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buckys-little-belle · 1 year

Text

Mafia Au (Part Three)

Mr.R

Mafia!Stucky x Little!Reader (They/Them pronouns used)

Warnings - Sad reader, crying, eating of goldfish, mentions of 'stalking', just the boys being fluffy

Notes - IDK if I like this one, it's gone through a few re-writes, but I'm putting off other writting and my ADHD took that as a cue to get back on this instead, so I hope you enjoy!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

+ + + + + +

“Boss!” A loud voice boomed, Steve and Bucky both waking up with a start, their necks strained. “Boss!” The voice called again, though this time closer. “Boss!”

“Wha’s going on?” Y/n mumbled, sitting up slightly.

“I don’t know yet, Little Dove.” Bucky turned to them, Steve standing up to address whoever woke them.

“Boss!”

“Peter! Do not repeat yourself.” Steve said sternly as he opened the bedroom’s door, a weary Peter on the other side. “Have you ever heard of a phone call?”

“I have.” He said timidly. “Which is why I called you twenty three times before barging in.” His words got more confident as he continued.

“Right.” Steve sighed, his phone in his room, Bucky’s too. “Okay. Okay, what’s going on then?” Steve asked, his hands whipping down his face, trying to get rid of his tired expression.

“It’s about, about, you know.” Peter tried to keep the conversation light in front of Y/n.

“No Pete, we don’t know.” Bucky chimed in, turning the corner, Y/n in hand.

“It’s about R U M L O W.” He spelled the name out.

“Oh! R U M L O W that’s how you spell our last name woop woop!” Y/n sang a little jingle and did a little shimmy, Bucky smiling at them, as Steve looked to Pete with anger in his eyes.

“Very good little dove.” Bucky cooed, swinging their hand a little.

“Why don’t we take this to an office?” Steve asked Peter, his arm gesturing for them to leave the room, Y/n frowning as she saw the two begin to leave.

“Wai’ Steve!” Y/n called out unexpectedly. “Don’ wan’ you t’leave me!” They broke free of Bucky’s grasp, rushing to Steve instead.

“We have to go talk business, My Dove.” He softly smiled, bending down slightly to give them a forehead kiss.

“Righ’.” They frowned and let go of him, walking back to bed without another word.

Bucky and Steve both watched confused, Y/n’s shoulders curled in slightly, yet no crying or protesting in sight. “We’ll meet you in my office, Pete.” Bucky cut in. “Close the door Steve.” He said as the boy walked away, the two men realized that something was definitely wrong. “Dove?” Bucky questioned, him and steve both standing in the archway, Y/n curled up in bed, a stuffie in hand.

“Is th’ business over?” They asked hopefully, perking up slightly.

“Not yet.”

“‘kay, I promise I’ll wait really good.” Y/n nodded their head, curling up even tighter.

“You don’t have to stay in bed, Dove.” Bucky shook his head, his heart breaking at the sight in front of him, something that seemed to happen too often.

“Yes I do.” They said, confusion lacing their words. “‘Babies stay in bed while the big boys talk’” They recited in a monotone voice.

“Buck, I can’t.” Steve whispered, unable to stay calm, Bucky nodding his head knowingly, taking control of the situation instead of it being a joint effort.

“I didn’t think you would want to sit in a business meeting, Dovey.” Bucky admitted. “We don’t have any toys in our offices yet.”

“I don’ wan’ toys, jus’ wan’ yous.” Y/n teared up. “‘m jus’ scared.” A sob broke through. “I don’ know the house, or anyone here, an’ I jus’ ‘m really scared, and I wan’ go home.”

Steve couldn’t help himself, he climbed into Y/n’s bed and scooped them up sitting them in his lap, their head in his neck as tears fell down their cheeks, little hiccups could be heard. “You can’t go home, Little Dove, It’s not safe.” Steve said, his words soft and comforting. “Why don’t you sit with us in our meeting? And then after breakfast we can go to that little toy store you used to pass.” He offered, knowing that maybe adding some more of their past life into their day to day could help the sudden transition.

“Really?” They pulled back, whipping their tears with their hands, hope splashed across their face.

“Pinky promise.” Steve smiled, the two sealing the deal. “But let’s find you a sweater, it’s cold upstairs.” He stood up, Y/n in his arms.

“‘Buck, I can’t’” Bucky teased under his breath as the two walked past him.

The sight was yet again one that the Mafia bosses usually wouldn’t have been found in before today, Y/n sat on Steve’s lap, green sippy cup in hand, Bucky next to them holding a bag of goldfish, handing a few to Y/n here and there, and sneaking a few for himself. “Hi Peter!” Y/n whispered, waving to the familiar face.

“Hi.” He whispered back, already loving the addition to the group.

“Pete.” Steve’s voice was loud, everyone in the room listening intently the moment he spoke. “What’s going on?”

“Right, right.” Pete was fidgeting slightly, hating being the one to break the news. “Well, Mr.R was seen on the property’s cameras last night.”

“What?” Bucky sat up straight, Y/n looking to him, worry in their eyes at his sudden moves, though the conversation was going straight over their head.

“He was seen taking pictures of both the front, and back of the house.” Sam finally cut in, handing a few photos to Bucky, who showed them to Steve, the man’s hand covering Y/n’s eyes as he looked them over, Y/n’s giggle at least lightning the mood. “We’ve upped the security, both inside, and outside the house, plus there are extra men posted in our territory, we made sure to call anyone we could to keep.” He cleared his throat. “To keep the bird safe.” His words hiding the true meaning. ‘To keep your new found little, who was and is in need of a safe place to live, unharmed from their brother.’

“Thank you, Sam.” Steve nodded, knowing he was right to appoint Sam as head of security, his skills clearly proven to be efficient and helpful, even though they are the result of a hiccup.

“I suggest you three go up to the lake house, no one knows where it is, you can let the bird settle in without a bunch of our men watching their every move.” Sam added, his words quiet knowing that the suggestion was the opposite of what Steve and Bucky wanted. Dove was supposed to be able to grow comfortable with them in their forever home, with the newly made bedroom, surrounded by every day life, and yet a bump in the road made all of those things almost impossible.

“Thanks Sam.” Bucky said clearly agitated.

“Anything else, Pete?” Steve asked, hoping to change the subject to something more hopeful, and to stop the insanely petty staring contest both Bucky and Sam were participating in.

“Nope, nothing else.” Peter smiled, though he hoped to be allowed to go soon, the conversation stressful and boring.

“Everyone’s dismissed.” Bucky said in return, a handful of goldfish outstretched to Y/n, them picking a few goldfish up, waving as everyone left the room. “How are you feeling, Little Dove?”

“‘m fine.” They answered, looking back and forth at the two men. “We go to the toys now?”

Steve sighed, looking to Bucky before speaking. “We’ve got to eat breakfast now.” He convinced himself it wasn’t a lie, he was just withholding the truth a little.

“We did!” Y/n giggled, holding their hand up to Steve, a few goldfish left.

“Crackers aren’t breakfast!” Bucky said in a dramatically silly tone, Y/n placing their hand on his head as they nodded.

“Yes, i’s breakfast!”

“We’re going to have some waffles, Dove.” Steve interrupted, a smile plastered on his face at the image, two people he loved being silly with one another, something he would get to see for the rest of his life.

“Wha’s a waffle?” They asked, puppy eyes out, mouth open in excitement.

“It’s like a pancake with little walls for your syrup.” Bucky explained.

“What’s a pancake then?”

“Dove.” Steve said in a more authoritative tone, wishing the silliness away.

“What?” They asked. “I don’, why’s you mad?” They asked, hands in their lap fumbling with their fingers.

“Dove, look at me.” Bucky asked. “Have you ever had a pancake?” He spoke with a genuine tone, Y/n shaking their head ‘no’ in response. “Okay, that’s okay.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, his chest suddenly heavy, realizing that maybe his Dove really did think crackers were for breakfast. “I think you’ll really like them.” Bucky picked Y/n up from Steve’s arms.

