#steve rogers drabbles

[ichorai]

airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there. 

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too. 

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old. 

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight. 

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay. 

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.” 

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words. 

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car. 

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead. 

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got. 

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again. 

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward. 

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills. 

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs. 

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next. 

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often. 

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you. 

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut. 

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead. 

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come. 

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight. 

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view. 

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question. 

Or was it? 

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests. 

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again. 

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music. 

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy. 

“Sandy?” 

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?” 

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.” 

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip. 

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve. 

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric. 

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything. 

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut. 

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on. 

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears. 

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother. 

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief. 

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone. 

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would���ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head. 

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it. 

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe. 

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Steve Rogers Drabbles

Dreams First Date Good Point Hello, Soldier In His Head Lose You to Love Me Minutes Too Late New Agents Protective Second Base Shoestring So Ya Think So?

[imtryingbuck]

➳ Crying or Onions?

[parkers-gal]

make-believe girlfriend J.B.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader, a smidge of grumpy x sunshine

wc: 3.1k

warnings: use of nickname 'peaches.' long distance relationship

summary: after a three month long mission, bucky returns and he has a girlfriend. the team doesn't believe she exists

a/n: i loooooveeee this i hope u do too ! <3

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it was supposed to be a simple mission followed by a month long sabbatical. three months steve told bucky in between sets in the training room. two months to finish the mission, one month to just… explore. you need to get out, discover, to just- i don’t know… do something else besides be a soldier.

bucky had laughed at first. “coming from you? the world’s best soldier? that’s rich.”

“i know i’m not one to talk. but i care about you, buck. wakanda was good for you, i just want you to be at peace again.”

bucky hummed. “i’ll think about it.”

steve nodded, then after a beat, added “if not for you, do it for me.”

that was two weeks ago. now, bucky can’t even believe he’s packing his bags and loading onto the quinjet. alone. for the first time in almost 70 years, he’s afraid of something. of what, he doesn’t know. that’s what’s so nerve wracking about the entire ordeal – with hydra, he’d always known who to fear, who to submit to. when he was fighting on the field, there was always a bad guy, an alien, a man with a scepter. but this was out of his experience. 

footsteps sound behind him. dropping his duffel bag by his backpack, bucky turns around calmly, trying to read steve’s face.

“you can call every once in awhile… if you want to. or just- you know. don’t forget your check ins.”

bucky nods. “it’s just a couple months, steve. i’ll be fine.”

he laughs a little. “i know. i don’t want you to think i’m pushing you to get out.”

“i know you’re not.” a hesitant smile spreads on his face. steve can see right through it, but he doesn’t comment, merely offering a hug. he pats bucky on the back as they always do, and once again, bucky is alone on the quinjet. 

it was scary at first. chicago is so different from his little corner in brooklyn, safe in a bubble of familiarity. his apartment came pre-furnished, and felt more home-like than his bare apartment in new york. it was easy to play along, to act like he was playing a part on a mission.

but then he met you.

the walls of his facade started to crumble, and he found himself seeping into the soft sheets of his bed instead of a thin blanket on the hardwood floor. it became harder and harder for him to convince himself that he was faking the enjoyment of this trip.

you worked at the cafe nearby his apartment. his neighbor came home one day as bucky was leaving, and the smell of her coffee coupled with the croissant in her other hand was enough encouragement he needed to try out the restaurant. 

the bell at the front alerted you of a new customer. you smiled while frothing some milk for an order, “i’ll be right with you!” you chirped sweetly. 

the way you moved behind the counter had bucky in a trance the first time he laid eyes on you. the atmosphere around you was bubbling; it was as if bucky had walked right into a room of sunshine, and you were the star, beautiful and gentle and sweet. he wanted more.

dusting your hands on your apron, you stepped towards the register. “what can i get for you?”

a pause. worry was etched on bucky’s face.

“have you been here before?”

he shook his head. “i don’t know what to get, i’m sorry.”

you smiled again, soft and reassuring. it melted his insides. “that’s okay. would you like any suggestions?”

he finally grew the courage to look at your eyes. his mouth went a little dry, lips parted in shock. you were just so beautiful. he couldn’t describe it. “yeah.”

another comforting smile spread across your face and it soothed him immediately.

“i think our latte macchiato is one our yummiest drinks. i usually get the peach cobbler croissant. it’s amazing when it’s warm and gooey.”

“peach cobbler croissant?”

you nodded, “house original. don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” another smile. 

this time, he smiled back. “okay, i’ll have those, then.”

“great!” you finished registering his order before moving back towards the various coffee machines, lightly singing along to the music playing. a few more people trickle in and out, and bucky takes his time admiring the quaint cafe. 

“hey,” you lightly call. “i never got a name for that order.” you hold a cup of coffee in one hand, a sharpie in the other. 

bucky steps closer to the counter, a sudden surge of confidence rippling through him like it used to back in the 30s. “can i give you a number for it too?”

your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. with a shy nod, you place his cup on the counter and take out a notepad from your apron. he recites his phone number and, with a grateful smile, leaves the shop. his legs almost give out as soon as he steps outside. he’s never been so nervous around a girl before. 

he finished his mission two weeks earlier than planned. that gave him a month and a half to do whatever he wanted in the city. what he really wanted was you. every morning, he’d try a new drink and whatever breakfast special you had that day. and every day, at the end of your shift, bucky would walk you home. or sometimes, you’d walk to the park and sit on the bench and just talk. 

by the second week of this, bucky asked you out on that bench. 

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stepping into bucky’s apartment, you place your keys in the bowl by the front door, and drop your apron next to your shoes. bucky lounges on the couch, a book in his lap and the tv on low.

“peaches?” he closes his book. “why didn’t you call me? i would’ve come to get you.”

you hum, sliding onto the couch beside him. “didn’t wanna bother you.”

he tsks at you before kissing your forehead, pulling you into his side. “how was work?”

you shrug. “i saw the cutest dog. i gave her some whipped cream and it was so cute.”

he smiles, squeezing you close. “wanna watch tv and order in?”

you nod, shuffling to grab the remote and putting your feet in his lap. “wanna watch gilmore girls?”

he massages your sock-clad feet and hums in approval at your question. 

it’s odd how quickly he let go of his life at home. something about you made him want to be everything he thought he could be before the war, before hydra, before everything. he does miss home – new york city, the avengers compound, his clanky washing machine, steve and yes, even sam. but the longer he spends here, the more his home starts to feel like you. 

“i think i love you.” the words slip out before he can register them, and his hands freeze in the middle of massaging you. you turn your head slowly, eyes softening upon hearing his words. “i’m sorry, it’s way too soon to say that i don’t even know why i-”

“i love you too.” you cut in. “i think i’m falling in love with you, bucky barnes.”

his eyes well up and he tugs you closer. “really?”

you nod, a grin breaking out on your face. “really.”

seeing your smile makes him start to smile too. “i’m falling in love with you, too.”

when he kisses you, it’s tender and caring, and his hand cups your face gently. he tastes faintly of apricot jam, and you sigh into the kiss, tugging him closer. “i don’t want you to go.”

he rests his forehead against yours, frowning. “aww, peaches.” bucky places a feather-light kiss to your cheek. “i’ll miss you so much.” 

you nod in acknowledgement. “don’t know what i’m gonna do without you here.”

“i’ll visit as much as i can, honey.”

you huff, sniffing just below his jaw, inhaling his scent. “i know,” you pout. “but i really love being around you.”

bucky can’t help his smile from forming. you’re just so cute, missing him already when he hasn’t even left yet. 

“good thing i have two weeks left to spend as much time with my girl as possible.”

his fingers slip down to your waist, pressing into your sides. laughter bubbles from your throat as you try to pry him off you. bucky chuckles at you, the adorable giggles spewing from your mouth are enough to make him kiss you again. 

“you’re so pretty, peaches.”

you huff, out of breath from the tickling. “yeah?” it’s your turn. “you think so?”

“what are you doing…”

“…nothing…”

“peach- hey!” 

you attack his freakishly hard abdomen, squeezing the muscles with all your might until bucky pulls you up and plops you into his lap, laying back on the couch. satisfied, you rest your hands against his chest. 

“i wonder what stevie’ll think of you.”

your brow quirks. “you mean… captain america?”

bucky laughs, “that’s not his real name.”

you slap his chest lightly. “i know that, silly.”

“don’t know how i got so lucky.” his eyes twinkle at you.

lacing your fingers with his, you give his hand a squeeze. “me too.”

⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚

bucky skillfully lands the quinjet on the helicopter pad at the compound. after showing you all the cool gadgets on the plane, bucky was reluctant to leave your side, but you kissed him and promised to facetime as soon as he was settled in, and bucky couldn’t say no to that, so he kissed you goodbye and waved as he took off, never having been so sad to return to his home in new york.

strolling into the compound, his backpack dangles from his right shoulder as he holds his duffel bag in his metal hand. he makes his way to his room, passing wanda and vision in the kitchen who say ‘hello’ while making some sokovian dish. 

while he unpacks, steve knocks on his door despite bucky leaving it open. 

“hey, buck. how was it?”

closing his dresser drawer, bucky shifts towards steve who steps into the room. 

“it was good. i think… you were right. i really needed that.”

“that’s awesome, man. i’m really happy for you. maybe we can talk about it tonight, have some beers and just catch up?”

bucky nods, already grinning to himself when he thinks about telling steve about you.

he showers, facetimes you for a good hour, before friday alerts him that dinner is ready. he finishes his call with you and heads towards the kitchen, finding sam and steve spread on a table with food. natasha and wanda have taken their plates to the tv, opting to watch a new episode of some show. peter and tony are too caught up in some math problem to leave the couch.

“what’s up, terminator?”

squinting at him, bucky grabs a beer and pops it open with his metal arm, taking a seat beside steve at the round table. “so,” steve talks in between mouthfuls of food. “tell us about the trip.”

taking a gulp of beer, bucky bites the inside of his cheek. “i… met a girl.”

silence overtakes the three of them. 

“what?”

“really?”

bucky nods, a blush already heating up his face. 

“so… are you dating?” steve put his fork down to really look at bucky, still shocked at the sudden news. his friend nods in response. 

“wow.” sam leans back in his chair. “i don’t believe it.”

“what?” it’s bucky’s turn to be shocked, eyebrows furrowing at sam’s confession. “what do you mean you don’t believe it?”

“you go on a three month long trip and suddenly you have a girlfriend for the first time in 70 years? no way.”

“sam, be nice.”

“i am being nice.” he loads up his fork for another bite. “i’m just saying i’ll believe it when i meet her.”

“well, she lives in chicago, bird-brain.”

“who lives in chicago?” natasha suddenly appears in front of them, an empty glass in her hand, presumably here to refill it. 

“bucky’s girlfriend.”

“sam!” steve slaps his shoulder

natasha’s mouth drops open. “you got a girlfriend?!”

bucky’s mouth forms into a disapproving line. “yeah, and sam doesn’t believe she exists.”

she laughs at this, beckoning over wanda and tony.

bucky wants to hide in his room at the sudden amount of people staring at him. 

“i’m with sam on this one.”

“really tony?” steve’s tone is teasing but he can’t help but feel bad for bucky. “you too?”

“i’ll believe it when i see it.”

“whatever.” bucky mumbles, his plate empty and beer gone. “you guys don’t have to believe me.”

“okay, buddy.” sam laughs. “good luck keeping up the act.”

⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚

it’s been five months since bucky was first in chicago, and the team is nowhere near closer to believing in his relationship with you. they’ve walked in on him on the phone, smiling down at his text messages, him on call with you, even him calling a local flower shop in chicago to send you flowers. still, only steve believes you exist, but even he is starting to grow wary. somehow, bucky hasn’t shown any photographs of you, no letters, not even a video call to prove your existence. 

“i don’t know what else to do, peaches.” bucky pouts into the phone. on the other end, you laugh softly.

“they still don’t believe you?”

“sam thought i was texting myself today. myself! i told him i don’t even know how to do that! when i tried to show him photo of you, he said it doesn’t count unless i’m in the photo with you. then he said something about shop photo.”

“... do you mean photoshop?”

“yes! that!”

you giggle at him again. 

“this isn’t funny, peaches.”

“sounds awfully funny to me.” you can’t help but tease him. “why can’t you just put them on the phone?”

