#senator steve imagine

[scandinavianfairytale]

Filthy

Pairing: Senator Steve Rogers x Assistant Reader

Warnings: This is straight up filth 😅 18+, Rated R 🙈 Smut, including but not limited to: oral, PinV, cheating, power dynamic is askew, age gap...

It was wrong. So wrong. So very wrong. For a number of reasons.

1. He was married.

2. He was significantly older than you. And we're talking about that he could be you father older than you.

3. He was your boss.

You could probably think of other reasons why, but these were the major ones. Yet, it didn't stop you from lusting after the senator. And you tried to distract yourself, mainly with work, but whenever you were alone with him, your knees shook, your core throbbed, and your head felt dizzy.

But you couldn't seduce a married man.

Or maybe you could.

Just not as directly as you would any other men.

In the beginning you were subtle. A button opened there, a skirt too short there. A little moan or gasp sprinkled in between the meetings. A hand lingering too long.

Nothing. There was no reaction from Steve.

So then you resorted to blatant tactics. Before going into his office you changed into the same clothes, just two sizes two small. On a number of occasions you even forgot the bra.

Still nothing. He was driving you insane. After every meeting where you basically offered yourself on a silver plate,.you had to go to the restroom and take the edge off. Your hands felt like cheap alternative to what you were actually after. Even at home, your toys paled in comparison to the fantasies that were playing in your head.

In one last ditch effort, you put on the tightest skirt you had in your wardrobe, a skirt that was more like a second skin than a piece of clothing. Ditching the thong, you entered Senator Rogers office, knees shaking in anticipation of what might happen.

He fucked you that night. Three times. Your head was spinning by the end of the fuck session. You were bent over the table, taken on the floor, on all fours, the couch used for support after your arms gave out and then to properly finish the evening, you got down on your knees and sucked him off.

After that, you were hooked. You were insatiable. How could you not be? The way he looked, sounded, and carried himself was enough to drive a woman insane. Put that together with the best fuck you experienced in your life and you got yourself a proper cock whore.

Steve was preparing his notes for tomorrows speech when a soft knock on the door of his office interrupted his train of thought. Your head poked through the crack and he smiled, motioning you in.

"Why are you still here so late?" Steve asked as he patted the chair next to him, insinuating that you can or should sit.

"Well, there are so many things left to do by tomorrow." You replied as you sat down. Steve picked up his scotch and leaned back in the leather sofa he was sitting in.

"There's always a lot of work to be done. And I know all the necessary things have already been done, so why don't you try again, sweetheart." He smirked.

"I wanted to catch you alone." You bit your bottom lip.

"Oh?" Steve cocked an eyebrow.

"I want to help you. I can see you're stressed and I thought, maybe I could help."

"How do you think you could help me?" You stood up, and you took his hand, guiding it under your skirt. Steve's eyes widened as his hand came into contact with your bare and very wet pussy. Your breathing deepend as his guided hand cupped you, and your tummy tensed in anticipation.

"I think you might be right." Steve smirked as he scanned your face, eyes hodded, lips parted and a little flush in the cheeks.

Beautiful.

"Stand wider. I want to feel you." He commanded, and you obeyed, no questions asked. As soon as your skirt was hiked up, Steve's fingers invaded your slippery hole, making you moan. He started fingering you, and those wet, squelching noises that he loved started coming from you. Plus combining with your pants and moans...music to his ears.

He knew he was bad. Sick, some would even call him. After all, he was MUCH older than you and in a position of power.

But it's not like you were that innocent either. Not when you flaunted your assests just to get a rise out of your boss. You definitely were not innocent when you grabbed his tie, pulling him into a supply closet at the Gala and giving him the best head he's ever had, while his wife was looking for him. And especially not when after just swallowing his cum, you talked to his wife, laighing with her as if you were good friends.

And it's not like he didn’t feel the guilt. His wife was the love of his life. They made a life together. A good life. He still loved her. Steve knew he would always love Peggy. He knows he will never love anyone else, but love and lust are not the same. Missionary sex once a month in the shared bed is not the same as the risky, almost violent, ball busting sex in all positions in all places at all times pf the day or night.

"Senator." You moaned, as you stopped holding back your need and your hips started gyrating against his hand. That. That right there, that was what sealed the deal for him. That was when he realized that while it was a regrettable mistake, he was going to make it again and again. And again.

"Are you gonna cum?" Steve's eyes darkened as he watched your pussy grinding against his hand and knuckles and how your juices oozed out, dripping down his forearms.

"Uh-huh" Your needy voice surprised you. You have never been this needy before.

"Come here." He demanded, his other hand grabbing your hips, steadying them and he blew on your hot pussy, making you throw your head back, screaming in pleasure. Steve smirked before delving next to his fingers, and he started lapping at your juices, savoring the taste like a starved man.

"More. Pleaseee, senator." You begged.

"Call me Steve." He smirked and he stopped everything he was doing, making you keen.

"Steve! Please, don't stop." You uncleanched your eyes, but he could see how much you wanted to roll your eyes in pleasure.

"Better. Now cum, sweetheart, let me taste you, properly."

It took only a few thrusts before you squirted all over his face. He held you in place, saving you from crumpling down on the floor as your knees shook. Steve kissed your pussy, smiling up at you as your breathing started getting back normal.

"Let me take care of you." You whispered as you straddled his hips, opening his trousers and pulling his painfully hard cock out before slowly sinking on him, your overly sensitive pussy, pulsating as it made room for his gritty cock.

"You feel amazing." Steve moaned as he felt your wet walls. You kissed him, pressing your body as close as you could, letting both of you feel the stretch. His hands traveled down to your ass, gripping it tight before he started thrusting up.

"Wait." You stopped him. "You just sit here, I'll do everything."

How could he refuse? How could he say no to you, really?

Sure enough, you got to work, grinding against his pelvis, thrusting your hips up and down, sending shivers and pulses down to your tiptoes. But Steve could not just sit still while you did all the work. He unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your bra so your breasts spilled out. He realized all your cloths fit you now, as opposed to a few weeks ago.

"Before we started this, did you change your clothes every time before coming to see me?" He asked as he grabbed your jaw, making you look at him.

"Yes." You moaned. "I wanted to give you a preview."

"You certainly don't leave anything to the imagination, you dirty whore." He smirked and slapped your tit. He thought back to that day when this began. You nervously entered his office, bringing him the files he asked for. Just before reaching him, you tripped, and all the papers fell on the floor. He was going to help you, but then he noticed how tight the skirt you were wearing was and how it stuck to your skin, providing a visible outline of your pussy. At that point, he had been trying so hard to resist the temptation, but having this clear of a view of your pussy, he snapped. He bent you over the desk that night.

"Fuck yes." You screamed as his hand went to your clit and pinched it.

"Come on, you said you wanted to take care of me. Do it." Steve taunted. "Try harder."

You started circling your clit, while grinding at his pelvis. He could feel you clenching around him, and he knew you were close. He pinched one of your nipples, rolling it in between his fingers, while his mouth started sucking on the other.

"God, yes. Steve-I-" Your voice broke as you squirted again. You bucked your hips a couple of more times, before you climbed off of him and kneeled in front of his opened legs. His cock was just perfect, a little red, soaking from his precum and your juices and so thick. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of Senator's Rogers dick.

"Fuck." Steve let out as you took him down your throat. You were always eager to give a blowjob. You knew guys usually don't get good head and women in general don't like giving head. But you fucking loved it. There was so much power in this.

You took him whole, until your nose touched his hair base. Staying there, breathing through your nose, you stared at him.

"Fuck." He groaned as he looked at you.

Finally, you started bobbing your head up and down his shaft, the noises both of you were making were egging you on. One of your hands massaged his balls, while the other stroked his perineum, making the man above you shudder and thrust his hips further into your mouth. You smirked with your mouth full of cock. It really was a power move.

"C'mon, stop playing and make me come." Steve groaned in frustration, slapping you face and shoved your head down to the base of his cock, making you choke. You tapped his thigh and he let you go.

"Use my throat." You leaned back on your heels, opening your mouth, inviting him in. Steve stood up and pushed his cock down your throat again. His hands framed your head, and he started thrusting into you.

"God yes." Steve yelled in ecstasy. Your hands went to your pussy. One started playing with your clit while with the other you shoved three fingers in it.

"That's it, play with yourself." He shoved his cock faster and harder into your mouth. Like he was fucking your pussy and it made you so wet. It was the perfect sinful melody that filled the office. As you listened to him pant and groan, you knew he was close. His thrusts became erratic until finally he slammed your head down his cock and kept you there as he emptied his sack. You came at the same time, he shoved you down last time, squirting again.

As he let you go, you opened your mouth, showing him you swallowed every last drop.

Steve zipped up his pants while you sat in your own release, still panting. He brought you tissues to clean yourself up before helping you stand up and giving you a glass of water.

"Do you feel better?" You asked. Steve let out a chuckle.

"I feel much better. I think tomorrow's speech is going to go smoothly." He observed you. "Let me take you home. You shouldn't be driving this exhausted."

You nodded before taking his hand and letting him take you to his car. Steve let the driver know where to go, and he closed the door, waving you off, before returning back to his office and cleaning the mess you created.

------------------------------------

Thank you for reading 🙈

The GIF doesn't belong to me 💙

Yeah...so I have no words other than this is filthy 🙈 I'm not sorry though 🙈

#chris evans #steve rogers #senator steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #senator steve x reader #senator steve imagine #marvel #filthy #fanfic #fanfiction

[imaginedreamwrite]

Breach Of Contract: Part 9

A/N: Peggy Carter bashing as usual

You felt anxious before the plane had even touched down. It started with your palms sweating and your heart racing, the steady uptick in beating had been a synonymous symptom of your changing emotional well-being.

Senator Rogers had departed your side a half hour ago, leaving you to get a briefing of the events that would take place the first night you arrived.

He had left for the back of the plane to make a few adjustments to his wardrobe and his physical appearance. In his absence, you were welcome to fall into a pit of anxiety and restlessness, the debilitating awareness that you were going to face the media as both his intern and as some specimen, they wanted to shove under a microscope.

You knew, full well, that the connection between you and Steve had been noted by both likely supporters and opposition.

