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halloween is the perfect time for tricks—and treats

pairing: soft!dark friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: steve rogers is tired of being stuck in the friendzone and when he overhears you planning to pick up a one night stand at your mutual friend's halloween party, he decides to play a little trick on you—one where you'll both be getting a treat.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dubcon (because steve's wearing a mask), piv sex, unprotected sex, pervy behavior (both steve and reader are huge pervs tbh), BDSM themes, masturbation (m), dirty dancing/dry humping, ass play, fingering (f receiving, vaginal and anal), finger sucking, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, filming/recording/taking photos during sex, exhibitionism, breeding kink, super possessive behavior, talk of branding, talk of being friendzoned (even tho the friendzone is not fucking real), hair-pulling, aftercare, pet names (angel) — let me know if i missed something!!

word count: 19.4k

a/n: i think this remains the longest one shot i've written, even a year later, which is kind of wild!! this one really did get away from me. but man oh man does it have everything i love, most especially golden boy steve rogers who's actually, secretly, a filthy perv. god this might be one of my most favorite steve fics i've written. so i hope y'all enjoy it too!! ♡ (also again the friendzone is bullshit and not real and don't ever let a man tell you otherwise!!!)

halloween fics masterlist

-

“God, I need to get fucked,” you groaned in a hushed voice in the living room of your friend’s apartment. The quiet that followed indicated you were talking on the phone, the soft tinny sound of someone else speaking reaching even to the hallway.

At your words, the apartment’s owner, Steve Rogers, paused just out of sight in the hallway, shamelessly listening in on your conversation, his dick twitching in his pants at the desperate need in your voice. He’d been friends with you for a couple years and, almost the entire time, he’d been trying to figure out how to make a move on you without being creepy.

Steve liked you—a lot. He liked spending time with you, he liked listening to you laugh and he liked how you seemed to feel safe with him. But he wanted more, and the things he wanted to do to you…He thought you’d shy away if he said any of them out loud in your presence. The problem was, he couldn’t tell if you liked him the way he liked you, or if you thought of him as just a friend. You’d never told him you didn’t have feelings for him, but you’d never hinted at wanting more either. And you’d dated other guys, but you’d never dated him.

No, Steve thought, you just tortured him and played innocent. You cuddled up to him on his couch, acting all innocent as you pressed your tits into his side and rested your head on his chest while you watched movies together. You’d ask him to spoon you sometimes, your soft ass pressing against his lap, just laying there while Steve’s cock would get hard for you. He’d lay there until you fell asleep, your sweet breaths puffing out against his bicep, then shove his hand in his pants and tug on his cock, thinking about slipping his fingers between your legs to find you wet and willing for him. He’d imagine fucking you in your sleep, sliding into your warm, wet hole and filling you up with his cock. Sometimes he’d picture coming deep inside your pussy without you waking up, claiming you while you were none the wiser, and other times he’d imagine you waking up and the look on your face when you realized your friend was fucking you. He’d come in his boxers like a fucking teenager with you sleeping in his arms completely unaware.

Steve’s friends had tried to help him get out of the friendzone—Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson had plenty of suggestions for how to see if you’d ever think of Steve as more than just a friend. But Steve knew he had to play his hand exactly right or he’d risk coming off like a creep, and girls like you didn’t date creeps. So he’d bided his time, he’d kept his need on a tight leash, taking what he could get when what he really wanted was to pound into you with his cock. But he was getting frustrated and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold himself back, not when he knew you were lounging on his couch talking about how much you needed to get fucked.

“I mean, Steve’s hot as fuck and all…” you trailed off in the other room and Steve perked up at the sound of his name.

Sure, you’d complimented him before. When he’d taken you as his date to his boss’s wedding, you’d told him how handsome he’d looked in a suit while you smoothed your hands over his chest. It had taken all his self control not to yank you against him so you could feel how hard you made him from just those small touches. Instead, he’d thanked you politely and offered his arm, like the gentleman he’d convinced you he was.

But, Steve realized, you’d never called him hot before. He’d never known you thought about him like that and pride bloomed in his chest at the compliment. At the same time, something warned him he wasn’t going to like how you finished your sentence. He was right.

“I just—I don’t know if he can really fuck me, y’know?” you muttered into your phone, clearly trying to keep your voice down so he wouldn’t hear. He was meant to be grabbing some snacks for your movie night, and they shook in Steve’s hand as he got more and more irritated by your words. “He’s a gentleman, he doesn’t exactly give off ‘I’ll fuck you like a slut’ energy.”

Frustration blinded Steve’s vision for a moment. That was why you’d never given him a chance? You thought he couldn’t fuck you properly? You thought he was too much of a gentleman to treat you like a slut? He’d never known about this side of you. Even with how close you’d become as friends, you’d kept it carefully hidden from Steve. And he’d kept his own dark desires hidden as well, too worried they’d scare you off before he had a chance to show you how good you could be together. But you were just as depraved as he was.

Frustration morphed into relief and then elation. If you wanted to be treated like a filthy slut, Steve thought, then he’d show you exactly what he was capable of. Having made up his mind to prove you wrong, he almost stormed into the living room and ripped the phone from your hands to bend you over and fuck you into the couch, but your next words stopped him.

“Sam’s Halloween party it is, then,” you said, finality in your voice like you’d come to a decision. Steve already knew it didn’t have anything to do with him. You’d written him off as an unacceptable partner, but he’d show you how wrong you were, making a decision of his own. “Yeah I’ll send you pics of my costume—it’s so slutty, it’ll be perfect.” You giggled, the sound shooting straight to Steve’s cock.

He gripped his hardening dick through his pants, stroking himself idly to the sound of your voice while a plan formed in his head. It hadn’t taken him long to piece together your idea to pick up some guy at Sam’s Halloween party, and Steve decided he could use that to his advantage. Besides, he wanted to see exactly how slutty your Halloween costume was—and he wanted to see just how much of a pathetic, needy little slut you could be under the right circumstances. Steve let go of his dick, using his hand to get his phone out and order the perfect mask for his plan.

After all, what kind of friend would he be if he let you fuck some random guy? You could pick up someone who was dangerous, who didn’t respect your boundaries—or worse, someone who couldn’t satisfy you. Steve knew he could satisfy you, he reasoned, slipping his phone back in his pocket and returning his hand to his dick. He jerked his cock harder in the hallway outside his living room, listening to you laugh on the other side of the wall.

Really, he thought, it was his responsibility as your friend to make sure you were safe, to make sure you were fucked by someone you could trust. Who could you trust better than your good friend Steve Rogers? He stroked his cock harder to the sound of your voice, imagining you on your knees and staring up at him with your eyes wide while you sucked his length into your throat. He came to the thought of coating your pretty face with his come, your giggles echoing in his ears as he spilled himself inside his jeans.

As he turned away and silently padded back down the hallway, heading toward his room to change, Steve only grew more confident in his plan. He knew he could satisfy the filthy little slut in you and then, if you let him, he’d finally have an answer to how you felt about him. So what if he had to trick you into it? It was Halloween, the perfect time for tricks—and treats.

-~-~-

You walked into Sam Wilson’s wild Halloween party on a mission, determination in your strut and conviction in the tilt of your chin. Ever since telling your best friends Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop about your need to get fucked and all three of you deciding Sam’s Halloween party was the best place to find a guy to satisfy you, it was all you could think about.

After talking to them on the phone while you were at your friend Steve Rogers’ place for a movie night—and waiting for him to come back with snacks, which took forever—you were worried you’d leave a wet spot on his couch from thinking about being bent over and railed in the woods behind Sam’s house. You didn’t, thankfully, since you weren’t sure how Steve would’ve reacted. He was such a polite gentleman, he probably would’ve pretended he didn’t see it. You couldn’t imagine your blond-haired and blue-eyed golden boy of a friend shoving your face in the wet spot and fucking you hard enough to hurt as punishment for getting his couch messy.

Well, you could imagine it, and the thought made you wet as fuck, but the problem was you didn’t think he’d ever actually do it. And that was exactly why you weren’t looking to your best guy friend to satisfy your need to get fucked. Steve seemed like he would be a little too vanilla in bed for your tastes and you didn’t have the energy to spend weeks and months introducing him to what you liked, what you needed. Better to find some random guy who’d fuck you filthy and then fuck off in the morning.

Pushing aside thoughts of Steve and how you wished he was just as wickedly depraved as you, you refocused on Sam’s Halloween party. Your eyes scanned what you could see of the first floor of the house from just inside the front door, looking for someone to catch your eye. The foyer opened up into a large living room where all the furniture had been pushed against the walls, making room for a DJ table blasting loud music and a big dance floor that was already crowded with people dressed in all kinds of costumes.

There were some fun creative ones, playing on the year’s biggest memes, then there were the guys who put in barely any effort, dressing like a lumberjack or just getting a mask from a Halloween store. And, of course, there were plenty of girls dressed in all manner of slutty costumes. Not that you were judging anyone for dressing slutty—your costume was literally lingerie.

You wore a little white silk cami dress you’d found in the lingerie section of an online shop, the neckline dipped low and the bottom hem barely covered your ass. To turn it into an angel costume, you’d paired it with white patent leather mary jane heels, some small fluffy white wings strapped to your shoulders and a headband lifting a feathery halo above your head. Both Yelena and Kate had wolf-whistled when you’d finished getting ready, assuring you it would be easy to pick up a guy at Sam’s party.

Before you’d found anyone in the living room that you thought might do the trick, Yelena and Kate each looped an arm through yours and led you down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. It was crowded, but not nearly as bad as the living room. You and your friends made a beeline for the host, who was dressed like a king—complete with crown and scepter—and holding court like one in front of a group of girls dressed like slutty nurses and sailors.

Sam greeted you and your friends warmly, kissing each of you on the cheek as he hugged you. After you’d hugged Sam, you turned to Bucky—taking a short moment to appreciate the way he filled out his army costume—hugging and kissing him on the cheek as well.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, half-shouting in Bucky’s ear to be heard over the thumping music in the living room. You had to brace a hand on his shoulder, going up on tiptoes to make sure he heard you.

Bucky smirked as you leaned in close, giving him a perfect view down your dress, and he wasn’t above sneaking a peek. “He’s running a little late, but he’ll be here soon, doll,” Bucky answered, turning his head so his stubbled jaw rubbed against the soft skin of your cheek, all the while eying your tits without being too obvious about it.

You shivered at the bristly feel of Bucky’s rough stubble against your skin, ignoring the rushing thrill it sent through your body to pull away and pout up at him. “But then who’s going to hold my phone while I dance?” you asked in a teasing voice, holding up your phone and gesturing at your dress to show you had no where to put it.