“I’ll be down in a second, I have some things I need to do.” Steve was clearly seething, about to do something regarding someone all three of them knew, Y/n all too well.

“Don’t do anything rash, Steve, just take a few breaths.” Bucky tried to sooth him, rubbing circles on Y/n’s back to keep them calm too.

“I should have been rash months ago, Buck, I can’t just sit here and pretend like this guy hasn’t ruined people's lives.” Steve was on his phone, no doubt calling in backup for whatever plan he had coming.

“Does Steve’s rash hurt bad?” Y/n whispered to Bucky, him smiling at their words, reveling in the softness they exuded, and the pure kindness that radiated off of them.

“It does, Dovey, but he’s going to fix it.” He walked out of the office, Y/n snuggling closer.

“Good.” They whispered.

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luviebuuggie · 1 year

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Bath Time <3

this is the first fic I'm posting, like ever O_O, so I hope you all enjoy! If you would like to send me prompts, ideas, ANYTHING hahaa, feel free to, and ill try to write out a story for it !! <33

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

Warnings: DDLG, bath time, washing your hair, cute nicknames, idk 🤷‍♀️

Pairings: Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary: Bath time with your favorite bath toys, and your Daddies!

Word Count: 1,842

*･༓☾:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

“Lovebug,” Bucky spoke as he entered the playroom. "It's bath time, bubs." Catching your attention from your coloring book on the carpeted floor and glance up at him.

“But Daddy,” drawing the word out for more exaggeration. “I haven’t finished my blue unicorn yet…” you sigh with a slight frown.

Bucky kneels down next to you, resting his large hand against the back of your head reassuringly, and gives you a slight smile. “I know, bubs, but you can continue working on it in the morning, okay?” he says as he rubs his hand over your hair.

Still with a slight frown but hope now gleaming in your eyes, you reply, “Promise Daddy?” While staring into Bucky's big eyes. You study his face to make sure his next reply is truthful.

Bucky stares down at you, a loving smile overtaking his face because of how precious his little baby is. “Of course, I promise, Angel. Now, how about we get cleaned up and ready for bedtime?” You nod as he picks you up and sets you down on his hip, walking out of your playroom and towards the bathroom.

Leaning your head down on his relatively comfortable shoulder, you ask, “Could I have a snack after my bath Daddy?”

This question receiving a humorous laugh from Bucky. “Sure, Doll.”

♡༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

Bucky lifts you into the now full bathtub, steam seeping into the room nicely. Sitting down in hot water, your body immediately relaxes as you let out a sigh.

Bucky slowly sits down beside the tub, reaching over to grab something. “You want toys, baby?” He says, holding up a basket of all your toys explicitly designed for the tub.

Your eyes lit up, gaze catching on the rubber ducks and the bath crayons. “Duckies ‘and crayons, Daddy!” Excitement laces every word.

Bucky knew how much you loved your bath toys. Your cute reaction never failed to make him laugh. As much as Bucky loves your adorable little reactions, he still wants you to remember your manners. Pulling the basket away momentarily, he asks, “What do we say, Doll?”

You grin up at Bucky. “Please, Daddy?” Your hands softly splash around in the water as you squirm.

Bucky’s eyes squint at you, pleased at your answer. He hands over the basket. Left hand grabbing onto the side, you peer into the basket full of toys and spot all your favorites. You grab all the duckies and start placing them into the water. Then you spot the bath crayons you love to draw with and hurriedly grab every color and set them on the edge of the tub with the biggest smile imaginable on your face.

“Got yourself a whole collection, don't you, Doll?” Bucky says with a chuckle, putting the basket back down on the floor. With his legs spread out before him, he leans back on his hands to watch you play for a while.

You stare at all the toys now in the bathtub and try to decide what to start with first. Do I play with the duckies first? Or the markers first? You wonder to yourself. You choose to start with the markers and draw them a home! You grab the blue marker and get to work on drawing a house for your duckies as Bucky sits quietly to watch you work with a smile on his face.

♡༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

“Is that your drawing, LoveBug?” Steve asks as he walks into the large bathroom. Bucky gazed up at his husband. Steve walks forward and sits on the bathtub's edge to see your work closer.

Peering up at him, you smile and reply, “Yeah, Dada! For my duckies!” Steve gently places his hand on your back, slowly moving in up and down. You continue to look up at him, waiting for a reply. As Steve began to open his mouth to say something, your impatience got the better of you as you interrupted him before he could speak. “It's a house, Dada. For my duckies.” You remark, as though you have to state the obvious.

This causes laughter to erupt from both Bucky and Steve. Both men can hardly contain their laughter at how you stated your sentence. You weren't quite sure why they were laughing. Steve knows what a house is, right? You think to yourself as confusion flows through your little-space mind. You ignore the quiet laughter and continue drawing, adding little flowers to the windowsill.

Steve, still quietly laughing and failing at his attempts to stop, says, “I know it’s a house, LoveBug. It looks very good too. You did such a good job, Baby!” He gives you a small pat on the head.

“Thank you, Dada.” You smile at the rewarding words, feeling pleased with yourself.

“Okay, I’m gonna go prepare Doll a snack for after her bath.” Bucky stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of his shirt. “Could you wash her hair?” Bucky asked, directing his question toward Steve.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got it.” Steve replied, moving over to grab the shampoo bottle. “It shouldn't take long.” Turning his head around to face his husband, he gave Bucky a quick, intimate smile.

Bucky nodded, smiling back at his husband and exiting the bathroom.

Turning back to you, Steve grabbed a cup and filled it with water. “You ready to wash your hair, Doll?”

Facing away from Steve, you squeal your approval and cover your eyes. The water swooshes down your long hair. Steve repeats the action, fully drenching your hair to prepare for the shampoo. He sets the cup down and grabs the shampoo, squeezing out just enough to massage your roots.

As Steve starts rubbing the shampoo into your hair, all you can think about is how lovely the feeling of his big, warm hands massaging your head is. You cherish every moment, the way you can feel his fingertips gliding through your hair, and the perfect hot bath water warming you up. You could stay here in this moment forever.

Steve pulls his hands from your hair and grabs the cup, filling it up with water once more. “You ready, Doll?”

You give him a little thumbs up with your right hand. “Yes, Dada.” You say as quietly as a whisper, knowing Steve would hear you no matter how quiet you were. You quickly, but carefully as to not hurt yourself, slap your hands over your eyes, causing a calm giggle from Steve.

Steve pours the water down your long hair, using his left hand to guide his fingertips through the strands and help the water remove all the shampoo. He repeats this action a few times until he’s satisfied. “Now we’ve just gotta do the conditioner and you'll be ready to go, Baby.” Steve remarks, attempting to convey a bit of enthusiasm in his voice to help encourage you.

“Can I play with my duckies while you put in the conditioner?” You ask him, rotating around to face him better.

“Of course, you can, Doll.” He says and begins to condition your hair.

You grab your yellow duckie, deciding his name is Albert, while Steve strokes your hair gently. You determine that your duckies will live together in the house you drew, not including Donald because he’s in time out. You set Donald on the edge of the tub farthest away from you, causing Steve's hands to falter as you move.

“What are you doing, Doll? Why is that duckie going all the way over there?” Steve asks, resuming his massage on your hair.

“That’s Donald, Dada. He’s in time out.” You say nonchalantly.

Your reply has Steve raising his eyebrows and halting his hands. “Donald the duck is in time out?” He questioned, beginning to laugh.

You simply hum in the affirmative to his question, too focused on playing with your duckies to notice his laughter.

Trying to contain himself, he ask’s, “What’s he in timeout for, baby?”

You turn around to face Steve, slightly amused by his laughter but keeping your pure look of seriousness etched on your face. “Because Donald stole Puddle's car keys, then burned down all of Daisy’s daffodils! It was so mean of him, Dada!” You exclaim.

Steve bursts out in laughter, unable to contain himself any longer. He doubled down, causing you to quietly giggle at his bizarre reaction.

“Dada, it’s not funny!” You declare even as giggles are escaping your mouth while you speak.

“I'm sorry, Doll.” Steve says, his laughter slowly starting to fade as he calms down.

