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#captain marvel x fem reader
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Need someone older | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> DBF!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Your dad’s best friend, Steve Rogers, has a kind that makes your body reacts in a needy way whenever he is around you. So when your dad is taking a shower he shows you that he can help your arching feeling better as the boys you know from university.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2.019
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, praises, dirty talk, age gap
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
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“Hey, babygirl,” a rough, familiar voice says behind you, and the man behind you smirks when you hum in response.
You turn around to face the blond, tall man behind you. Your dad’s best friend - Steve Rogers. He is as tall as your dad, muscular, and has short blond hair. His beard is trimmed, and for a moment, you get lost in your thoughts. You love that look, especially because it defines his ocean blue eyes and gives you a lot of thoughts that aren’t as innocent as you look like. You always have a thing for older men, and for Steve even more; his stubble would probably feel so good between your legs while his long, thick fingers slide in and out of you. You try not to moan when you just think about the filthy things he could do to you. You’re pretty small compared to him, and it makes your knees weak. Your pussy starts dripping whenever you’re close to him. And the way your lips are parting so slightly that no one sees it, your eyes so filled with lust, but you just smile and nod softly. Steve chuckles, like he always does when he sees the reaction he has on you, the way you act when he is around you, pressing your legs together, digging your nails in the hem of your shirt, or the surface of the kitchen counter. He sees the way your eyes roam over his muscular body - little do you know he wears shirts that fit like a second skin. Steve enjoys the way your lips are parted, knowing that you think no one sees the way you stare at him, almost drooling over the older man.
“Like what you see?” He tears, walking a step closer, so you have to look up to look into his face and his beautiful blue eyes. “Answer me. Tell me, do you like what you see? Don’t be shy.”
Your eyes widen slightly, and you whimper. His smile grows when he has the reaction he wants to have. You make him go crazy, and he doesn’t need to do much more than stand there. Steve loves to see how small you look, the way you don’t manage to get a word out when he looks into your eyes, the way you clench your thighs and whimper - for relief, wanting him to help you get rid of the aching feeling between your legs. His hand glides to your waist, and he pulls you closer. Your chin almost touches his broad chest, which causes a gasp to leave your lips. His fingers digging into the soft skin of yours, a shiver running along your spine, and you grip the kitchen counter behind you tighter, trying to ground yourself.
“Rogers. Do you annoy her again?” Your dad shouts from behind, and Steve grins.
“Do I, princess?” He asks loudly enough for Bucky to hear him.
You shake your head, but Steve lets go of you to smile softly and walk to Bucky. He smirks at him before they walk out of the kitchen and into the garden. Your breath hitches, your hands are shaking, and your knees are weak. Your nails are digging into the surface of the counter behind you, helping you not to fall down. This man can do things you didn’t know he could do; your panties are soaked with your arousal, and he hasn’t even touched you in a way that could explain your throbbing pussy.
“Dinner is ready in half an hour,” Bucky tells you, and when you reply with a short one, he continues his conversation with Steve.
You made your way to the living room, letting yourself slip on the couch while you watched television. Bucky and Steve are still in the garden, taking about everything and nothing. Your legs are pressed together, and while your head rests against the backrest, your mind is going wild with thoughts about what your dad’s best friend could do with you - with his tongue, with his fingers, or with his dick. You have never thought about it, but you’re sure he is huge. And Steve is experienced in bed, so he will probably do a good job when he fucks a woman, making her scream his name while she comes over his dick over and over again. Just the thought makes you wetter as you already are, and you press your thighs further together, trying to get some friction at your arching pussy. How would it feel when Steve just had a taste of you? When his stubble brushes so softly against your thigh and your pussy or when his thick fingers disappear between your wet, tight walls. He would be more talented than the guys your age, but he is your dad’s best friend and almost double your age. You’re probably not even his type of woman. Maybe you should just date some guys your age, but they are not like Steve - not so nice and handsome.
“Buck is taking a shower, then we can eat,” Steve suddenly says and stands next to you.
“O-Oke,” you mumble, and for a moment you get lost in his beautiful blue eyes.
“You haven’t answered my question earlier. So did you like what you saw?”
You smile softly; it’s more than just that you like to see him standing in front of you; you imagine filthy things he could do to you.
“Yes, I-I like what I see when you’re standing in front of me.”
Your cheeks heat up, and you turn your head away. Steve chuckles, adoring the way you try to hide the red on your cheeks, trying to hide that you’re throbbing wet because of him. He lets himself fall down next to you on the couch, his arm resting on the backrest behind you. You feel warmth rushing through the part between your legs, causing you to press your thighs together.
“I like what I see when I’m standing in front of you too, babydoll.”
The gasp that leaves your lips makes the older man chuckle. His grin playfully, and his eyes were glistening with lust. Steve’s hand slides up and down his thigh, inching closer to his dick, and you follow his hand with your eyes before you let your gaze roam over his body, looking at his hand, which is now covering the growing bulge in his pants. Your breath hitches when you see his dick pressing his pants up. You’re adorable when you look at him like that. You can’t keep your eyes off of his bulge while he slides his hand slowly over it.
“I- Are you-?”
“Hard because of you? Yes, wanna give me a helping hand?” He asks, smirking.
“D- You- Stevie-“ you stutter, your eyes widening while you look at him.
Your eyes meet, and you almost don’t recognize him leaning closer. Only when his hands find your hips and his fingers trail slowly under the fabric of your shirt. His touch feels like electricity, and you gasp once again. Steve lifts you up like you weigh nothing and places you on his lap, his bulge pressing against your core. You moan softly when you move a bit, feeling the friction between your legs and his bulge growing underneath you.
“B-But dad can hear us,” you say quietly, placing your hands on his shoulders to push you up.
Steve holds you firmly on his lap, pushing you back down on his covered dick when you try to push yourself off of him. He moves your hips slowly over his bulge. You whimper and close your eyes for a moment while he groans. The older man pushes his hips upward, pushing his dick more against you. The movements make you moan and whimper softly. You then let your head fall forward and against his shoulder. Steve smirks. He loves the way you let him touch you like that, the way your body reacts to his touches, and he loves to see you all desperate for his dick, grinding against his bulge.
“He won’t unless you’re loud. But he wanted to take a shower so he wouldn’t hear or see us,” Steve says, looking into your eyes when you push yourself up.
Your lips are just inches away from one another, and his tongue glides over his bottom lip, his glistening saliva coating the soft, plump lips, and your eyes switch from his eyes to his lips back to his eyes. Then he leans closer and captures your lips with his. He moves your hips harshly over his hard dick. You moan into the kiss and slide your hands into his hair, tugging at them. You would like to feel him inside of you; he feels huge, and it makes your cunt drip more, causing arousal to soak your panties.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me. So hungry and desperate for my dick. You want a man, don’t you? Someone who takes care of you and knows how to treat you right, to make you feel good,” he mumbles against your lips, and you moan in response.
Steve smirks and kisses your jawline and along your neck. His fingers are digging into your skin, while you feel the feeling of pleasure growing in your stomach. Your whimpering turns more and more into moaning. You tug harsher at his hair, and Steve knows that your orgasm is just as close as he is.
“Feeling good, princess? Feeling like a princess on daddy’s cock, huh? Wanna feel it inside of you?” He asks, and you can’t help but throw your head back, grinding harder against him.
He knows exactly what to say and what to do to make a woman go crazy, to make her even more desperate, and to make her feel good. Steve stops your movements, and you immediately look at him, confused about why he stopped you.
“Please- so, so close,” you whimper, pouting softly.
“Answer my question. Do you feel like a princess on daddy’s cock?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Wanna feel daddy’s huge dick inside of your little pussy? Is she already begging for attention?”
“Y-Yes, begging for daddy’s attention,” you mumble, trying to grind against him.
He laughs softly before he lets you grind over his bulge. You’re a moaning mess on top of him, bringing both of you closer to the edge. He enjoys the view of you humping him like a desperate slut, and that’s what you are right now. You would agree with him; should he ask you, you would tell him you’re his little desperate slut.
“Please, c-can I come?” you ask, pressing your lips against Steve’s.
“Come for me; soak your panties, pretty girl. Make daddy come in his pants,” he groans, pressing you further down on his covered dick.
You move a few more times over his bulge before the two of you come into your pants, breathing heavily, and Steve kisses you once more to make you shut up while he helps you to move, riding out your orgasm.
“You’re so good for me; daddy’s proud of you, princess.”
Just in time, you two catch your breath, and you’re sitting next to him, talking about the university, when your dad appears with a towel around his waist. His hair is wet, and the water is still flowing down his body.
“Take on some clothes; your daughter doesn’t need to see you naked, Buck," Steve laughs and earns a groan from Bucky.
You’re still calming down from your orgasm; imagine Steve walking with just a towel, wet hair, and his body glistening through the apartment.
“How about I take care of you when Bucky is on his work drip?” Steve asks quietly, and you smile softly before you nod, leaning in for a short kiss before he gets up and walks outside to finally eat.
You follow him. Steve would prefer something else instead of the barbecue he and your dad just made, but he still enjoys it. Especially when he sees your still-red cheeks with the knowledge that your pants are soaked with your cum.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨
𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.
┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months
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I still got a few rounds left in me
kinktober, day thirteen
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a/n: ...i have such a thing for fighters, it's bad....
warnings: boxer!steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, domestic bliss, kissing, foreplay, bathtub sex
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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You felt like a little marshmallow floating atop a warm mug of hot chocolate as you laid there in the tub, staring out at the dark skyline. The melody of soft rain drizzling against the window lulled you even further as your hand lazily played with the bubbles foaming at the surface. 
“Hey,” you suddenly heard, spinning your head around to spot your burly boyfriend gazing at your relaxed visage from the doorway, raindrop-painted gym clothes still hugging his form. 
“Steve,” you gasped, spine straightening, “you’re home! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you would be asleep already, so I tried to be quiet.”
“In a bit, I just wanted to wash the day away first, you know?” you sighed, “fall back down to earth before I try and fall asleep…” Offering you a gentle nod, he then stepped further into the bathroom, a soft smile still fast on his lips as he began to peel his clothes off. You couldn’t help but giggly ask, “what are you doing?” as the fighter slowly revealed more and more of his rippling physique, his eyes staying locked with yours the entire time. 
“Well, I was gonna take a shower,” his shorts hit the floor mere seconds before he planted his palms on either side of the tub, “but you’re making that bath look so good.” 
As he lowered himself in, your giggle morphed into a laugh as the bubbles began to make a run for it, “you’re gonna flood the entire bathroom!”
“Then it’s a good thing we have something called towels,” fully submerged, he simply leaned in to kiss you. 
Arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, the current scooped you a bit closer, your legs intuitively entangling up and over his thick thighs. As your hands drifted over his skin, your fingers paused and took time to dig into a few of the muscles on his upper back. Parting from the tender peck, you deepened your massage momentarily as you asked, “are you sore?”