Heat flamed in Bucky’s eyes as his gaze raked down your body, taking in your skimpy dress that clung to all your curves and left your legs bare from thigh to ankle. But when he looked back up at you, it was gone so fast you weren’t sure if you’d seen it or not. Before you could decide if Bucky had really been checking you out, he snagged your phone and slipped it into the pocket of his army pants. “I’ve got it, doll, I’ll give it to Steve when he gets here,” he said, giving you a charming smile.

“Thank you!” you half-yelled, going up on tiptoe again to plant another kiss on Bucky’s rugged cheek, pressing your hand on his firm chest to keep your balance. For a moment, you lingered. Bucky smelled like fresh winter air and beer, the scent enticing on his skin. Your nipple grazed against his arm, sending a little shiver down your spine as you pulled away sharply.

When you caught Bucky’s eye, his blue gaze burned with heat that made you feel hot and flustered. “Don’t mention it, doll,” Bucky said, a smirk curving his full lips. His tongue poked out and traced his lower lip and you didn’t realize you were so focused on the movement until one of your best friends wrenched your attention away.

Yelena tugged on your arm, yelling, “SHOTS!” in your face as she pulled you away from Bucky. You laughed, joining your friends at the kitchen island. Sam had poured each of you a shot of tequila and you happily reached for one of the little plastic shot glasses.

Bucky pressed against your back, much closer than was technically appropriate between friends—close enough you could feel a bulge in the front of his pants—and reached around you to grab a shot of his own. You shivered, feeling the heat and hardness of your friend’s body through the thin satin of your dress and wondered if you should abandon your plan to find some random guy and fuck Bucky instead. He had an edge to him Steve didn’t and you wondered if that translated to him being able to give you what you needed.

But then Sam was raising his shot glass, everyone else following his lead, and you looked around at your group of friends. You realized if you fucked Bucky, there may have been a better chance of you getting the type of sex you wanted, but it would impact the rest of your friend group and you weren’t willing to risk it. You weren’t even sure Bucky could fuck you like that—maybe he was even more vanilla than Steve. Those were good enough reasons not to press back into Bucky, but if you were honest with yourself, the real reason was that deep down you knew if you fucked either Bucky or Sam, it’d ruin your chances with Steve forever, and you didn’t want that. But you didn’t have time to unpack that thought when you were surrounded by friends at a Halloween party.

Your attention refocused on your friends just in time for Sam to finish whatever toast he’d been giving, “Let’s party hard, fuck hard and have a happy Halloween!” Everyone laughed and you clinked glasses with Yelena and Kate before downing your shot. You’d already started pre-gaming back at your own apartment with your friends, so the tequila went down easily, settling deep in your stomach and spreading warmth through your limbs.

“Another!” Thor Odinson yelled, joining your group and snatching the bottle of tequila from Sam before pouring more shots.

You held out your cup for more alongside Kate and Yelena, and you all downed that round together without waiting for another toast. Thor and Sam cheered you three on, then threw back their own shots. The alcohol created a happy glow in your chest that had your limbs loosening, but when you held your cup out for another, a warm palm slid around your side to your stomach, pulling you back against a broad body, your angel wings crushing against a hard chest, and out of reach of Thor’s pouring.

“Don’t you think you should take it easy, doll?” Bucky asked in a low voice next to your ear so only you could hear. “You just got here.” He reached around you with his other arm, plucking your shot glass out of your fingers and tossing it down on the island.

Frowning while your friends did a third shot, you turned in Bucky’s arms, purposefully brushing your ass against the bulge in his pants to torture him for taking your cup away. You pouted up at him. “I’m just having fun!” you insisted, leaning further into his chest and giving him your best wide-eyed puppy dog look. Your hands landed on Bucky’s shoulders and you couldn’t help but notice how broad and strong they felt under your fingers.

Bucky grinned as you pressed up against him. It wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting, but he wasn’t going to complain when you pressed your soft tits against his hard chest. His arm had settled around your lower back, just above the swell of your ass and he wondered if he could get away with a little grope before Steve showed up. He was still debating it when he ducked his head so he could speak into your ear. “I’m just looking out for you, doll,” he said, innocence in his voice. “Don’t want you to be a drunk, sloppy mess before Steve even gets here.”

Your friend’s deep voice rumbling through your chest and the feel of his breath on your neck sent electricity shooting down your spine, settling deep in your core. You knew you’d already decided not to fuck Bucky, but you couldn’t help yourself from melting against him—he just felt so good. Too distracted by dragging your palms down from his shoulders to his arms, practically feeling him up through his army costume, you didn’t even wonder why Bucky wouldn’t want you getting too drunk before Steve showed up.

A sharp smack on your ass shocked you out of your lust-drunk—and a little bit real-drunk—stupor. With a gasp, you looked up at Bucky in surprise. He wore a smug grin, no hint of remorse in his shining blue eyes for spanking you. And, if you were honest with yourself, you liked it. You wondered if you should reconsider Bucky as a potential one night stand or fuck buddy. Maybe it’d be worth it…

Before you could come to a decision, Bucky eased you away from his body. “Go dance, doll,” he ordered in a quiet, commanding tone that had heat gathering between your legs.

Tongue-tied by your reaction to your friend, you nodded dumbly and turned back to your friends. You swallowed hard as you tugged on their arms. “Time to dance!” you yelled over the music, proud of yourself when your voice came out loud and strong. Yelena and Kate both screamed happily, waving to Sam, Thor and Bucky before winding through the crowd to the living room.

You shook off your attraction to Bucky, reminding yourself he was off limits unless you wanted Steve to be furious with you. And you didn’t want that. Probably. Unless that was the key to getting what you wanted from him… You pushed that thought aside as you linked hands with your friends, dancing in a circle on the edge of the crowd. All the while, you kept an eye out to see if there was anyone at the party who looked like they could fuck you the way you needed.

-~-~-

Back in the kitchen, Bucky watched you dance until Steve walked in through the back door of Sam’s house. The brown-haired man dragged his eyes from your ass and looked to his best friend, easily recognizing the costume he’d helped Steve assemble. Steve lifted the mask of his costume up, setting it on top of his head as he beelined through the kitchen to Bucky.

“Your girl’s already here,” Bucky said by way of a greeting, nodding to the living room where you were dancing to the thumping beat with your friends. You, Yelena and Kate were still on the edge of the crowd, in full view of the kitchen. Your hips swayed rhythmically to the beat as both men watched.

You hadn’t been kidding that night in his apartment, Steve realized, your costume was slutty. The way the bottom hem of your dress fluttered while you danced, revealing glimpses of your plush ass, had his cock thickening in his pants. He wanted to bend you over where you stood and shove his cock deep in your pussy, claiming you for everyone to see while you squealed and squirmed under him. See if you call him a gentleman after that.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Steve turned back to his best friend, who held out a phone for him. “She gave me this to hold on to,” Bucky explained and for a moment, jealousy flared hot in Steve’s chest at the thought of you letting anyone but him hold onto your phone. Bucky must’ve sensed the shift in Steve because he was quick to explain. “Don’t worry, man, I told her I’d give it to you as soon as I saw you.”

That helped to soothe the jealousy a bit, along with the knowledge that Bucky knew better than to make a move on you. Steve wasn’t oblivious, he’d seen the way his best friend looked at you sometimes, and he’d wanted to get to the party before you to ensure you didn’t get any ideas about Bucky. But he knew his best friend wouldn’t encourage or take you up on any offer that might piss off Steve. Bucky was a bit bigger, but Steve was tenacious in a fight and he knew he could beat his friend’s ass if he needed to prove a point—the point being that you belonged to him.

“Thanks man,” Steve muttered to his friend, his eyes finding you again in the crowd. As you spun slowly where you danced, he got a better look at your angel costume—if it could even be called that. The soft shiny material of your dress clung to your waist and the curves of your tits, barely covering your ass, making your legs look long and leaving them on display for everyone to see.

When you twirled again, he watched your tits jiggle in the top and bit back a groan at the realization you weren’t wearing a bra. Were you wearing panties under that little dress, he wondered, or were you dancing on the edge of flashing your pussy to every guy in the room with each twist of your hips? What a fucking slut, Steve thought, sexual frustration and affection creating an intoxicating haze in his mind. The urge to make you his slut was almost overwhelming.

Steve was dragged out of his possessive thoughts by Bucky pressing a beer into his hand. The blond grunted a thanks to his best friend as he continued watching you dance until your friends dragged you deeper into the crowd and you disappeared from view. When he turned to Bucky, he found his best friend’s eyes following you through the throng of dancers. Steve knocked his shoulder against his friend to get Bucky’s attention.

The brunet shrugged unapologetically, taking a swig from his own beer before speaking low so only Steve could hear. “She’s needy tonight, Stevie,” he said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation before going on. “Practically humped my leg when I took her drink away—for you, mind you, so she wouldn’t be too drunk,” he added quickly before Steve could jump to the wrong conclusion that Bucky was trying to make a move on you. Bucky pointed a finger at his best friend and raised his eyebrows. “You sure you’re gonna be able to handle her?”

Steve smirked, not letting himself be anything less than self-assured that you’d end the night begging him to let you out of the friendzone. He couldn’t wait to watch you come apart on his cock, bent over with your face down and ass up while he pounded your pussy until you were crying through your release. Although he’d clued Bucky in on his plan to fuck you, he hadn’t told the brunet everything he had in mind for you, so he could understand his friend’s concern to a certain extent, but that didn’t stop Steve from snorting derisively.

“I can handle her,” he answered confidently, flicking his gaze to his best friend’s. “Why, you want a piece of her?” Steve had never confronted Bucky with the way his friend looked at you, and he was curious to see what Bucky would say when presented with the option.

Bucky gave his friend a long look, trying to work out if the question was a trap, but after a moment he threw back the rest of his beer and shrugged, deciding he didn’t give a fuck either way. “Yeah, man, you know I’d be more than happy to volunteer if all she’s looking for is some easy, no strings attached dick,” he answered honestly. “But I know she’s yours—but you gotta take what’s yours first, before you go around offering to share, Stevie,” Bucky shot a meaningful look at Steve before he slapped his blond friend on the shoulder and stepped away to grab another beer.

Steve absorbed what his friend had said while he watched the crowd of dancers, catching sight of your halo and angel wings between the shifting bodies. He made a mental note that Bucky was interested in you and he didn’t seem to mind sharing as long as he had Steve’s blessing. The blond was in the middle of figuring out what he could do with that information when he caught sight of you in the mass of people on the dance floor.

You were dancing with some guy dressed as a devil, grinding your ass back against his lap, arms looped around his neck in a way that pushed your tits out obscenely, your nipples peaked and poking through the shimmery white dress you wore. Angel wings hung from your shoulders in direct contrast to the filthy way you moved. As Steve watched, the guy slid his hands from your hips down to your thighs and Steve growled at seeing someone—some random stranger—touching what was his without permission.

