

You moved with him, drunk on lust, oblivious to everything else. You felt his hands squeezing harder, his gasps becoming heavier, his cock growing bigger and stronger. Finally, he buried himself inside you, erupting and flooding your depths with a hot load of cum. His hips jerked involuntarily as the last drops spilled inside you, and he was finally satisfied.

“Oh…god… fuck, babe…” He had one hand still rubbing your tits, another pressing your clit and feeling his cum overload your folds, and his body resting in yours, covered with sweat, gear at his feet, when the extreme edge washed over him. “That…was…amazing.”

"Steve..." You panted as he pulled out and turned you around, instantly leaning into him. "I need to sit..." Your knees were weak, and your thighs hurt a little, but in a good way, a very good way.

He let out a soft laugh. "I’m so sorry..." He kissed your forehead as he lifted you onto the bench and covered you with his shirt. "Did I hurt you? Oh..." He winced at the marks on your waist and thighs, nearly bruised from his hands.

"Shit, babe... I’m sorry I got carried away." His voice softened, apologetic. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a kiss on your wrists, where he had also been holding on so tight. "Fuck... I’m sorry."

"No." You grinned and kissed him back. "It was amazing..." You leaned toward him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "I loved it. We should have more missions like this."

"As much as I’d love to..." He smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, holding you close. "I hate the danger around you. But hey..." He hesitated for a moment. "About what I said earlier..."

"'Cum, now'?" You imitated his voice, and he let out a loud laugh.

"No, earlier..."

"Mmm..." You recalled your eidetic memory. "'Keeping you like this in a dark corner, making love to you in the middle of the crowd'?"

Your eyes brightened. "You wanna go back to the nightclub so we can make out?"

Steve actually considered it for a second. "We’ll talk about that later... but no, I meant what I said in the car before the Iron Army attacked us like Ultron’s possessed children."

"Yeah..." You didn’t remember. Well, no, you weren’t listening. "I was distracted by the giant bomb headed toward us, babe... I’m sorry I didn’t hear."

He leaned back, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Okay, what I was saying..." Now he was looking right at you. He cupped your face, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. "I think it’s just been proven how deeply, madly, utterly in love I am with you. I don’t have eyes for anyone else..."

"Ohhh!" Now you connected the dots. "So we’re talking about my insecurities because you hung out with your gorgeous ex-girlfriend all day?"

"She’s not..." Steve sighed, then softened his voice. "Well, there. There’s nothing for you to be insecure about. I love you. Only you. And I think I’ve proven my desire to be with you forever with the ring..."

"What?" Now you were shocked. "Wait, what?" You sat up straight. "Was the ring really... really... a ring?"

"Of course it is. What else would it be?"

"Um... you said it was a tracking device."

"It is." Steve sighed. "But eventually, when all this is over, it will be just a ring that means: you’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever." He smiles at your incredulous face, and holds you in his embrace, placing a kiss on your forehead: "In this life, and all the lifetimes to come. I want only you."

You stared at him, speechless, feeling the warmth of his arms around you and the weight of his words settling in. His gaze was so full of love, it made your heart race. For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, but then you leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

"Steve..." You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything." He replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Just... stay with me. That’s all I need."

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "Yes." You kissed him back. "Now. Always. Forever."

"Okay, now that we’re good..." He lifted you up in his arms. "C’mon princess, let’s take a bath, we are a mess here."

Oh. You raised your eyebrows. You don’t know who he’s kidding; you both know how this was going to end.

The End but TBD :)

Continue to:

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Divider Credits: to the wonderful @cafekitsune

And that's a wrap for chapter 8! Wohoo, I'm so glad I've made it to write a complete smut!! xD I really suck at writing it in english :D So with so many wonderful writers out there, thank you for reading up to here, hope you enjoyed it :D And thanks everyone for participating in the poll last post xD Can't believe fluff won, come on some angst and then a fluff and happy ending won't hurt, right? xD

I'll see you next friday for chapter 9! Wow 9 chapters!! <3

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[hattersrabbit]

Hold up because yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader was so GOOD can we have a pt 2 please

(I'll actually go on knees for pt 2 but ofc if you don't want to make one that's up to you!)

BYE BYE, BABY BLUE

yandere avengers x kryptonian reader | sfw

CW! male reader, denial of reality, possessive behavior, blame of self, batman/Bruce wayne exists in this universe, jealous avengers, superbat (kinda, Bruce x Reader, more platonic tho),attempted murder

Summary! You've grown tired, and you've kept excusing that nothing is wrong with your team mates. It only gets worse when you meet someone who tells you what actually is going on

previous | next | series

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

It been so long since you've had time to yourself. Asking Peter to go back to New York until something actually important happens you would call him.

Thankfully the younger man was a lot more convincable than the others. Wanda and Tony he thinks most importantly weren't that convincable.

Just for now; you were alone with Kyrpto who refused to move away from you.

You would never let him be away from you. You two may be aliens but you had feelings and the tension with your team mates was horrible.

Suffocating.

As if you were something helpless. Too naive but you noticed it all but didn't know why. Why was this happening to you.

At least until he walked into your life. A man with black hair and the most piercing of blue eyes. A man named Bruce Wayne with his son, Dick Grayson.

Whilst dealing with the avengers any time you got time alone you would talk to Bruce. The man had come to own your place of employment. Any time he visited which was rare but when he did you two would always talk a storm.

So close that he figured out your identity, and you figured out the fact he was Batman. A cryptid and the Robin by his side. To his word; you were the only one he told.

Best of friends and the finest. You had started getting traction in Gotham and helping Batman and Robin. A token meta in the world of Gotham.

Gotham wasn't known for safety, and word travels fast.

And one time it got bad.

Tony was fussing over you being in Gotham. He felt irratible about the fact you were conversing with this Batman. He was begging you to stay with him at the tower with Pepper.

Steve was yelling at him.

Bucky was standing too close to you. Him and Steve seeming to hold some connection of what to do.

With you.

You didn't like it, and while it hurt you to do so your pushed the men off of you. Without a word you flew off frantically. With your super hearing you could hear Tony getting his suit on, and the calling of Thor and Wanda.

It was futile to make you stop. You pleaded for them all to stop but they never did. All in the place of love, and making sure you were okay. You were new to this, but they were wrong.

Lex Luthor was dead. You came to know that when Tony Stark took control of his company. It was alarming, and suddenly kryptonite disappeared.

You didn't understand why this was happening. It wasn't hard to see how Wanda's murderous aura became big when you would ask about Lex Luthor.

Peter would seeth out a response.

You confronted them. Steve was quick to deny it. To deny the too close of touch that he and Bucky tried to force onto you. The overall fact that you were stuck in a invisible cage.

Clint and Natasha seemingly trying to hide the bloodlust they had when another assailant came to have Kyrptonite. In horror watching how they became something worse.