You knew full well that comments were comparing the kind of chemistry you two had, versus the kind of blasé and underwhelming bond that tied Steve and Peggy together. The evidence of support or animosity had already been noticed through different socials and handles on the vast internet.

However now you were going to have to face it head-on.

Pepper had made you aware of the media circus, of the absolute hell and chaos that would ensue once Senator Rogers touched the ground. It was only natural given the attacks that the other party was trying to unleash on him in order to dissuade the public from voting for the necessary parties to vote him in. It was rather nasty, from what you had already seen and it was only going to act as gasoline for this insane and innate fire that would be all-consuming.

Once he set foot on the tarmac, the press tour started. There would be no shortage of events that would aid Senator Roger’s message for unity in the country, and the need to help each other out rather than turning our backs on each other.

The start of the press tour on the west coast would start the moment he stepped off the plane and the docket had started to take place with the first flash of a camera. Senator Rogers was ready, he was prepared with a level head and an assurance that he could and would handle whatever was thrown his way.

“I hope you’re ready.” Chase had given you a forewarning as the process to off-board was starting. “We’re coming behind him and immediately going to the hotel.”

You reached for the bag you’d packed, one of the carry-ons with little inside other than a quick change of clothes and a few books, hesitating when you felt hands grazing your own. Given the last chance to give you a pep talk, Steve lifted the bag from the overhead compartment for you and set it on the floor.

Inhaling slowly, you focused on the scent of his cologne and the tinge of spice that made you want to turn into him for comfort. He was strong and broad-shouldered but he carried so much warmth with him, warmth that you wanted to surround yourself.

“Take a deep breath, don’t let them get in your head.” He whispered, he whispered gently as if the roles were reversed and you were the one who was going to be facing the onslaught of the media circus.

“I’m scared.” You replied with a mumble, unable to turn and face him, at least not while the doors were prepared to be opened.

“Fear is not a weakness.” Steve had pulled away when it was time for him to settle into his role, and after he stepped away you looked over your shoulder and locked eyes with him. It was only a moment, it was barely half a minute before he had to turn away but it was enough.

And then the door opened, a powerful vortex of questions and the steady click of cameras had come rushing to your ears before he had even stepped out. He had upped out of your line of sight although you could easily detect the cacophonous drone from the tarmac.

“We have to go, we have to face it.” Val and Sasha both stepped by your seat, the latter helping you pick up your bag and the files you’d been scouring over. “We’re right here with you.”

The buzz that you heard on the plane was tepid compared to being on the tarmac with a line of press, different media cycles and online avenues for gossip and information vying to get his attention. It was as if you were in a wind tunnel, being accosted by the piercing noise that hit your ears with an unseemly tangency that made you grit your teeth.

“Senator Rogers reaches the LAX airport with his team in tow-“

“Senator Rogers is starting the tour here on the west coast and is said to be attending a few ceremonies-“

“The excitement for the senator to arrive has boiled over and quite a crowd has been drawn. Now I’ve been told-“

You could remain ignorant to the questions as Steve had stopped by a few press junkets as the start of his tour commenced. However, when you started hearing questions fired off at you, you were not as poised and collected as the Senator.

“Y/N! Y/N do you have any responses to the fans and supporters of Madame Carter who have accused you of interfering in their marriage?” A reporter for a popular online gossip outlet had raised their voice to garner your attention, and immediately you were thrown off guard.

You were a deer in headlights, eyes wide and tongue-tied. Your mind was not cooperating with your vocal cords or your motor skills, you couldn’t move or respond in any possible facet. Rather, you were stuck where you stood with your fingers tapping on the inside of your hands.

And when you finally could speak, when you finally found yourself able to produce a sound, it came out as a stuttering and weak response.

“I’m…I don’t-“ you were steered away, set into the protective side of Chase and Val.

“Ignore them. Keep your head down and move. Act normal.” Chase squeezed your hand and led you off to the vehicles waiting for the support team. He opened the door and watched you slide into the back beside Val before he joined you, the other vehicle held out for Pepper, Sasha and Steve.

“This is madness. It’s chaos-” you rest your head in your hands, your eyes closing for a single moment to gather your thoughts.

You weren’t prepared for this, even with all the warning and prep you’d been doing it wasn’t expected. This was your first real, true job as a PR intern for a major political campaign, and maybe it was your naivety that made you ignorant, but you didn’t know it would be like this.

“The first day and I feel like I’ve been dumped into the Arctic Ocean.” You lowered your hands, watching aimlessly as Senator Rogers approached the lead vehicle and took a pause to wave once more at the crowds.

“We have the night off. Sasha, Pepper & the Senator are going to do a kickoff press conference, so…” Chase leaned in and nudged your arm with his. “Come to my hotel room, we’ll order food and watch B-rated movies.”

“As long as you promise not to start sexting your boyfriend. The last time you invited us over, we got a deeply personal insight into your sex life, and we didn’t want it.” Val leaned forward and directed her attention to Chase, the two of them continuing their ease back and forth until the driver started taking off from the airport.

As the vehicle moved, you leaned back against the seat and angled your head, staring out the window at the masses of people or reporters who were still recording or taking pictures of the envoy.

It was endless or seemed to be and you wondered, at any point, if you would be on the receiving end of Madame Carter’s hatred in person.

“The press tour started eventfully,” the fabricated crooning which once had brought him to his knees had now been a nail upon glass to his ears, “are you enjoying playing with your intern?”

“Peggy quit.” Steve drew out his annoyance with a sharp hiss when his wife’s comments, through a picture-perfect screen, had come across as hypocritical at best. “We’re not doing this.”

“Not doing what, Steve? You’re not screwing around with a younger woman while your wife is doing charity work?” Peggy leaned forward tucking her hand under her chin, her long deep brown hair was pinned to the top of her head in a style that was as calculated as she was.

Peggy was unbothered by the weight of her affairs, by the notion that while Steve wanted to change the world for the better she wanted to acquire an endless stream of power and money for herself.

It was a reality that was more of a nightmare, the idea that she could have used Steve so easily and not found fault in the irony that she was committing physical adultery. Steve, in comparison, felt like he was genuinely falling in love with someone incredible.

“Where’s he hiding? Where do you have him this time? The closet?” Steve blew out the accusation with animosity, and disgust hanging off every syllable until his mouth was coated with bitterness.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Peggy’s lips were drawn back into a smirk, a slow-building quirk riddled with heinousness, “I should remind you…”

His heart sank and his hands were balled into tight fists by his side.

He didn’t need to know what toxic spewing ire she would fire off at him to know that it was another tactic for control. Steve knew that she and her family, who had promised so much for the man who wanted to be a great politician and make a difference, were trying to tighten the strings and spin this discourse between the two of them into a positive light.

“It’s in your little whore’s contract that if she fucks anyone in her circle she’ll be fired.” It felt like a victory for her, Steve could see it written clearly.

Every shadow and highlight on her aesthetically pleasing face, her natural beauty and charisma that charmed more than just him, was now twisted.

Every facet of her that he once loved was tainted and obliterated by this poisonous facet that made him hate her. It was despicable, it was beyond what he thought he could handle. Peggy Carter and Pierce’s were fucking with what little glimmer of happiness he could have.

“Make sure you’re a good boy, Steve. Don’t put your dick in anything that could get you into trouble.”The irony, cruel and twisted, befell him.

He was finding happiness but couldn’t step over the line they drew in the sand. It was a method of torture to keep him in their distinctive clutch, and Steve was caught between letting himself chase the glimmer of hope and squandering it all.

“I wanted to change the world, Peggy. I wanted to do good and be good. I wanted a loving wife and kids to come home to, I wanted the American dream and you-”

“I told you to fuck her, didn’t I?” Steve’s heart sank, the acid in his stomach churning as he rendered himself stuck on this terrorizing notion that if he chased you, physically seeking you, you would be ruined. “Guess you better keep your dick clean.”

He wanted to call her a bitch, he wanted to call her a hypocritical whore for this cage she was forcing him into. Steve wanted to rip into her, endlessly tearing her in two through the screen, and yet all he could do was stare at this vile poisonous snake.

She was fucking every intern she had and dangling up above him like a carrot in front of a horse.

Peggy Carter was holding everything from him.

“I’m not letting you go, Steve. I still need you and you need me, my family, to get what you want. Who knows…maybe when I become the First Lady I’ll give you the whore as a gift. You could keep her locked under the Oval Office to suck dick for all I care-”

Steve closed the screen with a snap, using enough force to crack the screen. He stood violently and reacted in anger, swiping everything from the desk to the floor. Bile was crawling up his throat, stinging his esophageal system from the inside. His heart was thrashing violently as he continued the destruction, seeking an outlet for himself.

And as he finished, as he had spent all the anger he had, Steve slowly slid down the wall nearest the window. He drew his knees up to his chest and hid his face in his hands, slowly exhaling.

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#Steve rogers x reader #senator!steve rogers x reader #senator!steve rogers #senator!steve rogers x intern!reader #Steve rogers x reader fluff #Steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogees x reader smut #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagine fluff #steve rigers imagines fluff #breach of contract series #breach of contract masterlist #breach of contract part 9 #anti peggy carter #Peggy Carter bashing

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

HAPPY 1K!!!! That's SO exciting and well deserved!!

Might I humbly request a ficlet with...

Z. "You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"

and ⭐Celebrity AU

Thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! 🍓

I'm celebrating 1k followers, requests are open

Just how much I'll do

Rated: M

Words: 989

Tags: Celebrity AU, modern AU, rockstar Eddie, nepo baby Steve, fake dating, sexual tension, finger sucking, enemies to lovers

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“Ah, there they are,” Eddie says. “Took them long enough.” 

Steve stops chatting with the waitress to follow his gaze. Something is glinting beyond their window, in the tiny space between two cars on the other side of the dark street. A camera. The waitress hurriedly puts down their dessert and scurries off. Steve watches her go with a disappointed frown. Using the moment of distraction, Eddie reaches out across the table and tangles their fingers together. 

The frown melts into a bitchy scowl and Steve flinches like Eddie’s hand is something gross. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Eddie laughs, loud and unashamed in the hushed quiet of the restaurant.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos. He flips their entwined hands so they’re facing the window, running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion. His smile is wide and teasing as he leans over the table and into Steve’s space. “I must admit I’m a tad bit insulted. I make an effort to look nice for you, take you to the fanciest restaurant in town, and you’ve got nothing better to do than flirt with the waitress all night? Why, Stevie, do you even still love me?” 