Steve finished his beer and fixed his Halloween costume mask back over his face before pushing off the kitchen counter he’d been leaning against. He stalked through the crowded kitchen with a purposeful stride, diving into the crush of bodies in the living room. With relentless intent, he moved toward you with the singular focus of getting to you and stealing you away from that fucking devil guy.

-~-~-

Your pussy throbbed to the beat of the pounding music and your arousal was slicking your thighs as you moved in the arms of a guy dressed like a devil, your wetness having already soaked through your tiny little thong. You were horny, needy, desperate, and the feel of grinding on a guy on the dance floor was only making you hotter. His hands were sliding down from your waist to your thighs, teasing the bottom of your dress, and you moaned softly, pressing your ass back into the hardness in his pants.

He didn’t seem that big by your judgement, but you were hoping you were wrong—though you still hadn’t decided whether to risk it and find a dark corner to get better acquainted with what he was working with. Yet. But then he had to go and kill your mood.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, baby?” the devil asked in your ear.

Something about the guy’s voice gave you an immediate ick and your face screwed up in a disgusted look as you shuddered, feeling like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your desire. You didn’t even realize you had such a thing for voices until this guy’s completely turned you off. It didn’t help that he’d chosen probably the most cliched pickup line he possibly could’ve—zero points for matching it to your costume.

When you looked around, ignoring the question and looking for your friends to have them help you escape, your gaze landed on a man off to the side. He stood still in the throng of dancers, standing out in the crowd like a lighthouse standing sentry amidst a thrashing storm. Even though you couldn’t see the man’s eyes, you could feel his intent gaze on your body.

The man was tall and dressed like Ghostface from Scream, but instead of the cheap black robe most guys wore with the hooded mask, he donned a black t-shirt that pulled deliciously tight over a broad chest and shoulders, the sleeves stretched to the point of nearly ripping across his bulging biceps. Your eyes trailed down, finding his t-shirt was tucked into black jeans slung low on a trim waist, the bottom of his pants disappearing into black combat boots. His arms were bare up to the wrist, showing off muscular forearms that were dusted with light brown hair, wearing what looked like black latex gloves on his hands. The overall effect had heat singing through your body, settling deep in your core and making you wet all over again.

The devil at your back either didn’t care or didn’t notice you hadn’t responded to him, and his hands started to inch higher on your thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress and making you shudder in revulsion, an outraged frown marring your face. You were about to turn around and push the devil guy off you, but Ghostface was quicker, grabbing your hand and pulling you into his chest while he pressed his palm against the devil’s face and shoved him away from you.

“What the fuck!” the devil shouted indignantly.

You couldn’t be bothered to even look back at the guy, too busy plastering yourself against Ghostface, your front flush against his strong chest, your nipples rubbing the inside of your satin dress teasingly. You shivered and pressed yourself harder against him, your arms winding around his neck and clinging to him while your hips swayed to the beat of the music.

Ghostface made a shooing gesture at the devil and the other guy stalked off in a huff, disappearing in the crowd. You barely noticed him leave, especially as the feel of Ghostface’s gloved hands smoothing down your lower back to your ass lit a fire beneath your skin. He shoved his knee between your thighs and hiked you up on his leg until you were grinding your wet pussy down on his muscular thigh. He bent his knees, working his hips in slow rolls to the thumping bass.

You let him manhandle you onto his leg and then leaned on him, draping your body over his and grinding to the beat. Pressing your face into his shoulder, you took a deep breath, inhaling his scent—woodsy and earthy. Something about it seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Ignoring why it smelled familiar, you let Ghostface’s scent lull you into a sense of safety you didn’t quite understand.

All around you, other people danced, but Ghostface worked your bodies to the music in a way that felt more like fucking than dancing. In no time at all, you were breathless and panting with need, clinging to his shoulders as your knees wobbled and slick covered your thighs, no doubt soaking into his pants. But though you wanted to spread your legs wider and grind harder until you came all over this stranger’s thigh, you forced yourself to hold back that slutty impulse. Instead, you made yourself spin around in his arms until your ass settled against his lap so you could get a hint at what he was working with and whether it’d be worth it to choose him to fuck you.

A sharp gasp caught in your throat as you felt Ghostface’s massive bulge twitch against your ass. He didn’t even feel fully hard and he was bigger than any other guy you’d fucked. He felt like he was almost as big as Steve—not that you knew how big your friend’s cock was. But he’d get hard while you spooned sometimes. You’d lay in his arms, silently praying he’d make a move, but he never did, and you’d fall asleep wet and frustrated, feeling Steve’s cock pressing against your ass. The feel of it was burned into your memory.

If Ghostface was anywhere near as big as your friend, you just had to fuck him. Before you’d even fully made your decision, your ass was grinding back against him indecently. You moaned softly and lifted your arms up to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers digging into the cheap fabric of the mask’s hood. Your back arched in a perfect curve, your angel wings crushed against his chest, your tits thrust forward, nipples poking through your thin dress.

Ghostface’s gloved hands gripped your hips roughly, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to make you gasp again. The dull pain of his grip was quickly overshadowed by the heat of your arousal as he rubbed his thick bulge against your ass. “Like what you feel, angel?” the man asked, his voice low and rough in your ear.

Again, something about the man’s voice sparked a sense of familiarity deep in your brain, but you brushed it off as simple chemistry. You were so turned on by the stranger, you were imagining things that weren’t there, wanting him to be someone he wasn’t. Still, he had you so hot and bothered you’d be an idiot not to choose him to be the one to fuck you—so you made your decision.

Tilting your head back against his shoulder so your mouth was closer to his ear, you let out a low, wanton moan. “I like it a lot, Mr. Ghostface,” you rasped in a husky, needy tone, grinding your ass harder against his bulge. You could hear him breathing harshly through the mask and it only turned you on more.

“Fuck,” he grunted, voice distorted through the mask but deliciously deep, sending a shiver down your spine to settle heavily in your core. “You’re a dirty fucking slut, aren’tcha, angel?” he asked, sliding his gloved hands down from your hips to your thighs. When you nodded against his shoulder, he groped your soft flesh in an almost punishing grip, fingers teasing the insides of your thighs. “Are you wearing any panties under this slutty little dress?” he asked, his hands sliding up under the hem until the tips of his gloved fingers were mere centimeters away from your dripping slit. “Or were you planning on flashing this pussy to all the men here until one snapped and bent you over, fucking you in the middle of the room for the whole party to see?”

His filthy words were like electric currents shooting straight to your throbbing core, your clit pulsing with need as he spoke to you with such vulgar language in that deep, degrading tone. Ghostface was exactly what you’d wanted to find at Sam’s Halloween party, a man who would fuck you like a slut, and you were almost giddy enough to turn around and jump him in the middle of the dance floor. You managed to hold yourself back, turning around in his arms until you were facing him again. “Why don’t you take me upstairs and find out for yourself,” you challenged, a smirk curling the edge of your mouth.

Through the black mesh of the Ghostface mask’s eyes, you could see the man’s gaze sparkle with hunger and though you couldn’t be sure since his face was hidden, you felt certain he was grinning. He ducked his head so he could speak next to your ear. “I have a better idea, angel,” he growled, sending more shivers skating down your spine.

Before you could ask what he meant, Ghostface grabbed your hand, threading his fingers through yours and tugging you toward the sliding door that lead to the house’s back deck. It was a warm night for October, but there was still a chill in the air and your outfit was incredibly skimpy, so when you stepped outside, a shudder wracked your body. You clung to Ghostface’s hand, winding yourself around his arm to try to steal some of his warmth.

He glanced down at you and you thought you caught a glimpse of his eyes shining happily at the sight of you clinging to him, but he looked away to navigate through the crowd on the deck. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone, just tugged you along with him as he walked to the edge, then down the stairs to the yard. There were fewer people milling about, but some were circled around a fire pit. Ghostface ignored them, leading you down the sloping grass hill, holding your hand firmly so you didn’t slip on the damp grass. The sounds of the party, the thumping bass from inside and the chatter of people by the fire pit, grew more distant the farther you got away from the house.

When he walked to the edge of the tree line where Sam’s property ended and the woods began, you dug your heels into the soft earth beneath your feet and pulled the stranger to a stop. Even with how horny you were for this man, you had some sense of self-preservation and it was telling you not to walk into the woods with a complete stranger whose face you hadn’t even seen. “Where are we going?” you asked, a little bit of fear leaking through your voice.

Ghostface glanced back at the house and when you followed his gaze, you saw Bucky standing on the back deck, leaning on the wooden railing, smoking a cigarette. Though it was too far away to really tell, you had the feeling Bucky was watching you and the man. If you screamed for help, you were sure he’d come running, but you hadn’t decided if that was necessary just yet. Tingles of desire were mixing with the little shivers of fear and creating an intoxicating mix in your body that you didn’t want to give up unless you had to.

“Before we get started,” Ghostface began in a low, rumbling voice. “Do you want a safe word?”

His words drew your attention back to the man in the Ghostface mask, and you couldn’t help but notice he didn’t answer your question. His voice distracted you, though. Without the loud music and crush of bodies, that sense of familiarity sparked stronger at the sound, just like when you’d heard his voice inside and when you’d smelled him. You tilted your head to the side as you considered him.

When you didn’t answer, his shoulders stiffened like he was afraid he was losing you. “Pick a safe word, angel, and I’ll stop whatever we’re doing if you use it,” he urged, a thread of desperation in his tone.

His voice niggled at your brain. You knew you recognized it, you just weren’t sure who it belonged to. But your curiosity was piqued and you were still so fucking horny, so you threw caution to the wind. Even if he didn’t respect your safe word, Bucky was within earshot if you screamed. So you gave him a word. “Sidney,” you said, lips quirking at your cleverness while you stared at the Ghostface mask.

His shoulders relaxed and you could hear the grin in his voice as he responded, “Sidney, it is.” He held his black gloved hand out to you.

For a moment, you just looked at it. Your eyes trailed up his muscled arm to the Ghostface mask and then over his shoulder to the pitch black woods beyond. You weren’t sure what he had planned for you, but the way your slit leaked at the thought of being fucked in the woods had you making a decision. With one last glance over your shoulder, finding Bucky still standing on the deck, you slid your fingers into his hand and let him tug you into the deep, dark shadows of the trees.

It was even colder in the woods, and you pressed close to Ghostface’s muscled arm as he tromped through the fallen leaves and underbrush. He didn’t make you walk far, maybe a minute or two, until he came to a stop in a little clearing, the trees overhead thinned enough for the full moon to shine down on the forest floor. Laid out over the ground was a thick blanket, or maybe a couple of layered blankets, and they looked clean, like they’d only been put there earlier that day.

When you looked up at Ghostface, you caught that look in his eye through the mesh, like he was grinning beneath the mask. “We’ll have more privacy out here, angel,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and a little muffled. “So you can scream as loud as you want.”