Thor's hammer, just as it did for Thanos, blood was shed. You were in horror as the hammer crushed the green crystal.

No you couldn't stand Banner's excessive mother henning. No Tony, you can't take my blood and make my suit even bulkier. You could stand it anymore.

Suffocating.

The breeze rushing past feeling dark. Thor and Wanda most definitely on your tail.

You tucked your fear all the way back into your stomach. Your mind flashed with images of Bruce's face. That kind man always knowing what to say despite his reputation of being a playboy.

You could feel tears falling down your face as you sped off to Gotham; Bruce's home of address.

"B! It's [ ]!" Dick would shout from seeing you land on the balcony. True to Gotham weather it was raining. Your own tears mixing in with the rain.

And then Bruce was there.

The balcony doors opened and you found your way into Bruce's arms, careful not to break his mortal body. "I know you said no metas but I just-" You cried to him.

The normally stoic Bruce that you came to know comforted you better than anyone of the avengers. Even the likes of Peter who was above all sweet, but it wasn't Bruce.

"What happened?" He would ask you while holding you. His butler, Alfred and Dick watching with worried eyes.

"The avengers...I don't know why but they've just gotten so...overbearing..."

You were naive, sure, but you you knew better. You were sheltered but you knew off behavior. The same kind of eyes staring from your town. The weird farm boy that people didn't know when he got there.

For good reason your new parents protected you from the world. Afraid that everyone in that damn town would hurt you despite your strength and powers.

You shivered remembering Tony's stare at you. The way his voice went up at the notion of you in Gotham, and working with the Batman.

Pictures of you and Bruce at your place of work.

It hadn't been long since you revealed your identity and that you were exactly human.

Thinking your naive nature and thinking you don't know that Bruce was a playboy, when he wasn't. Coming to know the man he did it to mask the pain of his tragedy.

Recently he stopped do so, but still kept up his flirty personality.

"Words and actions. Always angry that I'm alone without them, or with you or in Gotham. As if I'm not a fucking hero! As if I'm not an alien with strength above them!"

Your chest hurt as you relayed all the repressed feelings you felt in your chest. Krypto who had yet to leave your side rubbed up against you. You barely noticed the contact.

Bruce simply rubbed circles into your back. Alfred and Dick came back with cookies and tea for you all.

Your eyes always flickering to the windows. Scared to see Wanda's flickering red eyes and misty powers. Her ability to mess with your brain. Despite all of Bruce's help in strengthening your mind she would always penetrate it.

Sometimes you felt like things were missing from your memory. Or you seem to black out and suddenly in your room.

"You're something better than what they are. Better than me."

"Bruce-"

"They want to keep that pureness. Goodness is what they want, and they aren't good. The avengers have done things and have gone to the dark side. The scarlet witch is one big one."

You shivered at the mention of her name.

"Oh, [ ]. She's scaring you." Dick whispered. He brought a cookie to your lips slowly. You smiled seeing the boy try to cheer you up.

"Miss Maximoff is quite the danger isn't she? She's messed with your head?" Alfred inquired.

"Yes, I believe so." You gripped your hair. They were pulled off by Dick.

"No doubt a planned to keep you under wraps. Always one of them keeping an eye on you ever since kryptonite came to the public eye." Bruce responded. His sharp eyes on the window.

"Do you think you were followed?"

"Yes. They'll find me. I- I don't want them to find me!" You collapsed into yourself. Dick's small body hugging you tightly.

"Robin will protect you! Both Batman and Robin!" That boyish smile and hopeful expression. Once you had that outlook but since then it's broken down. You couldn't find a reason to smile when you were being smothered.

"Remember your stronger than them, and i can craft something to stop the mind control."

"Master Bruce."

"Yes, you can always leave and...joina group we've been trying to get together since the recent events with the avengers and you. I noticed it but I wished for you come to me, which you did." He brushed hair away from your tear stricken face.

"Maybe if I hadn't left then maybe Lex Luthor may not have..."

"I see." Bruce's voice deepened at the notion of death.

"It's not your fault, [ ]. You're something want to preserve. To believe that they are truly good. This new team; the Justice League would never treat you like that. I promise. People who love you would never do this." He held you to his body. Dick clinging hard to you.

Alfred had left to retrieve his shotgun.

"They don't care for your wants, [ ]. Otherwise, they'd understand you can take care of yourself. You're a hero not some child. They know you aren't, but anything bad to happen that would taint you it must be stopped."

"If I hadn't crashed-"

"If you hadn't crashed here then Metropolis would certainly be worse. You gave this world hope better than anyone!" Dick insisted. His hands cupping your face.

"Dick is right. What you've felt and seen is the truth. Don't let them continue." A rare smile crossed Bruce's face.

You noted how Dick visibly brightened at it.

"Quit them, and join our group; Diana would be overjoyed to have you with us again. Dick would be happy to see you more."

"Yeah! Those avengers of yours are really icky and scary." Dick giggled, and fake gagged after finishing his words.

Bruce chuckled. You're heart warming after digesting after all you've heard. The reality finally realized that what was happening wasn't good. They were smothering you like some baby when you were.

A human being that was bound to become hardened but that was the life of a hero.

"Okay. You promise to to not be like them." You pleaded.

"Of course, and if they find you right now me and Dick will defeat them. Alfred will be there with the shotgun too." He smiled bigger.

"For you!" Dick raised his hands. Sharp eyes on the window. Bruce's own eyes at the window with that Batman glare.

You heard her, but the loud gunshot stopped time. Unexpected, even for her.

This time you and Bruce couldn't find the care to stop the butler. Dick continued to hug you as Bruce stood up.

Already a message sent out for the rest of an upcoming league. The monster in the window down below with a shot to her stomach.

You felt at peace for now.

Even if you could hear all of their heartbeats.

Even the witch's heart was still beating.

[sarahowritesostucky]

Ignore it if you're uncomfortable💕

Reader catching Steve eating um... "meat" or put suspicion on foods he cook cuz it's a little different from usual meat😔

Idk choose one or maybe both or maybe none

ANYTHING FOR STEVE KAMP I'M EVAPORATING RN

This will be a story told in infrequent, anachronistic snippets, as I love the story idea but don't really want to commit to another WIP. I hope you enjoy!

📖"Amuse Bouche"

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Reader

Tags: cannibalism, held hostage, basement wife, captor/captive, dark Steve

Summary: Amuse-Bouche (/əˌmuːzˈbuːʃ/; French; N.) : to delight the mouth.

You feel your ears buzzing as you sit across the island, frozen in place. The soft sounds of Steve's knife against the cutting board drumming in your ears inordinately loud, warring with the drum of your own thundering pulse. You lick your lips nervously, biting your tongue to keep from saying anything.