With his own arms tangled around you, he murmured, “not really, I didn’t really go too hard today,” before he lifted you further up onto his lap, his broad palm firm on your back so that your chest pressed flush against his, making your soapy tits share their suds. 
It took you approximately two seconds before you noticed the raging hard-on, poking you under the water, “oh my god…” you chuckled, tilting your chin back as you gazed at his smirk, “what are you trying to do, huh, champ?”
His hands slowly raked down your back before they found the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that shot directly to your aching clit, “like I said, I didn’t go too hard today, so I still got a few rounds left in me…”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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"Slut!"
Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.
Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
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"She goes through guys like a train-"
You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.
"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.
You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."
"I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"
"A slut," you finish for him.
His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."
You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.
It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.
It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.
They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.
You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.
It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.
You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.
There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.
And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.
In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.
For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.
That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.
You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.
This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.
Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."
"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."
It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.
Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"
"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.
"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.
"For what?"
"You warned me this would happen."
It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.
You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.
Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.
It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.
But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.
You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.
No one knew how bad it would get.
"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."
"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."
You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"
He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."
"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.
The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.
It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.
At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.
You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.
But it didn't end there. Not even close.
The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.
From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.
You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.
"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."
Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"
"I've been better."
"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."
"What now, Tony?"
"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"
You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"
"They want me to take over for you."
You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."
"No, don't do that. It's for dad."
"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."
"They broke into my house, Tony."
"What? Are you okay?"
"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"
"Where was your security?" Tony demands.
"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."
"I'm so sorry."
"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."
You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."
"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."
And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.
You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.
It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."
"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."
And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"
Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
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viixenvi · 3 months
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐝 | 18+
Summary: You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.
Characters: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Warnings: A lot of smut, slight Dom!Bucky, praise kink, blowjob, handjob, teasing, edging
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈
A/N: This is my first time posting smut on here so pls forgive me if it's not the best.
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It was a slow night. You considered not coming in but your co-worker Tiffany begged you to come in so the two of you could get drinks at the end of shift.
"It's the slowest night ever," Tiffany whines, throwing her head back and holding up the twenty dollars she had just counted. Her bottom lip popped out slightly and she pouted.
"You wanted to work tonight," you shrug, pulling your hair out of the ponytail it was just in. It falls down your shoulders and the curls sit nicely on your back.
"I forgot Thursdays are always bad." She gets up and puts the money in her bag. She shuffles to the lockers and kicks the bottom of hers, causing it to open. That makes you laugh as you fix your lipstick that had smudged from my stage routine earlier.
You stop to look at yourself in the mirror. The red lace lingerie bra you are wearing holds up your boobs amazingly. The matching thong makes it all come together. All of it is covered by a red sheer mini-dress. You push the bra up and fix the straps.
"Y/n you got the second private room," one of the new girls informs you. You give her a smile and nod, letting her know you acknowledged what she said. Her heels click against the floor as she walks away. You feel Tiffany's hand on your shoulder as she leans into you to fix her heel.
"You are about to get so much money," she giggles, the alcohol on her breath was more prominent now. She wasn't supposed to drink on the clock but she didn't care at all.
Once she takes her hand off you, you walk out the door and down the hall to the main floor. The new girls are surrounding the younger men in suits. They don't understand that the old guys are where the real money is. You smile to yourself and walk to the bar.
"Who do I have tonight?" you ask the bartender, and she smugly smiles at you.
"Your favorite broody regular," she jokes. You groan. The Winter Soldier. He always just sits there and watches the girls, never interacting with them or throwing money. You rub your head and prepare yourself for the hour-long dullness that will definitely be happening.
"Cheer up, at least he paid for the room," she tries to help but it just makes you not want to go anymore. If it was a regular that you disliked but actually got money from then you'd be happier to do this. But he just sits there and drinks while looking like he hates everything and everyone. You collect yourself and turn towards the room.
The worst that can happen is you sitting next to him for the next hour doing nothing.
The music is blasting in the rooms, You know your favorite song is on next so at least you have something to look forward to. You giggle to yourself and swing open the door. Your eyes meet with his, they are cold and unwelcoming like always.
"Hi, Mr. Barnes, what would you like tonight?" You ask, not knowing his preference since this is his first time straying from his usual routine and getting a room.
"Call me sir," He says, his voice lacking emotion. To you, he's just cold. You don't know how he feels when you walk into the room. How he feels watching you dance.
How much his heart is racing right now while he looks at you in that red mini-dress.
"Yes sir," You oblige, his lip twitches for just a split second, but you notice it. He sips his beer and clenches his jaw. His eyes glide down your body, every inch of it being burned into his brain. He wanted his hands to roam your body instead. Touching every part of your body.
The song you love finally comes on, you smile and he notices your sudden mood change. "I love this song!" you say to him. He nods, taking in the new information.
"Dance for me Doll," he tells you, his voice slightly changed. His eyes were now fixated on your face looking from your eyes to your lips. You start dancing, dragging your hand across various parts of your body.
Bucky re-adjusts his seat on the big couch. His hands fell over his crotch and covered it slightly. He can't keep his eyes off of you. He's been watching you since he started coming here.
It started as nothing but he soon started to come in regularly for you, of course you didn't know this. He tried so hard to keep cool when he would see you. You consumed his thoughts all the time. He hated it.
He doesn't like that you can so easily exhaust his thoughts when he imagines all the ways he can ruin you. Your hair falls in front of your chest. The same hair he thinks about pulling while he fucks you.
Bucky soon realizes his cock is starting to get hard underneath his jeans. The bulge is now very noticeable to you. You stop to stare for a moment. You've never seen him have any reaction to any of the girls dancing.
"Fuck," Bucky mutters under his breath. You lock eyes with him, and you now notice the lust in his. He's trying so hard to hold back but the way your dress has hiked up and your ass is in full view makes his cock throb even more.
"Sir?" You say, he groans in response. His eyes are closed now, hand over his bulge. You get on your knees and lean on his legs, your hands on his thighs.
"Do you need help with that?" His eyes open and he looks at you. You look at him with an innocent face. He knows what you are doing and he wants it so bad.
His hand reaches out and his thumb rubs your cheek. You smile up at him and he licks his bottom lip before pulling it in with his top teeth and letting it go.
"Fuck, I just can't control myself around you Doll," He admits. You are slightly surprised. The Winter Soldier can't control himself around you?
"Sir?"
"Yes, doll?"
"Let me help you," You say as you reach for the zipper on his jeans. You unzip it, your eyes still locked with his. You pull his boxers open and feel his cock in your hand. Your eyes finally leave him and widen at the sight of it. It's huge. He laughs at your expression and pulls your hair up into his vibranium arm's hand.
You run your thumb along his shaft, stopping at the tip and rubbing it with the pad of your thumb. He groans and pulls your hair. You smirk and do it again.
He pulls your hair again and directs your mouth to his tip. "Suck." That's all you need to hear before you push your head all the way down. Your throat tightens around his cock. He moans and throws his head back, gripping your hair tighter.
"You are doing so good," he breathes out. Your hands grip onto his thighs as you gag on his dick. His legs are slightly shaking already.
"Going to cum already?" You tease him. He looks down at you, pulling your hair back and leaning his face inches away from yours.
"I've been watching you all night. If I had my way, I'd fuck you right here right now," He whispers to you. This makes you blush, you are already so wet and this makes it worse. Your stomach is doing flips.
"So why don't you?" he smiles and caresses your face with his other hand.
"Because you're too pretty to fuck here. I'd rather take you back to my place where we can have some real fun. I can show you how I have sex." His lips are just inches away from yours. You can feel his breath graze them.
You can't take it anymore, your lips crash into him and he pulls you closer. He bites your bottom lip, licking right over it after. You moan into the kiss causing him to move his vibranium hand to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up.
He breaks the kiss, pulling the dress over your head. "Take those panties off and touch yourself," he leans back, disregarding your dress somewhere on the floor.
"Yes sir," You get up and sit on the table in front of him, slowly pulling your panties off. Unlike the dress, it's thrown at him and he happily takes it.
Your hands glide down from your chest to your stomach and finally to your clit. He wraps his hand around his cock, watching you with an intense lust in his eyes.
You feel the excitement, you have never done this before. Yes, you masturbated in private, but in front of someone is way different. The familiar feeling of pleasure courses through you as your fingers rub your clit in a circular motion.
Bucky's hand is mimicking your actions from earlier. Moving up and down his shaft. He moans and closes his eyes but doesn't stay like that for long. He can't look away from you. You are a gorgeous sight.
Your moans only make him go faster, which in return makes you go faster. The music in the rooms muffles the sounds you both make, so no one knows what you two are doing.
"Shit, I'm so close," Bucky whispers. You whine when he pulls your hand away and kisses you. The pleasure you were having was something you were now craving. You wanted to touch yourself so badly.
"Be a good girl and don't touch yourself." You listen to Bucky. Even though you are beyond horny. He continues to touch himself, wrapping the panties around his cock.
You whine and grind against his leg for some friction. If you can't touch yourself then you can use him too. He chuckles at your actions. Smirking at how needy you now are.
"Fuck!" He moans out, finally releasing the cum he was holding in. You are too focused on your grinding to realize what just happened, so Bucky helps with that by pulling you off him and back onto the floor.
"Why did you do that?" You squirm. He pulls your hair back again and kisses you, this time more softly.
"Because you are not allowed to cum till I say so," His thumb caresses your cheek again, you lean into his touch but he pulls away. The panties he came on are in his hands. He looks at them then back at you.
"Wear them." He tosses them into your hands. You pull them on and look back at him, expecting more orders. He stands up and zips his jeans, this causes you to stand up too.
His hands reach down, grabbing a handful of your ass before smaking it hard. "God, I love the color red."
You lean in for a kiss, which he gives you. "Can I meet you after my shift?" You ask, a little desperate but it doesn't bother you now.
"I'll be waiting for you on my bike, wear a little more clothes," He teases before walking out of the room
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sweetsbfreex · 1 year
Text
drunk and obsessed
Summary: a little something about a drunk steve. in the mafia steve universe
Pairing: drunk!mafia! steve rogers x reader
Warning: none rlly
-
“Baby, baby,” you giggle, a bit tipsy, as you try your hardest to fit the key into the door's lock. “I can’t open the door with you all over me.”
You laugh once more when Steve begins kissing your neck once again. His trimmed beard tickles your neck. 
On the other hand, Steve had a bit too much to drink. And that's all your doing. 
You know he feels he can never have too much to drink at these events, especially with you there. The events are filled with some of the most inimical people worldwide. So he always wants to be on his A-game for you. But that’s what body guards are for, you had argued. Pushing for him to have the time of his life with some of his friends.
Now here he was: drunk and his body cradling yours, as the two of you struggle to get in the house. 
“I just love you, baby,” his words slur as he kisses your cheek. 
“I love you too,” You tell him, so close to getting the fucking key to fit. 
