This piece was inspired by this lovely ask that I received an inexplicably long time ago: Seeing an intense and loving sex scene Alex just shot and it lowkey breaks your heart but you don’t show anything bc you don’t want him to get the wrong idea and think you don’t support him but he can tell you’re upset and now /his/ heart breaks bc he can tell you try SO hard not to break down in front of him all day long so he confronts you about it and you tell him everything and that you’re not angry just very sad and you can’t help it and you’re sorry and he shushes you and sweet sex ensues
fluffy smut ensues- enjoy, friends.
“Hi love,” A crewman on Alexander’s latest film, and the first friendly face she had come across since arriving on set, wrapped a free arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek lovingly. “Alright?” He asked.
“Alright,” She smiled and set her purse down by her feet. “How’ve you been Pete? Busy, I bet.”
Peter shrugged and removed the headset from his ears. “Absolutely. Always. You uh… chose an interesting day to visit us,” He remarked with a quirk of a wildly unkempt eyebrow.
“Oh?” She asked and craned above the heads of the scant crew in search of Alexander. “I was hoping to surprise him…”
Peter cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side, his expression uneasy. “They are about to film their second and final love scene of the shoot.”
She swallowed hard and settled back onto the balls of her feet, her heart thrumming wildly in her chest. Two options suddenly become apparent to her: she could cut and run; blame it on a forgotten zoom meeting, or a lunch date with an old friend in the same city. Alternatively, she could swallow back the nausea rising steadily in her throat and remain rooted to the spot. Both options left little room for pride and her cheeks flamed under that realization, and the burning set lights around her. “Oh, that’s alright.” She smiled, shyly.
“You sure?” Peter asked. “Georgia’s camp have asked for a closed set to maximize privacy, and the entire thing was choreographed this morning, so we’re hoping to squash it in as few takes a possible.”
She appreciated his honesty and the soft, protective tone of his voice immensely, but it did little to quell the nervousness that prickled at her unpleasantly. “Sounds great,” She muttered under her breath.
Someone called out to Peter and he rubbed a hand over the rounded curve of her shoulder, offered her up a reassuring smile. “In any regard, he has been waiting weeks to see you. Cannot stop talking about it. He’ll be over the moon that you’re here.” He offered her one last knowing look before wandering off in the direction of the disembodied voice.
She had known exactly what the script entailed before production on the film had even begun, so this could hardly have been a surprise, and yet inexplicably, she still felt blindsided by it.
She watched Alexander and his co-star enter the set, designed to look like a minimalist bedroom. Laughing and talking easily about something, as if they weren’t just about to film a painfully intimate scene. Without warning, the lights around them dimmed almost to nil, and the film’s head spoke into a megaphone.
“Alright guys, here we go. We know what we’re about to be doing, we want total silence, let’s try and get this thing smashed in as few takes as possible, shall we?” A dismal murmur of agreement resounded throughout the crowd as the director counted down and shouted action.
She couldn’t make out what was being said between the two actors, but she watched them approach each other with a familiarity reserved only for two people who had grown to know each other in ways solely attributed to unforgiving hours on a movie set. She watched him approach her, watched a large, sure hand entwine itself into her golden tresses, watched him bend toward her, two pairs of lips locked in a dance only they knew. It was difficult to watch and not imagine the effect it was having on him, but a past conversation swam into her mind’s eye, and aided in easing her trepidation the slightest bit.
“It’s never how you think it’s going to be kid,” He had assured over warming amber beers, in a quiet corner of their favourite pub a year ago. “It’s quite possibly the least sexy aspect of the job. And yes, it is intimate. How could it not be? But there are so many people watching you and- so many of them have differing opinions on how it should be performed…” He sighed, frustrated. “Once I know I’m doing one, I like to try and get it out of the way as soon as possible.” He read the uneasy look on her face like an open book and reached for her hand, squeezing it thrice across the marred wooden tabletop. “It’s always been you, kid.”
Me again:) I wanted to ask if you could write something about the little girl having at her kindergarten a daddy daugther dance and she really wants Alex and Bill to go with her but she is too shy to ask them. So the night before so the reader finds a flyer of the event in her backpack and she is conflicted in asking both of them to accompany her daughter to the dance. Alex and Bill find out and surprise not only the little one but reader too by coming to the dance event. Please?
you knew that they'd take her in a heart beat. that was never a concern that crossed your mind.
but you never knew just how honored and excited the two of them were at the prospect of accompanying their little friend to a dance where they could be acknowledged further, as a family, until you walked into your home, leah's small hand in yours and a bag of groceries in the other, and saw the rose petals adorning the threshold of your home and trailing into the living room. the scent of the petals hit your nose immediately, and while you wanted to relish in the sweet scent, your little girl had other desires, wondering who was luring you both into the living room.
you have to go through those "stranger danger" steps again, clearly.
"mommy, mommy, look!" she squeals, picking up a flurry of petals and tossing them around, and you try your hardest to ignore the mess being made. she tugs your arm harder, and you follow the small little girl and the petals into the living room where your two best friends stood, bodies standing next to each other and clad in expensive looking tuxedos.
"you look so pretty!" leah calls out to them before dashing over to the brawny dane, who crouches down to meet her eager embrace. alex grins and plants a wet kiss on leah's cheek, causing the five-year old to giggle, "pretty handsome, right?"
"extremely," you finish, slowly stalking over to bill with a grateful smile on your face. "you found the invitation, didn't you?" you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. bill snickers, "not like you tried hard to hide it; i mean, come on- in the pocket of her jacket? seriously? you know i religiously clean fruit snacks out of that thing, momma."
alex stops his playing with leah to give you both a dramatic sigh, "and as hurt as we are that you didn't want us to the daddy-daughter dance-"
"i diiiiid!" leah whines. "mommy said no!"
"leah!" you snort, offended at your daughter's willingness to completely disregard what you had actually said: they probably both want to go, and she should save them the heartache and keep it a secret.
not a complete 'no,' anyways.
"regardless," alex tries to hide his snickering. "we want to go. and we're taking you both. because that's what families do."
and while leah only cheers in excitement, her small arms wrapping around alex's thick neck, all you can do is shake your head and wrap your own arm around bill's waist, "where am i supposed to find us a dress?"
"i got you both one!" alex says, almost offended you that you expected him to not think of everything.
"how do you know my dress size!"
he grins cheekily, "the times you've gotten wine drunk and i've had to zip those damned things off of you-"
Hi Sweetie! Love the new layout and the idea for dark fics! Can I have a drabble of Dark!Alex? Something about that 6'4 King looming over me does something 🥴You can do anything you want, but lots of smut!!! And can the reader be black please?
Warnings: Non-con/rape fic, abuse, degradation, forced impregnation, swearing, just plan evil Alex, Bill being a creep, Black Reader but anyone can engage
He was so unpredictable; you never know when the next high or low will strike you, but the trick is just to flow with the tide. Or should I say, roll with the punches.
It was currently 7:18pm and you've got the roast in the oven, the veggies and sides on the stove, but none of that matters because you’re preoccupied being tossed around like a rag doll.
