caution; may include dark and sexual themes that is not suitable for minors, please don't interact! reminder, you are responsible for your own media consumption.
otherwise, let us proceed with a mantra of sorts; if the man does not exist, so does my morals.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Avengers
coming soon
Steve Grant Rogers
•❥ SERIES
HIDDEN
Summary: Despite the fanfare and the cult-like following of Steve Rogers; America's golden child, the war time hero and do-no-evil american dream, it was still a startling discovery when it was revealed to the world that he was happily married. And he almost flipped New York upside down just to find you.
○ Pairing: Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2
•❥ ONESHOTS
I got you, sweet girl.
Summary: A tough week has you struggling to rein in your emotions, so when someone flirts with your daddy, you don't take it particularly well.
•❥ HEADCANONS
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission
James Buchanan Barnes
•❥ SERIES
•❥ ONESHOTS
Meeting The Soldat
Summary: The soldat makes a sudden appearance and he is on a mission. Or when you suddenly find yourself acquainted with the Winter Soldier.
Scenting
Summary: The stereotypes of the alpha and omega dynamics were blurred, when it comes to you and bucky.
•❥ HEADCANONS
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission
Maximoff
•❥ HEADCANONS
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱When you miss your daddy/mommy while they're on a mission
Steve and Bucky
•❥ SERIES
Pretty
Summary; You were anything but expectant after spending a night between the ellusive lawyers, James Buchanan Barnes and Steve Grant Rogers; it was a supposed fling. Something to spice up their marriage. So you weren't exactly prepared with their advances nor the possessiveness that came with their attention.
○ Pairing; Soft!Dark Stucky x Reader, Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader.
ABO Universe
•❥ SERIES
Enchanted
Summary: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.
○ Pairing; Steve Roges x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Steve Rogers x Reader, Soft!Dark Clark Kent x Reader.
Summary: Despite the fanfare and the cult-like following of Steve Rogers; America's golden child, the war time hero and do-no-evil american dream, it was still a startling discovery when it was revealed to the world that he was happily married. And he almost flipped New York upside down just to find you.
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Slight angst, Soft!Dark themes, Sexual Themes, postpartum depression, miscarriage.
Chapter Three
The quiet hum of the car was the only sound between them. The city lights flashed through the windows, streaking across Steve's tense features. She was curled into his side, her head resting against his shoulder as his hand cradled the back of her head, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles into her hair.
"You tired, sweetheart?" his voice was soft, almost breaking.
She shook her head faintly, nuzzling further into him. "No. I just... like being close."
He swallowed thickly. "Me too."
The rest of the drive was silent. But it wasn't heavy. She sighed, relaxed against him, but somewhere deep in her chest, something tugged. An odd sense that she was supposed to remember something. But every time it tried to surface, she instinctively pushed it back. She didn’t want to upset him. She didn’t want to upset herself.
When they arrived, Steve gently shifted to get out of the car first, never once letting go of her hand. He opened her door and carefully lifted her into his arms again, bridal style.
"I can walk, honey," she whispered, smiling up at him.
"I know," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "But let me spoil you tonight."
She giggled lightly, laying her head back against his chest. "You're always spoiling me."
"Never enough," he whispered.
Inside, the house was dimly lit, calm. As if it had been holding its breath, waiting for her return. Steve carried her straight to the bedroom, sitting her down gently on the bed.
"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”
"Okay."
He vanished into the bathroom briefly, and she heard the water running. When he returned, his gaze softened even more upon seeing her sitting obediently, waiting for him. Her bare feet dangled slightly off the edge of the bed, red and sore from walking.
Steve knelt before her, ever so carefully taking her left foot in his hand.
"Does it hurt much?" he asked softly, not meeting her eyes.
"Only a little," she smiled, watching him work. His brows furrowed as he dabbed the cuts gently with warm cloths, applying ointment, and finally wrapping soft bandages around both feet.
"There," he exhaled, more to himself than to her. "All better."
"Thank you, Stevie."
His eyes fluttered shut briefly at the sound of his name, her voice so sweet, so familiar. Like nothing had changed.
"You want to take a bath, my love?" he asked next, carefully brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Mhm," she nodded. "But only if you stay."
His throat bobbed. "Of course I’ll stay."
He helped her into the warm bath, kneeling beside the tub while she soaked in the water, his hand never leaving hers even as he reached for a soft sponge, gently brushing it over her shoulders and arms.
"How do you feel?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now.
"Better," she whispered, eyes fluttering shut under his touch. "Safe."
He smiled, but there was something fragile in his expression. His hand trembled slightly as he stroked her damp hair.
"You know you're my whole world, right?" he whispered. "There’s nothing, nothing I wouldn't do for you."
She opened her eyes, lifting her wet fingers to trace his jaw. "I know, Stevie. I feel it."
His breath hitched. "Good. That's good."
There was a brief pause, a heavy silence, but then she spoke again, her voice curious but distant.
"It's strange though."
"What is, darling?"
"I feel like I was asleep for a long time," she said softly. "Like I missed something important."
Steve's smile never faltered, but his eyes dimmed just slightly. "You’re home now," he whispered. "That’s all that matters."
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Home."
"Come on, sweetheart," he whispered, standing up and reaching for a fluffy towel. "Let’s get you warm and cozy."
He lifted her out of the bath as if she weighed nothing, wrapping the towel snugly around her shoulders. He carried her back to the bed, helping her into one of his soft shirts, dressing her gently like she was made of porcelain.
Once she was settled under the blankets, he crawled in beside her, pulling her close. Her head tucked under his chin, one of her hands fisting the fabric of his shirt.
"I missed you," she whispered into his chest.
"I missed you more, sweet girl," he replied, his voice breaking for just a moment.
Her breathing slowed as she relaxed fully into his warmth, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Promise you won't leave me?"
He kissed the top of her head reverently. "Never, my love. I would tear the world apart before I let anyone take you from me again."
She smiled softly, her eyelids fluttering shut. "I love you, Stevie."
"I love you too. Always." His voice was a tremor, but he held her tighter, like he was anchoring himself to the only thing keeping him sane.
As her breathing evened out into sleep, Steve stayed wide awake, staring into the darkness, his arms locked tightly around her. His heart pounded with desperation, but his touch remained gentle. All-consuming love, quiet and barely-contained fear swirled inside him.
But for now, she was home. And she was his.
---
The next afternoon, the Tower was buzzing long before Steve even stepped foot inside.
“Alright, everybody calm down,” Tony was saying, pacing the common room like he was about to deliver a press conference. “Don’t spook him. Play it cool.”
