#soft steve rogers

[haleyhunwritess]

hi haley love, i’m probably sending too many requests i’m so sorry i just feel like i’m being heard here and i feel seen. i’ve been having so many panic and anxiety attacks and i was wondering if you can write something where broken promises stucky help the reader get through it or honestly whoever you’d like. i love you and i hope you’re doing good 🥺

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬

warning: anxiety/panic attack, mentions of anxious feelings, angst, fluff, dd/lg themes, soft!dark!stucky x little!reader

a/n: hi sweetheart, i'm so sorry you've been feeling that way love 🥺 but i hope you're doing a lot better now and you can always talk to me if you need help, my dms are always open my love <33 also i know you said broken promises but i think this could work as a general fic and for broken promises too, i hope you like it lovely <33 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Sweetheart I need you to put your coat on so that we can leave, we're already very behind on our schedule today. We still have to make dinner when we come home, I promised Steve we would try to cook tonight." Bucky rambled as he quickly slipped his boots on.

It had been kind of a hectic morning. Lots of errands to run, lots of things that needed to be done before a peaceful night in with Steve, who was coming back home after two weeks away.

However, when you woke up this morning, your head was pounding and it felt like heart was about to burst out of your chest. You were feeling uneasy as anxious thoughts were running through your head about everything and nothing at the same time. You didn't know why but sometimes you would have days like these where your anxiety got the best of you, and traumatic memories from your past felt like they occurred moments ago.

You needed a mental health day. There was no way you'd be able to handle a whole day of running errands with Bucky. Even getting out of bed this morning felt like an impossible task.

Of course if you told him how you were feeling, he'd be understanding, and he could help you feel better too. But you were in no mood to talk about your feelings.

It seems unfair but you were hoping Bucky would be able to just sense how you're feeling so you wouldn't have to vocalize how you felt. Normally Bucky would have noticed that you were feeling triggered, however, with it being a stressful and busy day, he was too busy trying to complete everything on his to-do list for today before Steve came home.

Unfortunately, with all these anxiety built up in your chest and how exhausted you were after helping Bucky clean the house, you were feeling more and more vulnerable. You felt so weak. So small. And Bucky had yet to notice.

For some reason, he assumed you were being difficult because of little things that happened throughout the day. First, you ran out of your favourite cereal for breakfast. Then, while you were picking up the dishes from the table, you spilled chocolate milk on one of your favourite sweaters.

There were some other small incidences but after each one Bucky assured you there is an easy fix, and that after today, things would be less chaotic.

Currently, he was trying to get you to slip your coat on but instead you just stood there in front of the front door, huffing with your arms crossed. Normally, Bucky would've laughed and called you adorable for trying to look intimidating but right now he was only getting annoyed since you were now an hour behind on your schedule.

"Baby please just listen to me, just this once. We can even have get my girl a new stuffie while we're out?" Bucky crouched down in front of you, trying to help you put your sneakers on. He could tell you were starting to feel kind of small, and he knew he might be able to bribe you with the promise of a stuffie.

Instead, you just shook your head and kicked him as he tried to put your sneakers on your feet for you. He groaned slightly in pain ad stood up immediately, all the patience having left his body at this point.

"Okay, put your shoes and your coat on right now, and meet me by the car in five minutes, understood?" He snapped. He was clearly very upset with your behaviour and he was not in the mood to deal with it right now.

You were frustrated and feeling even more little now, and you couldn't figure out what to do. All you knew was that you did not want to go out. You just wanted to stay home. Deciding to leave without saying a word, you picked up the sneakers and threw them at the front door before starting to walk away and towards the stairs. However, you didn't get very far as Bucky caught your arm and roughly picked you up in his strong arms. Judging from the expression on his face, he was certainly angry now if he wasn't before.

"What did I just tell you, huh? I'm not in the mood to deal with a brat today. When I put you down, you're going to pick up your sneakers and put them on before joining me outside by the car, is that clear?" He said sternly, while still trying not to lose his temper. Tears started to fill your eyes as soon as you heard his harsh tone towards you, and they almost fell as you noticed he nearly rolled his eyes at them, "Don't you dare with the tears, or I’ll give you something to cry about, doll."

After that, you couldn't help it anymore. Tears started rapidly streaming down your face as you sobbed uncontrollably in his arms. Bucky was shocked at first, he didn't realize you were this upset. He instantly began to apologize as he carried you over to the couch.

Whispering, sweet gentle words and apologizes while trying to calm you down was clearly not going to work this time. No matter how hard he tried to comfort you, you were inconsolable. You could feel your entire body shaking, and no matter how hard Bucky tried to calm you down, you just felt like your heart was on fire. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe. Moving your hand up to rub your chest gently, you tried to get yourself to slow down and work on your breathing. Bucky quickly caught on and carefully picked you up from his lap and put you down on the couch. He quickly got up, and sat down in front of the couch, kneeling in front of you.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's alright, baby. I've got you." He took your other hand in his, rubbing it gently while trying to get you to focus on him, "Just look at me, baby. I need you to look at me so I can help you, babygirl. I need you to focus on my breathing, okay? Do you think you can do that for me sweet girl?"

You looked at him for a second before carefully nodding, making him smile. He leaned up for a second to give you a quick kiss before settling back down and trying to help you again.

Focusing on Bucky, and trying to follow as him as he instructed you to take deep breaths with him. It seemed to be working, however, the anxious thoughts were still there. You didn't know how to tell Bucky though you knew he'd definitely wanna know what just happened.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Bucky said, as if he just read your mind, "I mean if you want to talk about it then I'm here for you, but I don't want you to feel like you have to. I just wanna know whether or not you're okay, doll."

"I..." You looked away, feeling even more nervous than before. It felt like your body was screaming at you to tell him why you were acting this way and how you felt right now. But you just couldn't, "I just want to be alone for a bit. I don't want to go out, I know you need to get some errands done but I don't think I wanna come with."

"Fuck the errands. So what if we order in again? No big deal, who cares. I need to make sure that you're okay, I can't just leave you alone after that."

"But I'd rather be alone right now, I promise I'm alright." You muttered nervously.

"Sweetheart, are you feeling little at all? Do you think you need da-" Bucky tried pulling you onto his lap to hug you, but instead you pushed him away and interrupted him.

"I'm not. I wanna be left alone." You nearly snapped as you got off the couch. You didn't know why but you were feeling very angry all of a sudden. The anxiety was still there but the implication of being too weak, vulnerable, or small to handle this on your own was making you a little frustrated.

"Umm alright, sweetheart, if you're sure. I guess I'll see you in an hour then, doll?" Bucky got up from the couch awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he felt slightly confused about what just happened. He knew it was a bad idea to leave you alone but he wanted to respect your decision and give you your space. He quickly left after that, and the second you heard him drive off in his car, you fell back on the couch and started crying once again.

You felt weaker than before and somehow the horrible feeling had reached your stomach making you feel a bit queasy. You couldn't help but wish that you hadn't asked Bucky to leave you alone. You wished that Steve was here too. You felt so small right now, you did not want to be alone. You curled up into a little ball on the couch and hoped that Bucky would be back soon.

After about ten more minutes of crying, you heard the front door open. You quickly looked up from the couch, hoping Bucky had decided to abandon his errands and come home to you instead. However, to your surprise, it seemed that Steve had come home a few hours early, He strolled into the living room towards you with a beaming smile on his face as he was excited to see his girl after being away for so long. Although, that smile disappeared pretty quickly when he noticed your tear-stained face.

"Oh no, pretty girl, what happened to you? Are you hurt?" Steve knelt down in front of you, looking at you with his concern-filled eyes. You quickly shook your head in reply, letting him know that you're not hurt. He could already tell that you were feeling little right now, and didn't seem to be up for much talking, "Bubba, where's Bucky? Why isn't he here with you right now?"

"He left...errands..." You mumbled, looking down at the ground, feeling guilty for practically kicking Bucky out of the house. You looked up at Steve and felt your guilt getting even worse when you noticed the shift in his demeanour. Watching him take his phone out of his pocket and angrily text someone.

"Baby come on, let's get you upstairs to bed for now, okay?" Steve said as he gently rubbed your back for a bit before getting up to you carry you upstairs in his arms. You heard his phone buzz in his pocket, and he stopped in his tracks to check and see what it was before continuing to walk upstiars again.

On the way to your room, you couldn't help but lean into Steve's touch making him smile slightly. He kissed the top of your head before gently putting you down on your bed.

You gulped, feeling guilty about receiving all these sweet attention from him while he clearly seemed mad at Bucky for leaving you alone when you told him what happened downstairs. Although, it was you who asked him to leave you alone, "Daddy please don't be mad. I asked him to leave."

Steve frowned at your words before shaking his head in reply, "Sweet girl, I'm not angry. I'm sorry I made you feel that way but I promise I'm not, okay?"

You slowly nodded in response, still unconvinced. Steve sighed in response and began gently rubbing your back as he spoke, "I'm not angry, I'm just a little upset that Bucky wasn't here while you were feeling this way, pretty girl."

You gulped before answering him in a quiet tone, "I asked him to leave me alone."

"Why would you do that, pretty girl?" Steve asked, although he already knew what happened as Bucky already texted him and explained the situation to him. He was upset that Bucky left, but he wasn't angry once Bucky explained that you asked him to leave. Now, he was just upset that you were all alone while feeling this way.

"Was feeling anxious...didn't wanna talk about it...still don't. Don't really know why I asked him to leave. I'm sorry..." You said, sniffling near the end of your sentence as the tears started flowing down your cheeks once again.

"Oh my sweet girl, it's okay, it's alright. There's no need to apologize, okay? Sometimes feelings like anxiety, or even sadness, make us do silly things. It happens to all of us, even me and Bucky." He carefully wiped your tears away before leaning down to kiss your forehead, "I'm right here, okay? I've got you, sweetheart. You just get some rest, and when Bucky comes home, we'll have a nice night in with some of your favourite pasta and whatever movie you want to watch, okay?"

You smiled and nodded your head in response. Steve smiled back at you and leaned down to kiss you again before getting up to pick up your favourite stuffie for you to cuddle with as you took your much needed nap.

taglist/moots: @starobi @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @babyhoneyriv @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11 @ailathealternate @buckysugar

[nyxstyxsstuff]

How it started

How it went

And how it's going 💞💞💞

A friend sent a picture of a book called Boys Are Poisonous, and my brain ran with the idea until I started drawing Snakeboy Steve Rogers. Now I'm 3 days into drawing this, and I have an entire AU fic idea lined up. I am so proud of how soft I made Steve look in this ❣️

[kilibaggins]

i love the idea of soft steve like he just wants to be held and have his hair pet. he's big and strong but he wants to be held with his head on someone's chest. he wants to feel calmed by their heartbeat. he wants to be comforted by someone's hand running up and down his arms and back. he needs it like he needs air.

[hainethehero]

Fluffy hair, plush pink lips, a permanent pout, gorgeous tits and a peachy ass...

AND YALL THINK THIS MAN IS AN ALPHA?

A TOP?!

The first time he topped, he cried and made Bucky promise never to do it again!

He likes soft, cosy blankets, hot cocoa and snuggles dammit!

He likes when Bucky sings him to sleep!

Natasha holds his hands sometimes on missions when his anxiety gets too much!

Tony keeps lil Ty beanie boo plushies around Avengers tower just for Steve when he gets bored or lonely.

Bruce watches Bluey with him because he finds modern children's animation and TV MINDBLOWING!

Rumlow lets him doodle on his hand when they're being debriefed for missions at SHIELD.

Rollins lets him put his head on his lap during breaks on missions.

Thor answers all his questions about Asgard and takes him there to draw and paint!

Clint brings Steve along with his family when it's movie night!

Fury plays boardgames with him!

And Sam takes him for ice-cream and coffee and long walks in the park!

This man is soft! This man is adorable! And MCU has taken all that away from him. He is not always in charge, he does not like war, he hates the government and he just wants to be seen as a person.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[tea-stained-notes]

Steve Rogers x OFC - Waiting On a Miracle, Chapter 5

After catching an infamous serial killer in the act, Julie Castillo is in line for the witness protection program. She is sent to a temporary safe house with U.S. Marshal Steve Rogers to protect her. Both of them scarred by trauma and tragedy, they find solace in each other. But how far will they dare to go?

A shorter one, but at least you're getting an update in record time :D Also, I finally got around to making a tag list for this - if you'd like to be added or removed, please let me know!

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4

Series warnings: violence, death, angst, trauma, smut

Chapter warnings: anxiety, trauma

Chapter word count: ~1600

Song(s) referenced: Waving Through a Window (Dear Evan Hansen) Santa Fe (Newsies), Where Did the Rock Go (School of Rock), Empty Chairs At Empty Tables (Les Misérables)

Tag List: @multifanworld @peguem-o-pombo-agora @cvanstagram @yslvtre @wandasrogers @littleredone88 @before-we-get-started @sophham @missaprilt23 @chrissusmissus @dvmb-whxre @daddydraco0 @quicksilversthings @thechoosenonecreator @rosellia-hudsons @lokirogersgirl @333vadubios

A couple of days later Natasha came by with a DVD player and a stack of movies. “I got about half of your list — even that should keep your busy for weeks,” she greeted us, then turned to Steve. “Never pegged you as a Disney guy, Rogers.” “Glad our relationship still retains some mystery,” he shot back with an easy grin. Natasha’s eyes widened infinitesimally, her gaze flickering between the two of us. “What have you done to him? I’ve never seen this man so chill in my life.” I chuckled awkwardly, heat rising in my cheeks. “Well, ya know how it is. Give a man a cute cottage and some books and suddenly his inner snappy Belle breaks out.” She stared at me for a moment, then burst into roaring laughter. “I like this one,” she said to Steve as she shouldered him out of the way to carry in our things. Our eyes met and I found a strange expression behind his amusement. “Yeah, me too,” he mumbled so softly I feared I had imagined it. Then Natasha dropped her big box onto the kitchen counter, breaking the spell.

“Other than this treasure trove of entertainment I’m also bringing some good news.” “And what’s that?” Steve asked, closing the door before gently guiding me towards his colleague. My skin caught on fire where his hand grazed the small of my back and I tried to ignore his comforting scent around me. A rather impossible task. “Okamoto called. They actually got some good leads on Parker. If all goes well, you’ve only got a few days left here.” “Oh,” I whispered. “Wow.” “Yeah, exciting stuff. I’m sure that’ll be a massive load off your shoulders.” “Definitely.” What I couldn’t tell her was that if that load was finally lifted, another heavy one would settle in its place. My old life seemed light years away and without Steve I wasn’t sure it would ever feel like home again. “So you might wanna get cracking on your little cinema experience soon.” She winked at us. “I put some popcorn in there as well.” “Thanks, Nat,” Steve said, his voice a little rough around the edges. “You’re the best.” “And don’t I know it.” She snatched one of the cookies we had made, then sauntered back towards the door. “Be good, kids. I’ll let you know if there’s any new developments.”