You and Steve make eye contact, and Steve can't help the chuckles that leave his mouth while he covers it with his hand.

Once Steve finally settles after his fit of laughter, he says, “Okay, Doll. Let’s wash this conditioner out of your hair.”

You turn back around, facing away from Steve, and get into your position to cover your eye’s with your hands.

Steve takes his time rinsing out your hair, careful as to not pour any of the water down your face. Once he’s content with your hair, he tells you, “You can move your hands now, Doll. I just need to clean your body then you'll be good to go, Okay?”

You nod and proceed to play with your duckies again as Steve grabs a washcloth. Steve carefully clean’s you, thoroughly washing every bit of you possible. Once he feels that he has cleaned all up, he stands and grabs a towel. Steve grasp’s your favorite towel, a fluffy small towel in your favorite color, long enough to keep your entire body warm and cozy. The best part? It has a small hood with bunny ears!

“Stand up, Baby.” Steve says as he holds the towel up for you.

Your ear’s perk up at your Dada’s words, and you quickly stand up and face him. Steve gives you a small smile and wraps you up in the fluffy towel, picking you up from the tub and setting your feet on the floor. He starts rubbing his hands over your towel-wrapped body to help you dry off, doing so quickly causing a few giggles to escape you.

Steve, smiling ear to ear due to your giggles, kneel’s down a bit closer to you. “You ready to go get jammies on, Baby?” He says with excitement lacing his voice.

“Yeah!” You exclaim.

Steve gleams at you, picking you up and setting you on his hip as he exits the bathroom. You cuddle your head into his chest, feeling more content and sleepy than ever in your Dada’s arms. Right as you begin to close your eyes, you feel Steve handing you over to Bucky, causing you to peek your eyes open and squeak in excitement over seeing your Daddy. Both your Daddies chuckle, smiling at their little baby. You cuddle into Bucky’s chest, closing your eyes while Bucky gently sways you side to side.

All you feel is content happiness knowing that you're safe in your Daddy’s arms, and will soon be cuddled between the two super soldiers in bed.

༓☾ ｡:･ﾟ☆*

The end! <3

#daddy!bucky #daddies!stucky #stucky x little reader #little!reader #little space #bucky barnes x steve rogers x little reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky x little!reader #steve x little!reader #comfort #luviebuuggie #daddy steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #agere #agere little #daddy stucky

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haleyhunwritess · 1 year

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OKAY have you heard of letting someone cry themselves to sleep if theyre having sleep problems and can't sleep without their caregiver😅😅? Would you be willing to write something like that for little!reader with daddy!stucky? Maybe they had a nightmare and cant sleep by themselves so steve wants to try this but bucky doesn't want to? idk if that makes sense hahaha

𝐁𝐞𝐝𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

warnings: FLUFF, mentions of nightmare and sleep problems, daddy!stucky x little!reader

a/n: I AM SO SOFT FOR THIS, I'm struggling to finish my assignment that's due tmr morning so I wanted to work on something else to get my mind off it, and what is better than stucky taking care of little!reader hahah

Ever since you had a nightmare a few weeks ago, you refused to go to sleep unless either Bucky or Steve were with you. For a few days, Steve was by your side whenever you asked him to cuddle you during nap time or bedtime. It was a good thing that their work schedule was so flexible that they could work from home sometimes and be there to take care of you. However, Steve soon realized that if they continue to do this then you would never be able to go to sleep by yourself.

Steve decided that they would start by only cuddling with you during bedtime, but for nap time they would leave after tucking you in, and if they were weren't home then you'd have to get yourself ready for nap time. Of course, Bucky didn't agree with this. He found it impossible to just let you cry it out until you fell asleep. Steve eventually convinced him by telling him they need to be sure you can take care of yourself if they ever have to leave you alone for a few days because of work or an emergency.

After a week or so, Steve noticed that whenever they weren't working from home, Bucky would always go home for lunch and then come back after an hour or so. At first, Steve thought that maybe Bucky was just checking up on you. However, he decided to check up on Bucky one day and caught him cuddling you during nap time. You were asleep and didn't need Bucky there but he wanted to stay just in case you woke up. He didn't even notice Steve until he called his name.

He groaned, getting out of bed and walking into the hallway to talk to Steve, "Look I know-"

"Bucky, I already told you she needs this."

"But what if she has a nightmare? Or what if she's hurt? Maybe it's not such a bad idea that one of us is here all the time." He shrugged, looking down at the ground.

"We're not having this discussion again." Steve mumbled, dragging him downstairs to drive him back to work.

Once they returned to work, Steve felt good about their talk on the way there. He made some good points that they need to be sure you can take care of yourself in case they're not around. He also pointed out that this might help you get over the nightmare, and perhaps get over your fear of sleeping by yourself. Bucky nodded along and agreed that those were all good points. Steve was proud of him. He didn't think Bucky would agree to this so quickly.

Steve decided that maybe they would go home early today, so he stopped by Bucky's office to get him, he wasn't there. His stuff wasn't there so maybe he already left but he never leaves without telling him so that was a bit odd. He tried to call Bucky but he didn't pick up. He decided maybe he should go home to check if he's already there.

When he got home, he noticed both you and Bucky watching a movie on the couch. You were lying down on top of him, all snuggled up while he had his arms wrapped around you. Bucky groaned as he noticed Steve standing in the living room next to them.

"Oh for God's sake Bucky, we just talked about this!" Steve exclaimed, as he picked you up.

Bucky quickly sat up and tried to explain himself, "No no it's okay, she couldn't sleep so we're just watching a movie until she feels sleepy again."

"Bucky we talked about this..." Steve carefully put you down on the ground before bending down next to you, "Hey bubba I think I saw Ellie Bunny sitting at the table by herself, why don't you go grab her for naptime, huh?"

You quickly smiled and nodded, running over to the table to grab your beloved plushie.

Steve sat down on the couch next to Bucky, groaning, "Look we can't keep doing this. She needs this."

"I can't help it, if I hear her crying I'm gonna go make sure she's okay." Bucky said, getting up from the couch to turn the TV off.

"I know you only wanna comfort her, and these mama bear instincts are adorable," Bucky opened his mouth to interrupt as soon as he heard the words 'mama bear instincts' but Steve continued "but she needs to be able to sleep by herself. She'll never be able to do that if you just keep coddling her. You think it doesn't break my heart to hear her cry and not go to her?"

"I-"

"This is for her own good, okay?" Steve sighed, getting up from the couch to help you get tucked back in for nap time.

After dinner, Steve decided that since you had Bucky next to you for nap time, maybe they could try to have you sleep on your own during bedtime. Bucky flat out refused as soon as heard the idea but Steve wouldn't budge.

Eventually, you tired yourself out from all the crying and fell asleep. Bucky decided that if he heard you crying at any point during the night then he'll bring you back to bed. Steve told him that that wouldn't be necessary.

In the middle of the night, Bucky reached over to Steve's side but found it empty. He quickly got up and walked over to your room. He quietly chuckled to himself when he noticed Steve next to you, humming softly and brushing his fingers through your hair. Steve groaned lightly as he noticed Bucky,

"What happened to-"

"Not a word. We'll discuss it tomorrow, go back to bed."

taglist/moots: @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @mustacherrylover @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11 (i made this a while ago but let me know if u want me to remove you from the list🥺)

#daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky x reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x little!reader #bucky fluff #steve x little!reader #steve fluff #steve rogers fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic

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leelee1234love · 12 days

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My Masterlist

(18+ Minors DNI!!)

(I currently write for these characters! I do write smut! And I would love to take requests :)

If you see any of these signs on my Masterlists this is what they mean :)

🧡= Little!Reader Fics

💛= My fav Fics

*=Smut/Nsfw

I hope you enjoy reading!!! :)

(Check what’s coming soon)

Tap to see what’s coming soon ^^^^^^

(All my Series!!!)

