rainydayfix

[rainydayfix]

Trouble (Part 1)

Pairing – Steve Rogers (The Winter Soldier Steve in particular) x female reader Summary: He came into the club to unwind. You focus on making ends meet. But his shyness and your compassion might be both of your undoing.

Warnings: 18+ content (MINORS DNI!!!), thigh riding, one or two cursewords, pretty much just making out and horniness but PART 2 will be on its way and it will be much more NSFW. Contrary to the title, both of these are consensual.

Word count: 1,914

Snippet: “You getting married soon?” Maybe that was the reason for his reclusiveness, he's got a woman at home and doesn't want to mess up his future. It almost settled a sense of relief in you, to know a good one was still out there.

“I'm just busy at work. I don't get much time off,” he said. You exhaled a sight of relief bigger than you anticipated. You almost swore, with the way his neck perked up, he heard it too.

Random Notes – I was literally driving home from work, and Trouble Man from The Winter Soldier soundtrack came on - the whole story kinda flashed in my mind and I was just so giddy. As soon as I got home, I just kinda let this one go and here we are. I hope ya'll enjoy, and let me know what you think!! :D

Having just come off your set on the main stage, you take your cue with the hoots and hollers around the room from bored husbands and bosses to get all you can. A little shimmy here, some quick flirty convos there, as men stuff the lining of your bra and underwear with singles and double digits. Feeling hot from the stuffiness of the air, and not the attraction of anyone in the room, you shuffle to a mirror in a dark corner behind the crowded bar to make yourself look more presentable. The crisp and crumpled dollar bills felt a bit thicker than your intake from the night before. At least you hope so as you take off your heel and force the bills to the bottom before slipping it back on. Safe keeping.

A separate round of large shouts and hollers come from the entranceway rather than close to the stage. A bachelor party? A happy hours get-together? You couldn't care less to be honest, but you had to care enough while you were on the clock with bills to pay.

A couple of the girls from the back scuttle back and forth from the dressing room, wanting to get a vantage point of the new troupe of customers. We were all desperate for more than the regulars, even if they paid between impish and fairly well. Two servers dipped over to them more than ready to take their orders, as a few of the men began busting out bills for the table, the kind of show and tell to bring over any dancer in a heartbeat.

From where you stood across the floor, the eight of them all looked like they belonged roiding out in the gym, or getting off fighting a war – wearing various combos of black jackets, pants, shirts, slick back hair. The one with the beard had gruffest voice and looked like the leader, and none of them had a problem following his lead. Being loud and gruff for the sake of it.

Except for one. He wasn't even wearing black. You couldn't be sure under shadows of neon lights but he looked like he was donning the most subtle navy blue casual look, not the cargo wear of his pals. Blonde hair. Sharp jawline. Looking exactly like he had no idea what he was doing there. If you were one of your friends, you would've gone to him next. None of the others seemed to think he was worth the hassle, going for the more extroverted ones of the bunch. You almost felt sorry for him.

But you didn't want any problems tonight. Sighing and mentally wishing the other girls luck you made your way around the room, hitting up some guys who cheered the most when you were on stage, some who left you great tips last night.

That sorriness you felt for the lone stranger didn't last long before you found yourself close enough to the table you planned on avoiding.

“What's your name, sweet cheeks,” the loud one, the leader, shouted over the music, letting a loose hand gently graze your back.

You offered your stage name with a tight smile. The tightest most polite smile you could while trying desperately not to eye the wad of cash splayed across the tables that seemed to grow bigger from the time they entered twenty minutes ago. It almost made your heart jump from what that could help you pay off.

“You gonna take care of our boy, [Y/N]?” His suggestion coming off like a barking order. You gonna help take care of our boy, or else, kind of order. You couldn't help but think that they just didn't want him ruining their mood and wanting to fuck anything that moved instead of actually wanting him to have a good time.

The blond guy's face flinched , as one of the waitresses put down a drink in front of him and turned away almost immediately. He seemed to relax a bit but not that much, and that wasn't going to make most of the dancers here spend much time with him if it seemed like he wasn't capable of ponying up.

You didn't pay attention to the loud one. Instead, you offered a heartwarming smile to the one practically sitting on his own in the crowded booth as you maneuvered over to him.

“It's a little loud in here,” you leaned over, remarking.

