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#steve x ofc
astheskycries · 3 months
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Accepted- 7
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Planning a wedding with the man she loves and working small jobs with SHIELD seems like an easy task, but now that Jonathan is dead, Maggie and Steve have to continue tracking down HYDRA and cleaning up the mess left behind- which is easier said than done when the Winter Soldier has returned.
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Masterlist Buy me a Coffee
“What do you mean it was compromised?” Steve demands, jacket gone and the tie loosened around his neck as he paces his floor, Bucky and T’Challa listening.
Steve’s previously perfectly gelled hair is mused from the frequent hand running through it, with the top two buttons undone and his sleeves haphazardly shoved up to his elbows. He’s barely managed to change, sounding more and more concerned since returning to the room Tony arranged for Bucky to stay in. “Why would they be ambushed in one of Tony’s warehouses?”
“The warehouse was an ambush,” FRIDAY calmly repeats from the ceiling intercom, having reached out as soon as Steve returned. “The warehouse was sold by Mr. Stark years ago once the company changed. The HYDRA drive was recovered, but not without casualties.”
“Maggie?”
“… She was the main target. I have not heard from them since Agent Romanoff gave emergency treatment-“
“Emergency?” Steve demands, heart dropping to his stomach. He was so worried, so focused on recovering the piece of his past he had left, the only family he could rely on since he became Captain America, and now he was paying the price. Maggie was paying the price.
“She was hit by a bullet, Maximoff tried to keep the wound closed but there was still significant blood loss. After Romanoff consulted Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark they went dark as the safe house was considered compromised.”
Of course. “Keep me posted as soon as you know where they are. I want to see Maggie.” He lets the call end before releasing a heavy breath, leaning against the back of the couch. “This is my fault…”
“No,” Bucky says firmly, watching his every move. “You couldn’t have known it would have been an ambush.”
“No,” Steve sighs. “But I also haven’t been trying. I’ve been pushing off everything Maggie says, from missions to the wedding to everything she’s faced with HYDRA.”
Bucky nods slowly. “So basically what I warned you about?”
Steve ignores his friend’s slightly smug dig, lost in thought. “I really messed up.”
“Maybe,” Bucky grips his shoulder, just like he used to before the serum changed them both. “But even if you’re a stubborn punk, you two will get over this. Just talk to her.”
Steve sighs before reaching into his pocket, pulling out the engagement ring from his pocket. “I don’t think that’ll work this time…”
Bucky raises an eyebrow. “She gave it back?”
“Found it on the dresser in my room.” He examines it, lost in thought. Though it’s simple, it’s perfectly Maggie in its subtle charm. “I deserve it… But I’m going to get her back. Whatever it takes.” He nods to T’Challa. “I’m going after them. I’m bringing them home.”
The first thing I’m aware of is a musty smell, an almost damp heaviness that takes more effort to breathe through and hurts my side with every deep breath. The air is cool and clammy against my skin, and when I open my eyes I can see the dampness making the dark ceiling shine. I wince a bit as I turn my head, trying to see as much as I can despite the sharp pain in my ribs and how the room spins when I move my eyes. “Natasha? Wanda?”
“Here," Wanda gently takes my hand, hers feeling almost uncomfortably warm. “It’s ok, you’ll be ok.”
“Where are we?” I manage to croak out, mouth feeling like dry cotton and throat almost raw.
“We found a cavern to stop in,” Natasha is on the other side, and I manage to turn my head to see her gathering bloody gauze and shoving it in a section of her bag. “You rest, we managed to stitch it up but you still lost a lot of blood.”
I cringe a bit as I swallow, trying to focus. “Steve?”
“We dropped contact,” Natasha says softly, looking over at me. “It’s safer until we know we aren’t followed.” I manage to nod, and she passes me some water and a straw. “How are you feeling?”
I take a sip, some of the sharp throbbing in my head easing. “I’m ok.” Everything hurts, but we’re safe and alive. “As soon as I’m able to move, we can get to a safer area.”
“Don’t force it,” Wanda rests her hand on my head, easing some of the pain. “We can accelerate some of the healing, but the blood… Well, we need to make sure you’re well enough to travel before we move again.”
I grunt a bit, managing to turn to look around the cavern. There are two backpacks resting by my feet, in close reach for any other emergencies. I notice the frown on Natasha’s face before the gun appears, and I try to sit up when she shifts. “Natasha-“
“Stay here.” She doesn’t look away from the entrance, silently padding into the open as Wanda checks my gauze. Though Wanda seems unconcerned, I can only imagine how exhausted she must be between the mission and trying to help me heal faster.
“Don’t worry about me,” Wanda says quietly, magic still floating around the wound. “I’m keeping you stable until we return to the compound- Banner’s machine should be able to regrow the cells and help you recover faster.”
Natasha returns, and seconds later I see Steve in uniform and rushing to my side. I blink, sure it’s a dream, but he gently takes my hand and strokes my knuckles as he kneels beside me. “Steve…”
“Shhh, rest baby,” His voice is soft and gentle, grip flexing before he leans over and presses warm lips to my temple.
“What are you doing here?” I frown, trying to move my hand free and a bit overwhelmed. “Why now? Why after all this time?”
“Did you think I would let you go?” I make a face, opening my mouth to argue, but he continues on before I can speak. “I love you, Maggie. I’ll never let you go again.” I try to move, but nurses move as Wanda lifts me with her powers, bringing me into the jet and a machine before the pain in the shift takes over, bringing me back to the darkness.
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pencilscratchins · 1 year
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i have reached the part of the steddie hyperfixation where i make them domesticated men in their 50s. having a blast! (twitter) [ID in ALT text]
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What comes after
An old work given new life on A03
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stevebabey · 1 year
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The drip in the roof of the trailer is what wakes Steve.
A steady plink! of water meeting wood somewhere above them. It always leaks a little in the trailer after it rains, like a gentle metronome of fat raindrops sneaking inside the cracks. While it used to annoy him, Steve just finds it soothing now.
The curtains Eddie had poorly shut the night before are askew just an inch, letting through a sliver of sunlight. A beam sneaks through, makes the room glow, walls painted golden. Steve revels in it and it’s warmth; lets out a yawn and stretches like a big cat, giving a soft groan as he does.
His elbow knocks into Eddie’s side as he does and Steve feels the familiar rush in his chest, fond affection filling every vein— and he loves it.
He loves that momentarily forgetfulness born from his sleepiness, where he forgets that he gets to wake up with someone by his side. Wake up next to Eddie, no less.
Steve loves it, adores it, because really what it means is he gets to remember it every morning.
He gets to roll closer and poke Eddie gently on the cheek, a small smidge of him just wanting to check if he’s real. If this, this love, is real and his. Eddie lets out a groggy groan, buries his face further in the pillow. Steve grins. Yep, he’s real.
Eddie makes another groggy noise and this time pulls his face out of his pillow slowly. He looks like a disgruntled cat, hair still stuck to his cheek, some small patch of drool left on the pillow. Eddie makes a soft ‘hmph!’ and one hand reaches up, wiping across his face lazily. His eyes peek open.
And as much as Steve loves his own secret moment in the morning, it’s blown out of the water by this every time — the moment Eddie sees him. Brown eyes see him and Eddie just softens. Like butter in the sun. Sinks further into his pillow and smiles, sleepy and wonderful.
Normally, they both let sleep comes and go, drifting across the sheets in half-hearted cuddles that Steve melts for every time. Today, Eddie’s smile grows into a happy grin. Then his hands are stretching out and he’s making small grabby hands across the sheets, urging his boyfriend over.
“C’mere,” he says, hands finding Steve’s side and pulling him, soft. “Gimme.”
Steve grins, heart flip-flopping. Goes without any resistance, shifting to snuggle up to Eddie, tucking up and under his chin as Eddie’s does his best to scoop him up in his arms. It’s warm. Eddie’s pulse is a small comfort to Steve as he rests his head upon Eddie’s chest, hands curled around his middle, thumbing at soft scar tissue. Thump-thump-thump, Eddie’s heart says, and Steve can somehow easily read the love in it; his stomach turns again, in a dizzy elated way.
“Mm, birthday boy,” Eddie hums, but he’s still so sleepy that birthday sounds more like birfday. Steve feels his heart jump in surprise — a moment in which he’s baffled Eddie knows. That Eddie remembers. The last couple birthdays… well, he hadn’t been friends with Robin til after his birthday in ‘85 and then, well, with everything in ‘86… It’s been awhile since someone has remembered is all.
He doesn’t mean to sound as surprised he does when he murmurs, “You remembered?”
Eddie hums again, a sweet loving noise. His arms around Steve tighten and Steve feels his heart keen when his lips brush across Steve’s temple. A gentle kiss is pressed there. It feels like everything he needs — this quiet small moment of wonder, a tiny moment of tenderness, just for Steve. He presses his own kiss back, lips against Eddie’s collarbone.
“S’look,” Eddie continues, dragging his arm off Steve to point somewhere on the wall. Steve follows his gaze and then— there it is, on Eddie’s calendar. Circled in red is April 29th. It’s covered in sloppy hearts, so much there’s no room for any word other than ‘Steve!!’ in the middle; his birthday. Marked so Eddie would remember, wouldn’t even dare the chance to forget it.
Eddie drops his arm, returning it to where it was, hooked over Steve’s side so his hand can run soothing soft touches down his back. He sighs again, another sleepy noise, and Steve could probably cry.
“Precious birthday boy, mm,” Eddie mumbles lovingly. “Lovely precious birthday boy,” he warbles on, voice gooey enough that Steve know he means it. Actually thinks that— that he’s precious, and lovely, and everything more. “What d’ya wanna do t’day?”
Steve tightens his cuddle and whispers, “Just this.”
He can feel Eddie’s grin, in response, and then there’s another kiss to his head. Just this. It’s the complete truth.
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sgrdoll · 1 year
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sunshine
synopsis - bucky’s therapist tells him to get out of the house more and he meets the human embodiment of sunshine.
warnings - smut, tooth rotting fluff, dom/sub dynamics, oral male & female receiving, spanking unprotected sex, mentions of PTSD, pet names, bucky struggling with his mental health
a/n - i really left yall hanging for MONTHS. if you read this at all i am thankful because if i was my own reader i would ignore this post out of spite lol. critiques are welcome since I haven’t written in so long. replies, reblogs, & likes are appreciated!! :)
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wc: 5k ish
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The rain outside pelted against Bucky’s leather jacket loudly. He groaned and stepped into a nearby library to escape the less than ideal weather. He welcomed the warmth that enveloped him.
He looked around for a moment, it seemed like he was the only person in here. Stepping into the dark library felt like switching dimensions in comparison to the loud bustling streets of New York, add in the incessant rain and it was a nightmare out there in the real world.
Bucky wiped his feet on the rug before stepping fully inside the library. He didn’t have anywhere to be, he was really only out because his therapist thought he was getting a bit too comfortable in isolation. Of course, that was true, however, he still despised having to interact with innocent people he had the potential to hurt.
The library was dimly lit and had books from floor to ceiling. There were even miscellaneous piles of books scattered around his feet on the floor. All of the colors that surrounded him were neutrals but they felt so comforting and inviting. The library he stepped into was cozy and he had no qualms about being trapped here while the rain poured outside.
Deciding to make the most of his time, Bucky walked toward the nonfiction section. He loved reading books that had anything pertaining to the military, it was something that had stuck with him through his childhood and into adulthood. He slipped into the narrow aisle and scanned down the shelves.
His fingers gently grazed the spines of the aging books in front of him. Bucky was slowly relaxing into the silence that the library provided for him.
His apartment wasn’t the safe haven to him that it once was, it was now a place haunted by the nightmares that were slowly consuming him. Here in the library though, his demons couldn’t find him.
“Excuse me, sir,” a small voice said apologetically as they squeezed by him.
Bucky moved his focus from the books in front of him to the woman that was now browsing right next to him. She had her long light brown hair flowing down her back and a bit messy from the rain. The skirt she was wearing was black and entirely too short for the weather they were currently having, but the cream sweater with the Polo logo on it somewhat made up for the shortcomings of her skirt.
Bucky’s first thought was His apartment wasn’t the safe haven to him that it once was, it was now a place haunted by the nightmares that were slowly consuming him. Here in the library though, his demons couldn’t find him.
“Excuse me, sir,” a small voice said apologetically as they squeezed by him.
Bucky moved his focus from the books in front of him to the woman that was now browsing right next to him. She had her long light brown hair flowing down her back and a bit messy from the rain. The skirt she was wearing was black and entirely too short for the weather they were currently having, but the cream sweater with the Polo logo on it somewhat made up for the shortcomings of her skirt.
He moved his attention away from the doe-eyed girl that was a little too close to him and refocused on the combat books in front of him. Funnily enough, the books about violence were distracting him from his fears of violence.
It took a few moments, but Bucky’s anxiety slowly trickled off until it was nothing but a dull ache in his chest.
That was until the pretty girl smiled at him, “Hi.”
Her tone was warm and kind and she was obviously inviting Bucky to have a conversation with her while they shared the aisle of old books so intimately.
His eyes widened slightly but he quickly took his composure back from the perfect girl in front of him that seemed to be stealing it.
“Hey,” he almost cringed as soon as he said it. His voice was much too rough in comparison to the gentle tone she was using to speak to him.
“Do you read a lot of nonfiction?” Her head cocked cutely to the side which made his heart beat a little faster.
“On the rare occasion I pick up a book, yes,” he answered after a beat of silence. He was mentally high fiving himself at such a collected response considering the effect she was having on him.
“I’m grabbing some of the old medical journals for some of my writing,” she answered the question without being prompted.
“What do you write?”
“I mostly do romance but my latest idea has been murder-mystery.”
“Oh, so you’re a novelist?” Bucky was beginning to feel more comfortable with the conversation now. The girl in front of him now felt like a breath of fresh air rather than a suffocating hand around his throat.
“Not exactly a superhero, but it pays the bills,” her smile was infectious and Bucky couldn’t help but grin.
“What’s your name?” He leaned back against the shelf behind him.
“I’m Amelia. But most of my friends call me Milly,” she answered him without breaking her gaze.
Amelia was very confident it seemed. But, not in a cocky way, her confidence was kindness. She radiated an energy that could only be described as pure gold.
“I’m Bucky,” he told her.
“I know. I saw you on the news last night, you save the world a lot it seems.”
Her comment made the tip of his ears burn red, “I guess you could say that.”
“Don’t be so modest. I think it’s cool, you’re like a real life comic book character,” her flattery was like ten arrows pointed straight at Bucky’s anxiety, slowly dwindling it down to a tiny stump that sat in the base of his stomach instead of the huge tree that once took over his entire body.
“You’re acting like you don’t have the coolest job in the world,” he rolled his eyes playfully at her, “You’re the one who gets to make the comic book characters.”
Their conversation continued and they slowly migrated over to the leather chairs in the corner of the room. They sat down next to each other and he told her his war stories while she took little sips of her coffee.
Every small movement she made, every little flip of her hair, all of her crossing and uncrossing of her legs, enticed Bucky even further into her spell.
“I love the rain,” Amelia said to him after he complained about the horrific weather, “It’s so pretty and calming.”
It confused him how she could find violent thunderstorms calming.
“The only reason I even walked into this library was to get away from the mess outside,” he replied back while looking through one of the windows to see that the precipitation had slowed down to a gentle mist now.
“Well if there was no rain, you would’ve never met me,” she smiled at him.
They had been talking for at least two hours by this point, but it felt like only twenty minutes. Everything was so easy with Milly. Conversation was like an ever flowing river with her, it just was so smooth and easy.
All he could feel was her energy, not the pain of his past, just her. For two hours, what happened to him fifty years ago was just that, the past.
She was pure light. She radiated warmth, she was what made flowers grow, she was what supported life on Earth, she was the sunshine.
Bucky looked down to check his watch and noticed the time. His eyes widened a little bit and he glanced back up at Milly who was happily chatting about her cats Moose and Sushi.
“Am I talking too much?” She suddenly stopped and looked down at her lap shyly.
“No! Of course not,” he quickly reassured her, “It’s just, it’s getting late.”
“Oh,” she said, a little disheartened he was finished talking to her.
“How about dinner?” Bucky didn’t even think about what he was saying until it was out of his mouth. It was very spur of the moment and he wish he could go back in time and think about the consequences that might come of taking her out.
“Dinner?” She repeated back as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Yeah, I know this great Thai place a few blocks down,” he smiled at her trying to tamper down his own racing thoughts.
Her pale pink nails clicked against the now empty coffee cup in her hand as she thought, “That sounds great.”
The pair stood up and Bucky took notice of the cloudy sky no longer pouring rain. He almost smiled at the thought of how long they had been talking. Not one notion of violence or hurting her had crossed his mangled brain.
They stepped out of the library and into the street. Without thinking, Bucky grabbed her hand and guided her down the street.