"Everything okay, Hon?"

You blink, startled out of your thoughts and surprised to find Steve staring at you from where he's working, his eyes boring into you, rather than the raw meat under his hand, the chef's knife in the other. Your heart pounds hard in your chest, and you're sure he can hear it, can tell exactly what you're thinking.

What are you thinking?

"Y-yeah," you stammer, forcing a smile. Oh god, he can tell. He knows what you're -

"Good." His smile is sweet and honest, unsuspecting, and he goes back to his work on the cutting board. You swallow, your mouth horribly dry. "Just hungry, huh?" Steve smirks down at his bloodied hands. "Really worked up an appetite this afternoon."

You chuckle nervously, shifting in place on the barstool. "Haha, yep. Yeah."

"Mm. Well I know how to fix that," he says. Eyes still on the meat.

You look down nervously to it again, and away again before he can catch you looking and see the thoughts going through your head. You avert your gaze around the kitchen. - the beautiful kitchen.

It'd seemed like such an easy mark. Middle of nowhere, no visible security. Single occupant who went away for hours at a time. It'd been easy to case. You'd thought you'd make out good on this one. Just one more job. A little more money to get you in a good spot. Then you'd go straight.

It hadn't worked out that way.

The links on your cuff make a quiet sound as you shift. You reach for your wine glass and take a big sip. It slides over your tongue in a burst of flavors: fruity and lush, decadent yet light. It's red wine, a Beaujolais, your favorite. Steve always pours it for you before dinner, and you always drink it as you watch him cook.

Lately you've been drinking it faster.

Your eyes are back on the bloody cutting board when Steve's amused voice jars you back to attention,

"Need another pour already?"

Your eyes jerk up to him in fright, and it must show on your face, because he sobers. "Hon? What is it?"

You fake another smile - something you've gotten quite good at, ever since you woke up one day in a carpeted cell. "Nothing," you assure him, batting your eyelashes and drinking the last few sips from your glass. You set it back down on the counter. "I think I would like some more, please."

Steve squints at you briefly, concerned, or maybe suspicious, but your smile seems to do the trick and he sighs good naturedly. "Okay, why not?" He sets the knife down on the cutting board and turns his back to you, going to the sink to rinse his hands. "I'm chilling a white for the main, and I thought we could have that honey wine with dessert."

"Oh." You can't keep your eyes off the cutting board - on the carefully trimmed hunks of meat that don't taste like anything you've ever had before ... and on the knife. "That sounds nice."

Steve chuckles. "My little woman loves her dessert wines."

You could reach it. It's within reach. If you just leant across the counter, you'd be able to -

Steve 's hand appears in your field of vision and you flinch. He's reaching to take your empty glass. He eyes you knowingly as he pours from the bottle of Beaujolais. You expect him to say something, but he just finishes pouring and slides the glass back across the countertop to you. "There you go," he says, staring at you.

You lick your lips and swallow heavily, feeling caught. He knows. "Thank you, Steve," you whisper.

The edge of his mouth twitches up. "You're welcome, Little thief."

Your guts churn at the words he's somehow turned into a term of endearment. Steve's no fool. He knew you'd look. He put the knife within reach to test you, and you've failed the test. Internally you sigh, and you meekly sip your wine. You've got a long time to go before you'll be able to get the better of him.

"What's for dinner?" you ask, resigned, eyes back on the mystery meat.

"Rosemary."

"What?" You look up at him, catching the tail end of something indecipherable in his eyes. "Rosemary?" you ask, heart beating faster.

"Mm." He nods and goes to pull something out of the fridge. He returns with a bundle of green herbs. Your shoulders slump. Oh. rosemary. Right. "I'm cooking it sous vide with herbs," he says, and starts plucking the needles off the stalk. "Rosemary, Thyme, bit of sage."

You nod vacantly, thinking of the Francisco Goya that Steve has hanging in the hallway: Saturn Devouring His Son. You used to appreciate his quirky taste in art, had planned to get rich off it. But now you're starting to suspect there's something else to it.

Still, you know it'll infuriate Steve if you refuse to eat the food he's prepared for you, so you focus on sipping your wine steadily, hoping to maybe get another pour in before the meal.

You don't ask what it is that he's cooking sous vide. But deep down, you think you know.

This has been a fill for: @badthingshappenbingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky / sarahyellow

Square O4: Kidnapping

Masterlist

[myinconnelly1]

Hard at Work - The Interview

Summary: Katie Thompson is good at solving problems, so naturally when an offer for a work study at Stark Tower arrives, she signs up. Will her Omega designation help or hinder the training of the new superheroes.

Word Count: 812

Masterlist

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, heat mentioned

Katie shouldn’t feel this hot.  She knew that heats got worse as you got older, but she had only had two others in her life.  Hell, she wasn’t even old enough to drink her problems.  She huffed as she let her hands run over her breasts slowly, in the way that she wanted to be touched but hadn’t.

In the silence of the library, she let her eyes drift closed.  She had let the air conditioning invite her into the forest of fantasies, away from the humid heat of the late evening.  The whole building would be empty at this time of night, and she should have been in her room for sleep but the need to move had brought her out sneaking around the campus.  She only hoped that wasn’t caught by any of the Avenger’s.  She didn’t want to be kicked out of her work study. 

A sigh left her parted lips as she touched herself slowly letting her feeling build as the heat started to take over her senses.  She thought about the alpha she wished was touching her right now.  How soft his hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it.  She wondered how he would sound as he touched her and felt her. 

3 Weeks earlier

“Ms. Thompson?  The boss will see you now.”  Katie startled as she heard the sultry tone of the AI in Stark tower.  “Just go through the second door.”  It was impressive to her that Tony Stark had managed to program a computer with the idiosyncrasies of an accent.

“Thanks,” Katie said nervously, then went through the indicated door.  “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark”

“Katherine Thompson, Boss,” Friday introduced her to the superhero fidgeting with a design.

“Thanks, Friday.  I kinda hate small talk, so let’s cut right to it.  I saw from the questionnaire that you filled out you’re fairly new to your designation, and that your teachers mostly give you good grades.  How do you feel about cameras?”  Tony just jumped into his questions with no time for Katie to prepare for the abruptness of his questions.

“Well, I flunked Drama class in high school and never went back,” She laughed nervously.  “But in general, I don’t have a problem with them.”

“Good, I have them all over the campus.  Is there any special reason I should bring you on board for this work study?”  He asked.  Tony still hadn’t looked at her he was working some kind of 3D puzzle design.  Katie hated that question in interviews though.  She was smart enough to get by but some of her decisions got her in trouble.  And no matter how hard she tried she hadn’t learned from those mistakes.

She walked up to Tony’s right-hand side and flicked four pieces into place in quick succession.  The rest of the design fell into place as the computer finished the logical conclusion to what she had set in motion, and Tony quirked his head to the side as he took in both the design and the young woman that was standing next to him.