“Why are you talking like this is an interrogation?” Sam deadpanned.
“Because it is,” Clint replied, arms crossed. “We’ve been living with the man for years. Years. And somehow we missed the part where he got married.”
“I, hypocrite much?” Tony scoffs, to which Clint mutters sonething about fair play grinning.
“I still don’t believe it,” Wanda whispered, looking around. “How is that even possible?”
“You think he’s going to bring her here?” Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow. “He never even brought her up.”
“I mean-” Sam spread his hands, looking at everyone in the room— a diverse group of company, to put it lightly. “maybe that’s why we never got invited to any barbecues.”
Thor, who had been quietly sipping a very large mug of coffee, suddenly hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps it was a secret Asgardian ceremony. That would explain much.”
“Not helping.” Tony pointed a finger at him.
Just as the room reached peak speculation, the elevator chimed. Heads whipped toward the sound.
Steve stepped out, calm as ever, dressed in his civilian clothes — though noticeably softer around the edges than usual. His eyes were tired but peaceful, his jaw a little less tight than yesterday. He barely made it three steps before the room erupted.
“Finally!” Tony threw his hands up. “Rogers, what the hell, man?”
“Hey, Steve,” Natasha said, voice deceptively calm, “care to explain why we had to learn about your marriage from- what? A missing person’s search?”
Steve blinked, lips pressing together in that familiar patient way. “Good afternoon.”
“Oh, don’t you ‘good afternoon’ us!” Clint groaned. “When were you planning to tell us you were married?”
Sam whistled. “Was this, like, a Vegas thing? A secret wartime romance? Witness protection?”
Steve simply shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of the nearest chair. “It’s… private.”
Tony gasped theatrically. “Private? Are you serious? Steve, we literally lived together. You moved in here with us.”
“You had a whole other house?” Clint asked, wide-eyed. “With a wife? How did we never see her? Where did you even live?” And yes, the irony was not lost to him.. but still!
Steve smiled, faintly amused. “Not too far.”
“Not too far,” Tony echoed, as though personally offended. “Rogers. Buddy. Pal. My patriot. Do you know how many times I tried to set you up with someone?”
Natasha chimed in, dryly. “I thought you were just being polite when you turned them all down.”
“No,” Steve answered simply. “I was already married.”
A beat of stunned silence followed.
“How long?” Wanda finally asked softly.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “A while.”
“Define ‘a while’,” Sam prompted, leaning forward with a grin.
“Years.”
“Years?!”
Steve’s lips twitched, almost sheepish now.
Tony threw a cushion at him. “Unbelievable.”
“Is she okay?” Wanda asked gently. “After what happened yesterday?”
Steve’s eyes softened, the faintest trace of vulnerability flashing across his face. “She’s okay. She’s resting.”
“We’re glad she’s safe, Steve,” Natasha offered sincerely. The rest nodded in agreement, the humor briefly fading into quiet support.
“Thanks,” Steve said, genuinely. “Really. Thank you all for helping.”
His eyes found Bucky, and his expression grew even softer. “Especially you, Buck.”
Bucky gave him a lopsided grin. “What are friends for?”
“She’s been asking to meet you, by the way.”
Bucky raised a brow. “Yeah?”
Steve nodded. “Said she owes you a coffee.”
“You sure she’s ready for me?” Bucky smirked. “I tend to make terrible first impressions.”
“She’ll like you,” Steve assured, a quiet certainty in his voice that no one could doubt.
“Well, tell her I’m looking forward to it,” Bucky said, voice lighter than usual.
“Oh, and—” Tony held up a finger. “does this mystery wife of yours happen to cook? Because I’m thinking we’re owed at least one dinner after being kept in the dark for years, Rogers.”
Steve chuckled, already heading toward the hallway. “We’ll see."
As he disappeared around the corner, Tony turned to the others. “He’s impossible.”
“I kind of respect it,” Clint said. “Honestly.”
“He’s definitely not who I thought he was,” Sam muttered.
“Marriage!” Thor boomed suddenly. “Ah! A fine union. Perhaps I shall bestow upon them a gift from Asgard.”
“Please don’t.” Tony grimaced. “The last time you ‘bestowed’ something, it broke half my lab.”
Wanda smiled faintly. “I think… it’s sweet.”
The group stood there for a beat, processing it all.
“Hey,” Sam finally said, “Nat, you better pay up, because Steve ain't a virgin.” Tony chortles, while Natasha smirks.
SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.
WARNINGS: A/B/O Dynamics, Sexual Themes, Polyandry, M/F/M, Angst, Mentions of violence, Alpha x Omega, Ruts and Heats, Threesomes, Oral (F and M recieving), Eventual Soft!dark themes, Manipulation, Breeding Kink, Graphic depictions of violence, Dark Themes.
PAIRINGS: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark Kent, Soft!Dark Clark x Reader, Soft!Dark Steve x Reader.
summary: driving back to the kent farm after your internship, you see your boyfriend in his tight white tee… drenched in sweat. (inspos: this p-link + this tiktok)
warnings: MATURE (18+) / pure smut w light fluff / no plot, just clark wearing a white shirt / excessive description about cocks and dicks / overstimulation / oral (m) / groping / established relationship / no penetration / mild dirty talk / reader is ovulating, clark is free-use / semi-public sex (someone walks in)
a/n: oh my lawwwd this might be my best smut piece yet !!! pls do not hesitate to comment your thoughts & reactions, it motivates me a lot when u guys enjoy my work :3
gifs from @/zanephillips !
The front door of the Kent house jingles on your arrival.
The smell of Martha Kent's town-famous pies infiltrating your nostrils as soon as you entered the door. Martha, who usually was out of the house most of the time, seemed to have some spare time because she's baking again.
And God knows how happy you are that she is.
"Sweetheart, I set you aside some pies and muffins for you and Clark to eat over the weekend," Martha says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek like a mother would. "I have to go to New York with Lionel for a charity ball… you know we need the sponsors."
You hum, taking a utensil from the drawer to eat the sliced pie on the counter. "That's great, Mrs. Kent! Though I'm not sure Clark'd appreciate you going with Lionel."
"I know," she sighs. "But it's what I gotta do. I can't run the senate seat without sponsors, we need the funding."
The moment you feel the pie melt into your mouth, you're done for. You moan loudly, jerking your fork back and forth making Martha laugh.
"Sorry—have you told Clark about it?" You lean on the counter, voice slightly stuffed as you continued eating.
Martha shakes her head, "Still trying the right time to."
She sets the topic aside, beginning to talk about things happening in the senate. Both of you occasionally laughing when she talks about something particularly ridiculous that the other senators do.