Milly hoped he didn’t notice the pink tint on her cheeks and trembling hands.
The duo were both lost in their own thoughts about one another and walked in silence while the world around them moved at an impossible pace.
Bucky stopped at a door on the corner of the street that Milly had always assumed was abandoned.
“I’ve never been here before,” she commented to him as he opened the door for her.
“I don’t know many people who have,” he chuckled.
No one greeted them but that didn’t seem to bother Bucky who led her to a booth in the corner without any guidance from the staff.
Milly slipped into the booth first and Bucky very surprisingly sat on the same side she did.
Bucky was testing himself. He wanted to see how far he could go without any thoughts or flashbacks to the life he used to live.
Their shoulders touched and he basked in the warmth she brought him, both physically and metaphorically.
He looked down at her and she was trapped in his unwavering gaze. Her lips parted and Bucky’s heart hammered loudly in his chest. They didn’t speak, they just drank each other in like sweet wine.
“Can I take your order?” A woman with a thick British accent interrupted them.
Bucky’s head whipped around and Milly was ripped from her trance with him. Their picture perfect bubble had burst.
He cleared his throat quickly, “Sorry, um, yes I think we’ll both have the chicken pad thai and some water.”
The waitress chewed her gum loudly while writing down the order and Bucky offered her a small smile.
“Sorry, I just sort of guessed on what you would want,” Bucky said almost sheepishly.
“I like chicken pad thai,” Amelia responded back with a smile.
He locked eyes with her again, “Do you think you want to do this again tomorrow?”
She laughed cutely at him, “We aren’t even done with today.”
“I think it’s gonna go well.”
His confidence almost shocked her. All day it felt like he was walking on eggshells but now she felt like she was getting all of him, not just the parts he felt like showing. The thought made her stomach flutter.
Their meal went on with lots of flirtation. Knees touching and hushed giggles were like their own secret language.
When the bill came Bucky deflated. He wasn’t ready to give up the sunshine yet.
He put his card down and the waitress came back with the receipt far too quickly. Bucky felt his time with her winding down and coming to an end.
“Hey,” he blurted out, “Do you want to come to the tower with me?”
“What tower? Like the Empire State Building?”
“The Avenger’s Tower.”
Amelia’s eyes widened, “Are people even allowed in there?”
Bucky’s heart stopping smile appeared once again, “Of course, and now you have an invitation.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” she frowned.
“I won’t get in trouble. Tony’s not even in town this week. I think Steve’s the only person there.”
“It sounds like we would be breaking the rules,” she quirked an eyebrow at him.
He laughed, “It makes it more fun.”
She sighed, “As long as we don’t get caught. I really don’t want to be in trouble with the most powerful men in New York.”
He smiled, “You could never be in trouble with me, doll.”
Amelia could’ve passed out. The dominance that oozed from just that sentence made her head fuzzy and knees weak.
She tried to play it off by rolling her eyes and he laughed again.
Bucky stood up from the booth and reached his hand towards her.
“This time we can take a car to the Tower. It’s probably unbearably cold outside, especially with that skirt on.”
“I’m wearing fleece lined stockings,” she defended.
He tried his hardest to not daydream about what was underneath those stockings.
The pair walked into the windy night of New York. The rain had returned as a mist that made the horizon hazy and gray.
Bucky tucked his dog tags into his long sleeve shirt. Similarly to him, Amelia was struggling not wondering what else he could do with his hands.
A car pulled up to the sidewalk and the two quickly got in.
Bucky brushed some stray rain droplets from his hair and she jumped back and giggled when they landed on her face.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes and he silently wondered how he was going to get through the rest of the night without grabbing her by the neck and kissing the hell out of her.
She smiled up at his now serious and poked his cheek.
“You’re so cute,” he said after she finished her laughing fit.
Her cheeks reddened and her nose scrunched. She really was perfect.
The traffic wasn’t as horrendous as Bucky expected and they made it to the Tower quicker than he thought they would.
She was enamored by the bright lights of the Tower. The glow from the building reflected in her brown eyes like dazzling stars.
“C’mon,” he interrupted her gawking, “I’ll show you around.”
Bucky escorted her out of the SUV and to the front of the building. He remembered feelings just like she did when Steve first brought him here, impossibly small.
“Let’s go in. I promise it’s much more impressive from the inside,” Bucky said to her.
“Are you sure this is allowed?” Milly asked one last time before they went in.
“If I say no will you still come in with me?”
“Bucky,” she whined, “Please don’t get me into any trouble.”
The pout on her lips sent his mind into overdrive. She made it hard for him to form sentences sometimes.
“I won’t,” he regained his composure, “It’ll be fun and if it’s not I’ll take you right back home.”
She begrudgingly agreed and they walked into the glamorous building.
Reinforced glass walls surrounded them and a few employees strolled by without a second glance at her.
“Wow, it’s really pretty in here,” Milly breathed out.
“It’s definitely not the tax bracket I grew up in,” Bucky chuckled.
“Do you guys live here?”
Amelia knew she was being nosy and almost immediately regretted asking. Bucky however didn’t bat an eye and answered her quickly.
“I share a floor with Steve on one of the top levels and Nat sometimes stays here, but that’s it.”
“You have your own coffee shop,” she said pointing to the 24/7 coffee cart situated in the lobby.
“It’s incredibly convenient,” he chuckled, “Do you want to see the upstairs?”
His cheeks turned red, he didn’t want her to have the wrong impression of him. Bucky didn’t want to have some one night stand with her, although he wasn’t opposed to taking her up there and fucking her stupid.
“Sure. What floor are you on?” She asked while walking toward the elevator. Amelia didn’t even catch the innuendo.
“Floor 8,” he stepped on the elevator, “Let me put in the stupid passcode.”
He punched in four digits and rolled his eyes, “Tony is way too serious about security.”
The ride up was quick and relatively quiet. When the doors opened to Bucky’s penthouse suite she audibly gasped.
“Wow. You live here?” Her tone was practically incredulous.
“Have for 3 years now, sweetheart.”
The room was mostly decorated with neutrals except for some artwork on the wall.
Bucky noticed her eyeing it and offered an explanation, “That’s Steve’s contribution, he loves to paint.”
“It’s beautiful here. I would be scared out of my mind to even cook in a kitchen as perfect as this one,” she eyeballed the million dollar penthouse.
“I’ll use that as my excuse the next time Tony scolds us for not eating at home enough,” Bucky joked.
Amelia turned her attention back to him, “Did you say Steve was home earlier?”
“Let me check, he might’ve gone out with Natasha,” he said while walking out of the room and calling out for his flatmate.
When he figured out Steve wasn’t actually home as he originally thought he leaned against the wall. He had barely any time to process that there was a beautiful woman in his apartment. A beautiful woman that he wasn’t scared of harming. Someone who took all of those bad thoughts away from him.
Bucky had never felt this way before. It was the first time in a long time he wasn’t scared of himself.
He sighed in relief at the feeling of not having to worry. It felt like he had just finished the marathon of his life and finally got to sit down when he was around her.
After taking a couple of seconds to process he walked back into the living room to see her sitting on the couch looking at the view of the city.
The wall was glass and it made for a beautiful backdrop in their home. Especially tonight, when the stormy clouds parted just enough to see the full moon.
He went to the kitchen quietly as to not disturb her and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Bucky took a deep breath and strolled towards the couch and sat down. He placed the wine glasses on the table in front of them.
“It’s beautiful out there isn’t it?” She commented.
“Yeah, it’s perfect,” he said, staring at the side of her face.
“I brought some wine if you want any,” Bucky offered while pouring his own glass.
“No thank you, I hate the taste of wine,” she scrunched her nose again.
“I can grab some water or juice for you,” he offered quickly. He felt like a terrible host.
“No, that’s okay,” she finally turned her body towards his.
His breath stopped when he saw her brown eyes gazing into his own. Bucky didn’t even think about it when his hand touched the right side of her neck and he leaned down to kiss her.
She reciprocated quickly and grabbed the bottom of his shirt in her fist as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands.
Their lips moved against each other for a few seconds before he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She sighed into him and pressed herself closer to him.
Bucky picked up her smaller frame and placed her in his lap without breaking the kiss.
Millie straddled him and grabbed the short hair at the base of his neck.
“Fuck, Amelia,” he breathed out when he pulled away.
Her sweet giggle filled the room as their foreheads touched and their chests heaved in unison.
“You're really good at that,” she said, still out of breath.
He chuckled at her, “I wanted to kiss you all night. It’s a surprise I’ve made it this far.”
“Are you gonna stop now?” Milly tilted her head and pouted her lips.
Bucky threw his back and cursed, “You’re making it very hard to be a gentleman right now.”
Amelia kissed a hickey on his neck and leaned in next to his ear, “I’m not asking you to be a gentleman, Bucky.”
It felt like all of the resolve he had left in his body had snapped and he wrapped his calloused hand around the soft skin on her neck. He squeezed the sides of her throat and watched as her eyes took on a glimmer he hadn’t seen before.
Milly challenged him with a smile he wasn’t expecting, “How did you know just what I liked?”
“I never pinned you for a girl who liked to be thrown around,” Bucky’s eyebrow lifted in surprise but the grin remained on his face.
“I never pinned you for a guy who liked to throw girls around,” she returned his smile.
Even with his hand wrapped around the delicate skin of her neck he wasn’t scared of hurting her. Bucky felt fully in control for the first time in a long time.
“Safe word is red, baby.” Bucky smirked after a beat of silence
His hand tightened around her throat once again and he kissed her. Amelia’s hips grinded down against his lap.
Her short skirt slowly started to ride up until Bucky’s hands found the hem and pushed it all the way up.
His hands wandered down from her neck to her hips. Bucky moved her against him. He felt his pants tightening to accommodate how hard he was.
Amelia pulled away from the kiss and leaned her head against his chest as he continued to move her hips against his own. All that could be heard were her shaky moans and the sounds of bucky sucking a trail of hickeys down her neck.
“Not so confident now, huh baby?” He taunted her when he felt her thighs shaking around him.
“Please stop teasing me,” she begged with her eyes squeezed shut.
“Aw, but you look so cute squirming on my lap,” he mocked her.
Gone was Bucky’s almost shy demeanor, now he was domineering and arrogant.
Amelia could feel herself getting wetter by the second, “Please, Bucky. Please fuck me.”
“Only because you sound so sweet when you beg.”
Bucky moved her and stood up from his position on the couch. He took his black shirt off and let it fall to the ground.
He almost groaned when he saw her look up at him from underneath her lashes. Her eyes were full of want and it made his chest hurt.
Amelia stood up from the couch and then dropped to her knees and looked up at him with a cute smile.
“Fuck, not as innocent as you seem huh?” He chided while she ran her hands up and down his jean clad thighs.
Her fingers ran across the prominent bulge a couple of times before she began to unbuckle his belt.
Bucky could tell she was reciprocating his teasing from before and teasing him.
She gentle pulled his boxers off and let his cock stand proudly in front of her.
Milly inhaled deeply and tried to keep her confidence from before as she stroked him gently. Before she put her mouth around Bucky she looked up at him and he gave her a small reassuring smile.
That gave her all the confidence she needed to take his length down her throat. She bobbed her head up and down until her eyes watered and mascara trailed down her flushed cheeks.
Bucky groaned out loud, “Jesus fucking Christ Milly. You look so fucking pretty with my cock down your throat and tears in your eyes.”
Amelia sucked hard on Bucky’s length and his hands found their way into her thick brown hair.
She stopped moving and looked up at him expectantly.
His jaw almost dropped when he realized she was waiting for him to fuck her face. She had to be created in a lab or something. There was no way she was that perfect for him.
Bucky’s hands gripped harder into her hair and he started to fuck her mouth.
He felt himself getting closer and closer as he fucked her mouth at a sinful pace. Bucky took her off his cock and Milly frowned.
“I want you to come down my throat,” she pouted.
Fuck, she feels like the answers to all of life’s problems.
“Not tonight. Tonight, I’m gonna cum inside you,” he said pulling her up from her knees.
“Take off the rest of your clothes.”
She stood there for a moment without moving.
“Now, Amelia. Don’t make me ask again,” he warned.
This made her strip off her sweater and her ripped tights. She unzipped her skirt quickly and looked back to Bucky for instruction.
“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Bucky praised her and cupped her cheek.
His words were so kind and reminded her of the way he was earlier in the night. Amelia wasn’t sure which side of him she preferred, the domineering and brash Bucky or the kind and soft spoken Bucky.
She took a step towards his hulking frame and ran her hands over his abdomen. She felt his taught muscles twitch underneath her wandering fingers as he kissed her again.
He maneuvered her back onto the couch where they previously were and perched her body on his lap without taking his lips off of hers.
Bucky broke the kiss and whispered gruffly, “Over my lap.”
Amelia could tell by his tone that it wasn’t request. She shivered at the dominance he displayed and did what he said quickly.
Bucky ran his his large palm over the tan skin of her Milly’s ass and had to stifle a moan. Her body was a fucking masterpiece.
Amelia could feel his hard on pressing into her middle and she wanted nothing more for him to be inside her.
Without warning his hand came down harshly on the sensitive skin of her ass.
She gasped when she felt him spank her. She rubbed her thighs together at the feeling of the sharp pain.
Bucky took notice of this, “A painslut too? Very cute.”
Milly’s face turned pink at the name but she couldn’t deny that it made her feel that much more turned on.
Bucky gave her a few more before finally ending her anticipation and reaching down in between her legs.
She almost sighed in relief when his hand glided over her folds. Bucky rubbed small circles over her clit. His fingers went between her dripping hole and up to her clit torturously. All she wanted was for him to be inside her, in any way possible.
He was rewarded for his efforts with her cute moans egging him on. Finally, he slipped a finger into her and she gripped his thigh hard, surely leaving marks where her fingernails were digging into his skin.
He pumped in and out of her heat at a pace that made her eyes roll into the back of her head. He had a second finger and curled his fingers right into the spot that made her see stars.
Her pants were audible, “Please, Bucky! I’m about to cum.”
As soon as she said it his pulled his fingers out of her. She whined at the loss of contact and sat up from her position over his lap.
“Bucky, please!” She whined hopelessly.
“Don’t be such a brat, you’re gonna cum tonight,” he rolled his eyes at her.
Milly pouted up at his handsome face. Before she could say anything else she was being scooped up into his arms and trotted off somewhere.
“Where are we going?” The whine in her voice was still there.
“My bedroom,” he responded in a short manner.
Bucky opened the door to his bedroom and threw Amelia on the grey duvet of his bed.
She didn’t even get a chance to look around before he was once again on top of her kissing her.
Milly squirmed underneath him and let out helpless moans.
Bucky pulled away and let out a mocking laugh, “You’re so desperate for my cock huh? How did I find such a perfect cockwhore?”
Amelia wanted to cry at how badly she wanted him. It felt like she had been teased for millenniums.
Bucky ran the tip of his length through her folds to get her even more worked up.
“Please!” Tears clouded her vision.
The sight of her crying for him to fuck her was enough to send Bucky into a spiral. He finally pushed into her heat.
He threw his head back and they let out simultaneous moans. He slowly started to pump into her velvet walls.
“Fuck, it’s like you were made for me, baby.”
Amelia couldn’t form words all she could do was whimper and clutch onto his sheets as he pounded her into his mattress.
Bucky grabbed her leg and threw it over his shoulder and watched as her mouth opened into a silent scream at the new angle. He smirked as he fucked into her, he knew she was close.
“I’m gonna cum,” she panted out at him as she arched her back up into him.
He grabbed the headboard and set a brutal pace when he felt her tighten around him. Bucky was sure this was what heaven felt like.
He felt her constrict around him even tighter and arch her body into his own. Her moans came to a crescendo and she came undone around his cock.
Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. Feeling her cum around him was his final straw and he released inside of her.
Feeling him cum inside her made Amelia preen. They stayed connected for a moment before he pulled out of her and laid next to her panting body.
She turned toward him and pressed her head into his chest. Bucky kissed the crown of her head and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her body closer to his.
“Was that okay?”
“It was perfect, Bucky.”
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manwrre · 6 months
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steve: you’re the most jealous man i know.
billy: you know other men?
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562 notes · View notes
ash5monster01 · 6 months
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Not Just The Books
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Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: 18+, no use of Y/N, smut, nudity, language, fluff, friends to lovers, minors DNI.
Summary: Steve catches you reading a smutty book and before the embarrassment can settle in you realize he is more interested in doing the stuff in the book with you.
word count: 3.5k
Masterlist
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It was not uncommon for you and Steve to be able to sit in silence comfortably. Sometimes having the presence of a friend while you did different things was so much better than being alone. So you both sat comfortably in his living room, you in the easy chair, lamp on to illuminate your book, and him in the center of the couch, slumped down, as he watched whatever was on TV. The sound didn’t bother you as you read, you normally were in another world, not noticing the things around you. So even though Steve had the TV blaring with the hearing of a Grandpa, you didn’t even mind, the TV could explode and you wouldn’t notice. Thing was Steve always noticed you, even if his favorite movie was on TV.