“they think i’m just gonna hire someone to pretend to be my girlfriend.” 

you don’t respond for a second, merely humming. “i’m sure we’ll think of something.”

the conversation changes and after a few minutes, clint comes by to get bucky for training. 

“hey, you’re late for training. steve is already downstairs waiting.”

“oh crap,” he pulls his phone closer to his ear. “i’m sorry, peaches. i gotta go. i love you.”

he hangs up after a moment and then moves to grab his gym bag.

“that your pretend girlfriend?” clint points to the phone.

bucky rolls his eyes. “not you, too.”

he raises his arms in defense. “sam has a good point.”

the two of them walk down the hall. “i don’t think he makes a good point.” he grumbles. clint laughs at him, entering the gym where nat and steve are sparring. 

“he’s here.” sam calls out, alerting steve. “what were you doing? calling your fake girlfriend?”

“she’s not fake.” 

“your make-believe girlfriend.”

“alright, sam,” steve interjects. “let’s just get started.”

by the time training ends, bucky just wants to cuddle on the couch with you and fall asleep. but you’re not here, and you haven’t texted him back since your phone call earlier. so, he’s stuck lounging on the couch, freshly showered, watching movies with the rest of the team for some “bonding” that steve insisted on. 

“why wouldn’t they just exchange numbers if they clearly like each other?”

“because,” wanda turns to bruce. “she wants fate to bring them together.”

“fate is not a five dollar bill. fate already brought them together! they’re just denying it.”

before anyone else responds, friday alerts them of someone’s arrival. 

“friday, who is it?” tony calls out. 

“she is not in the stark catalog or the shield workforce database, sir.” she responds.

“how did she get in here, then?”

“miss potts approved of her.”

they all exchange glances until the elevator doors slide open and in it, you with your overnight bag. 

stepping towards the group, you shyly call out. “bucky?”

he whips his head around, standing immediately. “peaches?”

a smile blooms across your face, dropping your bags to engulf him in a hug. he’s never hugged anyone so hard. 

“what are you doing here?” he kisses the top of your head. 

“i wanted to surprise you.” you speak quietly so only he can hear. “and i wanted to prove my existence” you giggle.

“who the fuck is that?”

“language.”

sam looks annoyingly at steve before focusing back on you two.

“sam…” natasha looks disappointed for him. “i think that’s bucky’s girlfriend.”

his jaw drops. “no way.” he scoffs. “no way she actually exists.”

“yeah, what?” tony looks around in shock. “and she just waltzes in here??”

you chuckle at the group of supers. “i thought you said they were smart.” 

bucky laughs at your comment. “sometimes they are.” 

“so you’re actually his girlfriend?” wanda studies you. “how did you meet?”

“bucky came to the cafe i work at.” you smile fondly at the memory. “we make the best peach cobbler croissants. i brought the recipe for you all to try.”

a few ears perk up at this. 

“what’s bucky’s middle name?” sam quizzes. “if you’re really his girlfriend.”

bucky wants to slap his forehead.

“uhm… pretty sure bucky is his middle name.” you laugh out. 

“oh.”

“that was a stupid question, sam.”

“i forgot!” he waves his hands around to dismiss what just happened. “what’s my middle name??”

“aren’t you supposed to be quizzing her about bucky?”

“not the point, peter.”

“you shouldn’t even be quizzing her.” bucky wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “everyone, this is y/n. my girlfriend. my real girlfriend.” 

the sight of affection from bucky causes a silence to settle over the group, as if that was the definitive determining factor in this whole ordeal. 

“y/n, this is the team.” 

you smile, waving at them. 

“that’s steve.”

bucky points him out and steve immediately stands up, offering a hand. “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

you smile in response, the same soft one that had bucky falling for you in the first place.

“he’s the only one who actually believes you exist.” bucky whispers lowly into your ear, and the feel of his facial hair tickles you. “maybe we can all hang out later.” bucky announces, pulling you along towards the hallway to his room. 

he shuts the door behind you, pulling you into his arms. “i can’t believe you’re here.”

you tug at his henley, dog tags clinking as you pull him closer, wanting to kiss him after being void of it for so long. “kiss me already, barnes.”

and kiss you, he does. 

⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚

bucky masterlist

[imyourbratzdoll]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Mob Drabbles

A collection of various mob AUs

Thor

Take a Seat | Take It Slow | Take Your Time

August Walker

The Vow | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Loki

A Touch of Sweetness | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Bucky Barnes

Death Wish | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Steve Rogers

Sum of All | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Nick Fowler

Hush | 2

Captain Syverson

The Olde Bakery | 2

Peter Parker

Sense and Sensibility

Frank Castle

In a Place Like This 

[elixirfromthestars]

Tangled Up In You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

Summary: When you and Steve get tasked with decorating the living room of the Avengers Compound, it seems like the perfect opportunity to spend some time with your crush. However, a certain tangled mess of lights would prove to make decorating a bit more difficult than you had anticipated.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. established nickname -> angel

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> putting up christmas lights isn't as easy as it looks

a/n: And the secret is out! ₊˚⊹☆ This little winter drabble event was started because I wanted to do some gift giving for the holiday season. ˚୨୧⋆｡ So this fluffy fic is my holiday gift to you my dear Jo!! @neverthatsirius-jo ♡ I know how much you adore Steve, so I knew I had to write something for him just for you!! Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

main masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

You grumble an incoherence under your breath, stepping back and looking at the piles of cardboard boxes littering the living room of the Avengers Compound. Each one is filled with various holiday decorations you and Steve have been “tasked” adorning the living room with. 

Last night, during the team’s weekly game night, it was decided that the two people who lost the most games by the end of the night would be stuck with the responsibility of decorating the only undecorated room left in the Compound—the living room. 

Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately for you—you and Steve were the two losers of the night. You didn’t mind having to decorate on your day off, and you certainly didn’t mind spending the afternoon with Steve. He was one of your closest friends—a friend you have been secretly crushing on for months. You were hoping that this time together could help you muster up the courage to finally ask him out on a date.

Fingers crossed that, unlike last night, luck would be on your side when asking him. 

While Steve brought in the remaining boxes from the storage room, you were going through each of the cardboard boxes to try and get an idea of what you had to work with. This was your first holiday season at the Compound, so you didn’t have last year's decor to reference back on.

You make your way over to one of the larger cardboard boxes, one whose height goes up to your waist. You notice the word lights scribbled on the side of it in black permanent marker before you open it. Inside, as you expected, are an abundance of Christmas lights. All an extensive tangled web of cords and bulbs. You couldn’t tell how many sets of lights were inside, but you did know whoever stored them previously did so without a care in the world. Now, they were left in a mangled knot you’d have to find the patience to undo.

Maybe luck wasn’t on your side today…

You huff as you begin pulling the strands of lights out of the box. Your eyes go wider by the second as they appear to be never-ending. Almost as if you were pulling the lights from a magician’s hat, yards upon yards of string poured out. It made you wonder if Wanda had enchanted the box for it to have been able to fit so much.

By the time the box was empty, you were in the midst of the pile of lights, carefully trying to make a path by sweeping the cords on the ground with your foot. This backfires on you quickly as the cords end up around your ankles. When you try to free them, your wrists somehow end up joining in on the vine-like restriction.

The pattern of you trying to free yourself from the web of lights only to end up getting more entrapped by them continues until you can no longer discern where you start and where the lights end. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculous situation you have gotten yourself into.

“I think there’s only—” Steve's words freeze in midair along with himself as he walks into the living room and sees the predicament you’re in. The Christmas lights cover you from head to toe as if you had been decorating yourself in them. His eyes sparkle with amusement, but he keeps his lips in a tight line to stop himself from laughing. 

“Y/n, how did you…?”

“Please help.” 

Embarrassment bubbles within every ounce of you—to say the least—and with no dignified explanation of how you got like this, you look everywhere but at Steve. Staring intently at the ground when he sets down the boxes in his arms and carefully makes his way over to you. 

“I think you took out the lights Tony used last year to outline the roof. That’s why there’s so many of them,” Steve explains kindly as a way to make you feel better, delicately pulling at the lights around your body to find the ones easiest to take off of you first. Your eyes slowly make their way to meet his baby blue ones. Your embarrassment melts away at the gentle way he’s staring at you—no judgment in sight. However, you don’t miss the way the corners of his lips twitch as he holds back a smile.

“You can laugh, it's okay. This is pretty funny.”

“I’m not going to laugh at you, angel.” 

“Laugh with me then.”

The nickname he uses only for you is enough to bring a smile to your face, but when a few light chuckles leave his lips at your permission—your smile widens until your soft laughter joins his.

What happens next will forever be unexplainable to both of you. Somehow, in the midst of trying to untangle you, the string of lights find themselves around Steve’s chest constricting his movement. You try to help him, but you’re not in the best position to. So from here on out, you go back and forth trying to help one another only to end up enveloped further by the lights. 

You both laugh it off until you realize how close the lights have tangled you to each other. If you step any closer you’d be pressed up against Steve, the mere possibility sends your heart racing. Your nerves get the better of you, attempting to step back only to almost slip backward if it weren’t for Steve reaching out to catch you before you did. 

Ultimately, pressing you up against him so you wouldn’t fall. 

“You alright, angel?” He asks you tentatively, scanning you over as if you had fallen. 

You nod slowly, the words getting caught in your throat at his proximity. The scent of his cologne, an earthy spice that is mixed with something that is entirely him fills your senses, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter dreamily.

Your eyes gravitate to his lips and when they do his breath hitches. Your gaze shoots up to meet his and in his pretty blues you swear you see the same desire you hold. 

You’re dying to kiss him, and you think he is too.

Steve’s eyes lock on your lips, and that’s all the confirmation you need to gather the courage to pull him in for a kiss. It starts hesitant, yet sweet, both of you testing the waters of what it feels like to kiss one another. It doesn’t take long for Steve to deepen the kiss, wanting to pour his feelings for you out in the open. The dilemma of the lights is long forgotten as the kiss consumes all of your thoughts. 

The snapping sound of a phone camera isn’t enough to break the kiss, but the flash that follows it is. You look over to see Bucky smirking proudly at the sight of his best friend kissing you and Sam making fun of Bucky for not knowing how to take a photo without the flash on. 

“Seriously, you two?” Steve shakes his head at his friends, his cheeks rosy with a hint of bashfulness at the way his best friends are acting. You can feel your face getting hot as well, knowing there was no way you were ever going to live down getting tangled up in Christmas lights with Steve. 

As for the picture of the kiss…you were definitely going to ask Bucky for a copy later.

When you tune back into their conversation, Sam has a shit-eating grin on his face, “You should make that this year's Christmas card.” 

“Sam!”

You giggle at Sam’s teasing and at Steve’s attempt at scolding him. Steve seems mortified until he notices the way you don’t seem to mind the teasing. He stares at you with a fond expression, wanting more than anything to be alone with you again.

“Don’t you two have chores to do? Y/n and I are kind of busy here,” Steve motions to the web of lights that cover you and him from head to toe. Despite that, the twinkle of mischief in Sam’s eyes tells you he’s not done with either of you yet. 

“Kissing or decorating?”

“Sam!”

After a few more rounds of teasing that leave Steve wondering when the earth will swallow him whole, Sam and Bucky finally retreat—leaving him alone with you once more.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you angel—I promise,” Steve apologizes to you, an endearing embarrassment on his features. You shake your head with a soft smile, intending to tell him not to worry about it until an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you make it up to me tomorrow? We can check out that new coffee place down on Orchard if you’d like,” you suggest, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you await his answer. He lights up at your suggestion, “I’d love to. It’s a date then?” That last part comes out as a whispered question, wondering if you’d see it the same way he did. 

“It’s a date,” you confirm, moving against the restricting lights enough to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

So it seems luck was on your side all along after all.

[spaceycat]

if you haven’t... can you do steve’s fav positions?

thank you thank you😘🍓

DHNMRGJ NTHOINSUIGSIRK ily so much anon

⋆★⋆ steve's favourite positions  ⋆★⋆

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: MUTT by Leon Thomas

a/n: something that ive realised in both my steve nd bucky's "favourite positions" posts their gifs look like they're judging me so hard.. like get out?