All he could do was nod his head. You sighed, deeply. Your closest friend who was already joined at the hip to a svelte guy with way too much oil in his slicked back hair gave you a look of pity, and then forced a laugh to whatever he said.

Your hand reached over to his face, redirecting his eyes to meet your gaze. “Why don't we go somewhere a little more private?” you asked, leaning over close enough for him to smell your perfume. Maybe close enough for him to feel, I don't know, safer, at ease.

His eyes were blue. Soft yet sharp, even warm. You didn't expect that being this close to him. With a quick nod of his head, he stood up with more confidence than what you expected. Taking your head in his, you saw the first glimpse of a smile, even if it was a shy one, as his friends howled behind him and threw down more money for the dancers making out on stage.

You led him through to a private suite, with one of the security guards eyeing the both of you as you walked through the threshold. You heard him give a big sigh, making you catch a glimpse of him running his palms over the highs of his jeans. Damn, he was good looking.

“That better,” you noted, as he looked around warily before sitting down in the main both across from you.

You were sure he had to be 6'3'. Probably 250 or 300 lbs covered in pure muscle. He could beat the shit out of every jerk in this place and not break a sweat. Yet, with the way he was sitting on the pleather couch, his shoulders hunched forward and unsure what to do with his hands, he looked like a lost golden retriever. It made you swallow hard, not wanting to buy into all of these small signs of genuine humility. A part of you wanted to swear it an act, and that's what made you focus more on the audio player to find your favorite playlist to collect your thoughts.

A soothing yet sultry saxophone blared out from the speakers. You glided over to him, his eyes finally darting all over your body. You swore it was the first time he was registering exactly where he was. You started moving your hips, swaying and feeling the lump of cash at the bottom of your one heel. At least if you couldn't get anything out of him, you had that pad of take-ins for the night.

“What's your name,” you asked. Your mind couldn't help but think if you had actually seen him before. Not here, but somewhere else.

“Steve,” he offered, his voice much deeper than you expected, so deep that you could feel it light a fire under your skin.

“Those your friends outside, Steve?” you prompted, rolling closer to him, encouraging the closeness to prompt him to lean back. “You guys celebrating a promotion?”

He let out a tentative no, but there was something in his tone that made you believe it was a full-on rejection of the idea. His eyes were zeroing in on your movements. Finally.

“You getting married soon?” Maybe that was the reason for his reclusive nature, he's got a woman at home and doesn't want to mess up his future. It almost settled a sense of relief in you, to know a good one was still out there.

“I'm just busy at work. I don't get much time off,” he said. You exhaled a sight of relief bigger than you anticipated. You almost swore, with the way his neck perked up, he heard it. “The guys wanted me to unwind.”

You rolled your back down to the ground, grabbing your heels, making sure to stick your ass in his face and sway your hips a bit. When you pretended to play with your calves, at this point just improving your front legged stretch from yoga class, you caught a glimpse of Steve's jaw clenching shut.

So, he is an ass man too. For some reason, the observation took to the back of your mind like a note that you could use for later...but surely you wouldn't.

You sighed, rolling upwards and turning around to move in on him.

“Relax,” you told him, your hands opening up the lapel of his jacket and letting your hands briskly grab his shoulders. “I'm not gonna bite.”

You couldn't lie the polite gentleman act was cute. A part of you felt like you wanted to take care of him, show him it was okay to want someone and be wanted. Another part wanted you to help him break free of it, see the fuckboy that was surely hiding underneath. It would be a shame to have all those muscles and tension, and never work them out, especially on you.

“You can if you want to,” whispering close to his ear, hoping the words would make a difference. You whipped your long hair to the side, exposing your neck close to his face, and trying to convince yourself there wasn't a selfish incentive behind it.

“Hmmm,” was all he could muster.

You nod your head in the direction of the sign. NO TOUCHING.

He peered slightly up at you, as your hips rest easy several inches over the tent in his pants. It surprised you how much he seems to be asking for permission without any words. You bite your lips was all he needed as his hands grabbed hold of your waist, firmer than you ever anticipated. He helps plant you over him, the most intimate you were with anyone that night, for as long as you could possibly remember.

“You don't let anyone get this close to you, “ you smooth your hips over and over his, letting his hard member get as close to the apex between your legs as possible without real penetration. “Huh, big boy.” You mean that as an end to the sentence, but can't help but moan instead.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, applying pressure to give you an idea of the kind of restraint he's grasping onto. There is more to him afterall...