^^^^^^Tap to see all my series

<Mob!Characters Masterlist>

Hope you enjoy my writing!!!! :) 🧡💛

…

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catastrxblues · 11 months

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i love ao3 but tumblr fanfics just hit different 😩😩

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hungharrington · 6 months

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a little less conversation, a little more action, please

[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.

Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk.

Sex.

You just don’t get it.

Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation.

And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled.

You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.

It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off.

The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.

You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished.

His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would.

Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’.

“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.”

You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise.

And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was.

“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in.

When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy.

It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are.

And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.

… Enter Steve Harrington.

Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.

His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.

One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what.

It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more.

You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful.

And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too.

Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying.

(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.)

And today has been nothing short of wonderful.

A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day.

You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool.

Which is a spectacle all in itself.

The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view.

Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring.

Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard.

Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.

“Good book?” He asks sweetly.

He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.

When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question.

“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…”

Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.

“It’s…?”

He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is.

It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want.

You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.”

Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.”

He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead.

“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.”

Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.”

You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.

Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page.

Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.”

You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him.

Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend.

“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it.

“What?”

Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…”

He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over.

“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?”

You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?”

You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask.

“Maybe, a kiss?”

Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin.

“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?”

A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right.

When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.”

Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to.

The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides.

You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss.

You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve.

“You do… right?”

Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question.

“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you.

“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’

Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you.

“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.”

How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what?

That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but—

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.”

He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern.

“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?”

Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order.

“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat.

“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again.

“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“

“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead.

“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.”

Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said.

You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt.

“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own.

“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.”

Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well.

“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly.

The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know.

Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you.

It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem.

“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.”

That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking.

“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.

“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them.

A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.”

You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better.

“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins.

“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases.

“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.”

Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?”

“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?”

Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.”

He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.

“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours.

The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.”

You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true.

“…You’re sure?”

“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“

A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?”

You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck.

“Why don’t you find out?”

The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle.

Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.

Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good.

Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside.

He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming.

“Do you wanna keep—“

“—yes.”

You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you.

Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed.

Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does.

“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.”

You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed.

“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.”

Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.

He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit.

“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves.

“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.”

Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?”

His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.”

Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle.

Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin.

The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.”

He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw.

“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours.

“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.”

Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains.

You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling.

You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold.

Thank God he’s yours.

He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.

You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue.

Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed.

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?”

You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve.

But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready.

Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him.

You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help.

Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?”

“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth.

“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.”

The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere.

“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.”

You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again.

You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish?

“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood.

Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.

“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum.

“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”

You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips.

“Steve…” you sigh out.

He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot.

“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out.

To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.

“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?”

Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan.

“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him.

Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve.

Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire.

A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be.

The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds.

A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question.

You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts.

“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.”

He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr.

“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin.

You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion.

“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.”

You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited.

His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off.

He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips.

Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself.

Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut.

“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer.

He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans.

“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him.

“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.”

Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought.

His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider.

Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down.

There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin.

“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.”

“I got you,” He murmurs in response. “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly.

He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.”

You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip.

For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you.

“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.”

Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.”

Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name.

His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets.

You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him.

It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake.

He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry.

It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently.

And he holds your hand the whole way through.

You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so.

Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you.

Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own.

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.”

You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly.

You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin.

“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“

You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets.

“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you.

“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.

He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows.

“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.”

Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.”

“What? That was— that was like second base.”

Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.”

Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared.

“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.”

Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes.

You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own.

Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all.

#uhm. basically don’t read into this #who minds a little (or a whooooole lot) of projection!#not me! :D #🧌…. part two?#steve harrington smut #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve x reader smut #steve harrington #jay writes

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bethsvrse · 3 days

Text

please PLEASE learn how to tag your fanfics. Don’t tag fluff when it’s angst, don’t tag smut when it’s fluff and please don’t tag characters that ARENT EVEN MENTIONED IN THE FIC!!!!

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biteofcherry · 4 months

Text

Drip

stucky x female reader

Bucky Barnes x female reader x Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

summary: Bucky and Steve graciously make your fantasy of watching them together come true. But it comes for a price. One you may have not be prepared for.

warnings: smut; consensual; D/s undertones; power imbalance; hints of voyeurism; blowjob; handjob; orgasm denial; a small dose of degradation

Masterlist

You could never keep a poker face and you were rather shitty at being stealthy, so it wasn't a surprise that the two supersoldiers noticed the glances you stole their way on occasions.

They probably recognized more than glances, since you couldn't help but feel hot all over and clenched whenever you saw the two of them kiss. Or show any brief touch of intimacy.

Their relationship wasn't a secret, but Steve and Bucky weren't big on public displays of affection.

Around the compound they acted professional and sweet, presenting a healthy dose of love for each other. Perfect, charming gentlemen.

It only spurred your imagination further, as you spent nights in your bed with your hand between your thighs, thinking of how passionate they were with each other when no one was looking.

When they cornered you in an empty corridor, after you did a quick inventory of the quinjet post-mission, you had no quick wit to bullshit your way out of the trouble.

However, the expected lecture on being inappropriate (and perhaps relocated to a different post for making them feel uncomfortable and objectified) didn't happen.

Instead, you were invited to join them in the shower.

You really should've said no. Show them that your fantasies had their limit and you weren't a perv eager to become a true voyeur.

But there was something in the way they spoke to you that was coercive.

Steve’s tone wasn’t exactly an order, but it was shaped like an invitation you couldn’t refuse, or else there would be consequences (even if no threat was laid).

Bucky somehow steered your body, so that you were already walking along with them while they revealed they’ve caught you staring at them on multiple occasions. They weren't a flirtatious types, but they were acutely aware when someone desired them. Especially when that someone was really bad at hiding that craving.

Embarrassment swallowed you whole, making you squirm as you padded between the two men. Then a rush of adrenaline and excitement won, clouding your better judgment as they asked for your final decision.

If it was to be your last day of work for the Avengers, you would at least be an unemployed pervert who got to see Captain America and Winter Soldier naked and touching.

A currency no salary could match.

Though your bravado dispersed as you stepped into the showers few minutes later.

You felt uncertain as you took small steps across the wood-imitating tiles. The spa-like design of the compound’s bathrooms not working its calming magic at the moment.

As you approached the two men, who were already naked and standing under the sprays, your own nudity and body consciousness made you curl in on yourself.

"Are you sure it's okay?" You asked, stopping a few steps away.

You weaved one of your arms across your breasts, the other nervously around your middle as you squeezed your thighs.

For a fleeting moment you hoped they’d change their mind and you get to run away to hide in shame. It would be mortifying, but less than actually exposing yourself and your reactions to them.

Funny how it was supposed about you watching them, but turned into you being put into a more vulnerable position.

Somehow it skipped your horny mind that you would be naked and alone with two handsome, very powerful and overwhelming men.

Their heated, dark gazes locked on you made your heart rate accelerate, enhancing the sense of being the main entertainment of this whole arrangement.

Suddenly, the charming, protective Captain and sweet, quiet Soldier were gone and instead you were facing the stifling flame of hunger of potential predators. It was more potent than what your needy imagination provided. Perhaps more than you were really able to handle.

Steve’s gaze slid over you from head to toe, so slow and intense it felt as if he touched you with his fingers.

Your nipples instantly pebbled.

"If we weren't fine with you dripping down your thighs as you watch us, we wouldn't ask you to join us in the shower."

Fuck.

If he kept talking like that, in that lower, deeper tone, you really would be dripping down your thighs for them in no time.

It was Bucky who moved toward you, taking slow, but sure steps. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled your arm away from your chest. When your breasts were displayed fully, you heard a synchronized purr of approval.

He guided you to stand between two sprays then pushed you back slightly, until your back hit the tiled wall.

Some drops of water bounced your way, but mostly it was the warm mist settling on your skin in the little safe nook Bucky put you in.

A front row to watch the two of them just mere inches away from you.

Water cascaded down their naked bodies. Your eyes couldn’t catch up with all the trickles, though you so desperately wanted to study them all. Lavish with your tongue each contour of muscle and crevice. Trace the veins that protruded down their arms and just above hip and curving down onto…

"You like what you see, starburst?" Bucky hummed, forcing your gaze to snap up to his.

