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navybrat817 · 11 months

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Around Your Throat

Pairing: Vampire Mob!Bucky Barnes x Gifted!Female Reader Summary: Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat. Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, f/ingering, b/iting, p/ossessive behavior, b/lood, feel (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Moodboard - yours truly A/N: Set before Lay Me Down, we're visiting our vampire to kick off Hot Bucky Summer challenge hosted by @buckybarnesevents! Theme - "What should I wear?" ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You stood in front of the full length mirror, a frown on your face as you looked over yourself. The black and gold gown you wore was beautiful, the v-neckline and fitted bodice drawing attention to your chest. Bucky had it designed for you, with your approval. He wanted only the best for his bride-to-be.

The fact that he had a matching suit almost put a smile on your face.

But you couldn’t figure out why you weren’t happy with your look. You thought for a moment that the dress was too much for a dinner, especially since you would be one of the only people at the table eating an actual meal. As Bucky’s future mate and your father’s daughter, however, it was the expectation that you’d look your best.

At least I won't have to create an illusion since I'll be amongst Bucky’s friends for the evening.

“I'm not sure about this,” you told your fiancé since he insisted on being in the room as you got ready, admiring your side profile with a sigh. "Should I change into something else?"

"Why would you change when you look good enough to eat?"

You spun around to face him, your breath catching when he stood from his chair and straightened his tie. He slicked his hair back for the evening and you longed to run your fingers through it to make a mess of it. This man managed to steal your heart and he would be the reason you took your last breath.

He was both your ending and your new beginning.

"Just what every girl wants to hear when she goes to feast with vampires," you teased, turning back to the mirror.

"If you sensed something was wrong, we wouldn't attend," he pointed out. He wouldn't risk your safety. He assured your father of that. "Should I tell Steve to play host while we skip it?"

"No, my love, because nothing is wrong," you assured him. You trusted his friends and the only gut feeling you sensed was that your evening would end happily. You looked forward to it.

"Then what's the matter?" he asked as he crossed the room and placed his hands on your hips. Though you couldn't see his reflection in the mirror, you imagined his blue eyes either darkened or glowed at the sight of you. Both stares always set the blood on fire in your veins. “Do you not like the dress? Should I rip it to shreds?”

“Don’t you dare,” you answered, narrowing your eyes when he chuckled. “I love this dress.”

“If you won’t let me tear this gown from your body, at least let me lift the skirt and bury myself in your pussy again,” he said, making you gasp when his cool lips brushed the shell of your ear. Your core throbbed at the idea, tempted to let him bend you over in front of the mirror as he took you apart. Once he turned you, you wouldn’t see your reflection ever again. “And if you love it, why have you stood here for the last two minutes, spinning and frowning at every angle?”

“As much as I’d love for you to ravage me, I don’t think we have time,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “And something’s missing. I can’t figure out what.”

Bucky hummed, gripping your chin to turn your head toward him. “I can get you off quickly," he said, which was true. "And you're missing an accessory. You need something around your throat.”

“Of course,” you smiled softly. Such a simple solution to a ridiculous problem. “What should I wear?"

He moved his hand to your neck before you could go to the armoire, making you moan when his fingers tightened. “I have something perfect in mind.”

“As much as I love this type of necklace,” you said, wetting your lips with your tongue. “I can’t go the whole meal with your hand around my throat.”

Bucky chuckled again, spinning you and pinning your back against the mirror with lightning speed. You trembled when his eyes began to glow, your blood rushing through your veins at the sight of his fangs. The mix of pain and pleasure whenever they pierced your skin brought you to a euphoric state. It was no wonder some begged to become a blood mistress or paramour.

You were lucky enough that you would belong to Bucky forever.

“And just because I can’t ravage you with my cock right this second doesn’t mean I can go through an entire meal without having a taste,” he whispered, pushing the skirt up so his cold hand could slide up your inner thigh. No tights and no underwear so he could have access to what belonged to him. His rule for the evening. “I need your blood and your cunt so I can behave myself."

“You better satisfy your craving then,” you whispered, knowing he’d want more before the sun came up. "And we'll see how well you actually behave."

Vampires had no shame when it came to sex or anyone who witnessed it.

Your wet, warm folds welcomed the cool feel of Bucky's expert touch. Before you could grip his arms, he pinned your hands above your head. His strength turned you on more, which you didn’t know was possible. You were almost in a constant state of arousal around him. “You'll beg for my cock long before you finish dinner,” he whispered against your lips, teasing your entrance as he kissed down the pulse in your neck. “Don't fucking move."

“Yes, sir,” you breathed, closing your eyes to brace yourself for what was coming.

Which would be you coming all over his fingers.

“Mine,” he growled, drawing a cry from you as he sank his fangs into your soft skin and slid two fingers inside your wet walls. You did your best to keep still as he slowly thrust and moaned against your neck. A submissive position he put you in to assert his power, yet you didn't feel weak. Even as he took your life essence and pleasure as his own he empowered you.

Because in return, you’d get every part of James Buchanan Barnes.

“Please, Bucky,” you begged when his thumb toyed with your clit. You wanted to grind your hips down, but he told you to stay still. If you had more time, you would've pushed to see what kind of punishment he'd dish out. But you knew he wanted to get you off quickly, like he said he could. "Please."

“So needy, darling. One of the things I love about you,” he said when he stopped drinking, blood running from your neck down your collarbone and chest as his fingers curled. He pulled back so you could see the red fluid around his lips. The feral look in his eyes as he licked them clean, your head spinning as you teetered on the edge. “Come for me.”

Your body seized up as you gushed around his fingers, your moan of ecstasy lost as he covered your mouth with his. You tasted your blood on his tongue as helped you ride out your orgasm. Days from now you would know the taste of him. Pleasure, eternity, love.

Your new life.

It took a moment for you to realize you were no longer against the mirror as you recovered. Bucky moved you to the bed to rest for a moment and catch your breath. the pinpricks in your neck closed and your dress straightened out. “Thank you for letting me have a taste,” he said, sucking his fingers into his mouth. “Didn’t think anything could make your blood sweeter, but your pussy does the trick.”

“Best combination,” you smiled.

“My favorite,” he agreed, helping you stand once your head stopped spinning. Lust still lingered in his gaze, but you couldn't ignore the concern that shone through. "Are you okay? I didn't take too much?"

"I'm okay," you assured him. He never wanted to lose control and take more than what he needed. No matter what, you were his number one priority. "And you won't have to worry once I you turn me."

"I'll still worry," he whispered. Loving you meant having something to lose. It also meant he had something worth living for. "One more thing before we go."

You smiled when he held up an onyx pendant surrounded by diamonds, like he pulled it out of thin air. Perfect to go with your dress. "It's beautiful," you said, allowing him to put it around your neck. "How did you manage to hide that from me?"

His fingers traced the delicate, gold chain as he smiled. "Because you aren't psychic, but you get feelings. Which is probably why you felt off when you looked in the mirror. You were waiting for me to give you this."

"It's like you know my gifts better than I do," you smiled, touching the pendant before you noticed there was still blood on your neck. "I should clean myself up."

"No," he said firmly, pulling you to his chest. You suspected his heart would race only for you if it could still beat. "You'll wear my mark with the necklace I gave you and your blood on your skin. You're going to be my wife and my mate. I want everyone to see that you belong to me and that there's no shame in my want for you."

You'd wear every brand and claim of his with pride.

"This won't show them that?" you asked, holding up your hand with your engagement ring.

"Vampires don't look at hands," he said, taking yours and kissing it. "They look at throats. And anyone who sees yours will know you're mine."

And I will be until the end of time.

"And when you turn me?" you asked, brushing your hand along his cheek. "Will I get to leave my mark on you and show everyone you're mine, too?"

"You can make an entire path of bites around my throat if that's what you desire," he offered, his icy hand covering yours. "I'll wear them proudly."

Bucky loved with his entire being. Not only were you strong and willing enough to accept it, you'd give him the same love in return. You would always be in each other's care.

My eternal partner.

"I might take you up on that," you smiled, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his pants. Tempted to drop to your knees and return the favor, you asked, "Do we have time for me to take care of you?"

"We're already running late," he said, giving you a gentle kiss. "But maybe you can keep my cock warm at the table. No one will mind."

"I thought you were going to behave at dinner if you had a taste," you said, your walls clenching with the need to surround him, like he hadn't brought you to orgasm moments before.

"I will behave," he said innocently, but his eyes flashed as he showed his fangs again. "But we'll see how long you last before you try to ride me in front of everyone."

"Well, you did say I'd beg for your cock before I finished dinner."

And you suspected his hand, the necklace, and your blood would be the only things you wore around your neck once he took you to bed for the night.

Who wouldn't want an eternity with Bucky? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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pasukiyo · 9 months

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SWINGS AND MISSES

mlb player!steve harrington x f!reader word count: 6288 words warnings: angst and smut notes: i don't know if i made it super clear in the story but steve plays for the phillies in this au summary: with steve's record-breaking walk-off home run, it should've been an extraordinary night. but steve's wife can't help her longing for hawkins, and when she hears from one of his teammates a rumor that steve may have received an offer from a team even farther away from home, she finally meets her breaking point.

AUGUST, 1994;

“I’ve never seen a home run in real life before! It was incredible!”

Steve’s lips curled into a smile as he held the baseball close to his stomach with his left hand, a marker in his right, printing his signature on the ball. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make a good first impression, bud,” he chuckled, leaning further into the wall separating the stands from the field to hand the ball back over before taking another from the other young boy beside him.

“Yeah. The announcer even said it broke a record! That was such a cool way to end the game,” the boy said as Steve handed him his newly autographed ball, capping the marker and stuffing it in the back pocket of his baseball pants. “I’ve never seen a homer hit that far! And it was a walk-off!”

“Yeah, I think it even went out of the park!” The other younger boy exclaimed and Steve laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wanna hit like you one day!”

“Yeah, how do we learn to hit like you?”

Steve laughed again at the rapid fire questions, uncrossing his arms to lift his baseball cap off his head and run his fingers through his sweat-slicked hair. “It’s all about the effort you put into the game. It’s all pointless if you don’t take the time to practice, right?” he replied, glancing away when out of the corner of his eye, he could make out a figure making its way down the stairs, heading in their direction.

A very familiar figure.

“Yeah! I practice all the time!” One of the younger boys responded, a wide grin on his face. “Sometimes, my mom brings her video camera to record me at batting practice. I love going to the cages!”

Steve was trying his best to keep his attention focused on the two children in front of him, he really was, but how could he possibly focus on anything else when his wife was coming his way looking like that? His muscles ached with fatigue and his stomach growled, and all he really wanted was to get some food in his system, clean himself up, and maybe even make a little love to his wife before getting a good night’s sleep. The closer she got, the harder he found it to maintain his patience.

The young boys in front of him continued to babble on about the practice they do outside of games as Steve’s wife approached in one of his jerseys— which was a few sizes too big for her— tucked into denim shorts, a Phillies baseball cap fit snug to her head. Steve’s grin widened as she approached and he gave her upper arm a squeeze before turning back to the children.

“I really hate to have to go but I’m sure your parents would hate me if I kept you boys up too late anyways,” Steve chuckled, raising a hand to the crown of his head to give the boys a little salute as he helped his wife climb over the wall and step onto the field. “Keep practicing!” He called over his shoulder as he threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders, giving her arm a squeeze. “And respect your parents!”

Her face pulled into a smile and her chest heaved with a laugh as she glanced up at him, scrunching her face when he met her gaze. “Look at you being so good with kids,” she giggled, lacing her fingers together with the ones dangling from her shoulders. “Almost like we’re back in Hawkins.”

Steve rolled his eyes at this comment, pulling her in closer so that he could press a kiss against her temple as he led them towards the dugout where only a few of his fellow teammates remained. “At least these kids don’t drive me up the fuckin’ wall,” he snorted. “You know Henderson called the other day just to make fun of the way I run bases?”

She tried to suppress her laugh as he pulled away from her to gather his equipment and he turned to cock an eyebrow at her as he snatched his helmet, tossing his batting gloves and fielding glove inside it when she let a giggle slip through the cracks of her lips. “What?” He watched as she crossed an arm over her chest and propped her opposite elbow against it, hiding her smile behind her knuckles. She shook her head, “nothing, nothing.”

Steve pressed his lips together in a pout and stood back up, a hand on his hip. “You think the way I run bases is funny too, don’t you?” He used his helmet to gesture over to where she stood, scoffing in disbelief when she broke into laughter, trying her best to hide it behind her hand. “I can’t believe you.”

One of his teammates strolled up, reaching past Steve to grab his bat, using his other hand to clasp his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better buddy, we all think you run bases funny,” he spoke with a grin and she erupted in laughter again as Steve used his glove to smack him against his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck off Kev,” he grumbled as he plopped down on the bench, prying his cleats off his feet. She giggled as she shuffled between his legs, cupping his face and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s okay, babe. On the bright side, your ass still looks ridiculously good in those pants,” she tittered and he rolled his eyes, playfully pushing her face away as he slipped on his slides.

“Whatever. You can talk to me once you’ve stopped taking Henderson’s side,” Steve rolled his eyes as he gathered the rest of his things and she followed him down the steps leading into the locker room, her hands in her back pockets. She gazed down at her feet, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, contemplating what she said next.

“You know… kinda miss that kid,” she said softly and Steve furrowed a brow, peeking at her from over his shoulder. “Are we talking about the same Henderson right now?” He asked and she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s just… you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve seen him. And everybody. And… Hawkins…”

“We went back for Christmas, remember?” She pressed her lips together and felt her face fell, wrapping her arms around herself, shrugging. “Yeah, I know but I mean… it was just an overnight trip and that was months ago…” She trailed off, stopping in her tracks when Steve’s name permeated the corridor and she turned to face the source of the voice.

“Coach,” Steve acknowledged the Head Coach of the Phillies, taking the older man’s hand when he outstretched it for him to shake. “The man of the hour!” Coach exclaimed before glancing behind Steve where she stood, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Always good to see you, Mrs. Harrington,” he greeted and she nodded back, a shy smile on her face as she weakly waved. “You wouldn’t mind if I stole your husband for a quick minute, would you?”

Steve blinked back at her, a slight furrow still in his brow but she waved him off anyway. “As long as you promise to bring him back,” her laugh came out as more of a breath, but the coach chuckled anyway, leading Steve away towards his office. She stood alone in the empty hallway leading to the Phillies locker room, arms wrapped around herself, her heart pounding and mind racing.

She wasn’t sure what she was hoping would come out of confessing to Steve how homesick she felt. It wasn’t his fault they hardly ever had the time to visit— Major League Baseball was his career, traveling and moving one place to another was just part of it.

But still, she couldn’t resist the yearn she felt for something more… stable. For a place she could call home, for a place she could stay. Hawkins was home to her— it always, always was. Even after all the strange things she and Steve had experienced in the small town in Indiana, she still felt connected to the place, still had threads tying her down in its roots. It was where she grew up, where she had friends, where she had family.

But she wasn’t sure how Steve would feel about that.

“Harrington leave you all alone?”

She turned to the source of the voice and there stood Matt, one of Steve’s teammates, big and burly as ever with his arms crossed and his baseball bag hanging from one of his shoulders. She forced a smile, “Coach needed to see him in his office. Maybe he’s in trouble.”

Matt rolled his eyes at this, “yeah right, like Star Boy is gonna get in trouble,” he scoffed. “You know, rumor has it Boston’s interested in him.”

She blinked. “Boston?” Steve had never mentioned this to her before, of course she knew his contract with the Phillies was about to expire, but surely he would’ve told her if he’d gotten any other calls? Was he keeping this from her?

Matt lifted his baseball cap to scratch at his scalp, his brow furrowed, lips turned in confusion. “You didn’t know?” He asked, and she shook her head. “No… No, I didn’t.”

As if her mind wasn’t already racing before, it was practically a typhoon now. Surely this was all a misunderstanding? Perhaps he was in the Head Coach’s office right now working out a new deal to renew his contract, maybe there was nothing to worry about after all. Because Steve would’ve told her about something like this, right?

“Anyway, surely you have nothing to worry about,” Matt tittered as he sauntered past. “No matter where he ends up, he’ll be making a shit ton of more money than I’ll ever make in a lifetime, so what the hell do I care where he goes?”

She blinked as Matt said his goodbyes and disappeared into the locker room, once again leaving her alone to her thoughts. It wasn’t long after that Steve finally reemerged from the Coach’s office, laughing at whatever had been said moments before. The sound of the door closing echoed through the hallway and Steve turned back to face her where she stood, gesturing with his head to the locker room.

“I’m gonna go get changed, be back in a minute,” he said, turning around before she had the chance to even open her mouth, disappearing inside the locker room. And the whole time she stood in that empty hallway alone, all she could think of was Boston and how much further away from home— Hawkins— it was.

She told him when he got drafted in the major leagues that she’d follow him anywhere he went— and she still stood by that. But was it so wrong for her to long for home, to miss her family, her friends? Was it so wrong to just wish for a week, even a weekend to go back and visit her loved ones?

And why was she so nervous to ask Steve about it?

Steve had never been too fond of Hawkins. Perhaps, years of dealing with alternate reality monsters and scary Russian men will do that for you. But she knew Steve loathed Hawkins for another reason— his parents. His parents that were never there, his parents that never cared to show up to a high school basketball game, baseball games, even his own graduation. His parents that never even bothered to be there, who always had something better to do than be at home with their son.