I feel like Steve is just a very intimate person, like he values being close to you 24/7 and places his hands on you to keep him grounded because cmon when isnt that guy literally on another astral plane

SOOOO!! that means alot of chest to chest sex, pushing your thighs apart to get in between them ever so closer

kisses your neck, face and chest while whispering praises to you while fucking into you (half of them are just instinctual and he doesnt mean for you to hear them)

his fingers able to bruise your hips because of how tightly he's holding onto you

but i feel like he is just horny.. like.. all the time?

alot of make out sessions in the kitchen late at night

nomad steve is a completely different thing

he takes what he needs, he's more foward - more touchy.

still as intimate but more heated, using his strength to flip you onto your stomach - wrapping a bicep around your neck to get leverage as he fucks into you.

he cares less about what other people thinks "c'mon baby.. let everyone in the tower hear you." "you can be louder than that, sweetheart."

he will and can make you moan like a pornstar and he knows all the ways to touch you and position you to make that happen

his hands dragging down your sides and thighs, hands tough and calloused.

has and will fuck you in the living room, bending you over the arm of the couch, kneading your ass with his hands.

also has fucked you bent over his bike and DEF in tony's car, he didnt mean to but the way you sat in his lap while the two of you were driving to headquarters, you were basically begging in his ear the entire time and he def fingered you in the passenger seat while driving

sit on his face. he will literally beg and plead you to, he needs it like he needs air - gripping onto your thighs as he laps through your folds like a man starved, looking up at you with hazy eyes

he doesnt tap you to signal to let him breath a couple times, the lightheadedness amplifying everything

he loves when you give him head, loving the drool and spit as he looks down at you - ESPECIALLY when he's subby/stressed tf out

half of these arent positions, but thats okay guys

[tweedcola]

Just a lil domestic drabble with Steve and Bucky

Word Count: 372

Warnings: mentions of sex

Steve comes home in the early hours of the morning to the entire apartment smelling like sex. Clothes are scattered about without rhyme or reason but he makes his way to the bedroom where you and Bucky are draped over each other in a seemingly blissful slumber, his vibranium arm securing you to him protectively.

Bucky stirs when Steve steps into the room, his enhanced hearing causing him to wake while you continue to snooze.

Steve sheds his clothes and slides into the bed next to you, opening his arms as you instinctively turn and snuggle closer to him, even in your sleep. Steve's heart thuds desperately as you bury your head into his neck, his adoration for you almost painful in its intensity.

"Everything okay?" Bucky asks Steve under his breath.

"All fine," is the succinct answer. Now Steve's home he needs to focus his energy on his people. He's been told that a work-life balance is important. "How's our girl been?"

"Insatiable," Bucky answers, with a sly grin. "Can't believe I'm saying this punk, but I'm so glad there are two of us. Wouldn't be able to keep up with her like this all of the time."

"She tire you out old man?" Steve asks with a wicked cackle, stopping sharply when you shift against his chest in protest of the movement.

"Stevie, you were gone for 36 hours and we had sex 12 times." Bucky delivers the statistic completely deadpan, but Steve lets out another quiet snort, pulling you in closer to him before resting his hand on Bucky's hip.

"Sounds to me like a complaint Buck," Steve murmurs, stroking his thumb against your temple and marvelling at your ability to sleep through the entire conversation.

Bucky reaches over and shoves at Steve's unoccupied shoulder, causing him to rock back slightly, but even with you in his hold you don't wake, simply letting out a little snuffling sound before pressing your face against his chest, still slumbering away.

"Jerk," Bucky hisses playfully before snuggling back into your sleeping form. You let out a content sigh and the two men share a fond look and a soft kiss over your head before settling down either side of you for the night.

Hope you enjoyed!

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 || 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ||

A/n: Got asked to write a second part so here it is when Steve does not stay in the 1940's but returns to the Reader instead

Warnings: Soft / desperate smut

The wind is sharp and biting, a constant chill against Steve’s skin as he steps back onto the platform.

His breath hitches, eyes sweeping over the room. Bucky is there, jaw clenched, waiting. Sam stands beside him, brow furrowed in confusion. The air is heavy, thick with tension and unspoken questions.

But Steve’s eyes search for only one person.

You.

You’re standing at the back of the room, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes wide and disbelieving. Your chest rises and falls with rapid, shallow breaths, and your lips part as you stare at him.

Steve feels the weight of it — everything he almost lost, everything he nearly gave up. And he knows. God, he knows.

Peggy was his past. A memory frozen in time, a life that could never be.

But you — you’re his now. You’re his future.

He steps forward, his boots heavy against the platform. Bucky and Sam exchange a glance but say nothing. It’s Bucky who steps back, a subtle nod in Steve’s direction, his expression soft and understanding.

Steve doesn’t break eye contact with you as he closes the distance, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

You’re trembling, tears glistening in your eyes as you stare up at him. “Steve,” you whisper, your voice so small, so broken. “You… you came back.”

Steve swallows thickly, his own eyes shining. “I couldn’t leave you,” he says, his voice rough and low. “I thought… I thought she was what I wanted. What I needed.” He shakes his head, the words tumbling out of him. “But she’s not. You are.”

It's the truth, and it was something he was so close to losing. He can almost see it, a flash in his eyes, a look into another future, another time line when you are no longer his.

And god he hates that.

Your lips tremble, a sob escaping as you cover your mouth with a shaking hand. “Steve…”

“I was an idiot,” Steve continues, his voice breaking. “The moment I got trapped in that ice… I stopped being hers. I was never hers again. I’ve been yours ever since I woke up. And I nearly threw it away.”

A single tear slips down your cheek, and Steve can’t take it anymore. He closes the distance, his hands cupping your face as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathes, the words heavy and thick with emotion. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart.”

Your hands rise to clutch his wrists, your fingers digging into his skin as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear again. “I thought… I thought you left me,” you choke out, your voice cracking. “I thought you chose her over me.”

Steve shakes his head, pressing a soft, desperate kiss to your forehead. “Never again,” he promises, his lips trembling against your skin. “I’m home. I’m right here. With you. Always.”

Your sobs break free then, and Steve pulls you against his chest, arms wrapping around you as if he could hold all your shattered pieces together. You clutch at his back, fingers fisting in his shirt as you bury your face in his neck.

Steve closes his eyes, breathing you in, feeling the warmth of your body against his. This — this is home. Not a dance in the past, not a memory of what could have been.

This. You. Here and now.

And he’s never letting go again.

Steve’s lips crash against yours the moment the door closes behind you.

His hands are everywhere — cupping your jaw, sliding down your back, gripping your waist as if he’s terrified you’ll disappear. His breath is ragged, mingling with yours, each kiss deeper, more desperate than the last.

You whimper against his mouth, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer, closer. The air between you is electric, charged with all the words left unsaid, all the aching, gut-wrenching longing.

“Missed you,” Steve growls, his voice thick, his hands sliding beneath your shirt, his palms searing against your skin. “God, missed you so much.”

His lips move to your neck, sucking, biting, marking, as if he needs to prove to himself that you’re real, that you’re here. Your head falls back, a moan slipping free as his teeth graze the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

“Steve,” you gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carries you down the hall, his eyes locked on yours, dark and desperate.

Your back hits the wall, and he pins you there, his hips grinding against yours, the thick, hard length of him pressing against your core through his jeans. The friction sends sparks shooting up your spine, and you arch against him, rolling your hips to meet his.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his forehead dropping to yours, his chest heaving. “Need you. Need you right now.”

You shiver, your hands scrambling to tug his shirt up and over his head, your fingers skimming over the hard planes of muscle, the warmth of his skin. He’s solid beneath your touch, real and here and yours.

“Take me,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Steve, please.”

He groans, pressing another bruising kiss to your lips before carrying you to the bedroom, the journey a blur of heated kisses and wandering hands.

When he lays you down on the bed, his eyes roam over you, dark and intense, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You reach for him, fingers hooking into his waistband, tugging him closer.

But he catches your wrists, pinning them above your head as he hovers over you, his gaze burning into yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, voice a rough, needy rasp. “You’re mine, and I need you to know that.”

You nod, breath hitching, thighs clenching as his knee presses between your legs, spreading you wider beneath him. “I’m yours,” you breathe, voice cracking. “Always.”

A shudder rolls through him, and then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, devouring, consuming. His hands are everywhere, tearing away your clothes, his lips trailing down your neck, over your collarbone, down to your breasts. He takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the hardened peak, and you cry out, hips bucking up against him.

“Steve,” you gasp, back arching off the bed as he moves lower, his mouth blazing a path down your stomach, teeth grazing your hip bones.

When he settles between your thighs, his breath hot against your aching core, you whimper, fingers fisting in the sheets. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and the raw hunger in them makes your heart stutter.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice reverent as he drags his tongue up your slit, slow and deliberate. Your legs tremble, a moan spilling from your lips as he circles your clit, sucking gently before plunging his tongue inside you.

You’re a trembling, moaning mess beneath him, your hips rocking against his face, thighs quivering as he devours you like a man starved. The heat builds, tighter and tighter, until you’re sobbing his name, your body shattering beneath him.

But he doesn’t stop.

Steve rises, his lips shiny with your slick, and he shoves his jeans down, his cock springing free, thick and hard and dripping. He crawls over you, pressing the blunt head against your entrance, his eyes locked on yours.

“You ready?” he rasps, voice strained, his jaw tight as he holds himself back.

“Yes,” you breathe, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. “Please.”

He pushes in, slow and deep, and the stretch burns, the sensation of him filling you so perfectly, so completely, that you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips.

Steve shudders, a groan ripping from his throat as he bottoms out, hips flush against yours. He stills, chest heaving, his forehead dropping to yours as he breathes you in.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “So perfect. So mine.”

“Yours,” you echo, clinging to him as he begins to move, slow and deep, each thrust hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.

His hands slide beneath you, lifting your hips higher as he fucks you harder, deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Your nails rake down his back, your cries growing louder, his name a litany on your lips.

“Say it,” he growls, his pace brutal now, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “Say you’re mine.”

“Yours,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cling to him, your body writhing beneath him. “I’m yours, Steve. Always.”

And that’s all it takes. Steve’s thrusts grow frantic, his movements rough and desperate as he chases his release, his eyes locked on yours.

“Come with me,” he grits out, his thumb circling your clit, his cock hitting that spot over and over until you’re falling apart beneath him, your body tightening, spasming, as you shatter around him.

Steve follows with a hoarse, broken moan, his hips jerking, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he spills himself, his face buried in your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

You hold him as he trembles above you, your hands stroking through his hair, your legs wrapped around his waist, anchoring him to you.

And when he finally lifts his head, his eyes soft and vulnerable, you cup his face, thumb brushing over his cheek as you whisper, “You’re home.”

Steve closes his eyes, a tear slipping free as he presses a kiss to your palm.

“Yeah,” he breathes, voice shaking. “I’m home.”

[arathejedi394]

that meme of bucky with the twitter post saying "the winter soldier having flashbacks of gay sex and not knowing why"

“I think I’m gay,” Bucky announces abruptly.

Sam chokes on his beer. Bucky claps him on the back, looking pensively into the dark water. Sam gets a breath, then clears his throat several times before licking his lips.

“What makes you say that?” he asks casually.

“I remember having gay sex,” Bucky answers ponderously. “A lot.”

"A lot?" Sam repeats, now bewildered.

Bucky just nods slowly, his gaze distant. Sam blinks several times, wondering what the hell he's imagining.

“With who?” he demands, looking at him with eyebrows high on his forehead.

Bucky just frowns. “I don’t know. A couple of guys. A big one and a little one.”

Sam looks out at the water, too, mouthing under his breath about how fucking stupid this man can get. Then takes Bucky’s cigarette and drags on it. Bucky snatches it back.

“You’re not a super soldier,” he snaps. “No smoking, kid.”

“Sorry,” Sam replies. “I mean, about – About not remembering… Hm… Oof. That’s, uh, that’s rough, buddy.” He claps Bucky on the shoulder, glancing over his shoulder with a grimace for their friend, the one who was little but now is big and is now retired so he can paint large blue watercolors of some vague masculine figure over and over again, that friend. He faces the water again and blows out his breath. Idiots. Jesus Christ man.

Bucky sighs, wistful, then drags on the cigarette himself. The boat rocks behind them.

“Did I hear you say you remember having gay sex?” Steve calls from behind them.

Bucky glances over his shoulder at him. “Yeah,” he says, nodding. “You know anything about that?”

Sam looks at Steve, raising his eyebrows. Steve’s lower lip wobbles for a second and then he just smiles.

“I’m sure you’ll remember,” he then says quietly.