So when he spotted you uncrossing your legs it peaked his interest. You still hadn’t torn your eyes from the book to see he had noticed your movement. Steve had almost turned away until he saw you had pressed your legs together, your teeth capturing your bottom lip. His heart accelerated slightly because he knew that kind of movement. He had caused many of girls that kind of movement, so when you started to shift in your seat, your breaths coming out in smaller pants he realized there was something more to the book you had tightly gripped in your hands. You still didn’t even flinch as Steve stood and walked over to you, in fact you couldn’t even tear your eyes from the page as he quite literally did it for you.
“Steve!” you screeched and he quickly noticed how dilated your eyes were, how fast your chest rose with each breath. You looked like a woman starved.
“Since when do books make you act like that” Steve teased, eyebrows raised highly and you felt the embarrassment burn through you.
“Please give me my book back” you begged, hand out, waiting for him to hand it over.
“You know, normally I would” and the panic started to set in as he turned the book towards himself. Steve never attempted to read your books. Why now?
“Please Steve!” you we’re quick, lunging towards him, but he was quicker. Your voice was rough, all worked up, and no one had even touched you.
“It’s always Steve you need to read more, when was the last time you opened a book, and now you don’t want me too?” he knew he was getting under your skin and you just prayed he woundn't read the page you were on. If there was some higher power out there they would keep him from reading that page right now.
“Just not that book, I was enjoying it” even Steve could hear how uncomfortable you sounded as you said it. It was as if you were trying to get him to cough it up without knowing what was so interesting about it.
“Well, I want to see what’s so good” and just like that his eyes dipped down and you launched for him. Yet Steve escaped your grasp, running across the room, and leaping onto the couch where he stood. Book now face open and you got to watch him read it in real time, like he was on a stage.
Claire panted out heavy breaths, skin on fire everywhere he left a wet love bite and blew on it. She tried to steady her breathing but as his wet kisses trailed down her stomach, finishing on the waist band of her shorts, she couldn’t quite seem to stop the breaths that came out.
Slowly his fingers curled into her waistband and she lifted her hips to make it easier, a silent conformation that what he was doing was okay. As the cool air of the bedroom hit her dripping core she couldn’t help but whimper over the thought of him burying himself between her folds.
“So perfect” he spoke, his tongue darting out to take a small taste. “And sweet”
Then just like that he was devouring her completely. So fast her back arched without her knowledge, pressing into him as he deliciously lapped up everything he could. Eating her out better than anyone ever had, and as his nose nudged against her clit she couldn’t help but begin to feel the coil tighten in her stomach. He had barely done anything and she was already ready to cum.
“Holy shit” Steve muttered, dropping his arms that held the book as he looked down at you from the couch. Very much unable to meet his eyes as he realized exactly what you were reading.
“Can I have my book back now?” you nervously asked, arm rubbing up and down your other one. Steve jumped back down to the ground. Trying to regain your gaze.
“Want to explain this to me?” he asked, holding it over and you quickly snatched it back.
“Not particularly” you now hyper aware of exactly how alone the two of you were right now.
“You like to read dirty books” he chuckled like a little kid and finally you dared to glance up at him only to see a smug look on his face, like he obtained information he was going to hold over your head for years to come.
“Most girls do Steve” you hissed attempting to hit him with the book but he quickly stopped you, his head coming to a shake.
“Whatever you say, it just looked like you were really enjoying it. I’d never seen you so…” he paused, trying to think of a word, and your heart accelerated. Thumping quickly against your ribs and you prayed he couldn’t hear it. “Worked up”
You sucked in a sharp breath as he said it and the air around you turned heavy. This had gone from embarrassing to mortifying because not only did you get caught reading about sex but you got caught for it turning you on. Steve had noticed you were turned on and now you wished he didn’t notice you even existed. “Can we not talk about this, I was acting like I always do”
“That’s a lie, you wouldn’t move while reading even if a tornado came through here but you couldn’t even sit still. You were needy and I know it because I’ve seen it a hundred times” now you were red as a fire truck and Steve was enjoying this way too much. Yet he was also getting turned on which he shouldn’t have because it’s you. His longest and oldest friend, the one he can be completely comfortable with but now he wanted to know exactly how wet you were from that stupid book and he wanted to see if he could get you wetter.
“Ah yes, King Steve, ruler of sex. Can’t take a hint but knows when a girl is turned on” you told him sarcastically, annoyed he insisted on embarrassing you further.
“So you admit to being turned on?” he said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes with a groan.
“My God give it a break, yes I was turned on, is that what you want to hear?” you asked him and as you let out heavy breaths and waited for him to give a sarcastic answer it never came. Instead he stared you down, like you admitting this suddenly made you a four course meal. Steve had never looked at you like this and now you were nervous all over again but about an entirely different thing.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you nervously asked, attempting to back away from him because now the foot and half between you two was way too close.
“I’m not doing anything” he told you, stepping towards you to shorten the distance again and you wished he hadn’t of done it because now Steve was replacing the guy in the book for you.
“Yes you are, you’re looking at me like you want to kiss me” you said, trying to make it sound like a joke but even to you is sounded nervous. Steve just tilted his head, eyeing you up and down completely.
“It looks like that because I do want to kiss you” how was he so comfortable talking to you like this? You had never crossed this line before and now you wanted him to touch you and stay away all at the same time. “So can I kiss you?”
“I uh, I I..-“ you stammered, unsure how you went from peacefully ignoring each other to the edge of the line. If you say yes you would give him a reason to cross it and that was a lot of responsibility for a person.
“I need an answer sweetheart, because I really really want to kiss you” he spoke slowly and you swallowed hard, still turned on from the book and now a little turned on by him.
“Uh yeah, I-I guess” you told him and a grin cracked across his face and before you could say anything more his hands were on your face and drawing your lips near his own. He waited a minute before pressing them to yours, whether is was hesitant or savory you weren’t sure. But after a steady breath he pressed against you, mouth hot and slotting between your own lips perfectly. He was a good kisser but you already knew that.
It took only seconds for it to get heated, his hands tugging lightly at your hair and tongue grazing your lip. You parted in an instant, letting his tongue tangle with your own and then it was over. He had you backing up all the way to wall, your back thumping against it, and his knee wedging between your legs. Against your better judgement you started to grind against it, unable to stop your self considering how worked up you had been. “Getting yourself so turned on without any release, seems like torture sweetheart”
“There was going to be release, later, when I was alone” and your response had Steve’s head tipping back as he let out a groan.
“Still unfair, why don’t you let me take care of you?” Steve coaxed and you involuntarily ground down on his leg, knowing release was right around the corner if you just let him. Was it worth it though? To cross this line just for some sweet release? For a touch that could unwind you more than your own hands could? You knew Steve was a good lay, had been legend among the Hawkins High halls because of it. Should you even find out for yourself with risk of ruining the friendship? Fuck it.
You didn’t even have to answer based on the way your lips smashed back into his own. He met your pace in the blink of an eye and you couldn’t keep yourself from pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to lift it above his head. Even needier at the sight of his bare torso you began to ride his leg like your life depended on it. A deep chuckle left his throat as his hands dug in the doughy flesh of your hips, slowing your movements against him. He wanted to take his sweet time with you and if he went any slower you were going to be a whining mess.
“What do you need baby?” he asked against your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive spot there and you were in no position to care that he probably gave you a crimson hickey.
“Take off my shirt” you told him with a groan, keening as he licked the sore spot of your neck. He obeyed, removing the baggy T-shirt you had worn over here just to be met with the sight that you had forgone a bra. You watched as his eyes turned almost black at the sight of you, swallowing thickly before cupping his hands around both your breasts. The minute he began to knead the flesh your head was hitting back against the wall, fighting from grinding on his leg again. Something about Steve needily groping your chest ignited a fire within you and you had been doing good until your nipple was sucked into his warm mouth and involuntarily you bucked your hips on his leg so hard you felt your hips bones hit his own.
"Such a needy girl" he teased before moving to suck on your other breast. As much as his words turned you on you still found yourself needing to feel more in control. Steve would be too cocky knowing he got you to so desperately fall apart like this. So in a moment of courage you took some intiative. With his eyes still closed, mouth littering your breast with hickeys, you dropped your hand down and grasped his hard on through his sweats. You felt the squeak from his throat on your breast as you began to stroke him through his pants and just as the girls had said in highschol, Steve was intimidatingly big.
“Looks like the book turned more than just me on” you teased, a sly smile on your face and Steve removed his mouth from your breast, tongue grazing up the skin of you neck till he was face to face.
“That’s not the book, that’s you” he told you and these words gave you the rush of confidence you needed for your fingers to slip below his waist band and grasp his cock right at the base. He hissed at the feeling of your cool fingers and the attention you were giving him.
“Stevie is needy too, what does he need?” you hummed, eyes wide and innocently looking up at him. He squeezed his own eyes shut as you slowly stroked him, prepared to ease him out of his pants.
“Baby this is about you” he told you, trying his best to back away but you had a grip on him that he was enjoying way too much.
“I know, that’s why I want to do this” and you were spinning both of you around, pressing him against the wall he previously had you caged in. He groaned as you dropped to your knees, breasts swinging as you finally pulled his sweat pants down. His length stared you down but he looked delicious as ever. If someone had ever suggested you’d be sucking your best friends cock tonight you would’ve told them they were lying but now here you were, taking him into your mouth. You hummed at the saltiness of his skin, tongue swirling around his swollen tip. He grabbed your hair without even realizing, trying to ease you to take more of him. Slacking your jaw you allowed him to glide in and out of your warm mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat, humming against him which made him writhe against the wall.
“Okay, stop I’m going to cum” he pulled you off of him, arms easing under your own and lifting you to your feet as if you weighed nothing. You smiled deviously at him, chin slick with spit and he didn’t waste two seconds before pulling you into a deep kiss. “It’s my turn to get a taste now”
He was mumbling against your lips, arms wrapped around you as he carried you over to the couch he had been watching TV on. Once he had you laid gently across it he was removing his own pants and dropping to his knees to remove yours. He made sure to take his sweet time, pulling the soft material down your legs, memorizing the cream color of the lace panties that had been soaked against your mound. You tried not to whine out as he touched you everywhere but there. You were on the verge of begging until he finally moved to pull the cream fabric off of you. You went to close your legs but his arm stopped you, keeping you wide open for him.
“So perfect” he said and you groaned out.
“Don’t tease” and Steve knew you meant both about the book and about how he was taking care of you. So he just grinned before dipping down and licking a long stripe through your folds.
“And sweet” and you didn’t have any time to yell at him because he was devouring you whole. Your stomach jumped as he sucked harshly at your clit, back arching and pressing your pussy straight into his face. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, more than likely leaving bruised finger prints but you hoped they did. You wanted to remember the mind numbing head Steve Harrington gave you. You almost didn’t expect him to be so good at eating you out. You should’ve thought because your heels were digging into his back, hands tugging harshly as his curls, and you were moaning unapologetically because he was just that good. You could feel the coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you were grinding against his tongue, movements getting faster indicating you were right there. It wasn’t until his lips wrapped around your clit did you find yourself begin to snap, shaking as your body seemed to leave earth and come back to you all at once.
“Hope you’ve got another one in you baby” he cooed, kissing up your stomach and breasts. He finally met your mouth and even though you were already half worn out you found yourself gripping his cock in your hand again. He winced due to holding his own orgasm off and your thumb gently rolled over his tip.
“Show me what you’ve got Harrington” you were telling him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before sucking on his neck. Steve hoped you were leaving your mark and soon enough you were lining him up between your legs. You shuttered as he ran himself through your slick.
He couldn’t wait any longer and finally he was pushing himself in you, bottoming out in seconds as you fully sucked him in. He knew not to move as your mouth froze against his neck and he moved to kiss your lips, an apology and promise that it would stop hurting soon. He was in his own pain of needed relief until your hand was grazing down his bare back.
“Please move, I’m begging you” and he didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled back and slammed into you again. You moaned loudly and he quickly found his pace, moving in and out of you as best he could. Swiftly you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts which he didn’t hesitate to grip. He used them for balance as he slammed in and out you, massaging them and loving them as best he could. The way you were reacting made him realize this was what turned you on most, attention to your breasts. Needing to have his release soon he dipped down, removing one hand to suck at your nipple as hard as he could, hips still slamming into you. The wet heat of his mouth had you keening in seconds and you gasped out, trying your best not to yell.
“I’m coming Steve, fuck cum in me please” you begged and he almost came right there as he heard those words. In moments you were pulsating around him, clenching tightly and milking him for all he was worth. The tightness of you made him follow right after, thick ropes shooting into you. You panted heavily as you gripped his shoulders, indicating him not to move.
“I want you inside of me a little longer” you told him and he slowly eased down onto you, trying his best not to move and overstimulate you.
“Where the fuck did this behavior come from?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to the hickeys he had littered your breasts with. He was trying his best not to get hard over the fact he was still inside of you.
“I’ve always been like this Steve” you told him, feeling him twitch inside you.
“This dirty, why haven’t we been fucking sooner?” he chuckled, mouth kissing your chin and you rolled your eyes.
“Because I don’t fuck around Steve, and I always told myself that if we did this it had to be real” and the weight of your words hit him with surprise. Yet it wasn’t the kind of surprise you had expected.
“You mean to tell me you liked me this whole time too? Then what the fuck have we been waiting for?” he groaned out and your eyes widened as you reached for him.
“You like me too?” you hopefully asked and he smiled, lifting to press his mouth to your own. You winced as he slipped out of you, no doubt a mess all over the couch that now had to be cleaned.
“Hell I love you, I’ve always loved you” he told you after a beat and you smiled up at him, realizing you should’ve read dirty books around him sooner.
“We’ll in that case, let’s do this again”
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For you to enjoy <3: @jjmaybankswifes-blog @halflifejess
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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happy birthday, @stevesbipanic! i am glad you were born, you amazing human being. I hope you get to drink the coldest, most delicious, bougiest milo you can have. ILY broccoli! 💛
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Steve has never had a birthday cake. He doesn't count the first six cakes his parents had for him, because he's pretty sure it was only for appearances.
He remembers his seventh birthday. How badly he wanted to have a Flintstones themed birthday party, and how his parents called it tacky. Instead, Steve had a lavish tea party with all of their investor friends. He remembers hating it.
After that, there's— nothing. There were Nannies or Babysitters that tried to make him feel better by bringing him to Benny's and he's thankful for that. But there's always that heart wrenching rip in his system when he sees a child. Surrounded by family, singing happy birthday as they wait to blow on a cake.
And the thing is if Steve never gets to have that, it’s okay. It’s really, really, really, okay. That also means he’ll do his best to give all the kids the best birthdays they can have, so they can never feel what he felt. If El wants a day just full of craft making? Sure. Dustin wants to visit this damn planetarium in Indianapolis? Okay. Mike wants to dress him like him for an entire day? Alright.
Steve is happy that way, until Eddie Munson comes crashing into his life with a broken bottle. And okay, maybe it’s not a great idea to lie in the biggest and probably the most important relationship he has right now, but he’s not going to tell Eddie his little sad secret.
What he forgot to account for is the fact that his boyfriend is the biggest snoop to ever exist.
“Wha— What’s this?” Steve stammers as he enters his house. It’s almost always dark when he comes home, the house dull and empty.
Tonight, it’s different. After having his birthday dinner with Robin, Steve drives them back to his house so they can have movie night. Supposedly.
Instead, Eddie’s standing behind the long wooden dining table that never gets used, with 20 different cupcakes, all lit with a candle. There’s food and banners and balloons with streamers.
Robin pushes him forward with a smile, “So…” Eddie walks towards him, “I found some of your childhood pictures.”
“Oh.” Steve breathes out.
“Look, maybe I am wrong. Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe your parents just weren’t the kind of people that liked taking pictures and having to develop them. Maybe someday, you’ll tell me why you only have one childhood photo album or why there’s no pictures of your birthday parties past the age of six.”
Eddie says, hands nervously twisting around his hair, “But, on the off chance that I am right,” He shakes his head in disbelief, “On the off chance that you haven’t had a birthday cake or a birthday wish in 14 years, I got you 20 birthday cupcakes.”
Steve can barely hold himself anymore, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “Why 20?”
Eddie smiles at him, and his eyes sparkle at Steve like he hung the damn moon and stars, like he fucking created the whole universe, “One for every year my favorite person has been alive.”
Steve chokes down a half sob, half whine as he slaps a hand on his mouth.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Eddie whispers as he wraps Steve in a comforting hug. They stay like that for a minute before Eddie says, “I am so happy you were born. There’s a few more people that are happy, they’re all hiding in the kitchen right now.”