Hawkins was where he grew up, Hawkins was a constant reminder of how unwanted he used to be. So of course he’d gotten out of there the first chance he got, of course he’d brush her off every time she wanted to go back, of course their time to visit was reduced down to a simple overnight stay over Christmas.

Hawkins would never be home to Steve Harrington, and sometimes she feared he failed to acknowledge that it was quite the opposite for her.

“Ready to go?” His voice broke her thoughts and she blinked up at him, now wearing sweats and a plain white tee, his hair messy and unkempt atop his head. He spun the keys to his old BMW around his pinky finger, pinching his lip between his teeth as he approached, using his free arm to sling around her shoulders. “Everything okay?” He asked, giving her a fleeting squeeze and pressing a kiss to her hair.

She wanted nothing more than to question him, ask him what the quick little meeting with his coach was about, ask him what she was hearing about being traded to the Red Sox, whether or not he’d been hiding it from her, and if he was considering taking them up on whatever they offered him. But not here— it could wait for the car.

“Yeah, yeah,” she nodded, letting him lead her towards the exit. The night air in Philadelphia had a bit of a chill and she shivered when Steve opened the door leading to the players’ parking lot, the old BMW he’s had since high school waiting for them beneath the lamppost light. She clutched the strap of her purse as they made their way towards the car, worrying her lip between her teeth.

Steve glanced up at her over the top of his car as she circled around to the passenger’s side, swinging open the door and slipping inside. He watched as she buckled in her seat belt while he turned the keys in the ignition, her fingers dropping in her lap as she stared out the window.

“You sure everything’s okay?” He asked again, reaching over to brush his fingers against her knuckles. She turned to face him, face void of expression as their eyes surged into one another. Something was wrong, Steve could feel it.

“What was all that about?” She questioned. “You know, with your coach and all that.” Steve pulled his fingers away and leaned back into his seat, searching the steering wheel as he tried to string together what to say next. She watched as he scratched at his chin, outstretching his palm, “he wanted to discuss my contract,” he replied. “Since it’s expiring soon.”

She nodded, pressing her lips together in an attempt to still her beating heart. Steve rolled his tongue against his cheek, unsure of what to say next, and when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate any further, she drew in a shaky breath, gazing out the windshield. “I heard from Matt that Boston is interested in you.”

Steve blinked, his lips pressed in a firm, thin line as he grew silent, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and turning the keys in the ignition with the other. The car roared to life and Steve said nothing as he turned to gaze out the back windshield to pull out of his parking space. Silence was thick in the air as he drove out of the parking lot, a lump forming in her throat and the tension was hot, a heavy weight on either of their chests.

“Why are you not talking to me?” She finally asked, glancing over to where he sat, jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping it. “Why didn’t you tell me about Boston?” She questioned, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Steve ran a hand through his hair, “the call only came in a few days ago.”

Her stomach flipped at the admission and she turned, brow furrowed in disbelief. “You got the call a few days ago and didn’t think to tell me about it?” It was hard to hide her agitation now. “What happened to… to talking to each other, Steve? Don’t you think I would’ve liked to have known about something like this?”

Steve tapped the pad of his thumb against the top of the steering wheel, propping his other arm against the window, cupping his chin in his palm. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he replied. “I know how much you hate traveling and I didn’t know how to bring it up and—“

“Steve, I… don’t hate traveling,” she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest, scoffing as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “I told you early on that I have no issue following you anywhere you go, and I still stand by that. What I have an issue with is you, number one: not telling me any of this crap and number two: brushing me off when I tell you that I want to go home. Why can’t we go somewhere for me for once? You have off days, but we spend them doing what you want, never what I want.” Her words were pouring out of her but at this point, she couldn’t make them stop.

Months upon months of her frustrations that had been pushed to the side to rest were now forcing their way to the frontlines, and she realized now that she wanted to be heard. She didn’t want to be pushed to the sidelines anymore, she didn’t want to keep everything to herself anymore, she just wanted to be seen. She wanted everything she’d spent energy burying to be recognized, she wanted Steve to acknowledge her.

“Can we… not do this tonight?” Steve said at last, wiping his brow in vexation and gripping the steering wheel with a two hand feel. “I’m tired, you’re tired, so can we please just chill out and talk about this in the morning?” She gnawed at the flesh of the inside of his cheek, “no, Steve,” she spoke firmly, her tone as stern as it could get to let him know that she wouldn’t be cowering away this time. “I’m not tired. Don’t tell me to chill out whenever you don’t feel like listening. I’m not going to let you push me to the side this time,” she said just as the car rolled to a halt in front of a stoplight.

“I’m not pushing you to the side!” His voice has raised this time, but still, she had no intention of backing down. “Honestly, you’re sounding so selfish right now,” he muttered, shaking his head and gazing out the window to his side, keen on looking anywhere but at her.

She blinked, clearly taken aback. “I’m being the selfish one?” She scoffed, pointing a finger to her chest. “You won’t even listen to me. You won’t even talk to me.” Steve didn’t reply as the light turned green, making it clear he didn’t want to argue any further, only adding more coal to her fire.

She dropped her head, feeling the bitter sting of tears in her eyes that she desperately tried to lock away, sinking her teeth further into the plush of her lip to help keep them from falling. Feeling unheard was probably the worst feeling she’d ever felt in the world, it felt as if she were drowning, meters below the ocean, her screams falling onto deaf ears. All she could see for miles was darkness and she was falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of black.

Steve was usually her lifeline but now, he was further and further away, and she was sinking deeper and deeper…

“So what is it then?” She said at last, turning her head to glimpse over to where he sat, her voice cutting through her throat like a knife. “We’re just gonna move to Boston— which is even further away from Hawkins, by the way— and everything will just be okay? We’re just gonna forget about our friends and family and throw away everything I want to do just so I can be King Steve’s good, obedient little wife?” She hissed, and Steve turned to face her now as he pulled into the parking lot of their luxury apartment building, eyebrows knit together in frustration.

“We spend all your off days doing whatever the hell you want, why can’t we take a weekend or something to go back home and see everyone?” She pressed further. “I miss them. I miss Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Max, El, Robin— Robin’s your fucking best friend and you’ve only seen her once in the past year. You can’t even stay on the phone with her for more than ten minutes now.”

“Because I’m fucking busy trying to give us a future!” Steve practically roared, his voice like a crack of thunder, even making her tremble where she sat. She recoiled and pressed her lips together, blinking. “I’ve been working almost every single fucking day to provide for us, to provide for you. You tell me you understand that this is my career, that traveling and press conferences and practices and brand deals and all that other shit is just a part of it. But then you sit here and bitch at me for it, complaining that I’m not listening, that I’m being selfish when all I fucking do everyday is work so you can be comfortable!”

Her vision glossed over with the haze of tears again and she blinked, sniffing. “You’re missing the point, Steve. I never asked for you to give up your career. I never asked for you to take time off for me. I asked you to hear me. I asked that we use the time that you’re off to go back home,” she replied softly, her tone void of the firmness she held before. Steve didn’t dare look at her, eyes narrowed as he stared straight ahead through the windshield, hands still tight around the steering wheel.

“Then what the hell’s stopping you from just leaving?” He asked, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, and she blinked, sure that tears were falling now. “So that’s your answer?” She grimaced at her own voice, watery and threatening to break. “You’re just going to push me away? Tell me to leave?”

Steve closed his eyes, his chest heaving with a sigh as he leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the headrest. A moment of silence dangled between the two, neither seeming to know how to break it. One hand dropped to his lap and the other rose to his forehead, the bridge of his nose pinched between his thumb and forefinger. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her wet and sticky cheeks, pressing her lips together as she shook her head, gazing at the parking lot outside the window. The city was alive and noisy at this time of night, its light polluting the night sky and ceiling away the stars.

This wasn’t what she had grown up to know. Even still, the city was still foreign to her. She missed the quiet of a small town, missed looking up at the night sky and seeing the stars twinkling down at her. She just missed home.

But what was Hawkins without Steve in it too?

“I don’t…” Steve began, blinking up at the ceiling of his car. “…I don’t know what to do.”

She glanced over at him, her arms crossed over her stomach, her fingernails scratching lines into her skin. She looked at Steve now and saw someone she hadn’t seen in awhile, not since they lived in Hawkins.

Steve looked lost.

“I don’t know what the right thing to do is anymore,” he breathed a laugh at himself, flattening his palm against his eyes and shaking his head again. “I just feel like I’m letting you down no matter what I do.”

She furrowed her brows together and turned in her seat until her back was against the door, her left leg bent and leaning against the back of her seat. “Steve, you’re not… you’re not letting me down,” she replied in a soft murmur. “But it hurts me when you don’t listen to me. I never try to push you too hard or stop you from doing what you love to do,” her lips curved into a small smile. “And it makes me so happy to watch you play baseball. Because you just look so… peaceful. You look happy. Even if you do look funny running the bases.”

Steve snorted at this, turning his head to the side to face her. “For awhile there, you weren’t happy,” she could feel her voice begin to crack, more tears glossing her vision, her voice thick with emotion. “I know you weren’t happy back in Hawkins,” she continued. “Just like you know I used to not be happy back then either.”

Steve sniffed, his eyes dropping to her fingers where they rested in her lap, and he watched as she leaned closer towards him, her fingers finding his. He shuddered when their skin met, already melting into her touch, squeezing her fingers tighter when they laced together with his. His molars sunk down into the flesh of the inside of his cheek, trying to maintain his own composure.

“But Hawkins is home to me,” she murmured. “Hawkins is where our story began. It’s where we both grew up, it’s where we found each other. And I’ll always be grateful to Hawkins for that.”

Steve let his fleeting gaze linger on their hands for a moment before her other hand pushed against his chin, leading his eyes back home, back to her. “Even with everything we went through there, we made so many memories,” she chuckled. “Like the first time you took me on a date and you pulled up to my house and my dad…”

Steve’s lips curved into a smile and parted in a laugh, “he grilled me.” She laughed along, nodding. “I still remember how nervous you were to even hold hands with me, like my dad was waiting around the corner or something.”

“He can be really intimidating.”

“No shit,” she chuckled, leaning the side of her head into the passenger seat’s headrest. “And I remember our first kiss…”

Steve let the pad of his thumb soothe over the smooth skin on the back of her hand as he recalled the memory, the image of her standing in front of him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes he fell in love with, wearing that ridiculously pretty baby blue dress he still secretly wished she would wear more often. He could remember how nervous he was, how he felt like his heart was going to either burst out of his chest or he was going to shit it out. He remembered wondering how a girl so perfect could ever want to be with him, how insecure he felt about himself, whether or not he was a shitty boyfriend.

All of it melted away when she fluttered her eyes closed and began to lean in and he, too, began to fall in closer…

“Yeah,” Steve sighed his reply, and she smiled warmly. “So you see now why I want to go back so bad?” She asked. “Hawkins was where our story started. Hawkins will always be home to me.”

Steve drew in a deep breath and nodded, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah,” he said. “But I still don’t know what to do about Boston.”

She glanced down to their joined hands, her free hand soothing up and down his arm. When she looked back up, Steve’s face was contorted in thought, eyebrows knit together, eyes unfocused and lips pressed together. She gave his hand a squeeze, “do you want to go to Boston?”

He blinked and peered over at her where she sat, waiting for a reply. Her face was void of all frustration from before, expression warm, inviting. How could he have ever taken her for granted?

Steve gave a short nod, “I think so.”

Her lips grew into a grin, “then we’re going to Boston.”

Steve’s face softened but a wrinkle in his brow still remained. “And you’re… okay with that?” He asked, and she nodded. “As long as we can do things I want too. I just want to dedicate some off time to going back home. I want to see everybody. I miss all our friends. I miss my dad.”

Steve nodded, giving her hand a squeeze, “okay.”

She nodded back and pushed herself from her sitting position, leaning over the console until their faces were close, their lips a whisper away from one another. “Okay,” she whispered against his lips and Steve gazed up at her, his deep, brown irises melting into hers. His gaze fleeted down to her lips as he reached a hand around to cup the back of her head, pulling her mouth down onto his.

His lips were soft and she melted into them as if they were a pillow. Steve kissed her with an urgent, tender need, like his tongue was telling her a million sorrys he couldn’t relay in words. She moaned into his mouth when he squeezed her hip with the hand not tangled in her hair and she climbed her way over the console and onto his lap, her hands on either of his cheeks, the firestorm on her skin erupting into a volcano, hot magma pouring over her and pooling onto him.

His kisses trailed down her chin to the underside of her jaw, her fingers inching their way to his hair, giving the roots a tug when he sucked a mark there. Her lips fell apart in a gasp at the feeling of his teeth ghosting over her flesh, teasing a bite on the sensitive part of her neck. “Steve,” she mewled as his hands felt up her waist, to her stomach, and around to the buttons of her jersey.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured against her lips when his kisses found their way back to her mouth, his fingers working at the buttons of her jersey. “I’m an asshole,” he mumbled as he pushed her now fully opened shirt down her arms, his mouth hot when they found her one of her erect nipples and she threw her head back, squeezing the roots of his tendrils tighter.

“Mm mm,” she shook her head as he swirled his tongue around her peaked bud, staring up at her through a hooded gaze as he sucked. “You’re… not!” She arched her back and moaned when he released her breast with a pop, trailing kisses between the valley of her tits to ravage the other. “Not an… asshole.”

His smile was a crescent against her skin as he worked at the other and she pressed her lips together in a whimper, feeling heat pool between her legs, her core clenching when she ground her hips down into his erection. “Stevie,” she panted when he released her breast, kissing her collarbone until he could make out dark marks in her skin. “Hmm?” He hummed against her flesh, glancing up at her.

She ground her hips down into him once again, causing him to groan and buck his own up into her. She gasped at this, feeling tears sting her eyes before streaming down her cheeks. “I just… I just wanna feel you,” she managed to breathe out, her teeth pinching her bottom lip hard enough that she nearly drew blood. “Just want you inside me.”

Steve probably could’ve come from just her voice alone. His cock was aching and throbbing in his sweats and he tapped the underside of her thighs to tell her to sit up. She mewled as she rose off his lap, allowing them both to strip themselves from their pants and underwear.

Their eyes surged into one another as Steve’s middle and pointer finger traced a line down her center, his palm flush with her clit, her lids fluttering closed and a cry erupting from her throat and permeating the small space of his car. “You’re dripping for me, baby,” Steve purred, using his other hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks, the pad of his thumb soothing over her closed eyelids. “You always get so wet for me,” he praised, drawing her face closer to his to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. “You’re always such a good girl for me. Always make me so proud.”

“Stevie,” she mewled, voice dripping with need from his words. His fingers still worked back and forth over her slit, the tips teasing her clit and every so often, her entrance. “Yeah baby?” He cooed, nuzzling the bridge of his nose against the underside of her jaw. She whimpered again, “just need you inside. Please.”

Neither of them could care any less that anyone could easily be watching them right now, all they cared about was each other. All Steve wanted to do right now was take care of his girl, to make sure she felt wanted, needed, heard.

So he wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the base of his cock, hissing between his teeth at the sight of her cunt just dripping, aching to be filled. He gazed back up at her and reached for her face, cupping her cheek with one hand and kneading the flesh of her hip with the other. “Look at me,” he whispered, waiting until her eyelids fluttered back open and he could stare into his gorgeous irises of hers. “You ready?” He asked with a little nod, and when she nodded back almost immediately, he guided her down into his lap with the hand on her hip, his lips falling agape, a deep, guttural groan bellowing from his throat.

She cried as he slowly pushed himself all the way in until she was fully seated in his lap, crystals of tears resting on her eyelashes. Even after all these years, she couldn’t believe how big he was, how every inch seemed to fill her up in the most perfect way, leaving no part of her untouched.

And Steve couldn’t believe how tight she still was. She always squeezed him in just the right way, her pussy always seeming eager to milk him, and he always seemed to be near spent even when they had just started.

“Ready to move?” He murmured close to her ear and she nodded, lifting her hips gently before setting her pace, either of his hands now on her waist, guiding her up and down his cock. The windows had since fogged up, the lights outside nothing more than white and orange dots, like watercolors. She managed to peel her eyes open enough to peer down at him, her lips finding his, their moans muffled against each other.

“I love you,” Steve purred against her mouth, his breath hot and making liquid of her insides. She felt her heart skip a beat when he said this, as if it were the first time she’d ever heard him say it. It was like this with everything with Steve. He made every touch, every kiss, every ‘I love you,’ every everything feel like the first time.

And that’s what she loved most about him.

“I…” she gasped at a particular deep thrust, rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks. “…oh God! I love you too!”

Her palms ventured down the chest of his t-shirt until they reached the hem, tugging at it to signal that she wanted it off. Steve wasted no time in reaching down to pull it up and over his head, her hips still rocking back and forth on his cock as he discarded it somewhere behind him, his hands cupping either of her elbows and drawing her mouth back onto his.

She was so dangerously close to the edge, Steve was so dangerously close to the edge. It was enough to make her cry out, to wrap her arms around Steve’s head and hug him close to her chest. “Gonna… fuck! Gonna come baby?” Steve groaned as he thrusted up into her, meeting her hips in rhythm with her rocking. She nodded, unable to speak as a spark trailed down her stomach until it erupted in flame at her center, white light flashing behind her eyelids as she exploded, a blissful heat ripping through her.

Steve’s hands cradled the small of her back as she struggled to catch her breath, letting him pound her through her orgasm until he too let himself go, spurts of his seed spilling somewhere deep inside her, painting her cervix like it was his canvas.