It was a sweet and lighthearted conversation you had with your boyfriend's mother; it always is. Aside from the incredible being that is Clark Kent, you're also thankful that he had such a cool mother and a wonderful father behind him. Makes you feel all the more lucky to be part of such a family.
When you finish your pie, you feel a lot more rejuvenated. Like you could take on the world. Let fate give you their biggest challenge, who cares?
"Want another slice? I have one more—"
You spot Clark come out of the tool shed through the kitchen window, the white shirt he had on was littered with black stains and possibly some oil grease. The fabric clinging onto his body like second skin, barely letting his biceps breathe as he hoisted up some tool his shoulders, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he began heading elsewhere.
Your mouth waters, mind drifting off to the image of Clark underneath you, utterly ruined and glistening with sweat. Hips stuttering, cock begging to be tended to.
Sorry Martha Kent, I just found something else I wanna eat.
"Actually, I'll eat the last piece later with Clark," you tell her, putting on a sweet, innocent smile on your face. "D'you happen to know where he is?"
Martha's mouth forms an 'o', looking behind her to glance through the window. "I think he was at the shed earlier… you should probably go check the barn. I think he's fixing up something there."
You were already by the door when she finished, waving happily. "Thanks!"
A loud mechanical sound comes from the barn, practically reverberating all throughout the farm with how loud it was. You clasp your hands behind your back, discreetly walking inside only to see the first floor empty.
Your eyebrows furrow confusedly, hands coming apart to grip the strap of your bag, looking around the area for your white-shirt wearing hunk.
"You got home early," a voice comes from above.
You immediately looked up, an amused scoff coming from you as Clark leaned down on the wooden rails, grinning at you endearingly.
"Didn't you miss me?" You ask teasingly, face beaming as you made your way to the stairs, meeting with him at the center. Arms immediately thrown upwards to pull him close. Clark chuckles, not expecting you to lunge yourself towards him. Definitely not when he's sweaty and dirty.
But that's how you like him—sweaty and dirty.
"I missed you real bad, sweets. It was—oh—hard fixing the farm without a human radio beside me," Clark grunts in the middle of his sentence, suddenly feeling your hand over his clothed member, rubbing him gently through his jeans. "You okay? I just… I just finished bringing some heavy stuff up the loft and it's…"
Clark's words trail off as you began kissing the thick column of his neck. Messily licking the sweaty skin while your hand continues massaging him, your other one resting on his shoulder.
You feel his chest heave. A low, almost silent, groan leaving his mouth the moment you bite on the spot between his neck and collarbone, same time as you pull at the hairs on the back of his neck with your free hand.
The manly smell of sweat oozing off of him has you grinding your body on his. The hand you previously had on his center, slowly moving up and under his white shirt. His firm abs flexing under your touch.
Just as his eyes roll back, he snaps into reality, pulling away haphazardly.
"B-baby! What's gotten into you?" Clark laughs shakily, confused at the suddenness of your actions. "Look, I'm all dirty," he moves his arm up to wipe away the sweat on his forehead. "Let me take a quick shower and we can continue this, alright?"
Your face drops, "No."
He laughs again, this time with an expression that has you rolling your eyes. He stared at you like the word no was the least of his expected responses. "What do you mean no? Baby, I'm all sweaty—look, my shirt's dirty. I'm dripping of sweat, sweetheart, your clothes gonna get all messed up."
The smile he offers to you was a consoling one. Telling you that he'd really wouldn't want you to be with him in such a state wherein he's not clean and spotless.
You look at him through your lashes, lips separating as you stood on your tiptoes, moving close to his ear while he quickly leans down to your touch. "All the more reason to let me suck your cock, Clark."
When you pull back, you grin devilishly when Clark looks at you with bewildered eyes. His adam's apple bobbing uncontrollably. You push him back onto the steps of the loft, his body falling defenselessly on the top section of the stairs, the two of you hidden by just a few wooden panels.
Clark swallows on nothing, the heat of your voice has blood rushing into his cock, jeans tightening quicker than usual. You throw your bag somewhere in the loft, the rattle of your things being the least of your worries.
You turn to Clark, taking one more look at him; sweaty, flushed, and very much aroused. The evident bulge in his pants and shirt has you drooling.
You climb on top of him, Clark's hand immediately holding your body to make sure you won't fall back. You kiss him with much hunger in you, aggressively swiping your tongue and biting his bottom lip.
Your hips grind on his clothed cock, the rough material of his jeans making you mewl into the kiss. Clark lets you in without a fight, tongue tangling itself with yours as he has his own exploration underneath your top. Big, manly hands cupping your breasts through your bra.
You grind even harder on his cock, a coil building up in your core despite the two of you still fully clothed. You pull your hand up to slide underneath the waistband of his pants, feeling the weight of his hardening cock on your hand. The fabric of his boxers slowly getting wet by the tip.
Clark pulls away to let out a rough whimper, raspy and breathy, his forehead scrunching up with the way you jerk him softly through his boxers. The sound makes you feel hotter, urging you to ruin him even more.
The two of you separate for a brief moment, Clark's hands immediately moving to take off his white shirt, already holding the hem when you put your hand over his. You shake your head, smirking.
"Shirt stays on, handsome," you wink at him, leaning down to kiss the firm center of his chest, keeping his eyes locked with yours.
Clark throws his head back, grunting. You take the moment to hop off of his lap and pull his jeans just past down his knees. Clark helping you out to quicken the process, now equally as aroused as you are… probably even more.
His boxers tent shamelessly, the thin piece of blue fabric failing to hide the outline of his dick as you make out a darker colored blue right at the tip. Your mouth waters at the thought of his cock leaking just for you.
You pull down the waistband of his boxers, completely captivated at the way his cock proudly stands up, just barely hitting past your lips. The ridiculous size of it has you clenching your legs together, doing your best to fight the urge to just take him right then and there.
However, you had other plans, some that supersedes the ache between your thighs… like making sure Clark Kent remembers never to wear a white shirt when you're coming over.
His cock twitches on its own, the tip pulsing with an angry shade of red. It was so hard, you swore it looked like hurt. And for Clark, it actually did—even more so when you stare at it like it's the only thing you ever wanted. His hips move impatiently, Clark doing his best to stop himself from grabbing you and doing the job himself.
Finally, your hand cautiously grabs his shaft, involuntarily licking your lips at you began jerking it off, testing the waters as you flicked your eyes up to your boyfriend.