“I’m pretty good at puzzles,” Katie offered with a useless shrug.  “What is it that you are trying to get out of this work study?”

“My goal is to get a new team prepared ready for fighting for the world.”   He said as he put the design away and took his seat, motioning for her to sit as well.

“Why do you need Betas and Omegas?  Aren’t all superheroes Alphas?”  Katie asked, realizing for the first time since being in the room that Tony’s scent wasn’t all that strong or offensive.  Sure, he lived here so it smelled of him, but it wasn’t overpowering like most Alphas.

“No there are some that are Beta’s, but it’s a fair question.  A lot of our Superhero’s struggle with their image of being impulsive and rough.  It’s not really their fault, a lot of the “powers” they have are hampered when suppressants are introduced.”  Tony’s shrugged as if everything was simple.

“So, this is like a chance for prospective superheroes to learn how to live in society?”  Katie was obviously skeptical.

“Actually, you’re not far from the goal.  Think of this work study as school on how to behave and get some training for both to be superheroes as well other extraordinary people.”  Tony stood up extending his hand.  “You are the first person I have interviewed that figured out what were trying to do here without being told.  I think you are the right kind of person for us.”

Katie shook his hand, slightly stunned.

“If you are inclined to accept my offer, just bring your things here to stark tower.  We will get you set up in your dormitory.  Food and lodging will be provided for you as long as you chose to stay.  Classes start Monday,” Tony joked.

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Are there Avengers or Hell's Kitchen People that you would like to see in this fic? It's been so long since I've written anything!

[eccentricallygothic]

pt ii after i complete the steve piece i am currently working on

|| Take Me To Church ||

Pairing: Skinny Choirboy!Steve Rogers | Dark!Reader.

Description: You're the giggle at a funeral; everybody's disapproval, and yet, all Steve wants to do is to give you his life. 

Disclaimer: This is a dark AU. It will contain dark and mature content. Browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): None in this chapter. But they will contain noncon/dubcon and the like. Reader intimidates Steve but that is what he subconsciously likes so much. 

Note: No physical descriptors will be used for the reader but she has a gothic fashion style because of the plot. I humbly request your feedback as it motivates me. And I appreciate reblogs because they help circulate my work, thank you!

MASTERLIST

I

Mass was almost over. And as Steve watched the preacher with a content and almost proud smile -for the man at the dais was no other than his own paternal uncle, the whispered chatter that was followed by the brief opening of the church doors made him turn his golden head in the direction of the ‘suppressed’ commotion. 

The minute Steve's eyes found the source of the little disturbance, his blue eyes narrowed at the scene that Mrs. Y/L/N did her best to cover up with a much too enthusiastic smile coupled with the directing of a laser beam hyperfocus upon his uncle the minute she sat back down in her seat. When the brooding figure next to her did not budge and continued to loom over her in the same spot it had been dragged inside to stand in, the woman roughly pulled it down beside her without averting her gaze. 

And just like that, regardless of how obscene you looked in your smeared violet lipstick that your mother had tried to wipe off before hauling you back into mass when she realized you had snuck off while she was busy making small talk with your neighbors, Steve's heart fluttered. Oblivious to his tender gaze watching you in the most profoundly wholesome way one could muster, -as he had liked you his whole life but to think immorally of you without the sanctity of marriage safeguarding your dignity and consent was a sin he could never even imagine to commit- you curled your lip in disdain and pretended as though you were very happy to be there. The jab of your mother's elbow that had caused you to do so both made Steve snort before he caught himself in time and worry if the older woman had hurt you too badly. 

Heat began to creep up his ears and cheeks and Steve knew it was his cue to look away. He didn't want to, but he had to. You were too dangerous and he was too vulnerable to you. Immoral thoughts always began to cloud and pollute his mind if he stared at you for too long. And that, he could not have. Both for your sake and his own. 

A labored sigh of longing left his pink mouth as he quickly averted his eyes when he caught himself staring at you again. You were picking at your fingers now. He could literally visualize you counting the seconds before you could leave. Steve's stomach did that thing where his affection for you made him want to pull at your cheeks to express the adoration that he felt for you. 

Preferably after he cleaned off some of your… fashionable makeup choices, of course.

. . .

“Dude, you're really serious about the Y/L/N psycho from up the road, aren't you?” Steve frowned at his best friend's back whilst the taller, broader and healthier boy crouched in front of his Harley Davidson.

“Buck,” Steve sighed in frustration. All he had wanted to talk about was how cute you looked with the messy remnants of your lipstick in the most respectful way he could. But Bucky just had to be like this. “I told you not to call her that” his eyes watched his friend's muscles flex under the thin material of his tank top and though the golden haired boy knew that envy was one of the seven deadly sins, he couldn't help but wonder if he would be more noticeable to you if his physique bore more likeness to his friend's. “You know what Father Jameson says…”

The scoff Bucky let out at that ended in a laugh as his long fingers spread over the rim strokes that he was taking his time cleaning with much care. “Yeah, right” Steve sighed again as he leaned against the brick wall behind him, crossing his humble arms over his small chest. “Fix the creepy satanist by turning the other cheek, because that would work out so well” Bucky was not as enthusiastic about religion as his best friend, but he was not on the heresy spectrum either. 

“Dude,” Steve found the town rumour about you being a satanist both outlandish and absolutely ridiculous. “That is a stretch and you know it” but he could not help but mutter afterwards, mostly to himself. “Besides, no one is beyond saving or redemption.” 

. . . 

The little bell at the top of the coffee shop entrance dinged another arrival in but Steve, who was busy taking a rather complex order, didn't look up. He had worked after school part-time long enough at this place to both get used to and grow almost ignorant of the signal during busy hours. 

But when the line moved to the point where a similar scent and shadowy figure appeared at the horizons of his senses, Steve's busy hand froze and his much practiced, nearly mechanical greeting died on his tongue at the rather shocking sight that welcomed him. 

“Y/n~!” You looked up from your phone out of concern for how breathless the cashier sounded. “W- What… what can I… I…” You narrowed your eyes from under the dark brown hood that was pulled over your head, wondering if the blonde boy at the other side of the counter was having some kind of a fit. “I…” It was not that you cared whether the little dude died or whatever, but rather you preferred he did so after taking your order so you could be on your way. 

“Coffee, black” and so you hurriedly uttered out your order in a near panic. The boy seemed like he didn't understand you at first. As if you were speaking a language alien to his very red ears. But then he did a weird double take and nodded quickly before looking down and punching your order in the machine with such force that it appeared as though he was trying to crush the buttons with his skinny little fingers. 