A long moment of silence followed her departure. Thoughts whirled around my brain at a million miles per second. I tried to convince myself that these were indeed good news. That with Parker safely behind bars I might finally be able to sleep through the night again. That I would soon see my friends, go back to work and… And what? With some distance I felt nothing but stuck in a life that wasn’t really leading anywhere. Talking about my past with Steve had brought up things I hadn’t allowed myself to fully feel in a very long time. I had been pushing them down for so long without realising how their leaden weight had held me in the same place for years. “How are you feeling?” I flinched, then slowly looked up at Steve. He was close, studying me with concern. “Strange. Relieved, I guess. But I…” My lip began to quiver. “I’m not sure if… if I can just go back.” “Yeah. I understand.” And when his eyes sank into mine I felt that he actually did. After all these hours together he could read me better than I was able to. I blinked away tears, gluing my gaze to the floorboards. “Would you like to talk about it?” “I don’t think so. Not now.” “Okay.” Out of habit I once more glanced at the piano. The strange object that was both siren and anchor in this room, calling out to me with the same force as the old piano in my house once had. I could almost see my younger self on that stool, my mom by my side, both of us smiling while treading the familiar path of a duet. “May I play something?” I surprised myself with the question spilling from my lips before the thought had even fully formed. I felt more than saw Steve nod, apparently too stunned to reply. A strange itch consumed me from the inside out, born of frustration and restlessness, of panic and longing. I didn’t know what I wanted to play, only that I needed to play, to sing, anything to release this painful tension. With newfound purpose I marched over to the piano, snapped it open and began to play before I had even fully sat down. Song after song poured out of me and I had never been so thankful for all the composers and lyricists who had labored to condense these emotions I could barely name into timeless ballads. Waving Through a Window turned into Santa Fe, then into Where Did the Rock Go. By the time I finally had to take a breath and stretch out my shaking fingers, I felt lighter, almost floating.

Steve had sat down on the sofa, watching me with a certain kind of wonder when I dared to turn to him. “Sorry about th—“ “No. Absolutely not. Don’t apologize.” He inhaled deeply, then gave me the softest of smiles. “That was incredible.” I blushed, my hands a tangled mess in my lap. “And it seemed very cathartic.” “Yeah. It really was.” I shrugged. “That’s one of the many reasons I’ve always loved musicals. There’s a song for every emotion, every situation. It’s not just the same tired pop songs you’ve heard a thousand times in a thousand variations. Theatre songs tell stories, real stories. Even mine.” Steve nodded thoughtfully. “I used to like that, too.” “But you’d forgotten.” “Somehow yes.” “I think I kind of had as well. Until that… outburst on our first day here. I used to do that all the time, just express whatever I was feeling through a specific song.” “People always find it weird when characters in a film or on stage do that but honestly, maybe we’d be a better society if everyone could just let out their feelings through song every now and then.” We both grinned. Steve sat back in the sofa, his legs casually pulled up beneath him. I once more marveled at the domesticity of our strange arrangement. “Would you mind doing a few more songs?” “Really?” “Only if you want to.” I was stunned to find that I did in fact want to. As if a dam had broken inside, letting something to flow through me that I hadn’t felt in ages. I nodded fervently. “Okay, you seem to really like ballads. So what's the saddest song from a musical?” “Wow, going right where it hurts, huh?” I blew out some air, contemplating for a few seconds. “There's so many good ones. And obviously the ones you relate to most hit the hardest. But a classic would be Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Mis.” “What's that one about?” Steve smirked. “A failing restaurant?” “Not quite. Wait, let's see if I can still play it.” I sat down at the piano and ran my fingers over the keys, closing my eyes as I tried to recall the notes.

“There's a grief that can't be spoken,” I began softly. “There's a pain goes on and on. Empty chairs at empty tables. Now my friends are dead and gone… Here they talked of revolution. Here it was they lit the flame. Here they sang about tomorrow and tomorrow never came.” I slowly increased the volume in both my voice and the piano, getting lost in the piece. “From the table in the corner they could see a world reborn. And they rose with voices ringing and I can hear them now. The very words that they had sung became their last communion on this lonely barricade at dawn. Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me that I live and you are gone. There's a grief that can't be spoken, there's a pain goes on and on. Phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor. Empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will meet no more. Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me what your sacrifice was for. Empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will sing no more…” I let the last note ring out for a long moment, revelling in the ballad’s echo. And then I heard it. Broken sobs. I spun around, my gaze flying to Steve. His cheeks glistened with tears, teeth buried in his bottom lip to stifle the violent noises almost breaking through. “Hey, hey…” I whispered in shock. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—” A breath later I found myself kneeling in front of him, my hands gently holding his clammy, trembling ones. “Steve, I'm so sorry.” He shook his head and took a shuddering breath, falling back into the couch. I moved to sit beside him, trying to keep some distance but he never let go of my hands. We sat like that for a long time, our knees pressed together, while Steve slowly calmed himself. My thumbs kept caressing his knuckles, as naturally as breathing. “You were right, it hits much harder when you relate to it,” he eventually said, voice raspy from crying. I glanced up at his bloodshot eyes. “Will you tell me about it?”

[babyjakes]

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

event | kinkmas 2023

prompts | exhibitionism + piercing

pairing | soft!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader, feat. lloyd's friends: andy barber, ari levinson, ransom drysdale, steve rogers

warnings | ddlg dynamics (lloyd is a soft sweet daddy.) months of no touch/orgasms. clit hood piercing (+ me not knowing much about them.) fivesome with a sixth watching; exhibitionism. fingering (vaginal + anal.) nipple play. clit focus + rubbing. overstimulation. asking permission to come + she comes hard. so much praise and encouragement. probably some light mocking/humiliation. sooo many petnames. aftercare!! :) brief alcohol mention

word count | 1,580

an | sorry for the weird formatting? tumblr wouldn't allow me to use the bulleted list bc of too many characters i think- but ahhh omg the very last kinkmas piece 🥺 this event has been so much fun i hope you've all enjoyed the stuff i've written!! make sure to check out the event masterlist for anything you might've missed and thanks so much for reading along with me this month!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all of you sweet friends 😌💕

thinking about daddy!lloyd piercing your clit hood and then inviting all his friends over to show you off 🫠 piercings do take time to heal so maybe he's away on a trip for a few months after it happens, and when he returns home he has his buddies over to come play with you 😌 you were touch-free for that time period, so by the time the big night comes you're more than ready for some attention down there

lloyd dresses you up in a pretty new dress he got while out on his trip, short with lots of cleavage showing as always. and panties are skipped entirely; they'd just get in the way. he has you wait in your room as he brings his guests in, getting everyone settled in the fancy lounge with drinks and snacks. then he sends one of his servants to bring you down from where you're patiently waiting upstairs

andy, ari, ransom, and steve all coo and fawn adoringly as soon as you appear. you recognize every face in the group quite well; these are your daddy's closest and most trusted friends, the only men he would ever allow near you besides himself. this isn't the first time they've come over to play under lloyd's supervision. while these sessions can be overwhelming with so many players involved, things never get out of hand, as each of your daddy's friends treat you with just as much respect and care as he would, himself

"there's the pretty girl. we've missed you, sweetheart," ari's cooing from his seat on one of the armchairs

"that's a cute little dress, sunshine. s'it new?" ransom winks at you as he stands near your daddy's chair, finishing a glass of scotch

"come on over, doll. your daddy said you have something very special to show us," steve says gently, patting the space on the long leather couch between him and andy

the lawyer nods at the blonde man's words, adding, "come here, honey. got a nice spot saved just for you"

lloyd's on the other couch, across from steve and andy. "go on, princess. they've all been waiting so patiently to see," he encourages you

you find your way over, sitting down obediently between the two broad men. ari comes and sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. ransom makes his way behind the couch, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and easing you back a bit

"you wanna show us, angel?" ari asks gently as he leans in a bit, helping the men on either side of you bring your legs up to bend at the knee, your stocking-covered feet falling to either side of you. when you give a timid nod, the skirt of your dress is lifted up to expose your most intimate parts to the eager men surrounding you. a soft gasp is shared as they all lay eyes on your leaking cunt, swollen and sensitive from months of neglect

"aww, little one," steve's murmuring sympathetically at the sight of your arousal

"look at that ring- so pretty, sweet girl," andy marvels at the sight of the gold loop that now runs right through the fleshy hood covering your needy little nub

"your daddy told us it's a very special ring," ari hums steadily as he reaches out and gently spreads your messy folds apart, all of the men watching as your little hole twitches. "it goes right through the hood of your sweet little clit, doesn't it baby?"

"and that means," ransom chimes in from behind as he reaches down into your low-cut top, gently collecting your tits in his hands and squeezing at them, "that every time it moves, it rubs right up against your poor little button. isn't that right, pretty girl?"

you manage to give a shaky nod, a small whimper rising in your throat as the men all close in to finally start giving you the relief you so desperately need. there's no fumbling or hesitation, each of them settling in on their own task to contribute to the system of pleasure

steve brings two huge fingers to line up right at your opening, swirling the tips around briefly in your pool of slick before steadily pushing in. "okay sweetheart, let's get this pretty little pussy nice and filled up"

ransom continues up at your chest, his fingers rubbing and pinching at your pebbled nipples. "there you go, doll face. just relax," he's encouraging as your back arches lightly, making you sink a bit down further into the couch

andy drags some of your plentiful wetness down, carefully teasing the tip of a single digit over your puckered rosebud. he chuckles when you let out a startled whine, his voice low and soothing in tone as he croons, "easy, baby. i'll be gentle, i promise"

and ari seems maybe the most pleased of them all as he begins tapping and tugging gently at the small gold ring settled so perfectly against your now hardened clit. the feeling of the metal bumping and moving against your throbbing button is already more than enough to make you squirm, ari's patient gaze settled on you as he murmurs, "look at that, so responsive, just like always. does that feel good, baby doll? here, i wonder if we just-"

the others continue masturbating you in their various ways as the man before you pulls up on the ring, forcing the hood of your clit back to reveal your swollen little nub. "there it is," ari breathes happily as he steals some of your slick, bringing his thumb up to begin swiping repeatedly over your exposed bundle of nerves as his other hand keeps its hood retracted with the ring

"oh-... o-oh..." you're immediately stumbling over your words, your breaths shuddering as your clit burns brutally beneath ari's quickening pace

"think someone likes that," steve's chuckling beside you as he stretches you out on his fingers, curling them upward to stroke against your weak spot

andy's gathered more of your arousal to coat his pointer finger as he gently begins easing it up into your tight little ass, his eyes shining with pride as you weakly take the intrusion, "yeah? you like that, baby girl? that's it, honey. you're being so good for us"

"let's see if we can make this pretty little girl come for us," ari speaks to the others as your tummy quivers, your little legs shaking on either side of you as the stimulation becomes more and more overwhelming. but as soon as your knees begin trying to close, steve and andy are holding them open, giving you no choice but to lay there against the hot leather and let the men bring you to orgasm

"remember to ask permission, baby," ransom's reminding you as his head leans down next to your ear. the hands all over your body continue, but everyone glances over in lloyd's general direction as he sits just across the coffee table on the opposite couch, watching intently with a hand placed at his chin. one of his big rules for shared play time is that you always get his permission to come

"p-please daddy," your little voice comes out begging as both your holes are fucked forcefully now with large, slippery fingers, your nipples being rolled and rubbed as your clit is flicked in rapid succession. "please, c-can i-... can i-i come?"

lloyd scoots forward a bit, giving a simple nod as he lowers his hand from his face. "go ahead, princess. being so good for daddy's friends, you can come. you've earned it, baby"

as soon as you're allowed, you let go, your orgasm washing over you with impressive force. being the first climax you've had in months, it's quite the sight to be seen

all the praise coming from the men surrounding you blurs together as your holes contract around the fingers still pumping inside you: "oh- there it is" "good, very good, little one" "look at that, coming so hard for us" "keep going, baby. keep coming, that's it" "poor little girl, needed it so bad, huh?" "so cute when she comes, isn't she? such a precious girl"

when the waves of pleasure are finally dying down, their cheers turn to softer, soothing words as their hands still against you: "did so good for us, pretty girl. we're so proud of you" "that feel good, angel? seemed like a pretty big one" "you're okay, sweetheart. here, let's get your daddy over here" “no little one, don’t move. we’ll take care of the mess; you just hang tight”

everything feels like you’re experiencing it through a haze as lloyd comes over with the supplies needed for aftercare. you’re cleaned up and put in a comfy pair of fresh panties, your dress being repositioned on you to cover you up. someone wraps you in a blanket, and soon you’re safe and content in your daddy’s arms

the men all spend the rest of the night doting on you, helping keep you in a tiny headspace where you feel so safe and cared for. you get all the snuggles, tummy rubs, hair strokes, nose and cheek kisses, and gentle loving words you could ever want from each of your daddy’s wonderful friends

wow holy cow i got carried away with this 😮‍💨 all of them at once is so much but like,, , the i need that kind of so much 😔🙏

[georgiapeach30513]

Your Mark On Me Masterlist

When you need something to help you stay alert study, you found a whole lot more than you were looking for. Tatted and massive. He was what your dreams were made of, but is he a nightmare? He claimed you, and now he intends on keeping you. No matter what the cost.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

A/N: this story is going to have themes of drug dealing and taking drugs, there will be manipulation, stalking, degradation, and so much more. This is a dark Steve that wants possession of reader. Read ALL warnings before each chapter. You are responsible for the content you consume. Minors DNI

[stuckysbike]

More Than One Valentine

A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.

Stucky x Reader, Bucky x reader, Stucky, Steve x reader

AU: you finally get Steve and Bucky together- now you need to work out what to do with yourself abs your broken heart.

Warnings: angst, smut, 18 plus only please, fluff, FWB situation, presumed unrequited love, polyamory, MMF, bisexual Stucky, Dom!Bucky, sub!Steve, switch!reader

-

Bucky and Steve finally shared their first kiss on Valentine’s Day.

It was a bittersweet moment for you; you’d been trying to get them together for too long and now you had nothing to do, nowhere to go.

In a twisted and complicated situation you’d ended up as a FWB to both of them. It started with Bucky, a wet night with only his leather coat for shelter turned into desperate kissing and more. Then three months later he was on a mission and Steve had come in from a date in a terrible headspace.

You called Bucky because you didn’t know what else to do. Bucky’s advice was to screw Steve’s brains out.

“What?” You stuttered.

“He gets too into his head, you gotta’ help him clear it out doll,” Bucky said in that gruff tone.

“I - but - we-“

“Go ahead. I don’t mind sharing our arrangement with Stevie. Always shared everything with him anyway, you’re no different,” Bucky said as if you were an old coat or a favourite book.

It hurt, deep in your gut like a hand twisting it savagely, but you brushed it aside. You were just a couple of friends who tamed an itch. Bucky probably did it with lots of girls and guys. You weren’t his only one. You couldn’t be.