Clark's barely hanging on. His mind is going dizzier and dizzier by the second. Feeling his sanity hang by a single thread now that you're starting to move your hand even faster. Trying to hold in the moan in his throat when you put your lips around his tip, rolling your tongue around the fat head of his cock.
The salty taste of his pre-cum made you sigh contentedly, the vibration in your mouth making him twitch.
"You taste so fucking good, baby," you rasp, holding out your tongue to lick one thick stripe on the underside of his cock. Making sure you keep your eyes locked with his, not letting him miss a single moment of your version of heaven-on-earth.
"Oh God," Clark groans, now slightly high-pitched. His eyebrows furrowing upwards, lips falling apart.
He stays there, incapable of looking away from you as your tongue began slobbering all over his cock. Tasting and tracing every vein that trail from it, like an artist mimicking lines for their piece.
You take him in your mouth, slowly and deliberately, making sure to breathe through your nose as you already feel him at the back of your throat, lips stretched to the max as you did your best to take him in, both in length and in girth.
Clark's cock is only halfway inside of your mouth when you gag, the tip hitting the back of your throat making you swallow involuntarily. His hips jerk up, chasing after the tightness of your throat as the sound finally escapes his mouth.
The sound. The whimper.
It was brief, quiet, and subtle, you wouldn't have caught it any other day but fortunately today wasn't those days. The sound makes your insides swell as Clark finally falls back on steps defeatedly. His arms stretching to the back of his head, his biceps spilling out of the sleeves of his shirt, the thought of the fabric ripping because of it making you even more motivated.
You pull off his cock with a loud breath, gasping like you had just been submerged underwater way longer than you should have been. Your hand moves up and down the remainder of his cock—the part you didn't manage to suck—your other hand coming to your lips as you spat on it loudly.
A grin comes onto your lips, Clark's eyes rolling to the back of his head when he watches you rub your spit all over his cock. Making sure every inch of him is covered by you.
You put him back in your mouth, this time having an easier time fitting him in. When you began bobbing your head up and down his cock, tongue licking the shaft, Clark's unable to control his moans. Whimpers and whines spilling from his mouth, clearly trying to use whatever sanity he has to manage the volume of his sounds.
You don't want him to, though. You want him utterly wrecked, broken, head too deep in the pleasure to even worry about who hears his beautiful sounds.
"Fuck, baby—oh god, that's…" Your sudden hand on his balls has him moving uncontrollably. Clark pulling himself up to prop on his elbows, lips red from biting it over and over again, his lust-blown eyes staring at where your hand fondled with him.
He drops his head back, feeling you swallow around his cock. One hand stroking him event faster, the other massaging his balls. Everything around him begins to blur as he slowly loses the reins of his mind.
You let him thrust inside of your mouth, keeping your breath going through your nose, letting him hear the loud and dirty sound of your gagging.
"O-oh!" He gasps loudly, eyes closing shut when you moan around his cock. Slipping off for a second to run your tongue over his bails, popping each one in your mouth before taking his cock back in. "Fuck, that feels so good baby. Don't—mhmm—don't stop, baby, please, right there."
You don't stop the smile that tries to come on your lips, every time your name slips from his mouth is like an angel whispering to you the greatest of songs.
Clark's control disappears. Abandoning his care for anything else besides you on his cock.
You do a quick motion to pull his shirt back just a bit, giving yourself some eye candy—his sweaty abs flexing—as you hurriedly try to push him off the ledge.
Clark grabs the hem of his shirt, almost pulling off his white shirt when you stop him. "I said it stays on, handsome."
He groans, dropping the fabric from his hands and putting them on either side of your head. The moment he does, you know he's got nothing else on his mind now aside from getting himself off.
Clark begins to chase after his own release. Hips thrusting into your mouth with a roughness that has you stuck on the spot. Eyes watching every strain of muscle in his features. His cock hits the back of your throat multiple times but you didn't care. Not even a bit.
All you cared about, at the moment, was letting him finish himself, letting out every bit of frustration he has about the world inside the warm inside of your lips.
"There, shit—nnghf, fuck, stay like that baby," Clark says, whiney and breathy. Pleas of your name falling endlessly.
He feels the coil in his lower stomach twist even harder. The familiar white spots appearing in his vision as he clenches his teeth together, doing his best to tip himself off the edge without accidentally hurting you.
When your fingers tighten around the base of his cock, just enough to give him mind-dizzying pressure, he looks down. Your eyes locking with his in the most erotic way you could. Then he lets go.
Clark's lips split open to let out one of the deepest groan you ever heard from him. Ropes of his cum coating the inside of your mouth as he rides out his high, grunting and whimpering every time his dick touched the softness of your cheeks.
"Shit, that was… Oh fuck," he sighs, slowly coming back down to Earth as he looks around.
You grin at him, holding your tongue out to show him his masterpiece. "Baby." he says, running his hands through his hair as the aftershocks of his orgasm still made his thighs clench.
You swallow his cum without a question. Throwing your hair to the side as you shifted in your place, peeling off your panties from underneath your skirt.
Clark smirks lazily, thinking he knows what comes next.
Unfortunately for him, you weren't done yet.
You throw your panty over to him, Clark catching it with ease before he holds it close to his face, just enough to get a whiff of your wetness on it. His eyes darkening the moment he sees it absolutely drenched.
"You did so good for me, handsome," you purr, coming on top of him to nip at the neckline of his shirt. Licking the beads of sweat twinkling down his neck. The salty taste of the liquid making you hum contentedly. "So fucking good."
"Let me take care of you now, sweets. Must be so drenched for me, huh?" Clark tries to slide off your top, running his hands all over your sides.
You chuckle, the glint in your eyes telling him something different. "I'm not done with you yet, baby. Just relax for me, m'kay?"
You sit back up, sitting on top of his thighs, your skirt bunched around your hips to give Clark a sight of what's happening to you underneath that composed facade of yours.
Clark watches you with anticipation, tongue coming out to lick his lips as he tries to prop himself up with his elbows again.
"H-hey!" Clark stutters, eyes widening when your hands grab his cock again. It was still hard, leaking, and even aching. You're not sure just one release gets the job done. "Sweets, I just came…" he breathes, voice cautiously low. "It's your turn now, c'mon. Let me take care of you." He tries to pull you up from your position, maybe even have you sit on his face as a way to return the favor.
You don't budge though. You slap his hand away with your free one, leaning down to put your face beside his cock. The lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out your palm paired with the subtle tingles of overstimulation, and your erotic eyes, it gets the same fire inside of him burning again.
"Just give me one more, Clark. One more and I'll let you take me," you pause, tilting your head to his cock, spitting on it loudly, "…however you want."