“Quit it, Munson,” Steve snaps, trying to yank his hand away, but Eddie holds firm. A few quizzical heads turn in their direction and he’s quick to stop struggling. When he speaks again, his voice is a low hiss. “You know as well as me that this is all a publicity stunt. Don’t forget about the deal.” 

“Sure,” Eddie drawls, snatching a chocolate-coated strawberry from his plate and popping it into his mouth. The chocolate bursts between his teeth and tangy, juicy sweetness explodes all over his taste buds, making him hum in pleasure. The place may be way out of his comfort zone, markedly different from his usual dark and edgy night clubs, but at least the food is excellent. “We go on a few dates together, let our friends out there take their little photos, write their little news stories. After a few months, we break it off amicably - no hard feelings, you’ll always be special to me, yadda yadda. My label gets off my ass about my ‘out of control’ lifestyle, your old man gets to beat those completely unfounded allegations of homophobia just in time for the big election. Look how supportive he is of his queer son, after all. A true champ, a beacon of tolerance and open-mindedness, a shining example for all of us.” 

Steve, who has just taken a sip of his wine, snorts so hard, Eddie’s surprised it doesn’t come shooting out of his nose. He has a nice laugh - pretty like the rest of him, but there’s a bitter little twist to his mouth that never seems to quite disappear. Eddie catches himself wondering what his smile would look like without it. 

“Please,” Steve sneers, putting his glass back down with a bit too much force. A few drops of wine splash over the rim, staining the table cloth red. “My dad’s a bigoted old asshole and we both know it.” 

The hand that’s still tangled with Eddie’s tightens, almost painfully. A small part of Eddie imagines the things Senator Harrington must call his darling son behind closed doors. 

“Makes me wonder, though,” is what he says, “why you agreed to play along in this little farce? Why help him out if he’s such a douchebag?” 

For a second, something pokes through the facade of bored indifference on Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable and honest. Eddie wants to grab a hold of it and pull it all the way to the surface, lay it bare and never let it go again. But it’s gone as quick as it came, slipping through his fingers like mist. 

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and the bitter curl returns to his lips. “Not like you’d get it.” 

He's right, Eddie thinks. He probably wouldn't. He hasn't seen his own sperm donor in twenty years. He doesn’t know what it's like, growing up in the shadow of an overbearing father, constantly forced to uphold your family's image, to live up to expectations. 

But something in the way Steve says it, all haughty and derisive, like Eddie isn't even worth an explanation, makes something ugly stir low in his belly. 

“Oh, I think I get it,” he says, plucking another strawberry from his plate. Steve watches with a furrowed brow how he lets it dangle between them, waving it idly about as he speaks. “I think it must be hard, constantly begging for daddy's love and acceptance, but only ever being fed the scraps. Always so eager, always so willing, but never quite good enough, you poor boy. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?” 

Steve's eyes go wide, perfect lips parting around a punched-out little sound. Eddie grins triumphantly, lifting the strawberry to his mouth. 

But he never makes it there. 

Steve surges forward, fingers closing around Eddie’s wrist. Eddie watches, heartbeat pounding in his skull, how Steve sucks the fruit into his warm, wet mouth. How pink lips slip over his fingers, all the way down to the first knuckle. Chocolate cracks and a thin rivulet of red juice trickles down Eddie's thumb. Steve darts out his tongue and catches it, never once breaking eye contact. 

“Holy shit,” someone whispers. It takes Eddie a moment to recognize his own voice. He knows it's impossible through the glass and the distance, but he swears he can hear how the camera shutter on the other side of the street goes crazy. 

Steve releases his fingers with a slick sound, tongue licking over plush lips to gather the last traces of strawberry and chocolate and Eddie still clinging to them. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, breath cool against Eddie’s wet skin. 

“Let's get outta here … and I'll show you just how much I'll do.” 

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And then they went home and had hate sex. The end.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #1k followers #Hype's 1k follower ficlets

[morganbritton132]

Idk if you’ve mentioned it before but what is everyone in the Party’s jobs?? We already know Erica is a kickass politician and Lucas is the family embarrassment doctor but what does everyone else do besides bug Steve lol?

Also is Dustin still with Susie or did that ship sail away in the EMTTS?? <333

So, fun fact about me: I am not a big fan of future AUs. I don’t particularly like reading them and I’ve never written one prior to the Tiktok Saga. I think the problem I have with them is that it’s really hard to determine where a character should be thirty-odd years down the road. How or why a one-off post about Eddie being bad with technology turned into all this, I do not know.

I don’t have everybody’s job picked out because I don’t really think about it until it’s relevant to the story, but luckily, I do spend way too much time thinking about this AU so I have few that haven’t been mentioned.

The ones that have been mentioned: Steve is a teacher, Eddie’s a musician, Nancy’s a journalist, Jonathan’s a photographer, Lucas is a doctor, and Erica is a senator.

I think Argyle owns a very successful marijuana dispensary in California where him and Jonathan live and it gives him the freedom to travel with Jonathan when he goes out of town for business. Argyle just has the vibe that should not be working a nine-to-five. Also, I think that Argyle as an old man stoner with long completely gray hair is just so cool.

Robin is also a teacher, but she teaches at a university in the linguistics department. She spoke four languages when she joined the party, she now speaks nine. She’s written a book. She has a kickass rating on Rate My Professor. She’s likely the front runner to take over the department once the current dean retires next year.

I really like the idea of Max becoming a physical therapist. She had a long road to recovery after Venca and spent over a year in physical therapy just learning how to walk again. She knows what it’s like. She knows when and how hard to push her patients, and she’s good at the job. This also makes Max a doctor so Erica includes Max when she says that Lucas is the worst Sinclair.

I’m less defined on what kind of careers that Will, Mike, and El have. I just haven’t found a job that I’m like, yes, that makes perfect sense for that character. I do think that Will has a career where he can be creative and that he’s successful, I just haven’t narrowed it down to what exactly he does.

Mike and El, on the other hand, I have no idea. I mentioned before that Mike had a band that opened up for Eddie on CC’s first national tour and I imagine that he did one summer or during his gap year before college (if he went to college). El, I like to think, travels a lot and has got to see the world and be free of the responsibility of saving the world. But those two, I think, are tough to pin down to a specific career.

Now, for Dustin.

Dustin has had a very successful career as a researcher and his career has taken him all over the world. Now what exactly does he research? That’s up to you. This man is a scientist and that’s all Steve and Eddie can tell you about Dustin’s job because it’s just over of their heads. He loves it and that’s all they need to know.

Dustin and Suzie are currently not together. They have dated off and on since they’ve known each other and have always split on good terms. It has just always been the wrong time for them because when they’re together, they’re great. They hit it off and decide to start dating again, and then they just get busy. They’re both top of their field and work crazy long hours all over the world, and the cost of that is their relationship.

I think they both kinda know that one day, they’ll meet up at the right time, but for now, they’re good friends and they date other people. Steve thinks that they’re soulmates and he’ll randomly give Dustin an update that Suzie is single again. Dustin is always like, “How do you know that?”

“We’re friends on Facebook.”

#Dustin: Why are you friends with my ex on Facebook? #Steve: I gotta know what my daughter in law is up to #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson tiktok saga #the party

[evansbby]

What would Steve do if Omega went and got a job behind his back after she completed college? 😂 like Rosey is in school so she becomes the assistant of someone in her field especially if her boss was an alpha 😏 (imagine if her boss was Ari 😂😂)

I don’t think omega does anything without Steve’s permission 😭😭

But you’re inside my head bc ofc I’ve been thinking of scenarios like this!!! I can imagine them having a fight over it bc she really wants to get a job bc she feels restless at home now that Rosie has started preschool. Steve wants to have another baby and omega says she wants to try working first. Steve is super against this and doesn’t want her to work at all, especially now that he’s the senator and they’re in the public eye— he wants his wife to be a mother and housewife first and above all. So he puts his foot down.

Then omega goes behind his back and just starts applying for jobs for the heck of it… just to see if she’d be accepted. She applies for one job which she’s UNDER-qualified for and she gets it which makes her suspicious and she realises all these places only want to hire her bc of her last name (Rogers) and the fact that she’s the senator’s wife.

SO THEN she starts applying using her maiden name and she keeps getting rejections 🥲🥲 Turns out nobody wants to hire an omega in a job “more well suited for alphas.” This makes her really sad. THENNN I can imagine her getting finally accepted to a job at a female-run publishing house as a publishing assistant and she’s sooo happy! She tells Steve, and explains how she only has to go in two days a week and the rest is work from home.

Steve is… not thrilled. In fact, he gets angry bc how dare she apply with her maiden name bc that’s not her surname anymore. And how dare she go behind his back because she’s not allowed to do that. He asks her how she plans to do this job when she gets pregnant again because he DOES plan to get her pregnant again, like, as soon as possible.

Omega says she would like to wait another year before having another baby, so she can gain experience working. Steve is NOT having it (he’s in especially a bad mood bc of work stress and all that). So he just slams the door and leaves and sits and stews in his home office. Omega gets paranoid that he hates her and will leave her (although not that much, only a little bit bc she’s healing now) so she tells him she’s sorry and she won’t accept the job and she loves her family and loves him and if it makes him that upset, she’ll sacrifice the job to do what he says bc she knows that marriage means you have to sacrifice certain things.

But then STEVE (who has calmed down) feels bad bc he hates how sad she looks and he knows she’s been through so much and how could he really deny her from this happiness? There’s an internal war going on in his head because on one hand, he’s her alpha and his word is law and he shouldn’t be made to feel bad for putting his foot down. Tons of his friends and family keep their omegas under very tight control. He doesn’t want to be seen as lenient! But then he ultimately decides he doesn’t care, and that he wants her to be happy.

So he does a thorough background check on this publishing house, and is secretly pleased that the staff is all women (that’s a big deciding factor in letting her work there). And turns out, it helps him gain public favour too, bc Senator Steve Roger’s wife is not only the perfect submissive housewife and mother, but she is also a working woman! So Steve gets praised in the media for allowing her to work.

AJDJSKAK idk if this is canon bc although I like this, I also love the idea of omega being a traditional housewife and having baby after baby with Steve 🥹🥹 so let’s just call this a brainstorm idea draft whatever, but not officially canon! But not unofficial either! What do you guys think??