“I can’t wait to get you inside,” his voice rich and husky as he seals his promise. 
“Baby, I don’t even think you could get it up right now.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve removes himself as your shell, both arms up in defense while he takes a few steps back.  
When your senses finally catch up that he’s no longer hovering over you. You quickly turn, just stopping him before he tumbles down the step. 
You hold both his hands, then let one go to grab the side of this face, “Honey, your drunk off your ass right now—“
“I am not! You just called my game weak,”
“That’s not what I said, but I need you to stand silently so I can open the door, okay?”
“Okay, pretty” he answers, landing a soft peck on your lips.
You smile as you finally open the door, reaching behind you to clasp Steve’s hand so you can pull him in. 
You close the door behind him, toeing your shoes off, giggling when he has trouble with his. But five ‘fucks’ later, he finally gets it done. 
“Woooo!!” Steve shoots his hand up in a v, as if his team just won the super bowl. 
You’re quick to drop his arms back down to his sides, “Shhh, baby. You’re screaming.”
“I am?! I’m sorry,” his hands cup your cheeks as he pulls you for yet another kiss. 
“Honey,” you laugh into his sloppy kiss. “Let’s go to bed, hm? And get some water into you.”
“I don’t wanna do bed,” he whines. “I wanna do you,” he smirks, moving one hand to grip your hip.
“Tomorrow, okay? I’m really tired.” You feign a dramatic yawn. 
“You are? Okay, that’s okay, okay?” he kisses your nose this time. 
Drunk sex isn’t something that hasn’t been checked off your and Steve’s list. But Steve is sloshed and can barely walk straight, so sex would not be on the menu for tonight. 
“Let’s head up.” You wrap his arm over your shoulder, walking up the steps carefully. 
-
He’s sitting at the end of the bed, his coat beside him, as you unbutton his dress shirt. You would’ve let him do it himself, but he was struggling with his lack of hand-eye coordination. Playfully slapping your hand every time your hands got close to his shirt. Giggling and joking that there would be no sexy times. That was until he had made you oath you’d keep your hands innocent. 
Ever your affectionate, drunk lover. 
“Are you sure you feel alright? Don't need to throw up or anything?” You ask Steve once again. 
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells you then takes another swig of water.
It only takes ten minutes until he’s in his sweatpants, with no boxers (under his request). You’re changed and ready for bed, tired out from an eventful day. Steve’s favorite movie playing in the background. 
Steve cuddles up close, half his brawny body on yours, his leg splayed over yours, and his head nestled on your chest. 
Your fingers run through his hair soothingly. 
“Y/n?”
You hum a response.
“Thank you for taking care of me, I love you too,” 
“I love you too.” you laugh breathily at his mistake. 
A comfortable pause ensues. 
“Y/n?” His hand shimmies under your t-shirt, to caress your soft skin. 
“Yes, honey,” you can’t help but laugh at the way he calls for your attention. You don’t think you’ve heard your actual name from his mouth so consistently. 
“I think I wanna— I know I want to start trying soon. I wanna be a dad, a good dad.”
Your hand stills.
“What?” Your voice is quiet and relayed with shock. Your heart no longer in your chest. 
He wants to try. The two of you tied the knot two months ago. However, talk of whether you guys wanted to start a family or not was shut down by Steve every time. You never wanted to push, but you also wanted to know what to expect. 
Either way, He was adamant that he wasn’t ready. There was no way he could raise a baby to be half a decent human being with his trauma lingering in the shadows, among other things
He sits up abruptly, “I know, I know. I’m not sober, but I’m not lying either. I’m ready, honey… if you are.” He grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles.
“Okay,” you smile, “If you remember, we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow?”
“Okay.” He kisses your cheek before cuddling into you once again. “I wanna be the perfect dad, y/n. The best.”
“You will be.” 
You tell him sweetly, your eyes stinging as you run your fingers through his hair once more. 
-
a/n: srry it's been so long, college keeps me busy 24/7! here's this as i try and finish binky fairy pt. 2
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3
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imtryingbuck · 5 months
Text
Too Late.
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader
Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?
Word count: 2,237
Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.
A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.
Part 2
Masterlist
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Why he kept doing it was beyond him.
The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.
Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.
They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.
Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.
When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.
Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.
He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.
“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.
“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.
“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”
“Shit”
Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.
Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”
Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.
Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.
“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.
“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.
Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.
But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.
Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.
“S-Steve…”
“What are they?”
“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.
“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.
“It-its positive”
No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.
Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.
“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.
“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.
“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”
“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.
“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.
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Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.
“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”
“W-where am I?”
“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”
“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.
“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”
Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”
“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”
The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.
There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.
“T-t-turn it o-off”
“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”
Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.
“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”
The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.
“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”
The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.
“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”
“W-why are you doing this?”
“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“
“Why?”
Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.
“Ah show time”.
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“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.
“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.
“Where is she?” He repeated.
“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”
The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.
“Doll-“
“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.
“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.
Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”
“Know what?” Tony asks.
“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”
Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.
“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”
“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”
“Doll-“
“A year.” 
Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.
“A…year?”
“It was an accident Y/n/n-“
“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”
All shook their heads at her question.
“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”
Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”
“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”
“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.
The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.
Sadly her happiness had gone away.
Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.
Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.
To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.
“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”
“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“
“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.
“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“
“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“
“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”
Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.
Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.
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In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha. 
The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.
Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.
He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.
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On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.
Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.
She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.
“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”
Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.
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~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
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upat4amwiththemoon · 6 months
Text
The stars
Summary: I see my lover when I look at the stars.
Pairing: Carol Danvers x female!reader
Warnings: sexism, men, it’s the 80s, some angst
Word count: 3902
a/n: second chance romance trope, I’m so happy with this you guys!!
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69
masterlists | guidelines
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1985
Pancho’s bar wasn’t the fanciest place to work at as a young woman, especially because most of the customers are men from the air force. Their favorite past time besides drinking is trying to seduce Y/N, and get her number. But she isn’t interested in them, and never will be, though that’s something she’ll keep to herself. At least the constant flirting leads to good tips, which will eventually help her get out of the bar.
Y/N dries a glass with a rag now that she has some downtime. The rush time will start soon, so she wants to prepare for it to the best of her abilities. There are few regulars sitting either at a table or by the bar, but she knows they’ll let her know if they need anything, otherwise they like to quietly drink to their sorrows.
When the bell by the door rings, Y/N quickly glances at the new customers way, she only sees the air force logo on their clothes, making her roll her eyes. They’re out early today. She sets the cleans classes to their places and washes her hands, taking a deep breath, she gets ready for the onslaught of vulgar words.
“Hey, could we get two beers?”
Her head snaps up when she hears the feminine voice. Two women are standing in front of her with the air force clothes on and friendly smiles on their faces. Y/N stares at them with wide eyes for a moment. Sure every now and then women wonder into the bar, but she has never seen air force women come in.
Y/N regains her composure and grabs two beer glasses. “Sure thing! Which beers would you like?” Her customer service voice is cheery and slightly more high pitched than her normal one.
“Sierra Nevada, please.”
“Coming right up.” As Y/N moves to the taps to pour the beers, the two women start whispering and throwing looks between each other. Without Y/N noticing, the blonde woman’s gaze moves to places her eyes shouldn’t go. “Here you go.” She sets the beers in front of them.
“Thanks,” the woman glances at Y/N’s name tag, “Y/N. I’m Carol.” She hands some bills to pay for both of the drinks. “And this is Maria.” Carol states when she gets nudged to her side by the other woman.
“Nice to meet you.” Y/N says, her voice slower as she tries to figure out her intentions. Carol’s tone is similar to the multiple men who like flirt with her, though more genuine sounding, but surely that’s not what she is doing with her. “Here’s your change.”
“Keep it.” Carol winks before she and Maria go over to a table and sit down, leaving flustered Y/N at the bar.
She pockets the tip and start rearranging the dishes, trying to occupy her mind from wandering to incredibly good looking Carol.
When the clock strikes midnight, the bar is already at full swing. People are dancing to the loud music coming from the jukebox, and occasional bursts of laughter can be heard from the tables full of men, drunk men.
Y/N has been moved from behind the bar to the floor, bringing back empty classes and taking people’s drink orders. Because the other workers are men, they believe having a woman on the floor is better for business.
“Hey, sweetheart!” A drunken air force soldier shouts from a table full of them. He is waving his hand around in a come here motion. With a sigh, Y/N puts on her best smile and makes her way over to their table. “How much for a pretty girl like you to sit with us?” He waves a wad of cash in the air, his mouth formed in a grin that show his teeth. The others are staring at the two like it’s the best entertainment they’ve ever seen.
“Unfortunately I don’t have time to sit with customers. Is there anything else I could get you?” She smiles, holding a tray under her arm. She wants out of the situation, not liking the feeling of all the men’s eyes on her.
“Oh, come on, sweetheart.” The way the man says sweetheart makes Y/N want to gag. “Aren’t you supposed to do anything the customer want, eh? Besides, girls love money, don’t they?”
“I have to go help other customers, let me know if you want more drinks or something to eat.”
As Y/N goes to walk away from the table, the man grabs her arm. “Well hold on a second,” he slurs his words, “I ain’t done with you yet.”
Huffing, she glares at the man. She’s starting to get annoyed. “Listen, mister, I’m working right now, and have to attend to other customers as well.” Her voice has lost its cheery tone. “So, let me go.”
“Ooh, feisty!” One of the other man at the table comments. It makes the other laugh loudly, and enrages Y/N. She is aware this is a man’s world, but she is not going to be their entertainer.
Before Y/N can retaliate, someone else steps in to her rescue. “Hey. She said to let her go.” Carol stands next to her with her back straightened and shoulders pulled back. “So let her go.” Her voice is low, and her eyes are cold. She looks like someone you don’t want to mess around with.
“Well look at you,” the man scoffs, “it’s the wannabe soldier.” He sneers.
“Let the lady go, I’m warning you.”
“Oh, you’re warning me?” He stands up, still holding onto Y/N’s arm. All the humor has left him. “And what are you going to do about it?” He stands slightly taller than Carol, but it doesn’t seem to deter her.
The tension between the two start to grow. Y/N stands there, frozen, keeping her eyes on Carol. She doesn’t want to deal with this right now, her shift is supposed to end soon.
Suddenly, Carol raises her fist, and punches the man square in the jaw. He stumbles backwards into the chair he was sitting in, finally letting go of Y/N. “You bitch!” He shouts, wiping blood away from his lip. He goes to stand up, but before the situation escalates any further, one of the other bar workers come to escort him out.
“You okay?” Carol turns to look at Y/N once the men are out of the bar.
“Yeah,” she rubs the spot the man was holding onto, “thanks for helping.” Her mouth grows into a small smile. “That was kinda amazing.”
Grinning, Carol shrugs. “I have a things for saving pretty ladies who happen to work at this bar.”