Clark glares at you, jaw clenched and body tense, his eyes holding a sense of determination that tells you he's not turning down your offer.
A proud smile comes on your lips, giving the base of his cock one kiss before you start jerking him off. Using your spit and his pre-cum to slide it smoothly. You use both of your hands now, one at the top focusing on his tip, while the other moved up and down his length.
"Mhfm," Clark groaned, his tip being too sensitive right now. His face getting warmer by the second, body clenching uncontrollably. "B-baby, it's… oh… fuck."
"Yeah?" You raise an eyebrow, taking your hands off abruptly making him thrust upwards into nothing.
He looks at you wide-eyed, shocked and confused. You only chuckle at him, slowly placing your hand by his face, open palm by his mouth. Clark stares at you, awaiting your word.
"Spit." Clark gathers up his saliva for a second before spitting it all in your hand.
You smile, thanking him sweetly before you went back to your position. Letting the feeling in his stomach subside before placing your hands back. The hand with his spit placed over his tip, swirling his own liquid around the engorged head.
It was right then did Clark understand how fucked he was. How fucking dirty all of this is.
Worst of it all, he can't even do anything. He's fully at your mercy. Having to take everything you're giving to him without a complaint.
You find your pace, wasting no time to finally get that second release you desperately wanted from him.
Clark doesn't fight it anymore. He lets out every groan, whimper, and moan he has in him. Your name being at the top of the his lungs as he continuously called out for you, begging and pleading to let him come.
"Please, baby, I'm—I'm almost there baby."
"You gonna come f'me?" You tease, batting your eyelashes innocently.
"Uh-huh, keep going," Clark nods repeatedly, his features scrunching up as he feels it start to hurt, start to tingle. Somewhere between the pain and pleasure of the overwhelming sensation—that's where he is. Almost at the top. "Yes, baby, just like that."
You decide not to torture him even more, letting him have his release as you continued to move your hands with a faster pace. The sounds of his cries slowly getting louder.
Then, you hear a voice downstairs.
"Clark? You there sweetheart?" Martha Kent.
His eyes shoot open, hand immediately slapping over his mouth to stop his own moans. He looks to you with panic, but you only smile wider.
"I've finished baking!" Martha called again. Apparently she's been looking for you as well. "When you find her, head to the kitchen, alright? I tried a new recipe for my muffins, try 'em out."
You swiftly, and carefully, move to his ear, whispering: "Answer her."
He shakes his head, "No," he says quietly.
"Now," you say, dropping one hand from his length to his balls.
Clark's eyes roll back, taking his hand off of his mouth. "Y-yeah, mom, we'll check… check it out in a bit!"
His voice was shaky, but you applaud him from even trying. Staring at him proudly, stars dancing in your eyes as you hear Martha's great! see you! in the back, footsteps slowly disappearing.
Clark releases all over your hand the moment you sit back on his thighs, wet slit touching his bare thigh. An aching and almost painful groan ripped away from his throat as more strings of cum shoot out of his cock. Generously falling down the tip and onto the base.
Clark's breathing heavily now. Chest moving up and down after what felt to be like the last orgasm in his lifeline. It was so strong—so intense, he couldn't even wrap his head around what just happened.
Why you were still smiling at him as your tongue licked up the cum dripping on his length, as if you didn't just swallow it minutes ago.
You clean him up, his cock finally softening just a bit in your hold. You move up to him, resting your chin on chest. "You’re so pretty."
Clark's weak scoff enters your ear. Arm weakly wrapping around your back. "Have I been neglecting you or what?"
You laugh at him, kissing his lips lightly. "Never stop wearing white shirts."
When you start rolling away to get up, Clark tightens his hold on you.
"Oh, baby," he shakes his head, tongue poking at his cheek. "You're not getting off that easily. Up the loft, c'mon. It's my turn."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo
THE PRINCESS' SEVEN MERCENARIES —MINI SERIES [✿ ❄︎ ☁︎]
sum. : you're the missing princess living in a cottage with a group of undercover mercenaries
relationships : poly cevans characters/snow white reader ; mercenary steve rogers/snow white reader ; mercenary curtis everett/snow white reader ; mercenary jake jensen/snow white reader ; mercenary ransom drysdale/snow white reader ; mercenary ari levinson/snow white reader ; mercenary andy barber/snow white reader ; mercenary lloyd hansen/snow white reader
tags. : reader is a disney princess au ; mercenary cevans characters ; magic/fantasy au ; a/b/o dynamics (but not too significant) ; fluff ; disney au ; snow white and the seven dwarves inspired ; all of them go soft for reader ; a/b/o 'customs' (i made them my own hehe~) ; evil queen is evil ; eventual poly relationship
inspiration : there were several, the main being 'what was wrong with poisoning her seven men' by @imyourbratzdoll -- a beautiful, smutty snow white adaptation with a slew of delicious hunky men! i highly recommend giving it and the rest of her 'a whore's fairy tale' series a read ;) i'm not much of a smut writer but i am a hoe for cevans various characters x reader and fairy tale adaptations hehe~ so here's my little fluffy twist on the classic snow white fairy tale, i hope you darlings enjoy the read!
chapters :
i. a swift escape
ii. a fateful meeting
iii. a different morning
iv. the liberal guard
v. the smitten charmer
vi. the foolish genius ⌊new⌉
vii. the lumbering repairman
viii. the soft negotiator
ix. the gentle executioner
x. the lenient captain
xi. a peaceful routine
xii. the evil queen
xiii. epilogue
(i still can't believe i have a taglist for this passion project of a series with the first being my inspirational writer for the series (இ﹏இ`。) )
property of kqutie ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites
summary: steve had left you for a time that had forgotten him, with only a letter as an explanation. you were given another him, in another universe.
pairings: steve rogers x reader
warnings: angst, very lazy summary, read for a sexy steve! alternate earth, stark reader, eventual soft!dark themes.
“please state your name and where you came from,” the agent utters, tone void of any humane emotion as he gestures to the camera silently mocking you, as it blinked rapidly.
still rubbing your sore wrist, you kept your lips pressed together hoping to make this as unpleasant as you could. you'd been rudely transported into this warped timeline as you were being tossed into the air by a combat robot you used for training; you doubted the pile of metal and wires had the capability nor the powers to hurl you in another dimension, but you were still tossed, rather roughly on your ass.
yet before you even had the chance to process anything, or launch a defensive attack; several high powered guns were pointed at your person, and you were knocked out cold and brought to this interrogating facility.