Yes, he gave you clear instructions; to be kneeling at the door when he got home. That’s all you had to do, but then your phone rang. Your work phone, and if you wanted to keep your well deserved job then you had to answer it. You had your back turned to your office door when you heard the front door open. You didn’t turn around because you knew who entered. You silently cursed under your breath as your co-worker realized the time and decided to let you go.
No, keep me on the phone. Please don’t hang up.
Your silent pleas fell short as you said your goodbyes and you had to face the giant in the other room. The phone is set down on your desk, you take a deep breath and turn to leave your office. When you turn around, you’re met with a menacing glare.
Neither of you say a word, but you stand there shakily.
“Alex-” you finally break the silence, but only to be met with a harsh crack to your face. You lose your balance but catch yourself on your bookshelf. You turn around with a new fire in your eyes, “Goddamit! You can’t do this to me just because-”
He lightly popped you in the mouth.
“STOP HATING ME BECAUSE OF MY JOB! NONE OF THIS IS MY FUCKING FAULT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”
There you were, on the white shaggy rug in your home office that was now stained with crimson droplets that came from your plump, and now purple bottom lip. This is the third time this week you’ve been in this very situation, but this is by far the worst. You knew he was stressed and you overworking wasn’t helping because now your schedules don’t match up, but that was no excuse. It took you a second to remember your surroundings and where you are.
Before you could even properly comprehend, you’re being lifted off the floor and dragged to the living room. There, you’re met with eyes you didn’t know were present. He’s just sitting there. Why wasn’t he helping you? You thought he was your friend.
You were thrown down at Bill’s feet. You tried to grasp on to him, but you were dragged back by your feet. At this point you didn’t know what was happening or what was going to happen, but nothing prepared you for what was to come.
You were on your stomach, with your hips tightly between Alex’s knees. You weren’t going anywhere. All you could do was scream and beg while your clothes were being clawed off. His nails leaving red marks on your beautiful ebony skin. This would’ve been traumatizing under any circumstance, but with his little brother just watching it all happen made you want to die.
The feeling of your underwear being pulled down snapped you out of your trance.
“No, no, no! Alex, stop! Please, stop it! Please!”
“It’s too late for that now. I gave you one thing to do. ONE! And you couldn’t do it. So now, I’ll make sure you’re home when I want you to be. Doing what you’re supposed to be doing. Not what you want to do,” he said while unbuckling his belt.
Tears were flowing down the side of your face as you turned your head trying your hardest to look back at him, “Please, don’t”
He let out a light chuckle, “What? Are you worried about our guest? Ohhh, he’s not here for you, Sweetheart. Bill, you mind if I teach my beautifully stupid wife a lesson?” He asked placing a condescending kiss to the side of your clammy, coily clad head.
Bill looked at his brother and then to you, “Not at all. Please proceed.”
“See, don’t worry about him. Worry about me” he said as he forcefully inserted himself into your ass.
You clawed at the carpet beneath you as you let out a silent scream. The pain shot all over your body that you thought you would pass out. Alex gave you no time to adjust before roughly thrusting in and out of your “Special Occasions” area.
You looked Bill directly in his eyes, “Bill, please.”
“You’re almost done, Y/N.”
“No, please. Please. Please. Make him stop,” you pleaded while sobbing at this point.
All you could hear were the sounds of the animal that you called your husband forcing himself on you. It was evident he was close to finishing and he pulled out and inserted himself into your vagina to cum. He pinned your head down on the carpet as you squeezed your eyes shut and let out strangled sobs.
He stayed inside of you for what felt like forever, making sure he was fully done. He got up and pulled up his pants. He kicked your panties over to you, telling you to be more modest in front of company. He and Bill went into the kitchen to make their plates like nothing happened, leaving you in a puddle of tears. H
As you slowly re-clothed your bottom half, you couldn’t help but clutch your chest and curl into a ball. You held your stomach and cried,
“I’m so sorry, Baby.”
A/N: Whew! Okay! How are we feeling? This was my first shot at dark writing and i’m pretty happy with how it came out. I hope the Nonnie who requested it liked it, she said mouse-like.....
Here’s a little piece I wrote for my friend @differentcatcat ❤️ She wrote me a great piece couple of weeks ago and I wanted to create something special for her. I hope you’ll like it honey, enjoy ! ❤️
Pairing: Alexander Skarsgard x Black oc
Summary: Alex's newest controversially young girlfriend, Evie, lives life with her head in the clouds. Not much of a fan of watching movies or keeping up with celebrities, she never cared much about him being an actor. What she likes most about him is that he is kind, down to Earth, mature, and a gentleman.
But, excitement for their future together comes to an immediate halt... Now having to rethink introducing this man to her parents; a date-night to a premiere for his newest movie, Pillion, hits Evie with the shocking revelation of just what kind of actor her boyfriend truly is.
Author's Note: Just something short and kinky in excitement for the US release of Pillion, coming February 6th, 2026!! <3
Warnings: #Dark!Alex #Manipulative!Alex #Dom!Alex
#Sadist!Alex #SUPERKINKY
3k words
Wattpad link
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Tonight, she has seen it all...
Eyes widened and glued to the screen as she watches the man that she has been dating for the last three months pin another man down, kiss his lips a he does hers, and even make love to him! Sure— it's only acting, but the innocent woman who spends most of her time collecting vinyl R&B records, spinning pottery, and crocheting sweaters has seen enough rough sex, leather, collars, and butt plugs than she ever expected to see in her entire life!
Her heart races out of her chest the longer she watches. Now only thirty-minutes left in the film, she can't bear to watch another second more.
She can't stand the confusingly painful pit in her stomach... An ache of concern, disgust, heartache, and maybe even a bit of arousal...
Especially unable to tolerate Alex's blue eyed stare turning towards her during every erotic scene, as if he is attempting to read through her thoughts for her.
"I can't."
The words leave her glossed-quivering lips in one stolen breath. Needing air terribly, Evie drops her popcorn as she takes the emergency exit out of the dark theater.
"Evie! Psss'd! Evie— goddamnit." Calling for her in a tight whisper does Alex no good, he also must get up and excuse himself from stepping on the toes of audience members as he chases after his date and misses the ending half of his latest film.
The darkened night surrounds them, only the alleyway's streetlamp lights the couple as he finally catches up with his distraught girlfriend... just enough light to make the swelling tears in her soft brown eyes glimmer beneath its glow.
"Hey, hey, baby? Wh—What's going on?" A gentle catch around her wrist stops Evie in her path as she is turned to face his worry.
She watches up at nearly six-feet-five-inches of height and aged blue eyes that once captured her that day at a little farmer's market hidden from most of LA.
That day, only a few months ago now where they had met, Alex was so charming and he had been ever since. He carried Evie's heavy potted plants that she had been gawking at for hours to her car— after he of course had purchased the expensive exotic flowers for her out of the pure kindness of his heart.
From there came too many coffee dates to count, walks in the park, and handholding... Romantic and warm, yet never more than maybe a lewd tongue kiss or caress every so often...
The man she thought she knew never cared to rush things and enjoyed simply getting to know her, but the man she watched tonight on the screen was brutal... it overwhelmed her to see such a sexually deviant person who if was acting— had done the role far too well.