Y/N lets out a small laugh as she shakes her head. “Okay, superhero.” Her voice is playful, but she can feel her cheeks flushing. “I have to get back to work now.”
“When do you get off?” Carol follows Y/N around while she picks up empty glasses.
“In twenty minutes.”
“I’ll walk you home,” she states, “me and Maria, I mean. You shouldn’t walk alone this late at night.”
Y/N bites the inside of her cheek. She glances at Carol, feeling warmth rush over her body when she sees the hopeful look on her face. “Alright. I’ll see you in twenty.” Giving her a smile, she returns back behind the bar.
Carol has a huge grin on her face as she stares at Y/N work. “What did I miss?” Maria walks over to her, having been occupied by beating a man’s ass in pool.
“We’re walking her home.”
Maria glances at Y/N, and nudges Carol’s side with a smirk. “You like her.”
“Maybe.”
1987
The front door of Y/N’s small, crappy apartment slams shut as she comes home from her shift at Pancho’s bar. It’s late at night, Y/N is exhausted, and she is sweaty, and she just wants to fall asleep without worrying about anything.
She throws her keys somewhere on top of the dresser she has next to her front door, and kicks her work shoes out of her feet. “Jesus!” A shout leaves out of her mouth when she turns around. Carol is standing there with a sheepish smile and a bouquet of flowers. “You scared the crap out of me.” She mumbles, holding a hand on her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry.” Carol sets the flowers next to Y/N’s key. “You gave me a key, so I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t remember you were working so late.” Her voice isn’t radiating the confidence it usually is. It’s softer and nervous.
The bouquet is big, it has more flowers Y/N has ever gotten before, and it’s wrapped with pink paper. “Thank you.” She smiles, picking up the bouquet and going to her so-called kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.
Carol follows her, staying close by, but still giving her space, she can see how tense Y/N’s body is. “Tough day at work?”
“Something like that.”
It turns quiet while Y/N fills a vase with water from the tap. The apartment doesn’t have any separate rooms besides the bathroom. All the kitchen appliances, a bed, small couch and a television are within reach of each other. It’s definitely not something Y/N wants to spend her whole life in, but she can survive in it, and that’s enough for now.
“How long were you waiting?” The vase gets set down to the single counter she has in the kitchen area.
Glancing at the clock, Carol hums. “Like, a couple of hours, maybe.”
“Carol,” Y/N sighs and rubs the space between her eyes, “you should’ve gone to sleep, don’t you need to be at the base tomorrow?”
“I took a day off.”
“Why would you do that?”
“To spend time with you.” The way Carol’s voice is so gentle makes Y/N want to cry after the day she has had.
Today’s shift felt ten times worse than any other shift in the past, it was full of drunk men and angry customers who genuinely believed in the fact that customer is always right, even when they aren’t. On top of that, her manager thinks the customers are more important than his employees, so he always found a way to satisfy the angry customers, which made them see Y/N as the bad guy.
“Hey,” Carol’s hands go to her cheeks, rubbing them softly, “why are you crying?”
“Sometimes I can’t handle it all.” She gets pulled into a warm embrace. “I was supposed to get out of here ages ago and see the world, but I just can’t get out of here.” Y/N sobs quietly, trying to hold herself back so she wouldn’t ruin Carol’s clothes with her tears and snot.
But Carol doesn’t care. One of her hands is rubbing Y/N’s back, while the other rests at the back of her head. She stays quiet, letting Y/N sob it all out in peace.
The two have been officially seeing each other for a while now. For the first year and a half they mostly danced around each other, both too anxious to make the first move in case they got the wrong impression, and the other person wasn’t interested in women after all. However, during that time, they became very close friends, so when Carol finally did do the first move—thanks to Maria—they moved forward pretty quickly.
Once Y/N tears start to subside, Carol whispers, “take a shower, I’ll make you a snack and ready your bed for us, okay?” Y/N nods, gives her a small peck to the cheek, and makes her way towards the bathroom.
Carol and Y/N are laying on top of each other on the bed as they watch a random movie that’s on one of the night channels. They should be asleep, but they really wanted to spend time with each other, as they don’t have a lot of opportunities to do so.
“Can i ask you something?” Y/N’s quiet voice almost goes past Carol.
“Yeah.”
“Why air force?”
“I’ve always wanted to fly.”
“Isn’t it scary?”
“No.” Carol smiles. She loves the feeling of being free in the air, having the possibility to go anywhere in the world she desires. Y/N hums quietly, not saying anything. “Why do you ask?” Carol tries to move her head in a way she’d be able to see Y/N’s face in the light coming from the television, while not disturbing her position on top of her.
“I just think it’s dangerous is all.”
“Are you worried about me?” She grins.
Y/N’s hand is resting under Carol’s shirt, tracing different shapes on her side. “Kind of hard not to be when i’m in love with you.” She whispers. The grin on Carol’s face falls at the words. She isn’t sure if she even heard her correctly, but she really hopes she did. Y/N moves her head up to see her. “I don’t want to lose you.”
The sentence assures Carol she heard correctly. “You won’t lose me, because I’ll always come back home to you. I love you.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
They kiss, both feeling the smiles on each other’s faces. Carol tightens her arms around Y/N as they pull away. She closes her eyes and listens to the soft sounds of Y/N’s breathing melting in with the sounds of the television, as they fall asleep.
1989
Y/N paces around her house, ruining her nails by biting them. Her eyes are locked on her phone. She is waiting for a call, from anyone, as long as someone calls her and tells her she is overthinking things, that Carol is okay. She has called Maria three times by now, and the air force base once, but none of the calls have been successful.
Carol was supposed to come over four hours ago, straight from work, but she hasn’t arrived yet, nor has she called Y/N to let her know she’ll be late, that’s what she usually does.
Groaning, Y/N picks up the phone and punches in Maria’s number, calling her again. “Come on, come on.” She mumbles, tapping her foot to the ground in a rapid pace. “Damn it!” The phone drops to the table with a crash, few plastic pieces flying off of it from the impact.
No one is answering.
She sits down to the couch, it creaks slightly every time someone moves on it, which had led to some uncomfortable make out sessions with Carol.
Most of her nails are already too short to bite, so she moves to the skin around her them, biting them until she bleeds. Her eyes are locked onto the muted television, desperately trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She is aware of her tendency to overthink and catastrophize things, she always thinks Carol is dead if she hasn’t called by the time she promised to, but that was never the actual situation. This is the same case. Carol isn’t dead, she just got caught up at the base. Nothing horrible has happened.
A knock on the door makes her body relax. Carol is finally here. She lets out a relieved laugh and goes to open the door, however, her face turns to a frown once she notices Maria standing behind it.
“Hey, where’s Carol?”
Maria looks tired. “Can I come inside?” As Y/N nods, she steps in and looks at the floor. “I think you should sit down.”
“Maria-“
“Please,” she looks up at her, “sit down.”
Y/N sits back down on the couch, while Maria stays standing up. She is gathering her thoughts while trying to take deep breaths. “Carol volunteered to pilot with Doctor Wendy Lawson on something important, and the plane, uhm..it-“
“Don’t you dare say it, Maria.” There are tears gathering in the corners of Y/N’s eyes. She knows where this is going, but she wishes she didn’t.
“The plane crashed.” Maria sits down next to Y/N when she starts properly crying. “They couldn’t find anyone, Carol is classified dead. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to come tell you because no one else would’ve.” No one else knows about their relationship.
Not being able to say anything, Y/N just leans against Maria, who has started crying as well. The person they both consider closest to them, is dead.
1995
It has been a week since Carol helped the Skrulls to get out of the Kree’s line of fire, which means it’s been a week since she got her memories back. Ever since then, only one thing has been in her mind, her lover.
It’s early morning as Carol and Maria drink coffee in the latter’s kitchen, Monica still sound asleep upstairs. “What happened with Y/N when I disappeared?” Carol asks, her voice quite hesitant.
Maria sets her cup down. “I’m not sure. She was obviously pretty devastated when I told her what had happened.”
“She doesn’t still work at Pancho’s, does she?”
“I don’t think so,” Maria frowns, “but Carol, I haven’t talked to her in a long time. She stopped answering my calls three years ago. I don’t know where she is, or how she’s doing.”
Sighing, Carol stands up. “I have to find her.”
Naturally, the first place Carol goes to is Y/N’s apartment, though she really hopes she won’t find her there, that she moved on and started travelling the world like she planned to.
She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing happens, so she knocks again, just in case. She’s almost ready to let out a sigh of relief, but soft sound of footsteps coming from inside the apartment stop her. As the steps grow closer, a small, selfish part of her wishes it’s Y/N who opens the door.
Somehow she feels more pain than relief when the door opens, and Y/N stands before her.
They stare at each other, both stunned by the sight in front of them. Y/N has bags under her eyes, and her hair is messy. She is wearing an old t-shirt that once belonged to Carol, her legs are bare.
She goes to slam the door closed, thinking she has finally gone mad, but Carol’s hand stops it from moving. “You aren’t real.” Y/N’s voice is shaky. Her eyes are closed, she doesn’t want to see the person standing in front of her, because it can’t possibly be Carol.
“I’m real.” Carol whispers, but Y/N only shakes her head as an answer. “I didn’t die, I was captured by Krees after we crashed.”
“You aren’t making any sense, you aren’t real.”
“Can you let me in, please?” Gently, Carol sets her hand on top of Y/N’s hand, that is still holding onto the door. The touch makes Y/N open her eyes, and turn them towards Carol. She stares at her for a long while before opening the door wider.
As Carol walks inside the familiar apartment, she looks around for any changes, but it looks exactly the same as it did six years ago. She hates it. While Carol walks deeper into the tiny apartment, Y/N stays by the front door. Her arms are crossed over her chest in a protective kind of way.
“You weren’t supposed to stay here.”
“I couldn’t leave y-“ she stops herself, “Carol.” She isn’t entirely sure if the woman in her house truly is her Carol. “What happened? Who are the Kree?”
“It’s a long story.” She has a gentle grin on her face, one that reminds Y/N so much of the way Carol used to look at her. “You might want to sit down for it.” Y/N shakes her head, staying right where she is. Carol frowns, but nods, sitting down to the couch. It still creaks anytime weight gets put on it. “Shorter version of it is: when we crashed, Dr. Lawson told me the truth about her mission before he was shot by a Kree. Before he could kill me too, I destroyed an engine, which made me absorb energy of a Tesseract, so the Kree took me with him to their planet Hala. I was integrated to their society, I had no memories of my human life. A bunch of years later, I crashed back to Earth, a lot of fighting happened, I discovered my true power and my memories, and helped the Skrulls.”
“I don’t know what any of that means.” Y/N whispers. Any time Carol used to talk about air force things with her, she felt dumb, but all of this is making her think they aren’t even speaking the same language anymore.
“I was in space, and I have powers now.”
“Like a superhero?”
Carol smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’m a real life superhero now.”
“You already were a superhero in my eyes.”