He held her tighter as she trembled, panting and chasing air back into her lungs, aftershocks rumbling through her as he slowed his hips before pulling out altogether, making sure his hands were there to catch her before she fell.

His palm cracked the back of her head to his chest, their pants slowly dwindling down to soft breaths, their skin melting into each other until they became one. His thumb soothed over her shoulder blade, his other arm wrapped around her waist, ensuring neither he nor she were going anywhere.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered close to her ear, his breath hot as it rolled over her skin. “And I’m sorry. I promise I’ll hear you out from now on. You shouldn’t feel like you’re being silenced around me.”

He could feel her smile against the curve of his shoulder, her lips pressing a soft kiss to his skin. His lips curled into their own smile. “Thank you,” she murmured against his flesh. “Can we just stay here like this for a minute?”

He hummed into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Mhm,” he hummed, resting his cheek against their head and letting his eyelids flutter closed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

a/n; i have literally been wanting to write an mlb player steve au for the longest time and i just never have gotten around to it 😭 i'm not sure if any of you know this, but i used to play softball, started playing when i was 8 years old all the way up until my senior year of high school, so softball/baseball has pretty much always been a big part of my life and LAWD can you just imagine steve as a major leaguer 😍 anyways, its been awhile since i've posted anything steve related and i'm so sorry for that! but i hope you all enjoy this one! it turned out to be a lot longer than i initially expected it to lol (ps, i definitely wouldn’t mind writing more for major leaguer steve in the future 👀)

TAGLIST

@thesilentshape @oliviajdjarin 🫶

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #baseball player steve harrington #mlb player!steve harrington #baseball player!steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things

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plainemmanem · 2 years

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imagine a pool day w steve and the kids,, and steve and you are just all over each other

ok picture this… steve in his little hawaiian swim trunks with his hair all slicked back *whimpers*

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“Would you get me some ice water if I asked?” You tilt your head towards Steve. Despite your sunglasses, you still need a hand to block out the relentless sun.

Lifting his head up from his forearms, he fixes you with a questioning look, eyes squinting and face scrunched up in hopes of blocking out the harsh light from his poor, red face. Sunbathing seemed like a good idea, but the unbearable heat made you envious of the kids as they played in the pool. The group was indecisive, constantly switching between Marco Polo to sharks and minnows to chicken all in a span of about ten minutes.

“Are you asking?” he gave you a side smile, knowing damn well he’d do just about anything for you.

You give him a sheepish grin and close your book, making sure to keep your finger wedged in your page.

“Please?”

He groaned exaggeratedly, dropping his head defeatedly. Rolling off his chair, he shuffled over to you with a disappointment shake of the head and his signature smirk.

“The things I do for you…” he tried to tease, but he couldn’t help the fondness creeping into his voice or the adorable look on his face.

You peak back over at the kids again, a smile coming to your cheeks at their antics.

You were happy they could finally relax and enjoy a normal summer like all the other kids in Hawkins. It reminded you of your own childhood. Walking to friends’ houses and watching movies all night, only to wake up late in the afternoon the next day, and spending the rest of the evening in the pool. Spending all your money at the ice cream truck or the mall, unfazed by the supernatural or any other hidden dangers.

Something icy cold brushes against your shoulder, making you jolt. Spinning quickly, you catch Steve’s smug face, glass of ice water extended towards you.

You let out an unintentionally held breath, then roll your eyes as you take the cup. Chuckling softly, he slinks down next to you on the chair.

“Jackass,” you mumble against the cup’s rim before taking a sip. The ice hurts your teeth, but it offers some much needed relief in the blistering heat.

“Oh, please. You love me.” He mutters, taking a sip of his own and looking over to the kids at the pool. A wistful look comes over him as he watches, his drink quickly forgotten. His face softens and his eyes haze over as he recalls the last few months, all the horrors the kids have been through, the life they all could have had…

Reaching out, you tap the side of his glass, gently rousing him, and he jumps before giving you a warm smile. Zoning out had become common between you and Steve. Unfortunately, it was hard to focus on the present after such a scarring past. You depended on one another a lot more now.

“Have some,” you gesture to the glass, taking another sip of your own. “You look hot.” His face was a tad burnt, as well as his shoulders and neck, and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and soothe the inevitable sting.

“‘Look hot?’ Geez, keep it in your pants, would ya? There’s kids around.”

You roll your eyes at him, swatting his leg lightly. His skin is on fire and you shoot him a concerned look.

“Steven, you said you put on sunscreen…”

He swallows roughly and immediately grows defensive.

“Hey! I did put it on….” You shoot him a knowing look, urging him to continue. “I just, forgot to put it on my back…” he mumbles softly to himself, running a finger over the rim of his cup bashfully.

“Steve!” you groan, leaning down to hunt for the sunscreen at the bottom of your bag. The cool bottle grazes your fingertips and you pull it out, as well as half the contents of you bag. You leave it, opting to work on his back first.

“I couldn’t reach-“

“Hush, and turn around.” You twirl your finger at him and start squirting the thick, white protectant on your hands, rubbing slowly.

“It might be a little cold,” you warn him gently, just brushing your fingertips along his spine to prep him. The shiver that runs up him is almost undetectable, but you notice right away, smirking to yourself. His back is very toned and very hot and you take your time to make sure you cover the whole expanse of his skin.

Moles scatter across his entire backside, and you take your time counting each one, trying to remember their pattern. His head tilts backwards lightly and the tips of his hair brush against his skin, picking up sunscreen. You grab the crown of his head and push forward a bit, correcting his posture wordlessly, before grabbing his hair in your fingers and rubbing the sunscreen from it. A soft hum leaves his throat from the light tugging on his scalp and you chuckle a little to yourself.

He’s like a cat. A big, hot, well-groomed cat.

You move downwards in tight circles, his muscles rippling under his skin as the sunscreen’s white cast starts to fade away. You’re basically just massaging him now, but he seems so content, you’re afraid to pull away. You spend some time rubbing each vertebrae of his spine, his shoulder blades, then move down to his waist and sides, rubbing and grabbing at the warm flesh there.

Gently, you start to drag your fingernails along his skin; his shoulders raise slightly at the sensation. Leaning forward a tad, you place a soft kiss right at the top of his spine, then one slightly lower. The smell of sunscreen tickles your nose as you rest your cheek on his hot back and wrap your arms around his middle. Heat be damned, you have to hold him. His hands come up and grab your wrists, pulling you even tighter, and his forearms rest over yours. Tilting his head back and to the side, he searches for you, but you can’t pull your face away from his back.

The soft, familiar thudding of his heart wracks through his rib cage and you squeeze him just a little bit tighter.

“Love you.” You don’t even know if he’ll be able to hear your mumbling, but you need to say the words out loud.

“Love you more,” he says softly, and your chest bubbles at his sentimentality. You press your lips to his neck now, stretching up to rest your chin on his shoulder and peak over at the kids.

He side-eyes you as much as he can before following your line of sight to the pool.

It’s always been an unspoken thing, you and Steve taking care of the kids. It’s always just felt right.

You catch him licking his lips slightly in your peripheral, before taking another sip of his water. He peaks at you again and brings the glass to your cheek, cooling you instantly. It was his turn to be concerned.

“Wanna go in?” he shifts a little to get a better look at you. “You look hot…” His brows furrow and his lips press into a worried line, his other hand coming up to feel your warm forehead and neck.

Your eyes close gently at his touch, and you nuzzle a little closer.

“Keep it in your pants, Harrington. There’s kids around.” You smirk, turning his own words against him. You hear him snort and pull away from you, making you pry your eyes open a bit.

“Reusing my old material? Yeah, you definitely need to go inside. Prolly have heat stroke.” You laugh gently, so genuine it makes his heart ache.

He leans back a little in the chair, pulling you tenderly into his lap, his hands resting at your stomach. Your legs tangle together and your head lolls backwards onto his shoulder, eyes closing once again with a fond smile on your face.

“You really think this,” you gesture to his arms and legs tangled around you, “is gonna help my heat stroke problem.”

You feel his chest rumble and he holds you a tad tighter, nestling his face into your neck and popping a kiss to your skin.

“Don’t care. You’re cute when you’re all ‘heat-strokey,’” he mumbles into your skin lazily.

A laugh rips through you once again, and you bring a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through the strands and tugging lightly. You can feel his smile pressed into your neck, as well as the occasional kiss or little nip of his teeth.

Your other hand strokes up his leg, feeling the soft skin below the trails of hair. Rubbing at his knee absentmindedly, you trying to focus on anything besides his hot mouth at your neck.

“I really think… we should go inside,” he can barely get the sentence out with his lips latched onto your neck.

You let out a breathy “ok” as you lean back further into him, showing no intentions of moving anytime soon.

You’re heating up between the sun and the human furnace beneath you, but the heat feels addicting.

His hands start getting a bit more adventurous, traveling down to your thighs and kneading the flesh there before roaming back up to your sides. Your head falls further to the side, giving him more access to your neck, and your mouth falls open just a tad as you try to take deep, steady breaths, and fail miserably.

“Steve-“

“Hmm?”

“D-Do you think we could do th-that thing from last time? “

“Mmm… course sweetheart…. if you’re good for me— mmm — I’ll do anything you want, ok? Shit, I wanna hear those pretty noises agai-“

“Ewwww!”

Your eyes snap up at the kids, catching their disgusted faces before guiltily sinking down in Steve’s grasp so he can no longer paw at you.

“Gross!”

“Take it inside-“

“Really? With us right here?”

Steve’s hands leave your skin, coming up to give the kids an annoyed wave.

“Alright, alright. We’re going in, ok?”

You shift and let him slide out from underneath you. Peaking up at him, his figure blocks out the sun from your eyes as it casts him in shadow. You give him a guilty smile and he rolls his eyes towards the kids before giving you a smirk. He extends his hand to help you up and he truly does look angelic in that moment. Sun casting him in a yellow glow, hair a bit wind swept, smiling down at you. You thank whatever god brought him to you and accept his hand.

Pulling you up and into his chest, Steve reaches for your necklace, the necklace he got you last Christmas. He fusses with it a little and he’s so close you can’t stand it. His face is concentrated, the tip of his tongue just peaking out and a small wrinkle has formed in between his brows. You wish you could take his face and kiss every inch of it… or lick it… or bite it….

His burnt nose is scrunched just a little and you so desperately want to reach out and smooth away the creases, apply some sunscreen. You’ve never wanted to baby anyone before, but Steve pulled something maternal from you.

“There.” He says it so carefully, so timid and soft, you would have sworn he never said anything at all. But when you raked up his face and met his eyes, you could see the attention there. The crinkles at the edges of his eyes from his side smile, the sparkle of love in his gaze that he only gave to you. “It was twisted a little.” He gestured to your chest, which held the small, gold pendant, S.H. engraved on the front.

You bring your fingers up to feel it and give him a thankful smile before he’s grabbing both sides of your head carefully and bringing your forehead to his lips.

“Ewwwwwwww-“

“Hey! No more kissing-“

“You guys are gross-“

Steve pulls back with an annoyed look, lips pursed and eyes closing for a second, trying to contain himself. He leans around you, shooting them an exasperated look, then turns back to you with an incredulous expression.

Grabbing your book and the cups, he slings an arm over you shoulders and plants a chaste kiss to your temple, fixing the kids with a ‘say something, I dare you’ look.

Slowly, he starts walking you towards the house, leaning over his shoulder to yell back at the kids.

“You shitheads better be outta here by 5:30 or I’m calling all your parents!”

All he got in return were a few mumbles and a lackluster “whatever” before they were bickering amongst themselves once again.

He waved an unenthusiastic hand over his shoulder before opening the door for you, the cool air from inside hitting your skin and sending goosebumps up your arms.

You head to the kitchen with Steve following behind like a faithful puppy. He drops all your stuff on the kitchen island and props himself against the counter next to you. The refrigerator looks like a haven, and you swing the door open, grabbing a bottle of water and nearly downing the whole thing.

Leaning next to him, you stare unabashedly as Steve follows suit, heading into the fridge and grabbing a drink of his own. He takes a sip, raising his eyebrows at you with his little smirk, eyes never leaving yours.

He sets the drink on the counter, the condensation already pooling onto the linoleum surface as he walks casually towards you. His hands come up beside you, gripping onto the counter, caging you in. He leans down playfully, peering at your lips then darting back up to maintain eye contact.

“So…” he drawled, his own lips now hovering a fraction from your own. You lean your head back a tad, to fix him with a frisky, curious look, waiting for him to continue. “Should we pick up where we left off?”

You gave him a faux clueless look, bringing a finger up to your chin to tap it thoughtfully.

“Hmm, where did we leave off, again?”

He dropped the smile, expression growing serious.

“Remember? You- You wanted me to do that thing-?“

You cut him off with a kiss, quick, but undeniably needy.

Pulling away, you catch his dazed look: eyes closed, lips still slightly parted. He opens his eyes exasperatedly, but he still can’t hide his lovesick smile.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” He nods his head, finally picking up on your taunting, and turns his head to look around the kitchen bashfully with a defeated sigh.

You giggle right next to his ear, placing a light kiss on his jawline and wrapping your arms around him in apology.

“Yeah… I am.” You crinkle your nose at him and smile warmly, rubbing your palms up and down his back. You lean in close, whispering against his neck, “But I do want you to do that thing again.”

He pulls back in a flash eagerly and you can’t help but laugh at his painfully hopeful expression.

“Really?” he asks, eyes wide and excited.

“Yeah,” you giggle.

Next thing you know, he’s dragging you upstairs and locking the door.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington

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sailorharringrove · 2 years

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𝒮𝒸𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹

This is a collection of short Harringrove drabbles from my old Harringrove blog. Some drabbles are pure smut, some are just cute little scenes - in a variety of stages leading up to Steve and Billy being together.

4: In the shed

“Are you sure nobody will see us here?” Billy asked suspiciously as they rounded the house into a overgrown backyard and Steve kept walking towards the shed.

“I’m sure”, Steve called over his shoulder. “It’s a pretty off location and the Hansons are always traveling. Trust me”, he said as he closed the door behind them and switched on the dim light. “Nobody will find us here. Now what did you want to show me..?” His voice trailed off a little at the end there. He knew full well what Billy wanted to show him, and judging by his slow grin he didn’t buy Steve’s innocence for a second. Billy leaned in, and for just a second Steve thought that he would kiss him, but the moment didn’t come. Instead they just stared at each other, Steve eventually dropping his gaze to the other’s lips as if hypnotized. His breath hitched when he felt strong hands work to open his jeans.

“Uh, w-wait”, he managed. The blue eyes narrowed, then softened.

“Don’t chicken out on me now, Harrington”, he said, voice velvet smooth. Steve had no doubt he had used it on a lot of girls. “I’m about to make you feel so good.”

“No, I just meant…” Steve traced his fingers along the edge of Billy’s jeans. “I’d like to do that for you”, he said quietly. Blue eyes widened slightly, tongue flicking out to rest thoughtfully in the corner of his mouth.

“You sure about that? You don’t have to.” For a moment he sounded almost caring, then the leer was back and Steve’s hand was grabbed and pressed against a warm groin. “Not that I’m complaining…” Steve’s smile felt unsure but he wanted it so badly it hurt. Had fantasized about it for days. He sank to his knees and Billy had to get his pants open for him. He hesitantly grasped the already hard cock, felt it pulse in the palm of his hand. Determined to take his time, he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of it, tracing the hard length, mouthing it gently. Billy inhaled sharply, putting his hand on his head but applying no pressure.

“Uhh… yeah, that’s it…” Encouraged, Steve continued at his own pace, eventually reaching the smooth head and found it already slick with precum. Pressing his lips to the sensitive underside, he slowly let it push past and fill his mouth. Gingerly fitting his lips around it, sucking and licking. Above him Billy groaned hoarsely and tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair as he cupped the back of his neck. Leaning forward, he steadied himself with a hand against the wall, slightly hunched hover Steve’s kneeling form. Every small thrust of his hips made his dick touch the back of his throat and he coughed wetly every time. Judging by Billy’s moans, he loved that sound. Billy straightened up and looked down, his face flushed and lips parted in a sneer as he panted, tugging at Steve’s hair.

“Look at me.” A fistful of hair, grabbed just slightly rougher than intended and Steve looked up, wide dark eyes bright and feverish. Tears clinging to his lashes, threatening to fall at any moment as he huffed and coughed but dug his fingers into Billy’s thighs and refused to let go. Not until Billy shuddered and came with a muttered ‘fuck yeah take it come on baby fucking swallow’ punctuated by harsh groans. Steve did his best to swallow all of it, he really did but some still smeared across his chin and he furtively tried to wipe it off as he caught his breath.

And maybe he would have felt self conscious, ashamed even, if Billy hadn’t pulled him up and tucked Steve’s head against his chest. But he did and Steve could have sworn he felt the pressure of a kiss on top of his head.