So you fell into a routine with them. If Steve had any reservations he didn’t share them and his mood changed, not just that night but overall. He was lighter, different like he had a plan again.

It was obvious they were in love, that they wanted each other. Everyone could see it, especially you. You spent most time with them, you saw the subtle touches, kind words and gentle gestures. You would find them making each other breakfast, or always making sure the other one was drinking enough water.

And the sex was …even? You never spent more time with one over the other. You went from one to the other than back.

Sometimes you didn’t even get to shower; after a night with Steve Bucky would drag you to his room in the morning to taste you while Steve went on a run. Sometimes Steve would come in after a long stint of being Captain America and bury his face in you pussy moments after Bucky had went to his own room.

“I can’t take it. They’re ruining my vagina,” you complained to Nat one evening after too many cocktails. The and my heart was left unspoken but you both knew it.

Nat had laughed anyway because in that moment you both needed to laugh. “Set them up.” She poured another drink. She wasn’t even following recipes any longer. It was shots of hard liquor that burned in the best way.

So you did, you made sure the floor you all shared was off limits, you lit candles and played soft music, dimmed the lights. You got your hands on some Asgardian Champagne, scattered rose petals and made sure both their bedrooms had ample supplies of lube and toys.

You made sure your own room had noise cancelling headphones, snacks and a queue of your favourite shows all lined up to make sure you didn’t think too much. Or hear too much.

You should have prepared for a broken heart.

Here they were after confessing their love and finally kissing as they stood in front of the massive windows. You were on the couch, you needed to start them off, convince them to take the leap, but as soon as they got lost in each other you stood and slipped away.

At least you tried to.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, his voice small and vulnerable.

You froze and looked over your shoulder. They were both looking your way, faces unreadable.

“To give you both some privacy,” you said quietly.

“But we need to thank you,” Bucky’s voice was equally soft.

You offered them a smile, it was genuine because you were happy for them, you just realised too damn late that you’d fallen for both of them.

They walked towards you, a pair of supersoldiers, one beefy the other sculpted. One dark the other light.

Two pairs of blue eyes burned into your skin. You felt like crying, because it was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen and all they were going to do was hug you then get on with their lives.

Bucky caught your hand and pulled you towards his body but he turned you so your back was to his chest.

“Say thank you Stevie,” he growled.

Steve immediately dropped his mouth to yours. The kiss was gentle, just a brush of his pink lips as they pressed into yours. He pulled away after the kiss that was not just friendly. “Thank you.” He had that sincere look, the honest voice.

Your heart broke a little more.

And then Bucky was turning you in his arms and looking down at you. Steve’s big hands rested on your hips as he held you in place for Bucky. Bucky was rougher than Steve, his lips pressed you harder more demanding making you weak at the knees.

Where Steve asked Bucky took.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, a tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Now where were we?”

And they started kissing over your shoulder. They moved close crushing your body between theirs, hands holding you still as they explored each others mouths.

You gasped and tried to slip away but you were trapped. You tried harder only for them to part and Bucky looked at you with hard eyes.

“Stop squirming doll, I’m kissing on my fella and you’re distracting me. You’ll get your turn.” You gaped up at Bucky but his focus was back on Steve. “Come ‘ere you.”

You could hear the wet noises of their kisses, could feel their physical reactions as you stood trapped between their hard bodies.

When they pulled apart for air you found yourself turned back to Steve and he was kissing you, desperate now as he licked into your mouth. He let out a needy moan as he lifted you and you had no choice but to wrap your legs around him.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Bucky growled. His hands were on your hips and ass and it took you a moment to realise you were moving towards Steve’s bedroom.

Steve fell back on his bed and looked up at you with doe eyes, lips parted and pure trust. And something else you couldn’t place. You were straddling his waist when the bedroom door clicked shut.

“Don’t mind me,” Bucky sat on the chair in the corner, and you looked between them. Maybe this was one last night with them, and you would make it count before they got on with the rest of their lives without you.

In the bedroom Steve was submissive. It had surprised you at first; but it made sense. Steve carried the universe on his shoulders sometimes so it was natural that he’d want to forget. So you were what he needed you to be. You took charge, took care of him, made it so that he didn’t need a plan or a rousing speech in the bedroom.

Bucky was dominant, that didn’t surprise you at all. He needed control, where he’d been tortured before now he thrived in giving pleasure in making decisions, on taking care of his lovers. You let him take care of you, you basked in and enjoyed it. You loved the attention.

And you were the perfect switch between them giving each of them what they needed.

You bit your lip, nerves running through you but you pushed it aside to try and enjoy one last night with them both.

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green!” Steve said urgently.

“Steve, take your clothes off,” you said. Steve immediately sat up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, looking between you and Bucky but you clicked your tongue and Steve’s eyes flew to you. “Eyes on me baby, you have him all to yourself soon enough.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched and Bucky shifted in his chair but you stayed still watching Steve. He folded his shirt then toed his shoes off, and as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops he looked down at you, holding it between big hands.

Bucky sucked in a breath as you nodded and Steve set the belt on the bed for later. He sat and removed his socks then his pants.

Once upon a time his cheeks would have been red by this point but Steve had gotten past that, he trusted you and with his attention on you the fact that Bucky was sitting right there didn’t even phase him.

His boxer briefs were navy blue, and it was obvious he was aroused by the whole situation. He looked at you as he thumbed the waistband.

“Won’t be much fun with them on will it Soldier?” You teased and his cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink before he started to push them down. “Eyes on me.” You reminded him and his confidence returned.

And then Steve was naked, standing tall and proud and fully erect. You looked at Bucky and he was watching the two of you with something that looked like pride.

“Why don’t you get your ring, plug and the lube?” You suggested to Steve.

Bucky groaned and you glanced over at him as Steve scrambled across the bed to grab what he wanted from underneath. “Do you want to cut in?”

Bucky smiled, warm and genuine and for a second your breath caught. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not yet. I’m dying to see where this goes.”

When you turned back to the bed Steve was kneeling in the middle, eyes wide and wet lips parted. “You look like a horny puppy.” You told him and it made him laugh.

You didn’t say anything else as you removed your clothes and Steve settled down to watch you, waiting patiently with his hands in his lap.

When you got to your bra and panties you hesitated but Bucky’s soft voice rang in your ears. “All of it.”

You looked over at him, making eye contact to acknowledge you’d heard him then nodded, holding his gaze.

You removed your bra, then panties and Steve let out a gentle moan.

“On your back baby,” you told Steve. He complied immediately and lay back, spreading his long legs so you could settle between his thighs. He handed you a pillow and you thanked him with a kiss to the lips then helped him place it under his hips. “Do you want your belt?”

Steve nodded eagerly and you handed it to him. Steve lay back with his arms stretched above his head holding the belt in his hands.

“Colour?” You checked.

“Green,” Steve said.

“Steve is such a good boy that he stays like that until he’s told to move,” you told Bucky. “Well, most of the time.”

Bucky laughed softly and you drew your focus back to Steve. Bending you kissed his thighs, nipping at sensitive skin. As you moved closer Steve moaned and gasped until finally you were pressing a chaste kiss to the base of his cock.

You kissed lower until your tongue reached his tightly furled ass, and then with wet licks you proceeded to help him relax. You didn’t notice Bucky get out of his chair, not until you saw the black vibranium hand resting on Steve’s knee.

You pulled away and looked up at him. “Too much for you?”

“Christ Dolly you’re killing me,” Bucky’s voice was rough with arousal.

You giggled and got back to your task. It wasn’t long before you were sitting up and drizzling lube on your fingers. You warmed it up then pressed two against his puckered hole.

“The lube is edible and flavoured. Steve likes his asshole eaten,” you said conversationally to Bucky.

Steve whined and you grinned up at him. You shuffled closer and took the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking the pre-cum and sucking the skin as you curled your fingers. Steve cried out and you took him deeper, breathing through your nose as he filled your throat. You loved this, Steve at your mercy as you pleasured him.

When you finally felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose you pulled back and reached for the cock ring. “He doesn’t really need this, he has a refractory period just like yours but sometimes he’s over eager. He can get…messy.”

Steve moaned softly, hearing you talk about him as if he wasn’t there was driving him insane in the best way.

“You know him well,” Bucky praised. He was right behind you now looking over your shoulder, still fully clothed apart from his shoes and socks. You hadn’t noticed him taking them off.

You reached for the plug next, it was a smaller one, black, with a flared base. It slipped in easily but Steve moaned and arched his back. You turned it slowly and watched his chest heave.

“How do you feel?” You asked Steve.

He nodded and met your eyes. “I feel yeah-“

“Colour?” You asked.

“Green,” Steve practically slurred.

You chuckled and then settled back onto your haunches. Bucky looked at you curious for your next move.

“He’s all yours,” you whispered looking up at him.

A big hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you softly. “He’s all ours Doll.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you wished that were true but you pushed the hope away. This was about getting them together. Nothing else.

Bucky kissed you, his movements lazy but dominating and he gripped your soft skin. His hand slipped between your legs and you’d been able to ignore your needs until now but as soon as his fingertip brushed your slick puffy lips you sighed and leaned into Bucky. His other hand moved to your hair and he fisted it just enough to pull your head back. “I’m so proud of you. Watching you with Steve, so proud of both of you.”

You felt the blood warm your cheeks at his praise and snuggled against him.

“Now, I’m going to undress. I want you to get a reward for being so good to Stevie, what do you say Steve?” Bucky asked easily taking over the room.

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yes, please, baby, sit on my face?”

“Yeah, I want to see that. Go sit on his face baby,” Bucky kissed you again. You did as he asked, turning so you could watch him. Steve didn’t let go of the belt as his tongue dove inside your folds, lapping and sucking at your juices.

Steve moaned and Bucky’s sharp eyes zeroed in on you. “Hovering baby girl? That’s against the rules,” Bucky warned.

Steve moaned again and you chuckled, giving Bucky a bright smile. “I know he’s been good, but he has to earn it,” you teased.

Bucky smiled softly and removed his black boxer briefs and then he was kneeling between Steve’s spread legs. He skimmed his fingers along the sensitive skin on Steve’s thighs and you could see Steve tremble. You close that moment to rest your full weight on him for a few seconds, knowing he needed it.

His moans vibrated through you and then Bucky was kissing you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Bucky touched Steve and every time he cried out or trembled you rested your weight onto him, calming him.

And then Bucky was bringing the plug out, replacing it with his fingers. His eyes flicked up to you as Steve sucked on your clit.

“Cum baby,” Bucky said. You didn’t even know you were waiting for permission. You cried out as your release washed through you, making your toes curl. As you came down from your high Bucky kissed you. “Now go clean him up.”

You moved fast, straddling Steve’s tummy and kissing over his face, licking into his mouth. You were so busy kissing Steve you almost missed the deep groan he let out. Two hands, one warm and one cold lifted your hips and then Steve’s cock was sliding snugly into your soaked cunt.

“I’m going to fuck both of you now,” Bucky warned.

“Please Bucky,” you whined.

Bucky’s hand slid into your hair and he grabbed a thick fistful as he pulled you back against his chest.

“Look at you,” Bucky growled in your ear as his other hand slid around your throat. His nimble fingers trailed your body, plucking at your nipples, squeezing soft flesh, tickling your hips and exploring the area where you and Steve were joined. “Our perfect girl.”

“Bucky,” you turned to him squeezing your thighs. Beneath you Steve grunted as you squeezed his cock, his eyes never leaving you and Bucky.

“Colour?” Bucky asked you.

“So fuckin’ green!” You said.

“Stevie, baby I need you to hold onto her, make sure she has some support. Hands up,” he said.

Steve let go of the belt and raised his hands, palms up and fingers wide. “Good boy baby,” Bucky praised. You reached out and pressed your palms to Steve’s, let your fingers tangle and lock together.

Steve tested the pressure, moving you slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle as he practically used you as a weight, lowering you to kiss his lips then pushing you back to Bucky’s chest.

Bucky let out a soft laugh at the two of you and hooked his chin over your bare shoulder. “Show off,” he said to Steve. Steve, in a happy headspace blew him a kiss.

Bucky started off gentle, his thrusts going through Steve and into you. Bucky was taking his time, working out this new position as he managed both of you.

His hands returned to your body, his fingers strumming over your body. He knew every nerve, knew what made you sigh and squeal, what relaxed you and what wound you up.

With a palm on your back he pushed you forward until you were lying on Steve’s chest. His right hand gripped your butt cheek, moulding the flesh and you knew it was coming but you still yelped.

Steve grunted, you were squeezing his cock again. “Do you know why I’m spanking you?” Bucky’s voice cut through your brain fog and you nodded.

“I broke a rule,” you slurred. Steve kissed your cheek and forehead as he simply observed. “I hovered.”

Bucky grunted in agreement and a few more slaps landed on you. “You had a good reason though so I think that’ll do.”

Bucky’s hands moved over your back as he curled over you both. His right hand cupped Steve’s cheek. Kissing each other in this position would be impossible so he ran his thumb over Steve’s lips. Steve opened his mouth and sucked Bucky’s thumb in. Bucky groaned at the sight and the sensation.

“You good there Sweetheart?” Bucky asked him.

Steve’s smile was dopey, despite Bucky’s digit in his way and he nodded, his eyes shining. “Never better.”

The words were garbled but easily understood none the less. As Bucky pulled away he kissed your cheek.

Bucky started to thrust again and you moved back to sit on Steve, that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel the cock ring. Bucky must have removed it from Steve and you were grateful because you didn’t think you had the ability to remove it at this point. You were a soft Dom, you didn’t like delaying or preventing orgasms, you were too needy yourself.

You kissed Steve’s chest and face as Bucky fucked him and Steve sobbed into your mouth when your lips met. Bucky’s movements were getting more aggressive and Steve was gasping and thrashing in pleasure.

“Is he good?” You prompted.

“So good, I’m - it’s - he’s amazing,” Steve said.

“Shush, baby hush, he’ll hear you and his ego will be insufferable,” you teased.

Bucky laughed, his hand sliding around your throat and pulling you back to his chest. “So rude,” he grunted as he kissed you, his fingers finally brushing over your clit.

Steve came first after you clenched around his cock, your body chasing Bucky’s fingers, and you followed a few moments behind him. The familiar stutter of Bucky’s breathing told you he’d found his release too.

“You two will be the death of me,” he said as he kissed your neck and shoulders and helped you untangle yourself from Steve.

A warm cloth was cleaning you, hands were moving you and you realised Steve was getting the same treatment as he sighed in contentment.

Bucky got into bed on the other side of Steve and smiled softly at you both.

“I should go,” you said suddenly.

“No!” They both said at once.

You shifted. “But I- this was about you two.”

Steve pulled you on top of him then rolled over, pinning you between him and Bucky. “Going nowhere.”

Bucky chuckled. “Darlin’ we’re crazy about you, if you haven’t noticed. I know you like to talk about feelings and stuff but we’re doing this my way. You’re my best girl, he’s my best guy, we’ll work it out from there.”