#sjsjsjsj #poyt #poyt drabble

[howdoyousleep3]

ERMMM!?!??! IS THIS SENATOR DADDY?!

he looks so sharp yet I just want to curl up in his lap 🥹🥹🥹 he's so pretty

and his hair omfg I want to run my fingers through it. imagine Bucky walking into work one day and seeing Steve wearing /glasses/ too 😞😞 ik he would go crazy 🤤

😩!!!!!!!!!!!

The combination of the open collar and the glasses just! Wow! The things it does to me! I have a theory that the Senator just...completely softens up once him and Bucky are together together and this look supports that theory. 😌

The glasses are absolutely killer, they are just 😮‍💨. The first time Bucky sees them he has nothing to say but, "I...I didn't know you wore glasses," when Steve asks him why he's staring. (I think I maybe wrote that somewhere?! Or maybe it was just a thought lol)

So handsome, so Senator, so 😵‍💫. He would most definitely keep them on during a late night, FaceTime booty call, oh yes.

#askK #senator rogers #senator #chris evans #looooooook AHHH #i'm so happy you sent this to meeeeee

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖Alpha, Beta (& Omega)

Rated: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2928

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: a/b/o, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, nobility/royalty au, alternate history, dom/sub elements, beta bucky, anal sex, oral sex, hurt/comfort, first time, age gap (18/29), domestic discipline, spanking, head of household, wedding night, Edwardian time period, m/f/m poly marriage

Summary: To save House Barnes from scandalous ruin, James must agree to a contracted marriage, accepting Lord Senator Steven Rogers as his Alpha, Husband, and Headship.

To read previous parts of this series first, got to the story's masterlist

9. A Consummation, cont'd

This Chapter: He wants to feel Steve pressing down on him again, touching, and rubbing; wants to feel his hot mouth against his skin, his big hands running all over his body. He wants to feel desired, and Steve's the only one who's made him feel that way in years.

"Might have to check to make sure that fever’s really gone.”

"Yeah. Yeah maybe you should."

Steve straightens, his eyes going heavy-lidded with interest. “How much better are you feeling?”

"A lot better."

His eyebrows rise. "A lot?"

"Yeah, a lot." Bucky swallows thickly, works up the nerve to rasp, “C'mere. You want to feel my forehead?”

Steve walks closer to the bed. He gets one knee up on the mattress and Bucky watches how the muscles in his thigh move, how his cock hangs heavy between his legs, just starting to thicken in interest. Fuck. Steve’s got the most gorgeous cock Bucky could imagine.

“What do you want to do?”

His gaze jerks up from Steve’s cock, to where the alpha's eyes are shining in eager, heated amusement, and it makes his belly flip.

Steve tilts his head playfully. “You've been ill, so ... I wouldn't feel right about it if you didn't tell me what you want.”

“I, I don’t know. I just, um …” His face heats as he falters, sounding like a dolt, a virgin; all the things he doesn't want to sound like. He licks his lips, wondering if maybe he does still have that fever. "Um ..."

“It's okay,” Steve encourages, climbing over on the bed. “Don’t have be shy, Honey. Tell me what you want.”

God, but it undoes Bucky to hear Steve speak like that—and it's not the first time that he has. Bucky wonders if asking for his explicit consent is something that makes Steve feel better about their hastily arranged marriage, or if it just turns him on to know that Bucky wants him that way.

“Touch me?” he asks, because he does want him that way.

He wants to feel Steve pressing down on him again, touching, and rubbing; wants to feel his hot mouth against his skin, his big hands running all over his body. He wants to feel desired, and Steve's the only one who's made him feel that way in years.

Bucky squirms in place, self-conscious and impatient. “Please?”

Steve climbs over him, gently spreading Bucky’s legs with his knee and settling there. “Of course, Buck, ‘course I will.” He kisses him softly, slotting their mouths together and slipping in with his tongue only when the moment’s right. 

In Bucky’s limited experience, people tend to fumble through kissing in one of two ways: it's either brief and chaste, or rough and tactless. Bucky's parents have always seemed the former, the boys and girls his age, the latter. But Steve kisses like he was born knowing how to do it in a third way. A better way.

The careful way that he invades Bucky’s mouth, coaxing and slow, makes the arousal thrum hotter beneath his skin. It’s erotic, getting to open up to another person like this—especially one who looks like Steve. Bucky moans softly, hands sliding up Steve’s back and curling over his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” Steve whispers against his lips. “Just let me make you feel good, okay?” He draws away and looks down at him. “Tell me I can.”

Bucky exhales shakily and nods. “Yes.”

Steve smiles and sits back on his knees. His hands slide up Bucky’s legs, drawing his nightshirt up his thighs, and then higher. Bucky’s breathing picks up as he’s slowly exposed. “Steve …” he whispers, embarrassed that this is still so new to him. He shouldn’t feel so nervous at being naked in front of his husband. They’ve already done this, already been here, and yet Bucky’s trembling as Steve bares him. “S-steve …”

“Shh. It’s okay. I love seeing you. You’re beautiful, Bucky.” He presses a kiss to his belly, hands rucking the night shirt up past his waist. “Take this off,” he murmurs, continuing his path downwards.

Bucky pulls the nightshirt off and tosses it aside, looking back down at Steve’s hands on his hips and his face so close. “Fuck,” he whispers. 

“Mmhm.” Steve angles his cock upwards, thumb dragging up the underside and trapping it against his belly. He rubs the sensitive skin just under the head in slow circles, and Bucky moans. Steve’s eyes flick up, dark and heated, and Bucky's cock throbs at how turned on the alpha looks, just from doing this to him. “That feel good?” he asks.

Bucky nods. “Y-yeah.”

“Good.” He wraps his hand around him and strokes, easing his foreskin down and revealing the weeping pink head. “Look at that,” he murmurs, his face so close to Bucky’s cock that Bucky can feel the warmth of his breath.

“Fuck,” he whispers, turned on beyond reason at the sight of Steve’s gorgeous face so near to his erection. “S-steve, oh, please. Will you?”

Steve hums in approval and takes his cock into his mouth. Bucky grunts and grits his teeth, a stifled shout lodging in his throat and coming out as a whine instead. Steve hums again and smooths his hand up Bucky’s hip to settle him. He pulls off and looks up. “Still okay?” 

“Nngh, yes. Feels so good.”

His mouth ticks in a knowing smile and he strokes him loosely a few times. “Have you ever had this done to you before?”

Bucky shakes his head, blushing. “No. I didn’t think—” he cuts himself off, but Steve is waiting for him to finish the sentence, so he hesitantly admits, “I didn’t think that Alphas … did that.”

Not that he thinks they can’t do it, just that they don’t. Sex and pleasure revolve around alphas, or at least it’s always seemed so, with the way people talk—and don’t talk—about it. Alphas are the aggressors, the takers; they fuck their partners, they don’t sink down between their legs to service them all night. Bucky gets the feeling that Steve has never held to these standards, though, because his features instantly screw up in disdain.

“Ridiculous,” he huffs, saying nothing more before taking Bucky back in his mouth.

Bucky’s breath punches out of him as Steve sinks almost all the way down his cock, lips tightening for the slow, hot drag back up. "Oh." He grabs impulsively at Steve’s hair. “Oh, god.” It feels so good, holy shit.

The hot, wet capture of Steve’s mouth has to be the best thing he's ever felt, making his cock twitch and throb, pleasure coiling tightly in his belly, his balls. Bucky doesn't know how he won't finish in two seconds like this. “Steve,” he gasps, trying hard not to thrust up into his mouth or pull on his hair too hard. “Fuck, wait, oh, oh I can't. I'm gonna ...”

Steve gentles his technique after that, letting up to stroke him slowly while he sucks at the tip and tongues that sensitive spot underneath. It makes Bucky’s toes curl, how perfectly gentle it is. "That better?" Steve teases, pressing his thumb against the slit.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers, craving more. His balls are throbbing—aching, and tight—and he reaches down to cup them.

Steve grunts and knocks his hand away, palming them in his own hand instead. Bucky exhales harshly and releases his grip on Steve’s hair, his head dropping back down to the pillow and his eyes slipping shut as he surrenders to what Steve is giving him.

It’s so much. Steve’s suckling on the head and jerking him off and rolling his balls with all the dedication of a longtime lover. One of his knuckles slips back and rocks against his perineum, and Bucky grunts and tenses. “Ssteve,” he slurs, “Steve, oh, oh. M’gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

Steve pulls off, and Bucky’s left panting and trying to calm down. “Look at me, Sweetheart,” Steve says. Bucky opens his eyes and looks down, belly swirling hard at the sight of Steve between his legs: flushed, messy hair, lips swollen and wet. He stares dazedly down at him and Steve smiles. He holds Bucky's cock and rubs it against his lips, back and forth, wet. “You want me to make you cum like this?” he asks. “Or do you want me inside you?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and his cock jerks in Steve’s hand. “Inside me,” he says, remembering how it’d been that first night on the ship, how Steve had opened him up so carefully and fucked him so gently, how good it had felt to be taken like that.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, moving up his body to lie over him again. He kisses and nuzzles up under his jaw. “You feel up to it?”

If Bucky wasn’t sure before, he certainly is now. Steve’s body pressing down on him feels too good to lose. He wants more of it. “Yes,” he breathes, canting his hips up to grind his erection against Steve’s stomach. He can feel the answering hardness of Steve’s cock against his belly, and it urges him on, knowing that Steve is aroused by what they’re doing, that he wants Bucky, too.

There's no doubt he does. Steve’s scent gets stronger. He kisses sweet and slow, like he’s thanking Bucky for saying yes. “Okay,” he whispers, kissing right over Bucky's glands. “Okay. Just a minute.” 

At first Bucky doesn’t understand why he’s moving away, but then he sees the slick that Steve’s reaching for, returning with it and sitting back on his heels, undoing the lid ... dipping his fingers in. Bucky bites his lip as he watches Steve slicking his fingers. It’s so intimate, making him flush with embarrassment even as his cock jerks at the sight.

Steve will be gentle, he reminds himself. He’ll make it good like he did before. Bucky nods to show that he’s ready and draws his knees up, pulling Steve down over him with a hand on the back of his neck. He wants him close while he does this. “Touch me,” he says breathily. “Make me ready.”