Maybe you should’ve been scared, maybe you should’ve used your safe word or tried to run back to the party, but at his sinful words, you pressed closer. “You gonna fuck me hard enough to scream, Mr. Ghostface?” you asked in a teasing voice, your lips plumped up in a pout.

“Oh, angel,” he growled, tugging you around to his front. He walked you back until you were pressed up against the thick trunk of a tree, your fluffy feathered angel wings protecting your shoulders from the bark. With a rough grip on your thigh, he lifted one of your legs up to hook around his waist, stepping in between and pinning you to the tree, the massive bulge in his pants pressed to your dripping core. You shivered at the feel of him, wondering for the first time whether it would fit. “I’m gonna fuck you until you scream yourself raw.”

With that sinful promise hanging in the air and stealing all clever comebacks from your lips, Ghostface reached down and shoved your dress up around your hips until your tiny white thong was on display. The meager scrap of cloth was the only thing protecting your wet little slit from his eyes. He let out a deep, guttural groan at the sight. “Fuck, angel, I don’t think you could even count these as panties,” he muttered, his black gloved fingers tracing the side of the garment. In a quick movement, he twisted his fingers around the thin fabric and, with a sharp yank, he easily ripped the thong away from your body.

A harsh gasp was pulled from your lips and you jerked in Ghostface’s arms at the feel of your panties being ripped off you. No one had ever done that to you before and it drove you a little wild, seeing the way this man’s muscles had bulged in his arm as he tore through your panties. More desire leaked from your slit and slid down to your ass. As Ghostface pulled your ruined panties away from your body, the fabric clinging obscenely to your soaking wet folds, it was replaced with the cold air of the night. Goosebumps raised all over your body as the October chill caressed your drenched pussy and slick thighs, highlighting exactly how messy you were already.

But a moment later, you couldn’t care less about the cold because Ghostface was pressing his gloved fingers between your folds, sliding them against your slippery skin and circling your clit. Your hips bucked against his hand, trying to take his fingers inside your grasping channel. You were so wet and needy and you felt pathetically empty, every cell in your body demanding you be filled and fucked, but the man just tsked at you.

“Such a needy fucking slut,” he gritted out like he was clenching his teeth while he played with your pussy. His head was tilted down like he couldn’t get enough of the sight of his fingers sliding between your folds, and the way your body responded to his touch. “So fucking wet and warm—this cunt is begging for cock, isn’t it angel?”

“God, yes,” you answered on an exhale, your voice breathless with need. “Need your cock.” You tried to reach between your bodies and tug on his belt to slide it open, but Ghostface batted your hands away.

He gripped your face in his free hand while the other teased your pussy, bringing his masked face close to yours like he was getting an up close look at your expression. “Hmm, no,” he murmured, pinning you against the tree with his hand on your face. “You don’t sound nearly desperate enough just yet, angel,” he said and you could hear the evil smirk in his voice.

Your protest died on your lips as he let go of your face, shifting your leg up his waist so he could dig something out of his pocket. “I think we should record this, don’t you?” he asked, but your pleasure-soaked brain was taking too long to understand his meaning. He pulled out a phone and opened the camera, flicking the flash on. The bright light shone in your eyes for a second before he moved it down your body to where his glove-covered fingers were still teasing your pussy.

Awareness prickled across your skin at the realization he was taking a video of what he was doing to you. It occurred to you that you could use your safe word, but when you looked down, you could see his fingers playing with your pussy on the screen and it looked hot, the sight making your clit throb in pleasure. You liked being recorded, liked the way it made you feel desired and on display. Rolling your hips against Ghostface’s fingers, you watched the motion on the camera and groaned, head thrown back against the tree.

After teasing you for what felt like forever, Ghostface finally slid one of his thick fingers into your tight hole, making you moan loudly. Your fingers scrabbled at the tree, trying to cling to something while he finally pressed inside your pussy. “You’re gonna beg so sweetly for my cock, angel,” he promised in a harsh, almost distracted voice as he stared down at the camera, watching his finger slide in and out of your channel on the phone. “And I want to save it so we can rewatch it over and over and over again.” He punctuated his words with short, quick thrusts of his finger, making you cry out.

“Please,” you begged, needing more than one finger, wanting to feel stretched out by his cock, but unable to form the words as he fucked you. It was so good but not nearly enough, and yet, you could feel an orgasm building slowly in your core.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, angel,” Ghostface groaned, fucking you harder with his finger. “Can you hear the sounds your pussy is making for me while I fingerfuck your sloppy wet cunt?”

Of course you could hear it. “Yes,” you groaned, a little humiliation mixing with the ruthless pleasure he was giving you as your body told him exactly how turned on you were. Even with your heart pounding in your chest and Ghostface’s harsh breathing in his mask, you could hear the lewd sounds of his finger pumping in and out of your dripping hole. He fucked you faster, and the sounds only grew louder, his palm slapping against your wet folds, the heel of his hand striking your clit with sharp little smacks. “More, please,” you begged on a strangled sob.

“Mmm, that’s it angel, beg for me,” he urged, shoving a second finger in your pussy, drawing a ragged moan from you. Your head thrashed side to side against the tree trunk at your back, your hips writhing against his fingers.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted in rhythm with his thrusts, his two fingers almost enough but not quite. You could feel yourself hurtling toward the edge, you just needed a little more.

Ghostface seemed to know exactly what you needed and when he stuffed a third finger in your tight hole, making you stretch around him, your back arched and the most debauched sound you’d ever heard left your own lips. He made a pleased sound.

“Good girl, angel, take my fingers,” he praised, his voice raspy and muffled through the Ghostface mask. “Need to stretch you out so you’re ready for my cock,” he continued, almost as if to himself. When you glanced at him, his face was pointed down, like his eyes were transfixed on the sight of his three fingers pumping in and out of your tight channel on the phone screen. “Don’t wanna hurt my pretty little fucktoy before I’ve even had a chance to use her properly.”

“Oh god, fuck,” you groaned at his filthy words and the way he was so consumed with your body. Your desire flared hot at the way he talked about you like you weren’t even there. Something about being so thoroughly used hit you with a staggering wave of pleasure. All of a sudden, you were on the precipice of your release. “Gonna come,” you murmured. Through slitted eyes, you tracked the movement of the cell phone flash panning up your body to your face. You let your need shine through your expression, eyes looking into the light as you begged, “Please make me come.”

“That’s my girl, begging like such a good fucking slut,” he praised, fucking you harder with his fingers and drawing more moans from your lips, one tumbling after the other. “Come all over this stranger’s fingers like the filthy fucking slut you are.”

Something about the way he said the word ‘stranger’ had alarm bells going off in your head, but they were distant with your mind too consumed by the pleasure he was giving you. You were too focused on chasing your release, a whine rising in your throat as your arms braced against the tree and you fucked yourself on his fingers. You were so close.

“Take my mask off,” Ghostface grunted, but you couldn’t hear him over your moaning and panting. So he tried again, his voice louder and firmer with the command. “Take my mask off, angel—I want you to know exactly whose fingers you’re coming on."

The alarm bells were louder now, trying to warn you about something, but you still couldn’t be bothered to care too much. With fumbling, eager hands, you curled your fingers around the edges of the Ghostface mask. You pulled the mask and hood off, letting it drop to the forest floor with a muffled thud. A loud, sharp gasp left your lips before it even landed on the ground.

“STEVE!?” you cried in confusion, only vaguely aware of the camera recording your reaction. You were shocked by the sight of your friend’s handsome face, his blue eyes shining bright and wild in the moonlight, his full lips twisted up into a smug smirk. His usually neat blond hair was messy from the mask, and for some reason, that was the detail you focused on. You’d never seen him without perfectly combed and styled hair. To see him so disheveled sent heat and desire curling through your body, your pussy clamping down on his fingers like you didn’t want to let him go.

Steve only allowed you a moment to absorb the information it was him who’d lured you into the woods to fingerfuck you against a tree. In the next heartbeat, your friend shoved his three fingers ruthlessly into your cunt, his thumb circling your clit. A feral grin pulled across his face as he watched you come apart.

It was all too much. You’d already been dangling on the brink of your release and the shock of finding your friend beneath the Ghostface mask mixed with the pleasure he mercilessly delivered to your body, sent you flying over the edge. Your head thumped against the tree and your lips opened wide on a scream as you came all over Steve’s fingers.

“Good girl, being so fucking good for me, angel,” Steve murmured as he fucked you through your orgasm, stretching his arm holding the phone so the camera could capture both your face and his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. He widened his fingers even as your walls clamped down on him, making you stretch around him. “Your pussy feels so fucking good coming all over my fingers—never felt anything so fucking sweet.”

Lost to the feeling of your ebbing orgasm, all you could do was moan for Steve, his praising words sparking a new kind of heat, this one in your chest as your heart squeezed. You didn’t know if you liked his dirty talk or his sweet words better and a small part of you worried he was going to ruin you for all other men if he kept treating you like the most precious thing in the world and a filthy slut. “Steve,” you murmured, hands finding his chest and sliding up to wrap around his shoulders. You wanted him closer, needed him closer.

Steve must’ve understood what you meant because the bright light from the flash disappeared and in the next moment he was dropping your leg to the ground and gathering you up against his chest. He held you tight, easing you away from the tree and further into the clearing. With gentle but firm hands, Steve sat you down on the blankets on the ground, helping you take off your angel wings so you could lay down. He covered your body with his, holding you while you caught your breath.

Though your breathing was evening out, your mind was racing, processing the fact that your friend—polite, golden boy Steve Rogers—had been the man under the Ghostface mask. It didn’t seem possible. You’d known Steve for years. You’d given him sign after sign after sign you wanted more from him, all of which he’d completely ignored.

When he’d taken you as his date to his boss’s wedding, and you’d seen how deliciously hot he’d looked in his suit, you’d practically thrown yourself into his arms, feeling up his hard chest through his shirt and jacket. The whole night, you’d dropped every hint you could think of, short of trying to grab his cock through his dress pants. He’d still escorted you home and dropped you off at your door with a respectful kiss on your cheek. The fact that he’d fingerfucked you up against a tree in the woods behind Sam’s Halloween party just didn’t make sense.

“Steve?” you whispered his name, confusion coloring your tone. You pushed against your friend’s chest until he rolled to the side, stretching out next to you on the blankets.

His face was guarded, lips pressed into an impassive line and blue eyes wary as he watched your expression. But there was a wildness in his features you’d never seen before. Something he must’ve kept on a tight leash and buried so you’d never see it. All of a sudden, you were angry. You were furious that he’d kept this side of himself from you. All you could think about were all the orgasms you’d missed out on while he’d been busy pretending to be the golden boy gentleman.