#harringrove #harringrove smut #steve x billy #smut #billy x steve #what's in the shed billy #scenes from a kinder world

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mcdannowave · 3 years

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#h50 1x19 #wow #surprised #impressed #reaction gif #scott caan #hawaii five 0 #danny williams #precious golden cupcake #h50 bloopers #w/ all that good & slick hair that Steve loved to put his hands on on S1-8..before Danny cut it and Steve pout #such a good looking smol cupcake indeed #''Wow''.Danny said in exasperation.Their kitchen never looked so clean before(he knew that.Bc Steve always made sure to make it spark)#Steve stood up from the floor where he was cleaning the bottom shelfs.rag on his shoulder.''Oh.Hi Danno''#''Uh.Babe.What's going on here?This place is just so..shiny?And.the smell.It's a bit strong smell.like Lime or something''#''Yeah.Wanted to clean the place while you in the North Shore.I think i may have got carried away w/ the cleaning products''He smiled #''I liked''Danny simply put.smiled back at Steve.before putting one of the grocery bags on the table #Danny checked his pockets and grabbed a receipt.He took a look before turning it into a ball and going to the trash can #''Oh.I can throw that out to u.Why don't-...why don't u go get the rest of the bags out of the car?I bet u thre's more''#Danny didn't argue.Just leaving the kitchen and soon the front door.That's when Steve's expression changed.A more serious one #He went to the thrash can.lifting the lid and there it was.in a double (reinforced)trash bag.He picked it quickly and went outside #Putting it next to the bigger trash can.He would dealt w/ that later.''Why did u have to burn?I was gone for 2min...and u did this to me.''#He said in anger to the trash.Steve came back to the kitchen.adding a new trash bag and thinking how his day wasn't what he expected #And all started w/ a ''I'm gonna surprise Danny w/ a cake!''.That turned into an 'almost-fire'.That he cleaned the 'evidences' just in time #Danny went back.more bags in his arms.''That's all.The rest is for Jr's BBQ''.Danny said. approaching Steve.''I missed u''#''I missed u too''.Even thou they spent only some hours apart.They couldn't help but be romantic.That's why the kiss followed right after #All was well.Crise adverted.Danny on his arms.Until...''Uh.Babe.why u smell like smoke?''..Steve only closed his eyes.[''Well...sh***]#headcanon tags #mine

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donutloverxo · 3 years

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Yes captain

Note - this is part three of corrupting a good boy but it's mostly porn so can be read as a standalone as well. Sorry about all the jealousy stuff its just what the muse calls for sometimes. Comments/reblogs are really really appreciated🙏🙏 Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - You ask Steve to keep it on while doing it 👀👀

Warnings - 18+ only explicit sexual content, uniform kink, captain kink, daddy kink, roleplaying, jealousy, insecure reader.

Pairing - CEO!Steve x reader

Word count - 4.5k

“Ooo,” you yelped, trying to run away from his firm grip across your hips.

It only made him hold onto you tighter, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “There’s no where to run, babygirl,” he chuckled at your misery, delivering another harsh slap to your naked bottom.

You shrieked in pain as your flesh burned in agonising, but delicious pleasure. As if you’d ever want to actually run. “I’m sorry, daddy.” Since you were allowed to call him daddy now, which seemed to always make him forgive you, but you added your princess voice just to be safe and not make it any harder on yourself.

“You should’ve thought of that before you decided to make fun of my team, but you had to be a dumb baby and run your mouth,” he scolded you, slapping you twice before slipping a hand between your legs, the squelching noises of him gathering your slick on his fingers made your ears burn.

You had gotten too bored of him watching the game and not paying attention to you so you might’ve said some mean things about his team, but the jokes on him since your diabolical plan seemed to have worked.

You had gotten too lost in slight tinge of pain in the roots of your hair, that he was pulling, and his fingers teasing your core, you yelped forward when he slapped your pussy, gasping as you throbbed for more of it.

“Honey,” Steve shook your arm causing you to jolt awake.

You had a habit of talking or mumbling nonsense in your sleep and since he was a light sleeper it usually woke him up. He found your incoherent rambles and the little faces you made in your sleep cute, they were particularly intense tonight for some reason, and while he loved you with all his heart he was not about to let you talk nonsense about the Yankees.

“What? Where?” you sat up, rubbing the soft sheen of sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand.

“You were talking in your sleep, sweetheart,” Steve said, rubbing his hand up and down your back, “Come here.” He circled a hand around your waist, pulling you down and back against his chest, kissing the back of your head, “What were you dreaming about, hm?”

“Um...” you blinked, “How much of it did you hear?”

“You think your so clever, don’t you,” he teased, pinching the side of your hip as you giggled.

“Yes, I’m very smart.”

You shut your eyes, ready to go back to dreamland and to your daddy, who was just a version of Steve who liked being called daddy. Which was something Steve would never be into. Not that you’d ever admit to having such a shameful kink.

But you felt Steve grind his excitement against your ass, “You wanna go back to sleep, or...?” he asked, biting the shell of your ear before snaking a hand up your cami to grope your breast.

“You woke me up with such debauch intention?!” you gasped in fake incredulity. Deciding to indulge him and that any time spent with normal real Steve was much better than being with dream daddy Steve.

***

You fixed his tie, tightening it just a bit around his neck. His golden hair was smoothed back, your eyes caught a glimpse of his rosy pink lips. So pouty and perfect. You could spend hours just looking at them, his smile was what truly made you fall for him. But you pulled away when he tried to steal a kiss from you.

“Gloss,” you argued, puckering your lips. Instantly feeling guilty as his pink ones pouted, giving you his sweet puppy eyes.

“Come on, doll, just one kiss? Don’t you wanna wish me luck?” He bent to capture your lips but you moved your head away at the last second, making him groan as his nose bumped against your cheek.

“I spent over two hours getting ready for this!” you huffed, smoothening a hand over your puffy tulle dress, finally having a chance to wear it out in public.

“Did you just smudge my blush?” Gasping, as you looked into the mirror, picking up your rouge and patting it on again.

You loved the dress Steve had gotten you for Christmas, it was so pretty and princess and you felt like Cinderella wearing it.

But it was too... girl-ish, Steve had insisted that you wear it. So he could show off his beautiful new wife.

Tonight though, you had to look like a woman.

A strong woman.

Who is not to be fucked around with. And not someone who is vulnerable and weak.

Because you knew she was going to be there.

“You always look gorgeous,” he mumbled, looking in the mirror and patting his hair to make sure it was in place.

You had convinced him to grow it out. Having more courage to express yourself since the Christmas gift mishap a couple of months ago.

Tucking a loose golden strange behind his ear, you wondered how someone as breathtakingly as beautiful as him could be yours.

But as beautiful as Steve was, he could also be naive. He wanted to see the best in people, which often didn’t let him see what was right in front of him.

How his ex Peggy had been trying to cause problems between you two from day one.

At first she had welcomed you with open arms, with a treacherous smile her red lips had told you that she wanted to be best friends with you. Taking you to the MET museum, of which she was a board member, asking your help in organising a couple of galas and the fundraisers. Shopping with you to make you more presentable to be a CEO’s wife

You were prepared to be wary of her. The fact that Steve was still good friends with his ex, who he had dated for more than five years, didn’t exactly sit well with you, you knew you’d face some troubles there, but then you met her and spent time with her you knew that you did had nothing to worry about.

That was until she, and Steve’s mother, had tried to get you to sign a pre-nup before you both got married.

While Sarah was always nice, you could always sense a tinge of hostility, your intuition told you how she preferred Peggy over you and would much rather have her as Steve’s wife.

With a heavy heart you had told Steve you couldn’t do it. That there was no point in getting married if you would end up divorced eventually. You were ready to cut your losses then, to pack your bags and go home, preparing for the worst. But he understood and said that he wouldn’t be marrying you if he didn’t trust you.

You were glad to have worked out everything, but decided to play nice with ‘Judas', whom you learned had infamously betrayed Jesus from a mass you attended with Steve and Sarah, and pretend that you didn’t know anything about her betrayal.

You shook your head, there was no point in letting her ruin your night, or dictate what you wore. The dress was what you liked and who you were, there was no reason for you to pretend to be like her. Steve liked you because you were nothing like her,

....probably.

You looked over to Steve, tugging his pants up and securing them, you had never once thought you’d be someone who’d have a thing for men in uniforms, they were simply doing their jobs, what the fuck was sexy about uniforms anyway, but that was until you saw your Steve in his...

He really could pull off any color, even something as boring as army green, his chest and built looked almost too broad. Numerous medals adorning his chest. He certainly looked the part of a soldier.

He kissed your temple when he caught you staring at him and you only hoped he couldn’t decipher what was going on in that horny brain of yours.

Steve rarely ever talked about his days in the army. If he did it was about the friends he made and the good times he shared with them. And how army whipped him in shape, made him the man he was.

He had been honorably discharged a couple of years ago, all his army friends only ever spoke highly of him--which wasn’t really surprising.

***

“Hello, darling,” she smiled to you in her classy British accent, kissing your cheek before hugging you, “How have you been? Haven’t seen you since new years!”

“I’m good and you look amazing.”

Which wasn’t a complete lie, she did look elegant in her uniform, a lot similar to Steve’s but her coat had flares at the end which gave it a more feminine feel than that of Steve’s.

“So do you,” she beamed, “Oh, you have a little something,” she gestured to the corner of your mouth before wiping some white frosting from your cupcake off with her thumb as you tried to keep your face from cringing.

So far the strong woman act wasn’t coming along so well...

“So...how is married life?”

Wouldn’t you like to know. “It’s very good. You know Steve, he’s just amazing. I’m lucky to have him.”

“Oh, I did heard about your little goof with your erotica from Natalie, and the gift slip up!” she laughed, hooking her arm around yours, she walked with you towards your husband. “And here I was thinking you are a good girl,” she winked.

“I... guess I’m not...”

“I must say though, unfortunately for you I don’t think Steve would like any of that. He’s always been so traditional,” she rolled her eyes, “He has an old soul.”

Yes, you knew that. You knew that he was traditional and an old soul. Of course You did, he was your husband. Why she felt the need to point out the obvious was beyond you. “Well, you know people can be unpredictable,” you countered.

“Yes, well you’re free to explore of course, I just didn’t want you to get your feelings hurt,” she put a hand over yours.

“Peggy,” Steve greeted her.

“Oh don’t mind us. We’re just gossiping about you,” she smirked.

“Really?” he looked over at you with a quizzical face, “All good things I hope.”

“I don’t have anything bad to say about you,” you said giving Peggy a side eye, “Can we dance? Please?”

It didn’t take a lot of convincing because he loved dancing. After a couple of dances it was time for him to give his speech.

Seeing your husband up on the stage, hearing everyone talk about his accomplishments made your heart swell in pride. You really couldn’t believe you were married to someone like him.

You suppose that you understood where Sarah was coming from. It would make sense for someone like Steve to fall for and marry a classy worldly lady like Peggy. There really wasn’t much you could offer him.

***

“Steve,” you huffed, trying to yank on the zipper for like the tenth time, while you loved the dress you needed to get out of it and breathe for a while.

“Yes, doll?” he called for you, entering your closet, smiling at your struggling form. “How can I help?”

“You can get me out of this thing!” you said, turning your back to him.

You were really feeling yourself tonight, you had gotten a facial and a manipedi, a blowout, spending hours on getting ready for battle. You thought you looked good and fierce. But then you took off your makeup and your extensions and were reminded of how Peggy was much more effortlessly beautiful than you. She had often been dubbed as a ‘natural beauty’.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is something bothering you?” he asked as he unzipped you.

“No. Will you let me change now?” you turned around, to politely ask him to leave.

“You’ve changed in front of me before.”

“Yes, well I can’t right now.”

“Why not?” he frowned.

“Because...” You couldn’t stop your eyes from turning misty, “I’m ugly...”

“What? Who told you that?” His face instantly flushed with anger as he held onto your forearms, and when you didn’t push him away he pulled you in closer to his chest.

“No one needs to. I know it because I’m not blind,” you confessed, the cool metal of his medal digging into your cheek.

“Then maybe we need to get your eye sight checked. Because you’re the prettiest girl in this whole world. I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.” He stroked your hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“You’ll have to fight the whole world then.”

“If it comes to that then I will.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how protective he was. Propping your chin up on his chest you blinked at him. “Why didn’t you marry Peggy? She’s so much more beautiful.” Your heart was heavy with so many emotions, usually you wouldn’t give in and ask something so dangerous--a question you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to.

Judging by the frown on his face, you were afraid that you had upset him, but then it softened as his pale baby blues twinkled at you, “Why would you say that, doll? Peggy is beautiful, but I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I could never even dream of marrying anyone else.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I know I shouldn’t be comparing myself to others.”

“You really shouldn’t. They don’t measure up to you anyway,” he teased.

“It’s just...” you gulped, not being able to hold his gaze you played with the olive green buttons on his coat, “I heard at the party from Tony, that she will be working with you from now on. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“You don’t trust me?” his voice cracked.

You whipped your head up, frantically shaking your head from side to side, “No no of course I do! I’m just saying it’s a risky game. To be around her so much... what if old feelings resurface?”

Your heart almost broke as he let go of you, putting some distance between you both, “You know all I ever ask for is that you trust me... and love me. I don’t think it’s a lot.”

You scoffed, “Yeah well, I don’t think me asking you not to work with your ex is a lot. No woman would be okay with her husband spending that much time with her ex.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Why can’t I get through to you?”

“Maybe try speaking at a fourth grade level. Then I’ll understand. Since I don’t have a masters in literature from Sorbonne,” you rolled your eyes. Maybe he was intimidated by how smart Peggy is and decided to go for someone younger and dumber.

“I’ve never... been in love with Peggy or anyone but you really,” he told you, his broad shoulders hunching as he let out a sigh, “Not the way I’m in love with you. We were always more like friends than... lovers.”

“Is that better or worse?” you wondered out loud. Isn’t it important for husband and wife to be friends as well? Was that supposed to be a compliment?

“It’s much better. We would go months without seeing each other, and I didn’t miss her. Like I miss you when I’m at work. I can’t wait to get away and come home to you. Peggy is amazing, and I’ll always have a special place for her in my heart, but I would never even think about cheating on you.

But... I understand where you’re coming from. Maybe I would react the same way if you were to work with an ex. So I can just tell her that she’ll have to work with Nat, or someone else.”

“No,” you blurted.

Absolutely not.

Because A - You really did trust Steve not to stray. He wasn’t that type of man. And B - That would be admitting defeat. Admitting to her that you are afraid of her.

“I do trust you, Steve. I think... I just need to work on myself. If we don’t have trust then we don’t have anything right?”

“I trust you too, honey,” he kissed your forehead. “Just talk to me about this stuff okay? You can’t keep it bottled up.” You nodded as he worked on loosening his tie.

“Um... is that uncomfortable?” you asked, watching him pop open the first button of his shirt.

“The uniform? A little. It’s been a while since I put it on.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t wear it at our wedding.” You smiled. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t. While he looked so handsome in the black tux he had worn, the uniform would’ve made him irresistible. You would’ve spent the whole evening swooning over him.

“It didn’t feel right, I just wanted to be myself. Uh... doll,” he quirked a brow as he caught you staring at his crotch, “Hey,” he snapped his fingers, “My eyes are up here.”

“Yes, um, of course,” you whipped your head up as soon as you heard him, since you were too busy trying to make out the outline of his johnson, “And what beautiful eyes you have!”

“Tell me something. What is your obsession with this uniform?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You decided to feign ignorance.

“Really? You’ve been staring at me all night. Do you not like it? Do you like it? Sometimes I think I don’t understand women at all.”

You probably would’ve appreciated his suit even more so if you hadn’t spent so much time festering in your jealousy. “I think... it’s... kinda hot,” you sighed dreamily as he blushed a crimson red. “You’re like this big strong Captain, and I’m like this small woman, like a damsel in distress type of thing.”

“Oh.” Was the only thing that he said. He never believed you would be into something like that, not from all the feminist rants you tend to go on.

“Oh god. You think I’m a weirdo, don’t you?” You put your hands over your face to hide it from him.

“No no, hey, don’t be like that,” he cooed, pulling your hands away so he could look at your pretty face, “I can be your... big, strong Captain. And you can be my damsel in distress.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. So... how would it work? Do I save you from a burning building or something?”

“No, sweetie. You’re thinking of a fireman.”

“Oh, right,” he blushed, scratching the back of his neck, “We can do the fireman thing if you like. I can... be a fireman.”

“Steve, we don’t have to do anything.”

“I know. But I want to. Come on! Give me something to work with.”

“Okay,” you cleared your throat. “How about... you keep the suit on?”

“On for how long?” he tilted his head like a cute confused puppy, looking down at his suit, “Oh! You mean on while we’re...”

“Yes. And I could, I don’t know, thank you for serving my country.”

“Yeah. I mean medals and all are nice, but I want a special kind of thanks from you, doll.”

“Ooo,” you felt up his biceps through his coat and shirt, he really was strong. “Do you have anything specific in mind?” you asked, batting your lashes.

“Um... yes.... You get on your knees, miss... I mean ma’am, shit,” he cursed as he awkwardly stumbled over his words. “What do I call you? Are you my wife in this scenario?”

“You can just call me doll, captain. I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” you smiled, cheekily pressing your lips to his in a quick peck but he held onto your waist before you could pull away. Sliping his tongue inside your mouth.

“Alright then, doll. Show me how grateful you are,” he puffed his chest out, so he could appear a bit more dominant.

You only giggled, taking your dress off because there was no way you could kneel in so much tulle.

Standing before him in just a strapless bra and a nude thong, you were vulnerable, but not scared anymore. He was your captain, he’d never ridicule you.

“I’m already feeling appreciated,” he said as he ogled you.

You dropped down to your knees, unbuckling him with some help from him, “It’s so big,” you gasped when you looked at his length, pretending to be seeing it for the first time. Although, you were still always surprised with the sheer monstrosity of it.

“We’ll make it fit, doll. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” he smiled, tapping on your mouth, “Open,” he commanded.