SHIELD, you bitterly came to the conclusion. you were familiar with their protocols, their interrogation tactics, and their structure of their facility. you'd trained and worked several missions and recon assignments with some of the agents you've seen decorating their halls; even being ushered by colleagues you've shared stale coffee with, but they didn't know you here.
and you've simply reached the desired conclusion; this was an unfamiliar world.
though you have been leading a somewhat destructive life after losing nearly everything after the battle with the mad titan, there was still some self preservation left in you, and you didn't want to totally be obliterated in this foreign world with no body for pepper to mourn with.
what did taylor swift say? play stupid games, win stupid prices.
until you could communicate with friday, or be sure that you're totally safe here, you were going to be the most silent and unhlepful captive these walls have ever seen.
“state your name and where you came from.” the agent bellows firmly.
“what year is it?” you tilt your head, he purses his lips in thought, looking at you as if you're something foreign; then uttering the year.
“huh. so thanos was three years ago?” you breathe, “you guys beat him too?”
the agent looked at you with a suddenly, surprised expression.
“take my blood; run your tests. when you get the result, bring me your highest ranking officer.” you demand.
"tony has a daughter." sam balks in disbelief, his mouth gaping in scandal at the mere prospect of tony's many exploits coming into fruiton. "an adult daughter."
"old news, small head big body." bucky snorts, putting the weights down. sam bristles, a snarky reply tethering on his tongue, yet steve interrupts.
"it's the worst kept secret around the compound." steve remarks amusedly, somehow finding the fact that covert special agents become loose lipped when it came to gossip. "the lesser known fact however, is where she came from." he grabs his flask, and sat upright from the bench, and rehydrated.
the other savory details of your appearance had been limited to a few people; mostly the avengers and the key personnel involved. they hadn't yet realized the reason as to why you'd be in another dimension entirely unprompted. and while they knew time travel was possible, being in an alternate universe was a topic they have yet to dabble in.
so while they try to identify which earth you were originally from, it was better to keep very few people about your origins.
"she just appeared." bucky nods conspiratorially, "an alien, basically."
"basically fit right in." steve shrugs, making light of how many otherwordly being they've encountered over the years. "tony adores her, though." he adds.
"she has everyone eating off her palm, let's be fucking honest." bucky chortles, "kind. endearing. smart. witty—"
"breathtaking actually." sam adds, recalling when he passed by you in the hallways.
"breathtaking." bucky agrees, smirking. "she's every bit of a stark. so much so, she hates steve's guts."
steve huffs, "hate is a strong word."
"you're right. she's incredibly polite, it's almost rude." bucky grins, making no effort to hide the fact that he enjoyed your interactions with steve.
you wouldn't be rude— no, you were the furthest thing from it. you would use honorifics even, call him captain or simply mr. rogers. your hostility with steve would be pronnounced every way that mattered, and bucky could tell it was starting to make steve flustered.
being captain america came with both adoration and hostility— the public either loved him or hated him, and he was used to such instances. steve couldn't please everyone afterall.
the way you looked at him though; it was more than animosity. it felt almost like.. like a scorned lover.
"oh fuck. i knew i shouldn't have been in that mission." sam chortles, while steve grumbles in annoyance. "went out of town once and i miss all these juice." he giggles, and bucky mirrors his grin. perhaps the only time they could maintain a conversation without hurling insults, and jabs at eachother; at steve's expense.
bucky gestures, "wanna know the worst part?" sam nods vigorously, "he's hot for her."
steve abruptly drops the weights he'd been using, making sam and bucky pause at the abrupt noise.
"are the both of you in elementary?" he chides, trying to keep his tone even.
"steve and y/n sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N—"
"fuck off!"
your nerves settled as soon as the caffeine hits your tongue. your shoulders slumped, tension leaving you altogether, and you sighed a silent prayer.
you were plenty similar to tony when it came down to it; your pet projects had been less important where you came from, but so long as your objective was necessary, you won't sleep unless you achieve it.
now, going home was your primary goal... one you'd worked together with tony. or a moniker of him.
it felt strange to address him that way.
you knew their tony stark was different— their avengers stayed intact for one. but to see him again, his excellent goatie and hear his sharp wit, you'd tackled him in a frantic hug and sobbed so hard, he must have thought you to be lunatic.
tony was briefly informed of your identity, and while it wasn't an instantaneous paternal spark, he had felt for you. he had let you cry all you wanted. he consoled you, if a bit awkwardly. unpracticed, just like he had been when you wound up in his care at thirteen leaving him with primary custody.
just like then, he grew to become fascinated with you. you shared his love for engineering and technology. like the first time, he had spent every free moment he had with you; talking to you, getting you situated, making sure you were well taken care of... it felt like deja vu. and you would, eventually, lose him again.
you didn't exist here, just like he didn't exist back in your earth.
"careful."
"sorry!" your exclamation is abrupt as the paper cup crumbles in your hand, body jerking quickly as you avoid spilling coffee to the stranger. you had been so absentminded, you ran into a person's chest— cool baby blues, and the heroic perfect blonde hair paired with the most annoyingly perfect set of teeth welcomed you as you lifted your gaze.
steve rogers held you by your elbow, keeping you from tripping over yourself, "you alright?"
you felt as if something was lodged in your throat, being this close with him. he smelt unfairly delectable, despite being drenched in sweat.
this cannot be happening.
you squirmed out of his hold, and he politely took back his hand, keeping them to himself. just like you were, he was caught off guard. both by your reaction and his.
steve... steve was another complication. you couldn't get too close to him— there were many things left unsaid between the two of you, and you were terrified you would not be able to treat him fairly.
you were still angry with the choice he made.
when steve never returned from returning the stones; you'd assumed the worst. you would have exhausted every means to bring him back, if not for the letter bucky had given you.
he told you he couldn't stay; he told you he wanted to reclaim everything he's lost. he left you for a time long forgotten, and you never saw him again.
you liked to think you would understand him, if only he had told you. you liked to think you'd understand why he made the choice. it was what he wanted for himself.
yet you wonder, not unselfishly, if steve had loved you the way he had promised he did; if steve had known it would be possible to go back, will he still choose you? had he merely settled... were you just there; available, attached, and so starry eyed, you stoked his ego enough for him to forget momentarily.
for the past few months, all you did was agonize over the very fact; had every moment you spent with him been tainted with pretense and lies?
you entertained the very real prospect that he did not love you— maybe then the ache in your chest would not be replaced with anger.
because if he had loved you, the way he uttered in your skin; in a soft whisper, like a sigh of breath first thing in the morning. in a giddy exclamation, with his lips pressing upon yours. or in a dazed, soft coo as he bats away the exhaustion of the day. in a certain, so sure of a declaration, as he wraps you in a warm embrace... why was it not enough?
if he had loved you so assuredly and devotedly, he did not love you enough to choose you.
seeing another version of steve— adoring, with the same gentle cheer about him, so dreamy and bright, you stumbled.
he was steve... and yet he stayed. he had the same choice, yet he never took it. he didn't have someone like you though; so maybe, you were the offending factor in your version of steve. that made you ache.