You opened your mouth but your words betrayed you so instead you snuggled into their arms and enjoyed their warmth. Maybe this could work, maybe the three of you could find peace.

“Besides,” Steve yawned, “you negate our stupid.”

You giggled. Bucky slid a leg between yours and rested his hand on Steve’s chest.

Meanwhile deep inside your own chest your heart sang.

[togrowoldinv]

A True Love’s Kiss

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets brainwashed, it’s up to you to bring her back to her formal self. It’s not an easy task, but maybe your love for her is the key to unlocking her memories

Note: Woohoo Natasha. Just a fun (kinda angsty) little idea I came up with today. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

It’s a quiet morning as you run through the park. Memories of the last few years flash through your head, but you shake them away.

It’s been six months since you’ve heard from any of the Avengers. The so called ‘family’ left you out to dry the moment that things ended with you and Natasha.

In hindsight, it was a terrible idea to date the woman you worked with. But you knew you were in love with her and life felt too short to deny that.

You’re on the way back to your car when you sense it. A few moments later, two of your ‘old friends’ walk into your view.

“Y/n,” Steve begins. You don’t look at him.

“Come on, y/n. Look at us,” Clint adds.

“Why should I? I haven’t heard from any of you in months. All you did was side with Natasha,” you say bitterly.

“We’re sorry,” Steve says. You hate that it really seems like he means it. “Things got messy and we weren’t there for you.”

“Understatement of the century,” you remark.

You decide you’ve had enough of this. You move to open the car door but are stopped short by Clint’s next words.

“It’s Natasha,” Clint says. “She’s been compromised and we think the only person she’ll talk to is you.”

You sigh.

“And why do you think that?” You ask.

“We’ve tried everything. It’s our last idea,” Steve says. His tone has a sadness to it. “Will you come with us? Please. For Nat?”

You don’t reply, but you simply grab a bag of clothes from your car and walk closer to Steve and Clint. They’ll take that as a yes.

After walking to the quinjet, Clint takes the reins while Steve explains to you what happened to Natasha.

“She’s not herself. None of us have been able to stop her from these missions she’s been on,” he explains. “It seems like it could be the red room again. Like they’ve brainwashed her.”

“How did this even happen? How did she get that far out of reach in the first place?” You ask.

Steve hesitates to answer.

“Tell her,” Clint says.

“Tell me what?”

“Y/n, when you and Natasha broke up she went into hiding,” Steve says. “You never heard from us because we’ve been busy trying to find her. Now that we have, we have to figure out how to bring her in.”

“We found her in Russia,” Steve continues. “She’s good at what she does, you know that. But her heartbreak made her incredibly vulnerable. Even before she left the Avengers, her focus was somewhere else. Probably on how she broke your heart.”

“So this is my fault?” You wonder aloud. You don’t know if that makes you angry or sad. Maybe both.

“No,” Steve says. “It’s no one’s fault. Nat chose to leave.”

“But she’s not choosing to act like this,” Clint says. “I can tell. I can almost bring her out of it when I mention my family. And since she’s in love with you-“

“Was,” you correct him. “She was. Not anymore.”

“Right,” Clint says noncommittally. “We hope once she sees you, she’ll snap out of it.”

“So all of this is based on a hope?” You ask.

“Well, yeah,” Steve says.

“Great,” you say sarcastically. You stand up and push your way to the back of the jet to sit alone.

Truthfully, you’ve imagined reuniting with Natasha a million times. In your fantasy, she would show up at your door in the pouring rain with flowers and a romcom style apology for how she hurt you.

But this reuniting will be no romcom. You can tell from the way Steve can’t really meet your eyes that it’s bad. He cares for Natasha as deeply as you and Clint do. You can sense his fear. And Clint’s.

“We’re here,” Clint announces, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Where’s here?” You ask. You look out the front and notice the landscape is not the Avengers compound where you thought you were heading.

“There’s no time to prepare,” Steve says. “You can do this, y/n. Approach the house carefully and expect resistance. We’ll back you up but if Nat sees us we’re sure she’ll be quicker to turn against you.”

“Here’s coms,” Clint says, handing you a piece for your ear.

“Okay. Here goes nothing,” you say, taking a deep breath.

You step out of the quinjet and walk over one hundred paces to where Natasha is supposedly staying. As you expected, she doesn’t answer the front door when you knock.

Instead, you’re struck in the back of the knee. She effectively brings you down to the ground. Her legs straddle your waist. Your breath is taken away in more ways than one.

She looks beautiful yet sad. You try to shake off the fact that you’re seeing her for the first time in so long and focus on the way she’s crushing your ribs.

“Natasha,” you say.

“You don’t know me,” Nat says.

“I used to,” you answer. That throws her off briefly and you manage to squirm free. Natasha catches up fast and pins you against the door this time.

“What do you want?” Natasha asks. She feels an odd attraction to you. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to help you,” you say.

Natasha punches the wall behind you and wraps her hand around your neck.

“Okay, you don’t like that answer,” you whimper out.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Natasha commands.

You bring your arm up to pull hers away from your throat but she doesn’t stop. You plead with her with your eyes and once again she hesitates long enough for you to slip away.

She pulls her gun on you, but waits to shoot. You hold your hands up in surrender. You try again to make her remember you.

“Natasha, please,” you beg for her to relent. “You know me and I know you. It’s me, y/n.”

She doesn’t appear to have any recollection, so you go deeper.

“You love peanut butter sandwiches,” you say. “And you secretly love M&Ms but only the red ones even though they all taste the same.”

“I-“

“And you get up every morning and go for a run not because you love running but because you like to see the world before it becomes too loud and unsteady,” you continue. “And you love me. Or at least, you used to.”

“I don’t- I’m not who you think I am,” Natasha says.

“Yes you are,” you argue back.

“I’m not,” she says. Her voice breaks. You feel like you’re making progress.

“Natasha, baby, please,” you say.

She’s fighting her internal turmoil. Her objective is to take down anyone in her way.

“Y/n, get out of there,” you hear Steve in your ear.

You don’t dare reply. She’ll shoot if she thinks she’s surrounded.

“You’re an Avenger,” you say. “You’re a friend. You’re a sister. You are an aunt to Clint’s kids. You’re the love of my life.”

Natasha’s hand shakes. She thinks she knows you, but she has a mission.

You look into her eyes as she aims at your chest. Steve and Clint run towards you knowing what’s about to happen but it’s too late.

Natasha fires the weapon and you feel a lot of pain before you feel absolutely nothing. Steve hits Nat with a tranquilizer before she can shoot him and Clint as well.

The next thing you remember is waking up in the medbay at the compound.

“Hey,” Steve greets you. “You’re okay.”

“Where’s Nat?” You ask, sitting up.

“She’s detained,” he says. “And asking for you.”

“What?”

“Welcome to the world again,” Tony interrupts as he enters the room. “Dr. Cho fixed your wound up perfectly as always.”

“Oh,” you say, remembering why you’re here. The ache in your shoulder becomes more noticeable when you try to move it. “I need to see her.”

“No can do, buckaroo,” Tony says. “We’ve got Hill in there talking to her.”

“You mean interrogating her,” you correct him.

“Maybe,” Tony replies. “But we need to know whose side she’s on now.”

“Steve, please you have to let me see her,” you say. “She recognized me. She just- she needed to continue her mission.”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “It’s too dangerous.”

“She already shot me,” you say dryly. “What else could happen?”

Steve relents. After a couple of hours of resting, you get dressed the best you can, putting your arm in a sling.

You approach the detainment area carefully. Natasha is sitting at a table with her hands cuffed to it when you enter.

“Take those off,” you instruct the guard.

“I’m not supposed-“

“Just do it,” you say.

“Ma’am-“

“Take them off,” Steve says over the intercom.

The guard complies and unlocks the cuffs. You frown at the way they’ve rubbed her wrists raw.

“Hey,” you say to Natasha.

“How’s your shoulder?” She asks.

“Fine. Why didn’t you shoot to kill me? I know you could’ve,” you say.

“So we’re jumping right in,” Nat remarks. “You said you know me and you told me facts that no one knows. I needed to talk to you more. I needed you alive.”

“Do you know me?” You ask.

“I don’t,” she says. You can’t help but frown. “But you do feel vaguely familiar.”

“You’ve had your memories of us taken from you,” you say. “Probably by the Red Room.”

“What did you just say?” Natasha asks. She stands up and pushes you against the wall.

“Nat,” you say. Your shoulder is throbbing.

“We’re coming in to help,” Steve says urgently.

“No wait! I can do this,” you shout. “Natasha please, you wouldn’t hurt me. Not again.”

“Stop acting like you know who I am!” She shouts. “How did you get that name? The Red Room? How did you know?”

“Because Natasha we dated for over a year,” you say. “You told me everything.”

“No,” she says. “I would- I would remember if I had loved you.”

“Natasha, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Stop,” she cries out. “Stop. You don’t- stop it.”

“I do. I love you. Please, I love you. Find yourself in me again, Nat,” you beg her.

Natasha’s eyes fill with tears. It’s beginning to click. You think of the last effort you can make to help her remember it all.

You lean toward her and pull her in for a hug. Your good arm goes around her waist and pulls her in. Natasha doesn’t hug you back but she doesn’t pull away either.

“Please, Natasha. I need you to come back to me,” you whimper into her neck.

It feels so familiar to her. Holding you in her arms as you bury your face into her neck, but she still can’t figure out who you are to her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, pulling away from your embrace. “I just don’t remember you.”

You nod in understanding. She doesn’t know why but she doesn’t flinch when you place your hands on the sides of her face. Her cheeks feel hot under your touch.

“Can I try?” You ask her. She gets what you mean.

“Okay,” she says.

You lean in and kiss her lips softly. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make Natasha’s heart flutter. And yours too. Under different circumstances, it would be an amazing reunion kiss.

“Y/n?” She asks when you pull away. There’s a light of recognition in her eyes.

“Yeah,” you say.

“Detka,” she begins. You could cry at the pet name. “I don’t- are you okay? Shit, this is my fault.”

She tries to inspect your wound, but you just hug her again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so so sorry that I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I did when I broke your heart,” she says regretfully.

“Natasha-“

“Let me just,” she interrupts. “Let me apologize. I’m so sorry, y/n. I love you. I haven’t stopped. It’s just I got so protective of you that I couldn’t let you go on missions. I was holding you back.”

“You weren’t holding me back, Nat. I understand that you’re protective over me, but I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” she says. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Let’s go home, Natasha. We can talk about this over a cup of hot chocolate,” you suggest.

“Yeah. Let’s go home,” Nat says.

You both ignore the other Avenger’s requests that you stay at the compound and they evaluate Nat’s situation and your injury.

The hope of a true love’s kiss curing Natasha seems to be really true. Maybe fairytales are real. Maybe they’re not. But you both love each other and you were always meant to end up together again.

[biteofcherry]

Does mafia Steve from Nesting like his wife's pregnant belly?

Like? Steve loves it! He's obsessed with it. He puts his hand on her belly whenever he can 😊

Nesting

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings for the part below: pregnancy; breeding kink; pregnant belly appreciation; fluff; a bit of smut; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers;

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Magnifica." Steve murmurs in awe, his warm breath brushing your cheek as he leans his chin on your shoulder to watch his hand roam over your pregnant belly.

You're sprawled in bed, Steve leaning against the headboard and you sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest. You've been watching a baking show on the ridiculously huge tv screen while Steve fed you bites of fruit and some chocolates.

That's until his focus switched to your belly.

He traces both hands over the flimsy fabric of the pink babydoll you're wearing, resting his palms over the swell of you, chasing little flutters beneath your skin.

He doesn't do it only in bed, though it's mostly where he gets enough time to fully immerse in his fascination with your pregnant body. But Steve touches you whenever he can - keeping an arm around you and a hand spread possessively over your big belly when you're out; lifting your shirt up and peppering your belly with kisses when you're lounging at home. Any given opportunity, really.

Occasionally his focus would switch to your tits, which filled out more and become the core of your latest torment - they're ridiculously sensitive, getting you shaking in arousal with a mere touch.

"You should always look like that." Steve states, his big palm spread over the center of your belly.

"Like a huge whale?" You snort, trying to focus on the cakes that are being currently made on the tv and not on the way Steve's touch makes your sensitive skin tingle.

"Whales can't compare." Steve chuckles, sliding one of his hands a little upwards. "They're not as hot and glowing as you."

He cups your breast - your nipple instantly stiffening under his touch - and you let out a tiny gasp.

"It's only sweat and anti-stretch marks oil." You huff; lately you were becoming more self-conscious and self-depreciating.

"The oil maybe makes your skin softer," Steve pulls down the strap of your nightie and squeezes your exposed breast. Jolt of arousal zaps straight to your clit. "But it's the pregnancy that makes you so sensitive and extra responsive."

"It's my seed growing in your belly that causes it." His voice drops into that low, deep timbre which makes your pussy pulse in anticipation.

Steve starts pulling the fabric of your babydoll upwards, his hand quickly sneaks beneath it to relish in the skin-on-skin contact.

"You are amazing." Steve turns his head to kiss your cheek. "Your body is amazing. It's creating life."

He starts mouthing kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

"And it takes me so well..." he growls, scraping his teeth over your shoulder.

Suddenly, in a swift yet gentle move, Steve pushes you forward.

He has you on your hands and knees before you manage to utter a single syllable of protest.

Steve nudges your thighs wider apart. You comply instantly, your body already buzzing with need. You kind of hate how quickly you rouse nowadays. Not like Steve had much trouble making you drip in rapid time without your pregnancy hormones raging.

"Already so wet for me." Steve hums, pleased, as his fingers slide between your folds.

"Or maybe, my little wife..." he guides the leaking tip of his cock to your entrance - "You're always ready for me?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. He clasps one hand on your shoulder to keep you in place and rests the other hand on your belly as he pushes into your cunt in one, firm stroke.

"Gonna keep you like this for a long time, little bird." He groans in delight as your walls flutter around him. "For as long as your body can take it."

[lynlee494]

Source: DeviantArt

Artist: Brilcrist

[amarriageoftrueminds]

their job is just 𝔹𝔼𝔸ℂℍ 🌊🏖️🥵 

[hainethehero]

Steve x Bucky x Clint drabble...

"Why are you breakin' my heart?" Steve whimpers, tears in his ocean blue eyes.

Bucky shakes his head, running fingers through his hair impatiently. "Don't cry, doll. Please don't cry."

Steve swipes at his runny nose hastily, "No! Tell me what I did! Tell me what I did wrong!"

"Steve-"

"I did everything I could to get you back!" Steve wails, "I just got you back-"

"Darlin'-"

The blonde grabs a hold of Bucky's metal wrist and squeezes. "Just tell me what to do, Bucky. Tell me and I'll do it, please- please don't leave me, please-"

Bucky exhales heavily, his eyes stinging. "St- baby, you don't understand. I have to go-"

"Then take me with you," Steve interrupts, eyes wide and so full of hope, it breaks Bucky's own heart.