“What?” Steve pulls back, hastily wiping his tears.
“The kids are all here. Nance, Jonathan, and Argyle.” Eddie tenderly wipes a stray tear off his cheek, “Even Wayne, Hop, Joyce, and Mrs. Henderson is here.”
Steve’s not sure if he wants to know, but he still asks, “Why?”
Eddie visibly softens, but before he can answer Robin answers for him, “Because we all love you, Dingus.”
“So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to sit behind the cupcakes and they’re going to come out from where they’ve been eavesdropping.” Steve laughs when Eddie emphasizes the word, and there’s a clatter in the kitchen followed by whispering, “They’re going to act normal. And we’re going to sing you a song. Okay?”
Steve smiles, nodding, “Okay.”
“Okay.” Eddie says as he runs to the kitchen and as Robin ushers him to sit in front of the cupcakes. She forces a birthday hat on his hair, and he doesn’t even argue.
They all come out from the kitchen, all smiling and wearing ridiculous birthday hats. Even Hop and Wayne are wearing them and it might actually be the funniest thing he’s ever seen. The kids have blow horns that fill the silent house with joyous sounds.
They sing him a birthday song. It’s loud and it doesn’t exactly sound good. Dustin’s trying a new other pitch and Lucas has never been a good singer. Max is drumming on the table and El has a small tambourine. Mike and Will are trying to do some kind of duet in their own little bubble. But it’s the most beautiful, harmonious sound to Steve.
And as they all urged him to make a wish, Steve is struck with awe and disbelief, a feeling of realization sparking in his veins. Steve’s got everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him. He just wants all of them to be safe and sound.
He smiles at his family, as he lets his eyelid flutter shut.
And for the first time, Steve makes a birthday wish.
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Edit:
Steve smiles, happy and content, as everyone chitchats around him.
"Hey, Eds?" Steve calls out for his boyfriend who's busy stuffing his face with bread rolls.
"Yeam?" Eddie replies, still chewing on the bread.
"Can I have a Flintstone themed birthday next year?"
Eddie swallows his bread with water, before turning to Steve with a smile so bright it could blind him. He moves closer to give his temple a light kiss.
"You got it, sweetheart. I'll be Fred, you'll be Wilma. It will be perfect."
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boxofbonesfic · 9 months
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Title: Brave [1 of ?]
Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader
Summary: You learn the hard way what it takes to survive this new life. 
Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, More tags to be added
A/N: i had too much fun with this concept so i decided to stretch it out into more than one part! i really hope you guys enjoy.
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“You understand what I’m telling you, Sweetmeat?” He says, tapping the underside of your chin with the flat of his blade. His bright blue eyes seem to dance with amusement. “I’m telling you to run.” You jump, gasping as he turns the sword with a flick of his wrist, bringing it down in one smooth motion to cut the thick length of rope between your outstretched hands. It falls to the dry grass between your feet, and he straightens back up in the saddle. The massive Clydesdale paws impatiently at the dirt as he laughs again.
“Run.” 
You do, with the orc-pack’s laughter burning in your ears. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you sprint. You gather your dusty skirts up around your knees as you make for the tree line. The sound of a horn spurs you onward. 
“The river, Sweetmeat!” His voice carries to you from across the hill. “You’ve only to make it to the river!”
Dry branches tear at your face and clothes as you force your way into the brush. The fear disorients you, but only for a moment. They will run you down if you take the path, sure as daylight. Instead, you make the choice to stick to the trees, moving between them as quietly as you can. You’d seen what the blue-eyed-orc had done to the others—one by one offering them the same choices— 
Run and die. Run or die—
No one got to live.  
It made a sick sort of sense, you supposed, if you used Orc-logic. They were weak—unworthy of the water it would take to sustain them, of the burden it would take for a rider to bear them. You had watched as first the baker’s boy, then the cobbler, and then the smithy each followed the blue-eyed-orc’s instruction, stumbling down the mountain path and disappearing into the trees—only to be brought back at dusk, their remains thrown to the wargs.
Your father had been good for little else but finding his next ale, but he’d paid his guild taxes same as everyone. And a fat lot of good it did him. The few soldiers stationed at the outpost nearest your village had been felled laughably easily, almost as easily as your father. And now he was gone, and you were here, a day’s ride south of the charred remains of your village.
The horn blows behind you a second time, and you swallow your terrified sob. No—you mustn’t panic. It is fear and panic that will get you caught. Your mother’s voice rings in your ears. Find green, she whispers as you crawl through the trees. Find green.
And you will find water.
The trees aren’t dead, not really, not at the roots. There’s thick brown moss growing at the roots, between the sparse patches of dry grass. You fall to your knees, ripping at it. The top layer is dry and brown, flaking away easily under your fingernails. But underneath—
Green. 
The sound of hoofbeats approaching on the nearby path quickens your step. North—the river is north. You gather what is left of your torn skirts in your hands, trying to stay low and quiet. You have seen the thick-shafted arrows strapped to the backs of the broad-shouldered orc warriors, and you’ve no desire to feel them bury themselves in your back. 
“Fan out!”
Half-blind you push forward, your own ragged breath deafening in your ears. You’re not going to make it—there is no river, there never was, there’s nothing for you to find out here, nothing—
And then you see it. 
The river is drawn back from the bank, a shrunken skeleton of itself—but it is here. From the width of the bank and the depth of the riverbed, you can tell it was once a mighty thing, now tamed by the unending drought. The red clay is dry and crumbling beneath your bare feet as you stumble toward the water. It is cool on your feet as you splash into it, your feet sinking into the mud. 
There is a sound like a whistle, like a switch splitting the air before it parts skin, and an arrow sinks into the wet clay by your feet. 
“Don’t stop now, Sweetmeat. You’re so close.” The voice is taunting, and hatefully familiar. Slowly you turn, and the blue-eyed-orc is there on the bank. His bow drawn, another arrow already nocked.  You stare at one another, your heart pounding in your chest. You wait for him to draw back the bow, to loose the arrow—he doesn’t. After a moment, he lowers it. 
“Brave little thing, aren’t you?” He asks, cocking his head. “You’re not going to run?” 
“No.” You don’t want to die like your father—cowering, with an axe between his shoulder blades that he never saw coming. “I would see my death.” The blue-eyed-orc grins, one sharp fang hanging over his lip. 
“Oh?” To surprise, he stores the arrow back in its quiver, and takes a step closer. “You’ve no weapon to meet it.” 
“It will come whether I’ve steel or none.” You match his step, taking one further back into the river. The muddy water laps at your calves, soaking into your dress. Over the sound of rushing water and the thunder of your own heartbeat, you hear the horses. The riders approach lazily, slowly, like they know you’re cornered. 
You are. 
The pack doesn’t interfere; don’t come any closer than twenty or thirty paces from the riverbank, content to watch as the blue-eyed one circles you like a wolf. 
“Not going to beg, either, I imagine.” He says, and trembling, you shake your head. You’re up to your knees in water now, your skirts soaked and dragging in the current. You are expecting him to unsheathe the massive, hooked axe on his back, to bring your death down upon you swiftly—but he does not even reach for it. Instead, he reaches for your face, cupping your chin in his huge hand. 
“What are you called?” When you answer, he rolls your name around in his mouth like mead. He turns your head this way and that, like someone inspecting an animal for sale. You know he must feel it, the race of your pulse under his fingertips. After a moment, he pulls back, directing his sharp gaze over his shoulder. 
“Bring a horse for her, Buck.” He says, licking his lips. You watch as a ripple passes through the pack at the impact of his decision.
“What—what are you doing?” You ask hoarsely, your teeth still clenched tight with fear. He grins at you over his shoulder as he makes for the bank.
“A deal’s a deal, Sweetmeat,” he replies, beckoning you to follow. “You get to live.” 
to be continued
next
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1800jjbarnes · 1 year
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𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
【Synopsis】 : You find out your Super Soldier Boyfriend has a kink that also happens to be right up your ally.
『Word count』 : 300 
Pairing : Beefy!Steve x Reader
[Warnings] : Spitting, bodily fluids, pet names.
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How could you possibly even begin to think of such a dirty act? You had simply made a joke upon the matter, never considering the sin-filled fantasy would come to pass. You never even batted an eye that your boyfriend could have such a fetish, yet here you are. Waiting ever so patiently for him to do what he promised. He asked you to sit between his legs while he sat on the couch. You rested your head on his large thigh, feeling his muscles tense when he began to lean forward. His fingers grip your chin, pulling you ever so slowly and softly. His eyes were intensely glued to yours, a sly smirk growing on his sunkissed and tainted skin.
"You ready, Honey?" His lips were so close to yours, yet so far. You were becoming desperate, and the need for his touch grew stronger. You nodded like a ridiculous kid wanting their favourite food.
"Open wide. Tongue out." his voice was deep, husky, barely above a whisper. You followed his orders swiftly, your fingers digging tightly onto his clothed thighs. "What a good baby." His hand that held your chin caressed your cheek sweetly, even though you know there is a sadistic tension behind it.
"My beautiful..." His hand gripped your chin sharply, tugging you upwards. "...Beautiful, baby." And just like that, he spits directly into your mouth, sending a cold shiver down your spine. Like electricity crackled through your veins. You've never felt so turned on, so exhilarated. You needed more. Pulling yourself up, your nails dug into his skin while you chased his lips. He couldn't help but chuckle with sin crawling from his aura. He had you wrapped around his fingers, putty in his hand. And he was going to abuse his power until his last breath.
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astheskycries · 4 months
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Accepted- 6
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Planning a wedding with the man she loves and working small jobs with SHIELD seems like an easy task, but now that Jonathan is dead, Maggie and Steve have to continue tracking down HYDRA and cleaning up the mess left behind- which is easier said than done when the Winter Soldier has returned.
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Bucky shifts a bit, feeling a bit like a caged animal in his suit but grateful they allowed him his metal prosthetic, at least being able to use both hands again and doodle on the spare memo pad Tony’s lawyers gave him to ease his nerves. “How much longer until they’re ready?”
“Soon, White Wolf,” T’Challa smiles a bit, watching Bucky’s nervous pacing in the hall. Though they’ve already done their openings, the recess the prosecution requested has done nothing to ease Bucky’s nerves. “I’m sure you’ll do well. Between Tony and me, you have the best defense team money can buy.” He glances at his watch. “The girls should be on their mission by now; they will let you know once they find something.”
“You also have a reason, Buck.” Steve steps in to block his best friends’ path, squeezing his shoulder and not even reacting to T’Challa’s confirmation. “What happened to you, what you did… That wasn’t you.”
Bucky’s silent for a moment, looking past Steve’s shoulder to see Ross’s smirk as he heads back to the stand. “But I did it.”
“Damn it!” I curse, shooting into gunfire from where I was hiding behind the metal shelves. “Nat, Wanda, it’s an ambush. I need backup on the lower floor, I already have the data, but it won’t mean a damn thing if we don’t make it out of here.”
Red light swirls, and I hear cries of pain before it falls silent again. “I think I’ve subdued most of them,” Wanda grabs my hand, helping me back to my feet. “I’m grabbing a few more files before we go, in case not everything is in the hard drive. Between Stark and Shuri we should be able to-”
“Move!” I shove her hard, gasping out as pain floods my senses, making me stumble back and grip my side. I feel something warm and wet, and I wince as the added pressure only makes the pain throb. I glance down to see more pooling between my fingers, and I curse, gripping the shelf as Wanda knocks them out with her magic. “Fuck, the drive…”
Wanda uses her powers to help close the gash, using her other hand to grab the drive from my pocket. “It’s fine, what you should be worried about is you.” She uses her powers to help me walk, keeping her eyes out for more. “Maggie is hit, we need to retreat to the van and stop the bleeding.”
“FRIDAY, get Tony and send a ride,” I manage, wincing as I try to focus through the constant throbbing and feeling more and more dizzy as the seconds pass- a bad sign, but not one I want to distract from the goal. “The safe house is likely compromised if we were ambushed.”
“I’m on it,” Natasha says calmly, though I hear a strangled scream from her side of the comm.- thankfully not hers. “Just make it to the van, we’ll get you help.”
I nod weakly as the dizziness becomes harder to ignore, releasing a trembling breath when Wanda’s magic releases me and I collapse onto the seat, unable to do anything but try desperately to hold on. “Steve…”
Wanda and Nat share a look, Natasha looking uncharacteristically concerned as she works the controls. “Message him, FRIDAY. He should know the mission was compromised.”
“Your crimes against America, the world, are insurmountable.” Ross’ voice carries across the crowded room, full of reporters and families of known victims of the Winter Soldier. “You’ve single handedly caused a majority of the world’s most influential crimes, all at the hands of HYDRA.”
Bucky adjusts in his seat at the stand, looking uncomfortable. “I did,” He swallows, unable to look away from families with tears in their eyes. “I did, and I remember all of them.” The jury whispers amongst themselves, and he continues. “I remember them all because I relive them over and over again.” He closes his eyes when he hears the break in his voice, thinking of Howard’s stunned face. “Every night, I just see their faces… It’s gotten worse since I remembered. I know how out of control I felt. I remember feeling helpless, like I was watching someone else hurting everyone around me. Then the pain of being frozen back up like a piece of meat,” Bucky shakes his head, swallowing but determined to be as strong as he can. “I hated it. I hated thinking or feeling, because it hurt too much. It hurt to think about who I killed, what I left behind, if someone had a wife or kids they wouldn’t see again. And I- I tried to run, tried to wrap my head around what I did and make amends by staying away from everyone.” 
“And you ran, instead of facing the consequences.” Ross shakes his head. “You ran because you knew you were guilty.”
“I am guilty.” Bucky watches Steve shift in his seat, the king placing a hand on the blond’s shoulder to keep him under control- the Steve he knows well. “I ran because I needed time to understand what happened in the gaps they iced me, and I wanted- needed- to understand the crimes I committed so I could work on atoning for them. I don’t deserve to be treated differently from anybody else.”
“Your Honor, the jury has reached a decision.” A voice from the stands calls, rising with a sheet of paper in his hands. “We do not need further time to evaluate.”
“Your honor, I’d like to say something,” Bucky clears his throat nervously, but he forces himself to make eye contact with everyone who was related to a victim- to someone he hurt or killed. “No matter what these results are… I want to apologize. To the families and friends of those I- I made suffer under HYDRA. It’s not enough, and it never will be, but I am truly sorry for what I did and I will always try to atone for what I did. Your family and friends didn’t deserve what was done to them, and I take full responsibility for what I did as the Winter Soldier.”
The judge clears his throat, the jury’s paper in his hand. “The findings of this court and jury are as follows… James Buchanan Barnes is hereby cleared of all charges, and pardoned for his war crimes under the torture and exploitation of HYDRA.”
Bucky blinks back tears, seeing the room erupt with cheers and questions, but what makes his tears fall is the sight of the family and friends standing and clapping, nodding to him in at best acknowledgement and acceptance of HYDRA’s influence on his acts. Ross looks peeved, but says nothing as he returns to his sear and Bucky is guided through the exit by security, T’Challa and Steve on each side as they ignore the flashes of cameras and questions the press is shouting at him.
For better or for worse, Bucky Barnes is a free man.
“How long do we have until we’re back at the safe house?” I wince at the sharpness in Wanda’s tone, her using some of her powers to help keep the wrap secure on my side. “I can only do so much before she’ll need medical attention.”
Natasha curses in Russian, and I feel the engine push as she speeds up, the rough terrain hard on the large gash on my side. “We’ll be there any minute, I can stitch her up before Tony’s jet gets here.” She curses again as the van hits a hard bump, making a strangled noise escape my lips where I’ve tried to be silent. “FRIDAY, have Tony speed up the jet and contact Steve. We need him home.”
“Captain Rogers has not answered any messages since 3pm,” The AI chirps, and if I didn’t know better I’d think she sounded apologetic. “Would you like me to contact King T’Challa?”
“No,” I grind, tensing as I try to fight through the wave of pain. “If he’s not answering it’s because he’s busy.”
Nat frowns, not bothering to hide the disapproval on her face. “Maggie…”
“Right now I care more about not bleeding out,” I manage weakly, crying out a bit when we hit another bump and nearly blacking out. “Nat-”
“Damn it,” Nat curses, stopping and jerking the gear into park as she nearly leaps over the seat. “Wanda, I need you on standby. We don’t have much time, I need to- Maggie, stay awake! FRIDAY, get Bruce and Tony on the line!”
It’s too late; the darkness sweeps over me, and I finally rest in sweet relief from the pain.