The nickname was something new. They always addressed you by your name. But you had no trouble realizing what inspired this one - they had to notice the small tattoo on your hip.

Swirls of gray in Bucky’s blue irises seemed warmer than ever before. His mouth was curved in an amused smile, making your heart flutter silly as if you were a teenage girl offered a flash of interest from the boy you had a crush on.

Bucky lathered his hands with soap and he moved them across Steve’s chest, up to his neck then down his arms; stroking those sculpted muscles.

You followed that movement nearly whimpering in despair that it wasn’t you who got to touch.

"He's magnificent, isn't he?" Bucky’s hands traveled all over Steve’s body, while his gaze remained locked on you.

"Would you like to worship his perfect body?" He asked.

At your eager nod something glinted in his eyes. Bucky’s voice resounded with a dark command, even as his face remained softly serene:

"Then drop to your knees, doll. Worshipers are on their knees before their gods."

Before you fully comprehended the undertone of degradation in the latter sentence, your knees were already hitting the tiles.

As Bucky’s fingers ran down Steve’s stomach then wrapped around the base of his dick, your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs as tingles of arousal pulled at your nipples and your clit.

"And that cock? Are you aching for that gorgeous, thick cock?" Bucky rasped, stroking Steve steadily.

Steve’s own hand was gripping the back of Bucky’s head, fingers tangled in wet, dark locks. Though his lips were parted on small, pleasant grunts, which he didn’t bother to hide, Steve’s eyes remained focused on you. Drinking in all the reactions showing on your beautiful face.

"Bet you'd love to run your tongue along that vein." Bucky moaned himself as he squeezed Steve tighter.

Your tongue seemed to dart out to lick your lips out of its own volition. Your hands moved, too. One up to cup your breast, the other diving between your thighs.

"Are you thinking about it, starburst?” Steve asked, nudging Bucky’s hand away and taking a step towards you. Water washed out all the remaining suds off his body, giving you an unobscured view of the glory that was his cock.

“Imagining how you'd cry as it stretched your little pussy?"

Your little pussy clenched in fear and arousal at the thought of being filled with it. Even your bolder toys couldn’t compare in size.

"And what about Bucky's cock, hm?” Steve’s hand splayed on Bucky’s hip when his partner came closer.

With his other hand he cupped Bucky’s balls, drawing a loud grunt of pleasure from him. Then he ran his fingertips along the underside of Bucky’s cock, before fisting it.

“Big and long.” Steve gave a few leisurely strokes. “Do you know how deep in your tight ass he could go?"

You weren’t thinking of it - of anyone in your ass - up until now.

“Oh Stevie,” Bucky chuckled against Steve’s shoulder, where he was peppering kisses and licks, “I think our little starburst has been thinking about my cock up your ass all this time and missed the opportunity to imagine how it could fill her dirty hole.”

Fingers still wrapped around Bucky’s girth, Steve angled his head to the side. His nose brushed against Bucky’s almost affectionately and then their lips were meeting in a sensual kiss.

Forced to decide between watching their kiss and Bucky’s dick twitching in Steve’s hand, you let out a pathetic whimper. Your own fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit. Tongue itched to lick up the red tip of Bucky’s cock.

“I don’t blame her,” Steve rasped when they parted, “I love having you in my ass, too. Almost as much as I love taking yours.”

Bucky’s soft laughter didn’t diminish the hotness of the scene. Quite the contrary, the intimacy of it that you were graciously allowed into was making you even more needy.

Maybe the sinful beauty of their bodies was only a veneer of what you were truly craving. Maybe it's their deep connection and devotion that you got off on, dreaming of experiencing it yourself. Of being loved so strongly.

“Bet she’s thinking about it now.” Their gazes returned to you. “Look at those small fingers trying to satisfy her.”

“Cute,” Steve snorted, but then his eyes narrowed. “Who told you that you could touch yourself, starburst?”

“I-” you stuttered, feeling a wave of shame burn your cheeks from the inside.

“Hands off.” He commanded and somehow you complied immediately. “You need them free to take care of us, little worshiper.”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at them. When this whole event began, you were convinced it would just be a twisted little fantasy combined - you watching them, them enjoying being watched.

A hush little encounter with minimum interaction.

Not only they broke down all the private space limits, but pushed it into entanglement you rarely even dared to fantasize about.

They moved even closer; their cocks inches from your face as they looked down at you like the gods you made them to be.

"Be of service, starburst." Bucky ran a single digit along your cheek.

"Come on. We know you get off on not only imagining the two of us together, but also being with us. This is your chance to earn it."

You gulped as his finger touched your bottom lip then slipped into your mouth. For a short second, but it was enough of an indication how far they wanted to push it.

“Show us how much you want it.” Steve rocked his hips forward, teasing the tip of his dick along your cheek. “How thankful you are to be here.”

Hesitation in your movement wasn’t due to discomfort of touching them, but because you didn’t have much experience in the matter. Sure, you gave some quick handjobs and sucked dick before, but it all seemed awkward and poor quality to what Steve and Bucky deserved.

Perhaps they sensed your nervousness, or maybe they really liked your touch, but the moment you wrapped your small hands around their cocks the praise fell from their lips almost instantly.

“Doing good, starburst.” Bucky stroked your head. “Just follow what you always imagined.”

At first you tried to keep the same rhythm on both shafts, but you weren’t that well coordinated. It didn’t matter though, as you quickly noticed each of them liked things a little different anyway.

Bucky moaned at the measured stroke with more squeeze around the leaking tip, while Steve encouraged you to twist your wrist.

As their sounds of pleasure grew muffled, you flicked up your gaze. The sight of them kissing and touching each other elicited another jolt of arousal; your own lips parting on a quiet moan.

The puff of your breath tickled the angry red head of Steve’s dick, which twitched in your hand in response. It was all the temptation you needed to open your mouth and taste him.

Your scientific knowledge wasn’t impressive, but you wondered if it was possible that the serum enhanced that part, because you swore the flavor of Steve on your tongue made you wetter.

Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked harder. You couldn’t get him much deeper, your gag reflex was too strong to try pushing it at the moment, but you were adamant on making it as satisfying for them as you could.

After a few beats you switched, swallowing Bucky's cock while you quickened the pace of your strokes on Steve’s dick. Every few moments you glanced up at them, feeding your own pleasure with the sight of them touching each other.

"Such a good pet." Steve’s praise spurred you on.

Bucky groaned out your real name when you squeezed his balls while suckling on his tip. One of his hands landed on the back of your head, pushing you further down his length. He relented when you choked, but you suspected if encounters like that were to happen in the future, he would at some point deep throat you.

“Do you want your reward, starburst?” Bucky pulled out, wrapping his own hand around his cock.

Steve guided your fingers to massage his balls as he too fisted his cock.

You didn’t expect arousal could spike even higher when you were already so drunk on it. But the idea of them cumming in front of you, for you, was like an electric current that sizzled your brain into mush.

“Yes, please,” you nodded eagerly, licking your lips.

“You can close your eyes, but keep your mouth open and your tongue out.” Steve instructed, his voice strained as he tried to withhold his climax a few more seconds.

“Fuck,” you heard Bucky curse as you closed your eyes and tilted your face up, obediently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. “So fucking beautiful, little worshiper.”

Slick sound of quick strokes combined with the rainy hum of cascading water and the unrestricted moans of two men. Even your own heartbeat seemed to quiet so that you could enjoy the sexy sounds.

Then warm splashes hit your face. Landed on your tongue, but also across your cheeks and forehead, some dribbled down your chin.

You waited with your open mouth until they were fully spent, which took more time than expected, before swallowing everything that landed on your tongue.

“Good girl, starburst.” They swiped ribbons of cum off your face with their fingers, pushing them into your mouth for you to swallow all of it.

Then one of them easily lifted you up onto your feet and pulled you under a warm spray of water. Though your legs were shaking a bit, two bodies sandwiching you between them provided support.

“Let's get you cleaned." Bucky’s voice was a soft coo in your ear as he massaged shampoo onto your scalp.