You raised an eyebrow, not out of concern but more at the comical absurdity of this queer little boy that you felt like you had seen somewhere before but could not pinpoint where. You dug inside the pockets of your black skinny jeans and took the money out to pay because you knew the rate and he was malfunctioning way too much for your patience.  

“That’ll be—” you slid the exact amount on the counter before he could finish his sentence. “Oh, thank you…” You rolled your eyes to yourself. It was bad enough that your usual cafe was closed today and now you had to deal with an overly nice, glitching twink. “N- Nice day out… huh?” 

The way your eyes moved from your phone to his face and then down to his nametag caused the thick black false eyelashes you wore over the smoky eyeshadow to move rather dramatically. 

Steve decided he liked it.

“Uh…?” You squinted as you made out his name from under the frilly church badge that he wore in honor of something you couldn't care less about. “... Steve…?

“Yes!?!” Steve's bright blue eyes were wide as he gripped the edge of the counter as if he was on the verge of exploding. “Something you wanted?!”

You leaned in, tilting your phone to the side to look at him properly. “The receipt…” His flashing blush was so deep in shade that it seemed for a second as though the heat would start to steam out of his ears next. 

“R- Right, right!” Steve's voice was embarrassingly loud as he snatched the token-bill out of the machine before holding it out to you with too much force than he intended, not that it was much coming from someone like him. 

You just gave him a weirded out look before accepting the paper by pinching at one of its edges and taking it from him and moving out of the way. You were not sure if Steve noticed it or not, but the people behind you were groaning out of frustration because of his little display that had made you hold the line up for way longer than was needed. You rolled your eyes again, both at him and the people. 

What an inconvenience.

But Steve's mind was way too occupied with something else to notice the unhappy customers. As he tried to go back to his work with no awareness of how the elderly lady in front of him frowned at him, he felt his heart leap up from how you paused and half-turned. He could not decide why you tilted your head the way one did when they were considering something the person next to them was saying. Because there was no such person with you. You slowly further craned your neck to look behind you before your eyes found him again. You narrowed your dark eyes on him as if… perhaps… you could hear someone saying something about him. There was literally no one there but Steve subconsciously focused on you, unsure of what outcome he expected to achieve by doing so. 

But the shrill voice of Mrs. Jackson nearly gave him a heart attack as it brought him out of his little bubble and he blinked to recalibrate before shaking his head at the absurdity of his thoughts and then willing his hands to return to their work. 

. . .

“Ma…” Steve muttered under his breath as he closed his eyes in frustration, sighing into his orange juice. “It was one time” he put emphasis on the quantitative adjective before crossly shooting his best friend a sharp look. 

Bucky was not bothered in the least as he scarfed down Mrs. Rogers' morn cooking with full satisfaction after ratting her son out to him. 

“It's not about that!” She put both his and Bucky's lunches -who was basically her unofficial son and Steve's unproclaimed sibling at this point- with a force not violent or traumatizing on their still young minds but harsh enough to add effect to her words. “It's about you not even mentioning it to me!”

“Mom…” Steve's ears were red. “You're embarrassing me…” He felt like kicking his friend's happy form.

“I am embarrassing you?! Me?!” Bucky chuckled in a manner aimed at further encouraging his mother before shaking his head at his best friend. “You're the one keeping secrets from me!” 

“You tell him, Sarah!” Bucky smirked when Steve glared at him. As if adding fuel to the fire wasn't enough, he was calling the woman by her name. Mrs. Rogers didn't mind because it made her feel young but her son didn't like it when his best friend did it with that cocky playboy expression of his. 

Steve knew Bucky too well. 

And the plethora of information was a rather mortifying one. 

“Dramatic much?” Steve chose to say instead, shaking his head at the both of them.

“Steven!” And he stood up at that, swiping his mini-package from the table as he did so. 

“Ma, it was one time and only because her usual coffee shop was closed. She usually doesn't come by the place at all…” As he stuffed his lunch in his bag before zipping it, he added for good measure, “I promise.” 

“Notice how he knows that?” Bucky swung his bag over his shoulder after doing the same thing and laughing as he ran by Steve to avoid being hit.

“Mom—” the golden haired boy began after glaring at the way his best friend had left but the older woman cut him off.

“Just… be careful and stay away from that girl, okay?” Mrs. Rogers took his soft face in her hands and looked into his eyes. Steve's heart melted from the affectionate gesture right away and all ire transformed into guilt for feeling annoyed simply because his mother was looking out for him. “Because Mrs. Johnson told me the most horrific thing! Her younger daughter goes to school with her and—” Mrs. Rogers treated you like you were one-who-must-not-be-named and whilst it was funny to an extent, it never failed to drag Steve's spirit down. “She told Mrs. Johnson that that devilish girl said the most heretical—”

“I will, mom. Don't worry. Gotta run now, bye” Steve did not like it when anyone spoke ill of you or mistreated you. Even if the person was his own dear mother. “I love you!” The short boy rushed out. 

Only, he was met with a very angry Bucky who was cussing out an anonymous offender because the tires of his motorbike that the brunette had parked in front of Steve's house had been very intentionally slashed while he was inside. Usually, the two friends rode to school together even though it wasn't considered very cool by their peers but they didn't care. The blonde bent to pick up the brunette's backpack that he had angrily hurled on the pavement before beginning to push his vehicle down the road and to the nearest garage without another word. Steve sighed as he jogged back up to his front door since Bucky lived in the opposite direction of school and the golden haired boy was already short on time. So he dropped Bucky's bag on his mother's rocking chair that was adjacent to the door before beginning his hopefully short walk. 

Although Bucky was popular both around the neighborhood and at school, the same could not be said about Steve despite his good grades. So as he made his way down the sidewalk, hands gripping the straps of his backpack with his head down and eyes mindlessly watching how his feet moved, he did not expect to hear his name being called until the class attendance. Consequently, he missed the whistle that prompted his attention. 

When he did not pick up on it and walked on, the person grunted before speaking up. “Hey, you!” He still didn't stop or raise his blonde head, so the husky voice hailed again. “Rogers!” He froze. 

Was he hearing correctly?

No…

This couldn't be…

“What, you deaf too?” Steve's eyes widened and his head whipped to seek you out, too shocked to notice your jab at his physical ailments. The bright blue of his orbs excitedly twinkled in reaction to his rising adrenaline. 

“Y- Y/n…” He breathed out when he found you at last, turning in your direction to look at you properly. 

“So he hears! Praise the Lord!” You sarcastically teased from where you were leaning against the narrow alley wall next to the local grocers. 

Steve flushed, both shocked and mildly offended. He had never seen you speak to or approach anyone before let alone him. Especially after the scene he had made during your last meeting. 

He raked his mind for words but none came to him. All he could do was blink at you with his pretty pink lips agape, cheekbones red. 