Tags:  @janeyboo  @mylittlefandomfanfictions  @palaiasaurus64 @averyrogers83  @guera31  @soulmates8  @coffeebooksandfandom  @sweater-daddiesdumbdork  @pegasusdragontiger  @mizzzpink  @onetwo3000  @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars  @sleepylunarwolf  @wheresmyplums  @smoothdogsgirl  @marvelouslyme96  @esoltis280  @jtargaryen18 @k-evans-writes  @rainbowkisses31  @buchanansebba  @katiew1973  @patzammit  @time-for-a-lullaby
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vbecker10 · 11 days
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Laundry Day
Loki's POV of events: How Could This Not Fit?!
Bucky's spin-off fic: Loads of Fun (different Y/N character) - in progress
Pairing: Loki x female reader (ofc)
Summary: You and Loki are living together in the Avengers Tower and you've asked him to help you with the laundry. You decide it's the perfect opportunity to prank him but that might not have been a good idea... not if you wanted to sleep tonight that is.
Warnings: ... um nothing really, alluding to sex but not much
A/N: I finished my laundry and was folding (trying desperately to fold) my fitted sheet and I came up with this silly little thing so... enjoy 💚
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You take a bottle of water out of the fridge in the common kitchen, laughing to yourself as you shake your head.
"Something funny in the fridge?" Tony asks from the island, looking up from his tablet.
You turn to him and open the bottle. "No, I was just laughing about something that could possibly get me in a lot of trouble with Loki," you barely explain.
"I have no idea what that means," Steve says as he and Bucky join the conversation.
You take a sip of water and set the bottle on the island. "I was tired of being the one who did our laundry all the time so I told Loki he needed to help me with it today," you start to tell them.
"Still not seeing the funny," Tony says sarcastically.
"I'm getting there," you wave away his comment and he chuckles. "So anyway, I told him to help and he did... an okay job of it. I mean, the dryer and him got in a bit of a fight but we finally got it done," you continue.
"Did he break the dryer cause I've gotta do like four loads of laundry tonight?" Bucky asks concerned as he pulls out the stool next to Steve.
"How could you possibly have to do four loads of laundry?" Tony turns towards him. "You own one hoodie and three henleys at most," he adds.
"Can we get back to my problem?" you pull their attention back to yourself. "I might not have much time left," you joke but you aren't actually sure how long until Loki comes looking for you.
"What did you do to him?" Steve asks, sounding concerned for your safety. Loki would never hurt you of course, he loved you too much, but when you annoyed him you always found it hard to walk the next day.
"Well, he put all the laundry away using his magic but I told him that was cheating. He said it wasn't and we went back and forth for a bit until I made him a bet," you smile. Loki could never resist a wager, especially since he always assumed he would win, and he usually did. "I bet him... something," you suddenly realize you don't necessarily want the guys to know the dirty things you promised Loki and they all look away awkwardly for a moment as if they understood that.
"Right, whatever... so the bet was for him to make the bed himself, without his magic," you tell them.
"Look, I still don't like him very much but, give him a little credit. I think he's smart enough to figure it out," Bucky says.
"Yeah, that doesn't really seem like a bet you're going to win, Y/N," Steve agrees.
"Well... I might not have except for one teeny tiny little bitty detail," you assure them.
"Which is?" Tony asks with a mixture of curiosity and agitation that the story is taking so long.
"I switched the sheet set," you say, they all stare at you confused and you sigh. "I gave him a full size set... and we have a queen bed. There's not a chance in hell he's going to be able to get the fitted sheet on and if he does manage it, I'll know he used his magic and still win," you smile broadly, proud of yourself for tricking the trickster God.
"Well that's a dangerous game to play," Steve says and before you can respond you hear Loki coming down the hall.
"Y/N," he says when he enters the kitchen. You swallow as your mouth goes dry, he does not look happy. "You cheated," he says without question.
"No, I was just..." you try to explain but he walks towards you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
"You... cheated," he says slowly as he backs you into the counter by the sink.
"I mean, only a little," you say with a smile but he doesn't smile back. "And I only did it to make sure you didn't use your magic," you quickly try to explain.
"Um, I think we should go... literally anywhere else," Steve says as Loki grips your waist with both hands and keeps you pressed between himself and the counter.
"Don't worry, we're leaving," Loki says with a smirk, still looking only at you. Without warning he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You gasp and the suddenness of it and he uses one arm to hold you in place by the back of your legs as he turns to leave the kitchen. He pauses and picks up your water bottle. "You'll need to keep hydrated, it's going to be a very long night, love," he says as he carries you down the hall towards your room.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚
@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @theaudacitytowrite @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @foxherder @tonystank8
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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months
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📖"Temporary Custody"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 3620
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
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Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.
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Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost
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6. Somethin' with Bananas
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Steve
Steve wakes up to Bucky spooning him, pressing his morning wood against his ass. He hums with his eyes still closed, enjoying the feeling. “Mmm, g’morning.”
Hands slide onto his hips. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”
Steve smiles. “Sunshine” is one of Bucky’s favorite pet names for him. Steve is rather fond of it too, after so many years together. His husband has a knack for making him feel special like that. “What’re you doin', Buck?” he warns softly, still smiling because he likes the feeling of being explored, even if they can't take this far right now because of—
“She left for work a while ago,” Bucky murmurs, the answer to a question that Steve hasn’t asked. Alone time doesn’t happen as much as it used to, these days. "Left a bunch of baking stuff out on the counter. There's a note threatening us with mortal peril if we eat any of her bananas."
"Hmm." Steve yawns deeply and wiggles his butt back against his husband's noticeable hardon. "Whas'she makin'?"
"Dunno. Somethin' with bananas." Bucky’s hand slides to the juncture of Steve’s legs. He palms the half hard line of his cock from over his briefs, massaging the bulge as it grows. Steve moans a little and tips his head back to Bucky’s shoulder, a wordless request for kisses. Bucky starts lavishing his neck with attention while his hand continues its slow work.
Steve loves moments like this. Early morning, the sun barely out and the world quiet, the bedroom air still and thick from sleep; easy, instinctual fucking; simple and not complicated, just the two of them loving on each other. He inhales a little sharper when Bucky finally slides his hand under the waistband of his underwear. “Yeah,” he whispers.
“Mmhm.” Bucky kisses his neck. “This what you wanted, Honey?” His hand is wrapped flush around Steve now, skin on skin. He strokes once up and down and gives a squeeze, starts up a slow, tight rhythm.
“Oh.” Steve bites his lip, eyes closed as he just feels what Bucky’s doing to him. “Mm. Mmhm. S’real good.” He shivers when Bucky’s thumb swipes at his cockhead, spreading the wetness around and pressing firm against his slit. “Fuck …”
“Always were a leaker,” Bucky says lowly. “You get so wet, Honey.”
“Buck,” Steve whines. He loves Bucky’s talk in bed but he’s never been able to handle it. It turns him into a pitiful mess, every time.
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Bucky
Bucky just chuckles, knowing the effect he has on him. He’s Dominant. Winding Steve around his little finger comes naturally to him, and Steve can’t say he doesn’t like it. “You were making pretty sounds in your sleep,” Bucky says, murmuring the words in between kisses on Steve’s neck. “Moaning and moving your hips a little.” He demonstrates, pushing his own hips up against Steve’s ass. Steve makes an embarrassed, whimpery sort of noise that goes straight to Bucky’s cock, and he shushes him. “Shh, no. It was hot, Stevie. You were feeling real good in your sleep, huh?”
“Y-yeah.”
“What were you dreaming about?” Bucky presses his thigh forward, between Steve’s legs, crowding him that much closer. “Hm?”
“Her,” Steve says breathily. “I … h-her.”
“Mary?” Bucky grins against the skin of his neck. “Having dirty dreams about our girl, huh?”
Steve moans—whether at Bucky calling her ‘their girl’, or at the way his other hand is now reaching down to cup Steve’s sac, isn’t clear. Bucky gives a gentle squeeze and tug, then rolls the weight of his testicles in his palm. Steve, who’s always been keen on having his balls played with, moans louder and nods against the pillow. “Didn’t mean to,” he says, as if he needs to defend his character.
Bucky grins like a shark and nips his earlobe. “Course not. You just couldn’t help it, could you? She’s always there, moaning around bites of cream filled pastries, showing off her ass in those leggings—”
Steve groans.
“—Giving us attitude every day like she wants a spanking, but dropping so sweet by the end’a the night.” He can see pink spreading around to the back of Steve’s neck and shoulders now. His Stevie colors so easily. Bucky licks delicately along the shell of his ear and whispers, “Tell me. Tell me what you did to her in the dream.” Steve moans and doesn’t answer for a long while, maybe too distracted by Bucky’s hand that’s still stroking him slowly. Bucky stills, opens his hand and presses Steve’s cock up against his stomach. “Steve,” he warns. “Tell me.”
“... Wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles, embarrassed. “It was you. You were touching her, fucking her.”
Bucky’s guts tighten in arousal. “Oh?” he breathes. “You like thinkin’ about that? Like thinking about me laying her out? Her spreading her legs for me right here on this bed?” Steve groans and nods, whining impatiently and humping forward for more. Bucky chuckles and takes him in hand again, squeezing his shaft and fondling his balls. They’re tighter now, drawn up closer to his body as he gets more worked up. “So?” Bucky needles, when he still hasn’t gotten an answer. “Is that what you want?”
“Bucky, nngh, Yes, alright?”
“Mmhm.” He chuckles softly and nuzzles Steve’s neck, enjoying his husband’s flustered state. “But you know, I think I’d like to watch you.” He can just picture it: Steve’s muscled, strong body moving over her soft curves, his big hands holding her open gently—because everything Steve does is gentle—while he makes her cum on his cock. “Yeah. You like that idea, Big guy? Me too. I wanna watch this big fat dick—” he squeezes his fist on Steve— “plowing her sloppy, making her cum so good she even cries a little bit.” Steve whines again, and Bucky hums in agreement. “Mmhm. It’d be so hot, Stevie.”
Steve squirms against him in distress. “I, I’ve never … With girls I mean. I���m not … I’ve never …” he peters off, and Bucky’s got no idea what he’s saying.
“What?” He frowns and ruts his erection against the cleft of Steve’s ass for a little relief. “What’re you talking about, Baby? You’ve been with women before. College?”
Steve shakes his head against the pillow. “No, I mean I … I don’t know what to do. To make ‘em feel good. I’m … not good at it.”
Bucky actually stops what he’s doing. Steve grunts at the lack of touch, but Bucky just hushes him and pulls on his shoulder, urging him to turn over. “Hey. C’mere. Look at me.” Steve’s face is indeed colored pink when he turns to lie facing Bucky. His eyes flick up briefly, but dart away again, shy. Bucky’s heart squeezes. “Oh, Honey,” he says, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw. “Who told you that?” He thinks of murdering whatever coed bitch might’ve made Steve feel self-conscious.
Steve looks mortified. “Nobody did. Just … I could tell. The times I was with ‘em. I couldn’t make them, you know, cum.” He looks so ashamed as he admits it, and Bucky wants to grab him and kiss all over his entire face.
“Aw, Steve,” he coos. “Is that it? You’re nervous about being with a woman again? Not confident?”
Steve nods. He tucks himself against Bucky’s body and presses his face in his neck, hiding there. “Women are hard,” he mumbles. “I like ‘em, but it’s not easy.”
Bucky chuckles a little. “Yeah, that’s for sure. But it’s not that bad, baby. You just gotta know a few basics. Gotta take it real slow and feel them out, find out what makes her feel good. Every girl’s different. That’s the beauty in it.”
Steve grunts and ruts up against him, their cocks knocking together between their bellies. “Tell me?” he asks, eager and sweet. “Please, Buck? Tell me how.”
Bucky feels like half the blood leaves his brain, his dick throbbing anew. “Fuck,” he breathes, crazy turned on at the idea. “You want me to teach you, Stevie? Teach you how to get her crying? Dripping wet? How to touch her so good you make her cum?”
Steve shivers and nods, grinding his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder in embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah I want you to. Want you to teach me.”
Bucky pulls Steve’s head up to make him look at him. His face is pinched—embarrassed but wanting. Bucky curses. “Fuck. Yeah, yeah baby I’ll teach you how. C’mere.” He moves up the bed, pulling Steve’s meaty shoulders to get him to follow, directing him to sit in his lap, back to chest as Bucky props them up against the headboard. He spreads his legs wide to accommodate Steve’s bulk, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “My little overachiever,” he murmurs. “Such a Boy Scout, always wanting to be the best you can be.”
Steve huffs. “Don’t think they gave out merits for eating pussy,” he quips, uncharacteristically lewd. 
Bucky barks out a laugh in delight. “Well pay attention, Sweetheart. You’re about to earn that badge.” Steve shudders against him, but he’s leaning back against Bucky, slumped just a little lower in his lap. He’s ready to listen, and Bucky’s fucking hot at the chance to tell. “First thing you gotta know,” he says, speaking delicately and smoothing his hands over Steve’s sides. “Is forget what you’ve seen in porn. They make that shit for us, not them. It’s all fake. No better way to make a girl miserable than to go pounding into her or whatever else.”
Steve makes a questioning noise, and God bless him, Bucky knows instantly that this is news to the big dummy. “But …” he hedges.
“No buts, Honey.” Bucky kisses his ear. “You gotta be so gentle. Always start soft, always go slow. Start that way and pay attention to her reactions.” He skims his fingertips up Steve’s ribs, tickling lightly over to his pecs and back down, making him gasp. “Yeah,” Bucky hums, “Just like that. She might be quiet at first, girls don’t moan all loud right off the bat. They don’t get worked up as fast as we do. They take time.”
Steve nods, panting a little as he listens to him. “W-what then?” he asks.
“Listen to her breathing, the sounds she makes. She’ll start breathing heavier when you’ve got her feeling good, start making little sounds without even realizing she’s doin’ it.” Steve looses a tiny whimper and Bucky grins. “Yeah, just like that.” He reaches down and finds Steve’s cock again, and god it’s sexy how wet his fella can get. He strokes him a few times, just languidly, letting the precum guide the slide of his fist. Not hurrying. Showing Steve what he means when he says ‘slow’.
“Oh,” Steve breathes, sounding gone for it.
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “And then when she starts moving her hips?” He presses his crotch into the small of Steve’s back. “Just rubbing herself against you or humping up in the air a little? Oh yeah, that’s when she’s into it.” He brings one hand up to cradle Steve’s pec. “Girls are more sensitive here than we are,” he tells him. He’s looking over Steve’s shoulder now, eyeing up what he’s doing. He flicks his thumb over the nipple—so freaking small and petal pink where Bucky’s are darker. And he’s so responsive, the nipple pebbling up with hardly any effort on Bucky’s part. “Mmhm,” Bucky hums approvingly. “You want to try different things. You can just hold ‘em …” he uses both hands and cups the meat of Steve’s chest, giving a proprietary squeeze. Steve moans and Bucky smiles. “Yeah. But not too hard. Treat her tits like they’re something delicate, somethin’ special.” He makes the motion to Steve’s pecs like he would do to lightly bounce a woman’s breasts in his palms. “And Mary, she’s got smaller tits. A nice, healthy handful, just like you.”
Steve whines and squirms impatiently in his lap. Bucky glances down to check, and sees Steve’s cock; abandoned on his stomach, dark, and leaking. It’s so heavy and thick, the foreskin drawn halfway down the head, showcasing the shiny pink tip of him. Bucky curses softly. Fuck, but he wants to wring an orgasm out of that cock like ten minutes ago. But he forces himself to stay the course.
“When you use your mouth on her nipples,” he whispers, voice soft like velvet in Steve’s ear, “You can lick. Or nibble a little.” He mimics each option with a stroke and then a pinch of his fingers on Steve’s nipples, flicking out with his tongue to get the shell of Steve’s ear. “But I’ll tell you what: most of ‘em like it best when you suck.” He uses all five fingertips drawn together to pull gently at the peaks of Steve’s chest, and Steve makes a hurt, wanting sound. “Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “Suck her nipples. Then fit as much of her in your mouth as you can and suck that too.” He takes pity on Steve and reaches back down for his cock. Steve cries out, and Bucky gentles him. “Shh sh sh. Remember: slow.”
Steve groans, his tight hips flexing and pushing his cock up into the curl of Bucky’s fist. “Buck, please.”
“It’s not about you,” Bucky chides. “You’re a man. You get to cum so easy and all the time. You gotta help her get there, give her what she deserves.”
Steve sobs a little, so worked up from all the teasing, but he falls back into Bucky, relaxing against his chest and laying himself open for Bucky to continue. Pride and adoration for his man well up in Bucky at the show of submission. “Good,” he praises, giving an extra indulgent twist on the next upstroke. Steve’s foreskin moves with the motions, making soft, wet noises with all the precum he’s leaking. Bucky hums appreciatively. “Yeah, lookit that.” He draws his hand all the way up, tight, and then dips his thumb into the folds, rubbing into that wetness, against the sensitive head. “If you’re doing it right, touching her enough, she’ll be wet by now,” he says. “But you still shouldn’t go for her pussy yet. Not yet.”
