My Nerdiest Self

You were splayed on a large bed, still passed out from the chloroform.

Ransom crawled over you and palmed a breast before dipping down and taking a nipple in his mouth. He let go with a pop and smirked.

A length of rope was tied around your left ankle, which he then attached to your left wrist. He did the same for your right leg and hand. The result was a lurid display of your vulnerability. Your cunt and ass were fully exposed, and Ransom groaned when he sat back to look at his work.

Ransom shifted out of frame before the camera moved so it was directly in front of you. It zoomed in on your holes.

“Maybe it was a good thing you broke in that sweet pussy. I’m definitely not gonna go easy on her.”

The small whimper you let out signaled your consciousness.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he sneered.

You were groggy and confused but when you noticed the camera pointed at you, you attempted to get up only to realize you were bound. Ransom only snickered at your pathetic sobs.

“No, no please,” you begged, which only made Ransom harder.

“I promised Andy some home movies, didn’t I?”

“Please don’t record this,” you cried but it fell on careless ears.

You struggled to move but to no avail. When you felt the bed dip, your panic only rose higher.

A startled yelp escaped as two large hands caressed your inner thighs before they moved up to spread your pussy lips apart. You let out a small cry when you felt two fingers dip inside your already sore channel.

“Look at this sweet little cunt. Even after Andy fucked you, you’re still so tight,” Ransom hummed, his cruelty bleeding out from every word he uttered. He removed his fingers, savoring the slow drag across your velvety walls, and grabbed something at your side. He held it up so both you and the camera could see.

Pinched between his finger and thumb was a shiny glass plug.

“I should probably start with a smaller size, but where’s the fun in that?”

Ransom flicked open the cap on a plastic bottle and squeezed the contents out. You visibly jolted when you felt the cool liquid hit your folds and drip down.

You were nearly hyperventilating when a finger prodded your back entrance and you squealed when it pushed inside. Ransom didn’t hesitate to add another, lazily thrusting them in and out.

Suddenly, he removed both and you sighed in relief.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Ransom taunted as he got up. He took the camera off the tripod and returned.

Heat rose to your cheeks when he held the camera with one hand and pointed the lens downward.

When you felt the cool tip of the plug press against your hole, you cried.

“I wonder if she can take it…” Ransom chuckled into the camera as he pushed the toy inside.

You stretched around it and groaned as it went further and further inside.

“I can’t… it's too much,” you sobbed.

He pushed on the plug harder and you screamed.

“This plug is nothing compared to my dick, and that’s going in you after, so you better relax for me, sweetheart.”

When it felt like you couldn’t stretch further, the toy finally slipped inside and your hole closed around the stem. It was still uncomfortable, but the worst of the pain was gone.

“Fuck…” Ransom moaned as he watched the plug disappear into your body.

Before he could give you time to adjust, he was pressing his cock against your other entrance and spearing into you without warning. The shrill cry you let out nearly distorted the audio.

Andy had at least attempted to be gentle, to make things good for you. Ransom didn’t care. He pounded into you like a man starved.

“Fuck! I knew this cunt would feel like a vice,” he groaned as he pointed the camera back to your horrified face, brows furrowed and mouth agape as you groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He snickered and moved it back down. Your swollen lips swallowed every bit of cock he forced into you. Your hole was stretched to its limit as it tried to accommodate him.

Still, despite the discomfort, the pain, and the humiliation, your cries started to take on a different sound, something breathy and sensual.

“I think she’s gonna come,” Ransom grunted.

To seal your fate, he used his free hand to thumb at your clit in rough circles, stimulating the already oversensitive bud. It took no time for you to scream in release.

It wasn’t like when Andy took you. No, the way your body bent spoke of something much deeper and carnal happening within you. Soon, it boiled over as liquid gushed out of you, splashing around Ransom’s cock and dripping down your folds to soak the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, she’s a squirter…” Ransom nearly laughed.

You were so caught up in what had just happened to your body that you didn’t notice Ransom had moved until you felt him slowly pull the plug from your asshole.

Any pleasure you had just felt instantly vanished when you felt your tender hole stretch around the widest part of the plug. You whimpered pathetically, your voice rising to a strangled scream as the toy was removed.

The relief that washed over your face as the plug slipped from your body was immediate, but Ransom wasn’t so merciful to let you enjoy it and immediately replaced the plug with his cock.

He was so much larger than the glass toy, and you cried out with every inch he forced into your sore body.

“Look at that…” he nearly purred as the camera lens captured each second of your torture.

He hardly bottomed out before he began to thrust cruelly into you.

“Think I can make her come like this?” Ransom chuckled into the camera. “I wonder if I can make her squirt again…”

His thumb returned to your clit and rubbed as roughly as he did before, and you squirmed under him trying to get away.

Still, the stimulation was too much and your back began to bow as your muscles tensed. You were suspended there for a moment, almost still in how tautly you held your body. Ransom nearly dragged his nail across your clit in a desperate attempt to throw you over the edge you were barely hanging from.

Then you fell, almost screaming as pleasure coursed through your body.

Feral eyes gleamed at your fluttering hole, waiting for the rush of fluid that would escape but it never came.

“Fuck, couldn’t get her to do it again…” Ransom hissed. “Good thing I’ll have all the time in the world to try… I’m never letting her go.”

Ransom’s thrusts became erratic, and seconds later, he stilled his hips with a guttural shout. He pumped a couple more times into your body, coaxing the last of his cum to spill inside you.

Slowly, too slowly, as if to savor your agony, Ransom removed his softening cock from your overwrought body.

“Fuck… look at that…” He mumbled as he zoomed in on your holes.

Your folds were puffy– swollen from overuse. Then, Ransom’s cum started to dribble out of your wrecked puckered hole.

“I almost feel bad… almost.”

The camera moved up, capturing your dazed expression as you stared at the ceiling, eyes open but vacant, your sweat-slicked and exhausted body, your gentle panting.

“Didn’t think I’d break her so fast,” Ransom chuckled. “Oh Andy, you fucking bastard. I hope your fucked up son's freedom was worth it for you. I definitely got the better end of this deal.” He turned to you and gently stroked your face and you finally closed your eyes. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.”

The video cut out.

Andy laid back on his bed and set his phone down. He found himself watching that video every now and then, on days where he felt he needed to remind himself of what he did, of the life he sold you into.

It wasn’t the only video Ransom had sent, but it was the first one, sent mere hours after the altercation at his office. That had been nearly a year ago, and in that time, Andy had accumulated quite a collection of your suffering– the screams you let out as you were bound face down when Ransom flogged you, dangling from the ceiling with a spreader bar attached to your ankles as he took you from behind, your dazed face as he shoved his cock down your throat. With each new video, he saw more and more of you disappear until you were a shell of your former self.

But the hardest part was watching Ransom use less and less restraints as you succumbed to his domination over you. It was watching him become less aggressive the less you cried. It was watching you respond with less shame, and watching him take an almost sweet joy in it.

In the most recent video, sent only days earlier, you were under Ransom as he fucked you. His hands roamed your body while your legs wrapped around his hips pulling him closer. You let a small laugh escape when he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, and he sighed in content relief when your fingers stroked through his hair. He looked at you almost tenderly before he bent down to brush his lips against yours. You eagerly returned his kiss and keened as his thrusts became faster, and only broke away to beg him to fuck you harder.

To anyone else, it would have looked like an intimate moment between two lovers.

Andy turned off the video as he heard you orgasm, a fully erotic moan filling the room as Ransom encouraged you with gentle praise.

He grabbed the scotch on his nightstand and downed it before pouring himself another glass.

Jacob was back in prison after a college student went missing and was found dead a week later. His fingerprints were at the scene, and as hard as Andy tried to argue he was framed, no jury would have been convinced.

So he sat there, half drunk in his quiet house, your broken cries and blissful moans echoing in his mind.

He didn’t know why he gravitated towards watching those early videos Ransom sent.

Perhaps it was to remember you as you used to be: a sweet woman who was still capable of being horrified by the circumstances she was in and not the dazed and smiling shell you had become.

Perhaps it was to remind himself of what he’d sacrificed for ultimately nothing.

Or perhaps he just wanted to feel something, even if it was regret.

It didn’t matter.

He turned off the lamp and slept, knowing he wouldn’t feel rested when he woke and likely never would again.

***

Note: So this was kinda fucked. Oops.

If it helps, the Reader is “happy” with Ransom. Like, yeah her mind is kinda broken, and yeah Ransom is fucking awful, but he got soft for her at some point so they get to be blissfully happy in a fucked up way. I kinda see it as… the Reader knows Andy will never forgive himself for what he did to her, and she’ll never be the same as a result. The most she can do is enjoy the life she has and take solace in knowing her broken happiness with Ransom will haunt Andy for the rest of his life.

“Why are you so hard up for me to interview him?”

Hunter shifts his eyes away from you, pushing your pens back down in your holder.

“He’s aware of your not so nice articles you’ve written in the past. Kimberly believes it would be best for you to interview him. Make nice. Smooth it all over.”

“Make nice?!”

Pushing your chair away from your desk, you force yourself to calm down. You liked your stories. Loved them. Loved the reactions about his playboy antics and how no one should take him seriously. Half of your readers loved it and the others dragged you through the mud.

“What do I care if Stormies want me to apologize?” Your eyes widen as it hits you. “Kimberly is totally one of them, isn’t she?”

Hunter gives you a quick nod, ignoring your groan and your eye roll.

Of course she is.

“Why do I have to be punished because everyone has a hard on for that self-absorbed fiery asshole.”

Hunter coughs to keep from laughing, looking at your miserable face. He clasps his hands over yours, watching your shoulders droop in defeat.

“It’s a simple set of questions. You’ll be in and out in less than thirty minutes.”

-

It doesn’t hurt all the time.

But the mark on your inner wrist burns, annoying enough for you to turn up the sleeve of your crisp white sleeve to rub at the raised flesh. The aesthetic of your mark always has people talking, especially now, with the thumbprint like mark that your friends love to weave elaborate tales about. It is a mark, nothing else, you’d told them time and time again.

Still, you can’t ignore the fact that it’s getting more painful, the dull ache irritating you before you pop a Tylenol from your bag into your mouth, chasing it down with water. The interview is today and Hunter is counting on you to make sure that you secure some good sound bytes from the one and only Johnny Storm.

It doesn’t matter to you either way.

You still think Johnny Storm is a douchebag, shrugging off your boss’ sputtering while he attempts to defend him on your way out of the office.

“The Fantastic Four?” he cries out behind you, incredulous while you continue on your way. “You really don’t know who they are? I thought you were joking!”

“Sounds like a sixties rock band to me!” you answer him, unbuttoning your blazer on the way to the car.

You meant what you said, smirking to yourself as the town car weaves through traffic. You’ve dealt with playboys like Johnny Storm before.

He won’t be the last.

-

“Listen,” Olga starts, hovering over him as the soft scent of perfume hits him as she cups his face in her hands. “Please don’t flirt with this one. It’s for an independent magazine. You want to showcase yourself in a good light.”

His publicist is going to have a meltdown before he even makes it out of the dressing room.

“Oh,” Johnny says with a grin and a raise of his eyebrow. “So you’re saying she’s hot.”

“I’m saying,” Olga counters, her voice more authoritative before she wags a finger in his face. “That you need to be professional.”

“Fine, fine,” Johnny relents, absentmindedly scratching at a mark on his wrist. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Panties in a twist? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t say things like that on camera. You’re representing your sister and your friends. Act like it.”

“You know Olga,” Johnny begins with a charming smile, leaning against the counter as she tries to calm herself down. “Ever thought about ditching the pantsuits? You look a little uptight. Are you wearing pantyhose under there? You gotta breathe.”

“Storm! You’re up!” the producer yells against the door. “No funny business!”

He snaps his fingers as a flame appears, watching it disappear before Olga’s eyes as she sighs.

“I mean it,” she warns. “You don’t want to get a reputation as difficult.”

“I think it’s too late for that, don’t you?” Johnny says with a wink. “See you in a bit.”