"What was that in there?" Finally able to speak, her head continues to shake in disbelief and denial.
"You— You filmed something like that?! I didn't even recognize that man!"
"Well, that's a good thing, baby!" Caressing her bare arms that have grown goosebumps in LA's chilly night, Alex attempts to calm her with a gentle chuckle. "I'm an actor, I was in a role, you weren't supposed to recognize me!"
But his words just aren't good enough...
Trying her hardest to put herself in his shoes, she's determined that no one could actually act like that unless deep down it came to them naturally.
"When you told me you were an actor, I was thinking— I don't know, like Terminator, Titanic, uhm— Back To The Future!!!" Evie frantically names ancient-old movies, practically the only movies that she's ever seen in her twenty-seven years of life. "Not whatever that was?"
He sighs, unsure how to break it to her that half of his career he has spent being naked and having sex on camera... "Evie, my little dove— none of it is real. We have intimacy coordinators on set, we wear prosthetics, and half the time it's our doubles doing most of the work. Come on baby, let's just go back inside.
We finish the movie, take a few pictures for the press, and we can go home."
"No thanks, I'll Uber!"
Her heels begin to pick up in speed again as she is once again grasped by the wrist, this time pulled against the building's bricks and caged between it and Alex's thick body. "Move!" She shouts.
"I won't."
...
Tension begins to calm with his stern refusal. Alex's wide palm cups her heated cheek, his longer fingers wipe away fallen tears that make him ache at the sight.
"Okay sure, some parts can be faked..."
Her voice trembles with tears, "but kissing your costar like that, cannot be."
"Ahww." He teases with fake-pout, "are these tears from seeing these lips kissing someone's other than yours?"
Evie shoves his chest, hardly making the overly-large man move as he chuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He laughs, "Evie, baby, if only you could count how many times I've had to kiss a costar, I think you'd hate me for good...
But, listen, when I kiss on screen, it is simply— a skit. A coordinated, STD tested, flesh on flesh scene until we hear the director yell 'cut'.
But, when I kiss you? These perfect fucking sweet lips of yours... I think I lose years off of my life the way my heart begins to ache. There is no 'action' or 'cut' that could ever make me stop or resist the urge for more of you."
Puckered softly against Evie's mouth, their lips smack against each other in one tender kiss.
Wanting for more— her pride isn't willing to allow it, not after all that her eyes have witnessed.
"So, are you gay?"
The question widens his eyes.
"Bi?"
She continues, "you can tell me these things. I don't want anymore secrets between us."
"Secrets!?"
Suddenly with a toweringly-raised voice, his strength strikes fear in her heart. "I never once kept anything from you! I told you that I was an actor. You live in LA, for Christ sake, you acted like you didn't give a shit about my job!
Look—It's not my fault that you never cared to google me or that the last movie you saw was still on fucking VCR!"
"Wow, fuck you!"
Another abrasive shove to his chest does nothing but make him fume more. "No, fuck you! You're being a child." Pulled back against the wall with a firmer tug frightens Evie even more. Her back against the brick this time, feeling like knives pressing against her soft skin. "Alex! You're scaring me!"
He finds it all too comical. Nearing fifty, he's slept with more women than he can count on one hand long before Evie was out of diapers.
"Am I gay, huh?" He repeats her question, "because of the movie? Why? Because I dominated a submissive man?"
"Don't you get it, Evie?" Alex begins to chuckle, "I dominate the whole fucking world." With dilated pupils, suddenly he has snapped into an arrogant asshole. "But since you can't get it through your head that I am an ACTOR, who has to portray different and unique roles!— Let me remind you of just what I'm attracted to. You." He presses even more forward. With zero space between them and this wall, the step pushes the air from Evie's lungs.
"Want—Needing, you.
Spending three months on Miss Good Girl because you sicken me with your innocence, your soft voice, and your fat fucking ass and titties. I want only you."
She scoffs. "You're sick!"
Evie's fight is even less promising as the squash against him encloses far too tighter. "Move Alexander!
You, this fucked up movie, all of it!
You weren't acting, this role probably came easiest to you!"
"You know what's sick?"
.
.
.
Evie can feel the heat of his breath as his mouth is pressed to the shell of her ear. "—watching the way you squirmed in that seat every time I pinned my costar to the ground, when I pretended to fuck him as if I were to split him in half...
The way you tightened your knees when you watched what you thought was me cumming into his mouth. You wished it were you, huh?
It's only jealousy having you behave like this, isn't it?"
Unable to shove again, a tight bruising grip to both of Evie's wrists has her arms pinned above her head. "You're insane, you know that I'm disgusted!"
"Which is why when I dig beneath your dress right now, I won't have my hand on wet pussy, right?"
"Alex don't!"
Unwilling to listen, a grope inserted between her thick thighs makes her mewl sinfully— hips bucking forward as her body chases after the bed of his fingertips for another feel.
Raised to the light of the streetlamp, Alex's two most-middle fingers come back with the shine of Evie's drenched arousal.
His groan is shuttered as his digits seep onto his tongue's tastebuds, being exactly the deranged satyriasis that he portrays in all of his films.
"You know what's funny about these movies? You're absolutely right, Evie— I enjoy being as lewd and vulgar as I possibly can on screen.
By the end of my career I want to be known as the most over-sexed actor Hollywood has ever seen. Why? Because it's fun. Because I want to make James Spader and Michael fucking Douglas' most erotic films look fucking PG-13!
And yet, regardless of what movie I'm in, what thing I'm pretending to fuck— a woman, a man, a fucking creature for all I care, I never once get hard... Never once stiffen up the way I do to the sound of your pathetic little tears and your attempt at disgust when you're just as goddamn filthy as I am."
...
And with this threatening confession, Evie's lace underwear is torn from her body with a violent snatch— now becoming one with the trash and needles of LA's street-litter.
Confusion bewilders her as a violent craving for his cock makes her legs tremble yet the tears streaming down Evie's face is from complete brokenness.
So naive to what she thought she had with Alex, now she can see through it all clear as day. Pillion, the movie only being a peephole view into Alex's life of kink, when in reality all along she was the full picture.
The way this older gentleman had spoiled her in every way, charmed her with gentle affection, drawing her nearest to him, and how much he loved her lack of interest in his fame... All a ploy to find himself a true submissive. One that hasn't a care to use him for stardom, a woman who will have already fallen far too deeply in love with him to be deterred by his kink and immorality... instead— molded to crave it...
And tonight, through the buzz of car horns and passing feet of strangers who could catch them in such scandal— Evie longs for this obscene dominance as an addict longs for an ounce.
Sandwiched between a brick building and brick of a man, the sound of Alex's zipper makes Evie's thighs open freely as her dress bunches passed her ass. His hands no longer need to hold back the tiny feminine fists that were once being thrown at him, now he grips a dimpling hold beneath her thighs as Evie's hands rush to assist him in positioning his erection.
Further than they've ever gone before, her fingers wrap around the utter hot-girth of Alex's hard cock. The ooze of precum down his shaft is sticky, clearly having been making a mess all evening long— watching her, as she watched him.