Both of you get caught up in the motions, spending what seems like an eternity, letting your hands roam all over each other's bodies, your lips toying with kissing but always leaving him wanting more. Neither of you notice that a more than couple of songs have gone by since he first cupped you into his lap.

You try your best to direct your hips to brush over his more than anything, but more often than not, you're pretty much riding his thigh. You could tell he's holding onto his composure with everything he has by how tense his muscle feel even though his clothes. He lets you practically take off his jacket as you brace yourself against his shoulders and firm chest. And, surprisingly, he seems to have no problems with it. You also have no problems with his calloused yet gentle hands cupping your breasts or gripping your ass, depending on how he alternates between them both.

You roll your hips across his member that's padding and protected by the clothing the two of you still have on. The pleasure you feel sparks your body alive with goosebumps, a tingle all the way down to your toes, feeling so close to euphoria. All of this and he's not even penetrating you. All you could imagine is how much real attention he would give to you, and he really is big underneath you, maybe the biggest yet most devoted one you would ever get from someone at the club or outside of it.

Just when you felt on the precipice of coming undone, you hear a loud banging on the door. And remnants of what sounds like his friends shouting and then laughing on the other side. Of course, the security guard, Max, getting involved as well, you could only imagine either threatening to kick them or kick their asses.

Steve completely relaxed into the cushions, making you take note of his hair disheveled and his hands left supporting your back. You don't remember when but your hands are practically gripping the rim of the booth over him, as your faces are nose to nose. You were probably worse for wear, reminding yourself to check your make-up and hair before going back on the floor. You both are left to do more than start catching your breath.

It takes you a second to realize – the music's moved onto some obnoxious pop song at random. It further thrusts you out of the moment. Definitely not something that will get the most out of your remaining customers.

And, that thought brings you back to reality.

You were actually longer in here with him than your regulars. You probably gave your co-workers the wrong impression of what was going on. Your boss was gonna be pissed.

And, you want to fight this moment of having to go back to work. Because you actually had a nice time for once.

You try not to move as hastily as possible off of him, not enough to put him off from coming back at least. You take your time, managing to straighten out what little clothing you have on and finding a way to stand between his legs.

“Did I manage to help you,” you ask, in a soft tone, trying not to think of how wet you are between your legs and desperate you'll be by the time you get home to take a cold shower.

He stands to meet you as close as possible, his eyes never leaving your face. You breathe in what's left of his warm cologne in the room that feels quickly colder without his embrace. His hands reach into his pockets, and then his wallet. You almost don't want to accept, or look what he is going to offer. He unblinkingly pulls out a wad of cash.

“In more ways than one,” he mentions, softly.

All you could think of in that moment is how your hand is impossibly tiny in his, as he slips you almost double than what is in your heel. And, it almost scares you how little you care about the money you earned, and more about the possibility of never seeing him again.

Sneak peek of Part 2 (coming later this weekend): “No kissing,” you shake your head and try your hardest not to bite your lip. You don't want to make the wrong impression he has on you even worse. “is a rule of mine.”

Without missing a beat, but with a spark in those heavenly blue eyes you missed so much, his tongue darts between his teeth quickly, and he says, “How about eating, then?”

[rainydayfix]

I was wondering if you could please write some relationship headcanons for my man Anders Lassen? I’m begging for a crumb of content

My apologies this answer took so long <3 I've had this on the books for a while but work took over and haven't been able to log on at all. Hope you enjoy!

always runs hot/warm to the touch. it doesn't quite catch your attention when you hold his hand, but to be really close to him is like always being near a heating lamp lol very comforting in winter and yet seems cool in spring and summer

you are his one and only distraction - whether it's interrupting his thoughts, having a conversation, etc. one look at you and his mind goes blank

get the feeling he doesn't know how to be in a relationship, like he's not helpless or clueless but he struggles to understand your love language and sometimes you need to remind him to show up for you, not to be so reclusive all the time

when he does show up for you, he's very romantic, cups your face when he kisses, likes to put on a record and slow dance, a lot of candlelight dinners with something he made, he goes for the small gestures a lot but they go long away to show he's paying attention and you're on his mind

has a very quiet confidence that takes you back sometimes, like he doesn't need to telegraph his prescence all the time (probably because his natural intensity and his muscles do that all on its own)

he follows your cues in bed; usually soft but passionate. if you want it harder, it may take him a second to get on board, but then he'll have you anyway that you let him and thensome

[rainydayfix]

Three’s A Crowd pairing: Female Reader x Anders Lassen x Gus March Phillips summary: Sometimes a Danish officer needs a big push to claim what is his.

warnings: 18+ content (MINORS DNI!!!), Threesome (Missionary, Slight choking, Oral, Fingering, Riding, Rough Kissing, double teaming, An*l, Voyeurism)

word count: 3.1k

Notes: Please do not copy, steal, etc. My ask box is currently open if you want to send fic ideas / imagines / etc.