-

You’re barely settling into your chair when it hurts again, your thumb pressing into the mark to alleviate the ache.

“Everything okay, Miss?” the PA asks, handing you a bottle of water.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you murmur, pulling down the sleeve of your blazer.

Truthfully, you aren’t fine. You’re been agitated beyond belief since you stepped foot inside this place.

“Well, well, well,” a voice says behind you. “If it isn’t my favorite journalist.”

You know Johnny Storm by name only and the few pictures but seeing him up close in the flesh makes your throat close up, the mark throbbing as you try to focus, your heart skipping a beat. The mark burns, searing into your skin as you watch it happen.

“No,” you hiss, standing up as he examines his own on his wrist.

“What the fuck?” he mutters, his hands bursting into flames as you stand up, the bottle of water falling to the ground.

It skips a generation, your mother told you.

Soulmates are a gift, she said. Something to cherish.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” you blurt out, eyes narrowing at him. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“So it’s true,” Johnny says with a proud smirk, the fire extinguishing from his hands as he admires his mark. “Looks like I got a soulmate after all. Got a good one too. Lucky me.”

The sound of the slap across his face is heard throughout the studio, the PAs covering their mouths while the producer’s eyes widen.

“I’ll burn it off,” you hiss, storming outside.

Johnny’s laughter follows you outside until the door closes.

“She’ll be back,” he tells the small crowd who watch in shock. “Just like that.”

At the snap of his fingers, he pauses, waiting for the fire to ignite. When he does it again, there’s still nothing as realization washes over him.

“Oh, you gotta be shittin’ me!”

-

Despite the feeble attempts to try to rub the mark out, all you can feel is unease. You don’t want him in your thoughts, eyes closing to get rid of Johnny Storm that seems to attack every bit of your brain. There was supposed to be some divine intervention where soulmates fell in love and explored the bond and the world that had brought them together.

You weren’t supposed to be sitting in a cab, dodging Kimberly’s phone calls and cursing Johnny Storm’s name.

“Where are you?” Kimberly’s demand cuts through your haze, disgust on your lips as you roll your tongue over your teeth.

“Gone.”

“Well, go back,” she seethes, her voice filled with irritation. “The studio just called. You slapped him? Ran out?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

You can hear her hiss of disdain, her bracelets clacking as you continue down the street.

“You get back there and finish the story.”

“And if I don’t?” You aren’t sure where this boldness is coming from but you’re embracing it, eyes still on your mark as you hear her sigh.

“Look, I’ll deal with the repercussions later. This is a big deal and I’m not going to lose our primetime spot because you got cold feet. His publicist called. Johnny wants you to come back. We make nice, we apologize, we get the interview and you’ll never be near him again.”

“Do I keep my job?”

There’s a long silence.

“Kimberly,” you reply. “I’d like to know if I have a job once that interview is over.”

“You will,” she snaps. “Just get back there.”

“Can we turn around?” you ask the driver, tossing your phone back into your purse. “I changed my mind.”

-

Olga paces back and forth, finally whirling around at the incessant snapping of Johnny’s fingers, waiting for a flame to appear.

“Will you stop? Christ, for one second, please,” she begs, rubbing her temples. “This isn’t happening. Do you know how many people saw?”

Johnny examines his fingers, ignoring Olga’s groan of despair.

“What do you think she’s got on me? Power wise. You think she absorbed it? What power do I get? The talent to write her shitty articles about me?”

“Johnny,” Olga censures, opening her eyes. “We need to be reasonable about this. I don’t think she stole your powers. I think it’s a temporarily shift.”

“Ah,” Johnny muses, hopping onto the counter. “Temporary. You sound like an expert on this. Go on.”

“Well, I’m not an expert. I just know a thing or two about soul marks. Your first touch was her slapping you. She quite literally knocked your power out of you. It needs to be a softer touch and I’m sure it’ll reignite, so to speak.”

He rubs his cheek, looking into the mirror. It’s no longer red but it still slightly throbs as he inspects his face.

“Got me good,” Johnny compliments. “I liked it. She’s got a good swing.”

“You need to tread lightly.”

“She’s my soulmate. It’s a done deal.”

“No, it is not and you know that.”

The knock on the door is loud, the producer sticking his head inside.

“She’s back. Can we try not to have an episode of Jerry Springer this time?” he bemoans, slamming the door behind him.

“That wasn’t me!” Johnny calls out, adjusting his shirt as Olga rolls her eyes.

“Remember to be nice,” Olga reminds him. “This is as new for her as it is for you.”

-

You don’t look at him as he slides into his chair, his eyes on you as he clears his throat.

“What?” you snap.

He turns his wrist toward yours, the thumbprint etched into his skin.

“You gotta admit,” Johnny smiles. “It looks really fucking cool.”

“It hurts,” you inform him, stacking your cards on your lap. “This doesn’t mean anything, you know. I’ve heard that sometimes the marks can miss people. That’s what this is. I would have had a… a better reaction than that.”

“Oh, are you apologizing?” He lifts an eyebrow as you huff, studying the cards. As you suspected, they are safe, properly vetted by Kimberly as you shuffle through them. “I forgive you, you know.”

“Why? I didn’t apologize.”

“Well,” Johnny pauses, getting comfortable in his chair. “You could apologize for a lot of things before we’re on the air. Slapping me in the face. Writing those articles about me and my penchant for clubs -”’

“Women,” you grit your teeth. “Your penchant for women.”

“What’s wrong with women?”

“Nothing. Except you treat them like cars. Test drive and leave. I’ve interviewed enough of them.”

“And we’re on in…three…two… one…”

“Thank you, Johnny Storm for being here with us today,” you begin, your voice bright and cheerful. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule.”

“No problem at all,” he replies, giving you a flirty smirk. “Just had to get my bearings. Felt like the wind was knocked out of me.”

Hunter slices his hand near his throat as you look down at your cards.

“The Fantastic Four have been in a lot of positive press lately. How do you handle being such a…” you pause, hating that you have to say it out loud. “A beacon of the community?”

Johnny waves away your question, leaning his arm over his chair.

“Comes with the territory. There is nothing more fulfilling than to help people in need. The world needs heroes, as you well know.”

You smile icily as he winks.

“Don’t I know it.”

“You yourself wrote a couple pieces, didn’t you? I’ve read them.”

Your back is straight as you force the smile to stay on your face.

“Have you?”

“Riveting stuff, let me tell you. I love the profile you did on me. Philanthropist, hero… womanizer.”

Two could play at this game.

“Mr. Storm, I appreciate that you’ve read my articles. You’ll note those are all eyewitness accounts.”

He sucks in a breath, raising his eyebrows.

“Alright, sure.”

You clear your throat, focusing back on your questions before he continues.

“How about this? Since you like eyewitness accounts, why don’t you have dinner with me? Just the two of us and I promise you, you’ll see me in a different light.”

The audience claps as heat fills your face, Hunter nodding as he taps on his wrist, hinting at your mark.

“What she hasn’t told you is that this exquisite reporter just found out that she and I are soulmates,” Johnny grins, holding up his arm. “Lucky me.”

-

“Okay, so that backfired,” Kay says, running to keep up with you. “But on the brightside, your interview hit Twitter. It’s trending.”

She winces when she looks at her phone.

“The reviews aren’t, um, in your favor but they like Johnny.”

There’s a frosty silence in the back of the car, Kay trying to cheer you up. As Hunter’s assistant, you know she didn’t have to follow you here but considering the loud applause he received on his very public offer of a date, you had no choice but to grin and accept.

“I just want to go back home. Back to my little apartment, pretend this never happened.”

You blink away tears, shaking your head at the emotion.

“It’s alright,” Kay soothes, reaching out to touch your arm. “I swear it wasn’t a bad interview.”

“That’s not it,” you sniffle, blinking as the haze clears in your brain. “I… I miss him?”

Kay sighs dreamily, a soft smile on her face.

“Soulmates. That’s so incredibly romantic. Just wait until you go on your date tonight.”

“I refuse,” you tell her, settling back in your seat. “I’m cancelling.”

“Are you sure? If you’re feeling emotional already, I heard you could get sick.”

You don’t tell her that you’re already feeling nauseous, flashing her a smile before you swallow hard.

A loud thud reverberated off the alleyway walls, scaring off the feral cats that lurked around. A small figure was huddled on the ground as three more hovered over them, kicking and shouting.

“Come on, give up already,” a dark haired boy scoffed when the one on the ground tried to get on his feet despite his obvious injuries.

“I can do this all day,” he said before he was promptly knocked back down.

So occupied in their violence, no one noticed the figure that stood at the mouth of the alleyway, shadowed by the bright sunlight behind them.

“Hey!” The voice belonged to a girl. At the sound, the three boys stopped and looked towards her.

“Mind your own business, wench,” the red head spat.

“Make me.” They couldn’t see her smirk, but they certainly heard it.

“I ain’t above slapping a girl,” the third boy wiped his mouth and stomped towards her.

Before he could lay a hand on her, she punched him square in the face, where he stumbled backwards, crashing into a few crates.

The other two boys stared at her with gaping mouths and bewildered eyes.

“You bitch!” The boy got up, dazed, his nose bleeding.

“It’s Lady, actually,” she said.

It was then they noticed the quality of fabrics she wore, expertly sewn together with many fine embellishments. With a sinking feeling deep in their bellies, the three boys realized they had attempted to hurt a noble.

Before any of them could completely react, another boy ran by the alleyway before noticing the commotion and running back. He stood next to the girl, seemingly unphased by everyone else as his eyes scanned the ground.

“Dammit Steve, why do you always do this?” He sighed when he noticed the injured boy trying to get to his feet. Pushing past the other kids, he helped the smallest one to his feet before glancing at the others and rolling his eyes. “You do know this is the Prince, right?”

“Bucky, it’s fine,” Steve slurred, his lip swollen and bleeding.

The deep pit that had already formed in their stomachs only deepened, and their faces paled. Drawing royal blood was punishable by death, and King Joseph wasn’t known to be merciful.

“W-we’re sorry!” One of them immediately begged. “We didn’t know!”

“Fuck off and I won’t tell the King,” Bucky growled.

They promptly ran away, tripping over their feet in their haste.

“I had it, you know,” Steve grumbled and limped as his friend helped him walk out of the alleyway.

“Yeah, well, you might’ve dented your brain a little more if it weren’t for,” Bucky glanced at the girl who hadn’t left. “What is your name?”

“Lady Carter,” she grinned. “Margaret is less stuffy, though.”

Steve stared at her, words lost in his rattled brain. He’d recognized her around the castle when the nobles of the various regions of the kingdom visited, but he never spoke to her. Based on her accent, she must have been from one of the provinces to the east.

Perhaps it was the concussion that was slowly forming, but the way the sunlight shined on her brown hair made her look deceptively angelic. Even if he hadn’t witnessed her deck a boy twice her size with ease, the confident gleam in her dark eyes were enough to show she was not to be messed with.

“Margaret! What did I say about wandering off?” A woman in the distance called.

“Sorry, mother,” she shouted back before looking at the boys. “We’re heading to the castle, if you want a ride? I promise I won’t ask what the prince is doing in the city.”

“Thank you,” Steve said after a moment before he and Bucky followed her.

It was love at first sight.

---

“My dad thinks we should get married,” Margaret said one day, a hum in her voice. Steve choked on his water. “Apparently, your dad thinks so too.”

His face turned bright red and Margaret giggled.

“I wouldn’t mind that, though,” she admitted.

“R-really?” Steve asked, a little too fast and she grinned at him.

“Why not? I think we make a dashing pair.”

It has been weeks since Margaret and Steve officially met, and her family was to return home soon. The two hardly left each other’s sides unless necessary, and rumors of puppy love spread.

There was much to like about Margaret; her confidence, her strength, her beauty. Steve felt safe with her, and though he tried to hold his own, he knew he couldn’t. Bucky had to rescue him on numerous occasions, when he decided to pick fights with kids who bullied others.

Marriage was perhaps too complex an ordeal to wrap his young head around, but he did like the idea of spending more time with her.

Unfortunately, King Joseph’s most recent attack on a small farming country wove different plans.

