#steve rogers lemon

[nastybuckybarnes]

Comfortable

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.

Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really

Word Count: 2.8K

A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much! 

~*~

“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”

The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.

“Barnes lacking?”

You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.

“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”

Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”

You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.

“I... I fake it.”

The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.

“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.

“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”

You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”

Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.

Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.

The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.

“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.

You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.

Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.

If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.

The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.

“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”

You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.

You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.

“I just... I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.

Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.

“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.

“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”

You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.

“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”

He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.

“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”

You take another deep breath then slowly nod.

“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.

Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.

“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”

He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.

You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”

He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”

You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.

“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.

“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”

Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.

“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”

He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.

“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”

You nod again.

“Okay.”

He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Okay.”

~*~

The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.

You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.

He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.

“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”

You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.

“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.

He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.

You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.

Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.

“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”

You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.

And to him, you might as well be.

“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”

How could you possibly say no to that?

When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.

He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.

“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.

You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.

“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.

He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.

You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.

“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”

He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.

He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?

It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.

Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.

Fuck, you look gorgeous.

It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.

“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”

God, hearing that is like music to his ears.

He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.

You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.

A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.

Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.

He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.

Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.

He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.

He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.

Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.

“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.

You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.

“Words, baby. I need words.”

You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.

“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.

He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.

You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.

You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.

He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.

And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.

Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.

“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”

Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.

He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.

“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.

“Right there... oh fuck, please...”

He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.

He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.

You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.

You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.

“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”

He nods, showering your face in kisses.

“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.

His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.

Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.

Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.

Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.

Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.

God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.

His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.

He did that.

He made you feel that good.

He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.

And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky/reader smut #bucky x you #bucky x reader lemon #bucky x you smut #Bucky Barnes smut #marvel smut #Steve rogers #yelena belova #Natasha romanoff #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female!reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #reader insert

[yandereaffections]

Marvel Masterlist

looking for spiderman/peter parker? He has his own Masterlist ❤

Steve Rogers

Delusional Steve

Pregnant S/o

Single Parent S/o

Headcannons

Tony Stark vs Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes vs Steve Rogers

Touchy with friends S/o

How Steve spoils S/o

Amnesiac S/o

Nuclear Apocalypse

Killer Steve

Werewolf Steve

Avenger S/o

Rebellious S/o

Steve finding S/o after running away with another man

Hearing S/o sing

S/os friend helping them Escape

Trying to break up with him

S/o goes missing

Steve protecting Villain S/o

Famous S/o

Delusional 50s Fantasy

Clinging onto S/o who doesn’t like being touched

Hospitalized S/o

S/o Framed into Execution

Living in the 40s with S/o

S/o who can die from pregnancy

Bucky/Steve sharing S/o

S/o who is already dating

Insecure S/o

Professor Steve dating College student S/o

necromancer S/o

Haunted House w/ Steve and Bucky

Werewolf Vampire Hybrid Steve

Alien S/o hiding parts of themselves

Ghost Steve communicating through Ouija Board

Figuring out S/os a Lizard human hybrid

S/o suffering from constant headaches

Someone attempting to drug S/o

Model S/o

At a BLM Protest

House spouse S/o

Easily scared S/o who loves horror movies

Doing his makeup when hes asleep

Platonic relationship with his daughter

S/o spending more time with bucky and sam

Magical girl hero S/o

S/o being on team Iron man during civil war

Bucky Barnes

Headcannons

Winning you over

Bucky Barnes vs Natasha Romanoff

S/o that loves their Stalker

Bucky Barnes vs Steve Rogers

Winter Solider Falling for a Civilian

Gore + Torture TW

Hunted Down

Trick or Treating w/ Bucky

Perusing Dating after Hydra

S/o who is affectionate towards friends

Bucky as a Parent

Prioritizing your child over him

Bucky being in college while S/os still in HS

Bucky w/ Daughter, platonic

S/o w/ cystic fibrosis

S/o who is scared of Bucky

Shoving Buckys head into your chest when angry

King Bucky

Soulmate AU

Crush with a shit boyfriend

S/o that loves pampering Bucky

Running away cause Someone broke in

Running away to the Police

Steve/Bucky sharing S/o

Recently freed Bucky taking refuge with you

Cuddlebug S/o

Pro baker S/o

kpop fan Dancer S/o

Halloween Date

Yandere Letter

Haunted House w/ Steve and Bucky

Shy S/o

Werewolf S/o

Witch S/o accidentally turning herself into a cat

Oblivious S/o

Darlings scared of bugs

Petite S/o

Artistic s/o

Getting a handmade blanket from S/o

S/o insecure about their high pitched voice

S/o whos always tired

Treating his wounds

Torture

Touch starved S/o that doesnt know how to show affection

S/o drools in their sleep

Air head S/o

Darling who enjoys being taken care of

S/o whos kidnapped by random people

Fluff Headcannons

“it feels like home when im with you”

S/o who was verbally abused as a kid, made to believe youll never be loved

Darling who has shit friends

Hydra S/o who tries to brainwash him again

S/o who jokes around when nervous

S/o that likes to be carried by his metal arm

S/o with a regular prosthetic arm

S/o got injured trying to escape

General protective HC

Stephen Strange

Using his powers to get his S/o

Chasing S/o down

Insecure S/o  

Single Parent S/o

Apprentice S/o

Jealous of his Cloak

Using his powers on his Dead S/o

Kidnapping S/o

Yandere Cloak

“Be good for me this time. I don’t want to see you cry again.”

Jealous

Patient S/o

Tony Stark vs Stephen Strange

Taking their S/o away from their abusive family

S/o with a flat chest

Red string of fate AU

S/o with PTSD

Oblivious S/o

Apprentice S/o getting hurt

Poly Naga Stephen + Tony

Cannibal S/o

Accident Prone S/o

Comforting Anxious S/o

Watching S/o sleep

S/o getting hurt during a city attack

Healer S/o distrusting him cause they think hes using them

S/o favoring his cape as a coping mechanism

Asexual S/o

Darling with narcolepsy and chronic pain

S/o is as good and talented as him

Sneaking out only to come back with puppies

S/o who has bad anxiety attacks

Using his cape to find S/o who sleeps in odd places

Chaotic s/o

Quiet s/o playing ACNH

S/os first time seeing snow

S/o whose ok with being kidnapped as long as they can go to amusement parks

Kidnapped S/o keeps passing out due to fear

S/o wanting to dance in the rain

S/o has the power to teleport

Demon S/o

Thor Odison

Headcannons

NS FW headcannons

Loki vs Thor

Loki vs Thor Preference

Stronger than Thor thinks S/o

Teaching Thor about Halloween

Finding Puppies

Loki Odison

Headcannons

Loki vs Thor

Loki vs Thor Preference

S/o in arranged marriage

Using a Love Potion on his S/o

Naga Loki

Affectionate S/o

Teasing his S/o

Valentines Day

S/o who can sing

Insecure S/o who keeps rejecting him

S/os Suicide TW

Brutally taking his Soul mate

Supportive S/o

Harassed S/o

Possessive S/o

Liking his Hair touched by S/o

Halloween Date

Someone cat calling his Darling

Drunk S/o

Asexual s/o

S/o whos best friends with Tony

Depressed S/o

Magica girl S/o

Vampire loki hunting down a s/o whos having fun with it

Platonic yandere  HC

T’Challa

Headcannons

T’challa Vs Erik

S/o getting Married to someone else after he gets Snapped

Tony Stark

Headcannons

“I sent you more gifts! do you like them?!

NS FW headcannons

Sugar Daddy

S/o getting attention to the constant attention he attracts

Tony Stark vs Steve Rogers

Cold in Public yet Cuddly in Private

Pushover S/o

Tsundere S/o

Jealous of the amount of attention Steves giving S/o

The Purge

Plus size Lingerie model S/o

“How else would they know you belonged to me?”

“its like you were made for me”

S/o who doesnt mind his Yandere tendencies

Jealous Tony

Finding a kitten

Shy/Book-wormy S/o

Valentines Day

Stephen Strange vs Tony Stark

S/os first relationship

Nerdy S/o

Poor yet incredibly Sweet S/o

S/o not wanting anything to do with Tony

Touchy S/o Hiding behind him

Zombie Apocalypse

Sugar Daddy to a Male College student S/o

Single Parent S/o

Learning S/o has Terminal Heart Cancer

S/o with a Prosthetic Leg

Cute S/o that listens to Death Metal

Drawing Tony in a maid outfit

Blind S/o

Vampire S/o

S/o who shuts down after kidnapping

Yandere S/o protecting their Love interest

Punishing S/o who tried to escape

Artist S/o

S/o who can see ghosts

Suicidal S/o TW

“Hey demons its ya boy”

Making Halloween costumes

Poly Naga Stephen+Tony

Tonys Type

Hunted Down

S/o having a delayed reaction to being Kidnapped

Injured S/o

S/o being hit on by Quentin Beck

Cyber stalking

S/os in the military

Crush thinking his Flirts are only jokes

Losing S/o to the Snap

Comforting S/o after a bad day

Strong Kick ass S/o

Not knowing S/o immortal, watching them get stabbed

S/o loving DIY stuff

Finding out S/o been begging to Jarvis to help them escape

S/o secretly making robo stuff

S/o having inhuman strength

terrorist S/o

S/o calling ptsd “spicy nostalgia”

Tonys s/o phasing through security after being kidnapped

Life Threatening Situation

Male S/o is a single parent

Modest S/o wont let him spoil them

S/o in a depressive episode

What kind of gifts does he buy his darling

How he shows affection

dealing with competing suitors

Proposal HC

Vampire Tony Hunted down

Incubus Tony

Assassin S/o

Natasha Romanoff

Headcannons

Dealing with competition

Wanda vs Natasha

Bucky vs Natasha

S/o whos not into girls

Hunted Down

S/o Disobeying

Avenger S/o

Choosing S/os Clothes

Shy s/o

Wanda Maximoff

Wanda vs Natasha

Headcannons

Bisexual S/o

Vampire Wanda

ADHD & Autistic S/o

Okoye

Headcannons

S/o who runs away

Nick Fury

Headcannons

Shy and Quiet S/o

Bruce Banner

Being able to control his emotions

Headcannons

Hela Odison

Headcannons

Carol Danvers-

headcannons

Powerful S/o

Single parent s/o

Oblivious S/o

Oblivious S/o is getting flirted with

Vision

Hunted down

Doc Oc

Parental/Platonic HC

Steve Rodgers 

NS FW HC

Cockwarming 

Vocal Steve 

Turned on during a mission 

College Virgin S/o slightly 

Breeding HC 

Femdom 

Bucky Barnes

Stealing S/os underwear 

Another Underwear Stealing 

NS FW alphabet

NS FW Headcannons

Sexually frustrated Bucky 

Getting Caught 

Dominate Bucky 

Sitting on his face 

Stephen Strange

NS FW headcannons

Thor

Werewolf Thors Heat 

Loki

NS FW headcannons

NS FW alphabet

Orgasm denial + Aphrodisiac

Tony Stark

NS FW Alphabet

S/o has a high Sex Drive 

S/os First Time 

Corruption 

NON-CON Bdsm TW

Submissive tony 

Natasha 

“You’re such a pretty little thing tied up like that” 

NS FW headcannons

Wanda 

NS FW headcannons

#marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel lemon #marvel smut #yandere smut #yandere steve rogers #yandere captain america #yandere natasha romanoff #yandere tony stark #tony stark x reader #yandere stephen strange #yandere dr strange #dr strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #YANDEREAFFECTIONS GOLDEN MASTERLIST #last updated 3/5/23 #Last updated 4/24/23

[anika-ann]

Seven Minutes (S.R.)

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 8700

Summary: You’re not obliged to go to that party, but you go because it’s a rare occasion during which most of your fellow Avengers meet and have some fun together. Until someone suggests a stupid teenage game. Until you and Steve end up locked in a closet together and things take a turn you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

Maybe you should have. Whenever Tony or – god forbid – Loki gets involved, it’s bound to end up in a disaster. Only this time, the victim of the shenanigans might be your heart.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 1: Seven Minutes in Hell

“I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out.” ― Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived. Banner, drunk on Asgardian liquor, let out a sensible chuckle at the words and fell asleep as he was, sprawled over one of the couches in the communal area, which looked more like a war zone than an aftermath of a giant party.

It wasn’t the mess of empty bottles and glasses and cushions having been thrown around at some point. It was the skeletons. The fake blood. The few smashed pumpkins, literally beaten to a pulp. Luckily, the one single torn-off arm which some idiot had smuggled in despite the strict ban on those, based on the fact that at least half of the guests suffered some form of a PTSD, had been kicked under the bar and covered by a cloth as soon as you had found it. Tony, despite already finding himself in a drunken haze, agreed to kick the asshole who had brought it out. Steve had shot you a grateful look when you had asked Tony to do so. Bucky – thankfully – never learned about the tasteless joke ever taking place.

Unlike the space, the Avengers had an aura of comfort around them. Lying around, some chatting sleepily, chuckling every now and then, some talking animatedly with a few friendly nudges under the ribs, they lounged in the area and welcomed the 1 a.m. announcement by Friday with relative grace.

Except for Tony, who booed and proceeded to glare at every single conscious Avenger present, one by one; Natasha and Clint comfortable on one couch, Steve and you on the other, Thor filling out a huge armchair, Rhodey looking a bit small in the other in comparison, Wanda practically lying in a lounge pug with Vision hovering by her like a guard, Helen and Maria crossed legged on tiny tabourets, Sam and Bucky, having been fighting each for their space on the couch, now sitting carelessly with Bucky’s feet against Sam’s thigh. And then there was Loki, spinning slowly in his egg chair he had charmed up and kept up in the air with his magic, Pepper having reluctantly sat down in the other which Loki had graciously made for her with a snap of his fingers.

“Seriously, guys! Just… boooo! This party is dying! We need to shake things up!” he called out theatrically, standing in the middle of the Sleepy Hollow with judgement written all over his face. Then, he lowered his voice, a wicked smile twisting his lips. “Do you wanna play a game? I do.”

At least four distinct snorts sounded around the group at his poor impression.

“Really, Tones?” Natasha questioned, probably referring to both his acting skills and the suggestion.

“I do want to play a game. It’s called let’s go to bed,” Bucky groaned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his feet back to the ground, startling Sam in the process.

“The night is still young, Barnes,” Clint huffed despite his eyelids barely staying open as he kept twisting a rubber imitation of femur between his fingers. “You sound like an old man.”

“Oh? That coming from you really says something,” Sam pointed out, a good-natured smile curling his lips; at the same time, Tony hummed: “Or a kinky one.”

“I must say I agree with Stark this once,” Thor boomed, nodding thoughtfully as several voices groaned at the gleeful grin lighting Tony’s face. “There seems to be a lull to these revels and it is indeed too soon to retire to bed. The sun has not even risen yet!”

A single clap of hands and Tony was gesturing towards Thor. “See! The Asgardian agrees with me. I must be right.”

“I bet he’s already regretting his words,” Steve noted, drawing a small chuckle from you.

In all honesty, you would be inclined to agree with Bucky on this one. Going to bed sounded heavenly, but there was one huge disadvantage to bed compared to the Sleeping Beauty Castle the Halloween party had turned into: the company wasn’t nearly as good. You weren’t greedy – you wouldn’t need all the Avengers present to come cuddle you in bed. Just one would do. The one whose thigh occasionally brushed yours as you talked about anything and everything, all kind smiles and a slightly tipsy spark in his gorgeous blue eyes which were complimented by the treacherous midnight shade of his one-size-too-small shirt.

“Now, now, Captain. The other Asgardian agrees too,” Loki’s voice slowly sneaked in, something in his tone causing your heart to skip a startled and yet excited beat.

Loki was… a friend. After trying hard for redemption, he had begun to join the Avengers business on occasion, his magic always proving to be of enormous help. His humour was a little wicked and twisted, but his heart was not nearly as dark as people had believed – or even he himself had. You sensed Steve’s wariness towards him still and understood his reasons; and secretly, you revelled in the worry Steve expressed whenever you spent time with Loki, which the golden-hearted captain feared you did so with a little too much trust.