"Only one of us can go back, sweetheart," he explains gently, as if Steve didn't understand.

"You don't! You don't have to go, Bucky, please!"

Bucky makes a disapproving sound again. It's sickening to Steve's ears.

Steve hears himself crying- bawling, really- and it doesn't even sound like him. He's never heard himself so distraught and broken before. It's like the wailing cry of a dying animal. His throat burns from sobbing, his eyes are sore and blurry. Snot and tears run down his face.

Can Bucky not see just how sad he's making him?

Did Bucky even know that Steve's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest? Like it'd jump out at any second and leave him cold and dead in the wake of Bucky's absence?

"Stevie..."

"Jamie please, please please please please..."

"Please-!"

*

"Steve? Sweetheart, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

Steve's eyes pop open and he's suddenly back in Avengers Tower. His eyes are wet, tear tracks drying down his cheeks. His chest is heaving as if he'd just run a marathon. And his body feels paralyzed in abject fear.

A gentle hand strokes his face and caresses his jaw, petting him softly.

"It's okay," Bucky whispers, "only a dream, darlin."

Steve, still traumatized from his nightmare pushes Bucky away with a petulant growl. He curls up against the headboard, arms wrapped around his bent knees.

Clint, who's sleeping on the other side of Steve, startles awake from the sudden movement, eyes on high alert.

"Whas'at?"

Bucky stops for a few, totally confused at Steve pushing him away. He turns and flicks on the bedside lamp, setting the room in an incandescent glow. Clint winces and turns to put on his hearing aids.

"Steve?"

The blonde is still curled up in a tight ball, trembling from some imaginary cold. Bucky can hear the stifled hiccups and sniffles, a soft whining in the back of his throat. He crawls closer but doesn't touch Steve for fear he'd push away from him again.

"Baby boy, talk to me. What's gotten you so upset?"

Steve shakes his head stubbornly. Then he mutters, "You left me..."

Bucky frowns and shares a confused look with Clint who still looks delirious from being woken up so abruptly. "I'm- I'm right here sweetheart."

"Yeah baby," the archer grunts, voice rough from sleep, "Bucky ain't going nowhere."

Steve shakes his head harder and finally looks at them with a teary glare. His blue eyes are steely and electric as he points an accusatory finger at Bucky.

"Daddy left... said he didn't wanna stay... went back to-" a sob escapes from Steve's mouth and he buries his face in his palms again, whining like a kicked puppy.

"Went back to what baby?"

"Brooklyn... when I was smaller..." Steve mumbles through loud sniffles.

Clint cuts Bucky with a disappointed look as if Bucky could control what Steve dreamed about. Then he leans against the headboard with Steve and wraps the blonde in his arms. Bucky tries not to feel the sting of rejection when Steve willingly accepts Clint's touch.

"Oh come here, sweetpea," he murmurs, giving Steve's temple a smacking kiss that makes him squeak in slight amusement.

Bucky can't help but feel a little bitter at the dream version of himself in Steve's head. Why'd he have to go and ruin things, dammit?

"You know Bucky loves you, right?" Clint asks their boy.

Steve goes suspiciously quiet before nodding twice, face still buried in Clint's bare chest.

"And you know he'd never leave you, right?"

"But-" Steve starts, the feisty little fucker, but Clint gently admonishes his outburst.

"Ah ah, Daddy's talkin'."

Steve bites his lip, eyes big and cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Clint continues, "It was a nightmare, darlin. Scary? Sure. But real? Nah, Bucky's right here with you and me. Look at em."

Steve slowly pulls himself off of Clint's chest to look at Bucky, who's still looking a bit wary but more concerned than anything. He offers Steve a soft, encouraging smile and stretches out his metal hand on the bed. Steve's immediately drawn to the movement, blinking at the metal appendages thoughtfully. Then his brows furrow and his lips quiver- a telltale sign that he's about to burst into tears again.

Bucky almost pulls away but in an instant, he's got a lap full of a sobbing super soldier whose arms and legs wrap tightly around his body like a clingy spider.

"Thought you wanted to leave me for- ...for when I was tiny," he sniffs sadly.

Bucky absolutely melts and squeezes Steve tighter. "Oh baby doll, you're the same punk I loved all those years ago. Wouldn't make sense going back to the past when I've got you right here."

Steve mumbles something in response but it's all garbled and doesn't make sense. Clint chuckles and fondly pets Steve's downy blonde hair.

"Never gonna happen, sweetness. You're stuck with your Daddies forever."

Steve mutters out a quick, "'kay," and nods his head a couple times as if trying to reassure himself. Then he pouts and says, "Love you," in a small voice, pecking Bucky's lips shyly.

"Aw, you're so sweet, baby doll," Bucky praises, which makes Steve blush like crazy. He ducks his head and grumbles into Bucky's chest, sniffing.

Clint grins, then rolls his eyes. "Alright baby boy, let's get you tucked in to bed."

Bucky arranges Steve off his lap and back in his former sleeping space between himself and Clint. The blonde, clad only in soft lacy underwear and fuzzy blue socks snuggles back into Clint's waiting arms, while Bucky presses their chests together. He wraps his arms around Bucky's middle, while Bucky gently guides Steve's head to rest on his ample bicep. Steve's nose brushes the man's stubble, inhaling his woodsy scent and sighing in absolute comfort of being sandwiched by his Daddies.

"Good night baby," Bucky whispers into his hair, while Clint slips a warm hand past the delicate waistband of Steve's lacy underwear. He carefully avoids Steve's little prick and just rubs his belly in slow, comforting motions.

Steve doesn't have any more nightmares that night.

[tea-stained-notes]

Steve Rogers x OFC - Waiting On a Miracle, Chapter 4

After catching an infamous serial killer in the act, Julie Castillo is in line for the witness protection program. She is sent to a temporary safe house with U.S. Marshal Steve Rogers to protect her. Both of them scarred by trauma and tragedy, they find solace in each other. But how far will they dare to go?

It's been ages, I'm sorry. At least I've been procrastinating this so long that it's once more cosy cabin fic season lol

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the future!

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

Series warnings: violence, death, angst, trauma, smut

Chapter warnings: anxiety, light trauma

Chapter word count: 2350

Song(s) referenced: Waiting In the Wings (Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure)

As the days passed it became increasingly impossible not to get to know each other. After all, we were all we had. Natasha had dropped by with new groceries and stayed to chat for a bit, but while Steve and I were in our own little world, she had a hundred things other than my safety on her plate. Staying in my small room all day wasn’t an inviting prospect and leaving the cabin proved too great a risk with only Steve there to protect me. What I hadn’t expected was that he would care for me in a way that must have been above his pay grade. When the nightmares finally caught up to me, forcing me awake with a scream and sending me to the door to escape the terrors seemingly living under my bed, he was already waiting in the hallway. Calmly talking me down from my panic and gently guiding me to the kitchen for some tea. And during the day his sheer presence kept my anxiety at bay with almost miraculous ease.

As the endless hours passed we grew more and more familiar with each other. We talked about anything and everything from our views on female reproductive rights (which were luckily the same) to our favourite Disney movies, mine being Moana and Steve’s Beauty and the Beast. “Really?” “Yeah, I prefer the old hand-animated movies. Plus, the songs? They’re timeless.” I nodded reluctantly while biting into one of the brownies Steve had just baked. “And like any sane person I’m obviously a sucker for that library scene,” he said with a smile so disarming I almost choked on my bite. “You do live up to that admission,” I croaked out. Steve had blazed through a whole stack of books over the past week. The shelves housed a pretty great collection and for the first few days I had been glad to have some time to read as well. But I found myself more and more distracted — by being cooped up inside while the surrounding nature looked so inviting through the windows, by the restlessness from the unfamiliar inactivity and wondering about the people I had left behind, and embarrassingly by Steve. His warmth and genuine interest in everything that went on inside my head still caught me off guard. “Great, now I wanna watch Disney movies.” I cast a disappointed look at the old TV that only offered a measly handful of channels. “How about we ask Natasha to get us some DVDs and a player up here?” I jumped up immediately, on the hunt for pen and paper. “Let’s make a list!” My enthusiasm earned a soft chuckle from Steve. “Honestly, how come we don’t have that here anyway? No Smart TV I understand but DVDs?” I made my way back to the couch, sinking into the cushions a few feet away from him. He shrugged. “This place is meant for short stays. We rehouse people if they have to go into long-term protection.” “Fine, but such little entertainment? What if you can’t stand the other person and don’t wanna talk to them?” “Well, luckily you and I don’t have that problem.” Steve’s gentle smile made my heart flutter. I quickly glued my eyes to the notepad in my lap and brandished the pencil. “Hit me then. Besides Belle shitting on the entire townsfolk, explaining the plot of her book to some random sheep, and not eating a single bite throughout a whole song about food.” He ignored my comment. “Hercules.” “God, that one’s a hot mess but you gotta love it.” “Baboom. Name is Hades, lord of the dead. Hi, howya doin'?” I stared at him in disbelief for a second, then broke out into laughter. “Okay, that was a seriously good impression.” “Don’t sound so surprised,” he retorted with mock offence, “Like I said, I did do theatre at school.” “I know, but…” “What?” I studied him. Lounging on the couch in jeans and a knitted sweater, relaxed and comfortable. “When I met you at the station… You seemed like a very different person.” “So did you.” He gave me a crooked grin. “Maybe we’re just very different people when we’re in the city.” “Maybe first impressions are just stupid.” “Also that.”

We worked on the list for a while, moving from animation to mini series, dramas and comedies. I wondered how many of these we would actually make it through, until this surreal bubble would finally burst. When I would lose this strangely wonderful companionship. Something pulled in my chest at the mere thought. I set the notepad down and let my eyes wander through the room until they landed on the piano. “You do that a lot,” Steve said quietly. “What?” “Look at the piano.” I swallowed hard, feeling his intent gaze on me. “I wouldn’t mind you playing. Whatever you want.” “No, thank you.” Silence fell over us for a while. Not the easy silence I had grown used to with him, this one was suffocating. When he spoke again his voice was even more tender. “That song you were singing the other day. About… waiting in the wings?” My throat went dry. “Was that from the show you’re working on?” “No. Uh, it’s from a spin-off TV show about Rapunzel, you know, from Tangled.” “Huh.” Steve raised his eyebrows. “I had no idea they write such good songs for cartoons.” “Well, they brought back Alan Menken and Glenn Slater for the show, those two don’t fuck around. And Eden Espinosa sings this one, she’s pretty famous for playing Elphaba in Wicked, so you know what she brings to the table. Jeremy Jordan sang a few songs for the show as well, you don’t tend to hire him for some shitty run-of-the-mill pop tunes.” He stared at me for a moment. “That was… a lot of names.” “Never mind,” I smiled. The tension had almost left my body when his next question brought it back in full force. “It means a lot to you though, right? That song?” I swallowed thickly, the paper crumpling in my clammy hands. “Let’s just say, it hits a little too close to home.” “Hmm.” Steve nodded. “I mean, it’s not actually about theatre of course,” I fumbled, “it’s just a metaphor.” “But it’s about theatre for you.” Another endless pause stretched between us. “I’m sorry,” he eventually murmured. “You don’t have to tell me.” “I think I want to.” My admission took us both by surprise. I had been keeping up my walls for so long, with Finn being the only one who actually knew my entire story. But now I was almost craving to tear them down for this man before me. He settled back into the cushions, giving me an encouraging smile. I cleared my throat a few times, my stomach and fingers in knots.

“My mom was from Mexico. She moved to New York all by herself at nineteen. She’d been obsessed with the stage all her life, starring in every school production and constantly putting on shows for her family at home. She put herself through AMDA on a scholarship—“ I stopped myself. “Sorry, that’s the American—“ “Musical and Dramatic Academy.” Steve smiled gently. “Some theatre kids from my high school applied.” “Right. She was gifted and relentless. Even when the industry kept putting spokes in her wheel, denying her roles with bullshit excuses and, well, very thinly-veiled racism. I wish I could say things are nothing like that today but… Anyway, she eventually got her foot in the door with some minor parts and then one day broke out as Diana Morales in A Chorus Line. And she was incredible. I mean, I only ever got to see some grainy footage from the time but… God, you should’ve seen her.” His eyes shone with light warmth. “Was she even better than you?” “Definitely.” It came out sounding more bitter than I had intended. “One day she met my dad through a school music program. He was teaching high school back then. And when I came along I didn’t really have a choice but to be into music. Something was always playing, either from the stereo or my parents’ instruments. I was into the guitar but my mom insisted I learn the piano as well. She always said, ‘I don’t care what else you learn to play, as soon as you’re decent at the piano. It’s the best basis.’” “Was she right?” “Unfortunately yes,” I smirked. “And learned to love the piano. But my real love was musical theatre. She never forced that, I simply fell for it, just like she had as a child. So both my parents taught me at home and I signed up for lessons in singing, acting, dancing. It was basically a full-time job outside of school.” “That sounds intense.” “It was. But I couldn’t get enough, I loved nothing more than learning new techniques and routines, running lines, hanging out with other theatre kids. For years it was heaven.” Steve’s smile faded. “What happened then?” “In my last year of high school I started auditioning for drama schools.” I took a deep breath. “And I choked. Every single time.” “Why?” The word came out as soft as the rain pattering against the windows. For a moment I could hardly breathe with the urge to fall into Steve, to bury my face in his chest and never come up for air. I roughly cleared my throat. “Pressure, I guess. I had been in countless productions, but as long as I’d been a kid, it had always been a game somehow. Now I was facing the big leagues, my entire future depended on those few minutes in front of the committee and—“ I sank my teeth into my bottom lip. “And they all knew my mother.” “So, they expected you to be perfect.” “Of course they did.” A strangled laugh escaped me. “She always bragged about how much promise I showed. And she wasn’t wrong. I was good for my age. The stage had been home all my life. But suddenly it became hell.” Steve’s hand found mine and my heart jumped at the gentle contact. I stared at his thumb as it caressed along my knuckles. Back and forth, just like the tug between panic and comfort in my chest. “That must have been incredibly difficult,” he finally murmured. I nodded, still choked up. “My dad was pretty relaxed about it. He kept saying I could just focus on something else for a while and return to theatre when I felt ready. But Mom… She tried so hard to hide it but her disappointment broke me. I can’t imagine how it felt for her. All those countless hours teaching me, watching me learn and perform, encouraging me, supporting me. She’d always believed that I would be a star. Had made me believe I would be.” Steve didn’t say a word, just looked at me with endless sympathy, his hand a warm tether to the world.