“I don’t want to marry some random princess,” Steve grumbled when his mother and father informed him of his betrothal. A low growl could be heard– the King was not happy.

The Queen eyed him wearily. King Joseph’s moods were often unpredictable, but almost always sour. When he wasn’t ignoring his family in his quest for land and blood, he was hurting them. He’d slapped the Queen in rage a few times, and nearly broke Steve’s bones on several occasions. The boy often felt compelled to stand up against him, especially when he hurt his mother. It only made the King angrier.

“I know, my love, but sometimes, we don’t get to do the things we want,” Queen Sarah hushed, trying to settle the slowly rising tension in the room. “A prince has a duty to put his country before his own interests.”

“I didn’t ask to be prince,” Steve gritted his teeth but immediately regretted it when he heard the beast-like snarl his father let out. He didn’t care if his father beat him. He could take it. He didn’t want him to hurt his mother, though.

“Well, you are a prince, and you will act like one,” his father boomed, stomping closer to them.

“Please, listen to your father,” Sarah begged.

“... Yes, father. I’m sorry,” Steve said, rehearsed. The King didn’t care if he meant it, so long as he acted on it. It was enough to quell his rage, and he left the room, Sarah visibly relaxing as he did.

“I wish I could protect you more,” she told Steve once the king was gone.

“I should be protecting you,” he said and Sarah laughed softly.

“You do, my love. You always do.”

---

King Joseph had Steve train with his generals the following day, ensuring they would not go easy on him.

Weeks of training turned into months, each season bringing new pain- sweltering heat strokes in the summer, biting chills in the fall, creaking bones in the winter, fresh cuts in the spring… And then it was summer again.

He was stronger than he was last year, a little bigger but not much. He still got into fights with bullies, and still often lost due to being outnumbered, but he could hold his own a little better.

One of the few sanctuaries Steve was afforded was a willow tree at the far end of the garden, near a pond. The draping branches and leaves did well to hide anyone that rested within, and in all his years of finding peace within its confines, he’d never been bothered by anyone else.

He used those few moments of solitude to write letters to Margaret over the past year. It hardly took time for their letters to become playful, then flirty. But eventually, she stopped responding. He was worried he’d crossed a line, but hoped she was just busy.

The small pitter patter of feet alerted him to an incoming presence, and he was surprised to find Margaret ducking under branches.

“Margaret!” Steve couldn’t hide his excitement. “You’re here!”

When she didn’t return his smile, he dropped his. She sighed, and he could tell she was trying to figure out what to say.

“I… I have a feeling your father sent this,” she said and held out a letter.

“What?” Steve asked.

Margaret tilted her head.

“Your last letter. Or… It was made to sound like you wrote it but I know how you write and it’s not like this.” She handed him the paper, and he saw what looked to be an imitation of his handwriting

Margaret,

I bring news of my betrothal to a suitable princess from another Kingdom. It is a good match that will bring much prosperity to Fearann Briste, and as your duty as a lady of this kingdom, I expect our relationship to cease and we remain cordial allies.

Regards,

Steve

“I didn’t write this,” Steve confirmed and Margaret nodded.

“I figured it was your father, which is why I didn’t respond. You know better than anyone how he gets.”

Steve was grateful she was as smart and considerate as she was. It saved a lot of headache for the both of them.

“I… I did ask my mother, though. And she confirmed with the Queen that you are betrothed.”

“To a baby,” Steve hissed. “I didn’t want this, Margaret, I promise I didn’t. My father…”

There was no point in voicing what they both felt.

A beat of silence filled the space, the breeze rustling through the leaves the only other sound.

“He has a point though,” Margaret murmured, and Steve looked at her, surprised. “I don’t like how he went about conveying that point, but he has one. Perhaps we should cease-”

“I won’t have to marry this princess for nearly two decades. I doubt my father will last that long– if his own evil heart doesn’t end things for him by then, someone else will with all the enemies he made. When I’m King, I can undo that agreement.”

“Steve, we can’t guarantee that…” Peggy sighed.

“We have to hope though,” he said and held her hand.

Against her better judgement, they continued building their budding affection.

Years would pass, a cycle of letters and summer visits letting their love flourish into something neither one of them predicted. Steve knew he loved her the moment he saw her nearly eight years ago, but he was older now, and was now only beginning to understand how deeply love could run.

When King Joseph raged and roared, Steve could count on Margaret to offer soothing words in her letters, or her consuming hugs when she was present. She was there when his mother fell ill, and she was there when they buried her in the castle cemetery weeks later.

She’d leave when the trees began to turn orange and red and she’d return the following summer.

On one such visit, she walked right by Steve.

It wasn’t until he called out for her that she realized the tall, built man standing off to the side was him.

Somehow, puberty finally hit him like a tossed stone. Last year, he was still a thin, weedy boy and now, he looked bigger than Bucky.

“What…?” Peggy said, eyes round in confusion and amazement.

“We have no clue,” Bucky sighed when he approached the two. “One day he was a twig and now he’s… this.”

Margaret laughed and Steve offered his arm with a smirk, which she gladly took.

That summer felt different. It felt like hope. King Joseph was ill and had been for a while. The court physician didn’t suspect he’d make a recovery.

“I should be sad,” Steve said. “He’s the only parent I have left… but…”

“He’s a terrible king, and an even worse father. You don’t need to shed any tears for that man,” Margaret rested her head on his shoulder. They listened to the babbling brook and stared at the shimmering water from the veil of willow branches.

“Nearly everyone has told me I should forgive him and make peace.”

“If it will bring you peace, then you should. But if not, why? What will it do other than give him peace and hurt you more?”

Steve glanced at her and she peered at him curiously.

Slowly, he leaned down to kiss her. It wasn’t their first kiss, but there was something different about it. Like that summer, it was filled with hope.

They made love for the first time under the tree. As he held her close, their heartbeats racing in tandem, he promised he’d find a way to be with her.

Despite his failing health, King Joseph still waged war with Sokovia. In a mad and desperate attempt, he sent his own son to the front lines to act as a general in his place.

Steve suspected it was to get him away from Margaret, but it was just as likely the confused thoughts of a dying man. And because the King was obviously not suited to make decisions, as the next in line, Steve ordered his soldiers to cease attacking— a direct defiance to the King’s orders, something punishable by death.

So tight was King Joseph’s fear-laced grip on his soldiers and people, few wanted to risk enraging him even at the command of the Prince.

A captain named Sam Wilson was the first to order his battalion to follow Steve’s orders, and after him, others followed suit.

The Prince pulled his soldiers out of Sokovia. King Zemo was unwilling to meet with the Steve to discuss peace, but he was in no position to attack even a retreating army.

The King was not happy his son defied his orders. Treason, he called it.

He was close to ordering the execution of his own son, but knew it would destroy his bloodline. His wicked mind may have been fading, but he was no fool.

Instead, he devised one more act of cruelty.

In his last days, as the winter frost set in, he declared the Carters must marry their daughter off to the Duke of Keil.

It wasn’t unheard of for a king to order nobles to marry for whatever political gain, but Steve and Margaret were hardly subtle about their affection for one another and everyone knew this was personal.

Margaret looked beautiful in her red dress, a crown of vibrant red roses sitting on her head. The wedding was thrown together in record time. Steve hardly had time to return and heal from his recent battles in Sokovia— his ribs still ached, cuts and gashes newly scared over.

“You don’t need to do this,” he pleaded. “My father is soon to pass, you don’t-”

“Steve,” Margaret hushed him. “If it were up to me, I’d run away with you. But my father ordered my parents to give me away. They’d be the ones defying him if I ran, and they’d be the ones punished. I have no doubt in my heart your father would order their deaths in his last breath.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Steve nearly growled. "I'll kill him, I'll-"

“You won't, my love. Your heart is too kind to do that, even to a man as wicked as him," Margaret soothed and Steve sighed. She was right-- despite the lack of love he had for his father, he couldn't kill him in cold blood.

"I fear he will live on spite alone just to make sure he sees my parents heads roll should I fail to go through with this marriage, and… I cannot risk that.” She placed a hand on his cheek and felt a tear roll onto her fingers.

“I would never ask you to.”

They stood there for a moment.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” he said after a moment of silence.

“It shouldn’t be, but it is,” she sighed, her eyes glistening with tears. “Here, I had this made for you.”

She grabbed a narrow box to the side of her vanity and handed it to him. He opened it gingerly. Resting inside was a silver pendant on a chain, three different colored gems shining at him.

“Red for me, blue for you, white for our love,” she said. “And because it’s the colors of Fearann Briste,” she smiled. “You can keep it close to your heart.”

Steve nodded and slipped it over his head so it rested around his neck, where he could feel it with every beat of his heart.

He could feel it resting there when he watched the love of his life marry another man, he could feel it when his father finally passed away, he could feel it when the King of Onsil refused to revoke the agreement, and he could feel it when he finally met you.

Steve stared at the pendant in the mirror. Bucky was right. It needed to come off.

For nearly a decade, the pendant sat against his chest, a reminder of not just his love, but of the circumstances that took her away from him— the vindictive hatred of a mad king. It was a reminder to him what he should never be.

But he didn’t need the pendant for that. His flourishing kingdom and the promise of peace with Sokovia was more than enough. Being there for you at your most vulnerable would be more than enough.

Sighing, he pulled the chain from around his neck and placed it in a box.

How peculiar that the weight on his shoulders both disappeared and got heavier.

---

The silk ribbon wouldn’t fold the way he wanted, nor would it stay secure. If he fussed around any more, the bundle of fresh daisies would start to look worse for wear. Luckily, a chambermaid entered the room and Steve asked her to tie the bow.

He stared at the small bouquet and smiled. Of course you’d love the simplest flower. After knowing you for the short amount of time he did, he knew you often found pleasure in things people often overlooked. It was perhaps why you were as popular with the common folk as you were. You had no need for extravagance and knew how important the little things were.

Carefully, Steve picked up the bouquet and left for your chambers.

By nightfall, he’d be on his way to Sokovia, leaving you alone for months.

It was the worst time to leave, but he knew he couldn’t. He was grateful you were as patient and understanding as you were, none of which he deserved but accepted in a vow to one day earn it.

As Steve approached your door, he heard laughter inside and the smallest smile tugged at his lips. You’d be happy with your friends there, and it brought him comfort knowing you’d be around people you trusted. A few swifts knocks on the door, and the voices stopped.

“Come in,” he heard you call.

Poppy, Wanda, and Darcy were sitting around you, and Steve sheepishly stood at the threshold, hand behind his back.

“May I have a moment with the Queen?” He asked when no one moved.

“I guess,” Poppy grumbled. Wanda nudged her side and you didn’t hide the smile that lifted the corners of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, she doesn’t hide how she feels,” you laughed softly when your ladies left.

“It’s quite alright,” Steve said, walking closer to you. “I uh… I got these…” He handed you the flowers and a beautiful smile spread across your face. Even the coldest winter day would feel warm under the light you carried.

How had he been so stubborn to be so blind it?

“Oh, I love daisies,” you said and Steve felt his heart race. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Comfortable silence filled the space, occasionally interrupted by birdsong.

“You leave soon?”

“A few hours,” he paused. “I’ll write you whenever I can.”

“I would like that,” you smiled.

Steve spent his last few hours in the kingdom at your side, soaking in all your light until Bucky and Sam gathered him. He placed a sweet kiss on your lips, his gaze holding yours for a few intimate seconds.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said.

“I’ll be here,” you whispered and gave him a small smile, which he earnestly returned.

Day One

It had only been hours since Steve’s departure, but you missed him.

Sleep hadn’t come easy that night, and by the time the sun rose, you hardly felt rested.

“I’m a fool,” you told Poppy, who held you closer as you leaned your head on her shoulder.

“You’re not foolish for missing your husband,” Darcy said.

“I’m foolish for thinking this will be anything more than an arrangement to him.”

“He’s fond of you. I can see it in his eyes,” Wanda mused.

"Not you, too," Poppy graoned.

Wanda had a way of knowing how people felt, and you wanted to believe her since she had never been wrong, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to hurt again.