“What the fuck was that, Steve?” you demanded, sitting up and pushing at his chest when he tried to rise up next to you, forcing him back on his elbows. “What the fuck was that, huh? Huh?” You punctuated your angry questions with more shoves to Steve’s chest.

With ease, he caught your wrists in one of his hands, holding you captive so he was able to finally sit up. Your friend loomed over you, blocking out the full moon in the sky. His blue eyes raked over your expression, and you squirmed beneath his stare, heat flooding your core. Steve’s gaze dropped down, catching the little wiggle of your hips and a dangerous grin spread slowly across his face.

“Oh, angel,” Steve murmured in a low, sinful voice as he dragged his eyes back up your body, lingering on the way your thin white dress clung to the curves of your tits. “That was just the beginning.” His blue gaze pierced your own, and you swore could feel the promise in his answer shoot directly to your clit, making it pulse with need.

You didn’t have time to ponder how your friend was able to make your pussy throb with some innocuous words and a look because in the next breath, Steve pushed you back down into the blankets, pinning your hands above your head while he groped your tits roughly with his free hand.

“God, your fucking tits, angel,” Steve groaned. He ducked his head down to suck your nipple into his mouth through your dress, getting the fabric wet so that when he moved to the other, it was left tortured by the combination of the damp satin and the cool night air. He did the same to your other nipple, every bite and lick and pull of his lips on your sensitive peaks shooting straight down to your clit. “So soft and perfect,” he murmured against your skin like he was talking to himself.

Your hips bucked in the air against nothing, seeking the friction your body so desperately craved. A whine wrenched free from your lips. You couldn’t believe how needy you were already, after the knee-shaking orgasm Steve had already given you, but you felt insatiable with your friend’s hands on your body. “Steve, please,” you begged, unsure what you were even pleading for.

Steve grinned against your chest, looking up at you from under thick, dark lashes. “You’re getting the hang of that, angel,” he commented in a casual voice. At your look of confusion, his grin broadened. “Begging.”

Rising up, Steve held you pinned to the blankets with his hand and his gaze as he reached his other hand up to his mouth. His caught the edge of his glove between his teeth and pulled it off, the sight of it making you pant with need. It shouldn’t have been so hot to watch your friend take his glove off, but it was. Then he was sliding his bare hand down your body and under your dress, finding you drenched again—with your first release and your renewed desire.

You squirmed, your pussy still sensitive even as your body begged for more. When Steve dragged the rough pad of his finger over your clit, all you could do was let out a gasping moan. Your hands tugged against his grip, instinctively wanting to push him away from your oversensitive bud.

For his part, Steve seemed to be barely paying you any mind, his warm fingers sliding against your swollen flesh slowly like he was taking his time to explore you. “Fuck, I’ve dreamed about this pussy for years, angel,” Steve admitted, his gaze fixed wholly on the juncture of your thighs. “I’d lay awake and jerk off to you when you were sleeping right next to me, thinking about what it would feel like to sink my cock into this sweet cunt.” Possessiveness shone bright in Steve’s eyes in the moonlight, making you shiver. “Used to fuck my hand while you were right there, thinking about how wet you’d be for me—and look at you now, angel, fucking soaking my fingers like a good little slut.”

Anger swirled in your chest, battling the pleasure consuming your core, and eventually won out, driving you to speak. “Why didn’t you fuck me then?” you demanded in the same harsh tone you’d used before. That finally pulled Steve’s attention away from your pussy. “I was wet and willing and right fucking there, Steve, why didn’t you fuck me?”

His fingers paused as he stared at you like he’d been struck dumb, but the expression was quickly washed away, frustration replacing it. “I didn’t want to be a creep,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “I didn’t know you wanted me to fuck you.”

“God, Steve, why did you think I asked you to cuddle with me?” your voice was rising as your frustration matched his, all the time you’d lost to Steve being unable to read a simple signal pressing down on your chest, your heart beating for all the time you’d lost with him. “I shoved my ass against your cock how many times, hoping you’d take a fucking hint—but you never did!”

A growling roar ripped free from Steve, the sound barely human, before he dove on top of you, his arms digging under your back to hold you so tight, it forced the breath from your lungs. In the next instant, your friend’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss wasn’t sweet or gentle, it was rough and dirty as Steve poured all his months and years of frustration into you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and taking possession. But you met him with all your own frustration, your freed hands digging into his messy blond hair and clinging to the soft strands like only god himself would be able to make you let him go.

Steve trailed his lips down your jaw, then your neck, licking and sucking on your skin hard enough you knew he was going to leave marks, but you didn’t care. You twisted your fingers in his hair and clutched him close to your body, not wanting to let him get too far away. But you needed more, you needed all of him, you needed him to fill you up until he was buried deep inside you. “Steve, please—please,” you begged in a ragged whisper.

Instead of responding with words, though, Steve growled and yanked the front of your dress down to expose your tits, the force of his hand too much for the thin straps and they tore easily. A shocked gasp fell from your lips as your nipples were exposed to the night air, but you couldn’t care less about your cheap dress when Steve descended on your tits, sucking and biting your nipples until you were writhing beneath him, feeling every sting of his teeth like a pulse in your clit.

Frustrated by his lack of attention to your pussy, you snaked a hand down between your legs, managing to circle your poor neglected clit once before Steve’s hand closed around your wrist and he pulled you away with an angry growl. You whimpered as your pussy throbbed with need, looking up at Steve with pleading eyes as he shifted to kneel between your spread thighs. He dropped your hand at your side as if it offended him and you fisted your hands in the blankets to stop yourself from reaching for your needy clit again.

“Let’s get one thing straight, angel,” he said, before tugging his other glove off with his teeth so his bare hand could slip down between your legs, shoving three fingers into your tight hole without preamble. Your back arched up off the blankets and a desperate cry fell from your mouth. “This pussy might be between your legs,” he started, hooking his fingers inside you and pressing against a spot that had you seeing stars behind your eyelids. “But it belongs to me.” He growled, widening his fingers and forcing you to stretch around him, your eyes popping open and going wide as you stared up at him. “Do you understand?” His blue eyes were wild in the moonlight as he stared down at you.

Nodding your head quickly, you had to swallow to get your tongue to work again. “Yes, Steve,” you answered, gasping for air while he stretched you out around his fingers. The stretch stung a little but it felt good to be filled up, even if what you really wanted was his cock. “My pussy belongs to you.”

An evil smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s lips as he stared down at you, squirming under his hands. He shook his head slowly and for a moment you were confused. “Don’t say ‘my’ when it’s not yours, angel,” Steve corrected you.

At your enthusiastic nod, he grinned and bent down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, like a reward for being good for him. When he sat back up, his free hand held the phone he’d used to record you up against the tree. Your pussy clenched at the thought of being recorded again, splayed out on the blankets in the middle of the woods, your dress torn to reveal your tits and the bottom scrunched up around your waist. Though you couldn’t see it, you were sure your hair was a mess and you could feel your headband and the halo askew on your head. Altogether, you knew you looked like a slut and the thought of having it documented for Steve to look at later made your skin tingle and heat all over.

He swiped the camera open and the flash went on, making you wince at the bright light in the darkness. “I want to hear you say it for the camera, angel,” Steve said as he held the phone close to his chest, angling it so he was able to get your face and pussy in the shot. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

With the knowledge that Steve would be watching this later, you were struck with the impulse to perform for the camera. So you stared up into the lens with hooded eyes and you let pleasure soak your voice as you spoke. “This pussy belongs to Steven Grant Rogers,” you declared, spreading your thighs even wider for both Steve and the camera.

“Good girl,” Steve praised, making you smile dreamily. Your hips wriggled, trying to urge his fingers to move and give you some of the friction you desperately needed. But Steve had other ideas. He rotated his hand, his fingers still stuffed deep in your channel and making you cry out at the sensation. He pressed his thumb against the rosebud of your ass. “And who does this ass belong to?” he asked, blue eyes glittering with desire behind the glare of the flash.

Your chest heaved as you panted. For how much of a slut you liked to be, planning to pick up a guy at your friend’s Halloween party, you’d never taken anyone in your ass before. You’d never even really explored it much, except an experimental finger once by yourself, finding it to be weird, thought not entirely unpleasant. But as your hands clawed at the blankets with need and Steve pressed against your tight little hole, sending pulses of delicious pleasure through your body, you thought you might just let your friend be the first to fuck your ass.

“Steve,” you gasped out, your brain shorting out a little bit at the feel of his fingers buried inside your pussy and nudging against your rosebud. “This ass belongs to Steve Rogers.” You looked him dead in the eye when you spoke your next words. “All these holes belong to Steve Rogers.”

“Fuck,” Steve grunted, giving you a couple sloppy thrusts of his fingers in reward, dragging a rough moan from your lips. He watched you squirm on the phone screen, reveling in the way you responded to his touch. “Beg for my cock, angel, beg and I’ll give it to you,” he promised in a low, alluring voice. The permission in his command, like he was offering you an outlet for the desire that was building up inside you. It was all you needed to loosen your tongue.

“God, Steve, I need your cock, need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, staring up into the camera as your hands fisted in the blankets, the heels of your mary janes digging into the ground so you could lift your hips and fuck yourself on his fingers. Your lust only grew, gathering in your body like an impending storm, and your voice turned pleading with a whine as you got needier. “Please fuck this pussy with your huge cock, pound into this tight little hole until I’m screaming for you, Steve, please—please!”

“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl,” Steve praised, pulling his fingers from your sopping wet pussy. He shoved them in your mouth and you sucked greedily, eyes slipping closed as you delighted in the taste of your arousal on his hand. You licked them clean under the bright light of the camera’s flash and once you were done, Steve bent down to kiss you fiercely. His tongue swept into your mouth to taste you on your lips, groaning into you. Your fingers dug into his hair to hold him close, but he wrenched himself away, grinning cheekily down at you as he sat up.

Steve reached down to the belt buckle at the front of his dark jeans, pulling his belt free with a rasping sound that had you trying to clench your thighs closed to relieve the ache in your clit. But Steve shook his head. He pulled his zipper down slowly, teasingly, and you were practically vibrating with anticipation. When you tried to reach down and help him, he growled a soft, “No,” shaking his head again. Finally, he reached into his jeans and pulled his cock free.

A gasp escaped your lips and your jaw went slack at the sight of your friend’s cock. You knew he was big, you’d felt him harden against your ass enough times on his couch to know that much, but seeing him in all his glory was another thing entirely. Steve’s cock was thick, his own fingers barely meeting as he fisted his dick and stroked up the length. You could feel your pussy gush with even more wetness as you stared at Steve’s cock, eying the veins running up the length to a wide mushroom tip. Almost dazedly, you reached down, wanting to see how big he looked with your smaller hand wrapped around his girth.