Steve lathered your body with soap, stroking everywhere and yet not where you needed it the most. Though satisfied with making them cum, your body was still thrumming with need. One you were impatient to take care of.

"Please!” You arched against Bucky, pushing your chest towards Steve’s wandering hands. You parted your legs wider. “Please, please, I-"

"No." Bucky’s tone remained calm, but his words were firm. "You don't get to cum. Not yet."

“Little worshipers think of their gods’ needs and wishes first.” Despite the degrading and condescending meaning of his words, Bucky made them sound like a soft, caring compliment.

“And accept their fate, even if it’s to wait for their orgasm for eternity.”

"You've been such a good girl so far, starburst.” Steve squeezed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze to meet his through the falling drops. “I know you can still be obedient and wait for the special reward. Right?"

“Y-yes, Steve.” Your heart pounded at the prospect of getting more from them.

Even if at the moment it was more torment than pleasure.

" ’Atta girl." He smiled. "Now let’s rinse you. Then you can go dry up and dress nicely. We’ll take you out for dinner.”

#stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #stucky x you #stucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky imagine #stucky smut #drip #little worshiper universe #I think I'd bee adding more into this universe in the future so I wanted to name it something #my writing #bucky barnes x female reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers

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babyjakes · 4 months

Text

you all over me.

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

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | double penetration

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

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

word count | 1,386

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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angelbaby-fics · 8 days

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Daddy stucky x little reader where she loves taking naps especially With her daddies so can you do something where the little one is in a very very young headspace like a few months or a year and they are at the avenger tower but she sleeps most of the time and just wanna near to her daddies

Naptime With Daddies

Word Count: 450

A/N: ohhh this is on of my favorite concepts ever!! i love thinking about this!!!! especially when i'm stuck in public somewhere & i just wanna go to sleep, i just daydream about daddies 💕

Some babies had blankies, others had stuffed animals, a sentimental item that went with them everywhere. You were a bit different though - instead of cloth comforts, your favorite things to snuggle with were your daddies, Bucky and Steve. Any time you had to sleep, you’d prefer it to be in their arms, and if you were in their arms, chances are you’d fall asleep sooner rather than later. You just couldn’t help it, the serenity of knowing how safe you were in their trustworthy embrace, nothing could ever hurt you there. And they didn’t mind it one bit.

With their exceptional strength, either one of them could hold you for hours at a time without getting tired. When he took you grocery shopping, Steve would push the cart with one hand and hold you in the other. If you stayed awake, he’d point to the things he needed, and you’d grab them and toss them in the cart. By the end of the shopping trip, though, you’d usually nodded off, face smooshed into Steve’s shoulder as he checked out.

Bucky’s chest was more preferable to you than any mattress. The two of you could more often than not be found on the big sofa in the living room, you asleep on him while he read a book or watched a movie, your presence soothing him. If you were still napping in Bucky’s arms by the time he needed to go to a therapy appointment, he’d bundle you up in a blanket and just bring you along. He’d even bought you a cute pair of noise canceling headphones, so you wouldn’t have to hear anything that wasn’t safe for little ears.

All the other Avengers were used to seeing you sleeping through meetings. Sometimes it took all their super strength not to get distracted by how peaceful you looked in Steve’s arms as he tried to get them to pay attention to the mission. Tony would often crack jokes to hide his jealousy; Peter was far too rambunctious to sit through a whole meeting, let alone nap through one. Sometimes you even slept so soundly, you’d make it in and out of the meeting and back home without even waking up.

Your favorite by far, were the days when neither of them had to work, or shop or do anything at all. These days were somewhat hard to come by, since your daddies were so important and responsible, but every so often the schedules would perfectly align. The only time you’d get up from the bed would be to cuddle on the couch for a while just to get a change of scenery. These were the best naps of all.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #agere fic #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #steve x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #marvel agere #chloe's fic

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romanestuffsposts · 8 days

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can you please do a daddy!bucky playtime where the little!reader is jumping on his bed and he tickles them and the little!reader starts to get sleepy so he feeds them a bottle/changes their diaper and has a nap with them???

Hi there love! 💜

Of course I can that’s so lovely!! 🩷

I’m so sorry it took times to be out but I hope you like how I write your beautiful request ☀️

Lot’s of loveeee 🎀💕

*****

Warnings : tickles, laughters, giggles, pet names, playful, tease, bottle, paci, cuddles, kisses, happy morning

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader

Summary : A playful but sleepy morning with Daddy

*****

It’s rare that you’re up before your Daddies. You always sleep until one of them come to wake you up. But apparently, today is different.

It’s been two days now that your Papa is on a mission in Poland so it’s just you and your Daddy for the whole week end- well now for one more day.

Your Daddy probably didn’t closed the curtain all the way down like you usually do so the morning sun woke you up because of that.

No matter how hard you tried to fall back asleep you couldn’t because of the sun, so now you’re walking toward your Daddy’s room. You hate being up when everyone else is asleep.

You quietly open his bedroom door and walk toward his bed as discreetly as you can- which means not discreetly at all. Your Daddy heard you coming when you were still in the hallway, he patiently wait with a small smile on his lips as he hears your little footsteps on the floor.

He feels you claiming in the bed and seconds later you’re jumping on his bed with all the strength you have. Your jumping right beside him with loud laughters as you keep screaming that it’s time to wake up because the sun is there.

Your Daddy fakes a groan ‘’baby it’s not because the sun is there that it’s the time to wake up’’ he fakes whine to play along.

You giggle louder ‘’of couse it is’’ You keep jumping while your Daddy had his back toward you. In one seconds, he turns around, grabs your ankle and make you fall.

He hold your legs in his arm and suddenly runs his fingers up your legs toward your belly ‘’you wanna laugh ? I’ll give you something to laugh about’’ He attacks your ticklish belly with all he can. Your laughters got louder again and you try to squirm away from him but can’t because of him.

‘’What baby ?’’ He chuckles ‘’what’s wrong ? I thought we were having fun here’’ he smirks at your reactions.

He moves toward your sides and change between your sides and ribs ‘’where are your ticklish spot ?’’ He wonders ‘’huh ?’’ He tilts his head

Your try to move his hands away and he takes that opportunity to attacks your underarms that were exposed for a second ‘’you don’t wanna help me finding out ?’’ He questions ‘’alright, i’m a big guy, I can find by myself’’

‘’You were laughing pretty hardly when I was on your little belly here’’ he says while wiggling the tip of his fingers on your belly. He hummed while looking at you ‘’where didn’t I try ?’’

‘’Oh! Here’’ he squeezes your thigh, taking you by surprise, causing you to yell. He chuckles at your reaction ‘’waaa look at that! That was pretty deep’’

He go down on your knee, he doesn’t have the same reaction but is still happy of what he got. Even if you’re less ticklish at some spots you’re still are in general.

He lightly wiggles his fingers down your legs until he reaches you little feet that are trapped by him. ‘’Oh! Found another one ?’’

You try to kick your foot away as he spiders your sole and toes like never. ‘’I’m happy with what I found out. I often forgot how ticklish you are until Papa and I tickle you again’’ he chuckles ‘’it’s so much fun, really. Love it’’ he winks ‘’and love you of course’’ he says stopping his attacks to kiss your little nose.

You take deep breath making him chuckle ‘’you wanted to wake me up, you paid for it’’

‘’A little sleepy now, aren’t we ?’’ He notices your eyes and guess by himself. You never wake up that early so you didn’t had all your hours of sleep, it was just minutes before you start to get sleepy. Your Daddy just accelerated the process.

He grabs the bottle of milk he has in his nightstand- in case you ever need one at night, and once it’s warm enough, he gave it to you. He lies back down and you rest against his arm, by his side while you drink calmly. Your Daddy stroke your belly while he waits.

He ended up holding the bottle for you because it start to get heavy with the sleepiness that takes over. Once it’s empty, he drops it beside the bed and roll the cover above you. When he looks down at you he sees your eyes close and sleepy breath leaving your sweet lips.