Bucky nods, turning back. Sam drops his jaw at Steve, who just lowers his gaze and sits down on a bench, hands in his lap and head down. Like a kicked puppy. Sam blusters, half gesturing between the two of them, but Steve shoots him a glare and Bucky doesn't notice. Sam looks between the two of them for over a minute, just watching these two idiots standing five feet apart because they’re not gay.

“Okay,” Sam declares, “that’s it! I’ve had it up to HERE with the homoerotic tension on this boat!”

Bucky looks up, frowning. Steve jerks his head up, too, his eyes wide. Sam points with both hands at Steve, but looks at Bucky.

“He knows somethin’ about you being gay for sure!” he snaps. “Frankly, I think he knows more about it than you do! Double frankly! I know that for a mothafuckin' fact!”

Bucky opens his mouth, looking bewildered, then glances between Steve and Sam. “Huh?”

Sam slaps himself in the face with the hand not holding his beer. Bucky frowns at Steve. Steve blushes and looks towards the stern of the boat. Bucky suddenly gasps, jerking a hand up to point.

“I fucked you!” he shouts.

Steve blushes harder, bright red behind his beard, as he look down into his lap, then he nods, seeming speechless.

Sam smacks himself on the forehead again, making a face at their stupidity. Then Bucky shoves his cigarette back into his hand, and he storms right up to Steve and hauls him off the bench by the back of his shirt. Steve squeaks adorably for a man of his large size, but Bucky starts dragging him off the boat.

“Okay?” Sam calls after them as Steve stumbles to keep up with Bucky. “Bye, I guess?”

“Thanks!” Bucky shouts over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Steve says.

“I’m fucking your face in that alley over there, sweetheart,” Bucky announces. "Then I'm coming all over your beard."

“I did not need to hear that!” Sam shouts back. “Didn’t need to hear that! I expect to be both of y’all’s best man at your wedding! And the officiant! And I’mma give both of y’all away, too!” He turns, then pivots, jabbing his finger in their direction. “And it better be a destination wedding, gay ass dumbasses! I wanna go to Bali!”

Steve waves his middle finger behind him as he skips, eagerly, along behind Bucky down the pier. Sam shakes his head, turns, and puffs on the cigarette again.

“Gay ass dumbasses,” he mutters, “one looks over, the other’s already looking away. My ass.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world's most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The lights, the noise, the crowd, it's all a bit much. You move out of the way of another Red, or, Black Widow cosplayer only to nearly bump into a rather short but broad Thor. At least, you think you have those right. You don't know. Bonita is more into this stuff. You're more here for moral support, or more realistically, to carry her bags.

Didn't she tell you she was trying to cut down her spending? You've already tallied up more than you'd spend on groceries on a single poster and a bobblehead hero. Which one was that? The one with the metal arm…

You jostle against Bonita to keep from brushing against a stranger. You're not much for human contact as it is, but you'd rather it be here than that guy in the Spiderboy outfit doing twirls. You can respect the passion but it's all over the top. Someone's going to get hurt.

"Alright, signature time!" Bonita claps her hands and leads you over to a long queue behind a velvet cord. A man in black asks for her VIP pass. She shows it and you see the not so subtle total on the receipt; $500! That's robbery. These Stark Industries-issued heroes don't need all that.

You keep your grumbles to yourself and cross your arms to follow her. The man stops you too. You reel back and give him a glower.

"Relax, I'm carrying milady's things," you raise the bag and bobblehead. "I'm not interested in having a class photo."

"Please, sir, she's not really into any of this," Bonita adds with a cute smile. He considers her and drops his shoulders. He waves you through.

You shuffle along with the line of bodies. You lean to the side as you try to see the front. It zigzags back and forth. You're going to be here forever.

"Why couldn't Mo come with again?" You drone.

"Because he's a butthead," she whines. "Couldn't even pay me back for getting the tickets on pre-sale so he can miss out!"

"I didn't pay either," you mutter.

"Yes, but you're more fun. My brother's spoiled. He deserves it."

You nod and move with her as the queue shifts again. It's easy for her to come out and spend all this money. She still lives at home. You're not judging her but she also doesn't seem ashamed of it either. As happy as you'd been when you got out on your own, you sometimes wonder what it'd be like to have people to fall back on.

"It's going to be so cool. I got a photo with both of them! EEEEE!" Her squeal has you touching your earlobes.

"Both of them," you nod dully.

"Captain America and the Winter Soldier," she exclaims and claps her hands. "Do you think they'll like my outfit?"

You look her up and down. She wears a star-spangled corset and a red and white striped skirt. She's like an excitable flag. You shrug. "It's cute, but you must be cold in here," you peer up at the high-ceilings and the fans swirling the air around.

"Nope! Too excited," she assures you.

"Cool."

You might not be into any of this but you try to be a supportive friend. Bonita's a bit flighty but she's not a bad person. Really, you admire how into things she gets. You have your things but she's about as interested in those as you are in super soldiers.

She chatters on about the photo. Do you think they'll sign it too? Oh, she needs to put it right above her desk. Obviously, it's going to be her phone background. You nod and peer around vaguely.

She thrives in place likes these. Bright, loud, and chaotic. You'll take something warm to drink and a book. She'll join you if you throw in some face masks and the like.

It's more than hour before you're in sight of the front table. Your feet hurt from standing mostly in one spot. You stretch your neck one-way than the other as you near the head of the line. You stand right by the stanchion where the cord opens.

Someone emerges from behind the curtain and you have to quickly step out the bouncing soldier's way. Is it considered stolen valour or an homage? As you move, your elbow hits someone else and you spin to face the unexpected figure.

"Oh," the man catches your elbow as you look up at him. Dark beard, dark hair past his chin, wide shoulders, and straight posture. His blue eyes seem familiar. "Sorry, miss. I'm just trying to get back to my station."

You sidle closer to Bonita as she gasps. The man brushes his fingertips down your sleeve as he passes and heads for the table. He stops to speak with the person handing out merch then proceeds behind the curtain where the flashes have been steadily flickering behind.

"Gosh, can you believe that?"

"Believe what?" You stare after him.

"That was him. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier," she exclaims. You blink at her and she scoffs.

"God, you're so lame. I can't believe you had no idea."

"I dunno," you pop your shoulders up and down. "Not my thing but that's cool."

"Oop!" She hops on her toes as the person at the table calls for the next in line, "that's me."

"Have fun," you say as you move aside with her haul.

She skips up to the table and shows her phone again. She takes the SWAG they offer her as they explain the next step and point behind the curtain. As she disappears behind it, you hear her squeal. You wonder if super soldiers have super hearing. That must've hurt.

You sway as you wait. Your name cuts through the air as you space out staring at a banner and you look over as Bonita waves from behind the curtain. You hesitantly cross the floor, expecting to be stopped.

"They want you to join!" She says.

"What?" You stop a foot away from her head as it appears to float between the curtains.

"Sure. They said why not? Since you waited in line."

"Oh, no that's… fine. I'll stay out here."

"Come on," she huffs and grabs your wrist, dragging you through. "Here she is!"

You step through and scan the space. There's the photographer patiently waiting behind the camera. Across from the lens, two large men stand with smiles that you can tell are all for show. This is a paid appearance for them.

"Hey, how about it?" The blond asks and beckons you over.

"I guess if you want me too, Bonnie," you say to your friend without acknowledge the man you know to be Captain America.

She brings you over with her and stands you between her and the brown-haired sidekick. Bucky steps closer and you wince as his hand goes to your lower back. You suppose it's normal given that you're getting photos but you want nothing more than to growl at him.

"Alright, everyone set?" The photographer looks at the camera and adjusts the lens. "Smile."

The flash goes as you refuse to follow orders. You're not much on smiling. You stand there like a mannequin as your vision speckles from the light.

"Oh, Steve, um, will you pick me up for the next one?" Bonita asks. You cringe and step away from Bucky's hand. He looms close as you squirm.

"Sure," Steve accepts breezily. He lifts her with no effort at all as you give a skeptical look.

"How about you?" Bucky touches your arm again and you draw away reflexively.

"No thanks," you curl your shoulders inward as you try to shrink down. "I'm good."

"Alright," the photographer says, "everyone together."

"Um, I think I'm going to step out, actually--"

Too late. Bucky puts his arm over your shoulders and crowds you as Bonita poses in Steve's arms. Your eyes round in horror and the camera blinds you again. She's really going to owe you for this one.

[evansbby]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 (𝐩𝐨𝐲𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, a/b/o dynamics, daddy kink, HEAVY lactation kink, also heavy on housewife kink, domesticity kink, very heavy on breeding kink, and pregnancy kink, Steve is very condescending, also babies omega a lot as per usual, the usual stuff! 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve is so turned on by his submissive little housewife, and so he decides he's going to breed her again.

𝐀/𝐍: I kind of went crazy with this. IDEK YALL. kinda went delirious as i wrote it and now it's late. Enjoy! (This is a drabble of my fic, POYT)

Steve can’t wait to get home to his wife. He’s only been married less than a year and yet he can’t get over the pure domestic bliss that his life has become. It’s what he’d always wanted, always dreamed about. And now he has it. With you, his perfect, beautiful, innocent little omega. And his adorable little daughter too.

“You’re home!” You breathe, your face lighting up when Steve walks in through the front door. And Steve can feel his own face lighting up, and he can’t help but take two steps forward and yank you into a crushing hug. All his stress and worries from work seem to dissipate at once. And the fact that you look so happy to see him? In a cute little floral dress, looking so extra curvy and voluptuous ever since you’d given birth. Your breasts are practically spilling out the top of your dress, and it makes him lick his lips appreciatively.

You’ve got Rosie on your hip, and she looks absolutely thrilled to see him too, which makes Steve’s chest puff out in pride. He can’t believe this is his life, and that he gets to share it with you. Sure, work is stressful as Steve plans to expand his family’s company even more and his father’s basically left him in control and responsible for everything. Not to mention, all the preparations for the senatorial elections next year.

But all that melts away as he hugs you close, his eyes fluttering shut in content as you loosen his tie and undo his collar button, pressing kisses on his shoulders and chest because you’re too small and delicate to reach his lips.

“Missed you so much, Steve.” You say, looking up at him needily.

“You did, didn’t you?” Steve smirks, although he knows that he probably missed you even more. He has a special picture of you framed on his desk. It’s from the day he proposed to you, you sitting in the field of yellow roses in your yellow dress, bathing in the sunlight and looking happier than ever. He stares at that picture more than he’d like to admit. Sometimes, he talks to it, complains to it about his dumbass employees and equally stupid business partners.

He also has a picture of Rosie from her six-month celebration. Which his whole family had celebrated as if it was her birthday – she was the first grandchild after all and so it wasn’t a surprised that everyone wanted to dote on her. Steve’s mom had been especially into the six-month celebration, which Steve didn’t understand because his mom would obviously be there for Rosie’s first birthday. And second, and third. And so on. She would, wouldn’t she?

He shakes those unwanted thoughts out of his mind before they go to that one place he doesn’t want to acknowledge right now. Instead, he focuses on you, his beautiful wife. You’re so cute and thoughtful, setting Rosie down in her baby chair before helping him out of his jacket and undoing his tie for him.

“How was work, Steve?”

“Good. The same.” He grunts, not wanting to talk about work at all. Instead, he picks up his daughter, examining her carefully. She’s cute as ever, way cuter than any other baby he’s ever seen in his life. Definitely cuter than the babies in the diaper and baby food commercials he sees on television. Rosie would be way better in those commercials, not that he’d ever exploit his daughter like that. If Steve had his way, no one outside of his family would ever lay their eyes on his wife and his baby – they’d be kept private. Because they needed to be protected by him and he loved them more than anything.

“Hey, Rosie. You look so cute, sweetheart. All ready for bed, huh?” He coos, giving his daughter a dozen kisses on her cute, fat cheeks. She giggles, wrapping her tiny arms around his face as he gives her kisses. And then he looks at her carefully, drinking her in because he hates being at work all day and missing out on her. She’s growing so fast, it feels like just yesterday she was the size of his hand and now she’s so much bigger. And she was looking more and more like her mommy as the days passed.

“She wasn’t showing any signs of being tired,” you speak up shyly, “I think she was waiting for her daddy to come home so she could say goodnight.”

“Is that right, Rosie?” Steve asks, and his daughter blinks up at him with a smile on her face, starts kicking her chubby little legs up and down excitedly. He can’t help but melt inside, deciding to play his favourite game with her. He throws her up in the air and she squeals happily. You gasp behind him, muttering a “Steve, please be careful,” which he is, of course he is.