Steve’s slicked fingers find his hole and gently trace over it, making Bucky’s breath hitch in a quiet, “oh.” He swallows, eyes slipping shut at the still-new feeling. But Steve is careful with him just like he was before, and he takes his time, circling and rubbing gently before finally pressing that first fingertip in. Bucky’s body gives to the pressure, and he moans quietly and grasps at Steve’s shoulders. “Oh.”

“Good,” Steve rumbles, clearly affected by what he’s doing. He buries his face in Bucky’s neck and scents him. “That’s good, Bucky. Just relax.”

Bucky shudders and arches his neck to give Steve more room, pushing down on the finger to draw it in. He gasps when it glances against that spot inside. “Oh! S-steve …”

“Mmhm.” Steve’s lips drag up his neck. “I know, Honey. I know.” He licks the shell of his ear and bites at it, making Bucky shiver in his arms. 

“Ohn.”

“Shh, s’gonna feel good,” he promises, softly thrusting his finger to get Bucky used to it. “You want to try another?” he whispers.

Bucky whines, nervous but eager. “Yes,” he says, then exhales shakily as he feels Steve work second finger in alongside the first. It’s a stretch, and Bucky whimpers at the slight burn of it. “Oh,” he sighs. “It’s ...” It hurts—only a little, but he doesn’t want to say so because he doesn’t want Steve to stop. “S’big,” he whines instead, grateful when Steve hums in understanding and goes slow for him. He kisses Bucky again, licking into his mouth and distracting him with a filthy swipe of tongue as his body adjusts. 

“You’re okay,” he soothes. “Just gotta loosen up for it.”

Bucky nods tightly and focuses on accepting it, trying to relax as Steve pulses his fingers in tiny motions. “Curl ‘em,” he begs, wanting to feel that spark of pleasure deep inside that Steve had elicited their first time together. “That spot, please. Make me feel it.” Steve hums and changes the angle of his hand, slowly dragging down against his walls. Bucky cries out softly when Steve's fingers glance over it and the pleasure suddenly flares white hot. “Ohn."

Steve kisses him deeper, setting in to fucking him with his fingers and swiping over his prostate with each pass. He keeps doing it until Bucky’s hole starts to loosen up, the muscle softening to his touch. “There you go,” he praises, easing a third finger in with the others.

Bucky groans and digs his head back into the pillow, panting open mouthed and staring blearily at the bed's canopy as Steve works his body open. It’s overwhelming how intense it is, how close he feels to Steve when the alpha does this to him. There’s an ache to it, but Steve takes his time, and his fingers settle right over Bucky's prostate and rub with purpose, making his cock leak and pleasure bloom deep in his gut, overtaking the ache. “Oh, oh,” he breathes, chasing Steve’s hand with every thrust, seeking out more. “Oh god.”

“Good?”

He nods with his eyes clamped shut, focusing on the feeling. He draws his knees up high and wraps his legs around Steve, wanting to feel all of him. He tilts his hips to rub their cocks together between their bellies, and Steve groans deeply against his mouth.

Bucky opens his eyes to see Steve’s face pinched and his mouth gone slack in pleasure. He looks down between their bodies and feels his guts lurch and his balls throb at the sight of their cocks sliding messily together. Steve is so big, so dark and thick and leaking, his knot reddened and the fat head of him blurting out precum against their skin. Bucky's smaller cock looks almost delicate next to it. He whines and tears his gaze away, panting shakily. “Steve,” he moans.

“Uh huh.”

“Feels s’good.”

“I know Baby, I know. Fuck, you’re so pretty. So good. Just let me know. Let me know when you’re ready.” His face is so full of desire, and his voice is so tight with restraint. He’s so powerful, so beautiful, Bucky wants him inside his body.

“I am,” he pants. “I’m ready, I’m ready, please.”

Steve uses the lubricant again, wetting himself up with it and Bucky too, pressing more in with his fingers and making Bucky whine needily. “Breathe out,” he tells him, lining up and waiting for Bucky’s obedient exhale. That’s when he pushes in.

Bucky’s breath catches in his throat, shocked at how full and big it is. “S-steve,” he gasps, hands flying up to grab at his shoulders. “Oh. Oh, ohh …”

“Okay?” Steve asks, and he’s still pushing, still sinking in, forcing Bucky’s body open around his cock.

“Yeah,” Bucky pants, unable to say anything else. It’s so much. “S’big,” he whispers, clutching onto Steve like he’s the last rock in a violent sea. “Oh, fuck, Steve.”

“I know, Buck. You’re doing so good, takin’ me so perfect.” Steve slides a hand into his hair and kisses him, tongue delving eagerly into his mouth. When he pulls back from the kiss he also pulls his hips back and starts to rock. Bucky cries out and Steve nods, groaning. “Oh, so good for me, Beta.”

Bucky whines and mewls at the title, eyes squeezing shut at how good it feels. He buries his face in Steve’s neck and clings to him, feet hooked over the backs of his thighs and hips rutting up against his stomach, trying to get closer, to get more. He moves in time with Steve’s thrusts, rocking, taking him deep, and it gets easier after the first few minutes. Steve’s cock works him open, making his body soften and accept it, until Bucky’s gasping with every thrust, a steady stream of “Oh, oh, oh’s” leaving him. He searches Steve’s mouth out with his, kissing him and pleading for him not to stop, for more. “Yes, yes, oh god jus’ like that, Steve …”

“Shit,” Steve grits out, hips working harder, grinding in deep as he feels Bucky fluttering around him. “You feel so good, Buck, so—nngh—so damn good, Baby …”

“D-don’t stop!” Bucky gasps, as the pleasure grows sharp and sudden in his gut, in the base of his spine and his tightly-drawn balls. They’re heavy and throbbing, bringing everything into focus with each roll of Steve’s hips and glance of his cock against that spot inside. He keens and shoves one hand down between their bodies, suddenly desperate as his orgasm comes into sight. He sobs and jerks as his fingers wrap around his length. “Shit.”

Steve moans, hips shoving harder, kissing at the corner of his mouth. “You close, Honey?”

“Nnh!” Bucky nods and begs, “Don’t stop, oh please don’t stop. Just like that, just like that.”

Steve growls eagerly at his frantic movements. “Yeah, that’s it. Come on, Honey, come on.”

Bucky groans and squeezes his eyes shut at Steve’s rough encouragement, at the way he fucks him so good and calls him sweet names. He loves it, gets higher from it, feels everything coalescing just so in his gut. “Oh Steve, so close. Gonna cum, gonna …”

“Do it,” he grunts, fucking him even harder; firm, deep thrusts that make his balls slap against Bucky’s ass. “Get it, Baby, go on. Right on my cock, lemme feel it.”

Bucky gets right there, stops fisting his cock and jerks right underneath the head, tight little pulses that push him over the edge and make him cry out as everything unfurls and he finds his release. “Oh, fuck,” he sobs, the pressure unspooling rapidly as his cock shoots onto his belly. His whole body seizes with it, a rush of agonizing relief so great that it makes his eyes water. “Oh, Steve,” he cries. “Alpha, oh, thank you, thank you…”

“Fuck.” Steve’s hips snap harder, faster, his knot swelling and bumping against Bucky���s rim. One of his hands shoots down and squeezes it as he starts to come. He groans, deeply and helplessly as it hits him, and it’s the most erotic sound Bucky’s ever heard. His thrusts slow as he whimpers and grinds his release into Bucky’s body. “Nnn, ffuck ...”

Bucky tucks his face into Steve’s sweaty neck, sighing at the filthy-wet feel of it leaking out and getting fucked back in. Steve keeps coming for long minutes, panting and humping throughout. Towards the end, Bucky gets sensitive and whines a little at the overstimulation, but he doesn’t push Steve away, just lets him rut into his body as he finds completion. 

When he finally stills, Bucky pulls his face out of his neck and in for a kiss, needing to show him how much he liked it, how good Steve just made him feel. Steve grunts and starts kissing back, taking gentle control of the kiss after a moment and holding Bucky’s jaw. When they part, he pulls out, hushing Bucky’s whine of displeasure at the sudden emptiness. “Shh, I know. It’s okay.”

Bucky squirms and whimpers. He can feel his hole clenching and Steve’s cum leaking out of him. There’s so much of it. “I’m wet,” he says, voice shivery and quiet. “I need—”

“A bath,” Steve agrees, kissing him with a sated sigh. “Come on, we'll take one together.” He takes Bucky’s hand in his and eases him out of the bed, chuckling at his grumbling when the cum starts running down his thighs. “I’ll wash you,” he promises. “Now come on, let’s see if this tiny tub can fit the both of us.”

It doesn’t, but they make it work.

Series Masterlist

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#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #fanfiction #fanfic #a/b/o #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #alpha steve rogers #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #arranged marriage au #arranged marriage #enemies to lovers #hate to love #royalty au #historical au #edwardian era

[avengersnewb]

The Consequential Thing

It’s not like Steve hasn’t had many, many coffees with Tony over the years.

In many cities in the world, hotel lobbies, business functions—they’d once gone around Florence, finding a gazillion of must-visit espresso bars. Their party had bailed one by one, Pepper, Rhodey, Carol—even Happy, who’d clutched Steve’s shoulder and said that he was probably hallucinating from too much caffeine intake. Steve had to stick around. There’d been no way in hell that Steve would leave Tony alone in a foreign country. Tony speaks Italian fluently, sure, but that little detail—even if Steve’s buzzing brain hadn’t remembered it at the time—was quite inconsequential.

The consequential thing, always, is that Steve goes wherever Tony asks.

Hiking for five days, for example, to raise awareness on deforestation, which put them both in hospital for dehydration as they’d ran out of water on the last day; or swimming with sharks, literally, twice in Costa Rica and Ecuador, but also metaphorically, like last year when Steve had agreed to accompany Tony to the SI safety measures Senate hearings.

They’re even going skydiving for Tony’s 40th birthday. It’s special because it’s Tony’s 40th, of course, but on a more selfish note, Steve’s thrilled that he is the only friend accompanying Tony on the day. The fact that none of Tony’s other, non-insane friends are into jumping out of planes doesn’t really matter; what does matter, is that it’s just Steve.

Not that he doesn’t know that it’s not what he actually, deeply wants; it’s just that he knows that it’s all he will actually ever get.