Lined at her opening, Evie would be foolish to think that a man so cruel and demanding would begin slowly. A power-drive of a first thrust causes him to bottom out inside of her, pressed against the hilt of her cunt. The sting mutes her soundless opened scream, soon to be filled with his tongue as each blow continues one after the other.
Embarrassed and blushing an angry red down her chocolate skin as she is manhandled, her shoes are fucked off of her dangling feet as each stiletto hits the ground.
No kindness, no respect for her body, Evie is fucked like a slut in an alleyway, making her delirious with a shameful lust.
She had hoped that the prosthetics that he wore in the movie were only an exaggeration of his actual size, but as she is impaled, dug-out, and molded around his angry cock— she realizes he's so much bigger.
Her arms find his neck as she wishes to have control on at least something, at least a place where she is able to bear down upon, but Alex's warm huffing against her face, and twisted praises takes the comfort away from that too. "Can't you hear it? How that pussy talks when it gets a little attention?"
Evie winces, tightening her long, wet, jet-black lashes closed as she tries to ignore the sound of her body's rain and the clapping of his weighty balls beneath against her flesh.
Her whimpering is only motivation to abuse further. Alex pistons upwards, thrashing against her sweet spot until her bitten-lip that was hiding her melodies unleashes her squeaky inaudibles.
Her pussy becomes a vice against him, weakening his stamina as he forces out Evie's orgasm.
"Fuck, bunny, my good little toy. Cream on it."
Her body spasms, gushing her release against him and staining his pants before the press could even take his picture tonight.
Mid-stroke, one of the theaters lets out as credits begin to roll. Alex's hand tightens around Evie's every gasp and moan, moving out of the light and shielded by the darkness of a dumpster as his rhythm never misses a beat.
Her eyes widen as people pass by them far too close for comfort, yet Alex quietly takes the moment to revisit his plans with her.
"Waited for you." His whispers are cooed and pathetic whimpers as he pushes his limits to hold out. "Daddy's getting old and I waited so long for you to come in my life. Gonna take my time with you, love you, keep you, spoil you, breed this perfect—" he struggles to breathe as her band-like grip nearly makes him falter, "perfect goddamn pussy." The words are gritted tightly through his teeth, "you want that, don't you?"
Being split open as her mound swells feverishly hot, Evie's hearing is muffled as her mind travels into a different universe. "Answer." His demand is met with an animalistic tearing-shred to the front of Evie's dress, spilling her tits against him.
"Yes!" She comes from her daze admirably submissive. A compliant little lamb now overflowing from out of her once bratty-attitude. "Whatever you want."
"Mmm'I can't resist you." For a moment, Alex almost sounds genuinely sweet, "I love you."
Splayed around his waist, his thrusts become sloppy as the numb cunt for his taking is getting nothing but wetter and sweeter each second. His glutes tighten with every rough pummel, banging against her cervix and assuring his love is felt even in Evie's spine.
"Oh fuck you feel good, look at me baby."
Evie's eyes meet his.
Bambi-brown, achingly-round, tear stained, with a pouted beauty that drives his sadistic tendencies insane.
Wanting to see her cry, tortured, and berated— but only like this. Just like this.
Only when he can pull a shared climax out of them both. "One more time for me, can't you? If I slow it down like this?"
His cock is pulled back slowly, and pushed back in even more tormentingly slower.
"Mmph!—Alex!"
This unhurried speed spins Evie's world on its axis.
He notices her pleasure, ushering her body higher to catch the sensitive buds of her full breasts in his mouth. His abdomen tightens as hers does the same, both at their peaks of ecstasy— the torture of not falling over the edge is an unforgiving pain, aching their souls as they pant and curse against each other's overstimulated bodies.
The pressure of his calculated last stroke causes Evie to slowly bite down onto his shoulder— body hanging lifelessly like some sort of sexdoll in his arms. The pain of the marks from her teeth mixes with Alex's pleasure like a perfectly stirred cocktail, making his jaw unclench as it falls slack— releasing into Evie with pure ownership, jolting and bucking as his stream of cum begin to trickle down the curve of his emptied sack.
"Ughh—fuck." Half-lidded, the arrogance in him is still very strong. Knowingly defeated by Evie's sex, it is he who still needs the last word.
"Feel that?" He gulps, just as spent and obsessed with her. "Me pumping that seed into you? Making you a little housewife?"
Shame makes it hard to even look at him, yet she still nods... If degrading her by plugging her pussy with softening cock is the way she gets to feel this light and satisfied... then let her stay bred, let her stay submissive, and let her stay forever this dumb and cockdrunk.
Evie winces from the webbed-plop of his exit.
Feeling far too empty now— she nearly whines for more.
Alex catches the oozing inner-decorating he performed on her with his thumb, not wasting a drop of his batter, he can't wait for it to sprout in her fertile womb— watching her plump, housebound, and carrying his offspring after years of searching for the perfect one.
"Good girl. Don't spill any of it..." He quickly begins a threat that tightens an aroused spring in her belly, "and if you push it out, I'll just fill you until you're bloated with my cum. You won't sleep, you won't eat. You'll be doing what? Evie?"
"T—Taking your cum." The rasp and stutter of her exhausted voice brings a chill down his spine. Finally, finally he has broken her.
Proudly he nods, "fucked like a slut, bred like a bitch." His cruelty ends with astrum against her tender clit. Poor Evie can't help but to release a moan. Still aroused after his most wicked words, Alex can't seem to believe the lengths he can finally go with her. "Wow." His chuckle is dark and degrading. "You're a real sick puppy, god—I love it.
Bun, we are going to have so much fun together, hm? Perhaps our love story will even become a movie."
Peter Parker x Reader (Friends). Peter Quill x Reader (FWB).
Warnings: Ahhhh language. Sexual Content. So much pettiness it hurts. Friends with benefits. Female embracing her sexuality so don’t call her a slut. Otherwise a lot of groveling and arguing.
A/N: If you like the ending of Endgame, stay away from this. I don’t want to hear your crying about Steve belonging with Peggy. Just don’t read it, it’s not that hard. Okay? Okay. Also Endgame spoilers.
When you put the world right, yours falls apart.
Steve went back to replace the stones. But lingering questions and feelings keep him in the past. Breaking your heart in the present.
But when Steve returns, mistakes under his belt. Realizing that somethings just don’t work out like you hope. But nothing is the way it was when he left. Life carried on, and more time passed than he thought.
You’re not the same and sorry just doesn’t make it right again. But you have your own issues and coming home only brings them to surface. Can you figure out what you want, or where you stand? Is there anything left between the two of you or there someone else for you?
Wow I was really going through it with this one, huh? I think I listened to Bring Me To Life by Evanescence for the entire two hours it took to write this. I never write this fast-- I'm really going through it LOL! I hope you enjoy lovelies! It's the first Steve fic for Dinner at DIzzy's!
Appetizers (Tags): Angst
Entres (Pairing): Nomad!Steve Rogers x F!Reader (Third Person)
Sides (Prompts): 3: “Apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, and don’t play well with others.”
Notes: This has a ton of swearing, Requested by Anon
Word Count: 1.8k
Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List
“Just because you’re the leader here doesn’t mean you have the right to be an asshole, Steve!” Y/n hisses at the man, fists balled at her side.