Rosie yawns, and Steve kisses her face a few more times before placing her back down. And then he pulls you into him, kissing you fervently because he’s missed you so fucking much. Not to mention, you look so crazy hot right now. His little wife. His perfect little omega.

“Baby, this dress is so hot on you.” He mutters against your lips, lifting you up so he can kiss you properly.

You light up at his praise, “Thank you. Although it’s gotten a bit small–”

He smirks down at your breasts which look ready to pop out of the material any second, “It looks good.”

He kisses you some more, not wanting to stop as his hands go to cup your ass. But you pull away after a little while, telling him that you need to put Rosie to bed. He accompanies you, groping you every few seconds because he just can’t get over how hot you look, how you’re so glowing, how motherhood suits you so much.

The two of you put Rosie to bed, and Steve feels so fulfilled by his little family as he stands there with his arm around you, watching Rosie cuddle with her stuffed animal and immediately fall asleep.

“I made all your favourite food tonight.” You tell him as you grab his hand and lead him to the dining room. And Steve loves when you take initiative like that. Before, you’d never take his hand like that – you’d always wait for him to initiate and lead. But now, you’re more comfortable with him and he loves when you do little things like this. His little housewife, perfectly safe inside his house and leading him to the meal you’d cooked just for him.

You’ve set the dining room table up perfectly for two, but Steve pulls you into his lap after you’ve finished piling his plate up high with everything from chicken pot pie to mashed potatoes and vegetable soup. “Have you eaten, baby?”

You look down into your lap, “No, I was waiting for you.”

He feeds you along with himself, not wanting you to lift another finger. You’ve worked so hard on this dinner, and balanced that with other household chores – not to mention looking after Rosie. Now, he needs you to conserve your energy. Because of what he has planned for the rest of the night, of course.

“You’re such a good little girl,” Steve coos, tearing off a hunk of your homemade bread and dipping it into the soup before feeding it to you, “You did so good, baby, and daddy is so proud of you.”

You glow, “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, daddy – I mean Steve. Thank you, Steve!”

He smirks, patting your lips with a napkin. He continues to feed both of you, taking a second and third helping of food just for himself because he’s worked so damn fucking hard and he’s hungry and you’re like a Michelin star chef when it comes to cooking. But he loves how submissive you’re being right now, opening your mouth whenever he gives you another bite, smiling demurely when he kisses your cheek or temple, or widening your eyes when his hand playfully reaches up your skirt and settles on your bare upper thigh.

“You’re such a great housewife, omega.” He continues to sing your praises softly, wanting to see you squirm in his lap because you’ve never been able to take a compliment. “You must’ve had a busy day today, huh? My pretty little baby omega, running my house and taking care of my baby.”

You swallow your bite of food before nodding, “I-I tried. But I didn’t manage to complete everything on my to-do list.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” you shake your head as if to reprimand yourself, “I did the laundry in the morning as well as some general cleaning up. I fed Rosie and played some games with her and then got her all dressed up in the new pink frilly dress we got for her six-month celebration. Then I took her to the park and did some groceries on the way back. I was supposed to go to that home boutique to get some new material for curtains and I was supposed to go to the post office too, but I had to skip all that because it was getting late and Rosie was getting fussy and I had to put her down for her nap and get started on dinner. I guess I didn’t plan everything out as perfectly as I thought I did.” You hang your head dejectedly.

It’s in moments like these that Steve just wants to hold you in his arms and kiss you all over and cherish you like the beautiful, perfect human being that you are. Instead, he brushes a bit of your hair behind your ear and tips your chin up till you meet his gaze.

“Baby, you know we have people to do all that, right?” He thinks back to the all the staff that he’s paying. Sure, he loves when you play housewife, how you insist on doing everything yourself. But he doesn’t want you to stretch yourself out so thin, and work yourself up too much. Especially not when he was trying to get you pregnant again. “Please tell me you at least had the driver take you.”

You’re silent, before looking up at him sheepishly, “It’s only a five-minute drive to the park and the grocery store, Steve.”

He frowns, “You know I don’t want you driving.” Omegas don’t drive.

“I know, I know. But I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

He decides to let it go, because Steve knows that marriage is about picking and choosing your battles. He shakes his head to let you know that he disapproves of this behaviour, but he also gives you a kiss on the temple, which informs you that he won’t be punishing you for this, which makes you relax and smile up at him. And how can he punish you? When you’ve been working so hard all day and so has he… and all he really wants to do is spend the night with his beautiful wife, doing all sorts of nasty, despicable things to you.

“S-Steve?”

He’s lost in thought, so when you call out his name in that shy, cute little voice of yours… well, it goes straight to his dick. He was rock hard the moment he’d entered the house, but now he’s positively about to bust a nut. You, all soft and cute, sitting in his lap and now you’re saying his name in that cute, breathy and shy way?! It’s like you were teasing him on purpose!

“Yes, baby?” He bounces you on his knee, licking his lips as he watches how your breasts bounce too. He drives his hard crotch into your butt, making you gasp slightly before you quickly recover.

“I was… uh… I was wondering if me and Rosie could visit you at work tomorrow?” You blurt out, looking so adorably shy as you immediately duck your head down again, “During lunch, maybe? I-It’s okay if you’re busy, though. It was just a thought.”

He knows you have a therapy session tomorrow morning (Steve oversees your schedule so he knows where you are at all times). He also knows that sometimes, after certain sessions (probably the ones where you talk about your parents) you get extra needy. He knows this because you text him a lot after those sessions, and call him a lot too. Normal stuff like describing how you cooked dinner or telling him about your day so far. You hadn’t made any girlfriends yet (well, there’s his mom and also a few of his colleagues’ wives who you were friendly with… but he knows you’re most comfortable with him). Once you’d called him while he was in the middle of a very important meeting, but he’d talked to you nonetheless because, well, he was the boss and he could do that. And because he knew you needed him.

“Of course, you can, baby. Just come right up to my office.”

You smile happily, “Okay, thanks! I’ll add it to my schedule. Let’s say… between one to two pm?”

Steve nods, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watches you take your phone out. You open your scheduling app to a colourful spreadsheet and quickly fill in a slot, the one right below “Therapy Session” and you label it as “Lunch with Steve and Rosie” with a bunch of hearts. He loves how organised you are, it’s the cutest and most amusing thing in the world to him. It also comes in handy in other aspects – like how Steve always has his shirts and ties all crisp and ironed and laid out for him every morning, and how his closet is always colour-coded.

He catches your lips in his, unable to keep from kissing you. God, he’s so in love with you and he can’t believe how perfect you are. Sometimes he can’t fully wrap his head around the fact that you’re his. Completely and utterly his. Because he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Not in the slightest.

But he has you. And he’s not complaining or ever letting you go.

Steve polishes off his third helping of food till the plate gleams clean, and you nod your head at him approvingly.

“Would you like some dessert, Steve? I think we have some leftover chocolate cake from last night.” (You had baked it at 2am the night before, because sometimes you did things like that and Steve had long ago stopped questioning it – especially since you’d packed him a fat slice to take to work today).

But Steve isn’t in the mood for chocolate cake right this second. He stands up quickly, with you in his arms bridal style. You squeal lightly, winding your arms up around his neck.

“I do want something sweet, baby omega. But I think you know what I want, and it’s not chocolate cake.” He murmurs huskily against your lips. Your eyes widen like they always do whenever he refers to sex, but he knows you want him just as badly. It’s the way your scent becomes so much sweeter than it already is, the way you squeeze your thighs together in a way you think is subtle but he notices every single time. It’s how he can sense your raw want and need for him through the bond you both share.

He starts walking towards the staircase with you in his arms.

“Should I tell you what I’m gonna do to you tonight, baby?”

You nod, your breath hitching in your throat so prettily, your hands looking so tiny as they trail down your chest. He can even see beads of sweat forming on your brow, and how your lips part open. All tell-tale signs of an omega who was at her most fertile and was ready to mate. (And of course, Steve knew you’d be very fertile tonight, because he kept track of things like that).

 “Mm, first I’m going to lay you down on our bed and you’re going to feed daddy, aren’t you?” Steve smirks, holding you easily with one arm while his free hand slips up to squeeze one of your breasts. As he suspected, they look big and heavy with milk, bouncing with each step he takes. Your nipples are so hard, he can see them clear as day through the thin material of your dress, and his cocks gets even harder when he sees the tiny little wet patches. “Your tits look so sore, baby. You’re gonna let daddy drink from them, aren’t you? Relieve all that pressure, right, baby omega?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy,” you pant, nodding so quickly that you forget to be shy. And now, Steve can practically smell your slick as it trickles down your legs. He takes the stairs up two at a time, keeping you firmly in his arms and watching as your tits bounce enticingly just for him.

He’d always planned to drink your milk when he got you pregnant the first time. He’d heard of other alphas doing it with their omegas, and the thought of doing it with you always turned him on to the point where he had to immediately jack off. And he finally got his chance to do it when you were still pregnant, almost about to pop and you’d begun lactating of course. Fuck, Steve had been in heaven, he still remembers the first time he’d fed from your breast. One hand cupping your pregnant belly, his mouth latched on your nipple and you gazing at him unsurely because of course you felt uncomfortable.

But Steve had loved every second of it, and so had you because he’d fingered you the whole time he drank from you, and you’d cum three times one after the other. And Steve had blown his load all over your quivering pussy, so fucking turned on by the fact that he was feeding from his pregnant omega. And then it had become a regular occurrence after that. Like if the baby had had her fill and you still felt heavy, Steve would always step in to “help out.”

“And then after I’ve drank my fill, I’m going to climb on top of you and fuck you so hard.” Steve promises you, and he swears he feels you shiver with anticipation in his arms as he carries you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. One glance at the baby monitor shows Rosie safely asleep in her nursery.

“Alpha, please!” you whine prettily, and he knows your omega senses have taken over. It’s how you’re humping against him now, your slick trailing down your legs lewdly. “N-Need you, need your knot, please, alpha, please!”

“Oh yeah? You want my knot?”

“Yes!”

“You want your alpha to cum inside your little baby omega pussy? Fill you up with my cum, then knot you so it all stays inside?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“You want me to fuck another baby into you?”

“YES, PLEASE, DADDY!”

That’s when Steve knows he has you right where he wants you. In that blissful state of complete abandon, where you leave yourself to the mercy of the omega inside you. Where you completely submit yourself to him and your own basest omega desire – mating.

Steve knows you’ve been on the fence about having another baby. The two of you had discussed it, and Steve had made it clear that he wanted a big family. You had expressed that you also wanted more babies, but you wanted to wait a while and focus on Rosie. Well, Rosie was almost seven months old now, and Steve was sure she’d love a little sibling. And then another one. And another one. And then another. And then one more. And then maybe another one after that.

He throws you on the bed, and you land on your back with a soft thud. Already, your legs are spreading on their own accord, as if you need him inside you right this second. But Steve plans on taking his own sweet time, and he salivates when he sees your cleavage, your chest heaving up and down as you breathe erratically.

He’s on top of you in a second, licking and nipping at your face like a feral beast who wants to mark his prey. He scents you heavily, till you grow lax in his arms, all submissive and needy as you stare up at him pleadingly, your nostrils twitching at his alpha scent.

“Alpha, plea– oh my!”

He rips your dress clean in half, letting out an animalistic growl when your tits spill out attractively. No bra of course. And no panties either. You weren’t allowed to wear those at home.

“S-Steve,” you gasp as he spanks your thigh and gives you a warning look, “I-I mean, daddy! Please fuck me!”

He chuckles, tweaking the stiff peak of your nipple before blowing cool air on it. He watches your features twist, your jaw go slack. “Let daddy have some fun first, baby omega. Don’t forget, you have to feed me first.”

He’s got his knee lodged between your legs and he can feel you steadily humping against it. But all he can focus on are your breasts. He rolls your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pressing down gently before cupping your breast and squeezing it.

You moan as your milk spurts out, and Steve immediately latches on to your nipple, sucking hard. He moans around your breast, sending vibrations through your whole body when your sweet milk touches his tongue. Fuck, you taste so good, so sweet.

“That’s my good little baby,” he murmurs encouragingly, his voice slightly muffled as he tries to coax your writhing body. “Such a good little baby, breastfeeding your daddy like a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Ah, ah, ah! Y-Yeah!”