Standing up, she takes a few tentative steps towards her. All she wants to do is hold her, kiss her, tell her she’ll never leave her again. But Carol can still see the hesitation in Y/N’s eyes, she can see the years of pain and exhaustion in her expression.
“But then you died.”
Carol stops. She’s close to Y/N, but too far away to touch her. Oh, how desperately she just wants to feel her soft skin under her palm again, even if the years without her have hardened it. “I’m here now.” She pleads with her eyes��please believe me.
“You won’t stay,” Y/N states quietly, “if you’re a hero now.”
“I can take you with me, wherever I go. I won’t leave you again. I’ll help you get out of this place.” Carol takes another few steps forward, reaching her hand towards Y/N. “Please give me another chance.”
Y/N stares at her hand. It’s more calloused than before, rougher. She grips the skin on top of her ribs tightly, trying to ground herself, she feels like ripping herself apart.
“Please.” Her voice cracks. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I can’t live without you.”
Y/N grabs her hand with her own shaking one. Carol squeezes with a smile, pulling her close slow enough that Y/N can stop her if she wishes to. Once they are chest against chest, she pulls her into a full embrace. The waterworks start from the both of them the second they’re in each other’s arms. Carol letting out all of the pent up grief she wasn’t even aware she had, and Y/N still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.
“I missed you.” Y/N chokes out between her sobs. “I missed you so much.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Carol holds onto her girl so tightly, pressing her against her body like she’d disappear if she let go. “I’m going to show you the world now, because you deserve so much better than this place. I’ll never let you go.”
Although, Y/N doesn’t trust in promises anymore, some small part inside of her sparks hope, that she’ll truly never be separated from Carol again. She’ll even go all the to the stars for her if she has to.
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its-really-dry · 1 year
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y/n: nah bc i have a genuine question
natasha: what is it detka?
y/n: why is manslaughter illegal?
natasha: ..... excuse me?
y/n: like, why can't men laugh?
steve: im sorry to intrude, but did you just pronounce manslaughter as mans-laughter?
y/n: making manslaughter illegal is taking away mens rights which is v sexist
natasha: babe *sigh* that's not how it wor-
y/n: well this is a safe space. manslaughter is heavily encouraged here
yelena: *smirks* glad to hear that *runs to clints room*
natasha: YELENA NO *runs after her*
y/n: yeah lena, womanslaughter is already legal!
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vanillanaps · 8 months
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Still Get Jealous | Steve Rogers
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Request - Hello, I think you are a master writer and I have a drabble of blurb request only if you’re up for it though. Could you write a jealously trope for steve using the song red high heels? :> If it doesn’t inspire anything, that is okay. Thank you!
A/n - I must’ve forgotten how to write drabbles/blurb cause babyyy I got carried again lmaoo. But, unfortunately anon I didn’t find inspiration with the song you requested I still wanted give you jealousy and red high heels, hope it still fulfills you!!
Category - Steve Rogers x Reader, Angst
Warnings - Steve is a jealous asshole with a reckless mouth, reader drinks to ignore the pain
Word Count - 1.3k
♡♡♡♡
It had been approximately two weeks since Steven Grant Rogers left you alone in your apartment after he had broken up with you. In just a little over a month, it would’ve been your year anniversary with Steve. You were both happy and getting ready to take things to the next level, so it was beyond shocking when he sat you down to explain that he ‘just couldn’t do it anymore’ but you were smart enough to spot the bullshit.
Regardless, you cried. You were falling in love, hard and fast just for him to up and leave you out of the blue. But, as the second week of sulking had taken its time slowly ending, something in you snapped. You realized that you shouldn’t be home, crying and depressed about a man who clearly couldn’t give a rats ass about you.
Wiping your tears, you sat up as you searched for your phone in your tangled sheets and blanket. Once you found it, you quickly dialed the number of your favorite girl who could easily take you out of your slump, “Wanda?”
“Hey, Y/n. I’m so glad you called, you haven’t been responding to my text, I was worried.” She had answered the phone with concern in her voice.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just,” You paused, sighing as you threw your covers off of yourself, jumping out of bed, “I’m just sick of crying over Steve you know? I want to go out, I want to have fun, I want to get back to who I was before him—and I wanna do it tonight.”
“Tonight? Y/n, are you sure you’re ready?” Wanda questioned. She was fully supportive of getting you out of the house, but she just wanted you to be sure.
“Yes, tonight. Be ready in an hour.” You told her, hanging up before she could respond, knowing she would try to mother you. Get your real feelings out as to why you were so suddenly ready to go out. But that’s not what you wanted. Even if it was for one night, you just wanted Steve off your mind.
♡♡♡♡
The music blasted loudly in the speakers surrounding the club, the atmosphere through the roof. As you took it all in, you could slowly feel the man slipping from your mind, “Let’s get a drink!” You shouted to Wanda. The two of you held hands as you shuffled to the bar, careful not to lose each other in the club, “Tequila shots please!”
“How many?”
“Just keep them coming!” You shouted to the bartender. He nodded, pouring up the shots and passing them over onto the counter.
“Are you sure, Y/n?!” Wanda asked, picking up her shot as you grabbed yours.
You nodded, “I just need one night not thinking about that—idiot!”
She nodded before holding up her glass to cheer with you, “To forgetting about that idiot!” You both laughed before clicking your glasses and taking the shots.
As promised, the bartender kept the shots coming after each time you both finished one. You felt there was no better way than drowning your sorrows than letting the liquor run through your body, mellowing you out and then letting you forget about the world surrounding you.
But no alcohol in the world could help him forget. Not as he stood in the back corner of the club, watching as you and Wanda take shots back to back. At first, it didn’t bother him. You were out with your friend, having a good time. His ears didn’t turn red from anger until he saw what you were wearing. You had his favorite number on.
A black, skimpy, body con dress that squeezes you in all the right ways, showing off your attributes that he loved. Barely covering your ass so if you were to bend over, the entire club could see all of you. You had your hair in his favorite style and not to mention that red gloss that was painted across those lips that felt like heaven to him. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
Steve made his way closer to you, not close enough to be seen but close enough for his eyes to trail those legs that used to be wrapped around him 24/7. Catching those red, sexy, strappy, five inch stilettos that he bought you. The ones he use to fuck you endlessly in. How could he be such a fucking idiot.
“Wanda, I wanna danceeee!” You slurred, all of those shots starting to take control of your mind and body. You felt good, you felt great.
“Come on!” Taking her last shot, she grabbed your hands quickly pulling you to the dance floor.
You weren’t sure when it happened or how it happened, but at one moment, you were dancing with your best friend, having the time of your life. The next, your ass was pushed up against some man’s crotch as you grinded on him. His hands trailing to any part of your body he could reach. You didn’t mind though, you deserved this. You especially didn’t mind when he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder and neck. For the moment, you were enjoying it and then—you weren’t.
“The fucks your problem dude?!” The random man yelled when you were snatched from his hold.
Your body ran cold when you pulled yourself together, just long enough to see who ruined your dance, “Steve?! What are you doing?!” He ignored you as he grabbed your hand and dragged you through the club and to the exit, “Stop it! Let me go!” He didn’t stop until he got you outside of the club, “What’s your issue?!”
“Two weeks huh? That’s all it took for you to be in the club? Dressed like a hooker and dancing like a slut?” Steve shouted. Immediately he regretted it when he saw the look on your face, but there was nothing he could do to take it back now.
You scoffed, shaking your head, “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that Steve? You broke up with ME for no reason! I cried for two weeks straight because of you! But now, since I’m in the club, with a hooker outfit that YOU bought me, by the way, I’m a slut?!”
Steve's blood was running hot and he was running of anger and jealousy, “You’re drunk, Y/n.”
“I’m not drunk!” You shouted, right before stumbling over your feet, “I’m not that drunk! I’m sober enough to realize that I was doing and to tell you to leave me the fuck alone! I’m not going to spend the rest of my life crying over you when you don't want me! And that stunt you just pulled? Let alone calling me a hooker and a slut all in the same breath? I’m glad we broke up!” You felt it, you felt the tears starting to bubble underneath your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall, “Just leave me alone! I just want to be the person I was before you ruined me, you asshole!”
“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He called out as you started to back away from him, “I broke up with you because I was scared! Everything between us was moving fast and—and I didn’t know what to do so I left!”
“I don’t care, Steve! I don’t care! It’s too late!” You shook your head, not wanting to hear any more excuses. Not wanting him to ruin your night anymore than he already had, “Go find someone else to be scared to fall in love with.”
Just then, Wanda came running out of the club, relieved to see you standing there, “Oh my god, I’ve been looking for you! I was worried.” She breathed, but halted in her tracks when she saw Steve a couple feet away, “Steve? What are you doing here?”
“Leaving, he’s leaving.” You responded for him, turning your back to him and facing Wanda, “Let’s go back inside, I need another drink.”
She nodded, wrapping her arm with yours as the two of you headed back inside without so much as a glance back at the man who realized he truly lost everything.
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Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”
Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.
“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.
Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.
“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.
Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.
Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.
“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”
Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.
“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.
His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.
Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months
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don't smile
kinktober, day two
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a/n: okay but sometimes a handful of photos just come together as if they were made for each other.... like, damn....
warnings: steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, size kink, blowjob, throat fucking, aftercare
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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Thick thighs firmly planted on either side of your chest, hovering above you, Steve’s staggering girth stretched out your lips as he fed you more and more of his length, fucking your throat like a toy till eventually, with a beautifully strained curse, the movements of his hip slackened as his load shot down your gullet. 
Grip digging into the headboard, Steve gently reeled back, sliding his twitching cock out of your mouth. 
When a blissful smile spread across your features, so came a light groan, “ah man,” swiftly moving your chin gently from side to side as you caught your breath, “my jaw,” the soreness now becoming prevalent from how you’d had to nearly unhinge it, almost snake-like, in order to accommodate your love. 
Scooting further down your body, Steve’s hand found the side of your face, lying there on the pillow, “don’t smile, sweetheart,” his fingertips gently circled over the tender muscles, “relax.” 
Grin only growing wide, you then giggled dotingly, “you can’t tell me not to smile, mister,” your own fingers fluttering over his as you gazed lovingly up into his warm eyes. 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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To Know Him Is To Love Him
summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.
pairing: steve rogers x reader
an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.
Anon's 1K Celebration
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to know him is to love him.
to know him is to stand by him.
to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.
to know him to to hope that one day he'll finally see.
to know him is to be broken by him.
you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.
three months ago...
you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.
you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.
"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."
"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.
"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."
your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"
"you know what i meant. you're my friend."
you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.
"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."
two months ago...
"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."
"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."
"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"
"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.
"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.
steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.
sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."
you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."
"soulmate?" sam teases.
you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.
how blind can he be?
one month ago...
"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."
it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."
"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"
you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."
"please, i need you."
putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.
his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.
you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.
you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.
to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.
he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.
you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.
you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."