The only reason why you wouldn’t throw it back to Steve’s face that he was questioning your judgement was the fact he had admitted he did actually not do that, ever – but simply cared for your safety – and that fact that he attempted to be as respectful about it as possible. That and the heartwarming knowledge that he thought of you, one way or the other. Maybe him being the person who was giving out the gentlest hugs could have played a role as well. Or perhaps even that you had – like a silly, silly girl – fallen for him long time ago and would let him not only get away with murder at this point, but probably also ask him if he needed any help to hide the body. Because you’d either believe him it was for a good reason that he had committed the crime, his moral compass just about perfect, or simply because he deserved the most loyal friends and loved ones he could get.

The sudden heavy thud snapped you back to present, causing you to jump in your seat. Steve’s warm hand covered yours in an instant, gaze trailing to you to make sure you were alright. As he gently squeezed your hand, you glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile.

He let go as soon as your gaze returned to the source of the noise: a large closet now standing a few feet from the seating area.

“How about this?” Loki suggested, calmly beckoning to the piece of furniture having just appeared out of this air.

“Do you… want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Wanda, suddenly wide awake at the stronger present of magic, questioned.

“Why not? I was under the impression Midgardians enjoyed this game during a party.”

“What are we, thirteen?” Sam asked, eyebrows creased sceptically.

“…going on thirty? Good movie,” Clint hummed, his grin showing pride at his reference.

“Ew, no-“

“Do you even know what Seven Minutes in Heaven is about?” Natasha asked, her expression intrigued; you had no doubt her mind had already begun to race as she tried to decipher the trickster’s motivations.

“Yes. I am quite pleased by the concept. If we play, perhaps I will be lucky enough to spend some private time with lovely Lady Speedy.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your gaze found Loki’s, a provocative smirk twisting his mouth. Interesting. Maybe even intriguing. Except it was not; at least not for the reason one might think. Loki was not at all interested in you. If he had, you would have known without a shadow of doubt. He wasn’t one for subtlety; if he had had an eye on someone, he would make sure to court them, persistently so. Or perhaps he would simply take.

No, Loki had not spent time thinking of you, much like you hadn’t spent time thinking about him.

There was only one Avenger whose company and love you longed for and had for the longest time – and you wouldn’t be surprised if Loki knew. What you hoped he had no idea about was the fact that you could have had it, once.

You could have had Steve, but you had mucked it up, too shocked to yes when he had asked. It had felt too fast, too surreal to be even happening – Steve Rogers asking you out for a cup of coffee – too good to be true.

Naturally, in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he had been too polite to disrespect your decision or let it negatively impact your blooming friendship back then; he had not made a single attempt to ask you out again since. In return, you had been too embarrassed to explain yourself – to explain that you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, if not in the universe, that you would have jumped at the chance if he as much as hinted he was still interested – and in a very mature way, you never mentioned it again.

That was fine. You and Steve had become friends. Perhaps even good enough friends to mention it as an awkward memory; and only that, because you doubted that he was still carrying a torch for you. He had even briefly dated with Sharon Carter after the incident; he clearly moved on, because there was nothing to move on from. You had barely known each other back then. It wasn’t like you broke his heart or something. You just decided mess up what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Instead, you had a comfortable caring friendship. That counted as a win, yes?

And if you ended up in a closet with him for seven minutes now, you would, once again, acted like mature adults and… hug or something, yes? You would not give in into some stupid game and kiss him just because you’d have an excuse to do so. You would not be tempted to--- no. You respected Steve too much for that. You would never make anything to make him uncomfortable; if you had, you would not only not deserve to call yourself his friend, but even a decent human being.

And you were not thirteen anymore. You knew better. The awkwardness would not be worth it; the rejection would not be worth it. Losing the gift of Steve’s friendship would most definitely not be worth a few seconds of Heaven, of testing whether his lips were be as soft and gentle as you thought, if they tasted like you dreamed of. Knowing whether he would respond, whether he would kiss you, whether maybe, just maybe, there could be the faintest traces of seeing you differently than a friend and colleague.

No, the stakes were be too high.

“Hm… I think we should play,” Natasha said, earning at least five shocked stares, including yours.

“What?!”

“We should definitely not,” Steve protested, leaning forward with a very displeased frown, his eyes burning as he glared murderously at Natasha for entertaining the trickster’s whim.

“I mean… why not, after all? Two people in a closet, in cramped space? What is not to enjoy?” Bucky added, clearly changing his mind about going to bed. He was next at the receiving end of Steve’s disapproval.

“Ask a claustrophobic, I’m sure they’d come up with a reason or two,” you hummed, earning a sardonic ha ha from the dark-haired supersoldier.

“I mean… who knows. Could be magical,” Tony wiggles eyebrows.

“Are we back to 13 going to 30?”

Wanda, Pepper, Maria and Sam said NO with impressive coordination.

“I must say I am intrigued as I cannot quite see the appeal. It would be an enriching experience for me to understand. What is the worst that can happen?” Vision questioned.

“You did not just ask that,” Sam complained.

“Please tell me it’s just a closet and not some sort of a portal to Narnia?” Pepper chimed in, Loki’s smile surprisingly pleasant as he turned to her.

“It is simply a closet, my dear Lady Potts.”

“I don’t know, you guys, it still sounds like a pretty bad idea,” you chuckled nervously as you felt the air shift towards agreement to participate in this ridiculous game.

“Seconded,” Steve grunted by your side – but it was too late.

“Too bad, I’m getting an empty bottle,” Tony blurted out as he practically sprang after the nearest bottle indeed.

It was the perfect opportunity to walk away; it was the last chance to get out.

You didn’t.

Perhaps you didn’t want to look like a coward. Maybe you didn’t want to be a party pooper. You guessed you hoped they would scrape the idea after one round, because they would realize the game was lame and boring. Maybe, just maybe, a little part of you wondered if something interesting would come out of it – and you didn’t want to miss it.

Those were the things running through your head when you walked side by side with Steve, cursing the universe or some sort of physics cheat Tony had pulled or maybe Loki’s magic. Because of course it happened. Of course, the bottle pointed at you – and then on Steve.  

Could have been worse, you reasoned with yourself. Could have been… yeah you didn’t know who. Bruce who might turn in to the Hulk while in there was asleep, so he never was an option.But it was too late to back out now.

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you walk in first, offering a hand, a gentle smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at your friends being children. You squeezed his hand and smiled back, grateful – and calm.

Yes, being with Steve in such tight space with the knowledge what the game was about sent a few tempting thoughts into your head – but you’d be fine. You’d just chat, privately; you had done that countless times before, late night talks and maybe even your head resting on his shoulder when you got too sleepy to sit straight. You’d be fine.

Steve climbed up after you so you stood face to face, flashing you one last comforting smile. And then Tony closed the door behind you, leaving you in utter darkness.

Your first thought was that the inside of the closet was a lot smaller than it had appeared from the outside.

Your second thought was that perhaps that was not the fault of the closet or your eyes; the sheer width of Steve’s shoulders and other proportions of his body which had starred in too many of your dirty dreams and innocent fantasies alike were to blame instead.

Your third thought was that the air was becoming a little too hot and heavy to breathe a little too fast and that you weren’t certain you could last seven full minutes in this space where it felt you might as well already be wrapped in Steve’s arms. The subtle tones of his woodsy cologne, the heat radiating off his skin, the faintest light peeking through the door reflecting in his slightly ruffled hair and in his eyes, caressing his features the very way you always wished.  

Your fourth thought was, incidentally, less of a thought and more of an emotion – a red hot one at that. The flash of anger that ripped through you honestly took you by surprise, and hit you too hard to be ignored.

Because this was stupid.

This game was the stupidest thing possible that your friends could come up with. Steve was entirely stupid with his brilliance and courage and care and morality and outrageous handsomeness and most of all with giving you hope once that you could be good enough for him, that there was a glitch in the universe large enough that would somehow made the two of a potential couple. And you, oh you. You were the most stupidest of it all. To allow yourself to hope as well. To not let go of that fleeting seconds when the light of Steve Rogers was in your reach and you stood there like a dumbass without grabbing it, never speaking of it again then and yet still carrying a torch for him for two idiotic years.

Maybe if one of those things had been different – most likely of all, you – you could have been making out now. Maybe, you would feel his gentle touch in these shadows; or maybe hungry touch even. Maybe, because your friends were nosy assholes and drama queens, they would have banned you from participating in this in fear that they would have to disinfect the closet after you got full seven minutes in here.

Instead, all you had was a tentative brush of Steve’s hand to your elbow and the kind rumble of his voice, laced with worry.

“Hey, Shines. Are you okay?”

Ah yes. Another maddening thing: Steve’s sweet nickname for you. Where others called you Speedy – because of how quickly you had finished the intelligence test and made your way up in the Initiative – Steve had expressed his distaste in the nickname because just around the same time, he had learned about the modern term “speed”. Apparently, he did not like the idea of calling you something that reminded him of amphetamines. So instead, he had once admitted, he converted it in his head to the speed of light. And so Shines had been born.

The affection he sometimes spoke the single word with – the affection you longed for and mostly only imagined – was perhaps even more idiotic than your lack of reaction to his slightly shy advance two years ago.

For someone with your IQ score, you really were surrounded by stupidity and radiated it generously yourself.

The chuckle that escaped you tasted bitter on your tongue. “Why, sure. You?”

Even with the limited amount of light, you could see Steve’s searching gaze clearly. You could practically hear his mind whirling, wondering where the sudden ire had come from.

In an instant, you felt bad for snapping. Your trouble and your insecurities nor your anger at yourself were something he deserved to bear consequences for.

“I’m… fine,” he said after a while, kinder than you would have in his place. “Is there anything I can do to make the ‘sure’ better?”

Yeah, you thought. There were quite a lot of things; either put his mouth on yours – or elsewhere on your body, you weren’t picky – or maybe stop being so damn good of a person and being so damn loveable all the time when he didn’t mean anything beyond friendship by his behaviour.

You swallowed the once again bitter note and charmed a smile, your hand covering the back of his, still softly resting on your elbow.

“No. But thank you. I’m… sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he replied, eyes still searching. And soft. So annoyingly soft and caring.

You lowered your gaze and gulped, not finding it in yourself to respond. What could you even say to that?

The problem with Steve was that even if you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel him looking at you. At rare times, it felt like a punch, if he got truly angry with you – when you did something he considered stupid and dangerous as if you hadn’t been quite inspired by his own bravery – but at other times, like this, it felt like a fluffy blanket and a warm cup of tea pressed to your hands when the blues came knocking on your door.

No words were spoken for a long minute. And then, like you should have known they would, Steve’s arms carefully pulled you to his chest and wrapped you in a hug which felt just like his gaze a moment ago; except this feeling was real. He sucked up all your anger and frustration you into his chest with ease, breathed in once, then twice and unlike you, he simply let it go, allowing you to soak in his affection instead. 

You could cry at the sweet gesture. Sweet, sweet Steve: deadly force, righteous passion, beautiful soul and infinite kindness locked in a body of a gentle giant.

“Thank you,” you muttered into his shirt and you could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, arms tightening just a fraction.

“Any time.”

You felt your lips curl up in a smile too, allowing yourself to bask in the goodness he was. Strong embrace, but kind. Almost too hot to touch, like a sun, but somehow still feeling like sunshine instead. Lips soft as they touched your hairline, fingers gently running through the length of your hair-

You stiffened. It felt too good; it felt like what you wanted but didn’t actually have. Steve Rogers did not kiss you; not your cheek, not your lips, not your forehead or the crown of your head.

Or at least he never had before.

“Steve?”

His smile was a little bashful as he retreated, his hand sliding down your hair, holding your chin in gentle hold you could easily escape should you want to. But you didn’t. Why would you when his thumb caressed your cheek, eyes firmly holding your gaze even as his smile was slightly shaky?

You didn’t dare to stop whatever this was; because this was what you wanted. Whether this was Steve giving into the game only or anything else, you’d take it. Because you didn’t start it, you didn’t force him into something you wanted. He initiated it; he held you as if you were something precious all on his own. If this behaviour expired in a few minutes, well. At least you would have a sweet memory to cherish, wouldn’t you?

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

Your eyes must have been wide – even ridiculously so – at the admission, your heart like a thunder in your chest and in your ears. You… certainly you must have misheard. You must have misinterpreted what he was trying to say. That was not right. Was it?

“…you have?”

His smile widened, eyes full of good-natured amusement. “I’m always thinking of you, Shines. I’m honestly surprised I’m keeping it so subtle that you are this shocked by the revelation.”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. You must have breathed in something. You had too much to drink. Tony sneaked some edibles into the refreshments – yes, that had to be it.

But then the even more rational part of your brain chimed in: you could never dream up something as detailed. And Steve would have been immune to the drugs. He hadn’t drunk too much of the Asgardian liquor from Thor’s flask either.

You were both perfectly sober at this moment – as insane and surreal as it felt. Did Steve really…? You swallowed the slightly hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up your throat.

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t make fun of this, would you?”

Steve’s eyes grew serious even as they remained kind.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he assured you, the slightest hint of offence in his tone. “You’re just… you’re everywhere. I try to focus on work, but you’re always on my mind. That smile, those pretty eyes. This… this drive and passion you have and turn it into hard and good work and kindness. Those gorgeous, gorgeous lips…”

You licked again them on instinct, not missing the fact that Steve’s gaze flickered down at the motion.

No way. No way.

You had hit your head. This was a fever dream, this… this was all you wanted and needed, it couldn’t possibly become true all of sudden. Right?

But if this was a fever dream, you might as well enjoy it. If it was reality, even the better. Because Steve Rogers was serious in matters of heart – he was most definitely not pranking you. So if he was saying he had been thinking about you, you had no reason to doubt him.

There rarely ever was a reason to doubt Steve Rogers.

“I… I think about you too,” you reluctantly admitted, his lips suddenly so, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke only one word in response.

“Good.”

The first touch to your lips was nothing but tentative; nothing but temptation and yet everything you could ever want. His hand cradled your face like precious porcelain and his kiss was like one of an artist asking his muse to allow him into her favour. Warm and soft; his lips were as soft and gentle as you had always thought they would be. The tender brush of his fingertips to your face however made your first kiss all the sweeter, as did his smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he released your lips. The giddy feeling burst inside your chest with intensity you couldn’t possibly contain.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna have to agree with good,” you whispered; and before you could feel silly, Steve’s low chuckle echoed in the limited space, his thumb tapping your lips.

“Yeah.”

That was the only warning you received before his mouth were back on yours, letting you taste that smile of his; his arms, still around your waist, pulled you closer against the hard planes of his chest, the sensation reminding you that you could in fact too do more than simply lay your hand on him. He appreciated your initiative with a content hum, the vibration against your lips sending pleasant shivers down your spine and into your belly. When he deepened the kiss, his touch on you growing firmer, angling your head to his liking, you felt like you could melt from the inside, all nerves on the most beautiful fire.

Your startled sound when your back bumped into the wall of the closet drowned in Steve’s mouth, your parted lips but an invitation for him. The sensations were quick to rise into your head like a heady wine and suddenly only seven minutes in whichever alternate reality you felt as if you had entered seemed unfairly short. Your fingers flexed in the material of Steve’s shirt, his large palm sliding to your hip and squeezing. His hips rocked ever so slightly against yours and the semi-hard bulge pressing against your core had you whimper his name just as his lips moved to your jaw.

“Love hearing my name like this from your lips, Shines,” he whispered like a secret into your skin, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh and nearly causing your knees to buckle. I’ll say it as much as you want, you wanted to say, the words stuck in your throat, only a breathy Steve coming out again, much to his apparent delight. “That’s it. Wanna hear it more… but not here.”

The flash of a rationality was brief; before it could take, his lips were back on yours and you felt yourself falling, leaning into his touch, hands wandering over his exquisite body, hips rutting forward at the beautiful, beautiful groan your touch elicited from him.

I did that. He wants me, he wants me like this. I want him. I need him.

The simple thoughts occupied your brain, a last portion of coherency you managed as his palm slid to your ass with purpose and pressed you against his hardness in a promise of what was to come. You decided that you could die a happy woman right there and that you needed his mouth on your more than you needed oxygen; you grabbed onto his face, pulling his lips back to yours, rewarded by a deep kiss and both of his hands grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a little too much vigour.