“What … what else?” Steve asks muzzily, like he can’t think of anything else to do that doesn’t involve his dick getting jerked off or sticking it in a hypothetical pussy.
“Tease her,” Bucky says. “Run your hands all over her body, all over her soft skin.”
Steve sighs happily. “I like how soft they are. Smooth.”
Hearing Steve talk about what he likes about women makes Bucky’s dick throb, and he grinds it against Steve’s lower back for some relief. “Mmhm,” he agrees, moving his hands up and down the skin of Steve’s ribcage, his belly, grabbing on at his hips and giving a proprietary jostle. “Dig your fingers into her, gentle but insistent. Let her feel how much you love her body.”
“Now?” Steve asks.
“Not yet,” Bucky whispers.
“Fuck. Bucky.”
“Tease her,” he insists, ignoring Steve’s pleading. He slides his hands down Steve’s thighs and inwards, pulling them apart. Steve moans and spreads them wide. “Exactly,” Bucky says. “You want to touch her here. Run your hands all over, so close to where she wants it. Remember, if you’ve been doing this right, she’ll be wet by now.” He goes back and strokes the wetness along Steve’s shaft. “Sink down between her legs and kiss her thighs—you’ll smell it.”
“Oh my god.”
Bucky smiles, in love with his husband for how easily he comes apart under his care. He traces down to the base of Steve’s cock, making a vee with two fingers and rubbing the skin on either side. “Put pressure on her mound, really close but not touching where she wants it. Not yet.” His other hand slides down and delicately traces the seam of Steve’s sac. “Tease her, trace her folds. Get a little bit of that wetness and rub it around to make her even more sensitive. And then …” He blows gently on Steve’s ear. Steve moans. “Just like that. You want to wait. Don’t give her your mouth until she’s whining and shovin’ up at you for it.”
“Nngh,”
Bucky chuckles and circles the wet pad of his finger over one testicle and then the other. He nudges at Steve’s taut sac and whispers in his ear. “Push her lips apart.”
Steve is breathing hard through his nose, tense, his dick bobbing rock hard and angry in the air. Bucky has mercy on him and reaches for it, and Steve chokes out a sob of relief at only the slightest touch.
Bucky kisses his temple soothingly. “Shh. Here. Riiight here.” He holds the head between his thumb and fingers and starts jacking just the tip of him, foreskin tugging and gliding in that way that he knows feels amazing for Steve. “Right above her sweet spot, see? You rub on her like this, up and down, back and forth. Work the hood over her clit juuust like this.”
Steve makes a debased groan at the echo of what Bucky’s saying, and how he’s working Steve’s foreskin over the head of his dick. “Fuck, fuck,” he hisses.
“Yeah, you’re close. She’s soaked by now. You think it’s time to give her more?”
“Bucky. Yes, yes, please.” His hips are straining upwards but he lets his head loll back on Bucky’s shoulder, open for what he’ll do next. “Please,” he begs.
“Now this is important, baby, so pay attention,” Bucky says. “Some women like a mouth on ‘em down there, some don’t. Some do, but they have a hang up over how they think they look or taste or something.” Steve makes a sad noise at that, matching Bucky’s opinion that: yeah, women shouldn’t worry so much. Pussy is just generally fucking awesome. “Tell her how much you love it,” he says. “The taste of her, the shape of her lips. Make her feel pretty and wanted.” He’s fondling Steve’s balls anew as he says this, rubbing and rolling them, then cupping his whole palm over them and dipping behind to dig fingertips into his taint. “Come on, Stevie,” he goads, “Let me hear it. Tell me what you’d say.”
It takes Steve a few tries before he can pull enough of his brain out of his dick to rasp, “S’fucking gorgeous p-pussy. So … so wet. Can I lick it Honey, huh? Please lemme lick it. Wanna taste that sweet cunt.”
Bucky gasps, shocked and delighted at Steve’s dirty talk. “Oh, Stevie,” he groans. “Baby. Fuck, yes. I didn’t know you had it in you.” He wraps his hand fully around Steve’s cock and starts jerking him off fast, fast enough that it’s obvious he’s finally aiming to make Steve cum, and Steve chokes on a relieved heave of breath. 
"Yes! Oh, thank you!”
Bucky attacks Steve’s neck with his mouth, biting and smearing spit and scraping his teeth over the wet skin. He growls as he watches his fist working furiously over Steve's red, hard dick. “Suck her clit while you fuck her on your fingers,” he rasps. “Tell her she’s a good girl, tell her to ride your face, grind down on your hand. Make sure she knows she’s allowed to let go.”
Steve cries out, guttural and loud like he always gets when his pleasure is cresting. “Bucky, Buck. Honey, oh. F-fuck, m’close.”
“Mmhm. Thaat’s it, Princess,” he says, pitching his voice just so and using that name so that Steve knows. Knows he’s talking to her.
Steve whines, his whole body tight and straining into Bucky’s grip.
“Curl your fucking fingers in her,” Bucky growls. “She’s close. Don’t slow down. Don’t even speed up. She likes what you’re doing now, so don’t you dare fucking change a thing.”
“Bucky!”
“That’s it, Princess, just like that. You’re almost there.”
“Fuck, fuck … ssshit …”
“Ride Daddy’s hand, fuck back on it. Good girl.”
Steve jerks and shouts, cock pulsing in telltale contractions, before searing ropes of come shoot up his stomach and all over Bucky’s hand. “Oh, oh, oh!” He grunts through it with gorgeous sounds, and Bucky’s so in love with the sight of it that he’s not roleplaying anymore when he purrs, “Fucking beautiful, Sweetheart.”
Steve slumps when it’s over, still panting from the pleasure. Bucky eases off, sets his wet and slowly softening dick gently against his stomach. He moves them, guiding Steve to turn over and lie out on his front. He shoves Steve’s legs together and straddles them, swipes his hand that’s covered in Steve’s release into the tight space between his thighs, wetting him up. He growls viciously, pent up and rock hard and ready to fucking cum. He ruts into the wet clench of Steve’s thick thighs, fucking him like he’s got a loose, easy cunt. “Fuck, baby,” he grits, close within a matter of minutes. He chases his orgasm and collapses onto Steve’s broad back when it hits, grinding in hard one last time and shouting loud and guttural with how goddamn good it feels. “Fuck! Ughn, f-ffuuck.” 
He comes down heaving, panting against Steve’s skin. Steve is strong enough that he can roll out from under his weight, and he pulls Bucky into his arms and draws his head onto his chest. Bucky goes gratefully, happy to have Steve’s firm pecs as a pillow. “God, honey,” he breathes, wrung out. Steve makes a noise of agreement. They just lie there together, sweaty and spent, catching their breath for a long time.
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“... Buck?”
“Yeah?”
“… You’re a good teacher.”
Bucky laughs and crawls up to kiss Steve on the mouth. “Yeah,” he says when they part. “But that wasn’t even the main event.” Steve looks confused for a second, before Bucky slyly clarifies: “You still gotta fuck her. And you know you want to make her cum at least twice.”
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Self Control.
Javi keeps refusing himself what he wants. One night puts everything into perspective.
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Pairing - Javier Peña x female reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - Cursing, mentions of blood and death
Word Count - 3429
Author's Note - hello lovely people, hope you're all well. i've been a huge fan of pedro pascal since his narcos days, so all of this love for him happening currently is making me very happy. javier peña is perhaps my favourite tv character of all time, so i'm very excited to share this story with you. i'd always love to write more javi stuff, so if you ever have any thoughts, please send them my way. i'm happy to write for all pedro characters actually!! as always, much love x
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It wasn't supposed to go like this. 
It was supposed to be simple. A routine raid. Get the information and go. 
How did it all go so wrong? 
Gunshots. Blood. A sea of green uniforms scattering the ground. Escobar had somehow known about it. He was taking no prisoners. 
The Search Bloc had lost men. The Colombian Police had lost men. You were just praying that you hadn't. 
Javier Peña and Steve Murphy were still out there. You had no idea if they were okay. They could be shot, bleeding out. Kidnapped. Or worse. 
No. 
You're driving yourself insane thinking of all the possible worse case scenarios. Your mind can't help but go there. It's instinct. 
You're sat waiting. Hoping. Praying. You've made your home at Javi and Steve's desks - they're more central to the action than your own. You're watching the front doors, sat in Javi's chair. It smells like cigarette smoke, and musk, and him. You let the familiar scent envelope you, allowing it to bring you comfort. You breathe him in. He'll be here soon. You know he will.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Javier Peña was a complicated man. An enigma. He was tough, but gentle. Rugged, but tender. Commanding, but reserved. He was one big juxtaposition. Impossible to read. 
Or so he thought. 
You came along, and challenged every single one of his existing beliefs. You turned him soft - more understanding, more empathetic. He'll tell you he hates it. He lies. 
You weren't supposed to be here. Not really. You'd followed your brother, a DEA agent, all the way from Texas to Colombia. He'd told you he was being sent to South America to assist with the Pablo Escobar situation, and you'd packed your bags without a second thought. You had no one else. Wherever he goes, you go. Except one place. 
He'd died two months into the job. Shot dead by Escobar's men, in a situation that he shouldn't have even been in. And all of a sudden, you were alone. Alone in an unfamiliar place. Alone in the world. 
Javier made sure that wasn't true. He took you under his wing like an injured baby bird, slowly but surely nursing you back to health. He'd been there, when Carrillo had told you the fate of your brother. He'd caught you in his arms when your knees had given out, held you like he was scared you were going to shatter into a thousand pieces. He was holding you together. He has been, ever since. 
You were just a secretary. The odd one out. The only woman. Looked down on. People pitied you, really. You heard the things they said. Even if you didn't understand, you heard. You could take a guess. 
The world was a terrifying place for a woman. It was a terrifying place in general. But it seemed to be less scary knowing that Javier and Steve were at their desks just across the precinct every day. Your safety blankets. Your protectors. Which is exactly why the thought of losing either of them was currently ripping you apart from the inside out.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your eyes shot up every time the door opened. Slowly but surely, members of the Search Bloc filtered in - many of them bloody, and injured, but alive. You weren't taking your eyes off the entrance to the precinct. Not for a second. Not when any minute, Peña and Murphy could walk in, and everything would be okay again. Any minute now, you reassure yourself. Any minute now. 
You hear steel toe boots on the linoleum floor, and your breath hitches… but it’s Colonel Carrillo. He spots you from across the room and strides over, ignoring any pleas for his attention from the Search Bloc guys. He envelopes you in a hug - professionalism be damned.
“Are you okay?”, you ask when he pulls back. “What happened? I’ve been going insane listening over the radio.”
“I’m okay, mi amor. We’re still trying to figure out what went wrong. He knew, someone had to have told him.”
You’re just about to ask him about Murphy and Peña when he says,
“We got separated in the chaos. I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure they’re fine. Try not to panic, okay?”
He’s looking at you carefully, and you’re nodding, but you know you aren’t going to take his advice. If anything, now you’re panicking more. Men are filtering through the door every minute, but none of them are the two you’re looking for. Anxiety creeps into your stomach, wraps its claws around your insides. You can’t shake it. You feel like you’re being swallowed by dread - it’s all too familiar. You know exactly what it’s like to have someone you love go into the field and not return.
Carrillo strokes your cheekbone with his thumb gently, and leaves to attend to his men. You sit back down in Javi’s chair, trying to burrow into his scent, the warmth of the leather. You can imagine his big strong arms wrapping themselves around you, the way he nuzzles his nose into the crown of your head when he hugs you, how he traces patterns on your back when he holds you when you’re particularly upset. 
You think about Steve, and the way he winks at you when you catch eye contact across the room, or how he throws an arm around your shoulders whenever he sidles over to your desk to bother you. He’s always stealing candy from your top drawer, and then acting innocent when you call him out on it. You feign annoyance, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You know you’re lucky to have the two of them looking out for you. You know you’re lucky to have Carrillo on your side too - life would be undoubtedly more difficult without his protection. They make you feel less vulnerable, more equal. You no longer feel like a lamb at the slaughter every time you walk into work. 
Drops of water hit your lap, and you realize you’re crying. Warm, wet tears slide down your cheeks, taking streaks of your mascara with them. Your lipstick has smudged where you’ve been peeling at the skin of your lips, and your nail polish has been incessantly picked at for hours. You know you look just as much of a mess on the outside as you feel on the inside. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Calm down, you tell yourself. You’d know if something bad had happened to them. You’d feel it. 
It’s as if time has become molten - sticky, warm molasses. Minutes feel like hours. The world is moving in slow motion, and it’s making you dizzy. Your breath is coming in short, sharp pants, and the urge to curl up into a ball grows stronger by the second. If the boys don’t show up soon, you’re convinced you’re going to crumble into a thousand pieces. You feel like you’re shattering, splitting apart at the seams. Fear sits on your chest like an ugly, relentless creature, choking you with each passing minute. The world is getting colder, darker, and you’re defenseless.
And just like that, your sun appears. Battered, bruised, bloody, but alive. Standing in the doorway, panting and breathless, is Javier Peña. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re leaping out of his chair, and practically running to close the distance between you. You collide with the solid mass of a man, and he wraps his arms around you like it’s second nature. He smells like cigarettes and musk and gunpowder and the outdoors and smoke and home. Relief fills your body, and the weight of it almost knocks you off your feet. You settle further into his chest like you belong there, pressing your nose into him and inhaling. 
You pull away, and notice that his chest is damp. The tears from before are back with a vengeance, sprinting their way down your cheeks, forming puddles wherever they can reach. You’re not sure if you’re crying due to happiness, or fear, or relief - perhaps a mixture of all three. You’re both still panting, looking at each other in disbelief. You fist your hands into the front of his shirt, as if to ground yourself to him. Checking he’s real. In the flesh.
“Don’t cry, cariño. I’m here. I’m okay. We’re okay.” 
He’s murmuring quietly to you, as if you’re the only two people in the room. He reaches out, and gently uses his thumbs to swipe away the tears that are still escaping. Cradling your face in his big, calloused hands, he looks at you earnestly.
“I’ll always come back, bonita. You know I will. Just like I promised.”
He presses his forehead to yours, and for the first time in hours, you relax. You stay pressed together like that for what feels like an eternity, until you hear familiar footsteps approaching. 
You break away from Javier to get a good look at Steve. He too is battered and bruised - hair mussed, shirt torn, blood staining his jeans and his hands. But he’s alive. That’s all that matters.
“Murphy,” you breathe, before wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You’d go out there and take down Escobar yourself if you could. If it meant you didn’t have to see your friends in pain anymore. This job is killing you all from the inside out, slowly but surely. You’re all shells of yourselves. You wonder how much longer you’re all going to be able to cope before you snap. You have a feeling that these two men in front of you are closer to their breaking points than you think. 
“God, I need to shower. I’ve never sweat this much in my life,” Steve remarks, and now that you’re looking at him, you can’t help but agree. You nod, smirk etched on your face, and the corners of his lips turn up. A slight smile from Steve. That’s a win.
A voice rumbles from behind you in response to Murphy’s statement. Jesus, Javi was closer to you than you thought.
“Yeah, me too. You go. I’ll drive her home.” He places a hand on the small of your back, and you can feel the warmth of him seeping through his palm.  He always runs so hot, you think to yourself. Your sun.
Murphy squeezes your arm and heads out the door, leaving you and Javier standing in the middle of the precinct. Everyone seems to be heading home, the room becoming increasingly quiet. You figure the two of you should follow suit. You gesture at Javi to give you a minute, and make your way over to the Colonel’s office, popping your head in the doorway. 
“You should go home, Carrillo,” you say softly. “You need to sleep just as much as the rest of us.”
He smiles at you tentatively, his face dampened with worry. You can see clear as day that he’s blaming himself for the events of the evening. You also know that there’s nothing you can say to make it better.
“I will, querida. I will.”
And with that, you grab your things from your desk, and make your way over to where Javi is waiting for you. He returns his hand to the small of your back, and guides you to his car.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your hands are shaking when you try to unlock the front door to your apartment. You can’t quite get the key in the lock, and it’s becoming frustrating. Why are you acting like you were the one being shot at tonight? All you had to do was sit at your desk and wait. Get a grip, you tell yourself. You’ve had it the easiest.
Javi can see you’re struggling, so he reaches out and opens the door for you. You step inside, immediately kicking off your heels and throwing down your purse. You turn on the lamp in the corner of the living room, and draw the blinds. All the while, Javi stands in the doorway, watching you complete your nightly rituals. It’s disarming to see you like this, he thinks. So domestic. So at peace.
He clears his throat awkwardly, and places his hand on the doorknob.
“Let me leave you alone, cariño. You need to rest. The adrenaline of tonight is going to wear off any minute, and we’re all gonna crash.”
He takes a step, but you lunge forward in his direction to stop him.
“Wait! Wait. I - I don’t… I can’t - please.” You can’t find the right words. In fact, you’re not even sure what you’re asking for.