He smiles and kisses your forehead before sliding your paci in your mouth ‘’sweet dreams, my beautiful girl’’

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buckys-little-belle · 2 years

Text

Mafia Au (Part One)

Origin Story

Stucky x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Mafia Au Guidebook - Here (I recommend reading this first)

Warnings - Very vague mentions of mafia dealings, someone is told “you should stop talking if you hope to keep your life” and that’s as violent as it will get, reader is technically Brock Rumlows sibling, I totally recognize we don’t all looks like him, talk like him, or are anything like him, please know there is no dictations as of “biological, half, step, or adopted” sibling, and you can easily view yourself as any type of sibling! This part of the story takes place during dinner, people eat food, food is mentioned, reader has a tough home life with Brock, but it’s not at all described in detail, talks of loneliness and feeling left out. (3100 ish words)

Notes - I hate how this came out, but at this point I have rewritten it way to many times to stat again, so I just hope it’s good enough <3

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and with this blog, SFW.

The dining room, to Y/n, felt too big, too extravagant, and elegant to be located in someone’s house. The room was large, the walls white with elegant moulding, the floors covered in black hardwood. In the middle of the room stood a large rectangular table, the black wood seemingly matching the floors, the chairs covered in a contrasting white fabric and each spot at the table had a white plate, gold cutlery, and a beautiful blue and gold placemat.

The owners of the house, the Odinsons, made sure to fill the room, their home, with odes to their heritage, paintings, statues, pottery, and the placemats, all artifacts from, and things based on, Asgardian culture. The small details helped make the room feel welcoming, the bare bones were modern and cold, but the details showed that the room had character.

The house that Y/n was standing in was much different to their own. The large mansion an extreme opposite to their small apartment in the Bronx, Y/n’s apartment could easily fit into the singular dining room at least one time, maybe even two. A rundown studio apartment had no upper hand on a grand home like this one, sure each had historical aspects, but the Odinsons had marble tiles, stairways, and wallpaper from eras past, all having been taken care of and in great shape. Y/n had a bathtub from the early 1900s that was falling apart, and old carpet flooring from the 70s.

The mansion could be compared to her brothers, Brock had a large, more modern, mansion just a few blocks away, the landscape just as beautiful, and the art just as expensive. Y/n knew what luxury was, they just were forbidden to live in it.

Brock kept Y/n at an arm's length, close enough to be shown off at parties, helping him show a united family front, but far enough that no one would know his secret. Brock had prided himself on his ability to run a Mafia Family of just Caregivers, not a Little in sight. He wanted to assert dominance by following past tradition, keeping Littles off to the side, out of the business aspects of this job.

But he needed to keep his sibling close, family meant everything to the other Mafia families, he couldn’t cast his sibling away without valid reasoning, his only reason being they didn’t fit his end goal, which would never been seen as reasonable. So he kept their label a secret, keeping them silent at dinners, meetings, any outing with him, making sure they lived somewhere else so no one would catch them regressing.

So Y/n was stuck in their small apartment, left alone to long for the large dining rooms, bathrooms that didn’t have leaky windows, and a ‘family’ that accepted them for who they really were. For the first few years, when Brock was still the right hand man of the Hydra Family over in California, Y/n thought that this was how all little’s were treated, only to be faced with the harsh reality that life could be so much better.

Here in New York littles were allowed in the Families ranks, they were allowed to be a part of big decisions, they were truly accepted by those around them. This group made sure littles got different meals, chicken nuggets, pasta, and more, if they wanted it, they still got to sit at the Caregiver table when little, they could thrive.

Part of Y/n wished to go back, go back to the days where they never knew that life could be better, the days where they were content with being paraded around others silently, being thrown away when they weren’t needed. Go back to the days that they didn’t long for more, but for now they would be stuck here, sat in the beautiful dining room, filled with sorrow, pushing around the weird food on their plate, longing for some pasta.

“Eat your food.” Brock seethed from beside them, a smile on his face as vile words were spat out quietly.

“What ‘s it?” Y/n whispered, the small circles a confusing dish.

“It’s Escargot.” Brock answered, taking a large sip of his drink, most likely an alcoholic one, one that would make him more irritable throughout the night. “Just eat it.”

Y/n swallowed hard, their eyes fixed on the plate, their stomach sinking at the idea of eating baby snail eggs. “I don’t think ‘m hungry.” They whispered to their brother, a pleading look on their face, silently begging for some mercy.

Brock sighed, standing up and fixing his jacket as he harshly whispered. “I’m going to the bathroom, if you don’t eat at least half of your food you’ll loose Tv privileges for a month.” His threat wasn’t empty, it was one he had acted on many times, one he dished out unfairly.

Y/n looked at the plate debating if it was worth it, the new Octonauts episodes were due to come out next week, something they didn’t want to lose, but at the same time they didn’t know if they would be able to swallow the food regardless of the impending punishment’s intensity.

Before they could scoop up a spoonful, someone interpreted them. “Y/n?” A man’s voice asked, Y/n looking up, their gaze now focused on a tall brunette, his hair pulled back in a low bun, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I’m Bucky.” He said, sitting where Brock was just seated. “Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Y/n’s eyes were wide, confused as to why someone was paying attention to them. “Um.” Y/n’s eyes drifting to the entryway of the dining room, when there was no evidence that Brock was entering they answered shyly. “Sure.”

Bucky pulled out a small pad of paper from his suit jacket, words scribbled across the paper. “Do you live with your brother?” He asked, his eyes flipping from the paper to Y/n.

“No.” They answered quickly, a quick rush of fear flooding through them when they realized they answered wrong. “I, I mean yes, we live in a mansion.” Their answer was slightly choppy, too focused on making sure the words were clear and not mumbled to be focused on the flow of the sentence.

“Okay.” Bucky doubted, shaking his head slightly. “Can you tell me what colour the mansion is?” He prodded.

“Oh.” Y/n paused, trying to remember what colour Brock had talked about painting the house, but was that inside? Their mind running in circles as they tried to remember as best they could. “ ‘s it black?” They questioned, hoping they got the right answer, as if they were being tested and graded.

“You were close.” Bucky chuckled, sighing as he read the next question. “If you could have anything, anything in the world, what would you want?”

‘A canopy bed.’ They said in their head, the bed being something they’ve wanted for years. “World peace.”

“You don’t have to lie.” Bucky pressed, his eyes genuine.

“I can’t say.” Y/n said, a frown on their face, tears threatening to spill.

“Can’t? Or not allowed to?” Bucky asked.

Y/n just sat still, their hand reaching for their once discarded spoon, pushing around the food on their plate. Bucky sighed, placing the pad of paper back into his pocket and standing up, Y/n’s eyes filling with tears, disappointed in themself for making someone mad. What they didn’t know was it had nothing to do with them.

- - - - - -

Brock walked into the room, Y/n quickly wiping the tears from their face, trying to compose themself as best as they could. As Brock approached his seat they waited for his snarky comment on how much food was still on their plate, the joy he would have taking the Tv out of their apartment when they got there. “Brock Rumlow.” A voice laughed, one from the end, the head, of the table, one Y/n hadn’t heard before.

“Is something wrong Mr.Odin?” Brock asked, his voice suddenly cherie, his hands clasping together behind his back.

“We’re about to find out.” A snarky voice called out, the voice belonging to one of the Odinsons Y/n knew to be Loki, the man looking terrifying and yet terrified himself.

“Brock, what colour is your house?” Odin called out, a slight mocking tone on the edge of his voice.

“It’s light grey Sir.” Brock answered quickly.

“Yes it is.” Odin faked contemplation. “So why does your sibling think it’s black?” He questioned.

Brock chuckled lowly. “Y/n struggles with colours Sir. Can’t really trust anything they say.” He laughed, looking around the room, hoping for similar reactions, only to be met with unsatisfied stares.

“I find that hard to believe.” Odin boomed, standing up from his seat, causing the room to grow stiff. “Though, I would understand why they don’t know, seeing as you seem to store them across town.” He remarked.

“Y/n lives with me Sir, I don’t know what intel you're going off, but it’s wrong. They have a bedroom right next to mine.” Brock argued back, his attitude growing restless.