You didn’t mind the company of Gus getting into a dicking contest with Anders. He was mostly reserved, but there was a spark when he was around, that made another side emerge - one that was more showy, more extroverted, more like he wanted to ensure your eyes were only on him.

Except Gus seemed pointed to get your attention as well. Although you were all for Anders, Gus wasn’t a hard sell either; Anders mostly let loose in combat. He was a force to be reckoned with that no one saw coming. On the other hand, Gus’s bravado was a fuse that never relented. You could see it in his smirk, the tip of his brow, the way he walked, he was always up to something. It made you desire what the both of them together would be like. A string of laughter and seemingly harmless round of darts charged the tension before quieting down again.

Anders muscle flexed through his shirt with a special intensity. You made a habit of drinking other men under the table, but the heat between you already a few cups in with Anders, and now Gus, you suggested getting fresh air. Judging by the unrelenting grasp Anders had on his drink, the strain was about to hit a breaking point. Grabbing your jackets, Anders places yours around your shoulders making a show to shake Gus’s hand in the way out.

You thought you could hear Gus’s tort reply by the time you reached the front door.

You wanted to blame the cobblestone roads as you wobbled walking alongside Anders. This might be the first time you’ve really let go of your composure, trying to bring his arm around your waist to let your head rest on his shoulder. You inhale and exhale deeply trying to take in the chill air as the warmth of the pub faded away.

“Maybe we should take a breather, hmmm?” He said, tugging you closer to him and pulling you into a corner of an alleyway. Your back nudged against a brick wall behind you, bringing him to step in closer. You made it look like you’re gonna caress him in all the right places, and instead reached for the halfway empty bottle of gin.

“After all this time, you still don’t think I can hold my own?” you ask before taking a swig of the bottle.

“I think you can…mostly, I need you to hold your own,” he said, practically pressing you into the hard edges of the building behind you. “You might be barely able to walk down these cobblestones tomorrow morning after I have my rightful way with you.” It’s been six months since the last time you saw each other, much longer than what you two had anticipated, but the war in left you both in dire straits and improvising your way through. Times like these were rare and impossible, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of it to get you through the other side when it all ended.

You hurriedly pressed your lips against his, reaching your hands to his neck and pulling you in. The bottle shattered against the road as Anders gripped your thighs and hoisted you upwards, giving you enough leverage to wrap your legs around his waist. Your mouth searched his frantically, hands and lips everywhere as he squeezes you tighter, close enough to feel a slight of his hardness through his trousers. Laughter of drunken soldiers filing out of the bar down the block spills out over the street.

“Why don’t we do this with less company around?”

“Is that the only time you can have your rightful way with me, Officer?”

There are many looks Anders has given you when he wants you all to himself. Maybe it was because of the dimly lit alleyway, you trying to sober up for the potential that lay ahead, but this look on his face mystifies you – a mix of defiance, of daring, and validation.

Your hand grips his while he leads the way, jogging through the streets to the shabbiest flat nestled in a string of shabbier rooms for rent. “All expenses paid by king and country.”

His room was decorated with two chairs, a bed in middle of the space, a dresser closet. Next to the dresser was a second door. You’ve seen and slept in worse.

“Gus has the next one over.”

You shrug out of your jacket and tug your sweater from your skirt before grabbing his spare bottle of whiskey from the shelf. You noted a worn envelope that appeared to have your handwriting on the front. So he does keep your letters, you think, as you kneel down to remove your heels.

His eyes on you as he matched your pace, taking off his leather jacket and unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt, moving towards you. Anders frees your distracted mind for a second, placing his hand on your waist and turning you to face him. You swig back liquor, and when his mouth meets yours, you pour what you could into his. Some of it dribbles down both your chins causing you to laugh, and let your tongues dance together.