You succumbed to the pleasure of his touch, head spinning, the world passing by in a blur.

It didn’t matter how you got into his room next; it didn’t matter, not when his hands were on you again, an absurdly polite can I? as his dextrous fingers slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder, a kiss to every inch of the newly revealed skin, leaving nothing but hunger for more in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he praised as he mouthed at your skin, the new endearment causing your heart to tremble, stomach fluttering pleasantly. “The times I imagined this, imagined you… turn around, Shines.”

You’d swear that you would let Steve Rogers get away with murder; but asking you to turn away from his hot lips, that was toeing the line of insanity.

“Steve-“

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he cut of your protests, strong hands simply spinning you around.

He rewarded you for the lack of resistance by placing his hand over your stomach, skin hot even over the thin fabric, pressing you back against his chest and his more than evident arousal, lips attaching to the column of your neck, sliding the other strap of your dress down. Instinctively, you leaned your head back, exposing your throat to him, a small but sharp nip of teeth sending a fresh wave of arousal into your core.

Long fingers slid up your throat, turning your head so his lips could meet yours again, demanding and yet so giving, hand inching from your belly down your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress and causing your breath to hitch.

God, you needed him. You wanted him in every way possible, but if this was what came before he’d take you out, you had zero problem with that. You needed to feel him.

The please escaping your newly freed lips sounded almost pathetic to your ears, but Steve clearly disagreed with your assessment.

“Oh sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this… and look at you,” he rasped, nudging you to actually look ahead, only for you to realise you were now facing the tall mirror of his closet, gaze setting on your own face, dominated by the kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown up by lust. “Gorgeous… and you’ll look even more beautiful when you’re coming apart for me. First on my fingers and then…”

You shuddered when his fingers finally slid under your skirt, caressing the lace of your thigh-highs, chest vibrating against your back with an appreciative hum. Your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, only to find his eyes laser focused on your face in the mirror, flashing darkly when his fingertips found the soaked fabric of your panties and pressed.

“So wet for me, Shines. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Can’t wait to make you mine… you want that, don’t you?” he whispered, your lips parting wordlessly and at the very moment, he pushed the offending fabric to the side and dipped his index finger in your slick. He stroked a few times, coating his fingers in your essence and entered you with two with laughable ease. You pushed your hips forward on instinct, already needing more.

“Steve, oh god-“

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, free hand pressing your back to his front, hardness digging into our ass. “I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…”

Vainly wriggling against his strong hold because that was exactly what you wanted, you caught his smile in the mirror, his lips pressing softly against your temple as his fingers begun pumping in and out of your tight channel, stealing the breath from your lungs. Resigned and secretly thrilled by his dominance, you leaned against his chest, letting your head fall back against his strong shoulder, praying he’d give you more soon.

Instead, he pulled his fingers out altogether, painting your inner thighs with your slick, stepping back, leaving you cold and empty.

“St-“

His hand landed gently on your shoulder, his other hand easily sliding the zip of your dress down your back, letting it fall to the ground. Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your stockings, soaked panties and lace bra, you shuddered under Steve’s hungry gaze; but at the same time, the adoration and admiration shining from his gaze even made your stomach flip and stopped your hands from self-consciously covering yourself at least a bit.

You weren’t shy. You weren’t ashamed of your body; but goodness, Steve’s eyes trailing the length of it, taking in every inch of bare skin and appreciative of how the fabric hugged the parts still covered made you feel like a goddess. A muse.

His gaze was hypnotic as his eyes met yours in the mirror again, his smile soft before it earned a lustful edge.

“You’re a piece of art, Shines…” He stepped back to you, lips attaching back to your neck and his fingers pushed the panties down and let them slide down your legs, hand sprawling over your pubic bone and teasing your core with his fingers again. “And I’m going to appreciate that in every way I know… but you’re gonna watch. I wanna watch you as you fall apart for me, and I want you to see how beautiful you look when I make you mine. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t think. You nodded at the promise of pleasure, instantly rewarded by three fingers stretching you, one of your hands landing on his wrist to keep him inside, the other grabbing at his head behind you. You felt his smile against your neck before he sucked on your skin, setting a punishing pace, this time letting you meet his advances. The sight of his large hands over you was insanely erotic; his size and strength captured in a repetitive picture, your muscles contracting as you tried to encourage him to give your more. The pleas seamlessly blending with his name were falling from your lips as the pressure inside you built and built, the wicked curl of his fingers nearly having you reach for the stars.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Steve-“  

“Watch, sweetheart,” he reminded you feverishly, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his blown pupils, dark, pleased and unabashedly on you taking his fingers one moment, on your face contorted with pleasure next, the sheer hunger in his gaze aimed at you only adding fuel to the heat in your abdomen.

You tried to keep your eyes on your pair, you truly did, just to please him, just to gain more. It earned you a whispered praise to your ear, a sucking kiss on your throat and circling motions on your clit.

That had you were done for. Your eyes fluttered close as you clenched around Steve’s fingers with a breathless cry, ecstasy exploding inside you and lighting your body on fire.

You could feel Steve’s burning gaze on your still, but he didn’t push you again, didn’t deny you just because you didn’t give him what you couldn’t at the moment, too wrapped in your bliss. Of course, he didn’t. He was still Steve; much filthier than you imagined, but still himself. Warm and safe, holding you close when his motions slowed down, prolonging your pleasure, still supporting your weight when your legs nearly gave out. Chuckling silently with an adoring soft kiss to your jaw when you breathed out a thank you, thinking about the fact he caught you, probably sounding as if you were thanking him for absolutely ruining you with his fingers only, not so subtly showing you that you might not survive when he’d turn it up a notch and actually took you.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he whispered into your hair, carefully pulling out his fingers as not to hurt you. “Even more beautiful that I imagined.”

You shuddered, unable to respond with words, turning around and chasing his lips instead. He obliged and kissed you sweetly, wrapping his arms around you close, only now having you realize he was still fully clothed himself. And that the way his had cock pressed against his slacks must have been painful at this point. For that reason alone – that he put your pleasure before his, as you knew he would – you would sink to your knees in an instant if your core wasn’t already throbbing for him.

“I want you,” you said against his mouth, revelling in his smile and the playful nip on your lower lip he graced you with upon your admission.

“Good. Because I need you. I need to see those pretty lips parted for me and unable to speak anything but my name when I fill you up so well you’ll never even think about another man again,” he said slowly, letting every heavy syllable sink into your skin and have your already racing heart nearly give out – and letting your lips loose.

“Yes. Please.”

When you suddenly found yourself in the air, held firmly in his arms and carried to the bed, you couldn’t find the shame in you to be bashful about your needs.

Because when he sunk into you and delivered on his promises, you felt like you entered another plane of existence. When his hands grabbed onto you, his body an art piece you could feast your eyes on and touch, you suddenly understood his need for a mirror, for a glimpse from every angle, the absolute beauty of your bodies together as one, of seeing him lose himself to pleasure of his own.

His chants of endearments, praise and mine echoed in your ears, your lips indeed only remembering to speak his name, whisper it and scream it. When he lifted you to your high two more times, filling you with his spent to make you his indeed, you knew that you would be his forever; you had been for a long, long time.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…”

“Yours, I am yours.”

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly realized you never knew darkness could feel so violent to your eyes. Steve’s deeply concerned gaze was firm on you, frown settled in his brows, both hands on your biceps holding you as if you were about to pass out any second.

His relieved breath brushed over your face, shoulders sagging.

“Thank god, Shines. I was starting to get worried. Are you alright? It’s like you went to a completely different place for a moment there.”

Why were you standing? You had been just lying down, the heat of Steve’s skin seeping into yours from your back and his arm wrapped around your middle as you had fallen asleep.

“What?” you rasped, feeling the ghost of the soreness in your throat as you nearly lost your voice having screamed his name. You blinked again as the image of his beautifully red parted lips trembling with your name flickered in front of you, disappearing just as fast – replaced by him growing worried by the minute.

In a closet. You were in a closet. The sound of idly chat and chuckles dimmed by the walls of the closet reached your ears. The party was still in a sleepy swing; a stupid game was still on.

The realization was like a bucket of icy water dumped on your heated body, all-consuming confusion swallowing all your thoughts.

But… how? You--- that wasn’t- you had been to Steve’s room. He had—- he had kissed you, right here, a dream coming true when he admitted he was still thinking of you and was ready to act on it, his hot soft lips, his hands, deliciously long thick fingers, wickedly dextrous as they sneaked between your legs, opened you up for his--- he had stretched you so good, in every way imaginable, his gaze so dark as he watched you both in the mirror, so sweetly and devilishly delighted at filling you up to the brim, making you his-  

“Okay, that’s it, Shines. We’re out of here-”

“No!” you blurted out, horror seizing you at the mere thought of coming out to the light right now. With you face flushed; with your core painfully empty and slick even as the aftershocks of your orgasms, having felt so real, turned from echo of pleasure to mortifying all-consuming shame. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m fine. I just… I must have had too much to drink and zoned out.”

“You didn’t drink that much,” Steve opposed swiftly, his gaze so unnerving, and could he just stop, stop looking at you like he cared, so sweet and nice and so frustratingly not yours even if the affection in his gestures felt all the same as in whatever fucked-up dream experience you just had just been through. “We should-“

“Please, don’t-- they’re never gonna let us live this down if we bail,” you argued lamely, unconvincing even to your own ears, feeling tears burn in your eyes and desperately trying to stop them from showing.

“Fuck that. It’s just a stupid game.”

‘Fuck, look at you. I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…’ echoed in your ears, so crystal clear you would have sworn it had happened – but what other evidence did you need that it was just a wild creation of your mind?

Steve didn’t love you. Steve didn’t want you this way. It had never happened. You were still in this closet in the dark, blinded by the light his persona, this time annoyed since the light only hurt your eyes.

And you heart. Your stupid little foolish heart.

“…yeah. Yeah, just a stupid game. Just… so so stupid,” you muttered, no longer talking about the game – and unable to stop the tears from coming anymore.

You laughed bitterly, understanding nothing, but not caring, even more irked at the alarmed expression on Steve’s face when he noticed the few glistening drops rolling down your cheeks.

“Shines… what is it? What can I do to make it better?”

His hands, having been burning a brand onto your biceps, shifted, one caressing your arm, the other rising to your face; and you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the touch, not when it meant less than what you wanted and needed, not when his fingertips brushed your cheek as if it was something precious to him – not when you knew it wasn’t.

You stepped back out of his reach hastily, your back hitting the wall; but not without catching the flash of hurt on his face when you rejected the affection and comfort he was offering.

“I’m sor-“ The words died in your throat, the sudden almost electric shift in the air making your hair stand on end.

As fast as if you snapped your fingers, Steve was no longer looking at you.

In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Steve?”

Your whisper was tentative, but your step forward was not. Heart thundering in your chest, your eyes roamed his suddenly expressionless face. What the hell was happening?

Gulping, you reached out for his hand with yours; but as you squeezed, his hand remained limp by his side.

“Steve, can you hear me?”

Frustration and shame swiftly forgotten, your fingers slid to his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It fluttered under your touch like a hummingbird; but with how fast your own heart was beating, it might have been that you could feel your own.

You went to a completely different place for a moment there, you recalledhis words, real words, right after you found him observing you with concern rather than pulling you to his bare chest after an intense session of fucking.

Whatever had happened to you, be it blamed on alcohol or anything else, was clearly happening to him now. That or you accidentally triggered some kind of a flashback with the way you had reacted. If you had, you’d never forgive it yourself; but you’d have time to feel like an asshole later. Now, Steve needed your help. Fast.

Except you had no idea what was actually taking place in here, let alone how to solve it.

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

You were not going to stay here another second. Not when Steve, sweet kind Steve who deserved the world, was stuck in some strange trance you might have caused.

You were just about to bang on the door of the closet with all your might when a gasp for air had your head snap back to Steve so quickly you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

Your hands were on his arms to steady him before you could think about it twice. Relief flooded your body when his gaze unmistakably found yours, even if he stared at your wide-eyed, clearly rattled by whatever had just happened.

“Shines?” he rasped, blinking a few times as if to adjust his sight to the darkness again, following the lines of your arms to where you were holding onto him with confusion. You swiftly dropped your hands, his frown only deepening at that.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I--- I think so?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the suddenly unreadable emotion in his face made a lump grow in your throat.

“Yeah, the fact that this sounds more like a question than an answer really tells me you were right,” you stated, feeling small as you saw Steve had trouble finding his footing. As his friend, you had the privilege to see him vulnerable more often than the general public, but that didn’t mean the fact he seemed clueless and slightly lost now was still unsettling. “We should get out of here, right now. You were staring blank ahead for at least a minute. You really scared me, Steve.”

His eyebrows shot up as he learned that was what happened.

“I was…? That’s what-- you scared me too. You were staring into space before too... What happened to you in that time?” Steve queried, gently despite obviously being affected himself. “Do you… do you remember any of it?”

You let out a small distressed noise, heat of shame flooding your body all over again.

Yeah, no. You were not going to tell him what exactly happened, regretfully only in your head.

You rarely lied so blatantly, less so to Steve, but these were desperate times. You’d rather keep at last some of your dignity.

You licked your lips. “I… I just zoned out. And then suddenly you were here, asking if I was sure I was okay. You?”

His eyes searched your face for a moment as if he could sense your lie – or at least lack of complete honesty. Yet, he didn’t press, swallowing loudly instead and giving you a shaky smile.

“…yeah. Yeah, same. That was… strange.”

No kidding. You believed him losing consciousness the way he had was strange indeed.

Except when you zoned out, you dreamed of a world where Steve railed you into oblivion while watching you both in a mirror. Until now, you thought that shoving you against a wall and hauling you up in those enormous arms and railing you like that would be more than enough to satisfy your cravings, but apparently you were wrong. But never mind that, right? You could be flexible… flexible enough, in more ways than just one. God knew sex with a man as fit as Steve might require some stretching.

You licked your lips again, mouth feeling dry at the memory. And yet. It wasn’t all a memory. He still was so close, watching so intently. Almost as if… no.

You laughed without a trace of humour.

“Yeah, well, maybe Stark laced the walls with something when he was closing the door-“ your voice trailed off, eyes growing wide as you entertained the wild thought. “Actually, you know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Honestly, it would be a perfectly plausible explanation. In fact, you wanted that to be the explanation; it shifted the blame. You and Tony could share the blame for the inappropriate images still flashing in your mind at least.

Not to mention that theorizing was the most welcomed distraction you could get in the tiny space growing hotter by the minute, full of Steve’s masculine scent seeping into your skin and making your underwear even damper by the second.

“Hm…” Steve hummed, intrigued, his concern melting into outrage. “Loki suggested the game and made the closet. Whatever happened could be on him.”

You frowned at the implication, instinctively protective of the god of mischief; Tony was the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shenanigans using precisely the fact Loki might end up being blamed while he’d laugh his ass off.

“Tony didn’t exactly protest, maybe he just jumped at the chance.”

“Hold on a second… do you think they would team up? To deliver some sort of an advanced Halloween prank?”

Your first instinct was to say no. The thought was absurd. Loki and Tony tolerated each other at best, Tony being one of the people having the hardest time forgiving Loki for the destruction he had once caused… when it suited him. Other times… well.

“I’m…” you hesitated, “I’m not sure, actually. But I know I’m not laughing.” For sure.

Steve face was serious as he observed you, worry creeping into his expression again – you only hoped he forgot all about your earlier outburst, even as you were aware that was very unlikely.

“Can’t say I do. Once we’re out, this game is over.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you agreed instantly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

He seemed a little flushed, a little shell-shocked still. Then again, you imagined you did too. At least you hoped you did; you hoped Steve couldn’t read you like a book… and you hoped Wanda was smart enough not to enter your mind while you were in here.

Oh god, Wanda.

“Yeah… but that’s only cause it’s not a terrible imposition to be here with you of all people,” Steve said lightly, a ghost of a genuine smile curling up his lips, an unvoluntary smirk passing over yours at his choice of words.