He steps back inside your apartment, and shuts the door behind him gently, making sure to lock the deadbolt. He’s never been a man to take stupid chances when it comes to your safety. When it comes to you.
“What is it, mi amor?”, he asks carefully. “What do you need?”
“You,” you answer without a second thought. “Please don’t leave. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight if you leave.”
He looks at you for a moment - carefully surveying. He takes in your appearance, the pain in your eyes, the way you look so small and fearful standing in front of him. It’s not even a question.
He kicks off his boots, and takes his wallet and his cigarettes out from the back pocket of his jeans, placing them on the counter. Then, he strides over, across the room, and smothers you in a hug that he’s convinced he probably needs more than you. 
You stand like that, embraced in each other, for what feels like forever. Two people breathing each other in, trying to absorb the other person. If you could crawl into Javier’s chest, bury yourself into his ribcage, you would. No hug is ever close enough. Never enough. It’s never enough.
“I’ll stay,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’ll always stay.”
You pull back to gaze into those big brown eyes, warm and sweet like chocolate. He looks serene, peaceful, almost. You don’t get to see him like this very often.
“You should shower,” you tell him quietly. You’re worried that you’re going to spook one another, so you both keep the volume to a minimum. “I’ll make us some tea.”
He nods gently, and makes his way to your bathroom. Moments later, you hear the water running, so you begin to boil the kettle, reaching for two mugs from your cabinet.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You place a mug of tea on each nightstand either side of your bed, and slip out of your skirt and blouse. You opt for a tank top and shorts - the Colombian heat still unrelenting, even in the early hours of the morning. The sun will be up soon, you think. A new day.
Javi stands in the doorway of your bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips. Droplets of water are journeying down his chest, and your eyes follow, as if on instinct. He smirks when he catches you, watching your face heat up slightly.
“Cute bedsheets,” he remarks. “I like the love hearts.”
He’s still smirking, so you get up to smack him on the arm.
“Shut up, Javier,” you threaten, with no real malice. “Your tea is on the nightstand.”
You turn your back when he changes back into his black boxers, which only amuses him further. He can’t help but admire you from his place across the room. The way your hair blows slightly with the breeze from the opened window, the band of skin between where your tank top ends and your shorts begin, the sweat at the nape of your neck. He knows you’d taste like salt and sugar simultaneously. It takes everything in him not to run his tongue up your spine. You shiver from your spot on the edge of the bed, as if you can read his mind.
“I’m dressed, querida,” he almost whispers. You turn around, and shamelessly let your eyes rake over his golden skin, wishing so badly to reach out and touch him. He’s wearing significantly less clothes than you expected. Not that you’re complaining.
He lays down carefully on one side of your bed, stretching himself out on his back. You turn off the lamp on the nightstand, and lay down on the other side, careful to keep some distance between the two of you. You thought that having him here would relax you, but it seems to be doing the opposite. You feel like your nerve endings are on fire - the room is too warm, you can’t seem to get your lungs to fill with air, you’re hyper aware of every little movement in the room. You’re on edge.
Javi’s breathing is deep, calculated. He’s trying to keep calm. Everything in him is screaming to reach out and touch you, to throw an arm around your waist, to tangle his legs in between yours. He’s not sure he’s ever shown this level of self control.
“Javi,” you breathe. “Relax, please. I can feel how tense you are from here.”
He takes a deep breath before he answers you.
“Sorry, mi vida. I’m just - I’m… I’m trying.”
“Trying?”
“Trying to use every inch of restraint that I have.”
Your breath hitches, and he hears it, clear as day.
“What for?” you whisper.
“To resist the urge to touch you.”
You’re breathing quicker now, and so is he. The air in the room is thick with tension - it’s a miracle you’re both still conscious. 
“You’ve never really been one to deny yourself of the things you want, Javi," you whisper. "You’re not usually the patron saint of self control.” 
And with that, he snaps. He grabs your hips, and uses effortless strength to pull you so you’re straddling him, settled in his lap. He sits up to bring your faces level, and presses his forehead into yours, just like he did mere hours ago in the precinct. 
You know that tonight has changed everything for the two of you. You also know there’s no going back from this - you can’t uncross this line. The friendship that exists between you and Javi, a relationship that’s been so carefully built on trust and support and boundaries - permanently altered if you continue. You just can’t seem to find it in you to care. Not really. You want Javier Peña for all he is, all he has. Consequences be damned.
“I love you, cariño,” he breathes into your mouth. “Fuck, I love you.”
You’re convinced that any minute, you’re going to wake up from this beautiful dream. But for now, you make the most of it.
“I love you, Javier Peña. I love you so much it hurts.”
And with that, he’s kissing you. It’s desperate, and it’s needy, and it’s so full of love you’re worried that you’re going to pass out. His lips are on your lips, and he’s got one hand firmly at the nape of your neck, holding you in place. As if I’m going anywhere, you think. I’d happily stay here forever.
You’re so lost in each other that you don’t notice the sunrise. Dawn hits the window, casting an orange hue across the room. Javi looks like he’s glowing, the sunlight glinting off his hair. Golden boy.
He pulls off your shirt, and presses his chest to yours. He’s convinced you’re tethered to each other - he can feel the connection through your skin. It almost makes him want to cry, this feeling. It’s never felt like this before. It never will again. 
You wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, ensuring that there isn’t a centimeter of space between you. You don’t know what today holds. You know it won’t be easy. But you’re comforted by the fact that you know Javi will be right there beside you. No matter what happens from this moment on, Javi is always going to be right there beside you.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you breathe into his mouth.
“I love you, mi alma,” he breathes back. “Mi corazón, mi alma.”
My heart, my soul. It’s as if he took the words right out of your mouth. 
Mi corazón, mi alma.
My heart, my soul.
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dungeonpuppykai · 13 days
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|| Fiddle ||
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Description: Curtis is a soldier from lands far away. Curtis loves to tease you. Curtis is a jerk. Curtis is your husband. You do your best to deny Curtis' existence. Curtis doesn't mind. Because Curtis knows you are a fiddle to his touch, whether you like to admit it or not.  
Pairing: Soft-Dark Army Chief!Curtis Everett | Spoiled Crown Princess!You. 
Disclaimer: I do not own Curtis Everett (sadly). This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 
Warning(s): Soft-Dark Curtis, he's kinda crusty dusty, forced/arranged marriage, power imbalance, fluffy smut with dark undertones that gets rough, groping, making out, dumbification, degradation, self degradation, ddlg undertones, he's intimidating, pet names, infantilization, play fighting, m!dom, f!sub, unprotected p-in-v intercourse, cock riding, overstimulation, doggy style fucking, spanking, choking, hair pulling, he's a man. 
Note: Was gonna post a Sy thing tonight but it's not done yet and I am extremely tired so here's a little Curtis piece I did the other day.
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Curtis' eyes are closed as he leans his head against the edge of the tub, his huge body relaxed in the warm water while a content smile tugs at his lips. There is nowhere in this whole wide world that he would rather be than in this moment right here; relaxed after a long day of hard work and in the proximity of his dear lady. The contemptuous voice of said lady, although hostile, is music to his ears as it rings in the distance between them while she begrudgingly rubs away at one of the many dirt spots on his body with the use of a soft sponge. 
"Ugh, what do I, The Crown Princess, get?!" You are muttering to yourself like a typical naggy wife. "A fuckin–" your words lock in your throat automatically when your husband's eyebrows furrow in disapproval. "A frickin' no name foreign soldier!" You hate how he doesn't even have to open his eyes to get you to correct yourself. "While all my stupid friends– stay still!" You reprimand when one of his arms that you had extended in your direction to scrub the grime off of begins to get antsy in your lap for the sole purpose of annoying you.
Curtis chuckles and that irks you even more, as if your tiara placed on the opposite side of the tub on a little stool for whatever reason glinting at you isn't enough. 
Your husband is a jerk and he's probably rubbing your nose in the fact that despite being all-powerful after your father The King, you still have to bathe his stupid dirty body like a common wife. 
Ugh, you hate him.
"I am sorry, my love."
But you can't protest in the way that you want. 
Because your stupid father had issued a decree upon your arranged union to him. That you would only be able to keep your crown if you stayed true to your husband and kept him happy. Otherwise, the Army Chief -a stupid title held by your idiot of a husband- could usurp your future throne and do with the kingdom -and you- as he pleased. 
You hated it. 
But you loved your position more. 
However, your rascal of a husband made it even harder for you to stand him and keep up with the bargain when he asked of you cringy domestic services that made you want to punch him square in the jaw. 
But alas! 
How powerful is a damsel against her knight in shining armor? 
You continue when you have made sure that he won't try and reach for your breasts now. "... While all my stupid friends got to have dukes and nobles and aristocrats, I get a crusty dusty baldy from who knows where!" You hate how your boobs hang from the neck of your dress. 
Your depraved husband had them make a whole new wardrobe for you after your wedding. 
And the fittings and cuts on your home gowns made you want to kick him. 
He further irritates you when he lazily splashes some water on you in a playful fashion. You click your tongue at him and widen your eyes in warning even though he can't see you as you pinch his arm. "Stop it, baldy! Do you even know how long it takes to wash and style hair? Exactly!" You glanced at his buzzed head. "Stop splashing your stupid grimy water on–" you gasp, fully offended now as he remains unbothered with his eyes still comfortably shut. Water drips down your nose due to the hefty handful of the soapy water that he has just hurled right onto your face. 
"You–!" You toss the sponge into the tub angrily as you reach for his face with your claws. "You are DONE! I will end you today– AHH!" You screech when he manhandles you quicker than you can process it. The only thing you see is him opening his intelligent blue eyes before he gathers your offending hands in one of his much bigger, rougher ones and the arm that you had been cleaning wraps around your waist before you are pulled into the water. 
… You are in utter disbelief.
Your mouth falls open in shock as your eyes clench shut to suppress your rage. "How's this?" Your jaw ticks at his cocky tone. Warm water helps itself into your heavy gown and you're getting drenched by the second. You don't even struggle to try and get out because you are all too familiar with the unrelenting quality of the vice grip that he has placed on you. 
You stay quiet for a bit and just let yourself simmer in your rage while you try to think of all the reasons why you shouldn't lose your shit. 
But your husband is insufferable.
"Figured you could use some cleaning up too after a long, hard day of sulking around in luxury and jewels inside the castle" that seems to set you off in an autopilot and you begin to vehemently try and shake him off. But it's impossible to do so in the hold he has you in and that makes you even more passionate towards your resolve.
The bathwater goes splashing all around as you grunt and groan, wheezing a few seconds in by the struggle you have to put forth. Your eyebrows crease together indignantly and you kick your legs hard, pathetically weaseling against his chest with your hands locked above your head.
Curtis is no more than amused while you fume. He wordlessly holds you down with adoration in his pale blue eyes as a soft smile tugging at his bearded lips. He remains quiet and soundless until you open your mouth and then he's laughing at you. 
"Unhand me, fiend!" What? You read that in your literature lessons recently and thought it sounded cool. 
"Oh," your husband begins to shift forwards to press you against the edge of the opposite end of the tub, "but the big bad fiend fancies himself some little princess now" that's another thing you hate. 
He always tells you you're too small for big girl things and that's why you need to be taken care of. That that was also one of the reasons behind your father getting you, his only child, married to a man like him. 
That you needed a firm hand in your life that only he could provide.  
Absolutely absurd, right?! 
"I AM NOT LITT–" you suddenly freeze amid your struggle because your eyes have subconsciously flickered down to his pink chapped lips while his breath fans your mouth. You can't decide whether it's the way Curtis' chest firmly presses against yours or the way he has your arms suspended above your head in such a… big way that you inch your head upwards and mindlessly meet his lips, way too carried away by the memories of how good they feel to be rational.
As always.
The hungry way in which he kisses you back takes your breath away and both of you begin to claw and grope at each other everywhere you can like you are lovers who have met after being parted for years. The brawling couple is nowhere to be found, for a different kind of tussle has been initiated. 
Your access to him is less complicated and more pleasant because he's completely bare. But the way Curtis growls when he's kissing the length of your neck and the lovebites that he likes to leave on your tender skin indicates that he does not appreciate the barrier of your skirts between himself and you. 
"Up" he separates his lips from your jaw that he now nibbles at just enough to husk out his order. You quickly obey as you feel your arousal fill your already drenched undergarments, deciding that fighting could come later. You had the rest of your lives to do that, after all. Not that you liked to admit it when you weren't about to mount his cock. 
Curtis sits back and pulls you on his toned thighs to have no hassle access to you. You whine and grind yourself against his erection as he peels all your clothes off hurriedly, occasionally grunting under his breath when you get too rough because of your need. 
"Come here" he keeps your jewelry on but pulls and tears away everything else. Picking up your extravagant tiara from the stool, he places it on your head and you can't help but clench before rocking your hips harder against his. 
It's a silent assertion. 
An act of dominance. 
A paradox. 
You could wear the crown and have all the power in the Kingdom over every single person but your husband. 
Curtis was your regulator; your owner. 
The real master. 
You were the silly little puppet that he controlled with his cock.  
And while it never fails to offend you later, it always makes you even wetter when your bare body is pressed up against his. 
You whimper to yourself as realization dawns upon you; was this why he had the tiara placed here in his reach when you started? Did he know this was coming? Was this supposed to happen? Had your husband tricked you into becoming the wanton little thing that he always made out of you? 
You whine with a timid shake of your head as you place your hands on his broad shoulders to signal him to not move when he goes to place you under him. "W- Wanna ride…" You mumble like a baby and the tenderness of your tone has him roughly inhaling before he grabs your ass and squeezes it harshly, forcing your straddle to widen against him.
"Sure you can take it on your own, honey?" Even in your submissive state, you roll your eyes before puffing your flushed cheeks and that's how Curtis knows you are the one for him. 
"I think I know how to ride my husband's dick, thank you very much" he snorts.
"Oh, so now I am your husband, huh?" You groan and clamp one of your hands around his teasing grin as you reach into the water to position his tip against yourself. 
"I swear, you're so fuck– ow, Curty!" Your eyebrows rush to meet as you let out a high pitched throaty whine.
"Language" he warns dangerously as he glares up at where you're suddenly hugging his shoulders sensitively so his face is between your boobs. 
The combination of the apex of his dick twitching against you along with a punishing smack resounding against your wet ass had been too much for you to handle. 
You were just a fragile little baby, after all. 
"S- Sorry…" Your knees shake as you remain propped up on the top of his cock, too stuck around his monstrous girth to sink down and too needy to let go. "P- Please help, Curty" he has to raise one of his thick, dark eyebrows at that. 
"But I thought you were a big girl who knew how to ride her man's cock" shame nibbled at your blushing cheeks. 
"N- No… n- not big, Curty. P- Please… n- need you so bad" you uncomfortably shifted on the top of his cock. "P- Please help…" He hummed as he let one of his hands roughly fondle your ass cheeks, his beard feeling the soft cushions of your boobs. 
"Are you saying that you admit that you are my dumb little girl who can't do anything on her own and needs me for everything?" You nod so he moves you down but stops halfway to torture you just that bit more. "Say it" the slap he lands on your butt causes your cheeks to jiggle feverishly and you arch your back at the pain with a loud whine. 
"I- I…" You clench needily around him and feel yourself getting wetter at how great that one thick vein of his cock feels around your walls. "I admit t- that I am a stupid little girl and I can't do a- anything on my own–" you have to pause to recollect your breaking voice, the tension in your band of muscles that his rock hard cock stretches forming knots in the base of your stomach. "A- And that I need m- my hubby for everything" Curtis hums and he finally rests his back against the tub again as his hands aid your movements up and down his cock to get you to adjust to him. 
"Now thank me" you clench and feel your toes curl when he begins to pay attention to your erect boobs and his beard scratches the skin, chapped lips grazing your nubs in a way you can only describe as pleasurable. 
"Thank you!" It is breathless and erotic in tone as your hands curl around his shoulders. "Thank you for h- helping me, hubby" your hips start to work on their own now, the water that is beginning to turn cold splashing down on the floor as you slide yourself up and down his hard cock. 
"Wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, huh baby?" Curtis' teeth are sharp around one particular nipple that he had neglected the last time he was on you -which was a night before the last- and now he began his addictive mix of sucking and biting at the bud so you would be reminded of him every time anything brushed against it. 
"N- No, hubby…" The fact that your nails are digging into his hard pale skin -that doesn't get tanned no matter what, much to your confusion- but it doesn't seem to bother him as he rams up into you each time you land on his balls makes you reach for your pussy only for your hand to be smacked away. 
Uh oh.
It's a rule; your body belongs to Curtis and only he gets to touch it.
"And why is that?" Your vision gets dizzy as his tip begins to collide with your spongy bundle of sensitive nerves now, his girth having finally parted your walls enough. 