“After a while I couldn’t even try anymore. I had panic attacks on the way to auditions, I barely slept, I almost failed my finals. So, I gave up. I worked some odd jobs for a while, trying to flush that dream out of my system, to find something else I could be good at. But as much as it hurt, I couldn’t stay away. I trained as a deputy stage manager and in some ironic way made it to Broadway after all.” “And what about your mom?” I shrugged. “She tried to be happy for me. But I think she could never really see past the waste of my education.” “Julie—“ “And then she died.” The room feel silent. I could feel Steve’s eyes on my as I tried to blink away the tears in mine. “Heart attack. Everyone said it was just stress, she had been extremely busy with work while doing all sorts of charity work and giving lessons. But I wondered… I just couldn’t help but think that my failure—“ “Julie, no.” Steve took my hand in both of his, his grip as urgent as his tone. “Don’t you dare believe something like that.” I inhaled deeply, wiping at the tears that had spilled over at last. “Sometimes I wonder whether I should just leave New York behind. Whether the joy the theatre still brings me sometimes is worth the constant reminders that I'm not really part of that world. Not in the way I want to be. The way she wanted me to be. Most of the time it all just hurts.” “I get that part,” Steven said quietly, half-lost in his own thoughts. I studied him for a moment. “You left Chicago for a good reason, huh?” He swallowed, then nodded almost imperceptibly. “The thing is: The pain doesn’t leave you, it leaves with you. You’ll just keep carrying it everywhere.” Once more, silence fell upon us. I was caught somewhere between the relief of finally having opened up and the wondering about Steve’s past which was still mostly a mystery to me. “Have you ever auditioned again?”, he suddenly asked. “I’ve tried a couple more times. But I never made it to the actual stage. I probably never will.” “Is it even possible to fully give up on something that feels like your life’s purpose?” He seemed to direct the question at the room more than me. We both stared out the window for a while, following the raindrops’ paths down the pane. Eventually he withdrew his hand from mine to stand up and an instant chill ran through my body. I had grown dangerously used to his touch. “I’m gonna make coffee. Would you like some more tea with those brownies?” “That would be great,” I said, still slightly off kilter. On his way to the kitchen he turned to face me once more. “Julie?” I looked up at him expectantly. “Thank you for trusting me with your story.” He said it as if I’d ever really had a choice.

[timidpumpkin]

Can you do a stucky little reader? She wakes up sick ( flu symptoms) and they take care of her. Angst and fluff with cute nicknames. 🥺🥺❤️❤️

You had me at angst…and fluff…and cute nicknames…okay you had me at the whole thing🙈🙈💞💞heheh i hope you like it!! I set it in little light universe🫶🫶❤️💙❤️💙

(pictures are not my own)

More Than Anything (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, Implied forced age regression, Sick reader, Meanie bucky, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames.

Word count: 4.2k

It hurts.

“Mornin’ Doll,” Bucky says after flipping your lights on. The illumination now burning your vision makes you pull the covers over your head as you flip over, hiding from the bright room. You hear him making his way to your bedside. The mattress beneath dips you sideways a bit as he sits beside your dormant form. 

“Come on now, time to get up.” he pulls lightly at the duvet covering you. He can tell you’re gripping it with all you can. Though he could easily unveil you, he decides against it, knowing that ripping the blanket from your delicately curled-up fingers might hurt them. Instead, he leans his body over yours, one hand placed on the other side of your hip as he hovers above you. He dips his head close to where yours is concealed by the warm blanket. “Don’t make me carry you down there,” he whispers teasingly, figuring it’s likely what you’re hoping for. 

Instead, you only groan in response, mumbling something about getting a little more sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon request from you, and Bucky knew how much babies needed their sleep. Usually, he would let it slide, loving how adorable you look in dreamland, but he can’t. Not this time. 

It was almost noon. He peers around your room. It’s not the cleanest, but it looks pristine compared to the current state of your playroom. He had asked you yesterday to clean it, noticing the myriad of toys and their respective accessories scattered across the carpeted floor.

You, preoccupied with dressing your doll so she could ‘go on vacation,’ promised him you’d do it after dinner. Bucky apprehensively agreed, and even let you fall through on your assigned chore after you quickly fell asleep on the couch, much before your usual bedtime. Figuring you played your little heart out, he carried you upstairs and told himself to remind you in the morning.

Having already slept almost twelve hours, he knows if he lets your slumber last any longer, you’ll never sleep tonight. He sighs.

“I know you want more babygirl, but Dada already made breakfast and lunch. You need to come eat,” he waits a few moments for you to respond, but you don’t let out a sound or groan. “I'm serious, Doll, time to get up,” he states, standing up, hoping it’ll prompt you to follow. You peel your sheets back to look at him.

“Daddy…” you whine, unsure of what you're asking for. All you knew is that it hurt. Everything. It wasn’t just that the lights were too bright. It wasn't just that you were sleepy. Your whole body felt…bad. Just bad. You couldn’t exactly explain it, but you did know that moving didn’t seem like it would help. 

Bucky only looks at you, unsatisfied. You try sitting up, which you find is more difficult than it should have been. Once you’re upright, you feel pressure in your head. Your cheeks and forehead feel as if there's unwanted gunk smooshed inside. It makes you want to lie back down immediately. 

“m’ tired daddy,” you say groggily. 

“That’s ‘cause you slept so much,” Bucky knew messing with your established sleep pattern too much would likely make you feel more cranky than it seemed you already were. So, as much as he knew you didn’t want to, he believed it would be for the best to make you get up.

As you start to get out of bed, it feels as though the air is made of thick jello with every movement you make.

“Daddyyy…ughhhh” you groan unhappily at him, and kick at your sheets frustrated that you’re being forced to move.

Bucky’s eyes narrow at your agitated action, never liking that kind of behavior from you.

“Don’t be that way, Doll. it’s too early for that,” he warns.

“Mmm,” you groan again. “noo, don’t wanna, wanna sleep!” you say crankily, flopping back down on the bed again with your arms crossed to prove your point. That point being: you. did. not. want. to. move.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and takes a deep breath, debating internally on how to approach your grouchiness. He decides, only since it’s so early—for you—that he’ll go easy on you, hoping this attitude will fade as you wake up. 

“No more sleep, but,” he leans down closer to you, “if you promise to be a good girl all day, Daddy will carry you down there.” he offers as a compromise.

Truthfully, you’d still rather lay in bed, but you knew you had to do what Daddy asked. More so, you didn’t want him to be upset with you, so you nod your head in agreement. 

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Okay daddy, what?” he questions.

“I-i’ll be good,” you say, having a hard time remembering what he asked. He slides his hands under you and begins to pick you up. Once you’re in his hold, you quickly let your head fall to his shoulder, wishing you could now sleep there instead.

“And you’ll eat your breakfast this morning?” he asks into your heavy head. You nod into his neck and mumble a ‘yes daddy’ assentingly.

Once he places you in your chair downstairs, Steve greets you with a bright smile, and a kiss to your forehead after setting down your food. When he does, he notices how hot your skin feels against his.

“You feel warm angel, you feel okay, babygirl?” he asks, gently checking the temperature of your cheeks with the back of his hand.  

“Oh, she just got up, she’s probably still warm from sleep,” Bucky answers before you get the chance to speak. “Somebody really didn’t want to get up this morning,” he pokes. 

“Ohh,” Steve coos, “you still sleepy, babygirl?” he asks. You shake your head weakly, eyes drifting closed. You think about telling him how bad you feel, but you don’t really have the energy to try to explain it.

Instead, you decide to focus on eating, hoping the sooner you finish, the quicker you can return to resting. However, the very first swallow of your otherwise pleasant meal scratches at your throat. You still try to get some down, thinking the pain will go away if you keep trying. When it becomes evident that won't be the case, you poke at your plate and begin to speak up.

“Daddy, m’done,” you push your plate away, “my thro-” 

“Uh-uh, a few more bites,” Bucky pushes the plate back in front of you, knowing you’ll never feel more awake with an empty stomach. “And after you finish, you can go clean your playroom,” You look at him puzzled.

“But-”

“No buts. I already asked you to do it yesterday,” he explains, not looking up from whatever he happened to be reading at the table with you. Your face twists in confusion for a few moments before you remember how tired you felt last night. Truthfully, the fatigue was all your body could focus on, making you completely forget about the room.

“But daddy-”

“What did I just say?” he looks up at you.

“I’m tired!” you snap at him, voice raised high and whiney as you bemoan at him. You cross your arms and huff grumpily back into the chair.

“I don’t care if you’re tired. Do what Daddy says, or you can say goodbye to your playroom for the next week” he threatens. Not wanting to get out of bed was one thing, but directly disobeying him with that attitude was another. 

Still, you only groan angrily in response, not feeling like you could do anything right now. 

“Ugh!” you flop your head down on the table dramatically, hiding between your arms. Bucky lets your stew there for a moment before speaking up.

“Are you gonna finish eating or not?” He asks eventually, eerily calm. You remain silent, unsure of what to say. “Fine, you can go clean your room now,” You look up to him at that, suddenly confused and disoriented. Surely your daddy should know how bad you feel. 

“But Daddy! I don't wanna now! I don't feel g-”

“Did I ask if you wanted to? I don’t care if you don't feel like it. Now. Or no playroom for a month.” your jaw drops, your muddled brain beyond baffled on why he’s being so harsh. Still, you know he means it. It wasn’t outside his usual punishment by any means. You almost think you should consider yourself lucky he hasn’t bent you over his knee already with how you’re fighting him.

Feeling defeated, you drag your body out of your chair. Before you can go, he grabs your arm with a warning.

“and quit with the attitude.” 

“Yes, Daddy” you squeak lamentably, noticing how your throat hurts as you speak.

You drag your feet upstairs, physically resisting your legs from stomping as you go. Anger and confusion mix together in you as you think about what he said. You didn’t want to be grounded from your playroom. So many of your favorite things were in there. And, again, more importantly, you didn't want to make daddy upset with you. You never liked it when he was. You always tried so hard to be a good girl for them. But right now, it was so hard. In actuality, what you wanted more than anything was for him to cuddle with you. You felt Daddy and Dada could always make you feel better. No matter what, you were convinced your Daddies loving embrace could cure you from any ailment. 

Maybe, you think, if you just cleaned your room like a good girl, you could ask to cuddle with him after. 

You try your hardest to ignore the pain that ignites at every move you make, but truthfully, you're already abnormally out of breath just from your quick walk up the stairs. The room feels uncomfortably chilly against your skin. 

After you get a small portion of the floor cleared, you decide to take a little break. You practically collapse beneath yourself, curling underneath the cozy play tent filled with askew fluffy pillows and dismayed blankets. You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’ll only rest for a few minutes…

“Angel?” Steve's voice echoes back at him from the loft balcony where you should easily be able to pick up his voice. He can’t hear you moving around. “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asks Bucky.

“She better. It’s where I told her to be.” he retorts disdainfully, hoping you're not again disobeying him by being somewhere else. 

Steve stills himself, and listens closely, he can tell you’re there, but your breathing doesn’t sound normal. 

Concerned, he makes his way upstairs. Bucky follows, recognizing Steve’s ‘something’s wrong’ face. 

Steve panics for a brief moment when he enters the empty but disarrayed room. Then he spots you. Your delicate form hidden amongst haphazardly arranged fabrics. He approaches you slowly, not wanting to startle you. 

He kneels down, overshadowing you as he gently caresses your cheek to wake you. 

“Babygirl?” he calls softly. Puffs of hot air escape your mouth. Labored breathing is all he can hear. All they can both hear. 

“Babygirl,” he calls again, shaking you slightly. To his relief, your eyes slowly open. They look sunken, tired, and devoid of their usual playful sparkle. 

“Dada…?” you question quietly. “m’cold” your murmur softly, eyes begging to be closed again. 

You’re not cold though. Not to Steve. You feel a million degrees too hot under his touch. 

“Babygirl…” he says for the third time, this time preparing to move you. “Dada’s gonna pick you up okay?” he explains, remaining calm so as to not worry you. “We're gonna go downstairs,” you feel limp in his arms, no different than if you were deep in sleep. But you are certainly awake, even if barely. He mumbles something to Bucky you don't make out, but his tone alone tells you he’s not happy.

Once you’re downstairs, he sets you on the kitchen counter. You don’t let go of him though, your body weight is leaned almost fully onto his.

“Can you sit up for me, babygirl?” he asks encouragingly, but gently. “Daddy and I are gonna check you out okay?” you groan a bit, still just feeling tired. 

“Here,” Bucky speaks up softly, snaking his arms around you, and taking Steve’s place in front of you. As you’re shifted from one body’s hold to another, it wakens you a bit. You almost go back to leaning fully onto his chest when you realize who’s holding you.

“Daddy?” you shift back a little to look up at him. One hand of his is resting at your hip, the other helping support the rest of your body.

“Hey, babydoll…” he says softly, voice drifting, and stomach sinking as he sees how sick you look.

He almost wishes he could somehow shut his hearing out. Your heartbeat is quicker than usual. He knew it better than his own. How it sounded while you slept, when you’d play, how it picks up when you laugh, giggling for breath and telling him ‘daddy, stop it tickles’ with the brightest grin lighting up your face. Now…now he can’t stand it. It’s thumping too fast. Faster than it should be for when his little girl hasn’t moved an inch herself. 

Why didn’t he notice it before? He thinks back to how heavily you held onto him when he carried you this morning. How quickly he was to interrupt you. He realizes you probably tried to tell him. And he didn’t listen. Even worse, he made you clean. Guilt seeps deep into his guts as he remembers how funny your voice sounded today. 

“Daddy,” you break him from his thoughts, he sees tears beginning to form in your doleful eyes. “Daddy m’sorry,” you breathe in sharply, beginning to cry “m’sorry didn't f-finish-i just-i gots so tireds daddy I’m-I'm sorry,” you sob pathetically, knowing you’ve disappointed him. 

Bucky’s face falls. 

All you had to do was one simple thing, and you couldn't even do that right. You weren’t being a good girl by disobeying him like that. Even if you felt bad, you feel you should have tried harder.

“Doll, no-” you cry sorries to him more, your own hands reaching to cover your shameful face. He catches them before you do, gently taking them into his and guiding them around his neck for you so you can be more level with his gaze. “Babydoll, look at daddy,” He pulls you, hands drawing you closer so he’s flush with you in between your legs. Needing to feel your skin, his right hand tenderly guides your face to look at him. “I’m not upset with you. Daddy’s not upset with you,” he reassures, silently pleading for you not to cry. 

“But-but-I didn’t cleans-I-I just-I-I not good girl,” you sob miserably at the admission, never wanting to be bad for him.

“My little girl, my sweet girl, no, please no” he assures, hating how skewed shut your eyes are. “That’s not true, Doll, it’s just not. Daddy…” he carefully wipes at the wet tears on your cheek, “Daddy should have known.” he admits shamefully. You finally blink your eyes open at him, a timidly unsure expression written on your face. “I should have known. You...you tried to tell daddy huh?” he takes one of your hands and gives it soft kisses. 

“N-n’your not mad at me?” you sniffle as your cries begin to slow down.