He knows that Tony is Tony Fucking Stark. That he is the smartest, kindest, most brilliant man Steve’s ever known, and to make matters worse—to leave Steve royally fucked—he is mesmerizingly, breathtakingly beautiful.

Steve can never take his eyes off him.

Like just now, sitting across from Steve in the corner booth, with the flicker of the neon lights dancing in his eyes, the gray in his hair, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes—he is a sight to behold.

All Steve wants to do is to reach over the narrow table and kiss Tony’s lips, his jaw, his midnight stubble, the deep lines that form when he laughs; it’s truly a miracle—with how much he wants—that Steve’s kept from embarrassing himself in Tony’s presence.

Thank God, and all things holy in heaven, that he has the tiny bit of self-preservation. That he is stupid enough to fall for Tony, but not stupid enough to imagine that he actually has a chance with him.

It’s just logic.

Steve’s just not good enough.

---

My entry for @stonylovessteve 2023, written for @purpleicedteas :) I love SLS, hope you enjoy this smol piece of love for Steve 😍

The Consequential Thing (3k, T)

Steve works for Stark Industries as the head of design, and has a great friendship with his boss, Tony Stark. Except for the got-wrenching, blinding pain of not being Tony's boyfriend—which Steve's learnt to live with over the years—his life is a-okay. An unfortunate encounter with Steve's terrible ex, however, changes everything. Pining, Fluff. Idiots in Love, Bad Boyfriend Brock, Protective Steve Rogers Protective Tony Stark, Self-Worth Issues, Getting Together, First Kiss, Insecurity

#stony #stevetony #superhusbands #stony fic #stonylovessteve2023

[hersterical]

It’s too bad that everyone’s moved on from the sapphic senate except for me , especially with the rise in popularity of soccer player Robin. Can you imagine the hijinks and shenanigans?

Nancy making sure that Robin has enough water and starts bearing a striking resemblance to those moms who are almost intense enough to be kicked off the field

Chrissy may or may not have preformed a curse on a player from another team who was a huge jerk. Either way that jerk’s hair is falling out and for some reason her breath stinks really bad no matter what she does

Vicki is a ref. No one knew that that’s how she’s been spending her weekends until she reffed one of Robin’s games. Vicki and Nancy argue over many of Vicki’s calls until Vicki kicks Nancy out (the one time a ref was ever brave enough to do so)

(And obviously Steve is also playing on Robin’s team which brings all of the other people you would expect onto the sidelines, but this isn’t about him)

#robin buckley #the sapphic senate #nancy wheeler #vickie stranger things #chrissy cunningham #soccer player robin buckley

[drgstrcowboi]

random modern outsiders hcs pt. 2

it’s just too funny not to imagine what they’d be like today.

Darry

reluctantly took the whole gang to Barbenheimer and unconvincingly pretended to hate every second of it

listens to NPR religiously on his way to work and secretly carries his lunch in a New Yorker tote turned inside out so he doesn’t seem like a sissy

thinks it would be prudent to put solar panels on the house to save money on the electric bill

Sodapop

still uses BeReal and obnoxiously stages the photos every single time

uses crest whitening strips way more than 9 out 10 dentists recommend

got into online sports betting because of Steve and actually wins a surprising amount of money doing it

Ponyboy

it was his idea to go to Barbenheimer and he tried unconvincingly to seem more interested in Oppenheimer but fell asleep 30 minutes in

has a very aesthetic desk that harkens back to the peak of studyblr complete with one of these cute little silicone duck lamps and stabillo highlighter sets

listens to the 1975 and is internally conflicted about liking the music bc of matty healy’s politics

Steve

still uses reddit and is actually excited about twitter rebranding to x

has one of those basic white boy pine tree tattoos on his forearm but it kinda looks good on him

collects air jordans and never wears any of them ever

Two-Bit

loves theo von and listens to his podcast after discovering him on TikTok

goes to open mic nights and tries stand-up comedy in hopes of going viral but never prepares his material in advance

has the absolute most chaotic notes app you’ve ever seen in your whole life and he reads from it at open mic and one time accidentally started reciting his grocery list

Johnny

planted the idea of Barbenheimer in Pony’s head bc he talked incessantly about the Barbie movie for weeks

has been contemplating a septum piercing for a few years and even got Dallas to take him to the tattoo parlor to get it done only to chicken out at the last minute

keeps his white Air Force Ones absolutely pristine with a magic eraser and walks funny to keep from creasing them

Dallas

is blocked by most US senators on Twitter for cyberbullying them with poorly edited memes riddled with spelling errors

actually enjoyed the Barbie movie more than Oppenheimer and tries convincingly to make it seem the other way around

watched Dahmer on Netflix with Pony and Johnny and got really grossed out by every single episode

#cowboirx #the outsiders #dallas winston #the outsiders dallas #head canon #johnny cade #hc #ponyboy curtis #the outsiders johnny #the outsiders two bit #steve randle #sodapop curtis #darry the outsiders #darry curtis

[mariacallous]

There was no single moment when the democratic backsliding began in Hungary. There were no shots fired, no tanks in the streets. “Orbán doesn’t need to kill us, he doesn’t need to jail us,” Tibor Dessewffy, a sociology professor at Eötvös Loránd University, told me. “He just keeps narrowing the space of public life. It’s what’s happening in your country, too—the frog isn’t boiling yet, but the water is getting hotter.” He acknowledged that the U.S. has safeguards that Hungary does not: the two-party system, which might forestall a slide into perennial single-party rule; the American Constitution, which is far more difficult to amend. Still, it wasn’t hard for him to imagine Americans a decade hence being, in some respects, roughly where the Hungarians are today. “I’m sorry to tell you, I’m your worst nightmare,” Dessewffy said, with a wry smile. As worst nightmares went, I had to admit, it didn’t seem so bad at first glance. He was sitting in a placid garden, enjoying a lemonade, wearing cargo shorts. “This is maybe the strangest part,” he said. “Even my parents, who lived under Stalin, still drank lemonade, still went swimming in the lake on a hot day, still fell in love. In the nightmare scenario, you still have a life, even if you feel somewhat guilty about it.”

Lee Drutman, a political scientist at Johns Hopkins, tweeted last year, “Anybody serious about commenting on the state of US democracy should start reading more about Hungary.” In other words, not only can it happen here but, if you look at certain metrics, it’s already started happening. Republicans may not be able to rewrite the Constitution, but they can exploit existing loopholes, replace state election officials with Party loyalists, submit alternative slates of electors, and pack federal courts with sympathetic judges. Representation in Hungary has grown less proportional in recent years, thanks to gerrymandering and other tweaks to the electoral rules. In April, Fidesz got fifty-four per cent of the vote but won eighty-three per cent of the districts. “At that level of malapportionment, you’d be hard pressed to find a good-faith political scientist who would call that country a true democracy,” Drutman told me. “The trends in the U.S. are going very quickly in the same direction. It’s completely possible that the Republican Party could control the House, the Senate, and the White House in 2025, despite losing the popular vote in every case. Is that a democracy?”

In 2018, Steve Bannon, after he was fired from the Trump Administration, went on a kind of European tour, giving paid talks and meeting with nationalist allies across the Continent. In May, he stopped in Budapest. One of his hosts there was the XXI Century Institute, a think tank with close ties to the Orbán administration. “I can tell, Viktor Orbán triggers ’em like Trump,” Bannon said onstage, flashing a rare smile. “He was Trump before Trump.” After his speech, he joined his hosts for a dinner cruise on the Danube. (The cruise was captured in unreleased footage from the documentary “The Brink.” Bannon’s spokesperson stopped responding to requests for comment.) On board, Bannon met Miklós Szánthó, sipping a beer and watching the sun set, who mentioned that he ran a “conservative, center-right think tank” that opposed “N.G.O.s financed by the Open Society network.”

“Oh, my God, Soros!” Bannon said. “You guys beat him up badly here.” Szánthó accepted the praise with a stoic grin. Bannon went on, “We love to take lessons from you guys in the U.S.”

In 2018, “Trump before Trump” was the highest compliment that Bannon could think to pay Orbán. In 2022, many on the American right are trying to anticipate what a Trump after Trump might look like. Orbán provides one potential answer. Even Trump’s putative allies will admit, in private, that he was a lazy, feckless leader. They wanted an Augustus; they got a Caligula. In theory, Trump was amenable to dismantling the administrative state, to pushing norms and institutions beyond their breaking points, even to reaping the benefits of a full autocratic breakthrough. But, instead of laying out long-term strategies to wrest control of key levers of power, he tweeted, and watched TV, and whined on the phone about how his tin-pot insurrection schemes weren’t coming to fruition. What would happen if the Republican Party were led by an American Orbán, someone with the patience to envision a semi-authoritarian future and the diligence and the ruthlessness to achieve it?

In 2018, Patrick Deneen’s book “Why Liberalism Failed” was admired by David Brooks and Barack Obama. Last year, Deneen founded a hard-right Substack called the Postliberal Order, on which he argued that right-wing populists had not gone nearly far enough—that American conservatism should abandon its ��defensive crouch.” One of his co-authors wrote a post from Budapest, offering an example of how this could work in practice: “It’s clear that Hungarian conservatism is not defensive.” J. D. Vance has voiced admiration for Orbán’s pro-natalist family policies, adding, “Why can’t we do that here?” Rod Dreher told me, “Seeing what Vance is saying, and what Ron DeSantis is actually doing in Florida, the concept of American Orbánism starts to make sense. I don’t want to overstate what they’ll be able to accomplish, given the constitutional impediments and all, but DeSantis is already using the power of the state to push back against woke capitalism, against the crazy gender stuff.” According to Dreher, what the Republican Party needs is “a leader with Orbán’s vision—someone who can build on what Trumpism accomplished, without the egomania and the inattention to policy, and who is not afraid to step on the liberals’ toes.”