You bit your lip. Fondness was cruel if it was never able to grow into love.

Early Summer

Summer had arrived, and you enjoyed the warm breeze that flowed through open windows. The air smelled like pollen, and you sighed, happy.

Steve had sent you a few letters. In his most recent one was, he said he was in the last major city before Sokovia. You suspected he must have arrived by now, and you were nervous. King Zemo had every right to hate Fearann, but you hoped he would be able to see Steve's compassion and not who his father was.

Mid Summer

The bodice of your dress started to dig into your skin, even without the corset. Your belly was starting to show and your dresses were becoming impossible to wear. You hadn’t had to worry about them, being bedridden, but Doctor Cho finally gave you the clear to go for short walks. Fearann’s style of dress was less accommodating and you’d have to have more clothes made as your pregnancy progressed.

Poppy was less than thrilled that you stayed away from the dresses she had brought for you.

“Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to wear them,” you said as you ran a hand over the delicate pale silks. “But things have been… difficult here and I’m trying to make it as easy as possible. I know it’s just clothes but-”

“I understand,” Poppy said with a small sigh. “I forget you have less freedom in certain things than the rest of us.”

She smiled at you and you pulled her in for a hug.

Late Summer

How you could get heavier every day was beyond you, and you wondered how women did this multiple times.

As you sat in your bath, flowers floating in the soothing water, you felt something jolt you from within. A moment later, it did it again.

You gingerly placed your hand on your swollen belly and felt the little flutter once more.

Alone in the bath, you felt tears run down your face.

“Hey there,” you whispered and your baby kicked once more. You laughed, happier than you’ve ever been. The joy was short lived when you nearly called for Steve and remembered he couldn’t answer.

You wished he was there.

Early Fall

Steve’s horse galloped through the city, to the castle. He’d decided to go by horse in the last few days of the journey home, wanting to get back as soon as he could.

Servants and nobles alike greeted him as he ran past, and he offered quick regards and polite phrases in passing. He’d have to time address everyone later. It had been nearly five months since he last saw you, and he wanted to waste no time in returning to your side.

It was nearly Autumn now, the Summer sun already weakened, succumbing to the chill that was to come.

Steve all but ran into your chambers, but you weren’t there. He felt numb for a moment, pure panic coursing through his veins.

But then he heard your voice behind him.

“You’re back!”

You sounded happy, genuinely excited to see him, and just like that, the exhaustion he felt from his journey dissipated.

He turned around and there you were, standing at the threshold. Your stomach was round. How much had he missed in his absence?

“Why are you up?” He sputtered out, immediately kicking himself for his lack of grace. “I mean, I’m very glad to see you, but should you be up, is it safe?”

You laughed softly and Steve visibly relaxed. You found humor in his flustered moments, and he liked that you felt comfortable enough to express that.

“Dr. Cho said it was fine, for short walks to get fresh air,” you said and walked towards your bed, which he helped you onto. “Please, tell me about your trip.”

“Tell me how you’ve been first. How you’ve both been.”

You looked at him tenderly then, a warmth in your eyes that he’d missed in the cold lands he’d just returned from.

“My back always hurts now, and I feel sick all the time,” you started, and Steve felt his stomach sink. He should have been here for you. “But it hasn’t been too bad, or eventful. Poppy, Wanda, and Darcy have kept me from going restless in these walls. The farms had a bountiful summer harvest, and the kids at Penelope’s school are happy. It’s been… peaceful.”

Steve sighed, relieved.

“I’m so happy to hear that.”

“Dr. Cho thinks I have a month, maybe two left, and I’m ready for this baby to come out,” you sighed and Steve smiled. “Now, tell me about your trip.”

“I managed to survive hearing Sam and Bucky bicker for a month straight on the journey over,” Steve sighed and you laughed. “I felt determined to make peace, if only to avoid ever taking that trip again.”

“Yes, Wanda told me it was a rather difficult one, especially through the mountains. Were negotiations successful?”

“I think so. King Zemo is still weary, and I hardly blame him. I think we have to prove we have changed as a country before any real progress can be made, but for now, we have agreed on tentative peace.”

“That’s wonderful! I-”

You paused and Steve tensed, alarmed.

“What is it? Do you need something?”

You shook your head and grabbed his hand. You pressed it to the side of your stomach, where he felt little fluttering beats under your skin.

“Is that? Are they…?”

The little beats picked up.

“I think they like your voice,” you smiled.

Steve kneeled down, quiet in his amazement.

“How long have they been moving?”

“A few months now.”

“I wish I could have been here when it first happened,” he said mournfully.

“You’re here now.”

---

You wandered around the garden, enjoying the last of the Summer greens. The air was chilly, and you hugged the thick shawl close to your body.

Steve was in a meeting with his council but assured you he’d come to see you as soon as he could. Poppy and Wanda left to visit the school some time ago and could be back any moment. Still, the walls were making you restless and you needed to get fresh air.

Of course, you should have known you couldn't have one moment of peace to yourself in the castle.

“My my, what a rate sight,” Amelia’s shrill voice cut through the air. “Oh, it must be nice to have the King back? He must be thrilled to see how big you’ve become.”

You rolled your eyes, not even giving her the satisfaction of an answer before you headed back into the warmth of the castle.

“I must say, you’re rather relaxed given the King’s… Oh never mind,” Amelia said in a sing-song voice as you walked past her.

It was bait and you knew it. Still, you asked.

“Given what?”

“Well, didn’t you know? I would’ve thought you knew our geography by now. Keil is on the way to Sokovia. It’s only a few days' carriage ride from here– hardly a detour. I wonder if the King stopped by to say hi?”

Before her words could really settle in, you heard footsteps rush towards you.

“Don’t you have something to do? Like shed your skin?” Poppy nearly growled as she approached.

Amelia looked indignant, pinched face ever proud.

“You better watch yourself. You might be your Queen’s lady, but you’re still nothing here.”

“I’d rather be nothing than a frigid bully,” Poppy spat. “Tell me, Amelia, does terrorizing your Queen help distract you from thinking about how you, despite your title and dowry, have no suitors?”

Amelia stared at Poppy, mouth agape, and you couldn’t hide the smile that broke through your well crafted visage.

“I suppose I’d be miserable under those circumstances, too,” Poppy sighed, mock concern in her voice.

She pulled you away from the speechless Duchess, and you laughed quietly.

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Yes, but do feel free to tell me again,” she smirked and you gave her a warm smile.

Despite the pure joy you felt at Poppy’s brutal rebuttal towards Amelia, once you were alone in your chambers, your mind wandered to what the duchess told you.

Indeed, Keil was on the way to Sokovia. Had Steve stopped there?

He’d been so attentive and genuine in what appeared to be affection towards you, but he’d also loved another woman for nearly all your marriage and only seemed to offer you any part of himself when he found you were with child.

As happy as you were knowing your child would be loved by both parents, the selfish part in your heart yearned for Steve’s affection as well. Affection for you, and not because you gave him an heir.

You fell into a restless sleep, your thoughts running wild.

A jolt woke you, a pain in your stomach. It was intense, but brief, and you had little time to rest before it happened again.

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you knew it wasn’t normal.

“Poppy! Wanda!” You called out, your voice tense before you groaned, tears beginning to pool in the corners of your eyes.

---

Time held no meaning to you. The pain you felt made every second feel like an eternity, and you hadn’t realized Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner were both at your side. You vaguely saw Darcy gather some linens, and you blanched at the blood that soaked them. Was that yours?

You heard both doctors tell you something, but it felt far away, distant.

“It’s okay.”

Steve.

Steve was there, and it was then you realized you were holding his hand.

How strange, you thought. Men were typically not allowed to be present for a birth, but you hardly cared. You were happy he was there with you.

You didn’t think you could experience more pain, but it felt like you were being ripped apart. It was nearly blinding, and you thought you had passed out for a moment until the most beautiful sound pierced through the fog that surrounded your mind.

A cry. It was small and it felt far away, but it chased your agony into the ether.

“It’s a girl,” you heard Wanda say, but it felt warbled and distant, like you were underwater.

Your heart was torn. You didn’t care what your child was, you just wanted them to be healthy. But the kingdom expected a boy, and you knew many would consider you a failure for not giving Steve a son.

Your vision was spotty and the room spun around you.

The rest of the kingdom could go fuck itself. You just wanted to see your baby.

Where is she? You said, or at least you thought you did. You weren’t sure if you made any noise at all.

You felt like you were floating away and you tried your hardest to remain focused.

Finally, a little bundle was placed in front of you. The baby was small, a lot smaller than other newborns you’d seen, and she was wrinkly, her little face scrunched as she wailed.

You never saw anything so beautiful.

Despite her size, she had strong lungs. Perhaps it was because each of your senses were dulling, but you weren’t bothered by her cries. They were a wonderful sound.

You tried to reach for her, but your arms felt too heavy, like they were weighed down with sand. The pitiful attempt made you feel out of breath, and your vision began to tunnel. All you could see was her, and nothing else mattered.

Perhaps you just needed to rest. You wanted to hold your baby, but you were happy she was healthy.

Sleep didn’t seem so bad.

---

“What’s happening?” Steve demanded when he saw your eyes close. You were still, so still he wouldn’t have been able to tell you were breathing if he wasn’t specifically looking for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of your chest. It was then he noticed how dull your skin had become, the glow that usually radiated from you gone. “What’s…”

Dr. Banner looked at Wanda and nodded at her. She cradled your baby and urged Steve to follow her.

“I’m not leaving her,” Steve said but Poppy all but pushed him out of the room and into the hallway where Sam and Bucky were waiting.

“She’s lost a lot of blood. The baby came early… I don’t think her body had enough time to prepare for the birth,” Wanda said, her tone careful, even, but still fearful.

“Will she be okay?” Steve and Bucky asked at the same time.

Wanda didn’t say anything for a moment.

“The doctors are trying to stabilize her. You need to wait here to give them room.”

“I’m not leaving her…” Steve glanced at you through the still open doors. You were alarmingly still, the contrast only more apparent as the doctors and nurses rushed around you.

“Let them work,” Wanda said. Your daughter whined, and the redhead cooed at her before looking at Steve. He didn’t need her to tell him to open his arms.

He couldn’t be by your side, but he could still make sure your daughter had one parent holding her in for her first moments in the world. Steve reached his arms out. Gingerly, Wanda placed the bundled baby in his arms.

She was so small, so vulnerable, and though he had only just met her, she was the most important thing in Steve’s life. There was an overwhelming need to protect her, to ensure she never cried, never hurt. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized his father likely never felt the same for him.

He’d make sure she was nothing but loved. You and your daughter.

You.

Steve glanced back at you before Wanda shut the doors, leaving him in the hallway with your baby. With a heavy heart, Steve let the doctors do what they had to do.

The hallway was quiet, none of the men daring to move. Steve vaguely felt someone squeezing his shoulder, but he hardly noticed anything around him. All he could do was hold his daughter close to his chest, where he was certain his pounding heartbeat in his chest lulled her to sleep. No words could convey the depth of his fear, so he remained silent.

---

The first thing you felt was your own breathing— one deep breath in and then.... Pain. Shooting, throbbing pain that felt like it came from everywhere.

You groaned, trying to get up but whining when even the slightest movement shot white hot agony through your body from your core.

“Woah, hey hey,” you heard Poppy and you glanced to the side. The world seemed fuzzy around you. She rushed towards you, smiling. “Oh, thank heavens!” She said as tears ran down her face.

“What… happened?” You managed to say.

“The baby came early… you lost a lot of blood,” Poppy said through sniffles. She gently helped you up and you hissed at the pain. Quickly, she propped pillows behind your back to support you.

“Is the baby okay?” You immediately said. Though your mind was foggy, nothing could keep you from wanting to see the little life you brought into the world.

The doors opened immediately, and you saw Wanda walk in, gracefully gliding towards you, a little bundle in her hands. As always, Wanda knew you were awake and what you needed to feel better.

As she approached, you reached out, happy you had strength in your arms again.