You’re a natural, captain. You took a deep breath before opening wide. You’d been having sex regularly for the past three months or so, he had gone down on you more times than you could count, you felt as if he could live between your legs if he could. But he had never once asked you to return the favor, you didn’t have it in you to be the first one to bring it up either.

Licking your lips, you tasted someone of the preejaculate leaking out of his tip before wrapping your mouth around his head, moaning at the salty taste and the essence of him.

“That’s... ugh,” he groaned, “That’s good. Keep going,” he spurred you on, a hand on the back of your head giving you the slightest bit of push.

You took as much of him as you could, stopping halfway through when he hit the back of your throat, you pumped the rest of his length with your palm, holding onto his thick thigh for support, you bobbed your head, increasing your pace when he started moaning loudly.

Rubbing your thighs together to relive some pressure, your throbbing core desperate for some attention and friction, you knew your panties were ruined.

You had read your fair share of cosmos, and the many sex tips they offered, you knew they’d come in handy someday. You swore you remembered reading something about balls... to suck them? Bite them?

You fondled his balls, feeling him tightening in your palm, you were ready to swallow all of you. That was the only proper way of saying thank you.

“Wait,” he growled, pulling you off of him.

You looked up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, doll,” he heaved, “But I gotta come in your pussy.”

Your jaw dropped, to hear the golden boy using such filthy language. “Whatever you say, captain,” you rasped.

Gasping when he yanked you up, pulling you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bed before throwing you down on the mattress.

Although Steve had always been dominant in bed, it was somewhat lowkey and subtle, he was never rough with you, he treated you as if you were made of glass, right now he was treating you as if you were literally a ragdoll.

“Take off your panties,” he ordered you.

You followed quickly, desperate to have him inside you asap, rolling your thing down your thighs and then getting rid of your bra before he even had to ask. You looked at him through your lashes, waiting patiently for his next command.

He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Now touch yourself.” It had always been a wet dream of his to watch you, instruct you as you got yourself off. Since your intention was to please him... he might as well make most of it.

You blinked at him before nodding, “Yes, captain.”

Fondling your breast you pinched your nipple, pulling on it before hissing exaggeratedly, smirking when you saw his hand twitch to touch you.

“What do I do?” you looked up at him with big doe eyes.

He shook his head, circling a hand around your wrist he shoved two of your fingers inside your mouth, “Suck,” he told you. “You like having your mouth stuffed, don’t you?” he asked as you noisily suckled on his fingers.

You shamelessly nodded, hoping that you’d get more opportunities to suck his cock from now on, he pulled your fingers out, bringing them down between your legs, pushing them into your willing channel. His own thumb rubbing on your clit working you up even moreso.

You threw your head back as you felt your climax approaching. “So close... captain.”

But he pulled your hand away from your pussy, tutting at your disobedience, “I didn’t tell you you could come.” He shook your head, giving you a minute to catch your breath before pushing two of his, much larger fingers inside you, “Gotta get you ready, doll. Since you’re so small.”

“Oh! It’s too much...” you moaned, holding onto the bedding.

“How're you gonna take my dick then, doll,” you watched as he licked your slick off of his fingers, “You taste like heaven, honey.”

“Thank you, captain.”

He unbuttoned his coat, he would be much freer without it and fuck you properly like you deserved.

You rolled your eyes when he folded his coat setting down on the floor, when you were literally lying naked before him with your legs spread wide, waiting as his tie and pants followed, “Really?” you scoffed.

“Can’t have them getting dirty, doll.” He knelt on the bed, now only in his shirt, spreading your legs a bit further so he could make room for himself, nudging your intimate lips apart with his length before slowing sinking into you.

He stayed like that for a bit, inside your heat, it felt as if he would explode then and there but he had to savor the moment. To have such a pretty girl wrapped around him.

Hovering over you he placed his elbows on sides of your head so he wouldn’t put too much of his weight on you, and so he could look at your as he fucked you.

He moved his hips against yours, rocking slow and steady, “You like that, doll?”

“Yes,” you nodded as he pulled on your hair to bare your neck to him. Biting your neck to mark you as his, “Do it harder, please, captain.”

“Harder?” he spoke against your neck, pinning both your hands above your head as he started rigorously pounding into you. “That hard enough?”

You were too fucked out to give a coherent answer, or to do anything but nod pathetically and take whatever he gave you.

“Ima come...” you clenched around him as your orgasm washed over you, rendering you immobile and weightless.

He thrusted into you a couple of times before filling you up to the brim - just as he had promised.

“Thank you, doll. That was really nice,” he smiled, laying beside you and pulling you closer to him, he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, captain. You sure know how to treat a lady right...”

“Maybe we can do this more often,” he suggested as you nodded in reply.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Shout out to my friend lizzygal (you can find her on ao3) who gave me the idea of Steve folding his uniform. It was too hilarious to leave out! Thanks for reading.

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#corrupting a good boy #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

FATWS One Shot #5 - Reminiscing

Word Count: 1195

Warnings: Mention of The Fall, Cursing, Teasing, Fluff, Not Much Else

Setting/Characters: Takes place before they moved to D.C., so before Stars, Stripes, and Bubbles and CA:TWS; In New York City; Reader, Steve Rogers

A/N: I didn’t post any writing today so I whipped this up because I wanted to at least put a dent in the One Shot list. I know it’s a bit out of order, but I got this request and I wanted to make it separate from the movie scenes because I felt like Steve would’ve told her this before. They also hadn’t visited the museum yet, obviously, or else she’d know about him already. It’s just a cute little thing about the good ole days. It’s a bit shorter, but there wasn’t much more to add and I like it the way it is.

I’ll try posting more this week; I’m babysitting my little cousin tomorrow and Tuesday, but I’m off work Wednesday, so I’ll be able to write more then. The next One Shot is already being worked on; it’s back in order so it’s gonna take place during TWS. I have to update the One Shot list to accommodate the ideas brainstormed between myself, a couple friends, and you lovely readers.

This isn’t beta’d, as usual, so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this one, thank you for reading, and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You let out a wolf whistle, leaning on the back of Steve’s chair. “Who is that? He’s pretty cute. You know, for someone from a hundred years ago.”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes at you with a smile on his lips. It fell when he looked back down at the black and white picture that was fraying at the ends and had a tint to it from the time it’s spent on the earth. The young man you were pointing at, probably mid-20s if you had to guess, was grinning at the camera, looking sharp in an Army uniform, hat tilted on his head.

“That’s…Bucky.”

“Bucky?” You snickered, but then you caught sight of the far off look in Steve’s eye and found yourself frowning. “Who was he?”

“He was…” Steve sighed, leaning back into the chair, his head falling back onto your forearm. “He was my best friend.”

You set your chin on his shoulder, looking at another picture, yellowing with time. He was in that one too, over to the side with a cigarette in his mouth, his arm around two other soldiers, dark hair slicked back. You had heard about the Howling Commandos, who you were guessing were the other guys in the photo. Everyone learned about them in history class in grade school. Captain America and his Commandos fighting against HYDRA, beating the Nazis and saving the day. “Did you meet in Italy?”

“No.” Steve shook his head, carefully setting down the beat up picture. “We…we met when we were kids. We grew up together. In Brooklyn.”

Humming, you studied him, noting the tightened jaw and the crease in his brow, you looked down and tilted your head, spotting another picture of the two of them smiling. Tracing it gently, you tenderly inquired, “he meant a lot to you?”

“He was my brother. He was always there for me. At my lowest, he held me up. I never was truly alone. I always had him.”

You could hear the grief in his voice as he spoke in adoration about the man, frozen in time with a smile on his face in a frame to protect him from fading. “What happened?” You asked softly, running your fingers through Steve’s gold locks that were falling in his eyes.

Steve gave a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. “A mission went sideways. To catch Zola?” He looked up at you to see if you had read about that particular operation of theirs in a file somewhere. You nodded, remembering vaguely the mission he was talking about.

“A train in the Alps, right? I thought you caught him, though.”

The man nodded, sad eyes avoiding your gaze. “We did. But…we were ambushed. Bucky…Bucky and I were separated. I tried to get to him…I couldn’t-” He stopped talking, closing his eyes to compose himself. “He fell and I couldn’t reach him in time.”

“Steve…” you shook your head, scratching that spot at the nape of his neck you knew helped him relax. “It wasn’t your fault, bubs.” He opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it and nodded. “May I?”

He nodded again when you gestured to the box he had on the desk in front of him, letting you look through the other pictures he had. “Tell me about him.”

The blonde gave a little chuckle, smiling fondly at the memories spinning around in his brain. “He was a jerk. He always tried to keep my outta trouble. We met after some kids tried stealing my lunch money. I-I kinda tried fighting them. He beat ‘em up for me.”

“You never did like bullies.”

He grinned at you. “No…no I didn’t. There was this one time…”

You leaned your cheek against his shoulder and watched his face light up as he told you stories about him and Bucky being boys. Playing in the mud, racing through Central Park, going to Coney Island, eating ice cream, sitting on the fire escape.

“He used to read to me. A lot. When I got sick and stuff. He liked reading. He told me it was his way of taking me somewhere without getting outta bed. I used to draw him scenes from his favorite books while listening. It gave me something to do with my hands. That’s why I picked it up. I could do it from bed.”

“Did he draw too?”

“Hell no! Pal could barely draw a stick figure! I made him take this art class with me and all he did was mope about it because it was the only class he had trouble in. But it was our agreement; he could take me to the gym he went to if he came with me to class.”

You giggled at the image of scrawny little Steve in a gym. “You went to a gym?”

He gave you a bemused look. “You’re not funny. Yes I went to a gym. I didn’t do much. Bucky trained a lot though. He was the YMCA welterweight champion three years in a row.”

“No kidding.” You picked up a picture of Bucky sitting on a couple steps, a t-shirt tucked into pants being held up by suspenders. “Look at those arms.”

“Shuddup!” Steve laughed, pushing you playfully.

You sniggered. “I’m just saying. I bet he got all the ladies.”

“Are you kidding? Dames lined up at the door to dance with him. You would’ve too,” he poked your side. “If you lived back then.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “He’s cute, but I’d much rather watch you draw.”

Steve snorted. “Trust me. You’d be singing a different tune if you met him. You would’ve liked him. He would’ve liked you.” He went quiet, his expression morphing into one of contemplation.

“Well anyone willing to stand up and hang out with that stubborn kid from Brooklyn has my vote.” You joked, ruffling his locks.

Steve didn’t say anything. He just looked at you for a minute, before turning back to the pictures and starting to clear them away. “I’m gonna put these away and we can go for that run, alright?”

You nodded, getting off of him and stretching. “Alright. But you can’t lap me again!” He chortled at that, smirking not so innocently. “I’m so serious, Rogers! That was mean! I feel so out of shape when you do that!”

“Alright, alright. I won’t honey. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss to your knuckles. “And you’re beautiful no matter what, okay?”

“Sure, bubba.”

“I mean it!”

You smiled at his insistence, his eyebrow knit together in seriousness. “Okay. Meet me outside when you’re done.”

“Yes ma’am!” He nodded, spinning back to his keepsakes and adding as an afterthought, “wanna go see a moving picture?”

You gave him an amused look, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Stevie. I’d love to go see a movie with you.”

He blushed, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Movies. Right.”

“Don’t worry about it, Steve. It’s endearing.” You winked at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Now hurry up. I wanna get out there before it gets too hot.”

****************

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading @bibliophilewednesday @breadqueen95 @marvelettesassemble @w-wolfhxrd

#cjswriting #fatws series oneshots #fatws series oneshot 5 #fatws series #falcon and the winter soldier series oneshots #reminiscing oneshot #💛🧭#❤🐦💙🦾⏪#steve rogers x reader #kinda

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billys-mullet · 3 years

Text

"you want to w h a t!?"

"sshhh!"

tw; w/tersports

billy's glare scared away the curious eyes that shot in their direction. sounds of running water and the raucous that tended to follow practice sessions filled the locker room for a moment. and when it appeared that nothing more was going to come from the outburst the gazes turned away. brown bored into blue as billy glared.

it was stupid to have brought this up in a crowded place, but it had been weighing heavy on his mind ever since he saw his ridiculously charming boyfriend yakking away at stephanie's party last week, all eyes within a ten foot radius trained on him. nevermind that steve had supposedly fallen from grace; people still flocked to him for his charisma and his pretty face. there wasn't anybody steve harrington couldn't charm. and that became extremely evident in the way tanya harris had been plastered against his side, giggling away at every little detail of the story steve was weaving.

so maybe billy was jealous. maybe he was a little possessive. maybe he wanted to mark his territory in the most animalistic of ways —

yeah, okay, maybe it was a little weird. the heat clawing up the back neck wasn't caused by the shitty spray coming from the showerhead.

steve breathed heavily behind the palm that billy had slapped over his mouth. they glared at one another for a long minute, and then billy's hand fell back against his side.

'not a word,' his scowl snapped.

'we're talking about this,' steve's glower replied.

billy would rather walk out of the room — but he knows steve will follow. they'll make a scene, one that probably wont end in flying fists like it should. they're past that now. have been for a few months. not even the illusion of the 'shaky friendship' they're putting forward would be enough to keep rumors from spreading.

billy's glare slides to the side and they slow down the pace of their showering until the locker room eventually empties aside from the pair. the door hasn't even shut all the way before steve is turning to explode on him:

"you want to /pee/ on me!?"

"it's not —"

"don't. don't you 'it's not like that' me. what else can it be!? there's nothing else it could be!"

"at least i asked first before whipping out my dick and just /doing/ it."

"you're disgusting."

"yeah? you like it."

steve's silence and the purse of his lips betray that he does, indeed, like billy... no matter how nasty he is. and, god, he was nasty.

"why...? why is that even a thing?"

"it's..." billy feels stupid. this was a stupid thing to ask for. but his boyfriend is hot. and sometimes his mouth got the better of him when he was spewing filth and things just came out, things he should have kept tucked away, things that should never ever see the light of day.

like this, like now. billy begins gathering up his bag, turning away from steve. nevermind. he shouldn't have brought it up. there must be some kind of look on his face because a hand slides up his wet arm and wraps around his bicep.

"billy... you have to talk to me. we're working on that, remember?"

"shut up."

"hey... hey, come here. i'm sorry, okay? i'm sure there's a reason. i'm sure, um, i'm sure we all have our kinks. just... explain it to me."

steve was so— billy didn't deserve him. he should leave this locker room without looking back, make steve crawl after him like a begging bitch.

"iwanttopeeonyoubecausei'mjealous."

"huh?"

"christ, harrington... you're killing me."

"you said it too fast!"

"i want to pee on you because i'm jealous!"

"...wh–... why? that doesn't even–"

"i saw you talking to tanya the other day and she was making these... these..." billy's voice is a breathless rush, "stupid goo-goo eyes at you. it pissed me off. and i cant stop thinking that... you know, you're /mine/. and i can't prove that in any way. and nobody knows. so if i were to just do something, like if i were to mark you then–"

steve's eyebrows furrow closer and closer together the longer than billy rambles. and then they suddenly shoot up.

"like a dog?"

"huh?"

"like a dog. they pee to mark their territory. is that...?"

"you calling me a bitch?"

"something like that." but steve is grinning. the hackles on the back of billy's neck lower. he's scowling, eyes narrowed where they glare at steve. he wants to mop the floor with the smile.

"fuck you."

"i'm sorry! come here. c'mere, i'm sorry. you set yourself up for that one."

as angry as billy is, he allows steve to gather him in his arms. their bodies slide against one another, slick from the spray still raining down on them. steve's mouth finds his easily, their lips moving together in a chaste press before billy pulls away. he's still trying to run, but the leg steve wraps around his waist keeps him rooted.

"fine."

billy's eyebrow arches.

"fine. you can pee on me."

"fuck off."

"i mean it! i mean it, billy. i'm not joking." steve's eyes are wide and sincere. billy rolls his own before going to untangle himself from their embrace. steve still won't let him. he hops up and wraps /both/ legs around billy's waist, taking him hy surprise and causing the two of them to nearly go toppling to the ground. billy barely managed to wrap his arm around that dotted waist, the way he stumbled forward causing them to rest against the tilted shower wall.

"this is as good of a place as any, right? no mess to clean up after. so just... do it. stop looking at me and do it. i'm not going to make fun of you anymore, i promise." steve is breathing a little heavy, though it's unclear if that was from excitement or from the fact that they had nearly busted ass.

billy can't look. the way his hands tremble and his own unsteady breaths betray him. he knows he should be cocky and sure but this is — it's a lot. too much. yet steve was still understanding and too damn sweet for his own good. billy loves him. he hasn't ever said it out loud but he hopes steve knows that.

"c'mon, bills. it's okay." a hand buries itself in the back of his head, scratching at his scalp. it's all the encouragement he needs.

a little maneuvering has the head of billy's dick trapped at the juncture between one of steve's thighs and the softness of his stomach. nerves bite him in the ass, but so does excitement. and it's hard to keep from getting, well, /hard/ when he's got slick wet skin against his own, the smell of steve's shampoo making him lightheaded. he's vaguely aware that steve murmurs words of encouragement against his temple.

it takes him a moment to actually do it. there's a visible jerk to his dick, body shuddering, and then relief floods his lower stomach while ropes of liquid heat spill over a dotted thigh, trickling down over his hip and along his ass.

billy buries his face in the softness of steve's throat, teeth gnawing a bruise. can't help himself as he murmurs a litany of, "mineminemine" as his bladder empties and a different kind of relief fills him. it's the nastiest thing he's ever done. it's the best thing he's ever done.

and steve—

gasps. goes taut. makes the strangest sound in the back of his throat when the warmth trickles over his skin. it might be from the way billy's got a hand fisted in the back of his hair, keeping him pulled close, but billy is selfish and wants to think it's because he's getting off on this too.