“That’s right, give daddy more of your sweet mommy milk,” he sucks almost your whole breast into his mouth, so incredibly turned on by what he’s doing right now. He massages your other breast, and it squirts out milk too. Steve takes care of that, licking all over both your breasts to get the excess milk off your chest before returning to your nipple, “Tell me how much you love feeding daddy.”

“L-Love feeding daddy, love it so much, please!” You mewl pitifully, grabbing at his hair and pressing his face more into your breasts. And Steve can’t believe this is you – his shy and innocent little omega wife completely transformed into this feral creature who is currently rutting against his clothed cock.

He can’t help but surge up and kiss you, his tongue mingling with yours as he makes you taste your own milk. And you’re moaning breathily, breaking the kiss every few seconds just to beg him some more, saying “daddy, please” before biting and sucking at his lip, kissing him deeper like you can’t get enough of him.

“God, I love your mommy milk so much,” he tells you, going back to suck your other nipple. And he knows you feel immediate relief as he drains you, alleviates the pressure from your breasts as he drinks from you. He feels you stroke his hair and wrap your legs around his waist, dry humping him even more needily, like you just can’t help it.

He spanks you hard, four times in quick succession, “You’re gonna feed me your mommy milk whenever I want, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes, alpha! I will!”

He grazes his teeth against your sensitive nipple, making you jump before you gives it another hearty suck, your milk still squirting out straight into his mouth, “Mm, so you’re gonna breastfeed daddy tomorrow, aren’t you? When you stop by for lunch at my office?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah? You’re gonna sit in daddy’s lap like a sweet little omega and let me suck on your tits while I do my work? Feed me your sweet mommy milk like the obedient little wife that you are?” God, Steve was so turned on, he reaches down to pull his cock out from the confines of his pants. You see it and gasp, immediately making grabby hands for it, and the smell of your arousal increases tenfold.

“Y-Yeah, daddy! W-Wanna be good for you, always wanna do what I’m told an’ be good for you,” you cry, clutching him close, “I’ll do anything for you alpha, please, please, please!”

God, you were such a good fucking omega. The perfect little wife, so innocent yet you turned into a freak in the goddamn sheets when he had you underneath him. You were almost as desperate for him as he was for you, although he knew you could never beat him at that game. He was so obsessed with you, it was unhealthy. He wanted you all the time, he thought about you all the time. To Steve, the sexiest thing in the whole world was you, and the fact that you were his property turned him on infinitely more.

He licks at your tits hungrily, lapping up all your sweet milk that he didn’t catch in his mouth the first time. And then he goes back to sucking, and he even gives your nipple a little bite, making you scream his name and hold him even tighter. And it’s then that he realises that you’ve cum, and he feels the sopping wetness of your release as you squirt all over his leg, crying like a baby as you moan his name deliriously.

“You’re a sensitive little baby, aren’t you, omega?” Steve whispers devilishly, reaching down to cup between your legs, feel your quivering pussy, your sensitive clit throbbing against his palm. “Can’t help but cum from feeding your daddy, huh?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry, baby omega.” He smirks, giving your sopping pussy a few slaps that make you jump and grip his shirt hard, a newfound neediness inside you. As if cumming once had left you sensitive down there yet still not satisfied, still greedy and panting for more…

“Daddy, I… Daddy, please! Need your knot, daddy please!”

You haven’t been this vocal with your neediness for a long time. Steve wonders if you’re about to go into heat, as if even your own body is telling you that it’s time to get pregnant again. Fuck, that was so hot, and he can’t help but graze his hard cock over your bare stomach, tracing your skin with his precum, making sure his scent is all over you till it seeps into your skin.

“You want my daddy dick, don’t you?” He asks you gruffly, switching to a more authoritative tone. The beast alpha inside of him is roaring awake, a natural response to how needy you’re being. He has this innate urge to control you, subdue you, pin you down and fuck you like an omega in heat deserved to be fucked.

“Yes, please, please, please!” You writhe underneath him, hips bucking up and your hands still trying to grab at his cock, trying desperately to somehow shove it inside your leaking, desperate little hole. Except he cruelly slaps your hands away, making sure he’s in complete control, not an ounce of leniency left inside him.

“Get on your fucking hands and knees. Right now, omega. Present for me.”

He watches as you pant and readily obey him. Your limbs are like jelly after your orgasm but you’re so desperate to obey him that you stumble into position readily. He loves how he never has to alpha-command you, because you’re so naturally submissive that you always listen to him no matter what. And fuck, your ass looks amazing as you get on your hands and knees, pointing it towards him and he can’t help but give it a hard smack, licking his lips at your hot little ass as it jiggles.

“Arch your back a bit more, let daddy see your little fuckhole. Mm, just like that. That’s my good little girl.” He praises you, rubbing your ass where he’s just slapped you. You’re swaying and shivering underneath him, poking backwards in an attempt to create friction. Steve smirks, gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. And that’s when he’s hit with your sweet pussy scent, so hard that he almost loses control right there.

But he manages to control himself, breathing slowly as he stares down at your glistening pussy. Your cream is clear and slippery – an obvious sign that you’re ovulating and extremely fertile. Fuck, fuck, fuck – he can’t wait to fuck his baby into you.

“I’m going to breed the fuck out of you,” Steve informs you lowly, firmly gripping your hips to keep you from thrusting back against him, “it’s about time you were pregnant again, baby omega. You were made to carry my babies, and as my baby wife, that’s exactly what you’re going to do, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy!” You sob, “Please, put it inside me, daddy, please, I don’t think I can wait any longer, I just, I need–

“Tell me what you need.” Unlike you, Steve is better at keeping in control of himself. He has to be, because he’s the one in charge – and the juxtaposition of him being calm and you completely losing it, sweating and writhing naked underneath his still clothed body? God, it was so fucking hot.

“N-Need you! Need your knot!”

“Oh yeah?” He gives your ass another harsh slap, so fucking turned on by how it bounces. He jacks of lightly, rubbing the tip of his cock on your wet slit, making you shudder. “Tell me why you need it, baby.”

“B-Because I do!” You cry, earning another rough smack to your ass.

“Not good enough, baby omega. You have to tell me exactly why you want me.”

You’re crying from frustration now, he can see your delicious tears as they drip down on the sheets below you. He knows you aren’t the best at expressing yourself during sex – you’re mostly just begging him or screaming his name or being delirious. But shy little you articulating in desperate detail why you wanted him inside you? God, the idea of that makes Steve want to bust a nut right then and there.

“C-Cause I… ‘Cause I want you inside me, daddy.” You mumble shyly, but there’s nothing shy about the way your body betrays you, pressing your ass against his cock in a bid to get you to fuck him but all it does is earn you yet another slap on your poor butt.

“Do better.” He orders you, “C’mon, omega, you know you can do better. Tell daddy why you want his big daddy dick, and then I’ll decide whether you deserve–”

“PLEASE, DADDY! Want you so, so bad, please, please, please!” You sob in complete abandon, your slick pouring down your thighs, making them all shiny and the bedsheets beneath you all damp. “W-Want my big strong daddy, please, okay?! Want you to knock me up, daddy, need it so bad! Alpha, please breed me, please–OHHH FUCK!!!”

He drives his dick into you in one hard thrust. And fuck, you are so tight that he almost forgets how to breathe. Your velvety walls feel snug and tight against his thick cock, choking it almost. He feels like he’s in heaven, and that’s when his alpha instinct kicks in and he growls, reaching forward to grab your neck from behind.

“Daddy’s been waiting to fuck you all goddamn day,” he growls, tired of holding back and teasing you, and already moving his hips. He pulls his dick out of you, moaning loudly when he sees it coated in your sticky cream. God fucking dammit, you were wetter than he’d ever seen you before, like dripping your juices all over him and the bed and he hadn’t even done anything yet! “You tease me so fucking much, baby. Running around doing your cute little errands, our baby on your hip and you’re in that sexy fucking dress, all flowery and shit like you want to tease daddy, huh?”

SMACK.

He licks his lips as he spanks your ass repeatedly, his hips a blur as he fucks you hard, skin slapping against skin.

“D-Didn’t mean to tease you!” You pant, meeting his thrusts like you’re in heat, which Steve is genuinely beginning to think you are in heat. And it’s making you all submissive, saying all the right things and saying them so innocently: “J-Just wanna be a good wife for you, daddy. J-Just wanna make you happy, ah!”

“Is that right, baby omega?” Steve grabs you by the hair, yanking you up till you’re on your knees only, your back against his front. His other hand slips around to grab your breast, groping it and squeezing it hard, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. And holy fuck, you start leaking milk out again, and it gathers on his thumb. He latches his mouth on his mark on your neck, making you go lax and your mouth go slack. He shoves his thumb into your mouth, making you suck your own milk from his digit. “God, you’re so fucking kinky, baby. So innocent and cute yet so fucking kinky.”

He roughly pushes you back down, pressing your face into the mattress as the feral animal inside of him takes over once more. When his alpha instincts rile up, he has to exert his complete dominance which is why he’s being extra rough with you. Like now, as he watches you scream and bite at the bedsheets, your voice muffled as he holds you down. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. He could really hurt you if he wanted to, because you were just a small baby omega after all. But he wouldn’t, because he loves you. He may push you over the edge, fuck you real rough and hard, but he’d never physically hurt you.

“G-Gonna make you carry my babies,” he mutters, yanking you back up and pushing you down cheek first against the mattress, so he can hear you cry clearer. “You hear me, omega? You’re my submissive little baby wife and you’re gonna carry my fucking babies.”

“I will, I will!” You sob.

He smacks your butt again, so hard that your knees give out and you fall back against the mattress but he yanks you back up by your hips. He hasn’t been this rough with you in a long time. Definitely not since you’d had the baby. You’d been weak and of course, he’d been barred from having sex with you for a few months. It was agony, but he would never want to hurt you like that. Even when the doctor gave you two the green light to have as much fun as you wanted, even then Steve held back for fear of hurting you.

But now, it’s like there’s something feral overtaking both of you. And maybe it’s because you’re ovulating and most probably at the beginning of your heat. It makes the animal inside of him purr and awaken, take his most alpha form and fuck you with abandon like he’s doing now. And it’s not like you’re complaining, in fact, you’re egging him on! Crying and sobbing and yet you continue to meet each one of his thrusts.

“How does it feel, baby? Being the future senator’s baby wife? Taking my daddy dick in your tiny tight pussy like you were made to do it?”

“L-Love being your wife!” You cry out, sounding so cute and earnest and desperate.

“Yeah? You gonna have the senator’s babies?”

“Yes, senator! G-Gonna have more of your babies, daddy! As many as you want!”

You’re so fucking delirious that you haven’t even realised what you’ve addressed him as, but it makes Steve even harder as he continues to rut against you.

“Fucking shake your ass on my daddy dick, baby. Mm, just like that, fuck! Make yourself fucking cum, omega. Is your little baby pussy gonna cry for me right now?”

His words are like magic, because your walls are already squeezing around his dick as you cum. As if you’re so hell-bent on being submissive for him, so determined to do exactly what he says that your body has somehow managed to orgasm on his command. And it makes Steve feel so goddamned powerful.

“Nngh, daddy! Oh fuck!” You whimper pathetically, and your body collapses on the bed, quivering and spent as your walls constrict around his dick, gripping him for all he’s worth as you squirt around him. Coating his dick with your omega cream, getting him so fucking close but he’s not done yet. He yanks your body back into place, continuing to fuck you hard.

“God-fucking-dammit, baby. You’ve already cum twice, huh? Your little pussy can’t ever hold it in, can you?” He scorns, despite the fact that it had been him who’d coaxed you to cum. All you can do is cry deliriously underneath him, and he knows you’re about to pass out soon. And he can’t help but be turned on at the idea of him still fucking you while you were out of it, and then when you regained consciousness, he’d still be fucking you.

Instead, he pulls out, and you immediately whine at the feeling of emptiness. Frowning and looking like you’re about to burst into tears because his dick isn’t inside you anymore, despite the fact that you were so spent already. Steve wastes no time in flipping you over till you’re flat on your back, and he can clearly see your face streaked with tears. He hikes both your legs up, pinning them on either side of your head. Folding you in half, twisting you like a goddamned pretzel just so when he eventually cums inside you, he keeps it inside you.

“Put it back in, alpha!” You beg so prettily, so breathy and weak and spent but still wanting him, “Please, put it back in!”