She’s not going to swing. She would never swing on him— at least she doesn’t think she would— but right now she’s so damn close. All day he’s been pushing her around, yelling at her for the slightest trip ups. Yelling at all of them. She understands that being fugitives isn’t easy but holy shit can the man chill out for five minutes? She fell asleep in the backseat of the car for five fucking minutes! Certainly that doesn’t warrant the hour tongue lashing she just got. It does, however, warrant her retaliation.
He takes a step towards her, face twisted in a snarl unlike anything she’s ever seen before. “Watch your language!”
She doesn’t back down— she’s not scared of him. “Don’t fucking yell at me then! Stop being a dick!”
She doesn’t feel bad for the insult or the way he flinches, his eyes darkening immensely. She had tried to politely ask him for space thirty minutes ago and he didn’t give her any. If he gets to blow off steam or whatever the fuck he’s doing than so will she.
“I’ll stop being a dick when you get some common sense!”
Steve’s raising his own voice now, getting right in her face, and she only pushes forward, her cheeks filling with heat and her stomach clenching painfully. The audacity of this man is incredible. His usual light eyes are a deep navy color now, almost black from his blown pupils. He looks crazy— she doesn’t doubt that she does as well. She would bet money that she looks insane.
“I fell asleep for five fucking minutes and Sam was right fucking next to me! What the fuck is your problem?” She’s doing it on purpose now— if he doesn’t want her to swear then that’s all she’s going to do.
Maybe it’s the triple F-bomb that has the sound of feet pounding against concrete echoing through their shoddy apartment. Maybe it’s just the yelling in general. Either way it’s a good thing that Natsaha and Sam come sprinting in from the other room of the two room complex because if they hadn’t then she’s sure her fist would be cracking against the jaw of Captain Douchebag right now.
“Woah, woah, woah— what the hell’s going on in here?” Sam is quick to get in the middle of them, pushing the super soldier to one end of the room while Nat yanks on y/n’s hoodie. “We could hear you idiots from the stairwell.”
Y/n struggles against Nat for a moment, vision tinted red at the edges. From across the room Steve glares at her, seething. She can practically feel the hatred pouring off of him. It stings at her chest, biting into her veins. He would have kept yelling at her if they hadn’t stopped him, she just knows it. She wishes he would so she could scream back— her stomach and muscles are still tight and she’s aching to lay into him some more. She barely even started and now she feels like she’s about to bubble over.
“Seriously—” Nat tugs again and y/n stops fighting, opting instead to glower at the blonde from across the room— “What’s gotten into you two? You’re supposed to be the responsible ones!”
Steve tears his arm from Sam’s hold but doesn’t clear the space between them. “Why don’t you ask y/n—” he tilts his head, sneering again— “What was it you said ten minutes ago? Oh yeah— apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, and don’t play well with others.”
Why that little fucking— “Don’t put fucking words in my mouth!”
She storms past Natasha, dodging her arm as it flies out— you’re not the only trained markswoman here Nat. Steve does the same, bowling past Sam easily to meet her in the middle of the room.
“Why not? It’s what you meant right?” He’s in her face again, breath hot on her face, and she only retaliates by fuming right back.
She feels like a dragon facing down her enemy— she’s ready to burn the entire building down if it means lowering him a peg or five.
“Actually it wasn’t but now it is you narcissistic dick.”
She can feel Natasha start to pull on her hoodie again but she’s not done— not now. Not when she’s just gotten started.
“You just can’t handle hearing the truth y/n— you can’t handle it when I tell you what you did was wrong. That you could have gotten us fucking killed with your ignorance—”
Her veins flood with fire, her lips curling into a painful scowl. In that moment everything turns slow, her heartbeat a dull thump, thump, thump in her ears, drowning out the rest of his sentence. The only thing that gives away that he’s still speaking is his mouth moving, his teeth bared and ready to be knocked out.
Oh so she’s ignorant now is she? Yeah well fuck you Rogers!
This time the only thing that stops her fist from slamming into Steve’s jaw is Sam catching it mid air, her knuckles slapping off his palm and bringing the sounds in the room rushing back to her at full force. She stumbles back with the impact but the soldier catches her, steadying her on her feet with a worried look in his soft brown eyes. It feels like she’s been underwater for days, her ears popping painfully as she gasps for breath.
“—s enough Steve!” When y/n blinks Nat is shoving her palm against the super soldier’s chest. “You need to back the hell off!”
She doesn’t realize until her eyelashes stick to her cheeks that they’re wet. That she’s crying. The sobs catch up to her when it registers, wracking through her with a force strong enough to have her whole body shaking. Sam is the first to notice, reaching out for her but she backs away, shaking her head. The room falls silent, three pairs of eyes now trained on her but she’s only looking at one pair of wide blue ones. Steve’s chest is heaving up and down, a cross between a feral and a confused look slathered across his features.
The look ignites the last of the dying spark inside her, her hand landing against her chest, wrapping around the dog tags hanging off her neck and yanking until she hears a snap. She waits for the chain to pool in her hands before she whips the metal across the room, hitting him square in the chest with a roar that’s more animal than human tearing from her throat— you wanted flames and now you’re going to get them.
“I’m ignorant? Me? Did you ever stop to ask yourself why the fuck I fell asleep today?” She slips her hands into her hair, tugging so hard on the roots that her scalp feels like it’s burning. “How about because last night you came back from scouting three hours late and looking like you got mauled by a fucking bear? And I asked you what happened and you wouldn't tell me a goddamn thing! You— Mister fucking super serum whatever the fuck! You just went to bed and I spent the rest of the night listening to you gasp for air! Not knowing if the shit was even working or if I was going to wake up to you gone! I—”
Her voice cracks and she curses, scraping her wrist across her face to wipe away some of the hot tears pooling down her cheeks. They feel like trails of lava melting her skin as they rush over her jaw and drip onto the floor. Steve’s face has morphed completely during the span of her rant, his mouth falling open, lips no longer busted open like they had been last night but still horrifying to look at right now. She knows he wants to say something— maybe he even wants to apologize— but there’s no fucking way she’s letting him. She’s not finished yet.
“I spent all night wondering if I was going to lose you! That I would wake up and have nothing! You’re my everything and I thought you were going to die and you wouldn’t tell me anything. So yeah, I guess I’m ignorant! Fuck you too.”
Her throat is raw by the time she’s done spitting the words at him, her head fuzzy from a lack of oxygen and her waning rage. It’s giving way too quickly to sadness— to the agonizing kind of heartbreak that has all her organs seemingly shutting down. Her face is sticky and itchy and she needs to get away from him right now.
She turns to meet the stunned faces of Sam and Nat, swallowing hard and wincing at the way her esophagus stings. She’s not going to have a voice at all tomorrow— or for the next week at this rate. Sam’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head from how wide they are, his mouth open but— like Steve— no words are coming out. She flicks her eyes to Nat who, thankfully, springs into action, nodding her head to the door, the question clear in her eyes— want to get the fuck out of here? Y/n doesn’t answer, she just starts walking.