The pain was still a searing burn in your body, but seeing your daughter’s plump face made it all but disappear. She fussed around, making little sounds as she did. Her head moved towards your chest, where she stilled when her cheek felt your skin. You held her close, feeling more at peace than you ever have in your entire life.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered, and you felt tears run down your cheeks. “She’s bigger than I remember. How long have I been sleeping?”

“Over a week,” Wanda said and you balked at her. A week without bonding with your daughter.

Wanda smiled knowingly.

“Steve’s been here every day. He would put her on your chest as you slept, so she’d know what you felt like, your scent.”

You were speechless.

“It was his idea,” Poppy said with surprising gentleness given her usual disdain for him. “I didn’t know he had good ideas, but here we are.”

It took you a moment to process what Wanda and Poppy had said. Steve had done what he could to make sure you could still bond with your daughter while you recovered. He hadn’t needed to, and you were certain most wouldn’t have bothered.

Was this the version of him Margaret got to see?

Had you been capable of thinking of anything else but the baby in your arms, you may have felt that curious mixture of jealousy and sadness you’ve become accustomed to.

The doors opened swiftly, and you jumped a little, wincing at the pain it caused. Steve rushed in.

He looked flustered, like he had run to see you. Even from a distance, you could see the pure relief that flooded his blue eyes, and he walked towards you with purpose.

If your heart could soar any higher, it would have.

Quietly, your ladies left, giving you privacy.

Steve was at your side in an instant. He sank into the chair at the side of your bed, and he stared at you and your daughter. His mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something, before he closed it.

When words continued to fail him, the silence allowed the ugly worry that festered in your heart to overflow and become far louder than you wished.

Still, you felt you needed to express it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Steve furrowed his brows in confusion. “I know you wished for a son.”

“Oh God, I don’t care,” he quickly said and shook his head, eyes wide. “I’m just happy our baby is healthy and that you’re awake,” he added. You felt tears gather in your eyes but you refused to cry. Not in front of him.

“I… I thought I lost you,” Steve’s voice was low, hardly a whisper. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more afraid.”

You glanced at him, and you saw sincerity etched in the lines of his face.

It was your turn to be speechless. What could you possibly say to him? That you never imagined a world where he cared for you?

Thankfully, he didn’t look like he expected you to respond. Instead, he leaned forward to gently cup your daughter’s face as she slept, stroking her soft cheek with his thumb. She stirred a little, lips smacking a bit. Next to his hand, she looked even smaller.

The three of you sat there like that, nothing but gentle birdsong filtering through open windows. A peaceful moment with your new family.

“What is she called?” You asked.

“I haven’t named her, yet. I wasn’t going to do that without you,” Steve said gently, his eyes still focused on your daughter’s face.

You wanted to hate him for how he was being, because he seemed like he cared, like a future in which he’d love you was possible. You needed to believe it wasn’t— your heart couldn’t take more disappointment.

But it wasn’t the time to think about that. Now you had your daughter, and she was the most important thing in the world.

You hummed a little, in thought.

“I must mention,” you laughed softly, and you saw Steve look at you. “But, when we were younger, I promised Poppy I would name my first daughter after her.”

Steve smiled and chuckled.

“I will not be offended if we don’t name her that,” you added.

“Yes, but Poppy will be,” Steve sighed, but his voice was playful. “I dread angering her further.”

“Oh she likes you,” you said before biting your lip.

“You're an awful liar,” he smirked, but his eyes were soft as he held you in his gaze. “But I hope she does one day.”

A moment passed and there really only seemed to be one name that would be perfect for your baby. You knew Steve had already thought of it and likely felt too nervous to bring it up.

“What about Sarah?”

Steve’s eyes soften for a bit, touched at your suggestion. He nodded, his eyes focused on the baby in your arms.

“Sarah is perfect…” he nearly whispered, a slight sheen in his eyes.

It was a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, and you were sure as hell not going to name her after your mother. From reputation and legacy, and especially from what Steve has shared with you, Queen Sarah was nothing but a saint of a ruler and a mother. Yes, that name would be perfect for—

“Sarah Poppy,” Steve said so casually, you took a moment to register what Steve had said. Once you did, you eyed him, shocked.

“It has a nice flow to it,” he shrugged slightly. “And if our daughter is half as… assertive as Poppy is, then I know she’ll be able to handle her own.”

You laughed, but immediately groaned when it caused the pain that you’d been ignoring to spike. Steve rubbed your shoulder, and you relaxed under his warm touch.

“Assertive like Poppy, graceful like your mother. That sounds like a wonderful Queen for this kingdom.”

“We already have a wonderful queen,” Steve said and you felt tears gather in your eyes. You’d let them fall later, when you were alone.

“Sarah Poppy Rogers,” you said. “Yes, I think that’s perfect.”

---

Note: I am SO sorry for the delay. As I mentioned, I've had this chapter written out for weeks now, but I haven't gotten around to editing it. Every time I tried, I disliked how it was turning out. I wanted to get this out to bring in the new year though!

Happy New Year to you all, and thank you ALL for the support you've shown me. Running this blog has been one the highlights of a very difficult year.

Okay! Chapter 7 is gonna be a doozy... it reaches maximum angst! And like, I nearly killed the reader in this chapter so you can only imagine what I have planned…

(also, I couldn't find a decent looking pendant with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires on a solid surface that didn't look like an American flag. So please feel free to imagine that pendant however you like!)

“I was perfectly content by myself,” you retorted, crossing your arms. He was a little prick and he thought that made him so attractive. Ugh, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face.

“Perfectly content? So proper. You woulda thought the Sheriff would have fucked some’a that outta ya.”

Your hand shot out, slapping him hard across the face, his head knocking to the side in a satisfying manner. You probably would have done more, had Charlie not wrapped his arms around you, holding you back.

“Let me go, I’m gonna knock the shit out of him,” you spat. Arvin’s cheek was bright red as he chuckled spuriously.

Louisa and her friend, you never actually caught his name in between all the spit swapping, chose that moment to join the group. Along with Sheriff Bodecker. Of course because you would be considered too lucky if you had one night without him.

“What happened?” Louisa asked, cocking her eyebrow at you. You slumped in Charlie’s arms, surrendering in hopes that he would let you go. He did, allowing you to pull away and came to stand next to her.

“Arvin is a prick,” was all you said. A rumbling laugh erupted from Lee and you glared at him venomously. “Something entertaining you Sheriff?” you spat.

This stopped him cold, his gaze falling on you. You fought to swallow back bile as his eyes scanned over your body appraisingly. Yet you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at the fact that he still wanted you. What was wrong with you?

“Just wonderin’ what Russell here coulda done to piss ya off, Princess,”Lee sneered, clapping Arvin on the shoulder. Those two didn’t like each other on the best of days but apparently, they seemed to have bonded over tormenting you.

“Oh, nothin’ Sheriff. Just statin’ facts. Princess, here, don’t like the truth.” Arvin answered.

You spat in his direction and the Sheriff tsked, shaking his head at you. You fought the urge to spit at him also but that would be pushing your luck. Spending the night in jail was not a prospect you were looking to deal with.

Lee let out a long whistle.

"Fiery thin', ain't she?"

You rolled your eyes, before nodding a goodbye to Louisa and walking away from the group. The temptation to completely lose it was too high and going home was a much better option.

A hand grabbed your upper hand and forcefully turned you. Your hands hit the chest of whoever it was, trying to push away.

"Where you goin' darlin'? I ain't done talkin' to ya," Lee's breath hot on your face as he pulled you in close. The mixture of whiskey and stale smoke turned your stomach.

His blue eyes were sparkling with mischievousness and for a moment you let yourself fall into their depths. Then the truth hit you like a blast of cold water, as you remember just how badly he had treated you.

You struggled against his grip on your arm and the subsequent grip he now had on your waist. "Let me go, Lee."

"I ain’t hurtin' ya. Relax. Alls I wanna do is talk.”

“You don’t have to hold me this close to talk, Sheriff,” you retorted, trying and failing to pull away again. You looked up at him with a defeated huff. The brim of his hat was low and casting a sinister shadow over his face. A toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth. His jaw flexed at your comment. He clearly wasn’t pleased.

“I can do whatever I want, sugar. I’m the Sheriff of this town, I make the rules,” he drawled and you pushed harder on his chest, trying to silently convey your need to get away from him. He wasn’t budging, instead, he pulled you even closer, pressing his soft belly against you. You could feel his cock, hardening against your thigh.

It was hard to ignore the arousal pooling between your legs and it was even harder to admit to yourself that he was the cause of it.

"Well as Sheriff, you probably shouldn't be seen harassing a girl," you said, your voice laced with venom. The bite of your tone made his hold loosen giving you a chance to pull away, creating space.

Your head felt clearer, being out of the cloud of his intoxicating presence. His thumbs hooked in his belt loops as he tried to look sheepish.

"Harassing? Is that what you're callin' it now?"

"Fuck off, Lee. Why can't you just leave me alone? You got what you wanted. I'm not a toy for you to mess with whenever you want to!"

His face became stone and you took a hesitant step backward, knowing your words upset him.

"Oh darlin', that's exactly what you are. My toy. And everybody in town knows it. Don't you see the way they look at you?" He walked towards you, caging you in against the chain-link fence encircling the fairground. "They see you for what you are. My. Filthy. Little. Slut."

Your face turned to the side as he spat the words at you. Tears burned your eyes but you refused to cry in front of this cruel man. You knew people always whispered whenever you were around but deep down you had hoped it was for a different reason than the fact that you had let Lee fuck you in a very public, very crowded setting. Like a slut.

Not finding any words to say, you quickly ducked under his arms and ran. You knew he wouldn't chase you, he had gotten what he wanted. He had gotten under your skin. All the fight had drained out of you the minute he threw everything in your face.

You were strong but you weren't impenetrable. Tears fell freely down your face as you got in your car and sped home, hoping Louisa wouldn't be upset you had left. There wasn't enough distance on the planet that you could put between you and Lee where you wouldn't feel so little but being home was the best option.

It was a few days later when you finally left the comfort of your house to head over to Louisa's. She had come knocking every day but you never answered more than to tell her you were fine but you couldn't come into work. You were hiding like a coward, especially now that you knew what everyone was whispering about.

She opened her door before your fist even hit the wood. “Where have you been?” she exclaimed, grabbing you and yanking you in.

“I know! I’m sorry, I needed some time to myself,” you explained, following her to the living room and perching on the edge of the couch.

“Are you okay?” Louisa was genuinely concerned and it warmed your heart to know that she truly cared about you. “I was worried the Sheriff did something to you, but I’ve been seeing him in town looking just as concerned as I’ve been about your whereabouts.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s bursting with worry. Fucking bastard. As if he could do more damage than he already has,” you muttered the last part but she heard you, plopping down next to you and grabbing your hand.

“What happened, y/n? I notice you tense up every time he’s around and I hear your name in passing but I never listen enough in respect to you. Please let me help you.”

“You can’t help me, Louisa. It’s done. Nothing can fix it now,” you responded, staring down at your joined hands. “He led me to believe he was a good guy and he used me for nothing more than a cheap fuck.”

The words tumbled out of you like a broken dam, detailing every moment of that fateful night, and Louisa patiently listened, patting your hand comfortingly. As soon as you finished, she pulled you into a tight hug, whispering that it was all okay.

“You know what you need to do,” she started, pulling away from the hug. You gave her a questioning look, “You need to get your revenge.”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to get him back, humiliate him, make him beg for your forgiveness,” Louisa explained, and you started shaking your head before she could even finish her statement, “Stop shaking your head! You are powerful and you have the upper hand. He thinks he’s broken you down, made you weak but I damn well know he hasn’t. And he deserves to pay for this shit!”

You registered her words for a moment, realizing there was some truth to them. Lee was essentially a big bully at this point and maybe you could teach him a lesson.

Ever since Louisa put the thought in your head, it was all you could think about. Unlike him though, you didn't want to do it in a public setting, you wanted to humiliate him on your own terms. Privately. So you told Louisa you had decided against it, that you decided to forgive him and so you were inviting the Sheriff to come by.

He was all too eager to accept.