You feel yourself in a daze as you gasp down at him, one of your hands mindlessly stroking his sharp features. Curtis' body is the most stunning contrast of light and dark. His skin is white as snow -almost as though he has been carved out of frost itself- and his thick hair is nearly black. He hasn't yet disclosed to you his origins or the backstories of the many scars that litter his body. But the menace with which he wields a weapon -though he prefers not to be a soldier around you, unappreciative of you ever showing up on the field or anywhere near it- and the way your father trusts him with all of your lives sends the faintest chill of realization down your spine. 
Your husband is not as simple as the Kingdom Protector that he makes himself out to be. 
Because the ruthless way in which he shot down the person who tried to abduct you when you tried to flee your wedding makes you wonder if you even want to find out just what you open your legs to everytime you can. 
Or he wants. 
"Hm?" Curtis pulls you out of your fear inducing reverie. "Answer the question and I'll give it to you, baby" you feel your tiara slip to one side and go crooked on your wet hair when he gives you a particularly hard thrust. 
"Ugghhhheeee!" You gurgle as you throw your head back because of how he bites your nipple at the same time. You rake your mind to remember where you were, clenching hard around him when it does come back. "B- Because I am too d- dumb and my l- little pussy is too small to handle you all by myself, hubby" the profane words that would usually sting you tongue and appall you only further add to the pressure building between your hips.
You're so close.
Curtis growls and the way he begins to fuck up your pussy indicates that it's taking all of him not to change position and plunder you into the ground. 
But he never refuses the wishes of his Princess. 
His fingers finally creep to where you need him most. "That's fuckin' right" a loud moan escapes you when his thumb begins to swipe up and down your clit. "So remember that the next time you wanna argue with your man who works hard in the hot dirty field all day long so you can be a pretty little Princess in a protected Kingdom" your whole body is on fire despite the water that surrounds you. You're wet, dirty, desperate and on the very edge, the stimulation on your clit pulling at the knots in your stomach harder and harder. You're incoherent with your pleas and praises but Curtis isn't quite finished with you just yet. A firm tap thumps against the side of your head condescending as he readjusts your tiara. "Tell me you'll remember it" before he wraps his muscular arm around your waist to pull you closer again.
"I'll remember it, hubby!" You throw your head back as pleasure erupts up your womb and everywhere in your body. Your knees give out but you keep slamming yourself up and down his dick animalistically like a cock drunk nymph, placing your hands on the edges of the tub and using the grip to help move yourself. "Thank you so much!" Your ears are numb and hot, vision full of stars and neon shapes as you feel your breasts jiggle in a humiliating manner but you are too far gone to care.  
Your heart is still erratic and your hips haven't completely stopped moving when he decides to take back all the reigns of control. 
Being the simpleton that you are, you fail to realize that your husband didn't come. But that's okay. Curtis understands; little Princesses like you don't know anything but selfishness. 
It's a good thing he's a taker. 
"My turn" he breathily whispers in your ear when you have somewhat calmed down and now tiredly rest against his chest while lazily moving yourself on his cock. 
"... H- Huh?" 
A loud groan of protest escapes you when he suddenly rotates you on his cock like it's your axis, shifting onto his knees and moving you towards the opposite end of the tub. You open your eyes to see him placing your hands around the edge of the tub to hold on to, the realization of what he is about to do you causing your eyes to nearly fall out of their sockets as you sputter, too confused and fucked out to say anything substantial. 
Not that your husband would listen anyways. 
That is another rule; you are never to deprive him of anything, yourself being the top of the list of said things. 
Curtis adjusts your tiara again as he moves back to wrap his hands around your thighs to both handle you better and keep your legs that are trying to clamp together wide open for him. 
"Oh!" Your pussy clenches in defense when he begins to thrust into you.
And he isn't gentle about it either. 
"Tsk, comparing me, a husband who serves his wife with his blood and sweat to those sissy elites who have never seen a day of hard work in their lives and only know their fancy words" one of his hands pull back to come rapping down on your ass, causing you to jump with a loud whine, the action causing him to groan as well as it sends vibrations up his cock. "Well you know what, my dear?" He pulls you back by your hair to whisper in your ear. "If it comes to it, do you think those dukes and nobles and aristocrats of yours will be able to protect the honor of their ward like I did?" Fuck, another orgasm is about to force itself out of you due to the sensitive condition of your pussy. "Huh?!" Another slap has you yelling out a response as you get rammed like nothing more than a common whore.
"N- No, hubby! I am sorry, hubby!"
"You better fuckin' be" Curtis sounds fatally dangerous as he holds you to him by a new grip he has placed on the curve of your pussy from behind. "No real man ever wants the name of another on his wife's tongue" his balls clap against your ass in the most erotic way you've ever known. "Don't take my affections for granted" he begins to toy with your folds just to torture you that much more. "You're too spoiled and stupid to handle me when I get pissed, honey." 
He is breathless as he empties his load into you, cursing when the hot burst of thick liquid causes you to fall over again and you clench around him due to the sensitivity. "Look at this, baby" one of his rough hands clamp around your throat as he bends over you to fuck you harder, holding one of your thighs over his arm to allow himself deeper access. "You can't even breathe without my permission… how fucking cute" your lungs burn for air and your brain melts.
"Yes, hubby…" Is the only thing you can hear yourself muttering through the numbness as your body rocks back and forth. You can swear you knock out a couple times as your husband thoroughly fucks his orgasm out and into you. 
Then he pulls you in his arms and against his chest when he is done. 
"My hair…" His cock is hot inside your cavern as you cuddle into his chest, having been turned around again as the two of you snuggle now. 
Curtis has always told you that it's very pretty, just like all your other features. "What about it?" Your husband's own breathing is heavy as he reaches to push it out of your face. Your tiara is long gone and forgotten after it went missing during the fuck. 
"The soapy water ruined it…" You softly pout up at him. 
"I mean…" The warm and blissed out expression in his eyes is evidence that he doesn't agree nor care. Your beauty is something he always compliments with no hesitation and complete honesty. You are the prettiest sight my eyes have ever had the pleasure of beholding. It makes you roll your eyes everytime. "We can be the baldies, the two of us, hm?" You huff and glance at the ceiling tiredly. "The… baldy couple…?" He imitates the way you say it in your exact accent and you can't help but push weakly at his chest to express your dislike. "I mean," Curtis is grinning now. Uh oh, that can't be good, it never is. "Bet the tiara would look even cuter on your shiny cueball head–"
"YOU'RE SO OBSCENE, UGH!" He doesn't mind the childish fist that you land on his shoulder only to whine because his skin is too hard for your pampered little hand. 
Curtis snorts as he reaches for your hurting hand and kisses the top of it before slowly standing up with you safely tucked in his huge arms. "Only for you, honey" before he carefully removes you from his cock and hauls you over his shoulder, smacking your ass to make you squeak as he walks to the shower to get the now grimy bathwater off of the two of you. 
Your head maid shakes her head from outside your chambers as she motions for the rest of your helpers to excuse you for the day. It wouldn't be until morning that anyone would be able to get you two off of each other. 
"The Princess pretends like she doesn't know the Chief but he is the only one who has ever made her so… soft" one of the girls that basically grew up with you and was one of your good friends giggled shyly. 
"That's because she's a fiddle for the Chief, whether she wants to admit it or not" the other one rolls her eyes as they walk away from the group. 
"Perhaps that's what a comfortable marriage is" your friend muses aloud as the two girls turn the corner towards their quarters. "Being hopeless fiddles for each other in our own ways."
It was true, for it was not one sided by any means.
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ash5monster01 · 1 year
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More Than You Know
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader(Plus-size!)
Warnings: fat shaming, body image issues, swearing, angst, lots of yelling, fluff
Summary: You had liked Steve since the day you met but you never entertained the idea of being with him because you figured a popular guy like him would never date a girl your size. Coming to terms with this didn’t mean you’d stop defending him in a world full of ungrateful girls. So you reach your breaking point when you’re sick and tired of watching girls miss out on something that would be so good for them. Thing was, Steve heard everything you had to say.
word count: 2047
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“Looking good today Lola” you could practically see the smirk on Steve’s face from the sound of his voice. Looking up you saw his eyes trained on the blonde beside you, who had yet to put returns you had finished rewinding back on the shelf, her nail file much to important.
Lola Grant was everything you were not. Blonde, primp, perfect. Steve loved her for all of those things including her tiny waist. You on the other hand hated her for all of those things. She wore dresses with flower patterns and you still wore the same tattered converse, ripped and worn in all the best ways. Your jeans and Motley Crue T-shirt didn’t compare. You were not the same.
“Thanks Stevie” you hated the nickname, especially how it brought a smile the shaggy haired boys face.
“I was wondering if you were free Friday night, I’m having a movie night with the kids and was wondering if you wanted to join?” you had lost count of all the attempts Steve had made to ask the girl out. There had to of been a billion by now.
“Sorry Steve but that sounds pathetic spending Friday night with underage kids” she sneered, meanness dripping from her tone. Steves smile faltered only slightly and despite how much you hated him for still trying he was still your friend.
“Then what’s your ideal date Lola?” your tone was sharp, accusatory, and just plain angry that she couldn’t see how great a guy he was. Not that she deserved him anyway.
“A fancy dinner, wine, making out in a movie theater, third base in the back of a BMW. Nothing to do with babysitting” she responded promptly. Steve hummed with satisfaction, a dopey grin on his face. The sentence immediately making him forget how rude she was in the first place. His mind now only in the backseat of a BMW.
“Classy” you quipped, and she offered a forced smile but knew you were judging her. Yet a girl like you didn’t really get under her skin. How could you when you guys weren’t even in the same league of girls.
“We could do something else, maybe a movie?” you didn’t hide the roll of your eyes as Steve tried again.
“Maybe another time Stevie, I’m busy this weekend” a lie and you knew it, and maybe he did too. Finally picking up the stack of tapes you rewinded she moved off to place them on shelves.
“Get real Steve” you snipped, the moment she was out of ear shot.
“What’s your deal?” he asked and you shook your head, amused he couldn’t see how shitty she was.
“My deal is that girl sucks, you’ve got so much more going for you” you said pushing a new tape into the machine and hitting rewind. Steve moved behind the counter, taking Lola’s previous spot.
“She doesn’t suck, she’s cool and hot. Hard to get but I don’t give up” he smirked as he crossed his arms and you groaned, annoyed that he was so blinded by her fake appearance. She was nothing more than a girl who peaked in high school and Steve was so much more.
“She’s not cool nor is she hot. Don’t you ever think? If she actually had anything going for her she wouldn’t still be stuck here working in a video store” your anger caused the words to rattle out and Steves face dropped.
“Wonder what you think of me then?” you instantly realized your mistake and began shaking your head. You wished Robin wasn’t at school and was here to defend you.
“That’s not what I meant Steve-” but he was already shaking his head in offense and pushing himself off the counter.
“It’s exactly what you meant Y/N” he spoke harshly, hurt by his friend and the words you had spoke as he walked into the back room. Sighing you dropped your head on the counter, upset you pissed him off.
“What’s wrong? Did he deny you?” Lola chuckled as she returned to the counter now free of VHS tapes. Lola viewed life as a social ladder. She was on the top, Steve right below her, which is why she never dated him, and you were all the way on the bottom. She was out of Steve’s reach but you were miles away.
“No Lola, thanks for having faith in me” sarcasm laced your tone as you lifted your head.
“How could I have faith in you, you’ve never had a date in your life” she chuckled, annoyed you gave her so much crap when she saw you as absolutely nothing. She didn’t even think Steve should be talking to you.
“Shut up Lola” you spoke, not wanting anymore shit, already angry enough.
“You want to know why you haven’t had a date Y/N?” Lola expression turned menacing as she moved towards you, mean girl genes firing through her bones. “Because you’re fat, and weird, and no guy is attracted to that”
“You know what?” normally Lola would get to you, break your heart and allow tears to pool in your eyes. But today was your breaking point. She could treat you as badly as she wanted but you were done with her treating Steve like that.
“What?” her amused expression didn’t falter as she waited for some lame comeback bound to fall from your mouth.
“You’re a bitch Lola. Nothing more than a washed up high school mean girl. You’re gonna spend the rest of your life in this God forsaken town, running though men like their a God damn marathon, until you end up stuck with some creepy old man who knocked you up, and you’ll never be anything more than that girl from high school absolutely everyone hated” Lola was shocked as you continued to raise your voice at her, alerting Steve from the back room.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about” Lola began to shake her head but you were beyond angry now, laughing as you approached her. Steve moved to the door, listening to everything you both said.
“Yes I do, because everyday you treat Steve like shit when he thinks you’re the best thing on earth. Do you know how crazy that is? Steve is the greatest guy I know. He cares for so many people when he doesn’t even have to, including me, he even drives Robin to school everyday even if he doesn’t have to be up for work, because he’s such a great guy. He’s the kind of guy who would treat you right and every day for no fucking reason you tell him no” Lola opened her mouth to speak but you quickly held up a hand, not done with your spiel.
“Not to say you deserve a guy like that because you don’t, and twenty years from now, while your holding your child on the porch of your trailer home, you’re gonna be wishing you said yes to him. Every day I hope he’s gonna walk through those doors and ask me out instead because I know what he’s worth. He may be way out of both our leagues but at least I appreciate him. The only reason he still asks you is because you are the skinny, pretty girl, and that fucking stings. Yet I guess that’s how this cruel world works. So leave us both the fuck alone from now on” heavy breaths left your mouth as you finished, Steve having heard the whole thing, shocked to hear such passion come from you.
“Okay, I’m sorry” Lola muttered, before rushing from behind the counter. “I’m gonna take off, my shift is up anyway”
“Bye” you snipped, and she wore a guilty expression as she quickly collected her things and fled the building. You dropped your head back on the counter, now worked up from the drama. Steve finally walked out the back room, knowing Lola was gone.
“You think I ask her out because she’s prettier than you?” your shoulders tensed at his voice, not realizing he heard the whole thing. “Because you’re way prettier than her”
“Don’t lie to me right now Steve, guys don’t date big girls like me” you looked up as you shook your head at him. Steve didn’t care the enthuse the idea.
“I never asked you out because I thought you were too good for me” you furrowed your eyebrows as he continued to talk anyway. Steve had always thought you were pretty and on top of that you were also the best person he knew.
“I’m nothing special and you’re kinda the coolest person I know. I ask Lola out because she’s the kinda girl I’m gonna end up with, not because of her looks compared to yours. I’m just not good enough for you” you scoffed, not believing a word because you truly had never heard kind words like this before. It was also hard to believe he could feel like same way you had all this time, used to people avoiding you because of your size.
“I’m not looking for the you’re not fat, you’re beautiful speech. You weren’t supposed to hear what I said. So can we just drop it” you said turning away from him, uninterested in this lame attempt at making you feel better. You had accepted your fate a long time ago.
“You are beautiful Y/N. Fuck, why can’t you see that? I never asked you out because you were the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen and I didn’t want to ruin that” tears pooled in your eyes because if you let yourself believe him and it wasn’t true you weren’t sure you’d ever recover.
“You’re a great guy Steve, you wouldn’t ruin anything. I would” Steve’s heart warmed because he heard how you had defended him like that. Not even he thought he was so great and apparently you noticed him more than he thought you did.
“Thank you for defending me, and it made me realize that I do deserve someone who would defend me like that. So go out with me Y/N, and not just because of this whole thing, because I’ve wanted to date you since the day we met” you shook your head, the tears now falling down your face.
“Steve if you hurt me, I just can’t. I wouldn’t be able to handle it” Steve felt his heart break as he looked at you. Really looked at you and he felt terrible he had never made you realize how amazing you were in the first place. He was selfish staying away because you deserved to be shown you were just as beautiful as any girl Steve had dated.
“Let me prove you wrong” he said gripping your arms and you looked up at him, tear filled eyes, and he felt the wind get knocked out of him from the look in your eyes. The fact he never realized you loved him back before was shocking because he could see it written all over your face.
“Okay” you muttered and before you could even react he tugged your lips against his. Arms gripping you for dear life and your eyes were wide as you realized what he had done. He had kissed you and you had never even expected it. Then you realized how soft his lips were, how he tasted like cherries, and his warm mouth soothed every ache in your heart. Your hands gripped his shirt as you settled into the kiss, relaxation taking over you, eyes fluttering shut as he moved to wrap his arms around you. If you had known yelling at Lola would make Steve Harrington kiss you like this you would’ve done it a lot sooner. You weren’t even fully sure you were supporting yourself anymore, knees weak from the fire he has ignited in your stomach.
“Holy shit” Steve panted as he pulled away, a dopey smile on his face, because he had never felt like that from kissing a girl before.
“I know” you panted right along side him and he let out a giddy chuckle, moving to pull you back into his arms.
“I may not deserve you but after that I’m not going down without a fight”
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