"i apologize, captain." you purse your lips.
"nothin' to be sorry for," his tone was with a gentle lilt, "you uh.. liking the caffeine choices so far?" steve inwardly cringes at his attempt for conversation. he hadn't known how to talk to you, or how to make conversation with you— especially when you get that dazed look in your eyes, immedieately followed by a guarded expression as if afraid he would probe into your thoughts.
"it's excellent." you affirm, avoiding his gaze as if scalded. you hid your expression with your cup, and finally, steve reluctantly pries his gaze away from you.
steve walked towards the pantry, if to have something to do with himself, "yeah? half the team lives on the stuff, it's pretty good chunk of the budget." he pulls out a cup from the shelf, "once things get busy, it's not strange to find splatters of blood and torn pieces of clothing lying about. it gets primitive."
you fought off a smile. it was an appropriate retelling of how the team functioned— they were like siblings in a way. they have no problem taking a bullet for eachother, but once the coffee pot runs dry, they're throwing hands. the thought of your closest friends made you relax.
"that sounded wrong, did it?" steve winces, turning around with his own brew in hand. you looked at him with some amusement, hiding half your face in your cup, "no harm in a team bonding activity."
pink tinged his cheeks, "i didn't mean it like that." he flusters easily. the captain reminded you why you were fond of toying with steve. "i don't- i'm not.. i— i hope you don't think i'm inappropriate." his broad shoulders sag, looking at you like a kicked puppy, worried as can be of offending you.
steve was watchful of his language, especially when it came to dames; something about his upbringing being wired into his very psyche.
"i'm a stark, captain. would take a lot more to faze me." your eyes twinkled with mischief, and steve softens, almost awes at the genuine emotion he sees in you.
steve seemed to be the only one you were guarded against, and he'd been inappropriately envious of his teammates. they all talked about you in an excited flurry of retelling, like bucky had said, you had everyone eating off your palm. and he always wondered if he'd get to know you the same.
you caught his expression.. and it was as if a cold bucket of water drenched you.
"uh, i guess.. i have something to do." you gripped your cup, and steve stood straighter, opening his mouth to say something. anything. yet his limbs were faster than his... words. you look at him again, with little to no emotion in your face as he ponders how to make sense of his sneaking intuition as he grips your arm.
"did i do something to you?" steve asks, unable to stop himself.
"you haven't." you murmur, "i'm trying to keep it that way. i know from experience how that worked."
SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.
Warnings: Cursing, Angst.
A/N: imy guys!!!!!
CHAPTER FOUR
“What are you going to do, dollface?” Natasha asks, a worried frown on her face. “You know i will fully support you in whatever decision you make, but i worry about you.”
This is the only life you know about; Were the words left unsaid. Safe in their arms and shielded from the horrors of the world, you were carefully treasured at the palm of their hands, never truly knowing what it meant to suffer any form of grievance.
How will you ever live otherwise? Well, spite was a powerful thing. Heartbreak too. What do they say about women who were scorned? Never to fuck with them.
And right about now, you were feeling extremely vengeful and inclined to doing something extremely stupid. Although, for the sake of being fair and the years you shared with your husbands, you were leaning towards a peaceful resolution. One that was being refuted by the small voice you tempered down with reason.
The tears have gone dry, and the omega inside of you was itching for revenge. Wanting to give your alpha's a new one. A reason for them to truly look the other way.
She surprised you. Normally, she takes their side no matter what happened. Never finding fault with Steve nor Clark, always whining for their attention and barely holding any sort of grudge. But now she's steaming with anger and egging you on to abandon their sorry asses.
You figured it was a betrayal that ran deeper than flesh. You were on the prepice of being replaced, of being abandoned. Your base instinct was rebelling against the idea of being tossed aside, and urging you to flee before you truly get replaced. A self preservation instinct, if you will.
“To be honest, i don't know either.” You whisper, biting your lower lip in thought. “They have told me absolutely nothing. Acting as if i was a merely a decoration in their lives. It's so frustrating because they treat me as if i don't matter, like i was a stranger in my own home.”
Natasha bites her lower lip, sitting herself close to you and holding your hands in earnest. "Tell me how to help you."
Your shoulders were tense and your expression quickly shifted from that of hurt and heartbreak, to a blank one. Determination was squarely set in your gaze as you come up with a resolution for you.
"I need to leave."
***
"I could kill you." Steve's booming baritone welcomes Clark as he pressed the phone to his ears. He expected the other Alpha to have a good nose when it came to such things; all matters concerning you were their top priority so it didn't come as a shock.
Clark maintains he'd never do anything to hurt you, and that oath holds him true to this day. Yet the circumstance had him on a short, tight leash in navigating that promise. He was duty bound, no matter how cruel it sounded.
An omega just for him. One that was his genetic match. In paper.
"Nice of you to check in." He waves the rest of his staff away, knowing the conversation to be personal with threats of every kind being thrown about in the mix.
"You better have a good reason as to why you're housing a bitch." Steve bit the word off like he was utterly disgusted, and a growl ripped through Clark's chest.
"Mind your words, brother." He warns, jaw clenching. No matter how mild-tempered he was, the other alpha's implication had him defensive. He rested his back on the swivel chair, sighing "I don't take kindly at your implication."
"I'm not implying anything, Kent." Steve hisses, "I can take my wife away. Make it so you'd never even see her—"
"I dare you, Rogers." Clark tenses, the menacing growl cutting through the silence in his office. "She is as much bound to me in matrimony."
Steve and Clark were both powerful in their own right— their wealth and affluence were second to none, and they were the unspoken kings of New York. While they exercise dominance in many aspects of their life, it would be unlikely they bring the same menacing attitude home.
No, at home, they were merely your husbands. Parallel in their desire to keep you satisfied and happy, like any alpha with their bonded mate. Their base instincts craved to see you comfortable, well loved and safe under their careful care.
It was as surprising to the rest of the world when such dominant alphas could share a sole omega; even so, because Steve and Clark barely intersected if not on a business setting. While sharing among packs were commonplace, neither Alpha's belonged in the same faction, with Clark being hailed from Smallville and Steve in Brooklyn.