You watched him enter your home with such cockiness and seeing him like that almost made you lose your nerve. He tossed his leather jacket on your couch and followed you through the house.

“Where are you goin’ sugar?” Lee asked, “We don’t need the bedroom. I can take ya literally anywhere.”

“Oh Lee, you’re gonna want to be in the bedroom for this,” you promised over your shoulder.

You sat down on the edge of the bed and he began to advance towards you. He faltered, not getting too far, when you hold a hand up.

“Stay there, Lee,” you ordered, your voice steady, despite the rapid thudding of your heart. His eyes narrowed, not liking this particular turn of events.

“What are ya playin’ at, girl? I’m not in the mood for this today,” he spat, his face ruddy and red with frustration.

You laughed, actually laughed; his frustration brought you such joy and power. You trailed your hands down your body, feeling invigorated as his eyes followed their path. His breath hitched, watching your fingers toy with the hem of your dress, slowly gathering it up. Higher and higher until you had the skirts bunched up at your waist, leaving your legs bare.

Lee’s fingers twitched as if he was holding back from touching you. He took a small step forward, halting when you ceased your actions.

“Do you want to touch me?” His eyes flashed with anger at your teasing tone.

“You know I do.” His voice was a low growl, yet he didn't move. His body stood frozen in his spot.

“Ah, ah ask nicely,” you tsked and he opened his mouth to argue, you were sure, until you opened up your legs, showing him your lack of panties. He swallowed his words, gulping visibly.

Blinding rapidly, he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. “Lee?” you said innocently.

“Yes, please let me touch you, little one,” he pleaded. For a moment you almost gave in. The earnestness in his voice made you pity him. You shook your head, watching his face fall, “Please y/n I’m begging!”

“Are you Lee? I feel like if you were begging, you would be on your knees,” you replied, cocking your head to the side. The inner debate he was having was visible on his features and you fought to keep your composure. You tapped your fingers along your inner thighs, drawing circles over the skin and you saw him gulp again.

Yet he stood his ground, the brave Sheriff, “I’m not kneeling for you. Why should I have to kneel for you when I could just take what I want,” Lee snarled and began to surge forward when you held up your hand. He stumbled over his feet for a second and regarded you with such disdain, “Why do you think you have this kind of power over me? You’re just a woman.”

You sucked your teeth for a moment, pondering his words. Tapping your finger on your chin, you let your dress fall back down.

“You want this pussy, Lee, then you’ll kneel. It’s my body and I’m not giving it up this time unless it’s under my terms. If you don’t want to abide by them, then leave. I’m sure there’s plenty of women waiting to fuck the Sheriff,” you stated, shrugging. It didn’t bother you either way. Sure you’d have to find another way to exact your revenge but you were tired of letting him walk all over you.

Lee regarded you with hard eyes, trying to gauge how serious you actually were. His desperation eventually got the better of him and he slowly dropped down to his knees, clasping his hands together in a begging motion,"Fuck darlin’ please let me touch you!"

"You look so pitiful when you beg. I wonder what those townspeople would think if they knew how easily you fold," you teased, watching his inner struggle. Reaching behind you, you grabbed the camera taking a quick snapshot of the Sheriff on his knees. His face was a mask of anger but the anger shifted when you moved your free hand back towards your pussy, lifting your dress back up. You slid your fingers over your folds, gathering your arousal and circling back up to your clit. Lee audibly moaned and you had to bite your lips from doing the same.

Seeing how you affected him, turned you on more than you expected. You continued toying with yourself as you beckoned him forward with your other hand. He began to get to his feet when you shook your head, "No Lee, crawl to me. You haven't earned the right to stand."

“Darlin’ come on. You’ve proved your point.”

“I don’t think I have, Sheriff,” your voice was a bit breathy as you slid a finger into yourself and Lee’s eyes rolled back at the sight. Withdrawing it, you sucked your finger clean and saw that Lee had begun to crawl towards you.

Snapping another photo, you placed the camera beside you and waited until he’s close enough before sticking your leg out, your foot flat against his chest. He looked up at you with more disbelief like there wasn’t more you could possibly do to him.

“What?” he snapped, instantly regretting it as you kicked his chest. He gave a sputtering cough, glaring at you.

“You’re not getting it, are you, darlin’?” you asked, mocking his pet name, “We do things my way, or not at all. So you’re going to have to play nice. Next rude thing out of your mouth and I’ll gag you.”

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he almost said something before you talked over him, “You will do as I say, or you don’t get any part of me. And lastly you’re going to call me Mommy.”

As soon as that last word left your lips, Lee growled, his eyes aflame with fury. He began to stand up, either to walk out or to take control of you, when you held up the camera.

“You wouldn’t want these getting out, would you Lee?” The smile you gave him was sickly sweet but it did the trick, he slid back down to his knees, “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he spat out. You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head in expectation, “Yes mommy.”

The last word came out in a huff but you couldn’t deny the power rush it gave you. You got to your feet, pulling your dress completely off and tossing it aside. Lee licked his lips hungrily eyeing you, seeming to hold his breath as you came closer to him.

You bent forward, until you were eye level with him, running your fingers over his shirt, popping each button slowly. He stayed stoic, slightly shaking with tension. Your hands gliding over the skin of his chest the lower you go down. Lee held his breath as you pushed the shirt off his shoulders.

“I want you to get up and strip fully, Sheriff. Afterwards get on the bed and lay with your hands over your head,” you commanded, straightening up and pointing to the bed, “Better be there by the time I get back, or you won’t like me angry.”

He sputtered angrily tripping over his words but you left before any coherent sentences came out. His leather jacket was sitting in a pile on your couch and you knew despite his casual attire, he always carried his cuffs with him. Digging through the pockets, your fingers felt the cool metal of the rings. You knew you could have tied him up with scarves and with the control you had, he would have let you but you wanted it to hurt, needed it to hurt.

There was no way you could physically hurt him short of stabbing him so you were going to break him mentally. Some part of you wondered if you were overreacting but the angry side of you was far louder.

Lee was sprawled out on the bed, resting against the pillows, naked as the day he was born. His natural cockiness had almost fully returned and he was watching you like you were the prey again until he saw the cuffs in your hand.

"Darlin' we don't need those. Just climb on top and lemme take care of you," he sneered, his words authoritative. You rolled your eyes and stood at the foot of the bed with your hands on your hips.

"Darling? Really Lee? Are you that stupid that you always forgot the rules?"

"Sugar, I ain't calling you mommy again. I did it once, to appease you and that should be enough."

You climbed on the bed and crawled up until you were perched on his soft belly. His hands moved to grab you but you intersected them, and with a bit of struggle managed to cuff him to the headboard.

Grabbing his chin tight, you forced him to look at you, "If you want me, you will call me mommy, you will beg and you will do what I say. This isn’t up for debate. You got that, darling?" you snarled, done playing games.

"Darlin', come -," he was stunned silent by your hand whipping across his face.

The slap shocked the both of you but the sight of his reddened cheek stroked the fire within you. "What was that?"

He stared stubbornly back at you and impatient for him to crack, you slapped him again. A groan of pain resounded from him this time and the noise excited you.

"You can do it, Lee. Tell me what you want," you pronounced every word slowly as if he couldn't understand you otherwise.

"Mommy, please," he mumbled, the words barely audible.

"I can't hear you," you mocked in a sing-song voice. He snarled, not liking the lack of control. You grinded your wet cunt on his belly, not hard but enough for him to feel your wetness. His eyes darkened as he watched your pussy hungrily.

"Fuck," he cursed, "mommy please!" The words rang louder this time and you smirked. Running your hands over his chest, you twisted his nipples making him arch off the bed. You didn't have to turn around to know that his cock was hard as a rock and probably starting to hurt. You didn't care, his pleasure was the last thing on your mind.

"What do you want from mommy? Use your words."

"Touch me, please! I'm begging you, let me feel you!"

You trailed your fingers down his pecs, his chest puffing up in effort to chase your touch. Your index finger circled a nipple while you bent forward until your lips hovered over his.

"You going to be a good boy for mommy?" Lee's whimper gave you enough incentive to give him an inch. You place a light kiss on his mouth, pulling back almost instantaneously. The handcuffs clinked, his arms straining trying to chase your lips.

Moving off of him, you maneuvered yourself between his legs and sitting back on your feet. Lee kept his mouth shut but his eyes were alight with a fire so hot it would burn you alive if you let it. Your fingers ghosted over his throbbing length, a sharp hiss escaping everytime you just barely touched him.

You placed sloppy kisses down his length before licking a broad stroke back up. Lee was doing his best to stay still, almost like he was afraid you would stop if he made a sudden movement. Sucking on his redden tip, caused a loud groan to sound from the restrained man and you released him with a pop. Lee's eyes shot at you, full of pleading and desperation.

"Tell me Lee, do you need more?" You taunted, lightly pumping him once before stilling, his hips bucking in need, "Ah ah ah don't get needy. You wanna be a good boy, remember?"

Your thumb gently ran over the tip, spreading the built up precum around as you waited for his response.

He was still hesitant, holding onto his last shred of dignity but he relented the minute your touch left him and you sat back up.

"I need more, please mommy. I'll be good, so good for you," the words seemed misplaced coming out of a man of such power like him yet the lengths he was willing to go to astounded you. Lee was in control of so many things and to find out that the man inside was so willing to be humiliated for you thrilled you. Before you grew a big head, you focused back on the ruined man in front of you.

"Will you? Will you do everything that mommy tells you?"

"Yes! Fuck please, I'll do anything mommy!"

“Good boy,” you smirked, relishing in how needy he was. Climbing back up his body, you hovered over his face, “Want to taste me?”

“Yes,” he groaned, the sight of your dripping pussy making him lick his lips.

“Ask nicely,” you scolded, lifting your hips slowly away. Taking his prize away from him.

“Please mommy can I taste you?” Lee’s words were so rushed, they slurred together and he strained against the cuffs again, relaxing only when you came closer again.

You settled back over him, before lowering yourself on his face. Lee’s mouth attached to you hungrily, his tongue devouring you like his last meal. He sucked on your clit and you held onto the bed frame moaning. The man was good with his mouth, especially when he wasn’t using it to talk.

Diverting downward, he began to fuck your drenched hole, his nose nudging your clit. You rocked your hips, enjoying how he ate you out with such fervor. It didn’t take long for you to reach your climax, your hand gripping his short hair as you rode his face.

Coming down from your high, you start to lift from his face causing him to raise his head up too. As if he didn’t want to stop, “Don’t worry Lee, I’m going to make you feel good now. Giving you what you've been begging for all night.”

“Mommy, let me keep eating you!” Lee grumbled. You sat on his belly, leaning down to give him a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

“We don’t have a lot of time, sugar,” you said, moving your hips down, lining him up to your entrance and slowly sinking down. The stretch burned as much as last time did, adjusting to his girth again was a task but one that felt so fucking good. You placed your hands on his chest, swiveling your hips to get used to the fullness.

“Time? What do you mean?” He asked, lifting his head to watch the spot where your bodies were connected. You sat stationary, watching his face get frustrated by the moment.

“Don’t worry about it, Lee.”

“Are you going to move, dammit?” He bucked his hips, trying to get you to move and you slapped him again, reminding him who held the reins of this evening. His eyes flashed with anger and you knew he was close to snapping. You clenched around him, and his head fell back onto the pillows, “Please, darlin’. You’re fuckin’ killin’ me!”

“Lee, you really are dense aren’t you? Ask correctly and maybe I’ll give you what you need.”

Lee growled, a low animalistic sound and the look he gave you was pure death, “Darlin’ when I get out of these cuffs, you better run and you better run fast.”

“You wish, Lee. You won’t do anything because if you do, I’ll send these photographs to the paper. Then your fine little town will see what a pathetic Sheriff they have. One who gets down on his knees to get some.”

All the fight drained out of him like a rapidly leaking balloon and he slumped in his cuffs. His eyes held pure murder but you knew he would stop fighting back. The time caught your attention and you braced your hands on his chest, rolling your hips slowly.