“So what is the ‘$1400’ payment to a ‘Mr.Jones each month?” The man questioned. “He owns a rundown apartment building does he not?” Odin added.

“Well, that’s.” Brock began. “Some of my men stay there.” He confidently said.

“Hm, see I might have been able to believe that if I didn’t have pictures of Y/n leaving and entering the building almost everyday.”

Y/n shrunk into their seat, not ready for the wrath that Brock would undoubtedly lash onto them, one of his rules being ‘Don’t leave the apartment under any circumstances.’. “Oh you little -“ Brock shouted, his furious gaze cast on Y/n.

“I suggest you don’t finish that sentence if you want to leave here with your life.” Odin said, two large bodyguards immediately grabbing Brock by each arm, dragging him to stand at the other head of the table, now on display for everyone to clearly see. “Y/n stops at a toy store everyday, standing outside and looking at what they have on display. I don’t think that can be easily explained, hm?” Odin added, Brock just looking back with wildly angry eyes. “And then they go to a Cafe, take out a stuffed animal, and drink a cup of hot chocolate.” Odin continued, Brock growing more restless the more the leader talked. “We have come to the conclusion to have you removed, you left a little to their own devices, lied about it, many, many times, and you treated them as if they mean nothing to you, your own sibling.” Odin scoffed, pure disappointment dripping from his words.

“I treat them the way they should be treated.” Brock seethed. “They are mine, I can do with them as I please.”

“Actually you can’t.” Loki interjected, Brock immediately taken aback in confusion. “You signed a contract, I have it here actually.” He beamed, standing up from his seat and walking to the other end of the table. “I, Brock Rumlow.” Loki mimicked the man's voice. “Declare that I will treat any little in my care with respect and human decency, I will provide them with a safe and stimulating environment, I will make sure their needs are taken care of, blah blah blah, it just goes on to list more things you didn’t do.” He noted.

“Brock your territory will be given to the Romanov Family, Y/n will be placed in the care of someone who will provide it, and you will be banned from New York.” Odin listed. “Oh and if you are to step into New York again, you will be dealt with accordingly.” He added, finally sitting back down in his seat.

“That’s unfair! You can’t do this to me! Y/n is mine! I will come back, I will!” Brock’s shouts could be heard as he was pulled from the room and dragged through the hallways, chuckles and murmured conversations heard through the dining room.

“Y/n?” Odin asked, his voice much softer now, the room coming to a silence when they heard him speak. “We have paired you with Steve and Bucky, the leaders of the Barnes-Rogers family.” He began. “They have agreed to take you in, and are eager to get to know you. Steve is actually the reason you are finally free from your brother's grasp, he started the investigation.” Odin proudly beamed, his favourite family once again proving why they are his favourite.

Y/n just sat still, unsure of what to do, sad that they may never see their apartment again, a few stuffed animals that they would love to have, but excited for what this newfound freedom may lead to. They nodded their head in agreement. “With that done, let’s get back to dinner!” Odin cheered, the room laughing and smiling in response.

Y/n’s eyes searched the room, looking for the only familiar person, Bucky, their gaze finally landing on the Barnes-Rogers Family, a few of them sitting at the end of the table, where Brock once stood on display. Two boys were already looking at Y/n, waving their hands in a ‘come over’ gesture, Y/n slowly standing up and walking over.

“Hi! I’m Peter, and this is my best friend Ned, he’s our guy in the chair. I’m ‘the spider’, you need information? I can get it, you need someone sneaky! That’s me!” Peter ranted, pointing to the boy next to him, as well as making dramatic gestures with his hands.

“I see you’ve met Peter.” An unfamiliar voice laughed, Y/n turning to see a man with blonde hair smiling, his height similar to Bucky’s and his demeanour just a serious. “Here.” He said, pulling out a chair, that sat across from Peter, for Y/n to sit in. “I’m Steve, Bucky is just getting you some food he’ll be right back.” Steve smiled, answering Y/n’s unsaid questions, them nodding their head in approval.

“So what do you do? Are you sneaky too? Or really smart? What can you bring to the team? We could be sidekicks!” Peter started.

“The Spider, The Egg and The Guy in the Chair.” Ned added, him and Peter breaking out in laughter right after. “The name could use some work.” The two of them entering their own conversation.

“Hi Dove.” Bucky called out, sitting in between Steve and Y/n, placing a plate down in front of them. “I got you a bit of everything, this way we can know which one you want for next time.” He smiled, looking to Steve with excitement. Y/n just nodding at his words.

“Manners Dove.” Steve said, some food on his fork as he looked to Y/n.

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears, nodding their head, trying to get any words out of their mouth, but failing to do so. “What’s wrong?” Bucky immediately asked, his hand settling on Y/n’s back to comfort them as best he could.

“I.” They stuttered. “I din’, I din’ know I could talk.” They cried, confused as to why they were mad that Y/n wasn’t talking, something they were told not to do, something they weren’t allowed to do. “I, please don’ be mad, ‘m so sorry.” Tears continued to flow down their cheeks.

Steve stood up angrily, throwing his napkin to the table and storming out of the room. “Steve.” Bucky called after him, his hand now rubbing circles into Y/n’s back.

“ ‘m sorry, ‘m thankful, ‘m so thankful, I love the pasta I do.” Y/n cried, trying to show how grateful they were, and how sorry they were for not using their manners.

“We know Dove.” Bucky soothed. “He isn’t mad at you, he’s just mad because it took so long for Odin to do anything about your situation.” He explained. “He just needs some fresh air.”

Y/n nodded, their hands wiping away their tears as best they could, a few new ones falling as they turned back towards their plate, picking up their fork to begin eating. “Boy’s, I think we are going to go, Ned, can you make sure Odin gets the right files please?” Bucky asked, both boys nodding in agreement immediately. “Peter, could you go grab me a container from the kitchen for this food?” Peter didn’t even answer, just springing into action.

“Did you bring anything with you that we should grab?” Bucky asked Y/n, being met with a head shake ‘no’.

Bucky put Y/n’s food into the container, standing up and saying a few goodbyes before walking back to Y/n. “Ready to go Little Dove?” He asked, his hand held out as an invitation.

“Mhm.” Y/n murmured, standing up and waving to the boys, holding onto Bucky’s hand as he led them out of the room and down and out the front entrance.

“Steve?” Bucky called, not able to see where he was standing.

“Yah.” He called back, walking out from behind a wall. “Sorry I just needed-”

“I know.” Bucky sighed, Y/n still holding his hand as the three of them waited for their car.

“ ‘m sorry Steve.” Y/n blurted out. “I shoulda said thank you.” They mumbled, squeezing Bucky’s hand slightly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Dove.” Steve responded. “I’m sorry for walking out like that.” He said, crouching down to his knees and grabbing Y/n’s other hand.

“ ‘s okay.” Y/n weakly smiled, trying to be as genuine as possible, their smile not meeting their eyes, Steve standing up, still holding onto Y/n’s hand.

The three of them stood together, waiting for the car, ready to go ‘home’, wherever that was. “A canopy bed.” Y/n said.

“A what?” Steve chuckled.

“Bucky as’d me what I would wish for, I wish for a canopy bed.” Y/n said matter of factly. Bucky and Steve both began laughing. “ ‘s that a bad answer?” Y/n asked, only to be met with soft coos.

“No, no Dove, it’s a perfect wish.” Bucky answered. “It’s just funny because we bought you a canopy bed already.” He laughed.

“It even has curtains.” Steve added enthusiastically.

“Oh.” Y/n breathed, even more excited to go ‘home’. Though they would miss their stuffed animals, a canopy bed seemed like a fair trade, they tried to reason. “ ‘m gonna miss my stuffies.” They blurted, the thought too much to keep in.

“Our friend Sam stopped by your apartment during dinner, all your stuffies are sitting on your bed, safe and sound, as we speak Dove.” Steve stated, squeezing Y/n’s hand slightly to reassure them.

Maybe everything was going to be okay, only time could tell.

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