They were as civilized as they come. Polite, educated, over-achieving faces of their prime designation. However, anybody would tell you that propriety and forgiveness does not hold any single ounce of sway in their lives once somebody as much steps on their toes.
Being possessive and selfish came with that territory, so while their arguements were few and far between— measured and handled with like responsible adults, there had indeed been times where they almost rip eachother's head off unbeknownst to you.
"You have to believe that i have her best interest in my heart." Clark grounds out, trying to temper down an outburst. He tries his best to rationalize; He wasn't trying to justify a so called affair to him, or get away with something unspeakable.
Clark knows he would react the same, if not with a tentative explosion aimed to snuff out Steve; he shared the same protectiveness when it came to you, afterall, yet he was designated to become the necessary evil in the grand scheme of things. He needed to be the executioner of the dirty work lest... lest it touches you.
"Trust me." Clark emphasizes, tone set with certainty and self-assurance; his was a confidence that had won him everything in life. "You know as much as i do what needs to be done."
There was a pause in the other line.
"Make it quick." Steve's agreement was strained, a hint of relent in his visage. Things had spiralled out of their control a few dozen things ago, and he was desperate to have a shred of control. "It does not touch her, Kent. Not ever."
"You don't need to tell me twice." Came his prompt response, "Safe skies, then. You wouldn't want me to have all the fun, do you?"
SUMMARY: In a world where Omega's were scant and decent alpha's even more so, you think you're one in a million to be in a relationship with Alpha's who not only take care of your every whims and need, but also love and respect you unconditionally. However, your marital bliss of two years is interrupted by the concept of ‘true mates’.
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Clark kent.
Warnings: Cursing, Angst.
A/N: imy guys!!!!!
CHAPTER FOUR
“What are you going to do, dollface?” Natasha asks, a worried frown on her face. “You know i will fully support you in whatever decision you make, but i worry about you.”
This is the only life you know about; Were the words left unsaid. Safe in their arms and shielded from the horrors of the world, you were carefully treasured at the palm of their hands, never truly knowing what it meant to suffer any form of grievance.
How will you ever live otherwise? Well, spite was a powerful thing. Heartbreak too. What do they say about women who were scorned? Never to fuck with them.
And right about now, you were feeling extremely vengeful and inclined to doing something extremely stupid. Although, for the sake of being fair and the years you shared with your husbands, you were leaning towards a peaceful resolution. One that was being refuted by the small voice you tempered down with reason.
The tears have gone dry, and the omega inside of you was itching for revenge. Wanting to give your alpha's a new one. A reason for them to truly look the other way.
She surprised you. Normally, she takes their side no matter what happened. Never finding fault with Steve nor Clark, always whining for their attention and barely holding any sort of grudge. But now she's steaming with anger and egging you on to abandon their sorry asses.
You figured it was a betrayal that ran deeper than flesh. You were on the prepice of being replaced, of being abandoned. Your base instinct was rebelling against the idea of being tossed aside, and urging you to flee before you truly get replaced. A self preservation instinct, if you will.
“To be honest, i don't know either.” You whisper, biting your lower lip in thought. “They have told me absolutely nothing. Acting as if i was a merely a decoration in their lives. It's so frustrating because they treat me as if i don't matter, like i was a stranger in my own home.”
Natasha bites her lower lip, sitting herself close to you and holding your hands in earnest. "Tell me how to help you."
Your shoulders were tense and your expression quickly shifted from that of hurt and heartbreak, to a blank one. Determination was squarely set in your gaze as you come up with a resolution for you.
"I need to leave."
***
"I could kill you." Steve's booming baritone welcomes Clark as he pressed the phone to his ears. He expected the other Alpha to have a good nose when it came to such things; all matters concerning you were their top priority so it didn't come as a shock.
Clark maintains he'd never do anything to hurt you, and that oath holds him true to this day. Yet the circumstance had him on a short, tight leash in navigating that promise. He was duty bound, no matter how cruel it sounded.
An omega just for him. One that was his genetic match. In paper.
"Nice of you to check in." He waves the rest of his staff away, knowing the conversation to be personal with threats of every kind being thrown about in the mix.
"You better have a good reason as to why you're housing a bitch." Steve bit the word off like he was utterly disgusted, and a growl ripped through Clark's chest.
"Mind your words, brother." He warns, jaw clenching. No matter how mild-tempered he was, the other alpha's implication had him defensive. He rested his back on the swivel chair, sighing "I don't take kindly at your implication."
"I'm not implying anything, Kent." Steve hisses, "I can take my wife away. Make it so you'd never even see her—"
"I dare you, Rogers." Clark tenses, the menacing growl cutting through the silence in his office. "She is as much bound to me in matrimony."
Steve and Clark were both powerful in their own right— their wealth and affluence were second to none, and they were the unspoken kings of New York. While they exercise dominance in many aspects of their life, it would be unlikely they bring the same menacing attitude home.
No, at home, they were merely your husbands. Parallel in their desire to keep you satisfied and happy, like any alpha with their bonded mate. Their base instincts craved to see you comfortable, well loved and safe under their careful care.
It was as surprising to the rest of the world when such dominant alphas could share a sole omega; even so, because Steve and Clark barely intersected if not on a business setting. While sharing among packs were commonplace, neither Alpha's belonged in the same faction, with Clark being hailed from Smallville and Steve in Brooklyn.
They were as civilized as they come. Polite, educated, over-achieving faces of their prime designation. However, anybody would tell you that propriety and forgiveness does not hold any single ounce of sway in their lives once somebody as much steps on their toes.
Being possessive and selfish came with that territory, so while their arguements were few and far between— measured and handled with like responsible adults, there had indeed been times where they almost rip eachother's head off unbeknownst to you.
"You have to believe that i have her best interest in my heart." Clark grounds out, trying to temper down an outburst. He tries his best to rationalize; He wasn't trying to justify a so called affair to him, or get away with something unspeakable.
Clark knows he would react the same, if not with a tentative explosion aimed to snuff out Steve; he shared the same protectiveness when it came to you, afterall, yet he was designated to become the necessary evil in the grand scheme of things. He needed to be the executioner of the dirty work lest... lest it touches you.
"Trust me." Clark emphasizes, tone set with certainty and self-assurance; his was a confidence that had won him everything in life. "You know as much as i do what needs to be done."
There was a pause in the other line.
"Make it quick." Steve's agreement was strained, a hint of relent in his visage. Things had spiralled out of their control a few dozen things ago, and he was desperate to have a shred of control. "It does not touch her, Kent. Not ever."
"You don't need to tell me twice." Came his prompt response, "Safe skies, then. You wouldn't want me to have all the fun, do you?"