In common parlance, the opposite of “liberal” is “conservative.” In political-science terms, illiberalism means something more radical: a challenge to the very rules of the game. There are many valid critiques of liberalism, from the left and the right, but Orbán’s admirers have trouble articulating how they could install a post-liberal American state without breaking a few eggs (civil rights, fair elections, possibly the democratic experiment itself). “The central insight of twentieth-century conservatism is that you work within the liberal order—limited government, free movement of capital, all of that—even when it’s frustrating,” Andrew Sullivan said. “If you just give away the game and try to seize as much power as possible, then what you’re doing is no longer conservative, and, in my view, you’re making a grave, historic mistake.” Lauren Stokes, the Northwestern historian, is a leftist with her own radical critiques of liberalism; nonetheless, she, too, thinks that the right-wing post-liberals are playing with fire. “By hitching themselves to someone who has put himself forward as a post-liberal intellectual, I think American conservatives are starting to give themselves permission to discard liberal norms,” Stokes told me. “When a Hungarian court does something Orbán doesn’t like—something too pro-queer, too pro-immigrant—he can just say, ‘This court is an enemy of the people, I don’t have to listen to it.’ I think Republicans are setting themselves up to adopt a similar logic: if the system gives me a result I don’t like, I don’t have to abide by it.”

Does Hungary Offer a Glimpse of Our Authoritarian Future?

[special-interest-infodump]

I'm having a very no good night and I've recently fallen down the Sapphic Senate rabbit hole (whoever came up with that name is a goddamn genius btw) so, have some soft Ronance/Sapphic Senate/Vickie x Chrissy ideas.

Soft Sapphic Senate related headcannons

Touch-starved Nancy

Could legitimately write a whole fic on this. This girl needs cuddles and hand holds far more than she will ever let on or admit to. Obviously, Robin is the go-to: the amount of times Nancy will just 'casually' find an excuse to cuddle up next to/lean against/hold hands with her girlfriend is borderline uncountable. And as much as she loves being the little spoon and having Robin just hold her, some days, she desperately just needs Robin to lay on top of her, usually with Robin's head tucked under her chin, just to ground her in reality. The pressure helps, and being able to feel Robin breathing against her neck is just an extra reminder that they're both okay.

Protective Vickie and Nancy

Okay so here's the thing; I love the agent of chaos/possible cryptid headcanons of Chrissy more than I can articulate. That said, just imagine the potential of the double rays of sunshine (Robin and Chrissy) and the sunshine protectors (Nancy and Vickie.)

Constantly walking in on each other

Even in a universe where these four don't live together, if they live within walkinh distance, at some point someone will accidentally walk in on the other couple. Nancy's walked in on Vickie and Chrissy 4 times, Robin's done it twice, Vickie's walked in on Robin and Nancy 3 times and Chrissy's done it once. Steve asks why the hell none of them just lock a damn door and gets 4 variations of "in case of emergency!"

"Hello people who do not live here."

Fairly self-explanatory. When they all move out of Hawkins, the older kids really stick together, the boys included. Vickie and Chrissy have the comfiest furniture and Vickie's a damn good cook, so the others frequently end up at their place. Whether or not Chrissy and Vickie are there at the time is wholly irrelevant. More than once have Chrissy or Vickie come home to find Robin and Nancy on their sofa, Eddie raiding the fridge, Jonathan and Steve talking at the dining table, stuff like that. They don't even question it anymore, they just ask for money whenever the rest of the group steals food.

Robin does Nancy's hair before bed

So whenever one or both of them are stressed, Robin asks if she can brush Nancy's hair. Nancy's curls were the bane of her mother's life when she was little, so she always treats her hair with a bit of contempt and tends to be rather aggressive when she styles it herself. Robin though, Robin is gentle when she does Nancy's hair. She's patient, she takes her time with it, she softly kisses the top of Nancy's head when she hits a snag. It's soothing. And while it starts as a way for them both to just take some time to breathe on bad days, it eventually becomes their go-to ritual when Nancy gets out of the shower or a bath before bed. That's how much it calms them both.

If Chrissy survived S4 and Vickie knew about the Upside Down

If Chrissy survived (and I mean she never got Vecna-d) and she and Vickie found out about the Upside Down holy crap would they be protective of Ronance and the kids! They don't find out until they've left Hawkins and the day that they do, Chrissy basically tackle-hugs Nancy, while Vickie makes Robin swear to tell them if anything ever happens again. If the four of them move in together, Chrissy and Vickie happily support Robin and Nancy through nightmares or flashbacks or paranoid moments. Because those are their friends damnit and they're going to help them however they can.

Hope you like these!

#stranger things #ronance #the sapphic senate #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #chrissy cunningham #vickie stranger things #stranger things season 4 spoilers

[imaginedreamwrite]

Breach Of Contract: Part 8

A/N: Have you ever been stuck over details and been so fixated that you just had to give up? That’s this, as best as I can get without tearing my hair out

He was in his world, elbows deep in remunerating thoughts while his gaze flit toward your seat near the front of the private plane. He had been paying more attention to you than he should have been, rather than focusing on the campaign in LA.

He had already been informed by Pepper of the media circus that would be waiting for him, questions fired off about the trail he was leading, his marriage and of course the picture of you and him together.

Despite how Pepper had spun the story, there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that was caught on camera and had been commented on by amateur detectives. Steve knew that Peggy would try and play the role of a dutiful wife who was shocked by the turn of events, a role that was counterintuitive to the truth.

Peggy Carter had more lovers in her back pocket than she would have ever admitted to. However her family had done everything they could to keep her reputation intact and by doing so, they had earned her a mob of dedicated fans and supporters who would always find fault with him.

If he had done more, if only he had kept her attention. If only Senator Rogers was a better man…

They didn’t know that Peggy Carter had used him, that she liked having a sense of power and control over Steve that was comparable to a cat holding a mouse hostage within its paws.

Steve was held by her and her family’s reputable influence, he was always willing to adhere to the marriage because he wanted to make it work.

It was juvenile maybe, the way that he felt as if he had met the perfect person for him and had experienced some quantifiable streak of love at first sight.

Maybe it was immature to believe that he could and would have fallen in love with you at first sight.

Or maybe it was real. Perhaps Steve had been put through the wringer with such a manipulative woman that wanted to use him, and only now was he feeling a genuine and true connection.

In the end, whatever it was, Steve didn’t try to stop it or himself. He didn’t stop looking at you or studying you while you managed to look over some files Pepper had given you, he watched you as you mouthed the lyrics to whatever song you were listening to through your headphones.

The longer he watched you, the more he wanted to know about you.

Steve wondered what music drove you, what music you would or could listen to over and over. He wanted to know what song made you cry the moment you heard it or the song that you screamed to when you were angry. He wanted to know what melody you danced to when no one was watching, or what song you’d stored in your mind to play at your future wedding.

He wanted to know it all and every question he asked you in his mind made him feel like a kid with a crush. Every question that he wanted to throw at you had successfully made Steve feel lighter and enthused.

Unable to stop himself, Steve pushed himself to stand from where he was sitting. He apologized to Pepper who waved him off with a thoughtful glance and a lack of subtlety. She had only watched him long enough to take the place next to you, and then he felt her eyes leaving him. As Pepper had looked away, you had raised your head and looked at Steve from the corner of your eyes, your legs tucked under you and the files you’d been reading folded on your lap. You had balanced the file with one hand, using the other to remove the left earbud to set it in the middle of the table in front of you.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked even if he was already settled next to you, the question lingering in the air as electricity had passed from you to himself when his arm brushed against yours.

“No it’s okay,” you hummed and closed the file, setting it down on the table by your earbud, “I’ve read that three times already.”

“Nervous?” Steve was speaking more to his feelings than yours, the natural anxiousness that came before a press conference or big campaign attempt had always rattled him.

“This is my first real experience being a PR intern, and it’s my first time going to the west coast. I’ve always wanted to visit the Pacific Ocean.” He watched you as you angled yourself toward him, leaning into him just as he was leaning into you.

“I love the ocean, even when it’s wild it’s beautiful.” His eyes had been drawn from yours to your lips, the slight puckering of your flesh a mild pout, and then he caught your gaze again. “I haven’t been to the beach in a long time.”

“Too busy or…?” You trailed off, your voice tapering at the implications and the sudden uncertainty while talking about his wife. He knew you hadn’t known whether you wanted to pursue the topic of bad trashing his wife, and he respected you for that. Even if he hadn’t wanted you to hold yourself back, your decision was respectable.

“Or…” Steve answered truthfully, drawing his hand toward yours to brush his fingertips against the rise and fall of your knuckles.

“There’s a lot of beautiful piers nearby.” His throat felt tight, his heart beating erratically with every breath he took, the question lingering on his tongue, his hesitancy rooted in bashfulness and the juvenile belief in love at first sight.

It was sweeping over him. It was as if the two of you were already in the shallows of the ocean, being hit with every wave of desire and connectivity that passed from him to yourself.

“We should…” You stopped yourself, biting down on your bottom lip, swept away by his blue-green eyes. “Would you…show me?”

Steve raised his other hand, first cupping your cheek and then trailing his fingers down the line of your jaw to your chin. He searched your face, taking in every crevice and shadow that fell upon you, studying every square inch of you that he could. There was never a doubt, never a single faulting moment before he had leaned in.

It was unstoppable.

“I want to show you everything.” His lips swept across yours, and yours move against his.

It was a kiss in the middle of the private plane.

It was a clear case of two people who were drawn together, magnetized to each other in every possible way. Your heart fluttered with every pulse and gentle stroke of his fingers against your flesh, the pulse of electricity that hovered between you and Steve. You had never felt your mind, body and soul so overtaken by another person. It was new and invigorating, a cathartic reaction to the warmth and comfort that he had projected, the man who wanted to change the world was the same man who spent hours talking in a cheapened diner.

“I promise we’ll see the ocean. I’ll take you to the beach.” His promise came as a whisper against you, the two of you enveloped in each other’s worlds, kept here away from the toxicity of Peggy Carter and her clutch.

“Please,” you muttered against him, eyes fluttering closed when he raised his head and kissed your forehead after stealing your heart, “I want to see it all.”

“As much as we can.” Steve had eventually pulled away, drawing his eyes toward the empty seats across the two of you, and then he looked over his shoulder.

Chase & Val were having a quiet conversation between themselves, the two interns whispering and gossiping leaving Steve wondering if they were discussing you and himself. They were friends, best friends and he had been well aware of the Peggy Carter curse they had been talking about. It was well known to him, maybe even known to her, though they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t feel they need to talk about it because in her mind she was the only one who mattered.

In her mind, having her reputation and image cast upon society as a woman of substance and finesse was more important than anything anyone else was going through.