“Well, I’m honoured not to be a terrible imposition to you, Captain,” you sassed, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest. “I suppose there are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Such a compliment,” he threw back readily, eyes twinkling. Minutely – and you would swear it – his gaze flickered to your lips.

You heart started racing. You only imagined it. There was no way. Was there? Or…?

“Shines, I… there’s something I think I should tell you,” Steve said slowly, voice turning surprisingly soft.

You blinked, the feeling of déjà-vu hitting you like a train. You had to be dreaming again. There was no way he said those words, not so tenderly, not-

The door opened so suddenly you had to squint against the flood of light; light as harsh as the truth, overtaking all of your senses.

You stumbled out of the tight space with a deep breath, the colder air sobering you up fast.  Whatever Steve was about to say, it didn’t matter; it was probably your mind playing tricks on you again and if it wasn’t, it was probably just words of consolidation he came up with at the spot, an attempt to sooth whatever had bothered you before. Nothing more.

Because whatever you had fantasied about in the closet, it was just that: a fantasy. True, one you weren’t aware you had, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Steve had long moved on from asking you out two years ago. Whatever could have been, you had missed your chance then; he was just being friendly. He tried to offer comfort, because that was what he did. Even when you hurt him by your rejection of it, even when he was rattled himself by whatever he had experienced, he tried to comfort you again what could be two minutes later, because that was what good friends did.

Not a terrible imposition – that was what he said, after all. Even as you knew he probably chose the words on purpose to distract you and amuse you, it was not exactly a declaration of love. There was nothing but friendship between you, not from his side and that meant you would keep it that way unless you were ready to risk it all.

Which was going to be never.

As Steve firmly announced that the game was over, contrary to the booing from several Avengers, you wondered what it would take to rename the stupid activity to Seven Minutes in Hell.

Part 2

Steve Rogers masterlist 

Complete masterlist

Thank you for reading 🥰 I hope you had fun! Leave feedback if you have the energy and time, we love interaction in this house💕

I suppose this is where you could end it, but you won't find the what the heck actually happened and how - and what will happen next 👀 I hope to post part 2 soon since it's almost done 🎃 If you enjoyed and wish to be tagged, let me know :)

Prompt: 7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

Many thanks for Jamie for hosting this challenge and stirring this sleepy fandom to life 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers lemons #steve rogers #captain america #JamiesHalloween2023 #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #seven minutes #anika ann

[estelior]

Some hot shrinkyclinks for you!

Full you can find on my AO3 the link is below

#stucky #stevebucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #shrinkyclinks #my art #lemon art #steve x bucky #otp: till the end of the line

[universitypenguin]

Word Count: 4,977

Warnings: Smut. 18+ readers only. Explicit sexual content. Rough sex. Steve suffers emotional distress. Kidnapping and hostage situation.

Master List

R is for Risk

The atmosphere vibrated with stress. Like the tolling of bells in a provincial town, tension echoed off the walls. Your mind shied away from the metaphor as soon as you thought of it. John Donne’s poem, asking for whom the bell tolled, wasn’t an analogy you wanted to connect with at the moment. It was too close to acknowledging the truth of your predicament and that wasn’t a topic you could mentally cope with right now.

After all, how did a person handle dancing on the edge of death, other than by ignoring it?

Taskmaster turned and tilted his masked head to the side, looking like a very ugly German Shepherd puppy.

“Time’s running out, girl. Better start praying your boyfriend turns up.”

You tilted your chin and met his threat with defiance. Inside, your stomach was churning. But it would be a disaster if Taskmaster knew his effect on you.

He loved seeing terror, but loved knowing that he was causing it even more. You’d clocked the glee in his voice when he’d broken your finger on video for Steve to witness. The wound still ached but had mostly gone numb as the hours counted down.

“How am I going to kill you, my pretty…? It would be more dramatic to leave your face intact, I think. Or perhaps not. I should deny him the sight of such a lovely visage ever again, so he can only remember you the way you were on our last few calls.”

Taskmaster laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “Visage? Have you been reading Jane Austen recently? No. Let me guess. Charlotte Brontë.”

His smirk didn’t budge.

“I find it fascinating that no matter how I threaten you, it doesn’t disturb you as much as when I remind you how terribly this will scar Steve. You’re really in love, aren’t you? I always thought it was his looks. Say, does he actually have an eight pack under those pressed shirts and khakis?”

You sneered. “Are you coming for my boyfriend? He’s taken.”

“Got him all leashed up, huh?”

“There’s no leash. He loves me. I love him - that’s all there is to it.”

Taskmaster’s face moved in a way that suggested he was wrinkling his nose under his mask.

“Have you ever been in love?”

He stiffened, shoulders pulling tight as his arms drew back, bringing his elbows in toward his torso.

Your eyes narrowed.

“A psychopath who’s been in love. Interesting.”

“Shut it, girl.”

Taskmaster swung away and moved to check the cellphone he’d placed on the counter.

A timer had been set right after the first ransom call. The digital clock was ticking down the minutes to your demise. If the Avengers didn’t hand over the vibranium ore stored in Tony’s safe, Taskmaster would kill you. Or to be more precise, his words had been, splatter your brains all over the wall.

“Three minutes left. If he loved you, he wouldn’t cut it so close.”

“If you were in his shoes, and the woman you loved was in mine, would you make this deal? You’re working for Klaus. In his hands that vibranium would put millions of people in danger.”

Taskmaster shrugged. “His money’s green.”

“So is Tony’s. Ask him to pay you more. Ask him for double whatever Klaus is paying you. You’re not stupid. It’s obvious which well runs deeper.”

For a moment, he pinned you with a cold glare that had your heart pulsing with fear. Had you pushed too hard?

Laughter exploded, shaking the man’s frame. He clutched his stomach and threw his head back, reveling as if you’d told the greatest joke ever written.

“You’re good. Really good. I’m impressed, Y/N. They warned me you were clever; but I didn’t think you’d get to me.”

Hope blossomed.

“I’m worth more alive than I am dead, and we both know it.”

The timer screeched its finale. A chorus of blaring horns and raging vibrations broke the tense moment.

Taskmaster clicked his tongue.

“Well, well. Time’s up. The Avengers have run out of chances to save you.”

You considered him, feeling a strange sense of calm that defied logic. In the back of your mind a trampled down instinct screamed at you to panic, but it was too distant to matter.

“I suppose you’re going to kill me and not double your pay. I’d thought you were intelligent. But it’s no matter, since I’ll be dead in… five minutes?”

Taskmaster grinned.

“Your calculations missed a variable. Loyalty. I have a reputation to protect and Klaus is a well connected man. If I double cross him, I’m as good as dead. So yeah. No deal. But I’m not going to enjoy this next part as much as I planned to. You made a good sparring partner, Y/N.”

The sound of your name on his lips sent a chill through your heart.

Fuck. He’s going to do it.

You stiffened as he stepped around the kitchen island, moving towards the living room, where you were cuffed to an armchair. The raw panic you’d thought would overwhelm you didn’t come. Its absence was the most remarkable thing about the whole situation. You were gripped by a cold fear that froze you, but heightened your awareness of everything else.

Taskmaster had taken two steps, his gun raised and movements purposeful, when the world exploded. There was an ear shattering sound, as if a firework had gone off beside you. Glass flew and stung as it sliced your legs. You covered your face and dove for safety beside the barricade of the sofa. Surprisingly, the cuff came loose as the chair tipped over and you jerked your hand free.

Gunshots snapped through the air. You crawled towards the door, away from the flying glass. Hands grabbed your waist, pulling you backwards.

You screamed.

Training with Steve paid off in that moment, when even despite comple terror, your elbow flew back and cracked against your assailant’s jaw. He was momentarily stunned and then seized your waist even harder, his fingers digging until they pinched. You yelped and kicked at him, then remembered to twist your hips for better leverage. Now on your side, you trapped one of his legs between yours and flipped on top of him.

“Y/N, stop! Stop! Hey!”

He blocked your fist with his forearm and pulled off the black ski mask. You gasped at the sight of Steve’s face. He hauled you into his arms and drew you tight against his chest as you tucked your face into his neck.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe now.”

With a shudder, you felt your bravado melt away, and went limp in his grasp.

From behind the couch there was a chuckle. Tony snickered.

“Quite the romantic reunion.”

“Romantic? She nearly knocked out his teeth,” Thor said.

Tony sighed. “Sarcasm isn’t a language you’re ever going to master, is it?”

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

There was a mandatory post hostage crisis interview with SHIELD. Steve protested the exercise, pulling out his “I am the Captain” voice on Maria Hill. You intervened by cutting in and agreeing to the interrogation. While they called it an ‘interview’ everyone knew what it really was. Steve was upset, and took you aside to ask if you were certain you felt up to the task.

Of course, you didn’t, but it was a matter of pride.

You wouldn’t use Steve’s status to get special favors. There was a stubborn desire to prove that, even if Captain America was your boyfriend, you could stand on your own.

You promised you were alright, kissed his cheek, and went with Agent Hill.

After the interview she insisted that medical checked you out. You were exhausted. All you wanted to do was go home but she insisted. Until you went with the nurse, you didn’t realize why.

Steve was waiting outside the exam room when you were done. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face. When he saw you, he straightened. You took what felt like your first full breath in hours when his arm curled around your waist. His jaw was bristled with stubble when he pressed his lips to your forehead. The big hands cupping your face were trembling as he clasped your cheeks.

“She’s all yours, Captain,” Agent Hill said.

Steve didn’t seem to hear. His gaze was fastened on the bruised skin of your neck. The marks had begun to show up during your conversation with Maria. By the time you’d gotten to medical for the check up, they’d sharpened into a clear shape. You wore Taskmaster’s hand print around your neck and would be wearing his marks for weeks.

Rage bubbled in Steve’s crystal eyes. You held still as he brushed the back of his fingers over the painful areas, and gently traced the marks that showed the outline of your attacker’s fingerprints.

He was silent. It coated the air with tension. You waited, but rather than speak, Steve dropped his head and breathed deeply. When he lifted his gaze again the violence had been replaced with his usual calm, steady expression.

The unnatural compartmentalization was unsettling. Steve shared his emotions freely with you. Your relationship had begun as a slow burn, but when Steve chose to be in a relationship, he held nothing in reserve. After more than two years together, you’d seen him fall apart, scream, cry, and laugh himself silly. This was not your Steve. The way he’d shut down his emotions in a single moment… it just wasn’t him.

He led you to the elevator bay and pressed the down button. You wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. From the side of your eye, you watched Steve. He was distant, and not only in terms of the physical space he’d place between you. The composed mask was a hideous disguise on your handsome boyfriend. Emotions you’d had locked down tight were suddenly loosening. You looked up at the dial and willed the descending car to move faster. When you had the inevitable breakdown, you wanted it to be inside the walls of Steve’s apartment. Your hands began to tremble. You shoved them into your cardigan pockets to hide the reaction.

By the time you stepped into the lift, you were trembling from head to toe. Next to you, Steve was lost in abstraction. He wasn’t really there. Knowing this, being able to read him so easily, made his mental distance harder to tolerate. You wavered between asking him for a hug and crawling into the corner to hide. The elevator doors closed and you almost spoke up, needing the comfort of his arms, but Steve retreated to the corner of the car. He leaned, his left hand on the back railing and his right on the side rail. He was locked down.

He’d want to break down behind closed doors, too.

For all his emotional vulnerability, which you greatly admired, Steve liked to keep his rawest emotions private. You mimicked his posture in the other corner. The lift whirled. Your heart started to palpitate.

The lights flickered; that was the only warning. One moment you were in a beam of fluorescence, the next, everything went black.

With a lurch, the elevator stopped.

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

“Damn it,” Steve muttered. He stepped forward and punched the button on the call box. “Hey, we’re stuck. The electricity went out.”

A buzz, then the disembodied voice of Happy Hogan came through the speaker.

“We’re aware. Sorry, Cap. The building took some damage when Taskmaster blew through the lobby. One of our circuits overloaded. It shouldn’t be too long. Tony is on it.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

Steve turned to look at you and jolted when you weren’t there. For a moment he was terrified. Then his gaze dropped and he saw you crumpled on the floor with your head between your knees. He wasn’t sure what to do. There were no tears. Instead, you just sat with your hands clasped behind your neck and your elbows tucked around your head. Silent. He blinked in the low light from the single safety panel that was still lit and saw you were shaking.

He eased down and very cautiously, rested in a squatting position, his hands dangling between his splayed thighs.

“Doll? You okay?”

You didn’t answer and he kicked himself mentally, regretting the stupid question.

“I’m just gonna slide over and sit next to you, alright?”

He sat down and did as he’d said. When he was next to you, Steve was startled as you slumped over from your defensive posture, right into his lap. Your shoulders and back were still curved, but you settled into a modified fetal position, with your hips and legs still on the floor, the rest of your body tucked into his lap.

Steve wrapped his arms around you. His hands were still encased in the fingerless gloves of his sleuth suit. Through the exposed fingertips he could feel how cold your skin was.

“Shit. You’re in shock.”

“No.”

You murmured the single syllable answer, the denial surprisingly strong.

Steve smoothed his hand over your hair.

“Baby, you’re shaking like a leaf. You’re freezing.”

You curled tighter and shuddered as a wave of terror emulated through your body. Steve pulled you all the way into his lap. He was worried by your lack of reaction as he situated you between his spread legs, your back to his front. There was no point in calling back down to Happy. Steve knew Tony was working on the elevator as fast as he could. Triaging what issues he could affect, and which ones he couldn’t, Steve used the mass of his body to surround yours. He peeled off his gloves and laced his fingers through yours, rubbing the skin to warm it. You shuddered again, violently.

He heard the short quick breaths and knew that no matter what you said, this was panic. Maybe even a panic attack. He wasn’t familiar enough to know the exact threshold of what constituted a full blown panic attack, but your gasping inhalations spoke for themselves. Steve clenched his arms around you and held on. You groaned and he saw the corner of your eyes crinkle as he nuzzled your temple. What had been shaking and tremors a minute ago were increasing to convulsions that rattled your entire frame.

“Shhh… It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re safe. We’re in Avengers Tower. You’re safe.”

You were as rigid as a board.

He settled a firm hand on your shoulders and kept a gentle grip. You shuddered and clutched your arms around your knees. He stroked up and down your upper arms. His hands moved down to your elbows and back up, over your shoulders and neck. He didn’t know what to say - so he didn’t say anything. He just kept trying to soothe you with his hands and the shelter of his body.

Slowly, you eased against him and uncurled from your tense position. Steve sighed, quietly, his eyes sliding shut on a wave of relief. You turned to burrow into him as if you could crawl into his suit with him. At the moment, he wished you could.

Then, to his surprise, you grabbed his shoulders and swung your leg over his hips. Steve’s hands automatically moved to your bottom. Out of habit he kneaded the supple flesh. When he realized what he was doing, he froze.

“I’m sorry, doll. I-”

He broke off when he looked up and saw the burning lust reflected in your eyes. His brain short circuited. In a moment, all of the information he’d ever stored in his mind was lost. Steve stared, unfathoming, as your mouth descended onto his. Later, he would reflect that he’d felt like a male spider being hypnotized by its mate.

Your hands went to his utility belt and undid the buckle with quick fingers. Steve hadn’t yet recovered his senses. He was motionless as you undid the snaps covering the zipper of his pants. Lust unfurled in his belly as you slid down the fly and pushed the material apart. The familiar feeling of your hand closing around his dick triggered an instant wave of arousal.

“Ah, fuck…”

The word slipped from his lips, the vulgarity almost going unnoticed, as his brain switched off and his body took over. Steve moaned and thrust into your teasing grip. He moaned as your hand fell away, then grunted approvingly when your lips pressed against his. Steve could still feel the heat of post-mission adrenaline pulsing in his blood. Combined with the pleasure of arousal, it created an intoxicating cocktail in his brain.

“Baby, please,” Steve gasped as you ground yourself over his dick.

“Mmmhh…” your tone was sweet and as viscous as honey.

The sound went straight to his cock.

“Off,” Steve grunted, tugging at the waistband of your skirt.