“They're playing A Nightmare on Elm Street at the local theater tonight…” You tilted your head to the side with a ‘friendly’ smile, waiting for him to catch on.

Steve vigorously nodded like an eager little puppy, shooting you a big smile like you had just imparted some great universal truth upon him. You raised an eyebrow at him as you tapped your crossed arm with your index finger, feeling your lips break into an amused smirk at how he malfunctioned. 

His eyebrows eventually furrowed when he slowly realized your expression and let his mind replay what you had said. 

“H- Huh?!” Was all he could let out once he did so. “Uh… okay…?”

Of course. You thought to yourself before sighing and rolling your eyes. 

“The cashier didn't have change so he ended up giving me two tickets” you dangled them between your fingers after fishing them out of your jeans, the hood you wore on your head casting a shadow over your dark makeup. “And who would be better company than the nice barista who lives down the street, right?”

Steve's throat felt as though a hundred thorns had coiled around it. “N- Not a… barista…” He did not have to, but he felt the need to do so for the sake of being honest with much difficulty, blushing up a storm. “Just… the cashier…” You snorted as you let your shoulders push you off the wall. “A- And down the road… not s- street…”

You gave him a considering nod. “Tomato, to-mah-to” now you walked closer to him, unknowingly pulling the very air from his lungs as a result. “7pm, sharp. Don't be late.” And you walked off with your characteristic coolness, not looking back and leaving Steve to his disbelief and eventual nervous breakdown due to the shocking turn of events. 

. . .

Everything Tag <3: @rosecentury

[stellar-solar-flare]

S T E V E R O G E R S

This list has all my Steve Rogers works, sorted by length (longfic, oneshot, drabble/headcanon). I have noted down which ones have an AU version of Steve - works with just 'Steve' are about the Avenger we know and love. All my work is for 18+ only but stories have ratings based on their specific content.

MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3

Beautiful star dividers by @steviebbboi, thank you.

L O N G F I C S:

A Fairytale Of A Disaster | Steve x Doctor!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been stood up by her Valentine's Date. Or has she? Romance, fluff, meet-cute, hurt/comfort. COMPLETE, 4/4.

Brilliant Steel (AO3) | Steve Rogers x OFC, platonic Bucky & OFC | Explicit

The AI Head Strategist, Captain Steve Rogers's world implodes as a wave of inexplicable, supernatural events washes over the globe. The problem: the brilliant mind that might be the key to solving all this belongs to a woman Steve once scorned, and she won’t be happy to find him standing at her doorstep. In an effort to save the world, Steve and Bucky team up with a woman that Steve once thought would be much more than a teammate. In a universe much more vast and stranger than anyone ever thought, they’ll have to learn to rely on each other — wits and gifts and weirdness and all — to keep said world on its rails. WIP - 5/x chapters published.

For Centuries (AO3)| emperor!Steve x Stark!princess!Reader | Explicit

As you, the only daughter of King Howard Stark, arrive at the court of Emperor Steven the Righteous to be wedded and crowned the Empress of the Centurial Empire, your husband-to-be is not what you expected. This is a 'From Political Marriage to Love Marriage' story, featuring lots of romantasy elements, court politics, and protective, righteous Emperor Steve Rogers. The slowest of burns. WIP - 19/x chapters published.

Equinox (AO3)| soft dark!mob boss!Steve x superpowered!Reader | Explicit

When you’re caught in the crossfires of a war brewing underground, Steve does what he has to. And as you get pulled deeper into his world, it may very well turn out that starlight can scorch, too. A dark romance story about a woman scorned and a man who is so much more than he seems. WIP, 10/x chapters published.

Volatile | Steve x scientist!Avenger!Reader | Explicit

Reader has been subjected to an aphrodisiac while on a mission. Steve and the medical team attempt to find a solution. Smut with feelings, eventual fluff, eventual happy ending. COMPLETE, 3/3.

O N E S H O T S:

Cinderella Magic | Steve Rogers x Reader | T+

The entire thing had been like something out of a movie, starting from how Steve – to you just Steve, one of the regulars at the bookshop you ran – had barged into the store yesterday and blurted out that he desperately needed a date. Fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers. 828 words.

Every Bit As Magical | Steve x Avenger!Reader | G

When the car stopped, and Steve went round to open the door for you and help you out, you were practically bursting with curiosity. Tumblr Prompt: "Steve Rogers + a day at Disneyland?" Fluff, romance, established relationship. 567 words.

Malogranatum | soft dark!Avenger!Steve Rogers x mob boss!Reader | Explicit

“You know there are lines I do not cross,” you said. Tumblr prompt: "Steve + Mob AU + ”Would you really do that for me?” + nefarious." Dark romance with themes of obsessive love. AU - canon divergence & mob themes. 2,417 words.

Warmth | Steve x chronically ill!Reader | Mature

Steve is the most caring husband and the best heating pad in the world. Even on the bad days when you don't feel easy to love. Hurt/comfort, established relationship, protective Steve Rogers. 1,771 words.

Worthy | Steve Rogers x Reader | Mature

You and Steve Rogers have been dating for a year. When a journalist is out to get you, you will have to stand together and come out stronger. Romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff & hurt/comfort, protective Steve Rogers. Reader has past trauma and unspecified mental health issues. 2,045 words.

H E A D C A N O N S & D R A B B L E S

kink headcanons for different versions of Steve | Explicit

fall-themed dates with Steve headcanons | Mature

getting ready for a Halloween Party with Steve | T+

coming home to Steve after a long day | G

tempting Steve at a Halloween Party | T+

a 3-sentence fic about Steve being a good dad | G

[ohtoseni]

like real people do

chapter one

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x OFC

read it on ao3

the government forces soulmates to be together, no matter what it takes.

it just so happens that eve's soulmates are two bisexual super soldiers.

or,

steve and bucky struggle with their eighteen-year-old soulmate who refuses to settle into her new life after being kidnapped by the government.

tags/warnings: soulmate mark au, forced throuple/poly relationship (f/m/m), extreme age gap, kidnapping, slow burn, dub con, mental health issues (ptsd, audhd, ocd, bipolar, ed), found family, emotional hurt/comfort, sensory overload and meltdowns, eventual smut, tooth-rotting fluff, power imbalance, domestic discipline (spanking as punishment), general teenage angst, daddy dom energy, oral fixation, praise kink, implied/referenced child abuse/csa, kink exploration, p in v sex, oral sex, non sexual age regression, lots of cuddles and snuggles and crying

Tick, tick, tick…

Eve stared blankly at the large vintage clock across the restaurant. It was a dumb impulse purchase by her boss, justified by the fact it vaguely fits the quasi-Italian feel of the restaurant. While the ticks and chimes weren’t as prominent during busy hours, the damned thing drove her nuts whenever it was just Eve closing up.