You rode his cock at your own pace, angling and rotating your hips however you pleased. Lee wanted to take control, you could tell by his huffs and tugs on the cuffs but he stayed still. Somehow you had truly scared him into submission that he allowed you to do whatever you pleased as long as he got his climax.

His cock was stroking all the right spots, building you up. You could feel the tightening in your abdomen, soft gasps escaping you as you climbed up to that peak of climax. Lee’s hips bucked up, aiding you, but also chasing his own orgasm. You rolled your hips faster and faster, wanting to get there first.

Your nails dug into his soft pecs, as you reared your head back, letting out an inhuman noise as he hit that spot just right, your vision going white. Your walls pulsed around him as you continued your movements to ride it out.

Feeling satisfied, you slowly lifted off of him, his cock slapping down on his abdomen, the tip red and throbbing. His eyes shot open, shocked that you had just left him hanging. You climbed off the bed, reaching for his shirt and cleaning yourself up before grabbing your dress and putting it back on.

“What the fuck?” Lee growled, glaring at you. You smirked at the sight of his hard cock, dripping precum all over his soft belly. He had been so close, you knew that and you had robbed him of his orgasm. Grabbing the camera, you snapped another shot, and another, until you were satisfied at your mini collection of polaroids.

“What? Did you really think you deserved to cum?” You asked, picking up all the photos you took, tucking them in your purse. You walked over to the nightstand finding the little key and unlocking his hands.

He made a grab at you but you moved out of his reach quickly. His expression was pained as he realized he had overshot and tumbled out of the bed.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” He exclaimed, getting to his feet as fast as he could.

“I have a date Lee, be sure to show yourself out. Lock up. And if you even try anything, I’ll have these pictures printed in the next edition of the Gazette,” you said, ignoring his statement, waving the purse at him. He was tripping over his pants, falling back onto the ground. You quickly slipped on your shoes, hastily making your escape.

You felt oddly smug as you slid into the passenger seat of Charlie’s car. He smiled sweetly at you, completely unaware of what you had done. He grabbed your hand kissing it lightly before driving away. Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw an angry Lee on your porch, watching you drive away.

Taglist:

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@gogolucky13

Bucky went halfway around the world and still couldn’t get away from you. Your taste, your touch, your smell was with him even in his dreams. And that was a vast improvement. He realized that he just threw away his one chance at happiness. He headed back to NYC, and you, after ten days of trying to forget you.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. let you know when Bucky landed, so you were ready for him.

Nat was talking to him as you walked into the common room.

You greeted him “Oh, hello Barnes. Didn’t realize you’d left.”

You breezed past him and Bucky knew this would be an uphill battle.

“Yeah, I needed time to… think.”

His eyes tried to capture yours but you were giving him no play.

“Must be hard for you, so I see why you needed space.”

You went over to Nat and motioned to the box, promptly ignoring Bucky.

“It’s heeereee!”

You waved the small box around and Nat’s eyes lit up.

“Ohhh! Let’s see.”

You looked at Bucky as if you didn’t want him to know.

Nat lowered her voice. “Oh, don’t mind him.”

“I guess you’re right. He wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

You opened the package and showed Nat.

“It’s from PinkCherry. It’s a clit flicker.”

Nat grinned at you and nodded her head at Bucky.

“Oh, he probably can’t even hear us, you know, old men lose their hearing, among other things.”

You and Nat giggled and you couldn’t help but notice Bucky’s jaw clench.

“Okay. But I thought you had that date with the guy you met online.”

“I do. Tomorrow. But I figured I needed a machine that worked to take care of me in the meantime. You can’t trust men for shit.”

Bucky took off his glove at that moment and the vibranium shined in the afternoon light. You cleared your throat, and your mind, of the memory of what that appendage could do.

“Don’t let what Steve did affect your opinion of everyone, love.”

“Oh, I don’t have a negative opinion of everyone. Just super soldiers.”

Nat laughed and cut her eyes at Bucky. He was looking out of the window, steam rising from his head. Him being in the room for this conversation was not lost on her.

“We can talk later, I have a debriefing right now.”

Nat left you and Bucky alone in the common room. You gathered your box and moved to leave when Bucky caught your arm.

“Get the fuck off me James.”

Bucky let go of you.

“Are you going to tell me that you’d rather a toy get you off than me?”

He was trying to summon his 80 year old cool, but it didn’t look like it worked.

It worked.

You gave a good front, because your clit was actually screaming that she wanted Bucky, not some toy. But right now you’d be damned if you let him hurt you.

“What I’m going to tell you is that I’m not interested in you getting me off like some casual jump off and then leaving without saying goodbye. I don’t have time for games.”

You stalked off down the hallway, pissed at your reaction. Damn him.

The next night, you put your best freakum dress and made your way to the restaurant that you were going to meet the guy you met on the dating app, Will.

You booked a room upstairs, just in case. You wanted to try a regular guy for once. You wanted a nice, normal, fucked up personal life with a nice, normal, fucked up person.

Will was cute, corny, but nice, and you were having fun with him on the dance floor. You were trying to give it to him and he seemed to begin to know what to do with it.

Bucky watched you from the bar. He was seething. He couldn’t believe that you were letting this fella believe that he had a chance with you. He felt so bad for the guy that he decided to let him live.

Your watch flashed the comms signal, and you excused yourself, thinking there was an emergency at the tower. As you went to the restroom to call, a hand reached out and grabbed you. You fought until you turned around to see who your attacker was.

“Bucky? What the fuck? What are you doing?”

“The question is, what are you doing, Doll?” His face looked wrecked. You almost didn’t care.

“Wait. Did you just ping my watch? I’m so done with you James.”

Bucky grabbed your hand again and you pointed one of his own knives at his neck. You’d taken it off him in the scuffle.

He put his hands up and backed up against the wall. He loved you even more as you threatened his life.

You pressed the tip to his skin until a small bead of blood appeared. You stared at it, wanting to lick it off his skin. Your eyes flicked up to his.

“You left without saying a word. I'm actually glad that you showed me who you were before I got in too deep. You’re just like your bestie. You can go to wherever he is.”

You pressed the knife a little deeper.

Bucky knew exactly who you were talking about. He who must not be named.

“I’m not Steve, Doll. The only way you’re rid of me is if you leave me.”

Bucky’s hand came up slowly and took the knife from you as tears welled in your eyes.

“Let’s go up to your room and I’ll show you who I am. And then I’ll leave you alone if you want. I promise.”

You shook your head.

“Your promises don’t mean shit, James.”

You turned and started back down the hallway toward the dance floor. You stopped and turned and looked over your shoulder.

“You coming or not?”

------

In the room, you sat down on the bed, crossing your legs and arms, beautiful thighs on display. You made him harder than staring at your turned back and ass in the elevator when you refused to look at him.

“You have 10 minutes. I have a date.”

“Oh, you mean William? He’s gone. Sudden flood in his apartment.”

You glared at him.

“You’re an asshole. You know that?”

“Not too much of an asshole, because he’s still alive, but an asshole nonetheless. And that’s part of the reason why I left. I’m an asshole who doesn’t deserve you. But I want you. So now what?”

You stood up, anger rippling through you.

“Is that it? Is that your big speech to win me back? You don’t get everything you want. You’ve got to come with more than that.”

Bucky stepped toward you, invading your space like you didn’t realize you wanted him to since he got back.

“It’s all I got, Doll. Oh, and the fact that I love you.”

You opened and then closed your mouth, looking at him incredulously.

While your head was spinning, Bucky reached out with his metal arm and pulled you to him. He slid it down your waist to your ass, where it started whirring as he rubbed it and moved it around to the front of your dress, inching it up with his fingers as his palm vibrated against your pussy.

“Did I hear you say you needed a machine to work your clit?”

‘Yes! Oh yes,’ you said in your head, but out of your mouth came, “I hate you, Bucky.”

You murmured it in that sexy, needy way that set him on fire. And then your eyes rolled back as his heated metal fingers slipped into your panties and whirred at just the right frequency to get you off quickly and efficiently. He muffled your cries with a kiss.

God you loved how he handled you.

“I love the way you look when I make you cum. You still gotta go?”

You lowered your eyes, and whispered, “No.”

“Then fucking look at me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You watched as Bucky pulled out his knife and cut your dress and panties off of you. You were dripping down your thighs at this point.

“I love you Doll, but I won’t abide by anyone else thinking that they can have what is mine. Now get on that bed, ass up.”

Bucky hoped this was working. He only had one chance.

It was working.

Possesive Bucky was turning you the fuck on. You did as you were told.

“Don’t. Move.”

You heard Bucky moving behind you, probably taking his clothes off. You felt the bed dip as he climbed behind you and spread your thighs. He swiped one finger up your folds.

“Mmmmmm. Doll. I’ve been dreaming of this beautiful cunt since I left. This creamy pussy is mine. Don’t ever anyone else think they have a chance at it.”

You didn’t say anything and after a few seconds, you received a resounding slap from Buckly’s human hand.

“What did I say?”

“You were spouting some chauvinistic, hypocritical….”

Another smack, and another silenced your words and turned them into yelps of pain until your ass warmed up and you began to like it.

When you started moaning is when Bucky leaned down and started fucking you with his tongue. He pulled you back on his face and you came again in no time.

“You’re mine.” His whisper was gravelly and desperate, and making you quiver.

Bucky turned you over as he wiped his face with his arm.

“I wanna see your face when I fuck you to that realization.”

Bucky pulled your thighs down to meet his. You couldn’t help but notice how hard his cock was, bobbing against his abs. You also couldn’t help but lick your lips.

“You want my cock in your mouth?”

You wouldn’t admit it, but he could read the look in your eyes.

“Maybe later, I’ll feed it to you Doll. Right now, you’ve got to know that you are mine.”

You were two orgasms in and ready for more; there was no doubt in your mind that you were his. But he didn’t know that.

Bucky leaned down on one elbow, hand in your hair and pulling it from the scalp, pain delicious. He took his cock in his hand and positioned it at your opening while looking at your face. He pushed in slowly, savoring the expressions as he tore your soul apart with his dick.

Your mouth opened and you moaned, “Fuuuuucckkkkk!”

Bucky closed his eyes and dipped his head, your expressions too much for him. The thrill of you was causing butterflies.

“Got me close already Doll. I am ready to spill for you everytime I see you. Damn. I love you. You’ve got to know that. »

He was stroking inside you, making you feel every inch of him. He knew how to destroy you. And that’s why you were his.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, and you make me feel so… fuck. You make me feel. You ground me. You bring me back to life.”

His words, as much as his actions, were getting you so high right now.

“Good god, James…”

“I don’t know if he’s good, but he has to be real because this….” He leaned down and kissed you. “... this is a miracle.”

He was stroking deep and completely. You felt molded to him. There could never be anyone else.

“And I’m going to cum inside you tonight until I am dripping out of your pores.”

When he whispered it in your ear and you started to cum, squeezing his cock for dear life.

“Fuck Doll. Fuck. I didn’t mean to make you cum again so soon. How did it happen?”

You could sense his smile, but you didn’t care.

“I fucking love you, James. Against my better judgement, I love you….Oh!”

Bucky didn’t dream that he would hear those words from you. He just hoped to get you addicted to him physically. He leaned up and took your head in his hands.

“What did you say?”

You glared at him. “I love you. That’s why I was so p…”

Bucky cut you off with a kiss, then put his hand around your throat as he pounded his cum into you.

He groaned at the feel of his release, and at you clenching around him. Then he collapsed onto you, both of you sweaty and spent.

He kissed your neck, and then climbed down your body to see his accomplishment. He opened your legs to see his spend seeping out of you. He licked your thighs and pushed the cum back inside you with two fingers, and wasn’t able to help himself from fucking them into you.

Bucky felt your swollen pussy quivering and he smiled as his tongue cleaned you up, inside and out. You tugged on his hair as he began to make you cum again.

“James…”

“If you love me, you’ll let me make it up to you. Love you. Cherish you.”

“Will you let me do the same?”

“I’m not worthy, Doll. But I will try.”

And his lips went to work on worship.