You continued voraciously attacking his mouth, cheeks, neck, and throat with your lips.

Steve was bubbling with emotions. After days of pent up stress, fear, rage, and despair, he’d thrown himself into your rescue mission. The consequence was that now he was a super soldier teetering on the edge of control. His usual control was slipping away and he just couldn’t hold on to it for another second. Your teeth scraped his jugular and your tongue darted out to soothe the wound with a gentle lick. The sensation went straight to his spine, electrifying every nerve in his body as it traveled down to his groin.

He threw back his head, snarling at the wild pleasure and the mounting frustration of not being inside of you.

You pulled back from the kiss, just enough to speak. Your lips brushed his.

“Fuck me. Please, Steve. I need you so bad.”

That snapped the last thread of his control.

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

He pushed you off his lap, and stood in a graceful movement. You’d almost climbed to your knees when Steve reached down, cinched an arm around your waist, and lifted you. He pivoted to the wall in a whirl and lifted you higher so your legs could wrap around his waist. You clung to him, breathless from the rush of being manhandled against the wall.

Oxygen left your lungs as Steve attacked your neck with the same fervor you’d gone at him with. Your eyes rolled back as he found the spot that made you feel as if every nerve in your skin was on full alert.

“Steve! Oh!”

He growled and rutted against you, only separated by the thin barrier of your panties.

“Fuck me!”

You meant for the words to be a demand, but he rubbed the head of his cock across your clit at the moment you started to speak. You whimpered the command in a hoarse cry of need.

Steve shoved a hand between your bodies, pushed his fingers into the crotch of your panties and ripped. The material was strong and you felt the sting as well-stitched seems dug into your skin. Steve hissed and twisted the material around his hand. You yelped at the snap of elastic, then moaned as the material vanished. The heated flesh of Steve’s arousal finally pressed to your needy core.

He adjusted his grip and lifted you over his erection. Accommodating the broad tip was always the most difficult part of making love to Steve.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d rubbed his thickness in your dripping juices, coating himself just enough, and then buried his dick in your vulnerable sex. The panels of wall behind you bowed, rattling under the force of Steve’s invasion. You cried out and clung to his shoulders as he slammed into you, splitting you open without a shred of finesse. Tears rolled down your cheeks at the harsh burn of him pushing through your folds. The friction should have been unpleasant but the heightened tension made it feel different. Your pussy rippled and juices flooded your channel to ease his entry. Steve moaned against your ear. That noise reverberated through your body and echoed in your heart. This was exactly what you needed.

You tossed your head and rocked against him o aid the difficult joining of your bodies. Steve gave a low grunt and cinched his arms around your hips. You gasped when he lifted you and thrust up at the same time he let go. You shrieked at the abrupt invasion of him in the deepest parts of your body. The wetness eased the burn as your pussy accepted every inch.

Steve grunted and you felt the coolness of the elevator panel on your back again as he pinned you against the wall.

“That’s it, baby. That’s what I want. What I need. You feel like heaven.”

Your pussy clenched and he gasped.

“Fuck. Fuck! I’m… I need…”

You stroked your hands over his trembling muscles and nuzzled his jaw.

“S’okay,” you said. “Please. I need it too.”

He shivered. Then his eyes turned dark, so only a tiny ring of blue remained around his pupils. You clung tightly as he left control behind and simply unraveled. It was impossible to keep up with him as he pounded out all the frustration, terror, and pain he’d felt over the past few days into your body. Your legs shook from the depth of his cock and the angle of his pelvis as he hammered into you with abandon. Pleasure swamped you, radiating out from your core, extending deeper and further with every brutal thrust of Steve’s hips.

“Aaahhh!”

The tension snapped without warning and you screamed in ecstasy as the climax erupted. Your vision went black and your heart felt as if it was about to explode. The orgasm destroyed your senses and ripped your muscles apart in spams of ecstasy more powerful than anything you’d ever experienced.

Steve didn’t seem to realize you were in orgasmic bliss as his thrusts continued in the exact same rhythm. You choked on an exclamation, so lost in the throes of your own release that you couldn’t speak. Steve growled and his hands tightened on your hips.

“Hold still, baby girl. Fuck. Aw… fucking hell!”

His head dropped to your chest and his panted breath warmed your decolletage as he rutted even harder. You croaked out what should have been a wail, if you’d had the air to make such a sound. You couldn’t get enough breath for a proper scream. Steve rolled his hips and the slight change of angle ground your clit against his pubic bone. A second orgasm slammed into you, shattering all sense of self and stripping you until the only thing you knew was the endless pleasure rippling through your muscles and sizzling along your nerves. The orgasm went on, and on, flooding your eyes with tears and finally bringing air into your lungs. You sobbed. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful. Your pussy didn’t flutter - it seized with the violence of a climax you hadn’t imagined yourself capable of.

Steve’s tongue curled around your nipple before his lips closed to suck the tender bud with enthusiasm. You screamed and arched, bucking with the sudden flash of pleasure that blazed through you. In the haze of climax, you hadn’t even noticed when he’d tugged down your shirt and pushed aside the cup of your bra.

He was still thrusting. You felt the warmth of his release and knew he’d already come, perhaps several times. The release didn’t seem to matter. You remained trapped between the pleasure demon feasting on your breast, and the metal panel of the elevator wall. It shook from the force of Steve’s body pounding into yours. The deep angle was nudging a little spot you hadn’t known about before today. It was somewhere in the very back of your pussy and his thrusts seemed to strike it at just the right angle to make your bones turn liquid. Your muscles went slack as the next orgasm came. You whimpered, then it stuck. This time your muscles shook and your body trembled but there was no wild thrashing - you were nearly limp from exhaustion.

Steve groaned. You felt the warmth of his release. He shuddered and you felt the signs that he was finally slowing. Unexpectedly, he reached between your legs and stroked your clit. The rumble of his voice was reassuring, but you couldn’t hear the words, as your body shuddered through a climax that hit like a sucker punch. You clawed at the material of Steve’s uniform, lost in the pleasurable agony of the last orgasm being ripped from your body.

The world fell away. Steve’s arms holding you tight were all you could feel as blackness descended.

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

“Come on. Come back, sweetheart. Open your eyes.”

You turned away from the fingers gently stroking your cheek. You felt like your eyelids were weighted down.

“That’s it. There she is.”

The crooning voice interrupted your peaceful cocoon of sleep.

“Honey. Open your eyes.”

This time the voice was commanding. Your eyes flickered, but fell closed. A hand grasped your chin and white light glowed behind your closed lids.

“Come back to me.”

The sternness was nowhere to be found now. The voice had an edge of fear in it. Your eyes opened to the blurry sight of a figure leaning over you. Your arms were warm. Looking down, you saw Steve had draped your sweater over you like a blanket. You were in his lap, curled into his chest, with his arms cradling your back and knees.

You struggled for words and realized that your tongue was thick and your mouth was dry.

“Shhh…” Steve murmured.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and nuzzled your temple.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m sorry. They’re going to be done fixing the elevator in a minute.”

That sounded really good. You nodded and relaxed into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder.

“That’s it. Go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

The fierce note in his voice nearly permeated the fog over your brain but you were so exhausted that you couldn’t push back the urge of sleep.

An unknown length of time passed before a jolt of the elevator car started you into awareness. You bolted upright and were only saved from hitting your head on the railing by Steve’s grip on your waist.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re going to get out of here. I’ve got you.”

The words circulated in your brain, only half absorbed, as you struggled up from the depths of a sleep cycle.

“How long…?”

“Ninety minutes.”

Steve’s voice sounded odd. You looked at him and saw the worried knit of his brow, and the tension in his shoulders.

“Steve,” you mumbled through a sore throat.

The word came out scratchy. His eyes dropped and he looked as if he’d been slapped. Then the pitiful look disappeared behind a composed mask.

“I’m going to take you back to medical, sweetheart. They need to check you out again.”

“No.”

“Don’t argue,” Steve said.

You shook your head and burrowed into his arms.

“Not…going…”

A heavy sigh, followed by a gentle squeeze of Steve’s arms, let you know you’d won as the elevator began to move again.

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

The next time you woke up it was sunny.

Light streamed through the window and you were surprised to find that you were the only occupant of the King sized bed you usually shared with Steve.

Shoving down the covers, you stood on shaky knees to make your way to the living room.

Steve didn’t look up when you came in. He was so still that it took a second for you to notice him. He had the lights off and the curtains drawn. A feeling of dread washed over you. Dawn was Steve’s favorite time of day. Unless he was seriously injured, or sick, he never missed a chance to sit with his coffee and enjoy the sunrise.

You stepped towards him and he startled, his head whipping around.

“Steve?”

He blinked, his lashes fluttering with surprise.

You could sense anxiety but couldn’t understand the reason for it. Seeing Steve’s emotions so plainly written on his face triggered yours. You climbed onto the sofa next to him, curling your feet underneath your legs.

“Are you okay?” His voice was raspy.

Your eyes settled on the end table where two empty bottles of blueberry bourbon sat.

“Yeah. Are you?”

His head tipped back. “No.”

You reached for him, but he pulled away. Miffed by the rejection you stared as Steve slid to the corner of the sofa.

“What? What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Steve blinked, his eyebrows drawing down as his jaw clenched.

“For what?” He said, repeating your question with a sharp sting of bitterness that made you flinch.

You were at a loss for words.

“Steve…”

What did you do? What does one say when they don’t understand the root of the problem? You could read the obvious signals that he didn’t want to be touched, but decided to ignore them.

There were a few things you knew about your boyfriend. One of them was that, while his main love language was quality time, when he was upset his love language became physical touch. Steve shifted away, but you pretended not to notice as you wrapped yourself around him and snuggled up with your head on his shoulder.

“Talk to me. Please, Steve.”

He grunted.

“I apologize. For how I treated you today. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. All I can tell you is that it will never happen again.”

You turned your face up, ready to protest, but Steve laid a finger over your lips. His expression was stern and set with determination.

“It. Will. Never. Happen. Again.”

- - - - - - - - -

Master List

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers alphabet #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america lemon #captain america smut #captain america x fem!reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #18+ only #minors dni #no minors #smut fanfiction #chris evans charaters

[fanfic-scribbles]

Digestifs: Chapter Four (Excerpt)

I don’t like posting 18+ stuff to Tumblr, so here’s a snippet of Digestif’s fourth chapter. And here’s a link to the full piece on AO3.

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Steve Rogers and his girlfriend may not always know what they’re doing, but they’re willing to work it out. Together. It’s just more fun that way.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Chapter Four: Comfort – Steve wakes up from a bad dream, and needs to know everything’s okay. He’s very…hands-on about it.

Excerpt:

~

I woke to sudden movement and a sharp sound I couldn’t immediately identify. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings, but once the fog of sleep faded a bit, I realized it was the middle of the night and Steve was sitting straight up and looking around.

That jumpstarted me to full consciousness. “Steve?” I asked and looked around, but I could see and hear nothing aside from him, shaking a bit and taking short, jagged gasps of air. He didn’t immediately move either, so I took the chance to flick on my bedside light and my heart settled somewhat when I saw awareness just barely coming back into his eyes. He took a little more time to look around the room, tilting his head as if to listen for a threat, and then he finally took a deep, if shaky, inhale. It didn’t help the rhythm of his breathing all that much though, and he remained on alert.

“Hey,” I said and when he looked at me his eyes widened somewhat as he looked me up and down. “It’s okay; we were sleeping and you just woke up. I’m okay and there’s no one here.” He blinked a few times and rubbed his face. “Nightmare?” I asked gently and tried to touch his shoulder, but he shivered and I took my hand back.

“Yeah,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and looked at me again, like I was hiding an injury he just couldn’t see but was surely there. It must have been a real bad dream. Normally he snapped to faster than this, but though he was clearly awake, he still looked mentally trapped in the mire of whatever dream-him had been going through. Or helplessly witnessing. “I’m sorry, I–…can I…”

He tried for a few more words and failed. His hands opened and shut towards me and he looked so distressed I opened my arms in invitation.

~

(Read More Here)

#lemon #digestifs excerpt #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x ofc

[swtki]

Hey all! I’m opening up requests to help me out of a writing slump!

Please send me requests, these are the guidelines I have:

My readers are ALWAYS inclusive 100% in fluff, this means GN, race neutral, and size neutral.

My smuts are inclusive to all Fems, meaning I only use she/her pronouns and afab anatomy, however race, and size are neutral.

I will be creating a rec post for Trans! readers, black! readers, cis male readers, any type of specific reader soon <3

Characters I will write for:

-Loki Laufeyson

-Bucky Barnes

- Steve Rogers

- TASM! Peter Parker

- Spencer Reid

Please do not ask for any other characters or any ships other than x reader.

Things I will write:

-smut (fem dom or vanilla)

-fluff (any and all)

-angst (past trauma, current trauma, breakups and heartbreak)

-dark fics (stalking, perv)

start sending them babes !

#elitalksshit #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker fanfic #peter parker smut #loki x reader #loki fic #loki oneshot #loki laufeyson smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes lemon #bucky barnes smut #sub steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #sub spencer reid #mcu songfic #tasm #fanfic #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #avengers fanfix #avengers x fem!reader #avengers loki x reader #the avengers x you #the avengers smut #avengers x reader

[leisurelypanda]

Terms and Conditions

Steve is a senior in college finishing up his college career by starting a year long internship with Odinson International, an up-and-coming Fortune 500 company. Everything is going great... except that he's late for his first day. Just as Steve is trying to make a good impression for the head of the company, he finds himself in a sticky situation. But Thor apparently has some plans up his sleeve.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39506415

Pairing: CEO Thor x Intern Steve Rogers

Tags: Dom/sub, spanking, pet play, humiliation, dirty talk, anal sex, semi-public sex, size difference, size kink. 

Word Count: 4.5k

The first day. It was the first day of Steve’s new internship. He tried desperately to keep that thought out of his mind as he dashed up the stairs of his metro stop to get to the building where he was supposed to have been 15 minutes ago. Excuses ran through his mind. The metro was late. There was a crowd. Tourists got in the way. Anything that would sound plausible to his new boss to make him not fire Steve on the spot. 

Odinson International. Steve couldn’t believe it when he got the internship. It was the big break of his college career. He had applied just because he admired the construction they did and because they only ever took 3 interns a year. Many of them would go on to have permanent jobs afterwards. It was just his luck that his crappy phone decided to die in the middle of the night even when he plugged it in.

He came up on the skyscraper where the business was stationed. He didn't even take the time to look up at the architecture like he did when he came for the interview. He had no time. With barely a breath in his lungs, he bolted into the building through a revolving door and raced to the set of elevators on the far side of the building where it would take him up to corporate headquarters.

A tall woman with warm, olive skin and long black hair tied back into braids held the door for him. She smiled sympathetically at him as he bent over to catch his breath. The elevator was thankfully not full. Only the two of them were in it as it closed. 

"Rough morning?" she asked.

"Yeah," Steve gasped out. He gulped for air gracefully like a goldfish on dry land. "First day."

"What department?" she asked.

"Engineering," Steve said as he righted himself. He was sweating, but all that mattered was that he was there. Maybe there was still a chance he could make up for this.

"You one of the new interns they took on?" she asked.

"That's me," Steve said. He grimaced. 

"Well, good luck, I'm rooting for you," she said. She held out her hand. "Valkyrie. No, it's not my real name, but if you ever find out, I'll have to kill you."

"Steve Rogers," he said as he shook it. She had a firm grip.

"I wouldn't worry, Steve," she said. "The boss is pretty laid back."

Steve tried to find some hope in that, even though his heart was still racing. His mother would have a fit if she knew. She always made sure he was exempt from gym class because of his asthma as a kid. She would be practically forcing his inhaler into his mouth if she was there. Thank God she wasn't. 

Steve watched as the elevator approached his floor. With each floor he passed, his heart hammered harder and harder. The door stopped on the 71st floor and Valkyrie stepped aside. 

"This is you," she said. "Good luck on your first day."

"Thanks," Steve said as he stepped out. He straightened his tie and took a deep breath before he walked on. 