“No, Doll, never.” he couldn’t be, never for something like this. His mouth opens again, he wants to tell you how sorry he is. He’s the one who should be, but he only finds his own tongue twisted, unsure of how to fully express his remorse. Before he has time to puzzle the words together, Steve interrupts, thermometer in hand.

“Open wide, babygirl,” you do as he says. “tongue up,” he mimics the motion for you. The cold metal feels uncomfortable in your mouth. They must know this as Bucky squeezes your hand soothingly, and Steve tells you ‘just a little longer’ with a sympathetic gaze as he holds your jaw with the hand that’s not keeping the thermometer in place. 

When it beeps, Steve removes it and frowns when he reads the displayed numbers. 

“Can you tell us what hurts, princess?” Steve asks. You point your hand towards your neck. “Your throat?” he confirms, and you nod your head. “What else babygirl?” you then squeeze your eyes together, remembering how squished your brain feels.

“Head,” you mumble quietly, before crossing and rubbing your arms together in discomfort. “Everything.”

“Your body hurts? Feels sore?” He asks. You nod your head weakly at him, closing your eyes and wishing you could be laying down right now. Even just sitting somewhat upright felt hard at the moment. 

“Okay babygirl, why don’t you let Daddy take you to the bedroom,” Steve suggests. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” he smiles at you comfortingly, before placing a kiss on your forehead with his hand cradling the back of your head. 

“m’I sick?” you ask Bucky as he carries you to their room.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, Dada and I will help you feel better,” he carefully sets you on their large bed. 

It's soft. Yours is soft too, but Daddies always felt so much softer for some reason. Maybe it’s because you got to sleep next to your favorite people. He arranges the pillows and blankets around you to make you more comfortable, then slides next to you. You rest your head on his chest, almost instantly falling asleep again. 

Some time passes, particularly how much time is beyond you. All you knew in this moment, is how comfy Daddy felt.

After some time, Steve’s voice brings you back to reality. He instructs you to sit more upright so he can give you medicine. 

The odd color liquid he brings toward you makes you cringe. You can tell just from looks how bitter and unpleasant it will taste. You recoil into bucky, small hands gripping at the buttons of his shirt as you whine.

“Daddyyy…” you tug on Bucky's shirt more, trying to force your head into his flannel to hide from Steve and his icky medicine, practically begging Bucky to not make Steve give it to you.

“Doll,” Bucky chuckles a bit at your attempt to hide inside his outer shirt. He still holds you close, hands supporting you on your bottom as you have now completely crawled on top of him.

“Angel…you know I can still see you…right?” Steve teases.

“No you can’ts…m’not here” you proclaim, muffled into Bucky’s chest.

“The sooner you take it, the sooner it will be over, come on princess.” Steve encourages. You’re still not convinced and instead mumble out one word: ‘pill.’

For a second, Steve isn’t sure if he understood you correctly before his lips tighten with a displeased look on his face. 

You’ve had this conversation before. He thought surely by now you understood it, but he figured since you’re sick, it might be hard for your little head to remember. 

“Sweet girl, babies can’t take pills, you know that.” Steve explains patiently. You did know that. It was early on when Steve refused to let you take any medication you needed through a pill. It didn't matter what you needed, he was always able to find a way to get a liquid version of it from Uncle Bruce. Or, as you like to think, a much yuckier version of it. 

Still, you groan in disagreement, not wanting to taste something that bad, let alone when your throat hurt as much as it did. 

“Doll,” Bucky speaks up. “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll make you feel so much better.”

You shake your head against his chest, disagreeing with both of your daddies now. 

“it’s yucky dough daddy,” you whine.

“I know it’s yucky, babydoll,” Bucky pats at your back comfortingly while he thinks. He knows how hard this is for you, especially when you feel so bad. “Hey,” he peels you back from him a bit, unburying you from his shirt as he has an idea. “Look,”  he instructs, “Here,” he takes the small cap of medicine from Steve’s hands and–to your horror–throws it back in his mouth. You look at him in horror as the icky liquid disappears from the cap into Bucky's mouth. You stare at him wildly. 

Daddy’s crazy, you think.

“There. See? Daddy took it. It’s not so bad.” Bucky says nonchalantly in an attempt to convenience you. He hands the empty cap back to Steve so he can refill it. Steve shares your look of bewilderment, before you can't help but break out a smile at his action.  

“Daddy,” you giggle at him.

“What?” He fakes surprise. “Daddy took it, so you can too.” he assures happily, taking the now filled-again cap from Steve. Still, you recoil from it a bit. 

“Yeah…” you look between him and the medicine suspiciously. “but daddy also drinks other yucky stuffs,” you defend, referring to the strong-smelling caramel-colored stuff he likes to drink sometimes. Daddy never lets you have that. 

Bucky chuckles a bit when he realizes what you meant. 

“Okay, true…and little baby definitely can’t have that stuff…” he says pointedly. “but this,” he gestures the cap towards you. “you have to take.” You look between him and Steve warily. 

“Please angel, I know you can do it. Do it for Daddy and Dada princess,” Steve encourages. You agree this time, mentally pepping yourself up and telling yourself if daddy could do it, so could you. 

You scrunch your eyes closed as Bucky brings it closer to your lips. You feel Steve’s hands reach down to hold your face. One hand holding your jaw up firmly, with the other around the back of your head. This way, you aren't able to move should you change your mind. Steve knew you’d be a good girl and take it, but he always had to be sure just in case–not unlike what has happened before–you decide to spit it out.

When it hits your tongue, it’s just as yucky as you had imagined. Maybe even worse. Instinctively, your face contorts in displeasure as you squirm around from the gross sensation. 

Steve and Bucky hold you firmly in place the whole time and instruct you to swallow. 

Once you do, Steve asks you to open your mouth for him, just to make sure you really swallowed it all.

“Good girl, my brave little girl. I knew you could do it.” Steve praises you. “Dada’s so proud of you.” he beams at you, making you smile. 

“Daddy proud too?” you ask shyly to Bucky.

“Super proud doll. The proudest of them all.” he winks at you, making you giggle a little bit, but it tickles your throat, causing you to start having a coughing fit. 

Bucky brings a sippy on their nightstand to your lips and lets you drink some cold water. It helps calm your throat. 

Steve asks if there’s anything else you want right now. You ask for some juice in your favorite sippy, and he lets you know he’ll bring it after he’s done making some soup for you.

Bucky gets out of the bed, making you confused. You promptly grab at his hands. 

“Where going?” you look up to him, eyes big and sad. 

“I was just gonna go help Dada, why don’t you get some rest, Doll?” He says, knowing it’s what you need most right now. To his surprise though, you don’t let go.

“Nooo,” you say, tugging feebly at his hands. “Stay…wanna…can…cuddle daddy?” you ask bashfully, suddenly feeling shy. 

Bucky’s eyes turn soft. Soft. Just like his little girl. Soft. Like how your voice always sounded. Soft. Something, an emotion, a feeling, a sensation, that only you made him experience. 

Even after he made you clean your playroom, even after he snapped at you and didn’t listen, you still asked in your softest voice, doleful eyes, and small grabby hands if he would cuddle with you. Sometimes–he’s not sure what he did to deserve you. 

“Of course, princess,” he climbs back into the bed with you and you grin happily as you curl yourself around him just like before. He suggests again that you to get some rest, but that too comes with protest. 

“Wanna watch ‘toons wif Daddy…can we’s?” you ask. Bucky smiles to himself and kisses your head. Even though he knows you’ll likely fall fast asleep no more than five minutes into it, there’s nothing more he’d like more than watch shows with his little girl

He turns on your favorite show and makes sure you’re perfectly comfortable, tucked around him and under blankets. 

“Doll?” he whispers softly after a few minutes. To his surprise, you’re still awake. You mumble a questioning ‘hmm?’ he takes a few seconds to respond, trying to gather the words correctly for you. He breathes in. 

“I’m sorry Daddy didn’t listen earlier,” he admits, lips ghosting the top of your head, before placing a kiss there. “I should have listened.”

“It’s okies Daddy,” you hum sleepily into his chest. It wasn’t okay. He knew that. But you—you and your never-ending soft and kind heart—forgave him. And that’s all that mattered to him. He truly was more than lucky to have a little girl like you.

“I love you Daddy,” you squeeze him softly, voice quiet. And even though he can’t see you, he knows you're smiling when you say it. 

“I love you, Doll.” more than anything.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Santa Tell Me

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You needed protection. Steve was only too un(willing) to take you in his mountain.

Warnings: Swearing, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: One shot that has more that 5k words. One day, I’ll get over Chris Evans. But today isn’t the day. My Christmas gift to you hihi merry christmas lovely humans~

“No.”

A door slammed on Bucky’s face. He had not even said a word and yet, his best friend, Steve Rogers took one look at him and decided that it was best to slam the door in his face.

This punk, he thought.

Bucky took a deep breath before turning to look at the lady hiding behind his back. He offered you an assuring smile, pointing his thumb on the closed door before making a face as though saying that his friend was unnecessarily grumpy.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I think it’s menopause.”

Bucky cleared his throat before knocking once again.

The door opened with excessive force and once again, the brawny man appeared. Now that he didn’t slam the door, you were able to see what he really looked like.

What your supposedly temporary sanctuary looked like.

What he looked like.

When Bucky Barnes showed you what his best friend looked like, you thought that he seemed like an old-fashioned yet friendly man. From what Bucky told you, Steve used to be a captain in the military, until he quitted. The man just one day decided to retire because, and you quoted Bucky, ‘the man was simply fed up with people’s bullshit’.

You thought he looked handsome in his military uniform.

The hulking man in front of Bucky looked like the man in the photograph, yet at the same time so different. The Steve standing tall in front of you had beard on his face. In comparison to the photo, he now sported a longer hair that framed his manly face. You noted that his locks looked darker now. He was even bulkier now, too. The man on the photo looked like a hero. The one in front of you looked like an anti-hero.

“Heeeey,” Bucky grinned at Steve before slapping his arm in a friendly gesture. “I was just talking about you! So this is-“

“We’re the same age,” Steve cut Bucky off, glaring at him with his intense eyes before stepping closer to the equally huge man. You almost wondered how Bucky did not look intimidated at all when you remembered that underneath Bucky’s friendly persona was a man as deadly as him.

Steve never once looked at your direction as if you were inconsequential to him. Well, you thought, of course you were. To him, you were a nuisance. Bucky was not the one assigned to your case, yet you were immensely grateful that he stepped in once he noticed how the other man was bungling your case and almost caused your demise. That was to say it kindly when in truth, you walked out of their office one day after meeting with the other sergeant to go over your case. He assured you that the case was simple and that your life was not in grave danger. One moment you were crossing the road and was about to enter your car, and the next thing you knew a car was driving alarmingly fast to where you were standing. Your fight and flight instinct seemed to fail you as you did nothing but looked at the car with wide eyes and stuck limbs.

You should have been dead.

You would have been dead if it weren’t for Bucky’s quick reflexes and impeccable speed. And well, his metal arm. You felt a powerful arm tugged you behind a car, shielding you with his body and metal arm as the assailant pointed a gun at you and began shooting. The loud bangs from the weapons felt like it went on forever. Bucky had his other arm wrapped around you and he felt your uncontrollable trembles. He looked down and noticed how pale you were.

And he hated it.

He loathed seeing someone took advantage of helpless people.

Perhaps, that was what made him snapped. With practiced precision, Bucky pointed his gun and with a singular shot, he managed to hit one of the wheels. The car crashed to the post with deafening sound of collision. A moment passed before the forces were able to cautiously walked to the car, their guns pointed at the injured assaulters.

Bucky thought they were all useless.

After he made sure that you were indeed unharmed, Bucky gently dragged you back to the headquarters and berated the sergeant in charged of your case. He called the man, and you quoted: ‘a simpering buffoon’, ‘an intolerable fuck waffle’, ‘a spam email’, and lastly, he likened the sergeant to a wet sock. By the time he was done verbally kicking the man, the sergeant looked like he was one insult away from crying. Bucky thought that he deserved it. One mistake could cost someone’s life, and it almost costed yours.

Had the man simply looked deeper into the case, had he just noticed the familiar patterns of the crime, then he would know that the man you unknowingly outed was none other than the villain they had tried so hard to capture. He could not simply hand this case to another person. No, he knew what needed to be done, what level of protection you needed in order to get out of this disaster alive, and who could protect you as he resolved the case.

Which brought the two of you in front of his old friend’s cabin in the middle of nowhere. Okay, that might have been a tad bit exaggerated. Technically, Steve had neighbors in this mountains…just not near him…for miles..

Bucky cocked his head to the side, clearly confused as to what Steve said. “What?”

“We’re the same age. Therefore, If I am experiencing menopause, shouldn’t you be too?” Steve answered scathingly, clearly taking offense on Bucky’s senseless quip. He squinted his eyes at the equally tall man. Bucky’s jaw dropped dramatically, his hand covering his mouth.

“What?” He gasped theatrically. “Meaning to say you can still procreate?”

Steve clearly wasn’t amused. He stepped closer and to your astonishment, Bucky ran behind you. He humorously cowered on your back, using you as a human shield between him and the slighted former captain.

And that was the first time Steve Rogers laid his eyes on you.

To an untrained eye, no one could see him paused. But Bucky saw it. It was as though someone knocked the air out of his friend’s lungs. It was as though you were an occurrence that he never saw coming.

As the case may be, Steve led the two of you in his cozy cabin. The fire from the chimney made the place considerably warmer. Steve wordlessly placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you. Before you could even express your gratitude, he was already turning his back on you and sat on the chair in front of you and Bucky.

“Where’s my tea?” Bucky asked, looking longingly at the cup in your hands.

Steve merely spread his legs further, getting comfortable as he leveled his glare at his best friend. “She’s a guest.”

“I’m you guest, too!”

Steve shook his head slowly, “No, you’re not. You’re an unwanted nuisance, my acquaintance at best.”

Bucky could only blinked owlishly at his best friend. How could he categorized him as an acquaintance as if he didn’t grow up with him? The audacity. The nerve. But then he remembered, he must be kinder to Steve because he was the one needing a favor from him.

After Bucky went to the kitchen and served himself a tea all while mumbling under his breath how hospitable and recluse his friend had become, he went straight to business.

He laid out the facts, and Steve in turn listened intently. Bucky could see that he was just an inch closer to agreeing, and he needed just a push.

“She knows how to cook! She wouldn’t be a bother to you, right Y/N? You know how to cook?” Bucky exclaimed, his expression hopeful as he looked at you.

You shook your head slowly and you could see him visibly deflate.

“She knows how to do the laundry. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger while she’s here-“

You tapped his broad arm, before scooting closer to him. You whispered sheepishly to him, “I don’t know how to do that, too.”

“What?” he whispered back in astonishment and utter confusion.