"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."
his best girl.
he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.
"i missed you so much."
you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."
"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."
you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."
an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"
you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."
"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."
"i understand."
2 weeks ago...
you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.
each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.
you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.
in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.
time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.
you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.
still, he sought you out.
you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.
you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.
at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.
your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.
"steve?"
"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."
"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"
"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."
you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."
"thank you," he sighs in relief.
"what happened?"
"the worst date of my life."
you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.
and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"
"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."
you suck in a breath, "steve..."
these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.
suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.
and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.
you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.
"steve.." you sigh against his lips.
and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."
you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"
"i should go."
and he leaves without another word.
your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.
1 week ago...
he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.
to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.
he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.
"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.
you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.
you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."
you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.
now...
you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.
the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.
"steve," you try to interrupt.
"and all i want -"
"steve."
"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"
"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."
his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"
"you know why," you spit at him.
"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."
"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."
"i don't understand."
"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."
"they why do you answer the phone?"
"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."
"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"
"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."
"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.
a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."
"before? before what?"
each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."
"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."
"and then you kissed me!"
he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."
"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."
"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."
your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."
steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."
"why did you call me the other night?"
"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."
"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."
he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."
you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"
"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."
"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."
"i do love you."
you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."
"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."
"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."
he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."
"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."
steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."
you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."
"please," steve begs.
"goodbye, steve."
you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.
a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.
to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.
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marvelcvte · 10 months
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forbidden touch - steve rogers
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*The above image is not intended to force the reader to identify with any of the people in it. Its purpose is to present the concept of the story.*
pairing: steve rogers x f!reader theme: smut warnings: heavy smut (18+, minors dni), handjob (f receiving), oral job (f receiving), edging, praise kink word count: 1,2k summary: you have a crush on steve and he hears you. a/n: hope you like it!! feedback is always appreciated (:
»»————-  ————-««
The feeling of the much needed rest finally assails you as you get comfortable in your bed. The silk sheet embrace you just as perfectly as it always does.
Working out with Steve Rogers is something that you never thought of doing before, but as soon as you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and Nick Fury, that was the first thing they made you do. And apparently they wouldn't let you on a mission without having completed all the sessions.
You weren't complaining at first, since you had a crush on Captain America since the attack of New York. You didn't know him personally yet and you dreamed about him everyday. But after many, many work out sessions you started to hate him.
Not an enemy-like hate, I mean, you don't want him dead. It's more like you-make-me-horny hate. He is so bossy and demanding, and the fact that he turns you on makes you sick.
Of course, seeing him shirtless for four hours straight wasn't helping either. The hand-to-hand combats are the worst. Seeing him so close to you and smelling those nose-filling pheromones and testosterone is why you ended each session horny.
Today is no different. As your head meets the pillow, the only thing you can think about is him. You still imagine those sweaty pecs bouncing every time he jumped, or his arm flexing every time he took a break and drank from his water bottle.
At those thoughts, you find yourself sliding your hand towards your throbbing core. You are not wearing much, just a pair of panties and a sport bra, and this facilitates your eager hands.
Your fingers run on the fabric of your underwear and your legs begin to shake just at the clothed touch. Not so much time passes, that your hand is in your bare, wet folds.
The index finger finds the little button that gives access to your orgasms and it starts to give it round caresses. All your blood rushes between your legs as you speed up the movement. Your lips are parted, but you don't dare make a sound, at the risk of being heard by someone.
As soon as you pick a good rhythm, muffled words exit your mouth. You can't control your vocal cords anymore, since less and less silent moans flood the room.
For this reason, you can't hear the squeaking of the door and the panting of the person resting on the doorjamb. Steve had heard you and he quietly opened the door to see. He is prying on you even though he knew you wouldn't be happy about it.
But something makes him loose his mind and fully enter the room. As soon as he hears you repeat his rank more and more, he decides to get close to you and touch your thigh, without taking his eyes off what you're doing.
"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" you hear him say as soon as you open your eyes, frightened. The first thing you do is sitting down and covering your shame with the blanket.
"Steve... I mean, Mr. Rogers, what are you doing here? You scared me," you stutter. Your blood rush from your core to your cheeks.
"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention," he replies, staring directly at your face. "Please, continue what you were doing," he adds at the end.
"What?" the word leaves your mouth too quickly.
"You heard me. Do it, or I'll do it."
His demanding voice enters your ears and then that part of your brain that makes you obey, too clouded by excitement and shame. Your hand returns between your legs and starts moving as fast as before.
You muffle your moans directly down your throat and you close your eyes so as not to look at the Captain. But this is not what he wanted and that's why he wraps his hand around your neck, making your eyes meet his.
Your lips are parted again, this time letting your cries being heard. "That's more like it," he says.
"Now, tell me, do you think of me when you touch yourself?" he asks again. You whine in response, but he growls at you. "Use your words."
And that's what you do. You moan a breathless "yes". The tremor of your thighs increases more and more every time your hand collides with your clit. Tears of excitement form in your eyes and they are fighting to not roll down your cheeks.
"Let me see," Steve says in a very rough voice that should be illegal. With a big gesture, he takes off your blanket, admiring all your lust.
Without further ado, he sits in front of you and his hand takes the place of yours. The wetness of your flesh slips between his fingers as he opens your folds. In a jiffy, his head is between your thighs, testing your flavor.
Your head, instead, is brought back again on your pillow. The room is spinning as the man under you is licking the fuck out of you. His tongue is quick and experienced, as if he had already done what he is doing a thousand times more.
He englobes your clit between his lips, all while his arm is resting on your stomach, holding you still. Your hand travels down your body, into his hair. At this touch, his eyes light up and he stops the pleasure.
You stare down at him with a questioning look. But as soon as he moves away, his fingers enters you without warning. They curl up inside of you, touching every right spot.
"That's what were you dreaming about, uh? You waited for this for so long, didn't you?" he asks you, staring at you, while you can't even utter a word. His movement are fast and your wetness is his natural lube. They come in and out with ease.
Your moans fill the room, and for Steve they're music to his ears. "What's my name, princess?" he asks you.
His fingers speed up, spurring you to answer. His other hand returns on you neck, making your faces too much close. You can feel his breath fanning your open mouth.
"Steve," you finally answer.
"Again," he says.
You repeat it again and again and with every word Steve's fingers increase in speed. From two fingers, to three, until there are four.
Your little hole is stretching around his hand and he can feel your walls clenching as you're near your high.
"I'm close," you warn him, hugging his arm still resting on your neck. In hearing these words, the Captain stops. You give him a nasty look, but he smiles and sits not so far from you.
At the lack of contact your body trembles. "Go ahead and finish what you started," the same commanding voice that you hear in those training session is now used to make you come.
He watches you as your hand is back again on your clit. "Yes, just like that, good job."
It looks like you're back in the gym, but you're sweating for something else. It takes little for you to pour yourself on the bed. You feel relieved and invigorated after an exhausting evening that never seemed to end.
As you open your eyes, coming down from your high, you find Steve still watching you.
"You did great. Next time, keep your voice down if you don't want me to hear you. Or don't."
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neonovember · 1 year
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Loved loved loved the steve headcanon. If you’re in the mood, I would an expansion on the “steve is the type of man to never let you go to bed angry, even if you’ve both had a fight and he end up on the coach” because I absolutely agreed and I especially enjoyed reading that! Thank you for sharing this husband!Steve HC.
oh yes most definitely! His mind wouldn't rest until he knows you're at peace. Ask and you shall receive (i must say I did get quite carried away). I wrote this at 1 am so be aware of spelling :)
The Steve headcanon
My soul cannot sleep without you
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The rumble of the car engine comes to a stop as Steve pulls into the garage of your shared home, the living room light is still on and if you weren't already irritated, you'd mentally smack yourself for being so forgetful. Bills weren't cheap, even on an avenger's salary. 
Collecting the ends of your dress you shoulder your way through the car door, slamming it with an oomf for good measure. Steve, of course, shuts his door gently, and it leaves you even more annoyed with him. 
Why is he not angry? 
You don't dare look behind you as Steve begins to jog towards you, you fear the confusion that has been plastered on his face for the last 20 minutes would make you explode. 
You're about to open the door until you remember, he has the keys, Steve is already one step ahead of you, fingers brushing past your elbow as he twists the golden metal into the door nob. You can feel his stare burning into the side of your face but you will yourself not to look his way, to see that look on his face that would have you conceding.
The smell of peppercorn and maple engulfs your senses as you enter your hallway, the soft air of familiarity fails to calm your tense shoulders however, as you pass the framed pictures of you and Steve over the years without so much as a glance.
Reaching your kitchen you notice the bouquet of orchids Steve had bought you earlier today left on the counter, in the rush to get to the compound's charity ball on time you had forgotten to find them a vase.
What flowers would she like?
You search through the kitchen cabinets before you grasp the clear glass, shufflingly through appliances and setting it on the granite counter. You unwrap the orchids, cutting the stems down to fit into the glass vase and filling them generously with water. Steve looks at you incredulously, arms folded as his eyes follow your movements.
"Are you going to say something?" Steve says, his melodic voice travelling through the house, bouncing off the glass vase yet failing to penetrate you.
You begin to clean the stems and spilt water from the counter, ignoring Steve’s attempt at conversation. Did he seriously not realise the brunette practically hanging onto his every word?
Steves's hand grasp your own, stopping you from wiping down the rest of the kitchen, he lifts your chin but your eyes remain downcast, fiddling with the string of the washcloth.
"Can you at least look at me?" Steve says, scanning your face that remained emotionless. His fingers glide across your arms to rest on your cheeks, and the feeling of his hands on you, after she'd touched them has you ripping them off of you. Scoffing, you throw the washcloth into the sink, before turning towards Steve.
"I don't understand, why are you upset? Did I do something?" Steve furrows his brows, his hands gripping his pants as if he's stopping himself from reaching for you.
You scoff at that, "You can't be serious Steve, you are one of the smartest people I know and you can't notice something happening right in front of you?"
He shakes his head, eyes squeezing as he opens them, you notice him scanning over the events prior, but it comes up empty and it has Steve looking more confused than before.
“What's her name, huh Steve? At least tell me her name” You whisper, arms folded as the shimmers of the dress begin to irritate you.
“What? Who?” Steve replies, stepping closer to you
“Who? The brunette who was hanging off of you the entire night Steven” You groan, you hated facing your insecurities, much less voicing them.
There is a momentary pause in Steve as his mind backtracks to the evening, sifting through the hundreds of faces he’d seen tonight, he finally realises who you're talking about.
Tony’s accountant
“Marianna?” Steve scoffs
“Yes, Marianna” You spit her name like poison, but you can’t seem to get her face out of your mind, she’s taken homage next to the laundry you hadn't gotten the time to do. The way her pantsuit fitted her elegantly, sophisticated and modern, she was the woman of the future. And you were just, well, you.