It’s in that moment that Steve snaps out of his stupor, racing to catch her at the door, warm hand curling gently around her wrist. She doesn’t even give herself a second to enjoy it— to fall into his touch and forget the agony in her chest— before she’s ripping her arm away from him, cradling it against her chest and backing away from him.
“Baby I—” His face is tight, his light brows creasing the middle of his forehead.
She can see it— the regret. It carves across his face, tugging his lips into a frown and making his eyes glass over. Her chest squeezes at the sight, her own eyes coating with a fresh sheen of tears. She wants to wrap her arms around him— to tell him that she forgives him and that she loves him and that she’s scared— but he did this not her and before she knows it she’s taking another step back, shoulder bumping into Nat’s as she shakes her head.
“I’m sleeping with Nat tonight. I’ll talk to you in the morning. Night, Steve.”
Steve’s face falls, the first of his tears pooling down his now angelic face, and as she hesitates. Maybe she should— she feels a tug on her hand, glancing down to where Natasha’s slender fingers wrap around her forearm. She doesn’t have the strength to fight her comrade as she pulls her past the door frame.
As the super soldier falls from her line of sight all she can hear is Sam’s exhausted voice—
Summary: Three times Steve was a good boyfriend and one when he wasn’t.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: swearing, Steve being an asshole, fluff, angst
Masterlist | Prompt List | buy me a kofi
“Baby, hurry up!” you exclaimed as you dragged your boyfriend’s hand along the busy streets of the farmer’s market as he begrudgingly followed along. It was a sunny day today and you managed to convince Steve to come along with you to the local farmer’s market to buy fresh produce for the compound. He knew you loved roaming around the streets, visiting all the possible stands you could go to, but this was the first time he got to see it in person. Being the leader of a group of crime-fighting, alien-killing, apocalypse-stopping superheroes had its perks, but it also meant not getting to spend time with you as much as he wanted to.
You barely got out of the compound yourself. Being part of the said group of superheroes yourself, the most time you spend outside the compound was on missions with Steve and the rest of the team. And all of those times spent on missions, you treated Steve as your captain rather than your boyfriend so it was times like this wherein your hand is tightly wrapped around Steve’s as you lead him through the food-filled roads are what the two of you treasure the most.
Summary: Y/N comes home early from her work trip, just to find Steve cheating with another woman
TW: Angst, cussing, cheating
Wordcount: 1.8k
“Are you sure you don’t want me to tell Mr. Stark or Mr. Rogers that you’re coming home early?” Happy asked as he glanced at the woman beside him before focusing back on the road. “No, I want this to be surprise.” Y/N answered with a smile as she watched the passing cars, admiring the beauty of the sunset that was happening. “Can we stop downtown real quick? I need to get some stuff.” Y/N asked as she turned to Happy, who only nodded.
Together they walked inside a flower shop, Y/N immediately grabbing the bouquet Steve would like the most. It was always the same and he always said those were his favorites, not really for their looks but for their meaning. Red camellias, which roughly meant “You’re the flame in my heart”, scorpion grasses which were also known as Forget-Me-Not and were a sign for true love and Gloxinia which were for love at first sight. She smiled at the unusual flowers in the bouquet, but it fitted Steve perfectly. Also, she adored his curiosity for flowers, it was just adorable when he stumbled upon a book called Language of Flowers by Kate Greenaway and was immediately fascinated. “Do you need to go somewhere else, Y/N?” Happy asked as the exited the flower shop, Happy being the gentleman he is taking the bouquet for her. “Yes, we need to go the bakery a few streets down, then we can head home.” She smiled, almost starting to skip down the street out of excitement. She couldn’t wait to come home to Steve, even though she was only gone for roughly 5 days. Even after a 4-year relationship she still felt the same aching for him when they were separated for even a day.
“Let’s head home.” Y/N sighed with a smile as she took a seat in the passenger seat, smiling at Happy who got behind the wheel, starting up the car. “Mr. Rogers is a lucky man.” Happy smiled as he drove through the overflowing streets of New York City. “Is that so?” Y/N replied with a smile, admiring the lights of the city. They were beautiful, but often it was just too overwhelming for her to be in the city for so long, especially with Steve. Way too many people, especially when they came up to her and screamed about her boyfriend. When she was outside the compound with Steve, she was nothing more than a photographer and at times, it got exhausting. “Yes, men appreciate when their girlfriends do little things like that, even though it might not seem like it.” Happy smiled, he was genuine. Happy and Y/N were something like best friends after him being forced to pick her up from one of the busiest airports of NYC and then having to drive her through NYC to get to the compound whenever she had a work trip. They had some time to befriend each other.
“Welcome home, Y/N.” Happy smiled as he got out her suitcase, before getting back into the car. “Thank you for picking me up, Happy.” She smiled as she waved him goodbye as he drove off the property. With a sigh she looked at the huge building in front of her. She missed this, she missed Steve and her friends. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she entered the building. “Should I alert Mr. Rogers that you came home?” Y/N flinched as Friday started talking as soon as she opened the door. “That won’t be necessary, thank you Friday.” She said as she left her suitcase in the hallway, making her way over to the living area. “Guess who is back!” Y/N grinned as she entered the living room, making everyone turn to her. “Oh hey, Y/N.” Sam said with much less enthusiasm as he stood up, rushing over to her and hugging her. “Hey.” She chuckled, her face filled with confusion as she watched Sam, he seemed weird. Very weird. He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other, his fingers nervously playing with each other. “Are you good?” She asked, concerned. “I’m fine.” He laughed nervously. “Can I go through?” “Why don’t you eat first?” Sam chuckled nervously as he put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to the kitchen but Y/N was quick enough to get out of his grip. “You’re acting weird, Wilson.” She stated, now getting suspicious. “Did something happen?” “No, no!” He said quickly. “Okay.” She answered, her eyebrows furrowed as she made her way over to the hallway, just to be stopped by Bucky in the doorway. “Hey, you didn’t say hi to me.” He said, his voice monotone. It was unusual for him too, Y/N and Bucky were always on a joking base, so now he was acting strange too. “Hey Buck, can I go see my boyfriend now?” Y/N was getting impatient and the way they were acting made her suspicious. “Why don’t you eat first?” He said with a small smile, that was obviously fake, and Y/N could see in his eyes that something was up. “I can eat after I say hi to Steve.” She said, her voice getting serious. This wasn’t funny anymore, this just made her angry and he anxiety skyrocket. “But—” “Get the fuck out of my way Barnes, I’m being serious.” She said, her voice cold as she saw him gulp, his eyes looking over to Sam. Before Bucky could do anything else, Y/N ducked under his arm quickly, walking over to the room that Steve and Y/N shared. Sam was quick to run after her. “Y/N don’t go in there—”
As soon as she opened that door, she wished she had listened to Sam. Her mouth was agape and the things in her hands falling to the ground as her eyes started to mist, the pain that was erupting in her chest unbearable. There was Steve. Fucking Sharon. In their bed. “Please tell me you aren’t fucking serious.” She said, her voice low as she tried to progress what was going on as Sharon shrieked and Steve turned, immediately jumping off of her, one of their duvets held around his hips. “Y/N, this is not what—” Y/N held up her finger, making Steve shut up instantly as she entered the room, the smell of sex still hanging in the air and making her nauseous. “With Sharon? With fucking Sharon?” Y/N laughed in disbelief as her eyes went over to the woman that frantically tried to put her clothes on to escape this situation as fast as possible. “I—” Steve couldn’t form a sentence. “In my defense—” “Shut the fuck up Sharon and get the fuck out of here before I snap your neck like a twig.” Y/N’s voice was calm, collected and low, giving everyone goosebumps. Y/N was an emotional person, so her going emotionless was dangerous for everyone involved. Sharon didn’t have to hear that twice, hurrying past Y/N and it took all her strength to not throw hands. “Y/N, listen I can explain okay, please just let me explain—Y/N?” His eyes followed Y/N moves. He had expected her to go Berserk, to throw things at him, to hit him, to curse him out. What he didn’t expect was her all quiet, walking over to her closet while getting the duffel bag off the closet. “Please don’t leave, we can talk about this.” Steve begged as he followed her. In silence Y/n started packing her bag, trying to keep her tears at bay. She would let him suffer in silence. Silence was sharper than any word she could say and both of them knew it.