"g– od... billy..."

a grunt is the only response steve gets. billy's bladder had emptied itself but he refuses to pull away from his hiding spot.

"billy," steve whines, tugging on the back of his head until he gets the idea. their mouths slot together in another kiss, sloppy and full of teeth. steve rolls his hips forward, half-hard dick sliding against billy's stomach, and it's enough to have his own fattening up where it's still enveloped in velvety tightness.

"that was hot. i've n– never seen you... like that. you really want me that bad?" a strand of dark hair sticks to steve's forehead. his own eyes are heavy with need, lips a swollen pink from their kiss. he slides forward again and makes that noise from earlier, head falling back against the wall. billy wants to devour him.

their bodies move together without any rhythm, nothing but the thought of chasing pleasure in their minds. steve finishes first, his yelp echoing off the walls. billy paints his hip white with a muffled groan a few seconds after, fingers biting into his backside.

they haven't even caught their breaths before steve is leaning down and whining a pathetic, "again."

#harringrove #steve #billy #writing #my fics #lemon #please heed the warning!#this is nasty #sort of #lmao #based on another headcanon of mine #oopsie

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

watch your six - part five

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (they’re together in the next chapter i stg)

warnings: language (several f bombs bc i feel like bucky would be liberal w them), sam and bucky being little shits, bad nicknames,

word count: just under 2500

a/n: long awaited but it’s finally here! i’m super proud of this one :) i hope y’all like it also this was the first time i’ve written something like this so constructive criticism please. i hope i did the characters justice

p.s.: my requests are still open babes! i’m working on the next part of this series and also possibly continuing TFCL ;) my tag lists are still open as well

please like and reblog if you enjoyed the story

xoxo ray

series m.list

ray’s m.list

***********************************

The tension in the room was palpable. “What do you mean you know her, Buck?” Steve questioned. Bucky’s eyes were flitting around the room, landing on each face of bewilderment. He honestly didn’t know what he meant but that, it kind of just came out. Where the fuck did that come from? Who is this woman?

“Uh, hello? What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Sam interjected quickly, to which he received a sharp glare from both Bucky and Steve. Sam shrugged his shoulders and a quiet snort was heard from across the room.

“He’s got a point, Terminator.” Tony said as he plopped himself into one of the rollie chairs. “You can’t just say something like that and then not explain it.” Bucky’s brows furrowed and he expelled a grunt as his response to Tony.

“Bucky, you’ve got to give us something to go on here.” Natasha said calmly as she eyed an increasingly agitated Bucky.

Since coming back from Wakanda and being brought into the compound, Steve, Sam and Natasha have learned how to read Bucky. Steve has always been able to read the one hundred and six year old, they have shared life experience. Natasha was is a trained master assassin, trained in the Red Room by the Winter Soldier. One of her most valuable skills is her ability to read the emotions of anyone around her. And Sam, well he still leads a support group down at the VA. Being a war-torn veteran himself, he knows what it’s like to have to deal with the memories.

“Look, I don’t know what I meant by it.” Bucky finally said, throwing his hands above his head in exasperation. “It just came out, ya know? I didn’t process it before I said it and now, it’s out there. And to top it off, I don’t have the fucking memories there to back it up. They’re definitely there, but they aren’t just presenting themselves to me on a silver platter.” The group around him silenced.

Bucky was known for being the quiet, brooding type. His murder stare was comically famous around the compound. Sam constantly picked on Bucky about it, so hearing the man spout more than a few words at a time was a shocking experience for all of them.

“You know, there is a way that we can know what even your own mind doesn’t want you to know.” Tony said, darting his eyes over to Steve, who stood stoically in front of the large monitor.

“Goddamn, Tony! We said this isn’t an episode of FRIENDS!” Sam shouted.

“He won’t like that Tony. You know he won’t.” Natasha cut in quickly.

“But, if it works and it tells us if this woman knows anything, then it’s worth a shot.” Tony shot back.

“Tony. No. He’s already been through that and you want to subject him to it again?” Bucky was listening intently to their conversation, trying to figure out what they were referring to. Natasha seemed adamant that Bucky would not be a fan of whatever it was. Tony, as usual, couldn’t care less.

“What are we talking about?”

“Wanda.”

“Who’s Wanda again?”

“She’s the witch.”

“We have a witch on our team? That’s not possible, there’s no such thing as witches and wizards.”

“Uh, yeah there is, cyborg.”

“No, there's not bird brain.”

“Yeah. There is, dumbass. She’s the one who does the hand thing and then there’s the crazy red glow around her? She’s got long hair? Dating the android?”

“There’s an android on the team?” Bucky was still getting to know everyone on the team, but he was positive he would know if there was a fucking android on the team.

“Yeah, the guy with the yellow glowy thing embedded in his forehead? Do you pay attention at all, Bucky? He’s dating Wanda, the witch with the red glowy hand thing?” Sam was waving his hands in front of his face and gesturing to his forehead.

“There’s no fucking way. Steve? Is there an android on the team?” Bucky turned to Steve, expecting an answer. All of the sudden, a red mass phased through the wall behind Steve. Vision appeared, looking quizzically around the room.

“Did someone ask for me?” His British accent carried through the room, once again causing the room to silence and turn to Bucky. Bucky’s lips were pursed, disgruntled that Sam was once again right in their little squabbles.

“Alright fine, but there’s not a witch right?”

“If you’re referring to Ms. Maximoff, then no. She simply manipulates molecular polarity allowing her to alter the reality around her.” Vision said it as if Bucky was meant to understand it. When in reality, Bucky was still getting over the fact fangirling that there was an android talking to him.

“However, if calling her a witch makes you more comfortable,” Vision paused and turned towards the doorway on the other end of the room, “I believe you should ask her permission before doing so.” He raised his hand causing Bucky to follow its direction.

“Hey Tony. Friday said you wanted to see me?” Wanda glided into the room, doing a quick survey of its occupants. Her gaze eventually landed on the vibrant being beside Steve. “Vis, you left in the middle of us making dinner. We’ve talked about that.”

“Yes, do forgive me, my love. However, I believe your expertise is required outside of the kitchen.” Wanda’s orbs flicked to Steve’s first and then to Tony’s, waiting for instructions.

“We want you to go inside Barnes’ mind and retrieve memories about someone for us.” Tony stated plainly. Bucky’s eyes widened and his fear grew. She can do that? Who the fuck was going to tell me that? Can she read my mind too? Is she listening now?

“That’s not exactly how it works, Tony.”

“It doesn’t matter because I never agreed to that, Stark.” Bucky said firmly. He was tired of his brain being put in a blender. He was finally getting comfortable in his own body again. He was gaining more and more control over his mind every day. Granted, he wasn’t sleeping because of the nightmares.

No, not nightmares, because of the memories. Why the fuck would he willingly subject himself to that during the daylight? No, his pain, though constant, was only to be shown at night, when he was completely alone and there’s no chance that he could hurt anyone else.

“If this is the only way that we can know for sure, then we need to do it.” Tony pushed, “You know I’m right, Cap. After what happened with the Sokovia Accords, even though they aren’t monitoring us as closely as they could be, they’re still watching. And if we storm in there without any good reason to, then it’s our asses on the line.”

“Hey, I don’t remember giving you authority over my brain. So what the fuck gives you the right to try and get me to do this shit?” Bucky stood as he spoke, “You’re heroes, goddamn it. It’s your fucking job to save people who need you to. So you should fucking do it. With or without a goddamn reason, you prick.” He shoved the chair away from him and stormed out of the room, passed Wanda who watched with a pained expression.

“He’s right, Tony.” Steve said quietly.

“About what, Cap?”

“We shouldn’t have to have a reason to do our jobs.”

“All I’m saying is that if he has information about this woman that could help us, we need to know it.” Tony glanced back to Wanda, “What if he’s enhanced like Wanda and Pietro and we go in there guns blazing. What happens if she perceives us as a threat? What then Cap?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Tony.” Steve was the Captain, so ultimately it was his decision. This left Tony incredibly unsatisfied, giving him a reason to implement a plan of his own. “We leave tonight. Be ready to leave in three hours.”

The room emptied quickly, everyone having their own rituals to do before departing on a mission. Steve and Sam were the last to remain in the room. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Sam asked in a hushed whisper.

“It’s the only one I got, Sam.”

“Are you going to let him come on the mission?” Steve made a face as he clenched his jaw. “I mean, Tony has a point. If he knows something, I think we should try to figure out what it is.”

“We can’t ask him to do that, Sam. You know we can’t.”

“I’m not saying that we should, but if you bring him on this mission and he remembers something in the heat of the moment?” Sam turned his body to fully face Steve, “What are we going to do then?” Sam brought up a valid point, but Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to stop Bucky from coming on the mission.

“Like I said, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

********************************

It was somewhat therapeutic for Bucky to be sharpening his knives. He sat quietly on one of the overstuffed couches in the compound’s common area. A wide array of matte black knives was laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He held one in his hand, raking it against a damp stone to create a slick silver edge on the blade. His solitude didn’t last long, not that he expected it to, especially here in the compound.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. I’m Wanda.” She stuck her hand out for Bucky to shake which he did, with great caution. There is no telling what this woman is capable of. I don’t need to get too comfortable with her.

“Bucky.” He kept his replies short, in the hopes of deterring her from wanting to interact with him. He knows that is exactly what Steve and his therapist in Wakanda told him to stop doing, but that’s irrelevant.

“I know what Tony was suggesting for us to do isn’t ideal, Bucky.” Bucky shuddered unintentionally, his fear rolling off of him in waves. “I just wanted to let you know, I would never do that to you. Not unless you asked me to and even then I don’t know if I would.” Bucky turned his head to face her. She seemed sincere, but then again people are always rotten on the inside.

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve heard one too many promises in my day, Wanda.” He shifted back to his original task, flipping another knife into the palm of his hand and dragging it along the stone. Wanda nods and lifts herself to her feet, about to retreat to the kitchen.

“It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” Bucky froze mid-drag, eyes boring holes into the table in front of him, not responding to Wanda. “The reason you don’t want me in your head?”

“What do you know of nightmares, witch?” Bucky sneered defensively.

“You would be surprised what I know of nightmares, Bucky.” She approached the back of the couch, curling her hands around the plush fabric. “My brother, Pietro, and I, volunteered for the experiments with HYDRA.” Bucky whipped his head around to face her, immediately registering her on a higher threat level. She lifted her right hand and a glowing red ball danced between her fingers as dynamic vines licked up her palm.

“We thought that they were there to help after everything that we went through in Sokovia.” Her accent thickened with each word, “After Stark’s bomb didn’t go off, we thought it meant we were destined to take him down. So we went to the closest freedom fighter group we could find.”

Bucky watched as she dropped her hand, the red energy dissipating immediately. “We weren’t the only ones, though. There were hundreds of us. Pietro and I just so happened to be the ones that were able to withstand what they put us through.” Their eyes met, gaze holding as she continued speaking. “Then, I watched their future. And in their ideal future, we weren’t there. None of us. No Avengers or enhanced people. No humans whatsoever.” She swallowed thickly, “That’s when we knew they lied. We had suspicions earlier, but we just did what we were told so we could get what we wanted.”

“What exactly did you want?”

“We wanted Stark dead.” She held Bucky’s eyeline. “But now, my brother is dead. And all I want is to see HYDRA's downfall at my hands.” She glanced back down at her hands, “What Tony wanted me to do,” hesitating as she continued, “I know he just wants me to go through your memories and pick out the ones specific to Agent Libra, but that’s not how it works.” Bucky looked at her and then leaned back into the couch cushions, gesturing for her to continue. “The way that I would go about that would be to have you experience the whole thing over again.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Wanda sucked in a deep breath, “It’s like a lucid dream. Your body would be moving and you wouldn’t be in control of it. Any action that you did at that particular moment in history would be reenacted exactly as it occurred.”

“So, if I were to do this, it would be like I was the Soldier again?”

“If that’s what it felt like, then yes.” A shiver ran up Bucky’s spine, he definitely didn’t want that. “I just wanted you to know what you would be getting yourself into if you did decide to allow me access to your memories.” A stiff nod was all she received in return.

He knows she’s just trying to be nice but he can’t help but want to run away and hide in a dark room. Bucky has been through so much because of that freedom fighter organization, he couldn’t fathom people actually volunteering their bodies for their twisted scientific experiments.

“Thanks for letting me know, Ms. Maximoff.” Even though Bucky wanted nothing to do with this woman next to him, his mother still raised him to be respectful of everyone.

“Oh, you can call me Wanda.” She smiled as she began her approach to the kitchen yet again. One thing was still nagging Bucky and he had to know the answer.

“Hey, quick question Wanda.” She stopped and turned to face him, sending a small hum in question towards him. “Are you a witch?”

Her head tilted thoughtfully, “Yes, I am.” She left it at that, leaving Bucky with wide eyes and a mouth that was hanging open. Goddamn it, I fucking hate it when Sam is right.

*****************************

watch your six tag list

@indigo123789 @austynparksandpizza

#watch your six #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #eventual bucky x reader #female reader insert #Sebastian stan #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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ffangirlingsince2001 · 4 years

Text

Self Satisfied

Kinktober: Day 14, Masturbation

Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, language

It was difficult to keep yourself satisfied on missions. You often considered sneaking out to a bar, finding a man just as lonely as yourself and taking him to back. You had gotten close some nights, but imagining the disapproving look on Steve’s face if he ever found out was enough to keep you situated in your room.

It was another one of those nights, slow and dull. The moon was at its peak, and you were stuck in an empty hotel room. From your bed, you could see the tiny cocktail dress you had brought with you just in case you decided to stop being a lovesick coward. It was beautiful, and you hadn’t been able to wear it without your guilt throttling you. And god, were you horny. Horny and in love with a man who was the peak of noble and respectful. And to make matters worse you were sure he was the most beautiful man you had ever met.

Blonde hair and blue eyes, rippling muscles, it was enough to make your mouth water… amongst other things.

With a groan and mumble, promising yourself that next time you were going to go out, you turned out the lamp and settled against the mountain of pillows. Seconds ticked by and then minutes as you weighed desperation against pride.

Desperation won out like it did every other night. You dipped nimble fingers past the waist band of your sleep shorts and softly sighed. It wasn’t anything like a man, nails just a bit too long, not quite rough enough to rouse all the right feelings, but it would have to do. Slipping beneath the folds you closed your eyes and let out a soft moan. One moan turned into ten as you slipped your finger in and out of soft folds, coating it with your own slick.

“Steve,” you gasped, mind wandering to the thought of it being his fingers, rather than your own. You moaned his name again, a little louder, a little more desperate, a little hungrier.

Your legs were tense, back ridged, when the door connecting Steve’s room to yours swung open.

“Hey Y/N, did you need some-,” he began, eyes bright and startled when he witnessed what he had walked in on. You were up in an instant, hiding your hand behind your back as if that could stop him from knowing what you had been up to. His eyes were wide in a moment but then the crystal blue pools turned stormy. You didn’t dare say anything, not sure what you could say. He was silent as well, but his whole demeanor had shifted. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“W-what?” He sat in the armchair, arms on the armrests, a smirk passing over his face.

“I said, don’t stop.”

“I don’t think I understand,” you said, voice no more than a whisper. He stood up quickly, leaning over you, hands on either side of your legs.

“I said, keep going.” You nodded; shock written across your face just as bright as the blush on your cheeks. Leaning back into the pillows you returned you fingers to your shorts. “No, take your shorts off.” Slowly you obeyed, your heart racing as you hooked your fingers around the waistband pulling them down your legs slowly, not daring to break eye contact with man hovering over you. “Spread your legs,” he ordered, and you did so, ever so slightly. “Wider.” A cool draft ran over the soft wetness between your legs and you shivered. You weren’t sure if it was from the wind or the way his eyes seemed to be tearing into you. “Start slow, and don’t bother keeping quiet, I want to hear every noise you’ve ever repressed.”

You weren’t quite sure who this was. What had happened to the man of full of honor and respect? And how could you get him to stay away? If he was going to keep looking at you like that, you hoped he would never leave.

“Steve,” you whispered, and he smiled.

“That’s right,” he coaxed. You stroked your fingers through the folds, eyes fluttering closed. “Look at me.” You forced your eyes open and took a deep breath. “Nice and slow, just those soft folds of yours.” Two fingers crisscrossed and against the small bundle of nerves. “Now put a finger in.” You slipped a finger into your entrance, your back arching, knees locking as you gasped. Pumping your finger, you added another, gasping, and moaning all the while.

If only he would just touch you, if only it were fingers touching you, if only it weren’t only his eyes that were fucking you.

“Please,” you begged without realizing you had spoken. You were begging against your will, begging all because he was staring at you like he wanted to feast on you, a wolf who had cornered a lamb. Your eyes shut once more, and you felt his hand on your thigh. You jumped, eyes darting open once more. His eyes were dark, and he was hovering over you. He pulled your hand from your center, pinning both of your wrists above your head.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, the softness of his voice contrasting with the hardness in his eyes.

“Yes, yes, oh god, yes,” you gasped, and he slid his sweatpants down past his legs. He was huge and hard, and you wanted nothing more than to sink your throbbing pussy. And he complied. He groaned as he entered you.