She could pull off a red lip, something that never quite looked good on you, and the very way she spoke told you she said very few words that didn't ilicitate constant adoration. She didn't need to fill the space with empty jargon, every word had meaning.
The constant comparison had followed you the entire evening, and the past insecurities that you had thought you'd overcome seemed to weigh you down like an anchor, pulling you into the deprecation you knew all too well.
It was fine, you’d get over it until she began to talk to Steve, your husband. you didn't miss the look on her face as they conversed, utter, pure amazement. You knew it because you wore it every day, Steve had a way with people, it's what attracted you to him in the first place.
You felt out of place as they spoke about diplomacy and business, and at that moment you had wished you actually listened when Tony pulled you into one of the many long rants you'd gotten used to. 
She wasn't even mean to you as if the playground tactics were beneath her, but it didn't take her calling you a bitch to know the animosity that radiated from her every time Steve had tried to pull you into their conversation. You knew where you weren't wanted and you weren't about to make a fool of yourself. So you left them to it as you sat next to Natasha, who offered you a much-needed drink.
She had noticed your annoyance at Marianna the second she came over, as she always did, and for a second, you wish Steve would too. He was too pure too good, to take notice of the way Marianna got closer and closer to him or the way she bit her lip and laughed a little too hard at one of his lame jokes. The poor man thought she was being friendly, he was oblivious to her true motives.
Natasha held her grin behind an empty champagne glass, snickering when Marianna threw her head back for good measure. You had vented to her there, and she reminded you of the man Steve was. How he was absolutely enamoured by you and you only, how you had him wrapped around your finger so tight he wouldn't even think about looking at another woman that way. It was all things you knew deep down, but that didn't stop your brain from imagining the worst, that he was deep in an affair with his co-worker, and you were the dumb clueless wife who waited for him at home.
You wouldn't let that happen again, not after all those years of betrayal from an ex, you wouldn't let yourself be made a fool. Pride had a way of getting in between reality, and you let it stew you in anger until you were mad at Steve instead of her.
Steve shakes his head, moving closer to you,
“She's just Tony’s accountant, we chatted for a few, that's all doll” Steve replied, carding a hand through his blonde locks. Reasoning, however, doesn't seem to be on your mind tonight as you remember all the lies you've been told starting with she.
She’s just a friend, she’s just an assistant, she’s just...
“Well, she seemed to have taken your attention for the whole night, while I was left drinking champagne of all fucking things with Natasha. She was meant to go find her date for that night, but instead, she was with me” You replied looking towards him in anger.
“Well, I tried to include you in the conversation, but every time I asked for your opinion your mind seemed as if it was a thousand miles away!” Steve replied swiftly hands gesturing around.
“Yeah, because she was laughing every single goddamn time I opened my mouth, god Steve, can't you see what she’s doing?” You replied even faster, swallowing down the brick that began to form in your throat.
“What, what is she doing, I thought I was having a conversation with a colleague, but you seem to know better” Steve quipped, his jaw tensing and his shoulders seized.
“She wants you, and you’re either too blind to see it or already fucking know it” You replied, muttering under your breath.
Steve scoffs, shaking his head, eyes scanning your face as he remains silent.
“Is your silence meant to mean I was right?” You yell, tears beginning to gather on your waterline and you have to pinch yourself to get force them to remain there.
Steve’s eyes never leave your face, the cerulean orbs darting left and right, and up and down as if trying to understand your benevolence. His arm twitches as if he wants to gather you into his embrace and forget this entire evening.
“How can you say that” Steve replies, after a short while, “I was courteous, polite for god's sake, you know I would never do that to you” Steve moves until his hands grasp your own. They’re warm to the touch like he always is, and they begin to soothe the coldness that has begun to take over your body.
It doesn't help though, instead, it reminds you of the times you've been told that your insecurities were imaginary, that the unfaithfulness in your relationship wasn't real. That you, instead were harbouring a secret, the anger you felt then turned to guilt at your own self for even accusing him of cheating. If you were told enough times that your reality wasn't yours, you’d start to believe it.
“Yeah well, the only person I can ever trust is myself” You whisper, spitting the words out and unlatching yourself from Steve's grasp. Steve looks down at you in shock, betrayal and hurt falling over his features, whilst yours turn to stone.
He closes his eyes before opening them again, nodding as if he accepted your anger.
“Fine, I’m taking the couch,” Steve scoffs, ripping off his tie and placing it on the counter, before walking into the living room the loud stomp of his shoes vibrating through the quiet house.
You turn to the discarded tie, grasping it into your palm, the texture of the material felt velvet against your fingers. It was a plain tie, one you'd find anywhere, but it was the first tie you'd ever gotten him. You'd gifted him many over the years, all of them more expensive and chic than this one but he'd told you you'd have to pry it out of his cold dead hands before he would give it up. 
It was his lucky tie because you were his lucky girl.
Where you still now?
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The satin pillow dampened with your tears, you hadn't waited to even close the door before you were muffling a sob that broke out of your throat. Since then, the tears never ceased, you had to shove your face into the covers to make sure Steve wouldn't hear you.
Sleep was fruitless, you had tried everything, but you lay there, like clothes on a washing line, wrung out and left to dry. Your mind wouldn't let the image leave, her fingers grabbing his bicep as she laughed, the way he grinned as his humour got praised.
Was that it, had she given him more attention? More than you?
A billion reasons clamoured your mind as you pushed your fingertips to your eyelids, wishing that you hadn't even gone to the charity ball at all, save the humiliation just for your mind only.
Deep down you knew, you knew that this was all the insecurities of your past coming forth from their hiding places. Steve was the best person in your entire life, he would never, his stupidly good heart wouldn't allow it. But that was just it, he was too kind and nice and good that people like Marianna were able to sink their claws and have their way with him however they wanted.
He thought they were being friendly, but they knew they weren't.
Hours seem to pass before you find the room illuminated with the light of your phone in your palm, your chest feels tight and uncomfortable and you don't know how much more of this you could take.
Tapping onto the folder named “him”, you are met with hundreds of photos of you and Steve throughout the years, starting from the very few dates you had before he claimed you as his, till the wedding night when you both had stayed up to take out the millions of pins in your intricate hair.
In all of them, every single one, Steve displays the same adored, content look of utter satisfaction and love, his eyes sparkled with it, like the sun glittering against the gentle waves and folds of the sea. An endless pool of longing that seemed to have depth only for you, to crash and fight and turn inside and out for you.
Your relationship was never easy, but Steve has always, always been the anchor that brought you back, he never gave up, even when you pushed him away and left him in the dark. Even when the fear of loss and hurt caused you to scream things you didn't mean and do things you shouldn’t have.
You flick across to a photo of Steve looking towards you, a soft grin lighting up his face as you held Clint’s newborn, you were cuddled up on a seat, your knees tucked into you as you were sucked into the guilty pleasure of red fat cheeks and baby fever.
Sam had captured it without Steve looking, sending it to you a couple of days ago with the words ‘Someone wants to be a daddy’. You’d laughed it off but each day you'd come back to that picture. Back to the moment when Steve looked like he had never loved something harder than you, as if it was his first time ever really feeling it.
He loves you, you know? I knew it the day he met you, he has this look on his face, where his eyes get all glazed over and his fingers are reaching for you. It’s like he can’t breathe until he can hold you, like his body will break in two and his heart will stop.
Natasha had told you that one night on the terrace unprovoked, with a beer in her hand and the moonlight falling over the both of you. She had been there from the start, had found you when you were still a shell of a person, back then you didn't even know what love was. You fear if it wasn't for her you and Steve wouldn't have ever met.
“Steve would never do that” 
The sounds of her voice those hours ago ring in your head. It was true, your entire time with Steve told you but what thing, he was not your ex. He was kind, and soft and held you like you were glass and he'd crush you. And then suddenly, as if a switch had been turned in your mind, the light of a dark place turning on you realise how utter fucking foolish you had been.
Steve’s faith in you never faltered, even when it should have he never felt a reason to distrust you, it was foreign, it felt strange to have someone utterly and fully hand their trust and soul to you. And what had you given him in return? Accusations and anger. 
Did he think now, that you did not trust him? That he had failed to show you how you should be loved? How he would never hurt you?
Those men from your past would never amount to Steve, and suddenly you felt you would die right in this room if you didn’t move. If you tell Steve he was enough and that you believed him and that the vows he uttered held true. Every hair on your body itched with this need until the covers were thrown across from your body and your phone was discarded on the bed.
You swung open the door, the cold hair hitting your face and you stumbled through the dark, you run down the hardwood stairs, the haunting reality of your actions following you, you had been so so foolish.
Steve is there, his frantic motions walking towards the bedroom freeze as he notices you. His shirt is crumpled and unbuttoned, and his golden hair is ruffled, the strands falling over his face as if he's run his fingers through it too many times. 
A look of desperation and longing paint his features as he watched you, hands shaking at his sides as he sinks his canines into his reddend lip. You wanted nothing but to hold him now, and the thought bring you to tears, blurring your vision until you miss a step, your heart dropping into your stomach as you brace yourself, waiting to meet the cold hard ground of the kitchen floor.
It never comes, instead, heated, carded muscle wraps around you, and you the smell of Steve, of earth and pine cones has you crying into his shoulder.
He came to you, even when you had screamed at him to leave,
He came to you.
Fresh tears slide down your cheek and you grip Steve, whose fingers softly rub your back, hands tightening around your waist.
“M’ sorry, so sorry Steve, please” You hiccup, covering your face into his shoulder.
“Ssh, my sweet girl, I know” Steve whispers, never seizing his gentle caress. His hands lift your face from his neck, thumb gathering the tears at your waterline. “I know, it’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe for me, hm? 
“In and out, can you do that for me?” Steve breathes out, eyes straining as he watches your shallow breaths ease into semi-normal respiration.
Without a word, Steve collects you in his arms and walks through the house until he enters the bedroom, shutting the door with his foot, eyes never leaving your face as he gently places you onto the now cold bedsheets.
You shudder, reaching for him as he slides in, arms wrap around your sides as he continues his light motions on your back, his fingers come to move your hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.
You turn around swiftly, hands reaching to cup his face before you’re met with his reddened eyes, it's your turn now to brush away the tears before pressing your lips to his,
‘I should never have, Stevie, you, I-, you would never” You whisper against him his chest, the soft rise and fall lulling you into a state of haze and exhaustion. He presses his forehead to yours
“I just want to hold you now, god, I don't know what I will do if I don’t hold you” Steve replies muttering the words painfully. You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself into his stomach as his biceps surround you. The sound of Steve's heartbeat, the rhythmic badum badum badum, engulfs you with a sense of tranquillity you hadn’t realised you couldn’t live without.
Steve, your sweet boy, was the one thing you couldn’t live without, without Steve, next to you, holding you between his arms, you don't think you would ever quite find sleep. Not anymore, not after him.