“You guys knew about this too and didn’t tell me?” She cut the frantic rambling of Steve as she turned to Sam and Bucky, and the other Avengers that had gathered in and outside the room. Sam and Bucky’s eyes were filled with shame as their eyes roamed the floor. The only problem was that they weren’t the only ones. “You too?” She asked, laughing in disbelief as she looked at Tony, Bruce, Pepper and Clint. “Anyone here who didn’t know?” She said with a smile, trying to keep herself from ripping each and everyone here in shreds. The only ones that didn’t know were Thor, Wanda, Nat and Vision. “Alright, I see.” She grinded her teeth together as she closed the duffel back. “Y/N,” Y/N turned to Steve, raising her eyebrows. “I’m sorry.” And again Y/N laughed as she threw the bag over her shoulders. “I’ll let you calm down and I’ll call you—” Before Steve could say anything else, Y/N took her phone throwing it full force against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces and making everyone in the room flinch before her eyes wandered to Steve. “Don’t bother.” Her voice was cold, way too cold and Steve absolutely hated it. He knew he fucked up, he fucked up badly. He wanted her to yell, to be angry, to hit him but the silence she gave him, the ignorance that was what broke him.
Y/N got into her car, her hands trembling. Luckily, she left her suitcase in the hallways, else she would’ve had to go back and that would’ve made her lose it. Her breathing was heavy as she started the car, however the knocking against her window made her head turn. “What?” She said, her voice trembling as she rolled down the window, looking at Nat. “I have an apartment downtown, you can stay there if you want.” Nat said as she gave Y/N the keys and she only nodded, before she pressed down on the gas pedal, driving out of the garage with the loudest screech that painfully echoed in her ears.
When she finally made it to Nat’s apartment, she crumbled. The pain in her chest worsening as she closed the door behind her, dropping to the ground as painful sobs escaped her mouth, tears streaming down her face. Y/N loved Steve, she loved him more than anything else. However, he fucked up, he decided that this was the way he wanted it to go. He never seemed like the man that could do this to anyone, but not only did she lose Steve today, but also 6 friends of hers. And, god, it stung like a bitch.
Now she couldn’t do anything else than comfort herself, sitting in front of the door, her arms wrapped around her legs, her head resting on top of her knees as her whole body was shook by sobs. She was in actual physical pain. But she knew she couldn’t go back, once a cheater, always a cheater. She’d only get hurt again, sooner or later. This was it. This was the end of their chapter, not even ten minutes and everything fell apart. Not even ten minutes.
prompt; you and steve have been friends for a long time, playing a game of cat and mouse with both of your feelings. will it take a war for him to truly admit his feelings? or will it take him 100 years to figure out you were his from the start?
warnings; this is really shitty im sorry, also i switch p.o.v’s a lot. i couldnt decide between ‘you’ and ‘she’, bAd, this is slow burn
word count; 2259
a/n; posting this on steves bday! (jk its like 1:38 am july 5th but it was written on his bday) ps been forever since i updated this and im SO close to finishig my Lucien fic!!! EEP!!!!
News spread like the black plague in December of 1940. The US had entered the war. The streets grew quiet save for the foolish young boys who would whoop and holler at the prospect of heading into the face of the enemy. In reality, they would be heading into the face of death. But Y/N decided not to think about that. Instead she worried for her friends.
Steve.
Four years ago his mother died. SInce that night, things changed between them. Things were quieter. Steve openly admitted his feelings for Y/N about four months after his mother’s passing, Y/N sadly told him that while she felt the same, didn’t want to ruin their friendship and Bucky… Bucky was Bucky.
But different.
He did go back to his womanizing ways but nonetheless, he was different around Y/N. Especially in the moments they were alone. A silence that could be cut with a hot knife. Y/N told Steve about their kiss once but said nothing happened after that. Steve never mentioned it to Bucky.
Steve knew how to pick his fights with those closest to him and since he had got the girl in a way, it didn’t matter to him. The only thing that did was that they were still friends.
And they were.
Adjusting to life without Sarah was hard for everyone. Y/N missed her soft smile, Bucky missed her sweet greetings, their parents missed Christmases together and Steve just missed her in general. As any son would miss a mother who died too soon.
But nonetheless, he moved on. He still attended school. He took art classes and Bucky attended the same school and occasionally the same class.
Y/N and her two closest friends spent Saturday evenings going out and sometimes staying in. Bucky began going out without them and when December rolled in and Steve and Bucky heard of the US joining in, Bucky had some news to share.
It was an early mid December morning when four knocks sounded on Y/N’s door. She, with hesitation, got up and answered seeing as no one else would be doing it for her. (Her mother worked an extra job on the weekends).
“Bucky.” She answered, surprised. “Hey, doll.” He smirked and Y/N rolled her eyes. Once, she would have thought he was serious. But now that Bucky knew Y/N had feelings for Steve and vice versa, she didn’t bat an eye at his phrases. Bucky knew about their mutual emotions, but didn’t know nor understand their situation. And with the past four years gone out the window, he thought it was time for his friends to find some real company. If ruining friendship was a problem, Bucky would set them up to where it wouldn’t be an issue.
“Not that I don’t adore your company, but why are you here?” She asked. The trio hadn’t set any plans for that day.
“Well, as you have probably heard,” He began, taking a step across the threshold. Y/N let him inside and shut the door behind him. “The war is here. And as a celebration, I was thinking about taking you and Steve and a few other friends out tonight.” Bucky told Y/N. She rolled her eyes sarcastically. “You have other friends?” She teased.
“You must think I’m some bum, huh?” Bucky asked with his signature smug look. “Whatever, Buck.” Y/N joked and he smiled. “You’re not denying!”
“Who is it?” She laughed out, pretending to be tired about their play bickering. “Who is who?” He sighed with a loving smirk, sitting on her couch. “The others we’re going with?” She told him, sitting next to him, propping her feet across his legs.
“Oh, um,” Bucky grew quiet at this and Y/N felt a disapproving feeling growing in her mind. “Doris and her friend and her brother.” He admitted. “First of all, Doris?” Y/N asked with her voice absolutely coated in disapproval. “Second of all, why a friend and why her brother?” Y/N asked, suspicion in her deep tone. She sat down on her couch and had resumed absentmindedly flipping through a magazine.