Steve smirks, forcing his dick back inside you. And your pussy is so slippery, so goddamned lubricated by your arousal, and yet he still has to force his way back in because of how tight you are. Because of how big and thick he is.

“You look so pretty while you’re getting bred, baby.” He chuckles breathlessly, unable to help pressing his lips on yours. It’s crazy how he feels like an animalistic alpha one second, hell bent on brutally fucking his family into you, and then the next second a glimpse of the loving husband comes out, and he needs to kiss your poor bitten, chapped lips.

And you kiss him back so readily, arms winding around his neck, pulling at his hair. The kiss is messy, and he wants to make it messier. He draws back, pressing his thick fingers between your lips to hold them open. And then he spits right inside your mouth, ordering you to swallow it. Of course, you obey immediately, and he’s so goddamned turned on by how much in charge he is. How in complete control he is. How he’s your fucking daddy, your alpha, your everything. The goddamned senator, the richest and most powerful man in New York, with his submissive little omega wife pinned down underneath him.

“Please breed me, daddy,” you beg lightly, like you’re about to faint. Your eyes flutter, but he gives you such an unbelievably hard thrust that you’re jolted back to consciousness. And he watches you carefully, watches as your eyes widen as you look down. He follows your gaze, letting out a rumble from deep within his chest when he sees what you’re staring at.

His fucking cock. Or the outline of his cock as it pokes out of your lower tummy, like the tip of it was all the way inside your goddamned womb. God fuck, he nearly busted a nut right there.

“So deep,” you marvel, making Steve puff his chest out in pride.

“Damn fucking right, omega. You can feel every inch of my daddy dick, can’t you?”

“Y-Yes, fuck!”

He presses your legs against your chest, licking his lips as he watches where you two meet. Watches his huge fucking dick drive in and out of you like it was your fucking job to take him. Your sopping pussy swallows his cock up greedily, and the lewd sounds of sex mixed in with your moans and Steve’s grunts echo around the room.

“Cute, helpless little fucking omega,” he mutters, watching how your breasts bounce at each thrust, how you cry so prettily for him each time he pistons his big dick inside you. “You were made to take my goddamned, dick, you hear me? You were made for me, baby. I’m your alpha and I fucking own this pussy. I own you and I’ll fucking breed you whenever the fuck I want.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You’d have agreed to anything he’d said at that point.

Steve grabs one of your ankles, kissing up your calf while you moan sexily. And then he licks your foot, teeth tugging at your cute anklet that he’d gifted you a few months ago. It’s got his name on it, another sign of his complete and utter ownership of you. Your toes gleam with white polish and Steve licks his lips, his dick so fucking hard because you are so fucking hot. He can’t help but lap at your foot, kissing up your instep while you moan so fucking loudly. He sucks your toes, the act almost making him bust a nut but he manages to contain himself.

“Gonna keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” He vows, his lips returning to yours. He presses his forehead against yours, forcing eye contact with you, “You hear me, omega? You’re my goddamned wife and from here on out, you’re going to always be pregnant, okay?”

“A-Always pregnant!” You agree weepily.

“Damn fucking straight. And I’ll keep you plugged up with my cum. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Y-Yes!”

“You want daddy’s knot, baby?”

“YES, DADDY! PLEASE!”

Always in perfect sync, the two of you cum at the same time. Steve’s knot swells, locking his dick in place as he blows his load with an almighty roar, spilling his hot seed inside you. His dick is milked by your pulsating walls, your greedy little pussy swallowing all his cum like a good fucking girl as you squirt around him. Both your fluids mingle together, plugged inside by his knot. He angles your hips upwards, just to make sure everything stays inside you.

You’re crying and crying, clutching against him needily as you have another orgasm immediately after the one you’ve just had. And Steve’s still blowing his load inside you, he doesn’t think he’s cum this hard in his whole life, searing you from the inside out with so much cum. Alphas had a lot of cum anyways, but this was an entirely new level. He gently moves his hips, fucking his cum deeper into you, riding you through your orgasm as he cusses under his breath. Your legs shake violently as you cry, burying your head in his chest as you whimper his name over and over again.

Finally, he collapses on top of you, immediately hugging you close and letting you cry into his chest. Smothering you in his heat as you cry due to being overwhelmed, and being fucked so good that you’re delirious and don’t know what else to do.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, I love you, I love you so much,” he coaxes you, your entire body shaking against him. You’re so well and truly spent, fucked exactly how you’d wanted to be, how you’d begged to be. And with one last bit of your strength, you wrap your legs around his waist as if to keep him inside you, and you kiss his collarbones and his neck, trying your hardest to catch your breath as you whimper how much you love him too.

It’s only after a good five minutes of this that he finally speaks.

“Baby? You with me?”

You smile weakly up at him, “Y-Yeah, daddy. That was…”

“…I know,” Steve chuckles hoarsely, kissing you all over your face before laying down beside you. You begin to whine at the lack of contact (despite the fact his dick is still inside you) and so he pulls you on top of him, and you lie there with your head on his chest. And he feels so content, his beautiful wife on top of him, naked and sweaty and thoroughly bred as he traces his name on your bare back.

It doesn’t take long for a smug smile to touch his lips, proud of how thoroughly he’s fucked you. But he doesn’t say anything, neither of you do. You just lay there, basking in each other. Steve admits it’s nice, because this is what he’d been missing all day at work. And he loves you so fucking much.

“Baby?” He asks after several minutes.

“Yeah, daddy?”

“You ready for round two?”

THE END SKAFALAL

I think it's safe to say omega is definitely gonna be pregnant again after this one shot!! PLEASE let me know what you think!!! Fav parts, diallogue ANYTHINGGG thank you! ily ily

[lostalioth]

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

→ premise: you knew steve loved when you called him sir, how the honorific rolled off your tongue and lit a fire in the pit of his stomach. so maybe it wasn’t the best idea to call him sir in a mocking tone on a mission.

→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, sir kink, edging, fingering, mention of spanking, nicknames [princess, little one]

→ a/n: kinktober 16

Steve spent the whole ride back from the mission keeping a death grip on your thigh and facing forward with a deadpan stare. He wasn't per say mad at you but you knew you were in for it when you made it back to the base.

You had called him sir in a tone dripping with sarcasm and an eye roll when he gave you an order during the mission. The honorific wasn't new to you or Steve, it was something you learned about your boyfriend in the bedroom, he loved it when you called him sir. It wasn't a name he was called when he was a leader everyone just always called him cap.

So to hear it roll off your tongue in the middle of a mission in an almost mocking manner has his insides turning, cause it still sent that throb down through his cock.

He wasn't as mad that you said it in front of the others as he was with the way you said it. Yes because of the tone you got a laugh out of Tony in response but Steve didn't find it as amusing.

And that was how you ended up spread out on Steve’s bed, your thighs spread to accommodate your boyfriend's large frame between them. A stinging pain still lingering on your ass cheeks from the beginning half of your punishment, his rough palm. The latter half of your punishment was being relentlessly edged, Steve not allowing you to come no matter how many times you apologize sweetly and desperately. His long fingers were currently buried deep inside you curling upwards to hit that blissful spot deep inside you. That spot that has you squirming and crying out for release when he pulls them back right as your body tenses up and your orgasm is building, making you whine out at the loss of pleasure.

“Sir… pleasee ive been s’good i just need to cum, i promise i wont do it again” you whimper out, trying to grind your hips down on his fingers and fuck yourself on them or get him to move them. “See now i don't think you have, little one” he lightly shakes his head before he grabs ahold of your hip with his free hand. His fingers slowly pull out further making you let out a pathetic whine thinking he was stopping all together. But before you can protest or beg him not to, his fingers plunge inside you in a sharp thrust that has your head spinning. “Ahh~ Sir…pleasee m’gonna cum, wanna cum s’bad” you whine and mumble out, the hour or so of edging that has been going on has begun to make an ache settle in your core and not the good kind.

His fingers curl up again as they pound into you making your vision go blurry, your head spinning as your orgasm builds, growing more and more getting ready to crash into you. The sound of his chuckle rings in your ears and as fast as he pushes them in, Steve pulls his fingers back, not out but they stop their asslut of your g-spot. Your climax comes crashing down instead of over you, the building feelings dissipating in your stomach, your hips bucking and squirming.

“Sirrr pleasee it hurtss, neeed to cum” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut in slight pain as well as frustration.

”You wanted to be a little brat during the mission princess, this is all on you” he explains as his fingers slowly begin moving again though the switch in pace only has small gasps leaving your lips, your orgasm still far far away.

“I'm not done with you just yet, you gotta deal with the consequences to your actions little one” he cooed, leaning down to leave a small peck to your mouth before his free hands rubbed across your thighs that were starting to burn from being spread so wide for so long.

Steve had a long night planned ahead for you, though he did intend on letting you cum soon. He wouldn't be done even after that with you though, he was extremely worked up the entire ride back home. That three letter honorific does something to him he can't explain and he never wanted to hear you say it on a mission again. It's way too hard for him to keep his hands to himself when you do.

→ a/n: this is short, not proofread and kinda shit as im trying to rush to get back on track so maybe ill finish kinktober this year, i have hopefully one more post to do today, then just the last day which will either be posted on halloween or after after if im busy.

[cap-trio]

pretty boy

summary: You call Steve pretty for the first time.

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

tags: fluff, established relationship, shy!steve rogers

word count: 445

You’ve always found Steve Rogers to be pretty. 

All of your friends (and everyone else, really) would describe him as hot. Handsome. Sexy. Of course you agree, but you also see something underneath that. A softness that seems to blossom from the inside out.

You especially notice it today. Nothing is out of the ordinary, in fact it’s a perfectly mundane day. Days like these have become a favorite – mornings spent cuddling in bed, Steve cooking a late breakfast while you’re in charge of the coffee, jazz music playing from the speakers that inevitably leads to a slow dance. 

Steve’s in the kitchen bent over a cookbook (a gift from you on his birthday), the light from the small kitchen window covering him in a golden hue. His hair lightens a bit, the blue in his accentuating from the sunlight, making them almost sparkle. He’s got his tongue darted out in concentration and all you can think is how pretty he looks. You’ve never called him that before, and honestly you doubt anyone ever has. 

“Steve,” you call. He lifts his head up and meets your eyes, a soft smile tugging on his lips.

“Yes, love?”

“You look very pretty today.”

A blush forms on the tip of ears and slowly creeps onto his cheeks. No matter how many times you compliment him, whether it’s about his physical appearance or his personality, it has the same effect on him. 

“Pretty.” He repeats it like the word is foreign to him. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

You frown, even though you figured that. Most people’s go to is to sexualize him, and you’ve made it your mission to never make him feel that way. “Well, that’s a damn shame.”

“Eh, it’s no big deal.” Steve shrugs. “Thank you, though. You’re always too good to me.”

“Because you deserve it.”

Steve smiles again before leaning across the kitchen island for a kiss. He tastes like the chocolate chip pancake batter he’s been working on. Sweet, like him. 

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you too, Steve.”

“So uh, you really think I’m pretty?” He asks like he can’t believe it. Because he doesn’t.

“Of course. I don’t say things I don’t mean, especially with you. If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t say it again.”

“No, I…liked it,” he admits sheepishly, cheeks reddening again. 

“Well, I’ll make note of that,” you say with a teasing grin. “C’mon pretty boy, the food is gonna burn.” 

Steve shakes his head and laughs, turning back to the stove. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - you come to find out that the man you grew up alongside isn't the same after the royal ball.

warning - smut, dub-con, death, violence, creampie, kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, swearing, obsession.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Y/n-Odette and Steve had known each other since she was a baby. Upon Steve meeting her when she was born, their parents had been planning Steve’s marriage to Y/n-Odette. Over the years as the two grew, they despised each other, causing their parents to worry which they would then be forced to be together every summer. 

You had been dreading today. You wished to stay home but your father would not allow it. You sat in the carriage, staring out at the scenery, hoping you could distract your mind from having to see Steve again. 

Steve squirmed impatiently, thinking of anything that wasn’t you. A stupid, silly girl. Steve groaned quietly as he went to meet you in the ballroom until he stopped, his heart began to thump. Your smile made him feel weak in the knees. You had the same face, hair and eyes as Y/n-Odette but seemed to be someone quite different. 

“Hello, Steve.” You speak, smiling softly.

Steve couldn’t speak, he wondered if you were the same girl he had grown up with. He returned your smile, holding out his arm for you to take. He felt his heart skip as you accepted, taking his arm and together you walked onto the dance floor as the music began to play. Steve felt so happy, like he was dancing on air.