The office was well laid out. It was spacious and had a relaxed but productive atmosphere, not like the oppressive, monotonous corporations that made their workers sit in cubicles. This was his first time working in such a high-end business office. Not hired, not yet, but his first time working as someone who would assist with a real role in a project. And he was late.

He tried not to think about that as he hefted his box of office materials. He made his way to the department manager, who directed him to the office he would use. It was… almost too nice. Small, but nice. The desk was made of oak and was just big enough to fit a monitor and any papers and designs he would be working on. There was also a small bookshelf that held various books that looked like they were left by previous interns. One side of the office looked down at the city below while another looked out into the larger office space. The furniture in the room was warm brown, the walls a relaxing cream, and floors were made of wood rather than cold stone. All in all, it was downright inviting.

Steve set his box on the desk and sighed. Inside were all his usual office supplies. A couple plants that he kept, some desk knick-knacks, and decorations to help his office seem more hospitable than he was expecting it to be. An office like this needed something that matched the atmosphere. Professional, but comfortable. Unfortunately, he was dead broke, so this was about all he’d be able to put in here. 

Steve was just setting his marketing books and decorations up when there was a knock at his door. He turned around to see a tall, broad blond man at the door with a smirk on his face. Thor Odinson. Owner, inheritor, and CEO of Odinson International. He was dressed impeccably. A tan suit and pants with robin egg blue button down shirt with two buttons undone radiated the exact vibe the rest of the company had. Dazzling blue eyes sparkled as he looked down at Steve and approached. 

He was, in short, the man of Steve’s dreams. Nearly a foot taller than him, strong, and gorgeous, too. The fact that Steve was going to be working for him was an unfortunate issue, but maybe that wouldn’t turn out to be a problem. The man was amazing and there was no sign at all of a wedding ring. 

"Hear you had some trouble getting here today," he said.

Fuck, Steve thought. "Yes, I had some issues with the subway, sir."

"Please, call me Thor. No one calls me sir unless they're kissing up to me," Thor replied. Instead of a handshake, he embraced Steve and kissed him once on each cheek. Steve pulled away feeling very hot again and with his heart racing for a whole new reason. 

"Uh, yeah, well, thanks for being understanding, Thor," Steve said. "I promise I won't make a habit of being late."

"I do appreciate that," Thor said. "I try to be relaxed, but punctuality is an important part of running a business."

"Yes, I agree," Steve said. 

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Thor said with a smile that could have blinded Steve. His heart fluttered again and Steve wondered how exactly he was going to make it through the day. "I'll see you later. The architecture team has a meeting with me at 3:00."

Steve wrote the time down, but before he could ask Thor where the meeting would be, he was gone. Steve sighed and decided to get set up on the computer. He was already late and he needed to get his introductory training done as soon as possible so he could get started on real work.

The problem with starting a new job, Steve always found, was figuring out where everything happened. Usually, it was pretty straightforward. Coffee shops were obvious. Restaurants were self-explanatory. White collar office jobs were not always the case, apparently. 

He had assumed that the architecture team meeting would be located in the meeting room in their department. He arrived 5 minutes early to the meeting to make sure that he was on time. 20 minutes later, an office assistant arrived and kindly informed him that the meeting was in Thor’s office, not this room. 

Steve raced out of the room as fast as his skinny legs could carry him. He ran to the elevator and took it up to the top floor where Thor’s office was. When he arrived, he stepped out as calmly as he could manage and walked towards the meeting room with the directions the office assistant gave him. 

It didn’t take too long. The window to the meeting room was a single, enormous sheet of glass. What was inside, however, made Steve’s heart sink. The architects were getting up and starting to gather their belongings. Steve opened the door and stepped inside before he could think better of it. 

“Ah, Steven, we were wondering where you were,” Thor said. 

“Yes,” Steve said. “Sorry, I was confused about where the meeting was taking place.”

“I understand,” Thor said. “Why don’t you come in and I’ll catch you up on what you missed?” 

Steve sat down gratefully at the table. The rest filed out. Steve had met most of them already at the morning meeting, which he had arrived on time for. They all seemed like intelligent, hard working people. He hated the idea that he would fall short in their eyes, especially on his first day. 

Thor drummed his fingers on the table for a minute before he got up. Everyone was gone and his private office floor was the height in luxury and comfort. And privacy. He didn’t even have assistants buzzing around. Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat as Thor approached the window. 

“You know,” Thor said as he faced the window with his hands clasped behind his back. “When Natasha told me about the young business intern she hired, I found myself excited. I envisioned a diligent and talented young man who would bring a fresh perspective to my company’s approach to design.” 

Thor touched a dial on the window and it dimmed. It was only a slight change, but Steve suddenly grew nervous. His heart was racing. His leg began to thump as he watched Thor from his seat on the other side of the room. 

“I… apologize for the confusion, Thor,” Steve said. 

“Do you?” Thor asked. He turned and began to walk over to Steve. Steve sat back in the chair just as Thor sat next to him on the table. “You were late for work this morning. You missed the meeting I told you about. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Steve felt his face begin to heat up. All he could focus on was how strong and thick Thor’s fingers looked, how well he filled out the suit he wore. Every strand of hair was in place. His piercing blue eyes seemed to assess every inch of Steve. Steve himself suddenly felt under prepared and underdressed. Thor reached out and started to brush down Steve’s clothes. 

“You know where I come from, it is considered extremely rude to be late,” Thor said. “Much like the United States and Britain. Punctuality is highly valued because time is a precious resource.” 

“Yes, I understand, Thor,” Steve said. 

“You see, I’m not sure that you do,” Thor said. His hands went to Steve’s neck to straighten his tie. As he did, his fingers brushed against Steve’s neck. Steve felt his heart skip a beat as he felt Thor’s callused fingers brush against his soft skin. “I think you need some… individual training.” 

“Thor?” Steve said. He looked up into Thor’s eyes. This morning they sparkled so brightly. Now, they were dark with lust. 

“I think you should call me Sir now,” Thor said. His voice was low and dark, like hot molasses dripping onto Steve’s skin. 

“Fuck,” Steve breahted. “Y-Yes, Sir.” 

“Good boy,” Thor murmured. He pressed a thumb against Steve’s lips and traced them with a delicate touch. Steve’s breath hitched and he tried to open his mouth and lick the digit.

“Not yet,” Thor said. “You haven’t proven that you can be good yet.” 

Steve whined and Thor smiled down at him. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees?” Thor said. 

Steve slid off the chair and down to his knees in one fluid motion. He’d been here before. Other one night stands who all acted dominant. Some even seemed good at the part. None of them, not one, was as effortlessly attractive and dominant as Thor was. Was he even trying or did it just come to him as naturally as breathing? That’s what it seemed like. 

“Hands behind your back,” Thor said. Steve obeyed and crossed his arms at the wrist in a classic submissive pose. “Well, you seem submissive enough, that’s for sure.” 

“Thank you, Sir,” Steve said. 

Thor just hummed and dangled his foot slightly. It nudged Steve’s stomach, but since Steve wasn’t sure if that meant he should get up, he stayed where he was. This was apparently the correct response, as Thor hummed in approval. He took Steve’s chin in a big hand and stroked a thumb down his jawline before turning Steve’s head from side to side. 

“My, but you are a pretty one,” Thor said. The sound was practically a purr. “I think I’ll make you my pet.” 

“Sir?” Steve asked. 

“Yes, I think I will make you my kitten,” Thor said. “Someone as unruly as you is sure to be an entertaining pet to have.” 

Somehow, those words went straight to Steve’s dick. It strained against his slacks. His entire body vibrated with need and urgency, the desire to suck Thor’s cock or be fucked by him. The image of him laying on Thor’s couch, all curled up, or sitting at his feet with a collar around his neck filled his head, though. 

“You’re not listening, kitten,” Thor said. Steve blinked and realized that Thor had asked him a question. He racked his brain, trying to think of what Thor asked him about. Thor sighed. “You will find that I am not lenient with punishment, my pet. If you make me repeat myself, I will have to punish you.” 

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Steve’s neck along his spine. Steve made himself look up at Thor, even as his knees began to ache from kneeling directly on the floor. Thor must have noticed his discomfort, because he tapped one of Steve’s knees with a foot. 

“Answer my question, and I’ll let you stand up,” he said. Steve tried and tried to think, but he finally gave up and shook his head. “Pity.” 

Thor chuckled lowly and stood. He towered over Steve’s kneeling body. Steve tried to look Thor in the eyes, but all he could see was the prominent bulge in Thor’s pants. It was downright massive and so tantalizingly close to Steve’s face. However, before Steve could revel in its beauty, Thor bent down and seized a fistful of Steve’s hair. He pulled it back roughly and Steve hissed in pain. 

“I’m going to spank you,” Thor murmured. “Right here, where anyone who walks by can see. They’ll see how bad you are, how useless and pathetic.” 

Steve felt like he might combust at any moment or melt into a puddle of shame. Thor paused, though, looking down at Steve. There was a silent question in his eyes. Steve nodded slightly, and Thor hauled him up onto his feet and bent him over the table facing the window. Outside, not a soul stirred. There was no click of heels against the hardwood floor, no echo of voices down the hall. No sound… except for the clink of Thor’s belt buckle. As that tiny sound reached Steve’s ears, it reverberated through Steve’s body. His skin erupted in gooseflesh as Thor pulled Steve’s pants down, exposing his ass. 

“This is even more beautiful up close,” Thor said. “I can’t wait to see how red I can make it.” 

Steve swallowed hard. Thor pulled Steve’s shirt up and over his head before he tossed it on the table. Utterly naked and exposed, Steve just looked out the window, hoping against hope that no one would come. His cock twitched eagerly, though, at the thought of someone finding him like this, of them knowing that he was the boss’s plaything. Thor grabbed the handful of Steve’s hair again and pulled slightly. 

“I won’t bother asking you to count,” Thor said. “You’re so dumb, I doubt you could manage it.” 

“Yes, Sir,” Steve said. 

“Ready?” Thor asked. Steve took a deep breath and nodded. Without further prompting, Thor brought his belt down on Steve’s ass. It was not a gentle strike, but rough, and it stung like a motherfucker. Steve yelped and didn’t realize how loud he was until it was out of his mouth. He clapped a hand over his mouth just as Thor brought the belt back down on him. 

“My, but I wasn’t expecting that,” Thor said. “It’s like you want to tell everyone on this floor what’s happening to you.” 

“Sir,” Steve gasped. His hand was still on his mouth, though, and the sound was muffled. 

“Take your hand off so I can hear you properly, kitten,” Thor whispered into Steve’s ear. Steve groaned as he obeyed. 

“Sir, I-I, I-I don’t know,” Steve said. This was ridiculous. Two spanks and he was already coming undone. Was he really so easy?

“Of course you don’t,” Thor said. “It was a silly question for me to ask you.” 

With that, he brought the belt down on Steve’s ass again. It was just as hard as before, but Steve still yelped with the pain. He moved to cover his mouth again, but Thor pulled his head back a little farther. 

“Leave it,” he said. “Let them hear, whoever they are.” 

Steve nodded and Thor slackened his grip on Steve’s hair. He didn’t let go completely, though. Steve wasn’t sure he wanted Thor to let go, either. The belt landed harder on Steve’s ass this time and Steve cried out. He’d been spanked. There was a guy he met named Chad (yeah, gross, but he was desperate at the time) who spanked him a few months ago. It was… underwhelming. Steve walked away and decided it wasn’t for him. 

This, however, made him feel like he was glowing. His pain made him feel on fire in the most incredible way he never knew was possible. His head stung from Thor’s firm grip in a way Steve never knew he could ever enjoy. He felt alive for the first time in his life and like he was dying of pleasure. It was euphoria and torture and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

By the time Thor landed the last strike, Steve had tears running down his face. Thor flipped him over onto his back and wiped away a stream of tears with one of his thumbs. 

“Beautiful,” Thor said. His eyes were near black. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Steve murmured. His brain felt hazy, like he was looking out into a foggy morning, except that he also was talking through something warm and fuzzy. 

“I want you to be mine,” Thor said. “I want to own you, kitten.” 

“Okay,” Steve said. 

“Don’t answer now,” Thor said. “Just lay back and take your reward.” 

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. Thor unzipped his pants and Steve just looked out the windows. No one walked past, even now. He heard the sound of Thor lubing up his cock. Steve reached towards his own cock with his right hand and began to stroke it lazily. He heard Thor chuckle. 

“So impertinent,” he murmured. “You’ll be a good kitten for me.” 

With that, Thor leaned over the desk and kissed Steve. It was gentle, but firm, claiming. Steve kissed back and yielded readily when Thor pushed his tongue into Steve’s mouth. A moment later, Steve felt a large, thick length nudge against his entrance. Thor pushed it in ever so slowly. It burned. It burned like the sun and Steve couldn’t get enough of it. Thor was massive, easily bigger than any other man Steve had slept with in the few years he’d been sexually active. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Steve breathed. “Is that… gonna fit?” 

“It’ll fit, my kitten,” Thor murmured. His voice dripped with amusement. “I’ll make it fit.” 

Steve whimpered, but he nodded and Thor slowly pressed another thick inch into him. Steve let his head fall back onto the table. Thor captured his throat and sucked on the side, near Steve’s collarbone. Stars flickered to life in Steve’s vision. The feeling of Thor’s body over him, of Thor’s cock inside him, of Thor’s mouth on his neck, of Thor’s hands gripping his body… it all overwhelmed him. Steve was a glass vessel shattered into a million tiny pieces. 

After several long minutes, Thor bottomed out. Steve was pretty sure he could feel this man in his stomach or something. He was huge, but Steve didn’t want him to ever pull out. 

“You feel… incredible,” Thor groaned. 

“You, too, Sir,” Steve breathed. He gripped Thor’s arms. He still wore his shirt, though at some point his jacket had been discarded. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbow, exposing strong, corded forearms rippling with muscle and strength. 

After several minutes that felt like a short eternity, Thor began to rock into Steve’s body. With each thrust into him, Steve was sure he could see the stars again. Each movement caused Thor’s thick cock to graze against Steve’s prostate. Steve didn’t care what happened after this. He would crawl over hot coals just to taste this man’s cock again. 

“God, Sir, how are you so big?” Steve asked after a particularly sharp thrust almost made him cum. 

“Good genes, I suppose,” Thor said with a smirk. “How did you end up so tight? You’re not a virgin, are you?” 

“Nope,” Steve replied. He made his lips pop with the word. “Just good genes.” 

“I’ll look forward to popping your cherry every day, then,” Thor said. 

He gripped Steve’s hips hard enough to bruise as he quickened his pace. His hips smacked against Steve’s in a quick rhythm. Steve gripped Thor’s forearms harder, then reached up to wrap his hands around Thor’s neck. His silky hair teased Steve’s fingers and Thor groaned as Steve dug his fingers into the meat of Thor’s shoulders. 

Steve had no idea how long it lasted, how long it was before Thor’s deep, long thrusts became short and frantic as he chased his pleasure with Steve’s body. Steve had no idea when he started pumping his cock with equal desperation, before Thor batted his hand away and wrapped his bigger, rougher hand around Steve’s shaft. Steve only knew the moment when Thor came with a shout and hot, thick cum shot into Steve’s waiting body. A few minutes later, Thor brought Steve over the edge and Steve was sure that he saw stars. 

Steve let his body hang limp in Thor’s arms. They breathed together for a few minutes. Then, Thor straightened himself. Steve whined as Thor’s cock slipped out of him, but he didn’t complain much as Thor used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off Steve’s body. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Then, Thor helped Steve dress in silence before he straightened himself up. 

“Come to my office,” Thor said. 

“Why?” Steve asked. 

“That was intense for you,” Thor said. “I want to make sure you’re okay before you go.” 

“Oh. Okay,” Steve said. He wasn’t sure what else to say to that. “Do you… think anyone saw us?” 

“Unlikely,” Thor said. “I tinted the windows before we started. For privacy.” 

Steve blinked. “You what?” 

“The windows tint on the outside,” Thor said. He pointed over to the panel next to the windows in the room. “They’re controlled from inside, though.” 

“So all that about people watching us…” 

“Was an act,” Thor said with a mischievous smirk. “Did you enjoy it? The thrill of the thought of being caught?” 