Steve batted your hand away before fisting his dick again and pressing the tip to your tiny hole. With his other hand, he held the phone closer to where your bodies met, getting a closer shot of his cock resting on your pussy. He looked so fucking big, you didn’t know how he could possibly fit, but in the same breath you wanted him to make it fit inside your tight channel. You wanted him to fuck you hard and rough until you were screaming yourself raw like he’d promised.

You wanted him to put it in already, but he didn’t, just held your wriggling hips down while he slid his hard length against your drenched folds, getting the full length soaked in your arousal before settling his dick between your spread thighs. He paused, gritting his teeth, and you watched his jaw tic as he stared at the phone screen, transfixed by the sight of his big cock against your pussy. He stopped recording and pressed his fists into the blanket on either side of your shoulders as he leaned over you, looking down into your face.

“If you want me to wear a condom, you better tell me now,” he bit out through barely leashed need. When his blue eyes met yours, they were practically wild with desire.

It stole your breath, the way Steve stared at you like you were his entire world. But you shook your head as you looked up at him. “I don’t have one,” you murmured. You hadn’t had anywhere to keep it in your dress, so you’d given it to Kate to hold in her pocket, planning to snag it from her once you’d found a guy to take upstairs. But, of course, Steve had taken you outside and you’d been too curious and turned on by the stranger in the Ghostface mask to stop him so you could track down your friend.

Steve’s blue eyes flared with hunger and a little big of anger—but the anger seemed to win out. “What were you gonna do if the guy you picked up didn’t have one, angel?” he demanded, in a harsh voice. “You were gonna let some random stranger fuck you with his bare cock?” he asked, leaning over you so his face was hovering above yours. Anger and a little bit of fear swirled in his bright blue eyes. “You were gonna let some fucking guy raw you—you were gonna risk him knocking you up?”

The way he spoke to you, the way he was looking at you, all you could think was that Steve was glorious with fury contorting his handsome face into something feral. It occurred to you that you should be scared, that you could use your safe word—or you could explain that Kate had the protection you’d brought to the party—but all you felt was need. It was almost overwhelming how much you wanted Steve in that moment, your pussy flooding, your desire for him consuming you and holding your tongue. All you could do was stare up at your friend with a dazed look on your face.

When you didn’t respond or defend yourself, Steve tsked at you, shaking his head. He wrangled his anger under control with some visible effort, shoving a hand through his hair, making the blond strands even messier. “So fucking irresponsible, angel,” he admonished, his breathing heavy. Even at those chastising words, your need only flared hotter. “Well if you were happy to let a random stranger fuck you raw then you won’t mind if I do, huh?” he asked, his intense gaze reading your expression as he spoke, gauging your reaction to his words. “If you’re gonna get knocked up tonight, it’s gonna be by me.”

A jolt of need pulsed through your body straight to your core, your inner walls clenching pathetically around nothing, begging to be filled. You moaned loudly at Steve’s words and their effect on you. You wanted him so badly you finally remembered how to speak. “Please Steve, fuck me bare,” you begged. “Knock me up, I don’t care, just fuck me—please!” You were so desperate, tears were stinging your eyes and your hips were bucking up in the air, pussy sliding against his cock.

For a moment, Steve just stared at you, his hard jaw slack and his blue eyes dazed in the moonlight as if he were shocked by how much you seemed to want him and the filthy things he said. Then he seemed to snap out of whatever trance your words had put him in and he tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes closed while his hands gripped your thighs hard. He groaned up into the sky, sounding almost tortured.

“Fuck, angel,” he grunted, dragging his head up so he could stare down at you. “Such a filthy fucking slut begging me to knock you up—then you’d really be mine, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his voice so fucking eager. Your heart beat wildly, matching his enthusiasm.

Steve fisted his cock in one hand, lining it up at your entrance and teasing you by pushing the rounded tip against your little hole. “Is that what you want, want to be all fucking mine?” he asked, a feral grin curling the edges of his mouth as he caught your eye. “Want me to tattoo ‘Property of Steve Rogers’ over this cunt?” Still holding your gaze captive with his own, he brought his thick cock down on your clit, giving it a hard smack and making you jerk as pleasure and a tiny bit of pain surged through you.

He chuckled darkly at your reaction, then refocused on where his cock pressed against your hole. He pushed until the broad head slipped inside your dripping pussy, your walls stretching and enveloping him, drawing ragged moans from both of you. “Let’s see you try to pick up other guys with my name branded on your skin,” he muttered almost as if to himself, gritting his teeth as he slowly pushed deeper, making you take inch after inch of his thick cock.

“Oh god, Steve, fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” you babbled, his possessive words making you moan almost as much as the feel of him stretching your tight hole. Maybe it was the way it felt like he was reconstructing you, altering your body to fit himself inside, but the thought of having his name branded on you didn’t sound half bad. It was possessive, but in that moment you wanted to be possessed. “Never knew you could be like this, never knew you could fuck me like this,” you confessed, staring up into Steve’s face. His expression contorted in determination and you cried out when he shoved the last few inches of his cock into your pussy.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, angel,” he growled in your ear, not giving you any time to adjust to the feel of him filling you up before he was pulling out and pumping his thick cock back into you. “And I’m the only one who’s gonna be fucking you from now on, right angel?” He punctuated his question with a rough thrust, the tip of his cock battering the end of you, making you squirm and writhe, but Steve just pinned you down harder on the blankets with his hips.

Your thighs were splayed wide, riding up the sides of his body while you clung to his shoulders, one hand buried in his blond hair and the other fisting in his black t-shirt. You felt ruined, he’d ruined you and he’d barely even started to fuck you. “Yes—god yes, Steve, only you,” you answered easily, knowing no one else would ever be able to fuck you the way your friend could. “Do whatever you want with my body, it’s yours, all of it—every hole, every inch is yours.”

A pleased grin pulled up the corners of Steve’s mouth and when he kissed you, you could feel it against your lips before he sank into you. The sweep of his tongue in your mouth was possessive and you melted into him, loving the feel of him claiming you with his lips. When he pulled away, he dropped a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth and only then did you realize you were smiling, so happy to be his.

Steve thrust into you hard, and your mouth fell open around a loud moan. “That’s my girl, such a sweet little slut,” he mumbled as he sat up on his knees. From beside you, Steve snatched up the phone and he swiped to the camera, holding the device above your body and angling it to get all of you in the shot.

For a moment, you were puzzled when the flash didn’t turn on, but you didn’t have long to ponder it when he was working your body so expertly. Your friend pulled his cock out slowly, dragging his thickness against your stretched walls, making you feel every inch of him. Without warning, Steve thrust back inside, filling you up with a quick, brutal stroke. Your spine curved and your eyes rolled back in your head as your lips parted in a lusty moan. Distractedly, you were aware of a quick flash of light.

When you settled, as much as you could with his giant cock stuffed so deep in your pussy you felt like you could feel him in your stomach, you looked up at Steve. He wore an eager grin. “See how pretty you look stretched out and cock-drunk for me,” he said, turning the phone so you could see the photo he’d taken.

There you were, and you looked positively debauched. Your legs were spread wide and forced open around Steve’s strong thighs, your pussy stretched wide around his thick cock. He’d caught you at the exact right moment and your body was arched up toward the sky, your tits bared and nipples peaked. But it was your face that really conveyed how much pleasure you were in in that moment—your mouth was slack, your tongue nearly hanging out over your bottom lip and your eyes were rolled back in your head so only the whites were visible. It was easily the most sensual photo that had ever been taken of you and you loved it, your eyes looking at it greedily as your pussy gushed with more arousal.

Too soon, Steve turned the phone back to himself, and you could see the same hunger in his blue gaze as he stared at the photo. He loved it just as much as you did, maybe even more. “Look so hot, angel, such a pretty little fucktoy,” he murmured. Then his gaze fixed on you, spread out beneath him and he tilted his head to the side as if considering something.

You squirmed, wanting him to move, but also wanting to know what he was thinking. Whatever it was, you already knew you’d agree. You’d agree to anything Steve said or asked you to do if it meant he’d fuck you with that big cock of his.

“Should I send this to Bucky, angel?” he asked, and you froze. Steve’s eyes were bright and intense as he watched you for your reaction.

Of all the things you’d thought he might say, that wasn’t one of them. Since entering the woods with Steve, you’d forgotten Bucky even existed and you couldn’t believe you’d considered letting him fuck you instead of your closest guy friend. You felt a little ashamed at how you’d almost thrown yourself at the brown-haired man and you felt your face flush with heat.

“He told me how needy you were acting with him, how you practically humped his leg in the kitchen,” Steve said in a conversational tone and you stared at him hard. For how possessive he’d acted, you expected him to be angry and jealous, but he just seemed amused. He must’ve seen your confusion written all over your face because he grinned and explained. “I know how he looks at you, angel, I know he’d love to get inside your sweet little pussy.” Steve placed his free hand down over your pelvis, the gesture so fucking possessive it took your breath away. “But I also know he wouldn’t touch you without my permission.”

You shivered at the certainty in Steve’s voice, goosebumps rising all over your skin at the implication of his words. Not only had he and his best friend both talked about how much they wanted to fuck you, but Steve had wanted you enough to lay claim to you to his friends. It was in that moment you realized this was far more than a one night stand to Steve and you immediately felt relieved. If he was telling his friends to back off, he wanted more and you decided you were only too happy to give him more.

Steve was grinning down at you as he watched you process what he’d told you, going on when it seemed he had your attention again. “Bucky was nice enough to help me set all this up and get you out here,” Steve explained, gesturing around at the blankets in the woods. “I think he deserves a little thank you, don’t you? Should we show him exactly how much of a needy little slut you are, letting me raw you in the woods?” There was a teasing curve to Steve’s grin, like he didn’t expect you to say yes.

But, for how long you and Steve had been friends, he didn’t know everything about you, and he clearly didn’t anticipate how his words, his suggestion, would make you burn with need. The thought of him telling his friends not to touch you because you were his before he’d even had you was hot enough, but the idea of him rubbing it in Bucky’s face by sending his best friend the photo he’d taken of you fucked out on his cock was even hotter. “Do it,” you said, looking Steve dead in the eye. “This body is yours, Steve, if you want to share it with Bucky, then do it.”

Steve’s face went slack with surprise and it was his turn to freeze. His face was still except for his eyes, which raced around your expression, trying to gauge if you were serious or not. After a moment, as if he came to a decision, he ordered, “Remind me of your safe word, angel.”

You titled your head in confusion but replied obediently. “Sidney.” Then you pressed your lips into a firm line and raised an eyebrow in a challenge.

Leaning down over you, Steve kissed your lips until you relented, melting under him. When he pulled away, he didn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours and looking you in the eye. “You can use it at any time about anything,” he reminded you. “If you don’t like something I say or something I say I’m going to do, you have to promise me you’ll use it."