A glance out the front door revealed the same pouring rain from this afternoon, surely the sidewalks and streets were flooded by now. Groaning, Eve mentally cursed her boss for not letting her get off earlier as she rubbed her temples. The man religiously checked the security systems to ensure the doors were locked at exactly eleven o’clock, not a second earlier.

By now she synced up her nightly exit to the clock’s beat like a countdown. One, two, three ticks to get from the hostess station to the front door, and the loud chime indicating the new hour played the moment her keys entered the lock. It was normally a satisfying feeling when she wasn’t greeted by rain on the other side of the door. Thankfully, Eve only lived just down the road from the restaurant.

Power walking through the storm, she kept a tight hold on her sweatshirt to prevent the hood from flying off her head and to preserve what little body heat she had. Her legs were sore from a long shift, and she had to will them to carry her to her bed for the night. Cars flew down the street, with the occasional asshole splashing her with the water buildup on the street. As the rain kept pouring sideways, Eve gave up on keeping her glasses rain- and fog-free. Her apartment was a straight shot down the main road. Had it been clear out, she would’ve had eyes on the front door from the moment she left the restaurant.

The streetlights above her flickered, until they eventually gave out, shrouding her in darkness. Essentially walking blind, Eve didn’t even know where the sudden arm came from that grabbed and pulled her into the alley. A strong figure in black held Eve against his body, one arm easily wrapped around her torso to keep her arms down, and his calloused hand harshly gripping her mouth. The sudden pressure on her ribs made her gasp out the air in her lungs. She tried her hardest to scream and squirm out of his grip, but her attempts were futile against his strength. The rain only made her grip on the attacker slick. In an attempt to get him to let go, Eve knocked her head backward against his lower jaw, stunning him enough that he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Help! Help! I-“ Eve’s screams were easily muffled by the rain and thunder, but she tried your hardest to be heard by a potential passerby. A couple of screams left her mouth before a fist collided with the left side of her face. Pain radiated through her jaw like lightning before everything faded to black.

———

Everyone had a soulmate out there- a person made just for you. A small mark on your wrist slowly developed around puberty, uniquely yours and your soulmate’s. Young teenagers would compare marks with their crushes, desperately hoping it was a match. They would sit there and point out the smallest curve or dot that matched up, claiming that all the other differences were simply due to stretched skin or a bruise or cut. Eve wasn’t sure if they tried to make it work because they liked each other, or to avoid being put on the draft.

If by the age of eighteen, you hadn’t found your soulmate, you would be placed into a database full of other unmatched individuals. Young people nicknamed it ‘the draft’ due to how frequently the government stalked the website. Stories of people going missing after being put on the draft drifted around school campuses and online communities, not believing the kidnappings were just to unite far-away soulmates. A news headline or two would highlight missing young adults for a day before being expunged from the media.

For years Eve watched her friends and classmates find their soulmates, or innocently imagine what they would look like. As they gushed about love, she would look down at her wrist, empty of any markings. She’d laugh and put on a fake smile, trying to hide the pain of knowing she didn’t have a soulmate.

Eventually, her eighteenth birthday came around, and she was still soulmateless. Throughout the school day, she anxiously rubbed her wrist where the mark should be, wondering how she would be drafted without a mark. The drive to the Soulmate Commission building was long and somber, her hands shaking on the wheel the whole way. The time finally came when they needed to photograph Eve’s mark, and she pulled up her sleeve to reveal two little lines on her left wrist.

“Hmm,” the worker hummed, pulling the camera back ever so slightly. “We’ve never had two marks before.”

As she walked off to get a supervisor, Eve felt her entire body pale. At that moment, she didn’t know if having two soulmates was better or worse than having none. Her stomach dropped, and a twisting feeling in her gut told you to run. Before she could change her mind about registering today, the woman came back, a disgusted look on her face. She took the picture quickly and scoffed as she checked the quality of the photo.

Maybe the stigma of having two was worse.

———

Groaning, Eve lifted a hand to hold her throbbing head. The pain thumping in her skull woke her up after a who-knows-how-long nap, leaving her feeling like absolute crap. She could sense the blinding white light through closed eyes, making it harder to open them. In an attempt to make out where exactly she was, she tried to squint while sitting up.

The room was a blinding white, the natural light of the large windows clashed with the bright overhead lights to create a visual sensory nightmare that made her eyes sting. The more her eyes adjusted, the more the room started looking like some sort of sterile prison. Eve sat on a stiff bed with only a thin white sheet covering her naked body. The scent of antiseptic, the rough texture of her blanket, the sterile air making her throat dry, it was all too much for her senses.

Eve fully sat up, back resting against the cool white brick wall, and pulled the sheet tightly around her body. Maybe she was just dreaming, and this was some far away place from her nightmares. The chill air in the room made the naked girl shiver, reminding her this was very much reality. Her eyes fell onto a chair opposite of the bed- the thought of someone watching her sleep in only a bra and panties felt extremely violating. Footsteps creaked outside of the small room alongside voices hushed by the brick walls. Eve was just about ready to stand up when a door opened suddenly, making her jump back against the wall.

A man in a white coat walked in holding a familiar pink bag. Eve quickly recognized it as her own from her apartment. She tugged the sheet closer as the man greeted her with a smile.

“Eve, how are you feeling?” The man asked, pulling the chair around to the side of the bed before sitting in it. The girl didn’t respond, only suspiciously eyed up the stranger.

“I’m Dr. Kim, the head doctor for the New York Soulmate Commission.” The doctor reached a hand out towards Eve, intending on a handshake, but she only continued to stare him down relentlessly. “Ah, I see.

“I’d like to apologize on behalf of the Commission for how you were handled on your way here. Best believe me, that contractor has been fired.”

“Handled…?” Eve quietly wondered aloud. She had no memory of how she got here. One moment she was locking up the restaurant, the next she was in what she now assumed was a hospital room.

“Nevertheless,” the doctor quickly cut her off, not wanting to elaborate. He continued with his calm, monotonous voice. “I just need to check for some things. Can you follow the light?”

The doctor flashed a small pen light, moving it slowly for Eve to follow. She did as instructed, and replied with a quiet ‘no’ when asked if she had a headache or nausea. Both times she lied, but she didn’t want to remain here any longer.

The doctor finished the quick exam with a smile, and reached over to grab Eve’s bag off the floor. “You should have a pair of clothes and your personal items in here. I’ll give you a minute before sending your soulmates in.”

“My soulmates?”

This was not how she imagined meeting her soulmates would be. In a bland doctor’s office, naked, and not remembering how she even got to New York from Michigan. Eve didn’t even know what day it was. And now she was supposed to meet her lifelong partners? It felt more like being released into the care of kidnappers. In that moment, she felt jealous of her old classmates who easily found their soulmates from within their hometown. They were spared the shame and uncertainty of being left behind by a flawed system.