Steve watched the two of you with a bored expression. His arms were crossed in front of him as he assessed the situation. This was not the first time Bucky used his space as a safe house. Usually, they only stay for a couple of weeks because that was how quick Bucky moved. When his best friend was intrigued with a case, he became so hyper focused that he only breathed for the case. In addition, the last time Bucky brought someone, he promised that it would be the last one.

And yet, here you were.

He could already feel the headache coming.

“Maybe you two want to talk it out first?” He asked when few minutes passed and you two were still conversing under your breaths.

Bucky offered him a sincere smile. “Come on, punk. For the spirit of Christmas, do it for me.”

He looked at him with deadpanned expression, “It’s October.”

He did not know how, but you and him watched as Bucky drove out of the property with a victorious smile on his face. How he was able to convince him was lost on Steve.

The first week went by quickly. You were somehow starting to be familiar with Steve’s routine. You noticed that early in the morning and before he locked the doors in the evening, he did parameter check. No matter how cold it was outside, he would do it without fail. You would admit that it made you feel safer. For the first time in months, you felt as though you were out of harm’s way. And in turn, you attempted to cook him meals. But that ended up a peril to the both of you…and his house.

You tried your very best to do his laundry, even his underwear. You were confused at first why you were having a hard time removing the stains form them. The look of horror in Steve’s face when he saw you hand washing his delicates was priceless. He was a man of great stature and nothing and no one managed to faze him. Until you.

He was so focused on your hands holding his underwear that he failed to notice how you were able to turn his white shirts into red.

He was still blushing and was unable to look in your eyes when that night, you gently place a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He nodded his gratitude to you before engulfing the cup with his massive hand. He took on sip before he started coughing uncontrollably. In your panicked state, you went to him and touch him for the first time. You rubbed his muscular back, looking at his reddened face.

“What is this?” He asked between coughs. Only when he looked like he was near dying did he look at you.

“A coffee,” you answered.

“With salt?!”

A look of confusion passed your face before you realization dawned on you. Hurriedly, you went to him to take his sorry excuse for a coffee away from him. You were pouring it on the sink when you heard his concerned voice near you. In fact, you failed to notice him move and stand beside you because of your embarrassment.

“What happened?”

You contemplated whether you should tell him, but for his safety (and the safety of his food) you told him. With a deep breath, you turned to look at the tall man beside you.

“I lost my sense of taste.”

“Why?”

“Traumatic brain injury,” you admitted as though this was not a big deal, as though you didn’t almost die that night.

He didn’t need to know how- he had an inclination. Your enemy was powerful. Remarkably powerful that Bucky had asked for his help when he promised never to again. You were in danger.

You thought Steve would attempt to say something comforting like other people. Yet, all he did was to look at you intensely and nod his head as if in acknowledgement of your pain.

The next morning, you woke up to find all the ingredients in the kitchen with label, his beautiful handwriting on each of the container.

It was a cold night in November when Steve and your dynamic changed. You couldn’t sleep that night, your thoughts and anxiety about your future was getting ahead of you. It was as if you no longer had something to look forward to, as if it was solitary or death. You tried everything- from counting sheep, to reciting the alphabet backwards. And yet, you still couldn’t sleep. And so, you decided to warm a glass of milk when you heard it.

A sound of pain.

Fearing that something had happened to Steve, you ran to the side of the house you had never been in. You were thankful that the door was not locked when you barged in. The only weapon in your hand was a wooden spoon you would have used to stir your milk. Your eyes swept over the darkened place to fight the danger off and found none. The danger was in Steve’s mind. He was groaning in his sleep, his brows furrowed, showing his distressed. The sheet was entangled in his muscular limbs, sweat was rolling down his forehead.

He looked like he was in pain.

And you knew what it was, you had experienced what it was. It was something you wanted to run away from, and yet, you couldn’t. You were trapped in your own mind. And tonight, Steve was trapped in his own personal nightmare.

Softly, you brushed your hand on his hair, trying to soothe him. You called his name to wake him up, running your other hand up and down his arm in a pacifying manner.

“Steve, come on. Wake up,” you whispered when he started struggling, his muscles rippling from the intense emotions and anxiety rolling off of him.

“I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you,” you buried your face on his chest. You had read somewhere that pressure was a good thing when someone was experiencing this to keep them grounded. You had desperately prayed that someone would be there for you when you felt like dying.

“I’m here for you..”

You repeated saying that until you felt him move. And only when his breathing turned normal did you look up at his confused and frightened eyes. Seeing as he was now awake, you attempted to move only for him to shackle you to his front with his muscular arms. He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe you were there with him, as if you were an angel that saved him the moment he thought he would perish.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. You were wary at that point. You felt as though you were crossing a line- something that you could never go back to. With his face so close to yours, you could feel something you never should have felt for this was only a temporary dwelling, your resting place.

This had a deadline.

You had gotten good at ignoring how handsome he was, how strong he was, how gentle he was to you… and how patient he was to all your shenanigans.

Most importantly, you were almost successful at ignoring how protective he was of you that he did not even let you cook. Or how he always had his hand on the small of your back when you two were walking outside. Or how he always checked on you each night and bid you good night. Or how he said without words how no harm would come upon you.

Or how feminine he made you feel.

It was so unlike how other men you had dated treated you. No, they didn’t treat you wrong… they just didn’t treat you the way he was treating you. Or look at you the way he was looking at you right now.

“Please,” he whispered.

And stay, you did.

It was before sunset when you opened your eyes. A heavy arm was thrown on your stomach, you back so close to his front that you could feel his warmth and a hardness you knew what it was. You felt a tinge of heat on your core. It had been too long… You could smell Steve this close. And by heavens, he smelled like home.

He smelled like yours.

But you knew you shouldn’t get attached. This would only bring chaos to his peaceful life. You weren’t ignorant to assume that his life in the military was peaceful. He wouldn’t be like how he was last night if not for the terrors he faced during his service.

And falling for him would only bring terror in his life. You could not bring yourself to ruin the peaceful and idle life he made for himself in this mountain.

With a firm decision, you left his bed.

Steve couldn’t remember sleeping as peacefully as he did…or waking up as late as he did that morning. Yet, all the calmness he felt vanished when he woke up without you. He knew he did not dreamed you. You were there. He felt you there. He held you in his arms. You soothed the demons living in his mind.

But where were you now?

His movements were abrupt as he scanned his room. He hastily moved out of his room, sweeping a look at every room he passed. He placated himself by thinking that you might have moved back to your room to sleep only to be disappointed. Your room looked cold. You weren’t there. He felt his heart beating, the sound drumming out of his ribcage that it hurt. He felt as though he could not breathe. With a poorly constrained terror, he started calling out your name loudly as he moved to every room of his house.

And still, you weren’t there.

You left, he was convinced.

And he felt betrayed.

How could you leave just like that when you brought color to his bleak life? When for the first time in years he felt that he wasn’t alone? How could you leave like that when you were able to silence the demons he tried so hard to kill?

He was hunched over the kitchen counter when he heard a door open. Unknowing that you left a bomb to explode by stepping outside, you flashed Steve a small smile. In your hand was a bunch of flowers you had plucked from around the area. Your smile froze when he walked to you like a bull ready to eviscerate his opponent. Barely stepping back, you were unprepared when you felt his powerful arms around you, his body trembling with anger and anxiety.

“S-Steve?”

If he heard you, he didn’t give an ounce of indication. His hold on you tightened, his face buried on your dainty shoulder. It went for so long that you started feeling uncomfortable. Your mind was set from your morning walk that you would go back to treating him like a friend. You were attempting to get out of his hold when he finally did speak.

“Do you even have an ounce of idea what I would do if you end up getting hurt?” His voice was cold when he spoke. He let you go to look at you. His anger was palpable. The calm and quiet Steve you knew was gone.

“I just went out to-“

“And you didn’t think of the danger?” He asked in indignation. The way he was looking at you made you feel like a petulant child, as though you did a terrible mistake. “You didn’t think that Bucky placed you in my care only for you to get hurt because what? You wanted to pick up flowers? Are you that thoughtless-“ He finally trailed off when he saw tears threatening to fall. Your lips were quivering from hurt. Steve suddenly felt at loss. He went too far, he was afraid to admit.

Without meeting his eyes, you stepped out of his hold, placed the flowers on the counter, and went up to your room.

It was hours later when a knock disrupted you from your hateful thoughts toward him and pitying thoughts for your situation. You were pouting when the door opened, revealing the person who vexed you today. You didn’t say anything, merely threw daggers his way. Steve didn’t know how to deal with someone like you, yet he knew he was in the wrong. He let his emotions get the best of him.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he said, watching your expressionless face. You hated how he talked to you. There was already someone bungling your life and making it miserable and making you feel like you were so small that he could step on you. You didn’t need another man to do that.

Coldly, you replied, “I only accept apologies in cash.”

And that was how you found yourself in town. Steve was on guard as he walked with you, his towering height made it possible to see everyone. He was serious while you were jumping up and down from excitement. It had been close to half a year since you were out in the public, and this felt like a treat to you. You were so used to living and providing for yourself that when shit happened, it was a big adjustment for you. Yet now, you had no qualm spending his money. It was reparation for damages that he did to you, you thought.

You smiled evilly as he paid for the camera that you bought.

It was not the fanciest, you were not that evil. But it was so long since you last held a camera. You were a photographer, one of the best actually. You were winning contests left and right. One day, you were innocently taking a photo of a landscape, admiring the nature and the vast land before you. Your focus was on the deers wandering aimlessly. You went home that day like any other work day. It was the next day when you were reviewing your photos that you noticed that just behind the deers, almost hidden behind the trees, were three men. One man looked like he was running, the other two was laughing with guns in their hands. It turned out you were a witness to a crime. Not long after, the body was found.

And that was how you got entangled in this whole fiasco.

It was almost December, and the market was already decorated with Christmas lights and in the middle of it all was the huge tree. You pulled Steve in front of it, lifted the camera, and took a picture of the two of you. You were looking at the camera, and he was looking down at you with a small smile in his face.

December came. It was the day before Christmas when Steve found you in the kitchen, attempting once again to cook properly. Regardless of the taste, Steve always ate your food without any reluctance. Yet, what you were cooking looked festive that it confused him.

“Is there an occasion?” He asked as he sipped his coffee, thankfully no longer salty.

“I’m one year closer to death.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my birthday.”

You faced him with a smile. Steve walked to you, before embracing you in his arms. “I am so happy you’re alive, angel. Happy birthday,” he whispered in your ears. He wanted to say how happy he was you were here, too. Yet, he didn’t.

That night, he laid out the table so beautifully. Candles were lit in the middle. Steve cooked for the two of you, and he took out wine from his cellar. You and him were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with wine glass in your hand.

“You never asked me why I had a nightmare,” Steve stated, he was swirling the wine as he looked at you. You could feel his body warmth this close. The wine, the candle, and the way he looked at you felt like this was something intimate.

“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would.”

“You weren’t curious.”

“We all have demons to live with. That’s what I thought. And I hope you defeat your demons,” you admitted before sipping from your glass.

What you didn’t know was his demons were becoming less and less strong the longer you stayed with him, he thought. You could silence them.

“Did you enjoy your birthday, angel?”

“I did. Also, why are you calling me an angel?”

“Because I feel safe with you.”

“What?” You sputtered. If anything, he should be the angel with the way he took you in when he didn’t have to. “If that’s the case, you’re the angel, Steve. You make me feel safe,” you stated with sincerity in your voice.

“I know I’m an imposition to you. I’m thankful that you took me in. Bucky mentioned that he’s almost sure that this will end soon. Thank you for letting me stay here, Steve. Soon, you can have this haven all to yourself. I will never forget your kindness. You’re my angel.”

When you finally looked up, you noticed how serious he was looking at you. His eyes drifted to your lips. Unconsciously, you licked your lips. Suddenly you felt as though you were parched. Steve hated the thought of him living in this mountain without you. You had been here for only close to three months and yet, you changed him. His house no longer felt cold. His house no longer felt empty. He hated the thought of losing you.

He thought that you were meant to be here.

Steve lowered his face to you, inch by inch. Until you felt his lips on you. He kissed you slowly at first, so softly that your eyes fluttered close. It was only when you opened your lips did he kiss you with such intensity that it made your breathless. His hand was on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. His tongue demanded entrance, and you were too willing to give in. The taste of mint and wine on his lips made you kissed him deeper. With his strength, he pulled you on top of him. You were straddling him, and his hands were discovering your curves. The hard evidence of his pleasure was pressed on your core.

You were humping him, all rational thoughts flew out of your brain the moment his lips touched yours. From this angle, you could feel how big he was. You were moaning when his lips skimmed to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses. Your pulse was erratic, he noted. You were as affected as he was. With barely restrained impatience, Steve placed you on the carpeted floor, his body closely following as he topped you. He caressed your soft thigh, your dress falling to your waist which gave him access to your core. As if to tease you, Steve ran his hand from your neck to your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your thong.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you’re dripping wet for me.” Without any warning, he tore your thong away from you. He was in the middle of your parted legs, his look dark as he focused on your core. His finger traced your slit, making you moan as he smirked at how wet you were for him. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Your cunt is so wet for me.”

He slid down. Steve opened your pussy wider with his fingers and with his tongue, he tasted you. You were shocked at how much pleasure he was giving you that when he dove in and ate you like a man starved, you felt yourself go. Yet, he didn’t stop. A finger eased in you as he sucked your clit, moaning with gusto. You were so tight that he wondered how he would fit in you. He was thinking you were his, only his after this.

You were on your second orgasm, your legs shivering when he finally lifted his face. His beard was drenched with your essence, his hair falling on his forehead as he looked at you with heat in his eyes. Your dress was the next to go.

You were too in hazed from your orgasms, and his mouth sucking ferociously on your breast that you didn’t know how he got you and him naked. Yet, the next thing you knew, he was pressing his hard cock against your pussy. He kept pressing the head against you.

“You want me,” he said darkly. It wasn’t lost on you that it was not a question. Yet, you nodded your head. Because at that moment, you did want him more than anything else.

Steve rub his cock on your swollen clit before sliding it down on your tight hole. And then he shoved it inside you, pushing you to the edge once again.

He was only too glad you were too into it that you didn’t notice he had no protection. Or that he came inside you.

He was only too glad to taste you when you were awake. He had craved hearing your moans.

He was only too glad that you were a heavy sleeper some nights that he was able to spread your legs and taste you. He even marked your pussy with his cum on some nights. Of course, you would never know that. It was his secret.

Your talk about how this would all end, how he was going to be alone soon made him crazy. You didn’t know, but you unknowingly traded a dangerous man to another devil. He’d have a talk with Bucky, of course. Bucky would understand that he had to keep you. You’d go nowhere. You were his. He had been good all his life. Didn’t he deserve a Christmas gift, too? You and a baby soon, perhaps?

He smiled at your sleeping form. He couldn’t stop himself from hugging you closer. The snow was falling beautifully outside, the fire had long simmered. The sun was starting to rise. This was what Christmas truly felt like, Steve thought.

When you finally stirred, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, my angel.”