Peggy Carter had revelled under the idea of a curse in her name.

Steve wondered if you were his future and if he would be the next to thrive under the Peggy Carter curse. He was married to the woman, tied to her family who had allowed him to grow his political career, but now he wanted more. He wanted the ability to be a husband and have a wife, a wife who wanted to be in the marriage and commit herself to him as deeply as he wanted to commit himself to her.

It made him wonder if there was a possibility if there would ever be a possibility of Steve finding his next and greatest relationship from the tendrils of the Peggy Carter curse. He wondered, hoped and longed to have a genuine and natural relationship with you. It was love at first sight if he had ever known it, it was an intense and longing want.

Steve had spent the rest of the flight with you, the conversation shifting from one topic to another. It was easygoing and free, with no rush or constraints. There was nothing held back from the two of you, nothing you wouldn’t have talked about. It was as if you two were the sole occupants of the plane, the two of you so absorbed in each other even during the in-flight meal, you were consumed by him and he was consumed by you.

It was creating another layer of intimacy between you and Steve, another endearing connection that yanked the ties that bound you. It felt less like a campaign trip with his staff and interns, and more like a private escape for you and himself.

He had felt and held onto that endearing hope that you would and could be his future. He had felt that kind of safety in conversations until the plane touched down, and the media circus had become his newest reality.

And then, Steve promised himself that he would do anything and everything he could to shield you from their anger. He would do whatever was necessary for the media circus, and his wife, to prevent them both from trying to destroy you.

#senator!steve rogers x intern!reader #senator!steve rogers x reader #senator!steve rogers #steve rogers x intern!Reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader imagines #breach of contract #breach of contract part 8 #breach of contract series #breach of contract masterlist

[prolix-yuy]

Congrats on 500 LJ! Can I please request "Heroism – real and perceived" with Javier? I think that could make an interesting and angsty character study, but whatever you want to do I know will be amazing, so the choice is all yours (same for pairing, I'm happy to read something with Reader but I'm not gonna complain if it's only him, whatever works), thank you ❤️

Wonderful Bee! Thank you for being such a bright light in the Pedro community and for being so supportive and kind to everyone around you! I'll be honest, this prompt made me nervous since I haven't done Javi P yet, but I did my "research" (that was the fun part) and puzzled over this request.

I was planning to make all of these requests standalone stories, but the amazing Peña goddess @iamskyereads also sent in a Javi request, and as I read them side by side a two part story came to light. I hope you enjoy both this request, and the follow up to come!

The Road Behind

Pairing: None, eventual Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: Home is behind, the world ahead.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: M, angst, descriptions of violence, smoking, lots of Javi introspection. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: This one is a little shorter, but I'm making up for it with a part 2 that's continuing the scene.

Hero.

The words elicit a visceral sensation from Javier, a bullet through his throat, another in the center of his chest. He wants a stronger drink. He wants a real cigarette, not this minty square of nicotine tucked by his gums. He wants to run, like he always does when he’s back in Laredo. 

They didn’t say it out loud, the word too grand for a moment this small. But Javier saw it in their eyes when Luis shook his hand, his wife looking on, Paco watching him like he’s in the presence of a famous ball player. 

“We care about what you did in Colombia.”

You’re a hero, Javi.

“We sure are proud of you.”

Proud of the hero who took down Pablo Escobar.

The words drip with spite when Javier imagines them. There is no heroism in what he did. Men might envy it - the man who saved a nation. Women might desire it - let me touch the hands that pulled the trigger.

Joke’s on them. Sent away at the final hour, Judy Moncada’s treacherous mouth splashing across Messina’s desk. The sticky heat inside the phone booth, whiskey burning in his belly as he waited for Steve to say the words.

“We got him Javi.”

The grounding press of the phone against his forehead, payphone sharp under his palm, centered him when the weight lifted. It was a smaller relief than he’d hoped, still saddled with the burden of what he’d done to stand in that booth at that hour listening to success through a crackling sat phone.

Hero.

The words were tossed around in the days following Escobar’s fall, and maybe they brought some people comfort. But not Javier.

It didn’t feel heroic threatening that “senator” in Gacha’s home, a bullet in his leg and spittle spraying his face as Javier promised another in his head if he didn’t talk.

It didn’t feel heroic letting Carillo slaughter a boy to teach the children of Bogota, and Escobar, a lesson. His dead eyes took days of drinking to fade into the background.

It especially didn’t feel heroic carrying Helena out of the hell Javier put her in, gaze faraway and blood oozing from wounds that would never heal enough to forget. Her face tucked into his neck, body drawn so tight his arm goes numb under her legs. The words he whispers as he carries her to the ambulance are nonsensical - you’ll be okay, I have you, you’re safe. None of it can be true for her again.

No, Medellín had its hero for years. He built schools in the slums, homes for the people, let money fly from his fingertips like those white birds he trained to roost in the trees at his hacienda. Keeping the people thankful. Obedient. Trained.

Pablo Escobar was a hero, for a time. 

Never to Javier, or the Colombian government or the DEA. But for a short while, Escobar was the closest thing to a hero Medellín ever had. Never mind where the money he spent came from. Never mind what blood was hidden in jungles and behind locked doors. Pablo Escobar cared for his community, wanted to save it with his guiding hand. In return he expected what most do: loyalty, respect, adoration. 

But when a man believes himself to be a hero, that’s when the façade begins to crumble.

Javier’s skin itches, catching eyes with his father as he fusses at the Nicorette in his cheek. He’s too used to working in shadows for events like this, discomforted by eyes sliding over him, the leaned-in conversations. His only brief comfort, speaking with Lorraine, now softens into memory. She looks good, happy, and fulfilled in a way Javi covets. It pulled unbidden smiles to his normal grimace, hands nervous, emotions more on the sleeve of his flannel than he intended. 

But he knows he couldn’t have been the husband she needed, the steadfast presence of Randy, family man. 

Can you imagine if we were actually married?

Could he, before all the blood and the cocaine, the plata o plomo that ruled his life for so many years? Could he have been father to those two children, a little boy who looked up to him, a girl that wrapped his heart around her finger?

He’d never know now.

He needs the bite of air without the film of sweat and wedding cake dancing on his tongue. As quietly as he can leave - which still involves some hand-shaking and hair-ruffling - he slips into the twilight outside the wedding venue. 

God, he could use a smoke, the familiar warmth of the cherry cupped in his palm, the curl of smoke as gentle a kiss as any lover’s. He misses the way it perfumed his collars, how the first pull released tension before the nicotine even hit, and the ritual of the carton, the tap, the flame hot and dangerous, the warmth on his lips as it burned down almost to the filter. Gum just doesn’t cut it, and the mint gives him a headache.

Like the tiniest beacon on the horizon, he catches the crackle of flame, the metallic zip of a lighter wheel. Then a faint exhale and thin white smoke curling around the corner of the building. 

Javi doesn’t want to talk, to perform for another audience of one or many, but the temptation of the secondhand smoke tugs him around the corner, thumbs tucked into his jeans pockets and head downturned. He pretends he didn’t see her, like it was only happenstance he stumbled upon her and not because he’s a moth to the flame of her lighter. 

She doesn’t notice at first, leaning on the railing as she pulls the cinder to a glowing red between her lips. It’s a rare moment, to watch someone as they are without an audience, and Javi debates on leaving her be. But her head turns, his silhouette catching her eye.

“Looking for someone?” she asks, her smile easy. Even with all the time in the world to prepare, her question catches him off guard.

Maybe he is.

NEXT

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x fem reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javi pena x reader #narcos fanfiction #lj's 500 follower celebration #prolix fics

[morganbritton132]

the tiktokverse about Erica made me imagine just like, Eddie posting a tiktok captioned Somethings Never Change with a picture of the scoops troop back in the 80s eating ice cream and bent over a dnd campaign, panning over to where they're all in Eddie and Steve's kitchen, eating ice cream and pouring over a dungeon map. People are like oh that's so cute! Wait, sitting Indiana senator Erica Sinclair?? (Long time followers are like, yea yea the senator we've all seen her)

I love that US Senator Erica Sinclair is basically the time knife in that The Good Place meme. Also, absolute yes to all of this.

You can tell in the picture that Steve is not being helpful at all with whatever they’re trying to figure out because Erica is giving him a look like he needs help. She’s got a big ice cream sundae in front of her and Dustin is inexplicitly wearing Steve’s Scoops Ahoy hat. Robin is holding an ice cream cone that looks like it’s fighting for it’s life against gravity.

When Eddie pans over to them at the kitchen table, it’s almost shot for shot the same. Robin is licking her melting ice cream off her hand. Dustin’s got an embroidered baseball cap that says Scoops Troop (a gift from Erica). Erica is staring down at the map, eating her sundae. Steve is being as purposely unhelpful as he usually is when he participates in these one-shot campaigns.

You can hear Dustin say, “Did you miss the part where they’re heavily armed?”

Steve says back, “That’s why I said I would sneak in. Like a ninja.”

“Steve, your stealth stats suck ass. You’d died.”

Also Side Though: Erica always says that Lucas is the family disappointment and he’s always like ‘I’m a doctor’

Erica says, “And I went to Yale. You’re not even a surgeon.”

#Erica’s like this is highly embarrassed brother the family’s failure and then it’s just a highly accomplished doctor #Erica’s actually really proud of him #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson tiktok saga #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #robin buckley #scoops troop

[evansbby]

Imagine a few years after their marriage senator Steve and reader are getting loud in the bedroom, to the point where their kid wakes up scared because she thinks her mommy and daddy are fighting.

Steve could barely hear her little fist knocking on the door and when the reader hears the little jingling of the knob she tries tells Steve about it.

So him being a +6'5ft alpha opens the door to find their tiny omega daughter sobbing because she thinks her mom is hurt from the 'screaming'. And knowing Steve he'd probably laugh his ass off.

Omg 🥹🥹😭😭😭

I think Steve would be amused but he’d pick up his babygirl and swing her around and throw her in the air to get her to stop crying, and he’d be like “look, mama’s fine. She’s in bed.”

And Steve would be like 😏😏😏😏😜😜😜

and omega would be like 😕😕🫠🫠😅😅

and baby Rosie would be like ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹🤗🤗🤗

And then she’d want to sleep with her parents so that would put an end to their night bahahaha

#anon #poyt ask