Once the doctor left the room, Eve opened her backpack and quickly put on the sweatshirt and sweatpants packed neatly in the bag. She rummaged around to find her phone, and noticed her laptop and tablet had been packed as well. As she stumbled upon her headphones and books, the thought of someone breaking into her home to get her belongings dawned on her. Just how much of her life did they go through while deciding on what to pack? Had they been watching her for a while? An unfamiliar sickness filled her as she grabbed her phone from the bottom of the bag before gently pushing the damned thing away.

The phone wouldn’t turn on, as expected. The battery was long dead, and whoever retrieved it must not have bothered to charge it or pack her charger in the bag. Eve threw it back into the backpack before standing up from the bed.

She walked towards the large windows to be met with a beautiful overview of New York City. Her fingers made their way to her mouth, chewing on her fingernails out of nerves and fear. Never once had she visited a city as big as this. Her hometown had a population of only 10,000 people, and her college town had a population a little under 5,000. This was way out of her normal, and Eve did not like it one bit.

A knock at the door made her jump and turn around. Low, muffled voices could be heard from the other side of the door. Her hands remained by her mouth, biting her nails and tugging on her bottom lip to soothe herself. Eve didn’t know what to expect, and felt so exposed even with her baggy clothes on. She felt like an animal ready to meet its slaughter.

“Eve?” A soft, yet strong voice rung out as the door creaked open. Eve’s brown eyes met an unknown pair of baby blues, and immediately she wanted to be anywhere but there. She felt like a deer in headlights, stuck in place and eyes wide in fear. Her gaze never left the two men as they entered the room together.

These two ginormous men were her soulmates.

“Hi, Eve.” The blonde said with a soft smile. He took a few cautious steps forward, stopping once he saw the tiniest flinch from Eve. “I’m Steve, and this is Bucky.”

Steve tried his best to be as non-intimidating as possible, but their size difference alone made him seem like a threat. The girl in front of him barely looked 100 pounds soaking wet, he probably looked like a predator approaching his prey.

“I-I’m Eve…” the girl introduced herself quietly, her hands making her voice mumbled. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle- this kid managed to be adorable while afraid for her life.

“We know that, doll,” Bucky said, walking more naturally towards her than Steve had with his cautious steps. Eve’s eyes remained trained on Bucky as he leaned against the wall, staring out the window.

Steve, not wanting to further upset the girl who already was on the brink of tears, didn’t make any sudden movements. He cleared his throat so Eve’s eyes would dart back towards him before speaking.

“We’re-“

“Are you the ones that took me?” Eve asked, her voice wavering and cracking near the end. Steve could tell she was not comfortable, not relieved, and not at ease. He could feel their bond yelling at him to comfort her, to hold her and tell her she was safe now. Steve could tell Eve was also fighting that battle- her anxiety heightened as her body told her to get closer, but her brain told her to run as far as she could.

“No, sweetheart. We’re the ones that found you,” Steve tried his best to explain the situation. “We’re going to take you home now.” The blonde super soldier took another step closer to Eve before reaching a hand out to her.

Eve panicked as Steve suddenly entered the bubble of safety she drew up in her mind. Now hyperventilating, she looked desperately around the room for an escape route. She absolutely would not be going anywhere with these men. While Steve and Bucky took a moment to exchange concerned glances, Eve saw that as her opportunity to run. She jumped over the bed and out the door, quickly running down the empty hallway.

The hospital was a maze, Eve kept taking turns in what felt like giant circles. Then again, she didn’t care where she went, as long as she didn’t end up with the strange men. She had to get away. The footsteps behind her were so loud and fast though, making her run quicker than she ever had before. She turned her head to see just how much distance was in between her and them, only to trip over a snag in the carpet and tumble to the ground. Lying there defeated, Eve let the tears flow and her cries loudly break through as she curled up into a ball. Her head grew dizzy as she tried to recover her breath through cries. Seconds later she felt strong hands lift her into the air with sheer ease, making her thrash hard.

Bucky had tried to cut her off on the other side of the hallway, only to watch her fall and eat shit in front of him. His heart skipped a beat, not wanting her to be hurt, especially with how loud her cries grew. Quickly he reached down and threw her over his shoulder, not risking her running off again.

“Let’s go home, troublemaker,” Buck said, securing her down with his metal arm as Eve squirmed and kicked. Steve simply shook his head at the scene, following the two of them out of the building.

Bystanders chuckled and pointed at the scene, it wasn’t every day you saw a grown woman throwing a tantrum over her soulmate’s shoulder. The stares and laughs were shut down by stern looks from Steve and Bucky, their threatening and protective aura immediately ceasing any teasing. The crowd quickly looked away, hurrying on with their tasks.

Eve’s squirms grew more frantic as they reached the exit, her screams raw with panic. “Let me go! I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

Bucky winced at the words, not wanting to show just how much they hurt him. Steve continued to follow Bucky, his expression softening at just how much this hurt Eve. He spoke up with a quiet intensity, “Eve, we’re not going to hurt you. You’re not a prisoner. We’re here to help you, to get you out of this mess.”

Her chest heaved with each sob, her body exhausted from the panic and fear. Slowly, her resistance lessened as her exhaustion grew, and she stopped fighting Bucky’s hold. Her body continued to tremble and rack with sobs.

The evening autumn air hit them once outside, and the streetlights of New York City illuminated the bustling city. However, it all felt cold and isolating to Eve. Her eyes darted around from the passing cars to the towering buildings, feeling overwhelmed. Her wandering eyes landed back on Steve, who gave a reassuring smile that Eve did not return. This was the last place she wanted to be- out with these strangers in a world she didn’t quite understand.

A black SUV waited for them. Bucky moved towards the back, his arm still securely around Eve. Gently, he adjusted her enough to set her down in the backseat. Her resistance was depleted, and she only stared at the back of the passenger seat with bloodshot, teary eyes. Bucky closed and locked the doors before him and Steve quickly got in with her in the front. The three sat in silence for a moment, taking in the reality of the situation.

Eve fiddled with the door for a moment, tiredly trying to open it before coming to terms that she was locked in for good. Not wanting to be so close to her captors, she moved into the third row seats, creating as much space as she possibly could. She kept her gaze out the window, her arms crossed, closing herself off from any confrontation. She didn’t want to talk nor even think about the idea of letting them in. Every inch of her was screaming run.

Steve glanced back at her from the driver’s seat, speaking softly and more soothing than before. “I know this is a lot to take in, but we need you to trust us, okay?”

“No more running, no more fighting,” Bucky added to try and keep things light while still grounded in reality.

“No, thank you.” Eve didn’t even look at them, her eyes fixed on the passing city lights. She never saw such tall buildings or bright lights before. The car began to move through the streets, the hum of the engine filling the silence.

next ->