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keraxxx · 7 months
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Kinktober day 2: Car sex
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Steve Rogers x Fem! Reader
Summary: Title speaks for itself.. Car sex with Mr. Rogers after dinner.
Warnings: 18+, cursing, car sex, oral(r receiving), nicknames, fingering, p in the v, unprotected sex, AFAB! reader, unedited work. (lmk if i missed something please and thank you!)
a/n: HI GUYS. i’m sorry for disappearing but yk i cant miss Kinktober. 🤭 Sorry for missing day one but here’s day two and enjoy!!
Masterlist
^^REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!(+kinktober character ideas)
—————
You and Steve were on your way home from dinner. He wanted to take you out since you both have been having a difficult week at work.
“It’s so quiet in this car.” You mumble. “Let me play some music pleaseee Steve.” You whine as you look over to him. Steve chuckles as he keeps his eyes on the road. “Whatever you want baby.” Smiling, you connect your phone to the car.
You weren’t paying attention to the playlist you put on but there were.. interesting songs. Suggestive, SENSUAL songs. The first song to play was by The Weekend - What you need. Your face dropped as the song started playing, you look over slightly and could see Steve clenching the steering wheel. He cleared his throat, adjusting himself in the seat.
‘I just want to take you there. He don't gotta know where. Does he touch you here like this, this, this, this? Let me take the friction from your lips’
Each word was suggestive. The tension in the air was laying heavy on your chest. “I think i’m just gonna change the song..” You reach to pick up your phone but Steve places his hand on yours, quickly stopping you.
“No.. don’t change it now.” He gently intertwines his fingers with yours. “Be honest, did you purposely put this song on?” You could tell he was getting bothered, squirming in his seat, try to cover his slight hard on. “No i swear. I just put on a random playlist..” You bite your lip slightly, almost nervous.
The rest of the car ride is practically silent. You can see Steve tensing up as he grips the steering wheel, his eyes drifting over to look at you every once in a while. “Fuck I can’t.” He finally blurts out, pulling off to the side of the road. The road was empty since it was kinda late but some cars would pass by.
“I want you. Backseat, now.” He says as he gets out the car. You obey, hopping into the backseat.
You both get into the back of the car and as soon as you shut the door, he pins you against the car seat, attacking your neck with kisses. “Steve-“ “Shhh.” He hissed slightly into your neck as he nibbled at your sensitive skin, making you weak in the knees.
“Please let me take care of you.” Steve looked at you, his eyes filled with lust. “Do what you do best.” You say looking back at him as you begged for him to touch you in any way. He grinned from ear to ear before kissing your neck again, trailing his way down to your thighs. He lifted his hands up under your short dress and god his hands. You loved how skilled he was.
You sit up and look down at him between your thighs, eagerly bunching your dress up around your waist, revealing your panties, revealing your slickness. “All this for me?” He chuckles. “That song really did something to us..” He sighs as he kisses your thigh, slightly licking your skin. You shiver at his tongue on your skin again.
His digits graze over your clothed clit causing you to whine softly. You slightly bucked your hips forward which caused Steve to laugh. He placed a hand on your hip, holding up the dress at the same time before using his other hand to discard your underwear. Your slickness was revealed to him, your skin feeling warmer to the touch.
Your lips parted into an inaudible moan as he touch your swollen bud. You squirmed under his touch and he found this slightly amusing by how bad you wanted him. “Steve please i need to feel you inside me.” You whined as he looked up at you, his fingers making their way down to your entrance. He teased the hole causing you to grunt slightly. “I know you need me baby.” He says in that cocky tone.
You don’t get a chance to talk before he thrusts a finger inside your tight hole. Your walls were clenching around him and he groaned as how warm you felt. You heard him humming along with the song that was playing in the car. “Aw baby.. you’re still so tight.” He smirked as he slowly moved his finger inside you. Moaning, he added another finger inside of you, curling them as he thrusted faster. You bucked your hips into his fingers, needing and yearning for more. “Fuck, right there!”
“You want my mouth? My tongue licking your clit?” He teased and you eagerly nodded. Your hands rested in his hair as he stuck out his tongue, twisting it in all sorts of ways as he licks your clit. The combination of the two was unimaginable. You loved this feeling.
Your whines and moans got louder as Steve groaned against your pussy. “You’re so sweet.” He whispers before kissing your clit. You’re so close, your thighs were squeezing around his head.. “You’re so close i know you are.” He coos and you moan in agreement. “Steve please. Go faste- Oh fuck!” You whine as his tongue flicks faster, pumping in and out of you even faster. You groan as you buck your hips into his mouth, a knot forming in your stomach as you reach your climax.
You whine as you finish, Steve still licking you, trying to clean you up. “You taste so good..” He mumbled softly against your pussy before placing a kiss on your clit. “Come here.” He growled as he got from your thighs. You giggle and hop up from the seat, sitting in Steve’s lap. He groans, his hands resting on your ass as you kiss him. You can feel him growing hard as you grind yourself on him. You eagerly unbuckle his dress pants, continuing to kiss him.
“Fuck..” You whisper as you slide his pants down, struggling as your hands shake, eager for him and his member. “I want you to fill me up.” You say softly and his eyes widen. Steve smirks at you and lifts you up slightly, your head almost touching the roof of the car, as he tries to pull his dick out from his boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of his hard on.
“Come on baby.. sit on it.” He says in a low tone. You moan softly at his words and you slowly lower yourself onto his cock. You cover your mouth to prevent a loud whine from coming out and Steve moans slightly. He thrusts his hips up without warning, skin slapping against skin. You sob at the veracity, but he keeps going, he wanted this release, he wanted to fill you up. He pounds into you and you bounce slightly, your clit throbbing and juices spilling from your opening as he stretches you out. He groans and pull you closer, nuzzling your head into his shoulder. Your eyes roll back and your jaw drops open into inaudible moans. He chuckles at your trance like state, kissing your neck to calm you down, but there was no calming you down. You were doing anything for a second orgasm.
With one last aggressive thrust and a loud gasp, you bite down on his suit jacket as he finally finishes, his cum spilling into you. He laughs and wraps his large hand behind your head as he lets you rest your head into his shoulder, his other arm around your waist.
“Fuck me.” He panted out of breath. “No more sexual songs baby.” He whispered into your ear as he kissed your cheek ever so gently.
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stories4thepack · 21 days
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Save you
Carol Danvers x vampire reader
Warnings: blood, violence, vampire stuff
You get hurt on a mission and Carol is there to help you get better. Even if that means you gotta bite her….
Kamala’s grin had fallen for the first time since the four of you had originally met. Monica was sat Beside you, watching as the few remaining Skrull vanished from the ship in a flash of light. Sorrowful silence replaced their prescience
You leaned against the table, desperately attempting to cover the wound on your abdomen with your hand. You wore a plain, black shirt and matching leather jacket which kindly assisted in hiding the dark blood seeping through the fabric.
“Y/n? Are you alright?”
Monica asked, her stoic face shifting into an expression of pure concern. You tried your best to smile, swallowing down the painful hiss as you got to your feet, stumbling as you took a step away. Kamala is on her feet immediately and Carol dashes to your side, fear moulding her clay face.
“Im alright, just tired. Don’t worry.”
You glanced at Kamala, who’s eyes were tearing up with guilt. She had tried to shield you as the large, rocky over hang had fallen, but she had swapped places the second she used her powers. As a result, a large piece of the boulder had dug itself into your body, while it was removed, the wound refused to close without blood. You shook your head, almost begging her not to mention it.
“She got trapped under one of the rocks that fell.”
She cries out and Carols eyes widen with shock. She had seen you disappear for a moment as she had blasted the falling boulders, but she had never thought for a second that you had been caught in the rocks, never mind been impaled by one of the shards.
“You’re coming wit me”
“Carol-“
You began to protest, but Carol began to drag you from the others into the room down below. Once there, she forced you to sit down, quickly tearing your jacket off your shoulders.
“Carol-“
“Y/n, im going to help you.”
“Carol!”
You tried again as she lifted the bottom of your shirt up, revealing the deep, seeping wound. Blood flowing down onto your dark, vibranium infused trousers. She froze, staring in horror at the wound.
“Carol, you can’t help. The wound is way too bad, I need blood. Pass me one of the bags in the fridge.”
Carol remains staring fixedly at the wound, almost as if she was contemplating her next move. She slowly raises her head, meeting your soft gaze.
“There aren’t anymore. I forgot to ask fury for more.”
“What?!”
You shout, yelping as pain shot through your body at the action. Panic bubbles inside of you. Without blood and with such an injury, your hunger would grow faster than usual. You were a danger to everyone in this ship. You needed to go. Get out. Before you hurt anyon-
“I’m going to help you.”
Carol says again, releasing the words deliberately slowly as she moves her hair away from her throat. Allowing her neck to be on full display. Your eyes flashed red at the sight, hunger boiling in the pit in your stomach and burning through your veins. You snap your jaw shut, locking it in place and lurching away from your girlfriend. She grasps your hands, holding them tightly as she speaks gently.
“Please Y/n, let me help.”
“Captain-“
You muttered, leaning a little closer to where she is crouched in front of you. She gasps lowly as your lips graze her neck, pressing light kisses against her pale skin. You feel her arms wrap around your shoulders, fingers rubbing small, encouraging circles on the back of your neck.
“Go ahead.”
She whispers into your ear, sending chills throughout your body. You sigh, sinking into the crook of her neck, running your tongue gently over the skin there, attempting to numb it a little before you hurt her.
Your fangs slip easily from your gums, trailing the flesh until they froze on your girlfriends pulse point, you pull the strap of her top down her shoulder a little, giving you a greater area to work with. She moans quietly as your fangs sink into her skin, breaking into the vein. Her blood flows into your mouth, the warmth soothes the pain of the wound, you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her up into your lap. She lifts her head up, gasping up at the ceiling as you drink. Her hands trail down your chest to where your wound is, feeling the skin as is twists and knits itself back together. She feels you press further into her throat, your fingers curling around her hips as you attempt to control yourself.
“Y/n”
She mutters, the name barley a whisper through the blur of pain and pleasure. But you hear her, slowly retracting your fangs from her throat before trailing your tongue over the wound. Gathering the blood that had attempted to slip away from you.
“Thank you”
You mutter, barley away from her throat before she grasps your shirt by the scruff and pulls you into a kiss. Her tongue tailing your lips, tasting her own blood in your mouth. She feels the vibration of your moan ripple up your throat as she breaks away, biting down on your neck in return. You close your eyes, feeling her lips suck against your cool skin. Trying hard not to moan in case the others hear-
“Carol, we’re not alone on the ship, remember?”
You manage to force out, missing her touch as she gets up quickly. A sly grin painting her face.
“We’ll finish this when we’re alone then.”
she chuckles, giving a final, desperate kiss to your lips before leaving. Wiping the blood from her neck and leaving you a flustered mess behind her.
(sorry for any spelling mistakes, I did this in The car 😅)
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