Bucky sat across from her on one of two walnut armchairs. Y/N’s grandmother had bought them and brought them back on a trip from France and had given them to her mother as a gift for Y/N’s birth. They creaked under Bucky’s form.
“Look, you may be pissed at me for this but you have been pissed at me for countless other things.” His intro was less than favorable in Y/N’s ears, but she let him continue. “Doris is bringing her friend for Steve and brother for you. As a date.” You stood up in anger. “You– what?” She asked and Bucky stood as well, towering over her.
“It’s been years Y/N! He hasn’t made a single move to put a serious label on you two. Don’t you think that’s a little insane?” He raises his voice and she scoffs, turning away from him. His fingers grip her wrist and she swivels to glare at him.
They stare at each other a moment before Bucky explains himself further. “You and I know that while Steve is a great guy, he refuses to do anything and while you may not think so, I know that you deserve better.” She looked away from his swimming blue eyes. Y/N knew that any girl in Brooklyn would kill to have Bucky look at them that way. But she knew it meant more directed at her. He was her best friend and meant the words he said to her.
“Maybe while we’re there he might finally say something.” She tried to give herself excuses and Bucky huffed and turned around, letting her arm go. “Just go.” He pleaded, turning back to see her, messing with her hands. “Fine.” Bucky’s face lit up with wonder. “But,” she pointed a finger at him. “I won’t enjoy it.”
The park was crowded. More so than usual. People whispered in excitement as they walked from ride to ride and many whispers were of one of two things. One, the war. You glanced among your friends, catching Steve’s eye. You knew how he felt about it all. He wanted so desperately to join the effort. But alas, was rejected. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why.
He was scrawny. Short. Had many medical problems. Not to mention he couldn’t run fifteen feet without needing his inhaler.
Or, the other topic, the Stark presentation that was going on soon. There was rumors Mr. Stark had learned how to make futuristic cars that would levitate instead of travel on the ground. You thought it was too good to be true but according to posters and the hype of the event, he may have out-Stark-ed himself this time.
Sighing, you fell back into step with Bucky, Doris, Doris’ brother Daniel, Doris’ friend Bonnie and Steve. Daniel was nice. He looked like Doris but was taller and had a bigger build. He had deep brown hair and hazel eyes and was at least a head taller than you. Bonnie, on the other hand, was fair and had light hair, blonde, with stunning green eyes. She was beautiful. An angel.
Steve would love her.
Bucky seemed to definitely be enjoying himself. One arm slung around Doris she laughed, giggled and twirled her hair around her finger. You wanted to throw up on how girly she was acting in front of your friend. And more so on how much he was buying into it.
Steve was distracted, though. Poor girl. All he cared about was the patriotic decorations and the Uncle Sam posters plastered everywhere. She was distracted by the rides, however. Finally your gaze landed on the shoes of Daniel. He was all smiles. Hands in his pockets just strolling along side you all.
“Aren’t you bored? I’m not even paying attention to you.” You asked, feeling slightly guilty. He looked at you and smiled. “I’m just glad im here. It’s alright if we don’t talk. I mean, we can talk if you want but I don’t want you to feel forced to open up or say anything around me.” He told you and you nodded. This man was very sweet, very considerate.
You glanced at Steve. You knew you only had eyes for him and suddenly felt very bad for Daniel. “Thank you.” Was all you said to him as you all came up to the presentation area. It was already crowded and showgirls already lined the stage, about to perform. You looked at Steve who was looking guiltily at his shoes as he scooted closer to Bonnie.
In his mind, he knew he didn’t want to be with Bonnie. He wanted to be with you. But he had been a coward to ruin what the two of you had all this time it was too late. And now he’s working on joining the war and so now, he could get killed in battle. He didn’t want to be with you and then risk his life. He couldn’t do that to you.
Looking at him now, you knew you should try to move on, you leaned closer into Daniel’s touch. It was foreign but you would try to enjoy it.
The Stark’s presentation was interesting. He had invented floating cars, however, it only stayed in the air for a matter of a half of a minute.
When it was over, Doris and Bonnie
wanted to go dancing but by the way Doris occupied Bucky’s left arm while Bonnie, his right, Y/N could tell Bonnie had no interest in dancing with her proper date.
Daniel looked expectantly to Y/N as the suggestion was brought to light and you felt a pit grow in your stomach. Y/Nloved dancing. Adored it. But she looked at Daniel and didn’t see who she wanted to partner with. She liked how Steve was just tall enough to be around her height, a little shorter but still, making dancing comfortable.
Y/N glanced around, noticing Steve wasn’t around. Bucky seemed to notice in that moment as well as he dropped the girls’ arms.
“We’ll have to get back to you on that.” Bucky muttered the girls an apology and you too, dropped Daniel’s arm. They began to complain. You blatantly rolled your eyes, ignoring Bucky’s panic. He wanted you to make a good impression and you were showing them attitude.
“Look. Not that you,” You looked at Bonnie. “Noticed because you were too busy drooling over my best friend, or that any of you did for that matter but my other best friend is missing to God knows where and probably has two black eyes by now, knowing him, so we are gonna go find him. If you,”
This time you looked to Daniel. “Have a problem with that then there was no chance this could ever happen anyway and trust me chances were already low. And if you two have a problem I will have no issue with making sure Bucky never sees either of you again. Now let’s go.” You finished your annoyance fueled speech and proceeded to grab Bucky by the arm and pulled him away.
Once a far enough distance from your group you began to really search. “You didn’t have to say all that back there.” Bucky muttered as he stood on his toes, scanning the crowd, sometimes some nooks and crannies for signs of a fight.
“Yes, I did. I would have said the same for you. But you know how I feel about Steve so I meant it just a little bit more.” You smirked at Bucky who half heartedly smiled. You didn’t have time to say much more as you found a building that also held a clinic for young men to sign up for the draft.
You rolled your eyes as the signs practically would draw Steve in like a moth to light. You nudged Bucky’s elbow, pointed to the building.
Steve was standing in front of a reflective mirror. It was dark but whoever stood on a pedestal could see their face on the head of a soldier. You could only see Steve’s eyes and a little bit of his nose. You couldn’t stand to see him at the moment but Bucky approached him and spoke with him for a long while.
You couldn’t keep up and in the meantime you had struck up a conversation with a German man who was nice. He inquired if you were friends with Bucky and Steve and you had said yes, saying you had been friends for a long while.
You both fell into comfortable conversation while Bucky and Steve chatted and soon after Bucky came up to you, drawing you away from the man.
“Steve isn’t coming but he’ll be alright.” He told you and you looked to Steve who had been gazing at you but now averted his eyes.
“He said we can hangout at your apartment tomorrow. Just the three of us. For a proper hangout. Just in time for me to leave.” You had forgotten Bucky had been drafted. “Right.” You muttered allowing him to lead you away, waving goodbye to the German man, Doctor as you learned, and to Steve.
Maybe Steve would never make his move. Maybe it would take a little push. Maybe it would take the life threatening chance to win a war. You would know soon enough.
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