Pouting, you said, “I’m not gonna use it, Steve.” When you lifted up, trying to capture his lips in another kiss, he backed off and you whined softly. “Fuck, just send the photo to Bucky,” you muttered exasperatedly, flopping back on the blankets. “I want you to—the thought of him seeing me stuffed full of your cock makes me so wet,” you groaned, your pussy clenching down on his thick length.

Steve’s hips rutted into you reflexively, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to still. “You’re not thinking straight, you’re thinking with your pussy,” he accused through his clenched jaw, the words coming out harsh.

You bucked your hips, fucking yourself on his cock for a few strokes before he settled his weight more firmly on top of you, pinning you to the blankets. “How is this different to me telling you to raw me?” you demanded, getting more and more frustrated with every moment he spent not fucking you. “Sending a pic of me to Bucky is less risky, if you think about it.”

Expression contorting into one of irritation, Steve stared down at you. “You think I’d actually risk knocking you up?” he asked, but didn’t give you time to answer before he went on. “I know you’re on birth control because you complained about it to me—you also told me when you got tested after your last partner and were relieved it came back all good.” His blue eyes were wild with frustration as he looked at you. “I’m your friend, remember?”

Tears swam in your eyes at the realization Steve had been listening to you more closely than you realized. When you grabbed his face and pulled him down for a fierce kiss, he let you. He let you apologize with your lips for a moment before he took over, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and tangling with yours at the same time he rolled his hips against you. You moaned into his mouth, wrenching away to pant at the feel of his thick cock stretching you. “Steve!” you cried on a gasp.

He grinned and kissed you once more before leaning up and grabbing the phone. He held it up to your face and said, “Look at the phone, angel.” When you did, the screen lit up and unlocked. For a stunned second you thought he’d somehow added your face ID to his phone, but then the home screen appeared and you realized it was your phone. Steve had been using your phone the whole time, recording you to your own camera roll. He’d only be able to see the videos and photos again if you sent them to him. Your jaw dropped a little at the realization, your heart warming and clenching in your chest.

Steve didn’t seem to notice your reaction as he navigated to the camera roll. “I’m sending the photo to myself so I can make it my background,” he said, but looked to you, only doing what he said when you nodded. “We’ll talk about Bucky later,” he promised, before tossing the phone down on the blanket next to you and covering you with his body, his cock sinking deeper into your pussy.

“Please, Steve, I need you to fuck me,” you begged, your legs wrapping around his waist as much as possible while you clung to his shoulders, holding him down on top of you.

His hips gave a short thrust and you both groaned. “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock, angel,” he muttered, his hands digging under your body and gripping your ass in his big palms, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “So fucking tight and perfect—like you were made to take my cock.” His hands kneaded your ass as he fucked you, grunting with the effort while you sighed beneath him. When you felt his middle finger press against the tight rosebud of your ass, you jerked a little and he grinned down at you. “You gonna let me fuck this ass one day, angel?”

Again, you marveled at how strange, yet oddly good it felt to feel Steve press against your tight hole. It took you a moment to gather your thoughts enough to speak. “Never done that before,” you confessed, catching his eye and letting him see how wild he made you. “But yes, Steve, I want you to fuck my ass.”

The grin that pulled across Steve’s face was salacious, taking all the heat out of his tone when he tsked at you. “There you go again saying this ass is yours when we both know it belongs to me, don’t we, angel?” He raised his eyebrows and you bit your lip, trying to look chastened when you just wanted to grin right back at him. “I forgive you though,” he said, dropping a kiss on your nose. “Since you’re gonna let me be your first.” He slanted his lips against yours and gave you a deep, heady kiss, that left you dizzy and reeling.

You still hadn’t recovered when Steve was leaning up and dragging his cock free of your pussy. With gentle but strong hands, Steve flipped you over onto your stomach, manhandling you into position, pulling you up onto your knees. Before you even realized what he was doing, Steve had you face down and ass up. In the next moment, he shoved his dick back in your dripping wet slit, making you moan loudly with your cheek pressed into the blankets.

Steve bent over your back and ran his thumb along your lower lip. “Open up, angel,” he murmured. You obeyed immediately, taking his finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it, pulling a groan from deep in his chest. “Get it nice and wet,” he urged in a deep rumbling tone. With his chest pressed against your back, you could feel his warmth sinking into your skin even through his t-shirt and the remnants of your dress. “We’ll need to start getting you ready if you’re gonna take my cock anytime soon.”

Excitement had your pussy clenching down on Steve’s cock—you were just as eager as he was. Everything your friend had done to you had felt amazing and you were sure Steve would make stretching out your tight ass feel just as good. Smiling around Steve’s thumb, you did as he said, letting saliva pool in your mouth and using your tongue to get his finger totally wet. All the while, Steve thrust lazily into your cunt, not hard or fast enough to be driving either of you to release, but enough to keep a low heat simmering in your body and lighting up your limbs.

When Steve was satisfied with how wet you’d gotten his thumb, he pulled it out, giving you a smacking kiss on the cheek, and then sat up. “Hold yourself open for me, angel,” he ordered in a gravelly voice, still managing to soften the command with a sweetness that was all Steve. It helped that there was a thread of excitement in his tone that matched the feeling thrumming through your veins.

Reaching around behind you, you grabbed an ass cheek in each hand, spreading yourself obscenely for your friend. Steve’s cock managed to slip into your pussy another little bit, hitting a spot deep inside you that made you shriek into the blankets. With your hands on your ass, the side of your face was smashed into the blankets and you were thankful Steve had piled them thickly enough you didn’t feel any rocks or anything underneath.

“Good girl,” Steve murmured, holding his cock still inside you. Over your shoulder, you heard him spit and a second later felt the warmth of his saliva hitting the crack of your ass, sliding down over your rosebud and to your slit. Steve circled his thumb around your hole, using both of your spit as lubrication to press his finger against you. When the tight ring of muscle didn’t give, Steve murmured in a soothing rumble, “Relax, angel, relax for me, let me in.”

You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the blankets—they smelled like Steve. Not like the scent of the woods and earth that clung to him tonight, but like clean laundry and fresh air. They smelled like Steve when you were on his couch, perfectly relaxed in the circle of his arms. It was easy to calm yourself when you were surrounded by the comforting smell of your friend, and when he was being so careful with you at the same time he was talking to you and fucking you like a dirty slut. Focusing on your ass, you relaxed yourself, letting your body unclench and open up for him.

Steve pushed the tip of his thumb past the tight ring of muscle, wringing a jagged, broken moan from your lips. Your fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass so you wouldn’t let go. He didn’t stop to let you get used to the feeling of his thumb breaching your ass, but took his time as he pressed deeper and deeper. He only stopped once his thumb was fully lodged in your hole. His other four fingers splayed across your lower back as he held you possessively, his thumb hooked inside you.

You felt so full, almost overwhelmingly so, and that was just his thumb. It felt good, deliciously dirty even, but with how much a single finger stretched your tiny hole, you had serious concerns about whether Steve would ever be able to fit his cock inside you there. But you didn’t have time to worry about that because Steve pressed his thumb down against the thin membrane separating his finger from his cock, drawing an obscene moan from your mouth.

“Ya like that, angel?” he asked teasingly. His voice was slightly breathless, and you could hear his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, like he was trying to hold himself back. “Like feeling me fill up both these holes?” He pushed deeper with both his cock and thumb at the same time, making you scream at the feel of both intrusions hitting as deep as they could go.

“Yes, god Steve, fuck, so good,” you babbled, your mind going blank at the feel of Steve inside your pussy and ass. It was all you could do to arch your back and hold yourself spread open for him, eager to feel everything he could give you. “I can’t—I didn’t know—fuck, please give it to me, Steve, please, I need—fuck me, please,” you begged, almost incoherent on his cock and finger. The way he filled you up was almost too much, more than you’d ever felt before with another partner or yourself, but the edge he forced you to walk felt so fucking good. You couldn’t believe you’d misjudged Steve so badly, that you’d thought he was too much of a gentleman to give you the rough and dirty sex you craved, but he was exactly who you needed.

A dark chuckle rumbled up in Steve’s chest and poured past his lips, skating over your skin like the ghost of a caress. The sound was full of sin and promise and a little bit of awe, making you clench down on him with both holes. “And to think,” he began, pulling his cock out of your pussy oh so slowly to make sure you could feel how much bigger he felt with his thumb in your ass. “You scoffed at the thought of me being able to fuck you like the filthy little slut you are."

“Wh-what?” you mumbled. For one impossible second, you wondered if he’d somehow read your thoughts. The way he’d read your body all night and given you exactly what you needed made it seem kind of possible, though even your lust-drunk mind managed to bury that preposterous thought. You worried you’d accidentally spoken out loud, but it turned out it wasn’t either of those things.

“I heard you, angel,” Steve bit out in a gravelly tone, frustration lacing his deep voice. “I heard you on the phone with your friends when you were at my place last week,” he explained. “You told them you didn’t think I could fuck you like a slut, but I knew you were wrong.” He punctuated his last word by thrusting back inside your pussy, making you cry out and jerk forward on your knees. Steve hauled you back against him with a firm grip, driving himself so deep you could’ve sworn you could feel him in your throat.

You felt silly for a second. Of course he’d overheard you, you hadn’t been as sneaky as you could’ve been. If you were honest with yourself, you’d hoped he would overhear and do something about it. Even if you hadn’t been actively trying to tempt Steve with your words, a small part of you had hoped to elicit a reaction. It turned out it had worked, it’d just taken Steve a little longer—and a pair of hot Halloween costumes—to prove you wrong.

“So I figured,” Steve went on when you didn’t respond, setting a furious pace with his hips thrusting his cock into your needy pussy. Your moans were so loud and uninhibited, you almost didn’t hear what he said next. “Halloween is the perfect time for tricks, and I’ve earned a treat, don’t you think?” Steve gripped your hair with his free hand, yanking your head back.

With your hands still on your ass, you were completely at his mercy, and it felt fucking divine. All you could do was take Steve’s cock and listen to his words, and what he said next only drove your need to new heights.

“I’ve been such a good friend to you, angel, I deserve a little thank you—I deserve this,” he growled, shoving his big dick into your slick hole with a particularly rough thrust, making you shriek at the pleasure and pain of feeling him so deep. “Look at you,” he practically cooed. “Bent over for me, taking my cock and thumb in these tight little holes,” he said, pulling his thumb out and shoving it deep at the same time he thrust his cock inside. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened on a strangled scream. “And you’re enjoying it just as much as I am, like a good little slut.” He repeated the movement of thrusting both his thumb and cock into your holes, driving you wild with the sensations. “My good little slut.”