“Fuck Y/N,” he moaned, “So, fucking tight.” You bucked your hips forward, struggling against his hold on your wrists. His thrusting was already stuttering inside you. Not that you could last much longer either. You could barely believe you had managed to last this long. When your dreams were coming true how could you be expected to.

“I’m close,” you gasped, and he nodded, groaning above you. You came in tandem, gasping and moaning all the while.

“Fuck,” he groaned with a laugh, laying on top of you.

“That was a surprise,” you whispered, and he smiled.

“I thought it was a good time, with you moaning my name and all.” You playfully smacked him, hiding the smug smirk at your success.

#steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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withoneheadlight · 3 years

Note

life has been a bit crazy for me so I haven’t been around but I’m glad to see that the upside down kiss fic is circulating back around bc it lives rent free in my mind constantly and I am whORE KNEE 😩

nsfw! anon

(I hope you’ve seen well I miss u :((( )

NSFW!ANON I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU I MISS YOUUUUUU!!!!! Holy shit this is the nicest surprise!!!!!! 💖💖💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖🌟💖 Wish your life were at least a bit less crazy :(. Mine's been a bit crazy too. Weird and busy. Haven't been letting me much time for fandom and i miss it so, SO FUCKING much.

And <3<3<3, haha yep! i’ve got a soft spot for that fic too bc i had so much fun writing it, and it’s even funnier on my mind idk xD. i’m so happy people likes it. Those gifs are like a harringrove inspiration charm i swear! Maybe you’ve already seen it but @warheadache added this amazing ar to it and 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉.

also!! i know it doesn’t look like it but i’ve got a couple things for you on the works and i’m closer to finish them!! at my snail pace but yk,

a few excerpts bc i want to give them to you so baaaaaadddDDDDDD:

(I'm sure you'll recognize the working titles :P)

| n s f w ahead |

| boots |

And it’s been more than three years. More than three years of holes on his body and holes on his veins and stitches and tubes and pills and pain under every scar and unsteady steps and pulling together a pile of dirty rubble. More than one of Steve, Steve, Steve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

Except―

He’s going through his old stuff, one day. Cold outside. Late January. Chill fogging the windows. Daylight pouring to the edges of the sky like red-hot steel on the other side.

Billy’s on the floor. The contents of the two plastic bags collecting dust at the bottom of his closet since he moved in here now scattered all around. Cassettes and crumpled papers and tampered books and stupid memorabilia and. His old tight jeans. His leather jackets. His light-blue denim one, with the blood-red goodbye kiss of somebody whose cheek he remembers touching, whose face he can’t remember anymore.

And Billy doesn’t hear him coming, but one moment he’s not, the next Steve’s crouching by his side, leaning against him, too lightly for it to be in need of balance.

“God, Hargrove” he huffs, picks Billy’s favorite shirt out of the pile “Am I remembering this one right?”

Billy bites in a smile. Swallows down some bitterness.

“You are”

Steve nods, mouth twisting into a grin, a brow rising. Glances down at what Billy’s holding (on to) between his hands.

“And oooh. Those boots”

Still dirty. More dark brownish than black. One of the few things he got back from the hospital. His pendant being the only one he ever put back on.

“Yeah”

“Thinking ‘bout using any of these again?” Steve gives the shirt a light shake, the dark-red fabric dragging on the wooden floor.

Last time Billy wore it, he burned hole in it. A stray ember fell from his joint, right under the left pocket. Tiny enough to pass mostly unseen but―

For a closer look, it was ruined.

Two days later, the Mind-Flyer dragged him into the basement of Brimborn Steel Works.

Billy digs his fingers into the dry leather before they can start shaking.

“I don’t―” Takes in a big gulp of air “―know. Don’t know if they’ll fit anymore” It feels like nothing.

Because, he doesn’t mean only his body. Means it all. Because he’s alivealivealive, like some kind of inevitability. Alive like a form of inertia.

Alive because that’s all he had left. Got’s left. The only thing he could. Can. Do.

But,

But

“Uhmm” Steve exhales. Looks right into his eyes and it feels like he’s looking deeper. And it’s not the first time, not the first time Billy wonders, how much he knows, and how he knows it. Wonders what he might be seeing, what his instinct might be saying for him to―lower down his voice, eat away almost every single one of the scarce millimeters keeping their mouths from touching “Maybe the boots, then” his hair tickling Billy as it falls over his forehead, the feeling of it so intimate it seems illicit “Only, the boots”.

And those words. Those words. Taste like gasoline on Billy’s mouth, make the flame almost catch. Hot. As they feel over the rabbiting pulse of his jugular. Ad there shouldn’t be any empty space left between them when Steve moves even closer, his lips brushing a path of raw tenderness over Billy’s cheek, trailing sideways, air turning flammable and unstable, unbreathable when he says, “You’d look―” Voice hoarse. Shaky. Breath warm down the curve of Billy’s neck. Fingertips burning as a branding mark over his solar plexus “Hot as fuck”

Trading a grenade for Billy’s fast-beating heart.

And then― he’s getting up. Going away. Closing the door behind him. Leaving Billy one pull away from the detonation.

And Billy.

It’s been more than year since he moved. More than a year of SteveSteveSteve. Of coming back in busts and flickers. Enough gasoline left to light a spark. Too empty still to start a fire.

But Billy wants it, this kind of inevitability. Not inertia. No survival. Not that something living doesn’t really feels like. He wants Steve to release that bomb he just dropped inside of his body. Left Billy unmade. Shape him back together with his own two hands.

So he gets up. Wired-up and breathless. Anticipation beading on the surface of his skin. Thinks about of all those times alive felt like something reachable. That almost-touch sensation. Static singing on his fingertips: loving arms closing around his ocean-cold skin. The rumbling of the sea caught up on the shell of his ribcage. Max's crazy laugh like a hammer to his bones. The Camaro cooking the soles of his feet, speed making his head spin through a wormhole and out into the infinite. His knuckles cracking against the skin of another, finding bone. The metallic tang of blood flooding down the back of his tongue.

Love and fire and rage and―

He takes all his clothes off. They don’t feel like they fit, either. Socks. Sweats. Hoodie. T-Shirt. Takes a deep breath when the pendant bumps against the naked skin of his chest.

Puts his boots on.

Does the only thing he’s ever known.

“Steve!” he shouts. Pulse spiking up fast. Trying to beat a way out of his body “Can you come back in here?”

Skyrocketing, when Steve shouts back.

“Going!”

And then is the door clicking open. Billy’s lungs freezing in the middle of a breath. Steve’s eyes looking almost black as they catch the shadows. Sun falling down the reality of the other side.

And in a darkness like that, it’s only them what remains. Them, and the way they are looking at each other.

And Billy feels alive. Like falling. Feet slippin’ on the razor’s edge.

"Billy" breathes out Steve. Shoulder perched on the frame. Fingers tightening around the handle "Fuck, Billy I―"

“Yeah?”

Alive. Like a form of gravity when―

Steve comes forward. To him. Careful. Careful. Footsteps creaking on the wooden floor. Lashes falling down as his eyes drift. Swallows. Comes closer and closer still.

And then.

Their chest are brushing and their hands are almost touching and it's not even an inch but Billy has to look up even with his stupid boots on and,

“You said―”

Steve breathes in. Cuts Billy’s breath off his lungs.

Between them, there’s no room for anything that’s not the way they’re not touching.

“I know what I said”

The air, sparks, sizzles, becomes the memory of a thunderstorm and. The tips of Steve’s fingers make his hairs stand on end. High voltage. Spark over the inside of his wrist. The faded blue of his veins. And Billy shivers. Feels like that second of stasis before the rupture. Static calm and then― the ocean breaks.

And then Steve says,

“I wanna see it. That fire in you” and his fingers tickle across the hidden tenderness on the inside Billy’s elbow. Nails grazing their way up to his shoulder, detouring to contour the crest of his clavicle, slide down the trough, spreading as they follow the shape of Billy’s neck, thumb fitting into the corner of his lips and “C’mon.” smiling, smiling. Eyes creasing at the sides, lashes catching the few last strings of light. Wicked and sweet and devastating “Show me who’s that Billy Hargrove everybody's been telling me so much about”

| stick | tw: object insertion |

It’s thrilling, this secret, depraved game they play. Feels like it's forbidden. Leaves a sweet, honey-thick aftertaste.

And Billy is so. So curious. Can’t stop asking Steve to tell him “How it feels babe. I want to know how good it feels. God you look like it's hitting you just right” and Steve tells him. Steve fucks himself down into whatever thing Billy is holding for him, never touching himself until he’s almost there, wanting to ride that sole sensation right up until the very end. Shivering. Shaking. Breaking a sweat. The words coming ragged out of his open mouth. “Cold” or “Weird” or “Like. Too much–ah. Too much” and “Soft, God, Billy so soft” and–

“Why don’t you try it yourself?”

And Billy its so, so curious.

Billy does.

Rails himself for Steve to watch, slicked up with lube and dripping. With a rolling pin. A cucumber. Almost a whole box of wooden colored pencils, stuffed inside his ass one by one. With “ohgodgodgod” the handle of Steve’s fucking nailed bat. Lets Steve holds whatever thing he chooses for him “C’mon, babe. C’mon. Treat it good. Swallow it as deep as you can. Take it like you would take my cock”

And life in Hawkins gets boring after the first, second, fourth, seventh yearly round. Steve takes that office work. Billy gets a permanent spot in the garage. If he gets real lucky, somebody takes him an interesting car from time to time. But sometimes Steve looks at Billy with dark, liquid eyes. Says “Ok enough”. His voice harsh. Rasped. Losing balance at the edge of what he’s able to restrain himself. Sounding as if he’s jealous of those things jamming the insides if Billy’s ass. Takes out Billy’s been writhing around. Fucks him hard. Fuck him deep. Fucks him so good there are tears in Billy’s eyes by the time he comes. Fallen apart and sobbing.

Steve’s driving. One hand on the wheel. One hand on the shift. The cool air of the night coming in shorts through the rolled-down window. On the radio, Ted Nugent’s making his guitar whine, the strings arching into the touch of his fingertips, asking for more more more, ‘Here I come again now baby. Like a dog in heat’

Steve’s long fingers flex over the knob, winter-cold white under reddened knuckles. He shifts from third to fourth with a smooth press and lets go of the clutch, and the Camaro sighs, settles. Steve makes her calm. Steve tames her. Where Billy makes her growl and kick Steve drives her like a lover, whispers to her with all his body I’m gonna fuck you so slow. We got all night, baby. Steve treats her right. Runs those fingers up and down the metallic rod of the shift and Billy gets hard. One second from zero to sixty.

His cock pulses, pulses. Fills up whole. The sudden rush of heat traveling up, up. Presses against the walls of his throat. Billy wants to feel the head of Steve’s cock against his bell. Wants Steve to make him choke on him.

Steve brakes. Clutches. Reduces. The Camaro moans, needy. Steve soothes her, caresses it with a soft brush of his thumb along the speed patter Shh, baby sshhh. Just hold a little bit longer. I promise I will let you come.

Billy feels himself twitch, spit out precum. The inside of his pants feels damp, appetizing. He lets his hips slide, rock.

The knob is real leather. Silver pattern ingrained over black. Seams carefully sew out on the surface as a touch of style.

Billy replaced it a few months ago, the old one too damaged by use. Worn out.

This one curves slightly forward.

It would hit just right.

Steve's eyes are alight, framed in the light reflected from the rearview mirror, a dramatic take out of an old Noir.

Except the brown shines full color. Alive.

Billy puts his hand over Steve’s on the knob, spreads his fingers around his.

Grips him hard.

“Hey, babe. Have you ever thought about it?”

“Mmm? About what?”

“About riding my car”

Steve huffs. Chuckles.

“I am driving your car”

“Yeah” Billy caresses the side of Steve’s hand with his thumb, a lagged reflection of his gesture. Thinks about how pretty Steve’s lips would look around that leather, mouth open wide “Don’t mean it like that”

Billy has to take a deep, shaky breath, thinking it's a miracle they ever get as far as they plan, that Steve Harrington's mere existence doesn't make him come just by looking at him.

Not all their games get to the finish line. But this, God, Billy wants this one to.

"Ah-ah" he shakes his head, smirks, keeps the stakes high "But if you hop on I'll let you eat my mouth"

“Mmmm. I don’t know”

Steve twists his lips, considering, looks like he’s willing to take his sweet time deciding, staying just like this, idly rocking on his lap, keeping Billy hooked in this scarce feeling, this almost kissing between their cocks.

And Billy––Uff. Billy it’s too revved-up, can’t take it any fucking second more.

Grabs Steve’s asscheeks. Lifts him up.

“Billy what the—ohfuck” It doesn't go in. ‘Course it doesn’t. When Billy lets Steve’s weight drop just a slight bit. It bumps. Slips. Wet and obscene. Rips a breathless thing of a sound out of his throat. But then Steve’s arms wrap around his neck. Bracing himself so Billy can take a hold of it, line himself up. And then yeah yeah. He barely has to rub the head against Steve’s slippery hole and his cock slides in. Eaaasy. All the way. Into Steve’s warmth. Tight. Tight. Tight. And–

“Ohfuck. OhfuckOh”

The air coming in from the window is cool, bristling, but it feels like nothing when Steve lets out a chocked cry. Fucks himself. Fast. Rough. Face buried into the crook of Billy’s neck. Breath blooming hot, hot. Teeth on his pulse.

“Shhhh, baby, shhh” Billy takes his face between his hands, pushes him carefully backwards. Waits ‘till Steve’s eyes slowly find focus on his, still rocking, still― “Hey. You gotta stop. You hear me?” Steve takes a deep breath, exhales long and shaky. It takes all of him to slow down, Billy knows, but he does. Thighs twitching. Cock weeping. Smearing over Billy’s belly where his t-shit has hitched up.

Billy brushes his hair back from his forehead. Tangled and damp and gorgeous.

Kisses him light and sweet.

“We’re close, baby. We’re really, really close. But you gotta stop so I can open you up real good ok?”

Steve nods, eyes glossy, lips bitten and Billy feels overwhelmed, feels like burning under the hard sun. They’re both hanging by the thinnest of threads, Billy can feel it, can see it in the blown-out dark of Steve’s eyes. They’re riding pleasure at point break, time holding its breath for them. This is his favorite part of the game. A little too much, just a little too much. ‘Till one of them loses it. ‘Till one of them melts on the other’s hands. Hard and thick.

And God, Billy has never been one not to push his luck.

He takes two fingers up to Steve’s lips, runs the tips over the tender skin inside. Thinks about how they don’t look bitten enough, swollen enough. About how he’s gonna have to fix that.

“I’m gonna put these two inside. Will you get them ready for me?” Steve’s Smile twitches up, canines showing. It’s a two-men-con. But they play as much against the other as they play together. So Steve swallows both fingers. All the way in one go. Eyes falling shut. Eats them wet and messy. Deepthroats. Rumbles. Ass clenching, pulsing around Billy’s cock. And Billy is only a short breath of self-control away from spending himself inside him like a fucking rookie.

It’s boring, small-town life, really. Except–

“Good boy,” he says, making his fingers pop out of Steve’s mouth, satisfaction tastier than honey at the mean glare it grants him. But it softens, that glare, Steve’s eyelids flutter, open-mouthed and blissed, when Billy brushes the head of his cock with his knuckles, haft teasing, half relieving, keeping Steve in the tightrope with him.

“I’m getting a bit impatient in here, Hargrove” he says, only managing to make his voice sound half annoyed about it. Bit Billy is too, impatient. So drags his fingers down, pads tracing the taut shape of Steve’s cock, his balls, and down. Presses. Softly. Rubs the stretched-out flesh of his hole. Dips just the tips. Press. Press. And–

“AhfuckBilly–Ah.Mmmmh”

It’s tight. Steve’s ass clenches around him, squeezes him in. It’s a heady feeling, having him like this, senses overrunning. He’s intoxicated. High on the painful scratch of Steve’s nails when he grabs his jaw to kiss him open-mouthed and harsh. The helpless way he chokes off a sob when Billy makes his fingers curl, rubs him good and,

“I’m ready, Billy. I’m ready. BillyBillyplease. I can’t take it anymore. Please, baby. I’m ready” he’s gasping, breathless, barely taking in the heated up air they share.

“Hey. C’mon. C’mon. Just a little more, ok?. A little more and I’ll let you swallow it all in. That knob. All the way down your ass. No space left for anything else" he licks the words all along Steve’s neck, his ear. Rubs his lips over the damp roots of his hair. Cock pushing. Fingers working. When Steve sits on the stick. Billy wants him right over the edge “Gonna cum so hard you’re gonna be begging me to let you ride her again”

yup! hope you like them! i really really REALLY want to finish them for you.

Fingers crossed I get to see you again soon my dear nsfw!anon 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

#im sending you THE BIGGEST HUG <3<3<3<3<33<#I MISSSSS YOUUUUUUUUUU #your asks never fail to light up my day #take care #and dont let that bad real life grip you too hard #i'll be around if you need me #and my ask box is always open for you #ns*w!anon💖#harringrove #long post #till i can make a cut sorry #the wip tag game!#xwips #xaskfic

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the1918 · 4 years

Note

Filth that I direly need your input on (that I was planning to write but didn't feel confident enough to flesh out): A/B/O 'verse Stucky where Bucky ends up knocking up Steve w/out either of them knowing about it... for whatever reason the first sign Steve gets is them good ol' horny pregnancy hormones- like Steve just is EXCESSIVELY horny all the time & then Bucky puts it all together & thinks *dramatic gulp* if he's needing it this bad now... how bad is he gonna be when he's big & round?!