Steve blushed and looked away. It was apparently enough for Thor to know how Steve felt about it. Thor chuckled as he opened the door. 

“So what happens now?” Steve asked quietly as they walked to Thor’s office. 

“I meant what I said,” Thor said. “I want you. If you agree, I can have you transferred to work directly under me instead of in architecture.” 

“Really?” Steve asked. It was… unexpected. It would be good, even if it didn’t work out long term. Working with a Fortune 500 businessman would be fantastic… and the sex would be even better. 

“Don’t answer now,” Thor said. “But if you like, I will send you the details later today for you to peruse.” 

“How long do I have?” Steve asked. 

“Well, let us say until the end of the week,” Thor said with a smile. “Though I hope the taste you received of what you could have is enough to persuade you.” 

Steve smiled even as his heart was still beating a mile a minute. Thor opened the door to his private office and inside was the most outrageously ridiculous office Steve had ever seen. Long, red, plush couches with thick, patterned throw pillows flanked a dark, mahogany coffee table. The cream walls were covered in pictures and decorations, trimmed in gold and blue. The room was decorated with warm colors and Steve immediately felt both comfortable. 

He immediately fell onto a couch that was every bit as comfortable as it looked and decided that, whatever it was Thor wanted from him, he was willing to give. 

That evening as Steve returned to his disappointingly mediocre apartment that he shared with his friends Peter Parker, Bucky, and Sam, Steve felt like he had returned to earth. Bucky and Sam were at each other’s throats again over Super Smash. Peter was likely in his room doing homework. Steve slumped into a chair that creaked as he sat down. 

He pulled out his laptop and checked his emails. He didn’t have many classes this semester, but he did have some. He intended to spend as much time at the internship as he could so he could learn everything he could absorb. First in his inbox, though, sent as soon as Steve had left Odinson International, was an email from Thor. The subject line was “Terms and Conditions.” 

Steve sighed as he opened the email. It was probably some bullshit automatic email he got from the company. He was surprised, though, to find that this email wasn’t from Thor’s work email. It was from a personal one, and the first word on the document was… “Kitten.” He smiled. 

“Hey Stevie, what happened today?” Bucky called over as Sam howled in defeat. Steve knew that Bucky would be adding another tally to their running list of wins and losses. Currently, Bucky was up by about 4. “Did you find a sugar daddy?” 

Steve smiled as he read the document. A contract, he realized, to be Thor’s kitten. A sub. Sure enough, there was a provision that Thor would provide Steve with certain benefits, even in the event that their relationship should end. 

I think I have, Steve thought. 

#thundershield #lemons #thor x steve rogers #ceo!thor #intern!steve rogers #pre-serum steve #fanfic #my work

[descaladumidera]

Daredevil/Matt Murdock Headcanons and Prompts I've Accumulated Over Time

1. Matt and Foggy Are Childhood Friends

Imagine Foggy and Matt are childhood friends, even before the accident. And the Nelsons take Matt in after Jack died, but not before Stick could train Matt (because reasons). And Matt trusts Foggy immediately with his secret and they get into so much trouble together. And then Matt starts to fight crime and Foggy always has his back.

2. Matt Is a Sucker for Buzzed Hair

Matt likes to touch Frank's hair after he shaved it to a few mm, because he likes the sensation.

3. Jack Comes Back for Five Minutes

Okay, so. There is a comic where Doctor Strange brings Uncle Ben back for Peter for five minutes and I. I just thought about … What if he did it for Matt with Jack? And my heart hurts so much. And Jack just knows what Matt has been doing all these years and Matt thinks that he will be so disappointed with him, but Jack smiles and says, "I'm proud of you, Matty. So proud."

4. Steve Rogers Adopts Matt

I need to fudge the timeline considerably, but I just. Want Jack and Steve Rogers to know each other. Like, Steve is a fan of boxing, but he is also an old soul at heart, so he'd rather watch fights like Jack's, instead of the upscale ones that rich people attend. Even though he could easily get tickets for those, because he is, well, Captain America. But he chooses to watch Jack's matches instead and they become friends and he meets ickle Matt at one point. And Matt is a big Cap fan (and Jack respects the hell out of Steve for what he did back in the day, so there's that). And when Matt goes blind, Steve does everything he can to help Jack and Matt, because Jack is his friend. But Jack is too proud and refuses the help, so Steve sticks to making sure that Matt gets Braille books and as many accommodations as he can muster without treating Jack and Matt as a charity case. And then Jack dies and Steve's heart hurts for Matt, so he takes him in.

5. Jack's Aftershave

The only thing Matt kept of his dad, apart from the boxing regalia, is an already opened bottle of aftershave. He fears the day the smell will fade.

6. Matt/May With May Stealing Matt's Hoodies

May steals Matt's hoodies, because they are so soft. And then they end up in Peter's cabinet, because he, too, has heightened senses and wants soft clothes. But they can't afford it. Matt picks up on that and makes sure that May and Peter always have soft clothes around.

7. Matt and Karen Make-Up Sessions

Whenever Matt's face gets beaten up, he calls Karen, and they both come to the office earlier, so she can mask his injuries with make-up.

8. Matt Stealing Foggy's Hoodie

Matt didn't own his own Columbia sweater. He stole Foggy's once it was worn soft enough for Matt to feel comfortable with his hypersensitive touch.

9. Matt and Interactive Pools

Matt finds out that he loves to go to the aquarium. All the glass and water dulls his senses, which is not great, but he delights in using the interactive pools, so he gladly endures the things he doesn't like.

10. Foggy Being the Best

Foggy got Matt his first red glasses.

11. Matt Being a Masochist

Sometimes Matt lets himself get hit more than necessary on purpose, because he thinks he deserves the pain.

12. Matt-Foggy-Karen-Shenanigans

After the thing with Fisk and Dex Karen, Foggy, and Matt rebuild their firm. And one of the conditions is team-building night at Josie's at least once a month ("So no daredeviling, Matt!"). They get absolutely shitfaced and usually end all up at Matt's apartment, in Matt's bed, just cuddling, because they're cuddly drunks. And then they fall asleep. When they drink the eel, though, they'll stay up all night and walk up to the fish market in the morning, still completely shitfaced. The fishers hate them with a passion.

13. Matt Being Touch-Starved

Matt being so, so touch-starved and at the same time so afraid of touch, because most of the time, when someone touches him, it isn't gentle. The most human contact he has is during fights. The rare occasions he gets a friendly touch is when Foggy or Karen hug him and he absolutely melts into their embrace, and it hurts, hurts, hurts when he has to let go, because holding on for longer would be weird. It gets so bad that he automatically leans in when someone he likes and trusts just lays their hand on his shoulder or brushes his fingers by accident. Sometimes, when it has been days, he finds himself in his bed, under his silk-sheets, all curled up, silently crying, because there's something missing.

14. Team Red at Beastmaster/Ninja Warrior/The Floor Is Lava

Let me just throw in here that notoriously broke Peter Parker convinces the rest of Team Red (really, just Matt, because Wade would do anything for Peter like the fangirl he is) to partake in one of these TV sports things (like Beastmaster, Ninja Warrior, The Floor is Lava etc.). Because they would easily win and go home with the money. They would need to convince everyone that Matt is just really good at following their orders, because, "Yes, he's blind, but no one else wanted to build a team with us, so here we are." Hilarity ensues.

15. Karen's Perfume

Karen once changed her perfume, but it made Matt sneeze all the time, so she dragged him shopping to get one he would like and that wouldn't fuck with his senses.

16. Matt and His Upside-Down Problem

I think Matt would nope out of situations where he would be upside-down for longer so fast, because it messes up his senses. The blood rushing into his head royally fucks with his balance, and when he gets back to being upside again, he gets dizzy. And it would be so much worse for him than for other people. So. Matt is like, "NOPE!"

17. Matt Kills Fisk

Okay, but Frank saying that Matt is one bad day away from being him and it nearly coming true in S3 has me thinking … What if Matt really went through with killing Fisk? Damn, thinking about the psychological damage has me thriving. And then Matt runs into Frank and they start talking. And Frank being kinda devastated that Matt betrayed his convictions like that. He's picking up the pieces.

18. Foggy and Karen Get Blipped

Okay, but now I have to think about Matt falling into a deeply depressive episode about Karen and Foggy being gone and going the opposite way of Clint. He doesn't become violent and just Daredevil, but he drops it altogether. He effectively kills Daredevil, because he can barely function and maybe a bit to honor Foggy and Karen, because they never really and completely approved of Daredevil. They just accepted it and tried to do better by Matt in the end. So maybe he thinks it would be what they would've wanted.

19. Foggy Got Blipped But Theo Didn't

Imagine Foggy got blipped but Theo didn't and when Foggy comes back, Theo teases him that he is the older brother now.

20. Fratt Brainworm

Just something about Frank and Matt patching each other up gives my brain happy chemicals.

21. Matt Deserves Soft Things

Imagine Matt crashing at his crush's place, but he is beat up, so they offer him their bed. Only that there is a plushy in said bed, because the person can't sleep without one and finds it soothing to cuddle something while sleeping. Matt unintentionally starts to cuddle the plushy and is thoroughly embarrassed once he wakes up, but he can't deny that cuddling with the plushy was nice and calming. And his crush picks up on it and gently tries to nudge him to get his own plushy. But Matt is a stubborn bastard, so they gift him the softest plushy they can find.

22. Cap Being a Boy Scout

Imagine Steve Rogers meets Matt when he is just his lawyer-ly self. No daredeviling in sight. They're just on the sidewalk and through sheer bad luck Matt's cane breaks/becomes useless (please don't nail me on this, I just need a scenario for Steve to offer to guide Matt). Of course Steve sees this and as the good boy he is, he offers his help. He introduces himself and, yeah, that's Captain America, alright. So Matt can only accept, because, yeah, he is blind and without his cane and doesn't have supersenses, nope, sir, no superpowers here, just a perfectly normal guy, who would appreciate Captain America's help, thank you. So Steve offers his arm and guides Matt home and, weirdly enough, talking to Steve is … nice. Matt finds that he likes the man, even though he isn't exactly a fan of the Avengers.

23. More CapDevil

Imagine after Steve knows that Matt is DD and they team up and during a fight Matt goes down. Steve yells, "Get up, soldier!" And Matt just. Freezes. Because. Childhood trauma. That Steve doesn't know about.

NS//FW

1. Matt Has a Bad Night and Needs Frank

The first time Matt ends up in Frank's bed is after a bad night on patrol. Something happened and Matt doesn't feel like he can talk to Foggy or Karen about it, because they don't get it. Not like other vigilantes do. He doesn't know why Frank, exactly. He could've gone to Jessica or Luke or Danny. Okay, maybe not Danny. But Matt finds himself on the fire escape right next to the window of the safehouse Frank is currently occupying. He pries it open and slips in, only to be held at gunpoint for his troubles as Frank steps out of the shadows. And Matt can't help it. He takes off the mask and just breaks down. He doesn't know why. It just happens. Frank lowers his gun and puts it away, before slowly approaching Matt and leading him to the only thing that can count as seating in this rundown apartment—a beaten, old mattress. He can't even offer Matt something soothing to drink, only a bottle of water that he has to ruffle through his duffel bag for to find. It's not even new. He has drunken from it earlier in the day. But Matt chugs it down gratefully. They don't talk. And at one point Matt just throws himself at Frank, kissing him frantically. He wants it to be fast and hard, wants Frank to fuck him into the mattress, until he can't think anymore. But Frank knows that's not what Matt needs. So he agrees to have sex with him, but it's tender and soft and Frank cares so much. It makes Matt break down again and again until his emotions run out and he is tired and beaten and fucked into sleep. When he wakes up the next morning, his limbs entangled with Frank's, he feels embarrassed. But also better.

2. Matt Is Being an Asshole

Frank is still sensitive where he has the gunshot wound on his ass. Matt knows this. So every time they have sex, Matt is a little bastard and presses his thumb against the scar, which, in turn, makes Frank let out a very high-pitched yelp.

3. Matt Needs to Be Held Gentle Like Hamburger

With Matt everything is intense—fighting, talking, even sex. He doesn't know how to function differently. So the first time someone is actually gentle to him during sex, no biting, no bruising, no animalistic fucking, he starts to cry.

4. Matt Likes Bondage

Matt learned that he likes to be tied up thanks to Frank chaining him to the roof in S2.

5. Matt Is Sensitive

Matt regularly comes untouched, because. Too sensitive. Especially when edging is involved.

6. Matt and Frank Are Perpetually Horny

Whenever Frank and Matt come across each other and exchange some blows, both of them have to take care of their boners afterwards with a cold shower.

7. Matt Is Hot and Foggy Is Turned On

Foggy absolutely gets hot and bothered when he sees Matt fight. It just turns him on. Especially when he sees Matt move in the black suit, which emphasizes all his muscles, particularly when he is all sweaty and worked up. Foggy asks Matt to show him some moves, so he can defend himself. He ends up pinned under Matt, sporting a hard-on.

8. Matt Is Into Marking

Matt is into biting and marking up his partners during sex, because he can feel the difference in their skin when he touches the spots.

9. Matt and Sex Toys

Matt has a collection of toys with different textures (like ridges and nubs and the likes), because his heightened senses let him feel these even more intensely than smooth toys. When he uses them, he gets overstimulated easily, which is a kink of his.

10. Matt Is a Voyeur (Non-Con)

So. Imagine Matt not being in a relationship. Imagine him being horny and wanting to have a wank. He closes his eyes, because even if he is blind, it subconsciously helps him concentrate. And then he listens. He listens to the city and weaves his way through unnecessary noises, until he can hear someone having sex/masturbating. And he tunes in to them and starts.

11. Matt and Foggy Being in a Relationship Without Realizing It

It took them years until they realized that, normally, friends didn't hold hands at every opportunity. Or that, normally, friends didn't kiss each other on the cheek quite as much as they did. And, at last, that, normally, friends didn't call each other up to have sex every so often. It was just something they did.

12. The Fratt Thing I Posted Separately Already

Sex with Frank was never soft or loving—it was rough and carnal, an urgent desire needing to be sated. It was an itch to be scratched, some deep dwelling need, a fire to be kindled and to never burn out. There was no caressing, no gentle touches, no sweet kisses; just blood, and teeth, and nails digging into skin until it broke. With Frank it was just fucking. Until it wasn't.

#Matt Murdock #Foggy Nelson #Karen Page #Frank Castle #Jack Murdock #Steve Rogers #Peter Parker #Wade Wilson #Daredevil #Punisher #Captain America #Spider-Man #Deadpool #Marvel #NMCU #MCU #Comic #Headcanons #Prompts #lemon-ade

[darthbloodorange]

Sharing his mate's heats feels like coming home like nothing else has in this world.

For the: ✦ Stucky Bingo Round 3 "AU: A/B/O" [O3] (SB033)

Word count: N/a - Moodboard  Title: In Heat Rating: Teens Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Nudity, Implied Sexual Content Major Tags: Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Omega Steve Rogers, Established Relationship ~ Summery: Sharing his mate's heats feels like coming home like nothing else has in this world.

#stucky bingo #Lemon #Stucky #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #Marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Omega Verse #Nudity. #Nesting #Alpha Bucky Barnes #Omega Steve Rogers #Established Relationship #DarthBloodOrange #DBO Moodboards #Moodboards

[imperialstark]

shades of cool

Based off of this post from @docdracula

Steve travels back to the past to change things but finds that some things are inevitable. Like the undeniable attraction between him and Tony Stark.

TW for infidelity and age gap between silver fox!steve and twink!tony

When Tony dies, Steve feels something inside of himself sever, like the fissuring of glass and stone. He watches Tony's eyes go dreadfully blank, the arc reactor flickering before fading out completely, and feels as if he's going to vomit.

The screaming and cursing will come later when he's all alone in the Brooklyn apartment he's called home for the past five years. But for now, surrounded by his teammates and the ashes of their enemies, all he can do is sink to his knees like the rest of them.

He makes up his mind then and there. It's not that this timeline has nothing for him anymore; he has Sam and Bucky and the other Avengers to think about. But a dark, buried part of him can't help but whisper, "Don't I deserve it? A moment of peace?"