Your heart thumped at the possessiveness in Steve’s voice, but you didn’t have time to think about how far gone you already were for your friend, not when Steve was treating you like his own personal fucktoy and your mind was overloaded with pleasure. “Fuck, Steve fuck,” you babbled. His words made you so hot and you wanted to talk dirty to him right back. “You do deserve this,” you said between gasping moans. “You were so good to me, and I was so wrong thinking someone else could give me what I needed.” On one particularly brutal thrust, you let out a sob of pleasure, hardly aware of what you were saying, just knowing it felt right. “But they can’t, you’re the only one who deserves these holes—only you, Steve, only you!”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled, holding his thumb deep in your ass as his cock plunged into your pussy faster and faster. “You’ll never stick me in the friendzone again, will you angel?”

“Oh god, no, never,” you answered immediately, not even able to fathom going back to just being friends with Steve. If you had to fall asleep in his arms one more time without getting his cock deep in your cunt, you didn’t know what you’d do. You’d have to take matters into your own hands because now that you’d had his cock, you couldn’t imagine giving it up.

“You’re mine, isn’t that right, angel?” Steve bit out through gritted teeth as he fucked you. He was breathing heavily but his pace never slowed and you didn’t know how much more you could take, he was pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. “‘Property of Steve Rogers’?”

“Ye-es,” you agreed on a broken moan, needing to swallow past your dry, scratchy throat before you could say more. “Yours, Steve, tattoo it on my pussy so I’ll never forget,” you babbled, barely caring about what you were agreeing to, just knowing the dirty words made you hotter. “Please, Steve, you own me, I belong to you.”

“That’s my fucking girl,” Steve praised in a ragged voice. He drilled his cock into you fast and rough, his thumb still lodged as deep in your ass as it could go. “You’re mine and I can do whatever I want with your holes—maybe share you with Bucky, would you like that, angel?”

The thought of Steve and his best friend both fucking you at the same time nearly pushed you over the edge, but you held off, wanting to last as long as possible. You felt so good, you just wanted it to last forever. But Steve had burned into your brain the idea of being filled up by more than just Steve’s cock and thumb and it was all you could think about. “God, yes, yes, wanna be filled by two cocks,” you groaned, admitting your fantasy all too easily to your friend.

Steve only chuckled and the sound was pure sin. His hand gripping your hair pulled you back up from where you’d slumped down on the blankets so you were dangling over the soft surface. “Such a greedy little fucktoy, angel,” he admonished good-naturedly, the breathlessness in his voice the only indication of how your body and words were affecting him. But Steve proved once again he was exactly what you needed with his next filthy suggestion. “What if we ignored your sweet pussy, angel, what if I filled your ass while Bucky fucked your throat—would you still be just as eager for two cocks?”

His words only made you gush more, your wetness dripping down his cock to his balls as he pounded into you. “Yes,” you answered on a gasp. You were so close, you were pretty sure you’d agree to anything because everything Steve said sounded good to you. “Use any holes you want, just use me, fuck me, please, Steve,” you bit out around gasps and loud moans.

“Rub your clit,” Steve ordered in a jagged tone. “Rub your little clit so I can feel you come all over my cock like the filthy fucking slut you are.”

Immediately, you let go of your ass with one hand, eagerly sliding it around to your front to do as Steve said. You pressed tight little circles into your clit and, with how close to the edge you already were, it didn’t take long for the pleasure to push you right up to the precipice of your release. But it wasn’t until Steve growled out his next words that you fell over the edge.

“Come for me, angel, come for me,” he urged. His voice was low and sweet, with a hint of desperation that almost made it sound like he was begging. It was that thrum of neediness in your friend’s voice that did you in.

After everything Steve had said and done to you, his big cock pummeling your cunt and his thumb stretching out your ass, while he ordered you to rub your clit and practically begged you to come for him, it was all too much for you to take. You could feel your orgasm swell like a tidal wave inside you and, for just a second, you worried about the devastation it would have on your body, heart and soul. Then, with one last driving thrust of Steve’s cock, he sent you careening over the edge.

You came with a scream, the sound piercingly loud, splitting open the quiet of the woods and leaving your throat feeling raw. The pleasure swept over you, wiping away everything else until you didn’t know where you ended and Steve began. For a brief moment, it felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, weightless and surrounded by it. But then you crashed back into your body and you knew you’d never be the same, your arms and legs shaking hard as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through your limbs.

“Fuck, gripping me so tight, angel, ‘m gonna come,” Steve gritted out through clenched teeth, still thrusting into your spasming pussy, fucking you through your orgasm and drawing it out. “You feel so good coming on my cock.” Steve groaned, muttering, “Fuck, fuck.” His hips rutted against you in short, wild thrusts as he chased his own release, and he wasn’t far behind you. “Take my come, angel, take it—take it,” he demanded and with one last thrust, he shoved his cock deep in your pussy and came.

Steve let out a sound that was so animalistic, you didn’t know if you could call it a groan, but it was so dirty, it made your pussy clench down on his cock. Then you could feel his dick twitch in your cunt, his load spilling into you and filling you with warmth. You moaned, pushing back on his cock and trying to take him deeper, the feel of him pulsing deep inside your core feeding the delicious aftershocks of your own release. For long moments, you and Steve hung suspended together in your pleasure, riding out your orgasms together while his come leaked from your pussy and dripped down to the blankets beneath you.

Gently, Steve disentangled his hand from your hair, guiding your head down to the blankets. With the same tender care, he eased his thumb from your tight behind and pulled his cock out of your still fluttering channel. Before you could fall over, unable to hold yourself up with how boneless and satiated you felt, Steve helped you roll onto your side. He laid down behind you, wrapping his arms around you and gathering you against his chest while you curled up in his arms. He held you tightly as you both calmed down.

The night had turned a little chilly but you felt plenty warm in Steve’s arms. Still, you couldn’t relax fully when everything that had happened and been said between you and your friend kept replaying in your mind. “Steve?” you started in a tentative voice. Without being able to see his face, you didn’t know exactly how he felt about everything, but you needed to know. “If we’re not just friends anymore, what are we?”

Steve squeezed you tight with his arms, his faced buried in your neck. “Fuck, angel,” he mumbled on a deep exhale, his voice a little muffled, but you still heard him loud and clear. “I’m trying really hard not to beg you to marry me over here.”

Your heart surged with happiness and you giggled, the sound light as air. “I might say yes,” you whispered, your hands clinging to his arms around you like you worried he’d try to escape after your admission.

But Steve didn’t try to pull away, he only pressed his chest closer against your back, groaning loudly like you were killing him. “Don’t fucking say that if you don’t mean it, angel,” he warned.

Laughing so much your shoulders shook, you could feel the answering smile on Steve’s lips when he pressed a kiss to your neck. “I do seem to have a problem with agreeing to anything you want when you’re buried inside me, don’t I?” you asked teasingly.

“Mhmm,” Steve agreed with a rumbling sound, trailing little kisses up your neck until his mouth was right next to your ear. “Don’t worry, angel, I won’t hold you to any of those promises,” he assured you, his voice low and thrumming with happiness.

You hummed happily, the corners of your mouth pulling up in an evil grin as you said, “I don’t know, I think I might still get that ‘property of Steve Rogers’ tattoo.”

Steve froze, his mouth pressed against the underside of your jaw mid-kiss. Then he nipped at your skin, making you giggle. He shifted until you were on your back and he hovered over you, his blue eyes shining bright and excitedly in the moonlight. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, angel,” he warned again, his expression reluctant like he was too nervous to hope you were being serious.

Digging your hands into his soft blond hair, you pulled him down to you for a kiss. It started soft and sweet, but quickly turned filthy when Steve licked into your mouth, his tongue twining with yours. He kissed you possessively and left you gasping for air when he pulled away. His blue eyes were still guarded, and you wanted to reassure him. Looking him directly in the eye, you said, “You’re it for me, Steve, I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

He stared at you for a long moment, like he was trying to make sure you weren’t just talking in the heat of the moment. But when you looked at him with all the seriousness of how you felt, a smile dawned over his face, his expression brightening as if he were lit from the inside. “Thank fuck,” he groaned, ducking down for another kiss. You giggled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist.

Steve rolled you both onto your sides while you made out on the blankets. When he pulled back, he looked at you fondly, stroking his hand down your face.

“You’re mine, too, right?” you asked with a soft smile. You already knew he was, but you wanted to hear him say it.

He smiled right back at you, a little bit of self-deprecation in his expression. “Angel, I’ve been yours since the first time you fell asleep in my arms.” He sighed heavily. “I liked being your friend, it would’ve been enough for me, really, but I had to know.”

When you kissed him, your teeth clacked against his because you both couldn’t stop smiling. Laughing, you stared at him with all the adoration you felt clear in your eyes.

“Does this mean you’re not angry about the trick I played?” Steve asked, a little hesitantly, as he trailed a finger over your lower lip. At your confused look, he explained. “With the Ghostface mask.”

Realization hit you and for a second you didn’t understand why you might be angry about that. But then, of course, you understood that he’d been pretending to be a stranger when he’d found you on the dance floor. Truthfully, though, you were glad it was Steve, and you told him as much. “No, if I’m honest, I wanted it to be you,” you confessed.

He looked surprised for a moment before his mouth widened into a happy grin. He pulled you tight against his chest, tucking your head under his chin. You felt his laugh rumble in his chest before you heard it. “Good, because I’ve got some ideas about some other tricks to play on you—some that might involve Bucky if you were serious about that.”

Heat sizzled through your core, your clit pulsing at the suggestion, and your hips wiggled against Steve. “I was serious if you were,” you said, a bit of a challenge in your tone. You could hear the grin in Steve’s voice when he replied.

“Oh I was,” he assured you in a darkly pleased voice. “Now that you’re mine, I’ll give you plenty of tricks and treats, angel,” he promised. You hummed happily cuddling into Steve’s chest, feeling the warmth of him soak into your skin.

After a little while, though, the cold October night penetrated the happy little bubble you and Steve had created and you shivered hard in his arms. Steve dropped a kiss to the crown of your head and then he was pulling you up. He wrapped you in the blanket from the top of the pile, pulling it tight around your shoulders and letting it hang down to your feet. He typed out a quick text to Bucky to ask his friend to gather up the rest of the blankets and store them in Sam’s garage.

Steve led you through the woods, not back the way you’d come but in a different direction, until you broke through the tree line and onto one of the roads that ran past Sam’s neighborhood. Steve’s car was a little ways away and he led you to it, tucking you into the passenger seat before getting in himself. He handed you your phone from his pocket, and you texted your friends that you were going home with him. Before they could even respond, you promised to fill them in later, then shut your phone off.

You fell asleep on the drive back to Steve’s apartment and only roused when he helped you out of the car. He was kind and patient with you as he helped you undress and clean up, both of you taking a quick shower. Then he gave you one of his shirts to wear and tucked you into his bed before sliding in behind you. Steve’s arms wrapped around you and you could feel and smell him everywhere. You fell asleep with a smile on your lips, safe and sound and happy in the arms of your friend, your man, Steve Rogers.

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