Okay, so as I’m sure comes as no shock to you-- I love this. My preggo Steve kink was itching and you have given me a good scratchin’.

You should write this, Nonnie! Here are some little nuggets to chew on and maybe get you started:

Steve is a horny boy on a normal basis, but it’s usually in a way befitting of a soldier’s routine nature: he likes to get dicked down in the morning when he wakes up, and he likes to have his alpha eat his ass before sleep. So when Steve starts sniffing after knots in the middle of the damn day? In the shower? On the quinjet??? Bucky knows something is up.

They fuck for like a week straight when they get a positive pregnancy test. Steve is horny as he’s been, yes--but Bucky instigates more than half the time. How can he not, when he’s only just found out that the brickhouse blond bombshell that’s always walking around their apartment is also now growing Bucky’s baby?

But okay, then the morning sickness starts to set in (btw I 100% acknowledge the fact that I am getting pregnancy symptoms all out of order, but it’s a fantasy and it’s a/b/o so let’s just chalk it up to omega males experiencing it differently) and Steve is too nauseous to wanna fuck. Bucky is a good partner, holds his hair back, even gains five pounds of his own (sympathy weight).

But then the first trimester passes, and the nausea goes away! Yay!

Oh, shit.

Steve cannot. keep. his hands to himself.

It’s a fucking problem, is what it is. I mean, Bucky... look, don’t get the guy wrong; his omega is knocked up with his kid and starting to show a pretty little bump and Bucky’s definitely hankering for a taste of that ass but dear. god.

Steve legitimately wants to fuck eight or ten times a day. It’s like he’s in heat 24/7/365. No one can get a damn thing done. The kitchen is a fucking mess, because Steve won’t let go of Bucky’s dick long enough for either of them to do the dishes, and when Bucky finally puts his foot down and tells Steve ‘nO’ one day because “baby, sweetheart, doll... we have NOTHING LEFT TO EAT ON,” Steve just begs and pleads and finally convinces Bucky that he’ll load the dishwasher himself if he can do it with Bucky behind him while they’re waiting for a motherfucking knot to go down.

It doesn’t get better when Steve gets bigger. It just gets more difficult. Steve wants to bend over for Bucky’s mouth but he also is complaining about his spine in that position and he’s also complaining that they ran out of tapioca pudding, and how the fuck is Bucky supposed to go buy more or even talk about buying more when he’s got his tongue shoved up Steve’s sopping wet cunt 27 hours a day?!?!?!

(Bucky has already accepted that--sometimes--you just gotta answer the door for the delivery driver with slick all over your beard. There’s just. There’s nothing that can be done about that one.)

Go write!!!

#a/b/o #omegaverse #wow my first head canon in almost a month #can i come back now #can i quit my job and start hanging out on tumblr again

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champagne-bucky · 4 years

Text

Prescription For... (Just a Touch)

Summary: Steve learns the basics.

Warnings: pre-serum Steve x reader, crude language, masturbation (male and female), dirty thoughts

Notes: Soooo this is kinda late (by like a month or two) but this is kinda my thank you for 1,000 on Tumblr!!! Thank you all so so so much for your support and love towards me and my writings!! Enjoy!!

After Bucky’s interesting visit with Old Man Rogers, he had to go back for more. He honestly did not believe a word his older best friend spoke to him. Was he going senile? Maybe he was lying? Or, maybe he was telling the truth…

“Back for more?” The older gentleman chuckled at the impromptu visit from his childhood friend.

“I just gotta know, are you pulling my leg? Because if you are that was a pretty fucking good gag, Steve,” no matter how many times Steve told Bucky about her, Bucky really thought the old captain was lying to him.

“I assure you, it was all real,” Steve smirked at Bucky and Bucky was a little squeamish at that.

“So, then what else happened between you and her? Did you visit her while you returned the stone? Did you ever keep in touch with her like you did with Peggy? C’mon Steve don’t leave me hanging,” Steve chuckled at his friend.

“All in due time, Buck. Head home now, I’ve gotta take my meds and head to bed,” Bucky gave Steve a hug and pat on the back.

“I’ll be back,” Bucky called out.

“You always do,” Steve responded.

—

Later that night, Steve laid in his bed and dreamed of his woman. The woman before the shield, before the title, before his name. He dreamed of her.

*flashback*

“So, Rogers, them boys been giving you trouble for a while now, huh?” She sat across from the nervous young man while sipping on her drink.

“Just the usual stuff. This always happens to me, ya know,” he responds as he plays with the collar of his shirt.

“You don’t listen to those boys. All they are is scared little boys who got no business picking on a guy like you,” Steve scoffed at that.

“Then why do they always come after me?”

“Depends, your pal Bucky out of town or something?” It did dawn on Steve that whenever Bucky wasn’t around he did get picked on a lot more.

“I don’t like the way they spoke to you today. Sayin’ that you and your momma are,” she shuddered in disgust, “are like that. I find it charming that a man can be that close with his momma,” Steve blushed at that. All his life people would tease and taunt him for being a momma’s boy. Bucky was the same with his mother. However, when there’s a guy as big and buff as he is the guys don’t pick on you as much.

“They’re probably just jealous cause they can’t find any lady around her to screw around with. Probably touch their you know what’s to a peach and imagine a lady attached,” Steve choked on his drink. He never heard a woman speak such vulgarity.

“What?” She looked at him curiously.

“Ya know,” she started doing the motion of a closed fist going up and down.

Steve furrowed his brows in confusion. What was she doing?

“Oh, Oh my gosh! You’ve never…” she trailed off as she looked at Steve’s expression. Poor Steve started to blush out of embarrassment.

“No, no, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. Didn’t you ever learn what that was,” she tried her best to not be crude, but she knew it wasn’t gonna work.

“I’m not following,” poor boy.

“Steve,” she let out a little chuckle, “I’m talking about masterbating. You’ve never heard about that before?” Steve choked back his shocked expression as she whispered the last part.

Of courses he’s heard of that word before. He remembers how his momma sat him down one day and told him that good boys don’t do dirty things like touch their privates. She scarred poor Steve at such a young age about the evils of self pleasure.

“I-I have, I just thought I w-wasn’t supposed to d-do it,” Steve was entirely red at this point.

“Oh, Stevie. My poor poor boy you’re mistaken’,” she shook her head and placed a hand over his. “There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself,” she had confidence that Steve had never seen before, not even in Bucky. “It’s a good thing, a really good thing. It’ll prepare you for later,” she winked as Steve’s eyes blew as wide as the moon.

He forgot about the offer she had made. Oh god, just knowing that made him feel ashamed of himself, he didn’t know anything about masterbating let alone sex. He’s a fraud!

“H-How do I-I do it,” he was looking everywhere except her face.

She smirked and began to tell him the rundown. Steve was baffled by how all this worked. He didn’t know how his mother would feel about this if she ever caught him. Oh god, what if she caught him, Steve thought.

“Listen, just try it, there’s no need to rush or overthink it. However in the event that you do do it,” she smirked and played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “let me know every little detail,” she winked and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek as she left the little diner they were in.

Steve had been nervous all throughout the night when he returned home. Every time his mother asked him a question he would start to get nervous. Thinking that he was starting to come down with something, she abruptly sent him to bed, alone with his thoughts.

Now flash forward to Steve in his room, laid out on his bed, stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers and his pale little chest heaving up and down in the moonlight. He stared up at the ceiling as he thought. What should turn him on? He laid there for what felt like hours, only it was mere minutes, before his mind wandered back to her.

Did she do this too? Did she lay down in her bed every night and do dirty things to make her feel better? Did she tug her nightgown up to her hips and play down there until she felt euphoric? Would she not wear her undergarments to bed, maybe discard them so they wouldn't feel so dirty?

Oh, so this is how you start, huh? Steve felt himself get harder at the thought of her doing that. Her sweet little nightgown resting above her belly button, undergarments taken neatly off her heating body as her sweet little center starts to slick. She’s featherlight with her touches, she hisses when she applies pressure to her sweet and sensitive breasts.

Quiet moans escape past her beautiful lips as she rubs her thighs together for some relief. That’s not enough to quench the increasingly burning fire. Her one hand leaves its place, pulling and pinching the dusty pink nipple that is way past its usual sensitivity limit.

It’s wet down there, so wet. She feels a light sheen of sweat gloss over her perfect skin. Her fingers make hasty work as she plays, pulls, and rubs the sensitive little nub. Her moans start to get too loud, she has to put her other hand over her mouth to silence them. She fails quickly as she slips a finger in her center, then two. It’s mind blowing, the sweet and slick core pulsing at every rapid movement. No room for teasing tonight, she has to be quick before anyone hears her.

Three fingers, she’s never done this before. It feels so good. Her back arches off the bed ever so slightly out of pleasure. She’s going faster now, so fast she hears little noises coming from down there. It’s so hot. So hot that she can’t take the amount of pleasure anymore. She lets go and it's an amazing feeling. Her bed sheets are soaked as well as her thighs. She’s heavy breathing now as she scrambles to get up.

Her legs are shaking with every movement as she strips her sheets and wipes herself down. The air feels nice and cool against her burning skin. She needed this tonight and she’s glad it happened.

Finally, she changes her sheet and lays back in bed. All cool and rested thinking about the skinny boy who visits her father's pharmacy every day.

Steve is sitting up now, hand around his painfully aching cock. He’s pumping up and down so fast. The precum spilling out the top was enough to coat his big shaft. He’s holding back his grunts with clenched teeth.

It feels good, it’s so good that he needs to stop himself a few times so the pleasure doesn’t end early. He’s starting to make sweet sounds on his glistening member too. His other hand is making a tight grip on the edge of his mattress. He can’t hold on for long, he’s gotta do it.

He lets go. The mess ends up on his chest and dribbles down his abdomen. He’s coated in his own sheen of sweat and he is breathless.

Steve couldn't believe what had just happened. He feels a mix of shame, but not as much as he feels the missing fulfillment of pleasure. This sweet delicacy should’ve been a part of his life way earlier. Screw it, he wants to do it a second time, third time, so many times, but he knows he can’t. He needs some sleep since this activity drained him of all his energy.

He sleeps like a baby for the first time in years. He’s cooled down and feels less stressed. Steve can’t wait to do it again.

Her phone rings a numerous number of times. Her mother yells for her to come near as she says a young gentleman is asking for her. She trudges towards the phone and smirks as she hears her soon to be lover's voice telling her that the deed has been done.

“So you ready to learn more, Rogers?”

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cake-writes · 5 years

Note

Stucky x reader w/ degradation🥴

So uh… degradation’s not really my thing (not judging - you do you, girl!) so this kind of went off the rails a bit. Sorry!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: degradation (ish), spanking, safe word, sub drop, aftercare, 18+

Your boys cherished you beyond belief, no doubt about it. They valued you – loved you so much that they put you on a pedestal fit for a princess. You meant the world to them. They just showed it differently.

Steve certainly wasn’t shy about his feelings. He always made sure to tell you multiple times a day how much he loved you, sweet words bookended with a quick peck on the lips. When the two of you were apart, usually because of missions, he’d text you whenever he was thinking about you – quite often, actually – and he called you every night before he went to bed, covert ops be damned. By saying it out loud, he knew that you knew.

Bucky, on the other hand, was a man of action. He didn’t tell you so much as show you his love. He liked to lace his fingers with yours when you walked on the street together, and sometimes, he’d bring you flowers: a single one from your garden at the compound, or every now and then a bouquet of them he picked up whilst in town. He’d kiss you on the forehead, the back of your hand – anywhere, really, because he loved every part of you.

You knew they loved you – which was why you loved the way they fucked you.

“You’re all ours, aren’t you, baby girl?” Bucky whispered, his warm fingers tweaking one of your nipples. You could feel his hard cock pressed up against your lower back from where you were lying in between his legs. “Our little fuck toy.”

“Yes—Yes, I’m all yours,” you stammered, voice breathy with want.

“That’s right,” Steve hummed against the inside of your thigh as he pressed a kiss to the soft, tender skin there, causing your head to lull back against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Tell Stevie what you want,” Bucky whispered into your ear, using his tongue to trace the shell of it and you shivered. “You want him to fuck you? Then be a good girl and use your words.”

Another kiss, closer this time – closer to where you wanted Steve most, and your eyelids fluttered shut.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve coaxed, his hot breath fanning against your soaked core – but all you could do was moan and buck your hips up against him, and he regretfully pulled away.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered, bucking your hips again to no avail.

The ache in your pussy was unbearable with all the teasing they’d put you through over the last couple of hours – sultry whispers and subtle flirting over dinner and drinks with the team, which ended with your panties shoved into Steve’s pocket and Bucky’s wandering fingers between your thighs at the kitchen table.

“I don’t know, Buck. Looks like she needs to remember her place.”

Steve’s tone sent another shiver through you – firm and full of command.

Bucky’s metal hand slowly trailed up your stomach and in between your breasts, before his fingers loosely wrapped around your throat. The cold chill was a stark contrast to your flushed skin, and your nipples noticeably pebbled as he growled into your ear, “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m your fuck toy,” you gasped, and his fingers tightened just a little in warning – wrong answer. “Your dirty little slut. All yours. Please.”

When his fingers tightened again, your pussy clenched around nothing.

“You don’t even care whose cock it is, do you?” Bucky taunted. “So long as someone’s fucking you.”

If you said no, then you’d be punished; but if you said yes, it would have been a lie.

You went with honesty.

“No,” you admitted, moaning when Steve sucked a bruise against your inner thigh. “I don’t care. I don’t fucking care, please just—”

Then you inhaled sharply when Steve slid one of his slick fingers inside you – into your ass, and only up to his first knuckle. It wasn’t a reward, but a punishment. The slight pain was offset by the pleasure of finally having something inside of you, even if it wasn’t what you really wanted – your pussy stuffed full.

“Christ, how are you always this tight?” Steve sounded almost amazed as he pushed in further. While he was never as outright as Bucky was when it came to treating you like this, like an object, the implication was enough: they fucked you enough that you definitely shouldn’t have been.

Your back arched at the intrusion, your core positively dripping with need but neither of them had any intention of helping with that anytime soon.

“I thought you didn’t care,” Bucky said dryly. “Guess you don’t want us to fuck you, then.”

A whine escaped you at Bucky’s comment while Steve worked his finger all the way inside, almost as if to emphasize that point – and then he pulled it out, ordering, “On your knees.”

You immediately pulled yourself up onto all fours to offer your ass to him, kneeling between Bucky’s spread legs. You knew what was coming; you’d been particularly mouthy tonight, for one, and entirely too eager for another.

Even still, when Steve’s hand connected harshly with your backside, you swore loudly.

“That’s not a number,” Bucky scoffed. “Count, princess, or you’re not getting a damn thing.”

“One,” you responded obediently. Another slap echoed throughout the room, then, “T-Two.”

By the time you reached five, your ass was red and burning; and when you hit ten, you were about ready to cry.

“Think she’s learned her lesson?” Steve asked, his large palm soothing the burn from the last slap.

Yes. Yes you had.

That was when Bucky used his warm hand to gently tilt your face up, and when he saw the tears in your eyes, his features softened just a little. “Colour?”

You responded with a quiet, shaky, “Green.”

His thumb traced your cheekbone before a moment before he buried his fingers in your hair and tugged your head forward, toward his cock. He didn’t even get the chance to tell you what to do this time because you were already taking him into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck,” he cursed, fingers tightening in your hair. “Fuck, Steve, get her ready.”

Steve didn’t need to be told twice. He finally, finally put you out of your misery with his tongue, exploring your slick folds with a certain ease and familiarity that always drove you crazy – especially when he kissed and licked his way higher, to your tight hole. If nothing else, Steve always devoured you like a man starved.

You’d been worked up so much and for so long that this time, when he slid two fingers into your ass, you came. It was a weak orgasm, forced out of you from pure, unbridled desperation – unexpected and unwanted. You hadn’t been given permission to cum, but it happened all the same.

You pulled your mouth off of Bucky to sob, “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it back.”

There were more tears, and this time, they fell.

“Sweetheart,” Steve spoke gently as he withdrew his fingers from you. “Honey. What’s your colour?”

His question caught you by surprise; you’d just been asked a couple of minutes prior, but things had changed so quickly. For the first time since the three of you had been together, you mumbled a quiet, “Yellow.”

It was probably more of a red, if you were honest, but you felt guilty enough as it was. You didn’t even know why you were crying and that made you feel even worse.

“Shh, come here,” Bucky soothed you, gathering you into his arms. “We’re gonna stay like this for a little while. Okay?”

You nodded, burying your face in his chest not for comfort but because were embarrassed. Mortified, really, because you were crying like an idiot and you couldn’t control your emotions. It was ridiculous. And now you’d ruined the scene, when you knew that they were both just as worked up as you.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, voice muffled.

Steve trailed sweet kisses over your shoulders and neck, his large hand massaging gentle circles on your lower back. “You don’t have to be sorry, sweetheart. I think you got a little overwhelmed.”

You immediately tensed up at his response. You knew that he was probably right, but that didn’t make you feel any better.

Steve pulled the blankets over the three of you while Bucky pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

Bucky said your nickname, but when that didn’t seem to catch your attention, he added, “Hey. Look at me.”

You slowly, hesitantly turned your head to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest, and his eyes softened on yours.

“You have nothing to feel sorry about. Okay?”

You nodded again – and this time, you believed it just a little more. “Okay.”

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