Guilt eats at him, corrodes his insides until he feels like he's the one turning into ash.

He hides it as well as he can before anyone can talk sense into him, and for a moment, he thinks he'll get away with it scot-free.

But then there's Bucky. Bucky with that cool, assessing gaze, the ghost of the Soldier at the edges of it.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Bucky asks him one night over a couple of beers. The drinks are merely a practicality. What else is there for two worn-out men to do?

Steve takes a long draw from his Budweiser, wishing that it still had an effect on him. Maybe it would have made things easier.

"No," Steve says, keeping his voice light. "Making plans hasn't worked out for me recently, so I figured winging it was worth a shot, right?"

It's the only confession Bucky's going to get out of him.

Bucky sighs, but it's not just any sigh. It's the "You're an idiot, but I'm not going to stop you" sigh, a relic from their childhoods a lifetime ago.

"For your sake, I hope you're right," Bucky says and downs the last of his beer.

"Can't screw up any worse than I already have," Steve says.

They fall into silence, although the buzzed droning of the other bar patrons more than makes up for it.

Bucky claps a hand, his flesh hand onto Steve's shoulder, and Steve's eighteen again and all alone. "I guess this is the end of the line, pal."

Steve damns him, damns him for his earnestness and his understanding and the tears currently pricking the corners of his eyes. Bucky blinks, and the telltale shimmer of tears is gone.

Steve swallows pasts the knot in his throat. "I'm gonna miss you, but I can't do it, Buck. I can't be here."

"That's okay," Bucky says firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "We'll be okay."

And just to be a shit, Steve throws Bucky's words back in his face. "For your sake, I hope you're right."

It has its intended effect, Bucky snorting before punching Steve in the shoulder. "Punk."

"Jerk," Steve replies, not missing a beat.

"Yeah," Bucky says, smiling now, and Steve allows himself to breathe. "I'm gonna miss you too."

That doesn't stop Steve from leaving 2023 behind for 1947 with a heavy heart.

After much yelling and a few bullets sent his way, Peggy cries when she finally realizes it's him. She's still breathtakingly beautiful with her soft curls and graceful, full lips, painted a striking shade of red he has not seen in years. He hates himself for making her cry. Not once has he seen her falter in all the time he's known her until now.

Something about her eyes makes him tense. Maybe it's their darkness or the length of her lashes, but something about them is off. It isn't until much later that he realizes he was looking for another set of eyes long gone.

Howard welcomes him with open arms, engulfing Steve in a bone-crushing hug. As Steve returns his embrace, Peggy watching them with unbridled joy, Steve vows that things are going to be different this time.

He's going to free Bucky before HYDRA even deploys him on his first mission as the Soldier, and Howard will die old and gray surrounded by his family, not at the hands of someone he once called friend.

And Tony. Tony. Tony is a problem for later. Much later.

Years pass, and Steve spends every waking moment fighting to make things right. Except when it comes to Tony. With Bucky and Howard, he's confident; neither of them deserved the hands they were dealt, but Tony? Tony, who had loved being Iron Man more than life itself? What right does Steve have to take that away from him?

In 1969, Howard introduces Steve to Obadiah Stane, and it takes all of his willpower not to punch him in his grimy fucking face. Howard's no idiot, he knows Steve isn't fond of Stane, but if he has an issue with Steve's indifference, he keeps it to himself.

In this second lifetime, Steve has perfected the skills that SHIELD had instilled in him; it would be so easy to have Stane quietly disappear. But with no Stane, there was no Iron Man. And with no Iron Man...Steve doesn't like to think about a future where he's not fighting by Tony's side.

But Steve is getting older, granted, he may not look it. He only just started getting silver in his hair in the eighties. It's not like he would be doing much fighting by the time Tony becomes the hero he was meant to be. In a way, it's like losing him all over again.

So Steve keeps his distance. The universe needs Iron Man alone more than they need Captain America and Iron Man together, so he figures that if Tony's formative years remain unchanged, everything should go as planned. And if it's too painful to look Tony in his face, so young, not yet worn by betrayal after betrayal, that's between Steve and his conscience.

But Tony is stubborn. Steve should be used to it, but it's been years since he's dealt with Tony Stark's particular brand of bullheadedness. Tony's twenty-one when he corners Steve at a barbecue Howard's hosting in honor of Steve's birthday.

The younger man ambushes him in the kitchen, the rest of their little family none the wiser, just outside lounging around the patio. He's never let himself be alone with Tony in this timeline, so his sheer presence has Steve hot under the collar. Tony's all fire and brashness, and it's so damn familiar Steve can almost pretend they're on the quinjet post-mission, adrenaline and lust fueling their words.

It's no surprise that Tony kisses him. Steve's noticed the not-so-subtle looks sent his way, the ever-present innuendo peppered throughout Tony's words. Tony wants him. And fuck it all, because Steve wants Tony. Steve will always want Tony, even when his wife is waiting for him to return so he can blow out the candles on a cake at a birthday party he didn't even want.

Tony gets on his knees, hands already tugging at the leather belt around Steve's waist. Steve's used to Tony, his Tony taking his time, teasing Steve until he's practically begging for it. This Tony is still so young and inexperienced, so Steve's the one who eventually takes the lead.

Any guilt he feels for doing this to Howard, doing this to Peggy, flees the scene the second Tony takes Steve into his mouth. They make a wretched sight, he's sure of it, with his pants around his ankles and Tony's face buried in his groin.

Tony's lips are so soft, softer than Steve remembers. Stretched around the girth of Steve's cock, they're obscenely pink. He aches for charcoal and his sketchbook to commit this moment to memory, add it to the collection of memories from another lifetime.

Steve buries his hand into Tony's dark waves, longer than Steve's ever seen on him, tugging at the roots the way he knows Tony likes. This time though, Steve's the one with gray at his temples, and a little detail like that shouldn't bring tears to his eyes, but it does. This Tony is gorgeous, but it's still not him.

Tony moans around his cock, just like Steve knew he would, and Steve comes with hot pulses down his throat like he's an actor playing out a scene he's rehearsed hundreds of times.

"Why did you do that?" Steve asks tiredly after they get themselves looking somewhat presentable. The guilt hasn't set in yet. Maybe it will when they leave the sanctity of the kitchen.

Tony just looks at him with those big brown eyes that know far too much and says, "I wanted to make you feel better."

#stony #stevetony #anyway here's the fic for that post almost a month later 💖💖 #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #mcu #imperialstark fic #lemons hehe

[anika-ann]

Thirty-Three Minutes (S.R.)

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: professor Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 1700

Summary: Giving your fiancé a nice gift was all you intended.

You receive back more than you bargained for.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut (light bondage, light D/s, edging, oversimulation, hand kink (?), term ‘babygirl’ (no daddy kink), hints of dacryphilia, mirror kink and professor kink (if you squint)), language

A/N: Either a standalone (because it’s just a prof Steve, established relationship and filth) or a part of the Attached series. Figures that I'll return to Prof Rogers for filth. Sorry?

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

The sound falling from your lips was unhuman – a sob, a mewl, a plea – but you had no capacity to feel truly embarrassed. No time.

It was too much – so much and yet not enough – your body set on fire and yet standing too far from its satisfying heat.

And that bastard knew it. He knew it and you knew he did, because even though your vision blurred, starting to swim in tears, you could feel his intent gaze on you, his smile, so deliciously dark, his low voice whispering the filthiest praise as you tried to buck into the soft teasing touch of his fingertips.

It was all your fault, you were aware.

But how could you have known? You had just wanted to give him a present worthy of his standing and age. You had been saving so meticulously, barely keeping it secret from him, only to be rewarded by his utter awe when he opened his only gift for his fortieth birthday. A new quality watch; not a Rolex, but expensive and luxurious enough. He showed you exactly how much he appreciated it shortly after inspecting the watch and lid them carefully back in the box to put on later.

You had not expected the present to backfire like this. You had not expected the things done to your gut, to your poor core, to your hindbrain, sending indecent thoughts about how damn well his hands looked, adorned with a piece of practical jewellery.

You had no damn idea what it was what had you squirming; the testament to his position? The testament to power he might not hold over half the world like some fancy CEO would, but certainly over you? The way the leather bound his wrist so gently and perfectly, like a second skin, contrasting with the beautifully raised veins on the back of his hands?

It didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was doing something so awfully mundane like grading essays at his desk while you were supposed to be working on your thesis and… and you were staring. You couldn’t-- you couldn’t possibly form a single coherent thought about history of literature or whatever the topic of our thesis was when he hadn’t even changed from his shirt, only rolled out the sleeves, and sat there like this in your view. His fingers held the pen so elegantly, his other hand laid by the paper, the soft glint of the watch catching your eye every time he moved, drawing your gaze to his hands like a magnet.

Those damn hands. Soft and gentle. Large and strong. So sinfully talented. He could have you fall apart for him in a matter of minutes just by teasing you with those long dextrous fingers; and the image your mind had conjured, the image of your juices straining those elegant fingers on the very hand wearing those watch was just-

“Babygirl, you keep watching me like that and I’ll have to do something about it,” he said light-heartedly, unaware of your panties being shamefully soaked already, core weeping at the emptiness and acute need to be filled.

But Steve had a sharp mind; he understood soon enough. And he understood what precisely it had been that riled you up so much and way too fast, a smirk curling up those plump lips, hand cupping your chin to steal your breath with a filthy kiss, his free hand pushing your laptop aside and pulling you to your feet just to kiss you over and over as he walked you back to the mirror.

Fuck, the filthy gorgeous picture. Possessive hands sprawled over your stomach, over your pubic bone, as his fingers slipped under your leggings to tease you; pulling them down so you could watch as he dipped his fingers in your slick.

“My girl’s making such a mess for me, look at that, babygirl, isn’t that a sight…”

Coming almost untouched, a tingly feeling spreading to your toes as his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright and press you firmly to his front, to let you feel what you were doing to him. He had you on a bed so fast afterwards, propped up on the headboard so you could watch, with your hands tied so you had to take whatever he was giving, legs spread wide so he could fit his broad shoulders between them and lick an indulgent stripe all from your opening to your clit, beard burning against your sensitive flesh, only to return to work with his hands.

That gorgeous smart bastard, having you all figured out. Using his new watch, a gift from you, to time you, to time how fast he could push you over the edge for the second time. And then again, trying faster. And again.

And now. Fuck--- now. Now was the real torture.

“Steve, please-“ you whispered, voice hoarse, cunt clenching around nothing as he withdrew his fingers again, all but a fingertip petting your slick swollen petals, your thighs trembling with exertion.

“Shh, love…” he hummed soothingly, free hand pushing your hips down to keep you still, taking away his touch altogether to turn his wrist and look at the watch pointedly, his fingers coated in your slick glistening in the low light on the nightlamp, causing to try and fight against his hold. More. You needed more, you needed it right now. “It’s only been twenty-three minutes, babygirl. You can hold on for a little bit while longer.”

“No! Steve, please, please, pretty please-“ you babbled, word slurring, because gods, you could not. You needed him to make you come again, for the last time, your body was strung so tight, like a string on a violin the menace of your fiancé knew how to play all too well.  

“Oh sweetheart, you beg so prettily. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you…”

The praise washed over you like a tide wave, a shiver running down your spine, a tingle in your lower belly.

He released your hips, only to grab your thighs, spreading them further, tasting you again, tongue circling your clit and sending your head spinning, the tug at your insides almost violent, causing you to pull at the binds around your hands on instinct – you were so so close now, if he could only-

“No!” you your cried out breathlessly as he stopped and rested his forehead under your heaving breasts instead, placing a torturously soft kiss above your belly button.

Your thoughts were a never-ending spiral of please, please, please, Steve, love, please, I need to cum, I need to--- I need you to fuck me, please, please, PLEASE, I need it and there was no way out, no way out but through your safeword, but you wouldn’t, no, he called you his good girl and you were so close, your whole body burning and if he could only do one thing, if he could just--- Please, please, your fingers, your mouth, your-

Then, a sudden clarity, a deep inhale and exhale. You licked your lips.

“Professor, please-“

His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, sending a thrill and a sparkle of hope through your veins. He looked up from his spot, eyes impossibly dark, traces of your juices on his lips, on his beard. His mouth curled in a smirk, your racing heart stumbling in your chest.

“Oh babygirl…” he whispered, his thumbs petting the junction of your thighs, bringing the sweet sweet relief closer to your reach. His lips traced a line over the swell of your breast, teeth grazing your flesh, a breathy chuckle warming your already burning skin and you let your head lull back, revelling in the sensation. “That’s playing dirty. Naughty girl…”

Two fingers entered you without warning, but with a fabulous sensation of bliss, aiming straight for your g-spot, stretching you deep, over and over, curling and hitting an even better spot, his mouth ghosting over your collarbone, over your jaw and you panted.

“Yes, yes-“

Your chant was cut off by Steve’s lips, swallowing your sounds of pleasure and letting you taste your own, bringing you rapidly to the brink of a white-hot orgasm—

Only to pull away from your lips with a wet pop, his fingers stilling.

You snapped your eyes open to find Steve with a downright menacing smile on his kiss-swollen lips, horrible realization washing over you and causing your vision to blur anew.

“Steve-“

“So naughty…” he mused, pulling his fingers out as he retreated, admiring his hand – the very image you had daydreamed about, slick-coated long fingers of the hand where his new watch remained seated comfortably – before he used your juices like a paint, tracing a pattern on your inner thigh and you knew. You realized your terrible misstep, which would only prolong your most delightful torture. “I think you deserve another ten minutes as punishment, what do you say?”

You never got the chance to answer, soft fingertips having returned to their teasing, hungry lips stealing any words of protest from your lips.

By the time a few tears actually rolled down your cheek, your ten minutes clearly having passed, Steve had you boneless and soaking his hand and the sheets alike. Your release, coming with releasing your hands as well and letting you lie breathless and without a single coherent thought in your mind, came with Steve’s release as well, when he spooned you from behind, taking what was rightfully his with all but wordless encouragement from your side.

He held you close, chaining kiss after kiss wherever his lips could reach, the most tender of praises whispered to your skin lulling you to sleep.

Perhaps your choice of a gift was the best decision you had ever made, was your last thought. The best, right after sending the wrong attachment and saying yes to not only a date, but eventually, to Steve’s proposal as well.

Seeing what a damn watch on Steve’s hand had done to you, you were both wondering what a sight of a wedding band on his ring finger would do. But you still had some time before you’d figure that out…

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Series masterlist

S.R. masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading 💕 and potentially for your feedback 🥰

Really, blame @murdock-and-the-sea and this pic sent in the wrong/good time 🤐

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #professor steve rogers #lemons #college au #modern au #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #professor au #attached #thirty-three minutes #anika ann

[natandwandaseries]

Happy Pi Day everyone!

#the tartlets #the lemon meringue tartlets #thenatandwandaseries #natandwandaseries #ao3 fanfic #the nat and wanda series #marvel fanfic series #ao3 writer #marvel fanfiction #ao3 #steve rogers #captain America #Romanrogers

[fanfic-scribbles]

Digestifs: Chapter Five (Excerpt)

I don’t like posting 18+ stuff to Tumblr, so here’s a snippet of Digestif’s fifth chapter. And here’s a link to the full piece on AO3.

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Steve Rogers and his girlfriend may not always know what they’re doing, but they’re willing to work it out. Together. It’s just more fun that way.

Quick Facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader – Female Reader

Chapter Five: Play – Outside of his teammates and missions, Steve doesn’t really like when most people call him ‘Captain.’ There are, of course, always exceptions to the rule.

Excerpt:

~

Steve’s thumbs pressed into the ‘v’ of my groin, his fingers wrapping over skin and gripping as much of my hips as he could– not painful, but certainly unyielding, and he pushed me down into the bed likewise as he leaned in, his eyes narrowed, but a smirk on his lips as they hovered just above mine.

I tried for a similar expression, but my smile felt too wide. “What’s wrong? Didn’t like the way I called you ‘Captain?’”

~

(Read More Here)

#lemon #digestifs excerpt #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x ofc

[swtki]

SEND ME REQUESTS !!!

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