I accidentally deleted this whole fic and had to recreate it. 🥴. Ugh! Let me know. 🙈

Tags:

Your cunt was so warm and red and swollen, having been used by Bucky for the past 45 minutes for his dining pleasure. His mouth spoke the most glorious praise to you, but treated your pussy so badly.

You loved every second of it.

Bucky swiped his tongue through your folds, collecting your taste in his mouth, then he pulled back and looked at it, licking his lips.

He loved being buried in it, knuckle deep, tongue shoved to the hilt, or his cock buried tight and rocking against that spongy spot inside you. However you were served up to him, James Buchanan Barnes could swim in you.

He looked up at you in disbelief. Those blue eyes almost hurting yours they shone so bright. You almost gasped, but spoke instead.

“What? What is that look James?”

“I can’t believe you don't know how you affect me. How beautiful you are. Even when pregnant, especially when pregnant.”

He looked at you quizzically, as if he truly did not understand your insecurities as you peered at him over your new little belly.

“This, this beautiful flower…”

He looked back down at your pussy and leaned down to give another lick, allowing saliva to run down his tongue and drip onto your clit, then rubbing it in like it was precious oil and your skin revered.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm.”

His moan made you vibrate.

Those eyes again.

“Deserves to be worshipped.”

And he switched his long, thick fingers around so that he could insert and curl them to your spot as he made out with your clit.

His eyes looked up at you and watched yours glaze over, then roll back into your head. His hand slid from your thigh to your belly and rubbed, then up to your sensitive nipples and gently tugged.

The sensations melded and you came, for the fourth time, at Bucky’s will.

You lay back on the impossible number of pillows Bucky had bought and closed your eyes, spent.

“I know you’re tired, Doll. Just let me get in there. Keep me warm, Baby.”

Bucky’s mammoth cock was tame and his voice was even. He wasn’t interested in fucking you stupid right now. All he wanted was for you to rest and to be buried inside you.

Bucky’s metal arm grabbed your thigh and lifted it as he grabbed his cock in the other hand and worked it inside you, sighing deeply as you moaned when he was fully seated.

“Fuck! You feel so good.”

“Yes, James, you do too. I feel so full. Love you.”

Your eyes were drooping.

“I love you too, so much.”

He leaned up and kissed your shoulder, and gathered you into his arms, pulling you close against his chest He watched you as you dozed, running his hand along your side, watching your profile from his vantage point and your full face in the full wall mirror that was propped up on your side of the bed.

“You’re so so beautiful doll. Don’t ever believe otherwise.”

Bucky whispered it, and you smiled, mostly asleep. He caught it in the mirror and his dick began to swell at how sexy you looked, pregnant with his child, naked around him, and having chosen a life and family with him.

Bucky dropped his head to the pillow and tried not to get too worked up. He tried to sleep, but he seldom needed it, and now he was excited. And now he was balls deep in the sexiest woman alive, trying not to wake her up.

You were dead to the world. You began having an erotic dream, and Bucky was fucking you from behind, on a boat, the vessel swaying with the tide.

He was hitting it good, pulling your hair and it felt like his dick was twice the size you remembered. He was whispering nasty things in your ear and you pulsed around his cock, orgasm deep and intense.

Bucky felt when you started to dream. Your cunt started leaking around him and you commenced to moving up and down his shaft. He tried to still you by holding on to your hip, but that only made you moan and him swell even more.

“Oh, James…feels so gooooddd. Dick is so big,.. Why this boat? Oh. Don’t care… … don’t stop.”

The realization that you were having a dream about him made him grunt with the effort to hold back. He didn’t want to take advantage of you but… you were calling his name.

Then you started begging.

“Fuck me hard, James… please. Please? Pretty please?”

Your sexy little sleeping voice did things to him, yet he stayed still. You were now fucking yourself on his cock and he was under your spell.

Bucky watched you in the mirror as your face contorted, and when your pussy started squeezing his cock with your dream orgasm, he couldn’t help but push deeper into you, his tip meeting your cervix.

You cried out in your sleep and grasped the pillow. Your orgasm was so intense that it triggered his, and he coated your insides with his spend.

Bucky was undone by you and the power you had over him in your sleep.

“Fuck. Baby. I love you.”

It was a whisper that you wouldn’t remember hearing as you fell into a deeper sleep.

Bucky was panting like he’d run 10 miles, and he didn’t know if it was your enhanced body or his own, but he’d finally spent his energy.

He kissed your shoulder again and fell asleep, still semi-hard inside you. If he died like this it would be more than he ever deserved.

Maybe later you two would make love, fully awake and aware.

But right now you had time.

Take some time and let me know how you feel!

Tags:

With a deep sigh, you look down at Bucky, pursing your lips apologetically. His finger, warm and cool, flex and grip your hips, desperation bleeding through his bruising hold.

“No peach,” he murmurs mournfully. “They can wait. I can’t.” He’s telling the truth. Bucky needs your pussy, his feral eyes focused on your joined bodies.

You don’t want to leave him but you have to. You climb off him, his large throbbing cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Bucky suppresses a whimper, his hand grabbing his cock, a poor replacement for your tight, wet heat.

He smears your slick over him, making a distressed sound in the back of his throat when you bend over to grab your discarded panties off the living room floor, giving him an unobstructed view of your pussy.

His tongue, wet and pink, reflexively lashes out across his swollen bottom lip, his mouth watering as he gazes at your glistening cunt. He balefully snatches your panties from your hands, his other hand firmly pumping his cock.

“Bucky,” you breathe, oh oh he's wrapping them around his cock, softly moaning your name. Your clit throbs at his sheer neediness for you.

Do you have to go to this meeting?

The stupid persistent jingle and the thoughts of your boss calling you to talk about your performance says yes.

“As soon as I’m done, I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

You let him keep your panties, instead focusing on grabbing your shirt off the lamp at least its not wrinkled. You shove your arms into the sleeves, pulling it over your head and make your way over to your desk in the corner of the living room, the laptop facing the window. Plopping in your chair, you take a peek at your reflection compact mirror you keep by your laptop.

You look-well fucked and sweaty- you smooth stray hairs back, and wipe your forehead off with the bottom of your shirt.

Now you look, well fucked but not sweaty- you cringe at yourself before snapping the mirror shut.

At least your notes are prepped and ready to go. Taking a deep breath, you roll your shoulders and clear your throat.

And you connect.

Now

“Good afternoon,” your boss sings, way too cheerful for a mandatory work meeting on your one day off. Your coworkers chiming in with various levels of energy. You plaster on a grin, already knowing that this entire thing could have been an email and you could still be riding his cock.

There’s a round of painful small talk initiated by your bubbly coworker-if you could strangle Clarice you would. This woman drags out every damn meeting, the urge to shake your screen and yell, lets get this shit over with lingers in your throat.

Instead, you nod and smile.

Your pained expression says oh god shut the fuck Clarice, we dont want to tell you about our weekends.

It's not like you can say 'I fucked my man on every surface of the house including the kitchen table until he turned me into his personal creampie, that’s what I did this weekend.' HR might frown on that.

“Oh, I just stayed home, did some cardio, made a pie,” you reply when they all look at you.

You struggle to maintain your professional face. Its why you didn’t notice Bucky getting up from his position on the couch or see him walking towards you, his cock in one hand and his phone in the other.

Your phone flashes. Out of your peripheral vision, you see Bucky’s face on the screen. Discreetly lifting the side up, your breath hitches.

Please let me eat your pussy.

Your eyes flicker over your laptop and you almost choke on your spit. Bucky is sauntering towards you, pumping his thick cock, the angry red swollen tip leaking beads of precum. His mouth open, soft huffed breaths slipping past his lips. He mouths your name and your thighs clench together in response. His eyes only leave yours to send another text.

Please let me.

Subtly shaking your head, you drop your gaze back to the safety of your computer. You have to get through this meeting.

You have to.

Please.

I need it.

Cant cum until you do.

That last one has your stomach fluttering, memories have him whispering raspy and frantic in your ear, one more Peach, give me one more, need ya to cum for me, be good to me and let me feel ya. Bucky never finishes before you.

Never.

A silence falls over the room.

You blink, realizing everyone’s eyes are on you. Your boss. Coworkers. Bucky's blue eyes. You glance at their faces, trying to remember what they’re talking about. Reports? Project? Sweat beads along your forehead.

Shitshitshit.

“Uh yeah, I agree, we should do that.” you say hopefully, sounding more confident than you feel. It must have been the right response because, your boss nods, flashing a bright smile. Your coworker in the upper left corner takes over the conversation.

You sag in your seat, a rush of cool relief moving through your chest.

Until you see Bucky is no longer in front of you.

Where is he?

Your eyes sweep the room. Another message flashes on your phone.

She’s so pretty, peach.

Warm hands slide up and around your calves, lips, soft soft lips, pepper kisses up your knee. Oh fuck, a fresh wave of slick pours out of your throbbing pussy. He groans a hurried yes peach that you feel more than hear, his lips smoothing across your skin. Oh fuck. Your spine straightens and your jaw locks.

Clearing your throat, you smile and nod, melting behind your smile. Shut the fuck up Clarice, let this meeting end, stop asking questions

Fuckfuckfuck.

His lips press into your inner thigh, smell so good, he whispers, under his breath, just low enough for you to hear, his fingers tracing patterns in your skin, spreading your thighs wider and wider until your pussy is in front of his face. Bucky nips your skin and you hide your stuttered moan by pretending to rub your eye ducking your head.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, his fingers spreading your pussy. “I need to taste you, gotta taste you pretty girl.”

You lock eyes with Bucky, his darkening blues are blown with a feral lust, oh he’s going to eat your pussy and you're going to let him. The sounds of laughter filter through your speakers, snapping your head up, you laugh a second behind the group

His wet and warm tongue licks up from your entrance to your clit. Oh god, you immediately cover your mouth, faking a cough. Tilting your chin to the side, you briefly close your eyes,

ohohgodfuck

Bucky slides his hands under your hips and he lifts you up. He inhales you, large dry palms on your inner thighs spreading you even wider. He nudges his tongue through you, savoring you. Soft and slow and sweet. Your taste exploding on his tongue. Your voice floats above him, in control and steady and it makes him grin.

Bucky flattens his tongue, gliding it from your slit up up up to your clit. He blows lightly on your soaked pussy, your thighs quiver and he does it again. He watches more your sweet slick gush out, soaking your seat. “Gonna clean you up peach.”

“Y-yes I’ll have it done by the fourth,” you’re still speaking but he detects the waver in your voice.

Good girl.

Bucky tries to be quiet, he really does but he's a sloppy eater. Long thick licks intertwined with soft sucks on your pulsating clit, his moans muffled vibrating with each flick of his tongue.

Waves of intense blinding pleasure surges through you, your belly tensing as the urge to clamp your thighs around his head and ride his face spirals out of control.

You bite your lip, tamping down your choked sobs, oh god you're close again. His tongue feels so damn good, tears burn your eyes. You glance down and a cry almost rips through your chest, he has his hand rapped around his cock, stroking his thick length as his lips wrap around your clit.

"What do you think?"

Your eyes flit up, everyone is looking at you. Your smile stretches painfully across your face, you don't trust your voice, if you open your mouth you're going to scream his name, you know you will. You nod, your hands moving to his hair.

Don't stop, please don't stop.

"Alright, then if no one else has any questions, we can finish up."

Clarice opens her mouth and you glare at her. The heat from your gaze pierces through the screen. "Uh never mind," she splutters, "I'll email you."

Yes the fuck you will.

"Thank you, have a great day, buh-bye," you rush out, hitting end. Slamming your laptop shut, you drop your head back and let out a thin wail.

"Oh god yes," you chant, grinding your pussy on his face. The pressure snaps, unleashing sultry sensations through you and stars dotting your blurry vision.

Buckys eyes roll back, his mouth sliding off of you, a grunt rumbling in his chest as he cums, thick hot ropes of his cum spilling over his hand.

You go limp in your chair, almost sliding off it. Bucky pushes you back, climbing from under the desk. He gives you a satisfied grin, wiping his chin off.

"Enjoy your meeting peach?"