After that night, you and Steve had spent the rest of the summer together. Steve dreamed of you, he awoke each morning eager to see you. When he was with you he felt overjoyed, but he was also tongue-tied and could not tell you how he felt. Steve couldn’t imagine living without you, it was almost like an obsession had begun to grow within him. 

The summer had come to an end and it was your time to leave. You and Steve decided to dance all night at the royal ball, love burned so bright that the whole ballroom could practically feel it. You smiled up at the handsome prince but inside you could feel a tug of sadness. You couldn’t bear to leave him, he had given you so much love over the summer but he had never declared it. You hoped he would finally tell you how he felt tonight.

As the music came to a stop, so did you and Steve. You both shared a long glance, waiting, searching, hoping. 

Steve suddenly turned to the guests with a giant grin. “Arrange the wedding!”

The noise around you suddenly stopped, everyone was speechless. 

“Wait!” You called out. 

“What is it?” Steve pleaded, “You’re all I ever wanted. You’re beautiful!” 

“Thank you,” You replied, “But… What else?” You knew deep down in your soul that Steve loved you as much as you loved him, so surely he wanted you more than your beauty? You just needed him to say it. 

Steve stared blankly, he really had no clue. “What else?”

Your heart dropped. “Is beauty all that matters to you?” You asked, your father and his mother stood dumbfounded, they were so close. 

Steve swallowed hard. “I… Er… What else is there?” He asked.

Your heart sank even further. You had been wrong, Steve did not love you at all. You turned and swiftly exited the ballroom, taking the hopes of two kingdoms with you. 

You and Steve barely said goodbye as you left. He watched as you departed with shock and bitter disappointment. 

Steve sits as Lord Rogers paces the royal sitting room. “What else is there?” He mockingly spoke. “She says, ‘Is beauty all that matters?’ and you say, “What else is there?!” 

“It was dumb, I know.” Steve replies, hanging his head as he tries to think.

The weather outside was not helping his mood. It seemed to match the sadness he felt deep within. 

“You should write a book.” Rogers continued. “How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less.” Rogers leans forward, flicking Steve’s forehead. “Think!” He urged. “You must see something other than Y/n-Odette’s beauty!” 

“Of course I do, Rogers!” Steve begins to stumble as he thinks. “She’s… Well, you know. And then, well… Er…” 

Lord Rogers rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, I just don’t know how to say it!” Steve finally blurted out, and then he added. “I know, I’ll prove it to her. I’ll prove my love!” He nods to himself before muttering. “I’ll make her mine. I’ll make her see how I see her.” Steve stands, swiftly exiting the room as he begins to form a plan. 

Meanwhile inside the carriage, your father shakes his head sadly. “I just don’t understand.” He looks at you, watching as you continue to look out and into the forest. “What else did you want him to say?” 

You bite your bottom lip softly before letting it go as you turn to look at your father. “I just need to know that he loves me.” 

Suddenly the horses whined and bucked, causing the carriage to stop. “What on Earth–?” King William, your father turned the door handle and stepped out. Beyond the horses, a large man was blocking their path. Although the man stood in the shadows, King William recognised him instantly. He had watched him grow from a small child but he could feel something was off and with one look at you, he orders. “Stay inside, Y/n-Odette.” He closes the door and takes a step forward, his guards moved to encircle him, spears drawn.

“Steve, what are you doing out here so late? How did you get here?” The King had never felt this kind of fear before, it was as though something had possessed the man before him. He looks around, brows furrowed as he sees no way for Steve to have gotten there without them noticing. “You must be cold, my boy. Why don’t you hop inside our carriage and we can take you back to your mother. I am sure she’s worried.” 

Steve chuckles and the sound causes The King to stumble, it sounded so dark, so chilling. “I can’t have you do that, sir.” 

The Kind and Steve’s mother had always wanted the two of you together but at this moment, he didn’t know this man. At this moment, King William would do anything to protect you. He could feel strong amounts of power radiating off of Steve, darkness he had never felt before. King William steps back towards the carriage, his guards moving forward slightly, protecting him and you. 

Steve’s eyes sweep over them all, causing a shiver to run through their bodies. “Why are you scared?” Steve takes a small step forward, his foot sinking into the soil beneath him. 

King William clears his throat, straightening his back. “We are not scared. Why don’t you come back with us? Then we can take you back in the morning.” His head whips around as he hears you scream, his eyes widen as he sees Steve’s best friend pulling you from the carriage. 

Thumps can be heard and The King whips back around only for his eyes to widen as Steve stands toe-to-toe with him and his guards lay dead around them. “I said, I can’t have you do that, sir. I want Y/n-Odette and as long as she has you, she will never fully devote herself to me.” Steve towers over the short King, making him seem as tiny as an ant. “I may have screwed up this evening but she will be mine.” 

“S–Ste–” King William is cut off by Steve’s hand gripping his throat, his eyes bulged and skin begins to turn purple. 

Everything had turned black after you were pulled from the carriage, unaware of what had happened with your father. You woke up surrounded by water but you felt weird causing you to look down, shock and fear shoot through you as you see white. You were no longer in your body, instead of a human body it had been replaced with that of a swans. 

“Y/n–Odette.” Hope ran through you as you heard Steve’s voice, your eyes darting around until they landed on his large figure. “You’re finally awake, my little swan.” That hope that had built inside of you had come crashing down once you realised that he wasn’t there to save you. Your body moves, gliding across the water, distancing yourself away from the man you thought you had known. “Don’t let the small spell make you sad, Y/n–Odette. It doesn’t last the whole day, as soon as the moon comes up…” 

Steve didn’t need to finish, creeping across the lake the moonlight touched your wing. Water began to swirl from below, your swan-like self rose upward in a shimmering golden-grey light, transforming you into your human form. 

Steve grins. “That’s how it will be until you are mine, Little Swan.” He said as you landed gently on the shore. “You have to be on the lake, of course and when the moonlight touches your wings, you’re human!” 

You turned away from him, betrayal blossoming within you. Your thoughts went to your father. “My father… Is he okay?” 

“Define okay…” 

You spun around, eyes wide and full of tears. “What did you do to him?!” 

Steve merely shrugs. “I may have killed him.” 

You gasp, reeling back as the tears begin to slowly fall. “Y–you…” 

Steve moves closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek but you move your head. His brows furrow as anger seeps in but he shakes it off, allowing you this. “Killed him, yes. I had to, otherwise I couldn’t have you, Y/n-Odette.”

“You can’t have me now, Steve! You killed my father! You kidnapped me and trapped me at this lake forever!” Your eyes meet his, so many emotions swirl around behind them. “I could’ve gotten over you only liking me for my looks but this… This is too much. You’re not the man I thought you were. The man I grew to love…” 

“Now, don’t speak like that, Y/n-Odette. Sooner or later you are going to cave into being mine. You’ll learn to love this version of me.” He grabs your chin, ignoring how you fight against his hold and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t fight it, little swan. You’ll be mine soon.” And with those words, he leaves. Leaving you alone and broken, your body hits the ground as sobs break free, your pain filling the forest around you. 

Days, weeks, maybe even months go by without you giving into Steve and his advances. No matter what he did, you remained silent and distant. You began to enjoy your swan form, using it as an excuse to escape your human problems. 

On the other hand, Steve was slowly losing it. He began taking his anger out on everyone else, those who loved and admired him, now feared him. His mother thought that it had something to do with your disappearance and your father’s death. Only if she knew the truth would she hate the man her son became.

Steve grew impatient, he didn’t understand why you weren’t his already. Why did you have to be so stubborn? Did you not see how much he loved you? “What else do I have to do, Buck? She’s supposed to be mine.” He put his head in his hands. His best friend watched him from the doorway, arms crossed. 

“I don’t think you’re being rough enough. You’re being too sweet on her, Steve. A woman like her needs rough handling, someone to dominate her.” Bucky pushes off of the wall and moves closer to his friend. “You need to stop playing Mr. Nice guy.” 

Steve nods, standing and patting Buck’s shoulder with a smile. “You’re right, Buck.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk. “I guess it’s time to go get my girl.” And with that, he walks out of the castle and into the woods. 

Steve reached his destination the moment moonlight shone on the lake, watching golden-grey swirls appear as your form changes from swan to human. He grins, sauntering straight towards you. “Little swan. As beautiful as ever.” He shakes off the strange feeling that appears when you brush off his words, already ignoring and moving away from him. Too bad Steve had already reached you before you could distance yourself further. 

He pulls you closer to him, gripping your chin roughly as he forces you to look him in the eyes. “I don’t appreciate this attitude, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine and I am going to make you see that whether you like it or not.” You shiver under his hold as he growls. Steve pulls you over to a tree and pushes you up against it, your dress bunching up against your hips as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Your pulse quickens and your eyes widen, you push against his shoulders with poor attempts. Deep down you wanted this, you just didn’t like the person he became. “N–no, no. Steve. You… You can’t do this. Please.” 

Steve caresses your cheek, smiling almost too sweetly at you. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine. We’re meant to be together.” His hand moves, gripping your chin with his thumb. His eyes fall to your lips as your mouth opens slightly. “I’m going to make you my wife, my Queen, little swan. Then you will bear my children.” 

You shake your head, ignoring how you throb at the thought. “I’m done waiting for you to give in, Y/n-Odette. You need to understand that you’re already mine.” Steve presses against you, feeling you throb against his clothed cock. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, little swan.” A small whine slips through your lips. “Just give in. Let me make you feel good.” You gasp as he pulls you into a kiss, all thoughts leaving your mind as his lips begin to move, pulling you deeper into his hold. Steve nips your bottom lip, sliding his tongue inside as a moan escapes your mouth. 

You barely notice as he frees himself, sliding his hardened cock between your lips. Your grip tightens on his shoulders, pulling away slightly. “S–Steve…” 

His hand moves, caressing your cheek. “Shh, little swan. It’s okay.” Your mouth drops and eyes roll back as he slides into you, filling you to the brim with one thrust. “That’s my good girl, feel so good for me.” Steve grunts, pressing you into the tree harder while he holds back from roughly fucking into you. You go limp in his arms, never having felt this amount of pleasure before, not even the times when you had touched yourself. 

“O–oh… Steve…” 

Steve smirked to himself, “Is that all you needed, little swan? My cock? If I had known all I had to do was fuck you to get you like this, I would’ve done it along time ago.” You want to argue back, huff and disagree with him but he was right, you couldn’t think when he was inside of you. His grip on you tightens before he suddenly begins to fuck you, slowly pulling out only to roughly thrust back in. Your moans trapped in your throat and your back arches, pressing close to his. 

Steve grunts, his eyes locked on your face. He felt smug that the pleasure you were feeling was caused by him. He changes the angle of his hips, his cock sliding deeper inside of you, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. Your hands grip Steve’s back, nails clawing into any skin you can find.

Steve’s hand moves up, his thumb swiping the necklace that lay around your neck. His hips not stopping as he stares deep into your eyes. “The moment I gave you this necklace, Y/n-Odette was the moment you became mine, there was no stopping this fate. You’re stuck with me, little swan.” 

Your walls clench around him as he claims you. His thrusts pick up as he begins to pound into you, chasing his release. He grips your hips and neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. The moment his lips meet yours, it feels like your mind has become cloudy, unable to think about anything other than the feeling of him inside you. You didn’t know how someone’s lips had the power to wipe your mind clean of any thoughts. 

Steve shoves a hand between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and immediately pressing on it. Rolling it between his fingers before stroking it while his cock continues to hit deep inside. “Cum for me, little swan. Let me feel you milk my cock.” Steve groans, pressing closer to you as he whispers against your lips. 

Your head falls back against the tree, feeling your cunt pulse and throb as Steve continues to rub your swollen clit and thrust against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Go on, little swan. Cum for me.” Your eyes cross as Steve buries himself deep inside of you, your toes curl as you squeeze him. You feel your orgasm ripple through you, your moans echoing throughout the forest.

“My good little swan.” He growls out as he fucks into you before his cum shoots out, painting your walls a pretty white. As Steve softens inside of you, he pulls back to look at your face and grins almost evilly, the back of his hand stroking your cheek. “You’re going to make such a pretty Queen, little swan.”

You would learn that you may think you know someone but everyone has a little bit of darkness lurking within and you just happened to be the target.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.