The one thing about fucking a Danish officer, no matter how rebellious he was with his crew, is that he could still agonizingly take time to make his move. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Was his skin tingling the way yours was? Was he as hard as you were wet? It was up to you to to find out and you really don’t mind. A release was gonna happen one way or another.

Even in your partially inebriated state, you manage to push him back a step, desiring to ignite a fire in him. You crawl up on the bed, catching his risen eyebrows and his jaws clenched, not taking his eyes off you trying to place the bottle and his glasses back on the dresser stand. You remove your blouse to reveal a bra with a waist slip and tug the worm skirt and stockings off as far as you can. He steps towards you, almost in a trance finishing to remove the left of what was left of the stockings, his hands grazing your back when you reached for his buckle.

In one swift motion, the belt hit the floor with his pants, and your hand sneaks into his boxers - “There you are,” you said gleaming, running your hand up and down his length before slowly lowering yourself on the bed and he follows. He leaves a trail of kisses down your breasts and stomach ready while his hand gingerly caresses your swollen nub and brings the wetness up to his lips.

You’re sure that he whispers “sød”, and your small recollection of times Anders has tried teaching you Danish, reminds you that he means sweet. You’re wet and ready for him, whatever he has to give with his hands rubbing over and under your slit. His concentration and confidence only strengthened your want of him more as his cupped hand burrowed inside swiftly moving in and out of you, your wetness, your moans filling the room. Once you’re barely over the edge, refusing to let you have your fill, he crawls up along the bed next to you, fully splaying out with his hard on, and raises his arms above his head, waiting. If he was anyone else, you’d shake or slap him from the gall he has not to let you come, but Anders gives a look of such want and respect, that you crawl over his, letting your fingers trace down from his broad shoulders to his chest and the little nape of dirty blonde hair to his cock. There you reached down, still reeling from his hard he is, how sensitive he must feel to come too and placed him at your entrance. Once he’s fully sheathed, you start rocking back and forth. His hand entwined with yours on his chest, then soothed over your arms and towards your hips. He settled there, gripping so hard you swear he’s gonna make a mark on you. It’s not long before you’re finding a rhythm together, and your body is catching up to where you were minutes before. Grunts of his native language filling the room with your desperate moans and sighs. You lean over him as his hands forcefully rock you harder, it’s hard to ignore how deep he is as you grind on him.

“I’m so close,” you huffed, your face close to his as he slams his hips upwards towards yours. Your eyes clasp shut as his lips latch onto every part of your bare skin, and his hands pin down your hips shuddering around him. You’re starting to catch your breath as every inch of your skin tingles with euphoria, when the side door swings open causing you both to jump. There he stands in the door frame wearing a tattered long sleeved shirt, rustic pants, untied boots, and a steely determined gaze.

Gus raises a glass of scotch to his lips, “Thought it’d be a good idea to put faces to the noises of my neighbors…” Closing the door behind him and placing the bottle on the dresser. “If you can’t beat them….”

The energy returns to what it was in the pub, except you know Gus is making you a contest instead of darts, or drinks, or machismo on the battlefield. You’re not sure if it’s shock or intrigue that purses Anders lips closed, but you’re almost shocked by his lack of rejection. You are his, but maybe you need him to prove to you just how much.

Just when he seems to make a move, pull you closer to him, you climb out of the bed, walking towards Gus and taking a sip of scotch from the bottle instead of the glass. After running a hand on your wet lips, waiting for Anders to say something, anything, you finally make the move for him.

“Join me.”

Your eyes are settled on Anders and you swear you can see him flex his muscles as he gets out of the bed. For half a second you thought he’d throw a punch, instead he drinks from the same Scotch bottle as Gus grabs you by the waist and land his lips on you, his tongue working his way to meet yours. Surprisingly, things heat up quickly between you, and before you know it you’re both rushing to remove all his clothes. You slip your fingers to your mouth and down to your slit as he raises you against the wall and enters.

The quick entry makes you gasp, he’s just as big as Anders but feels different. The first few strokes are long and slow before Gus grumbles ‘fuck it’, and delivers the pace he wants, hard and firm. He presses you tightly against the wall, no other place to look except in Anders unreadable expression. You’re completely pinned, your legs sprung in the air, with nothing to do but hold onto Gus and looking towards Anders as Gus takes you. It’s not long before you’re coming, not that he cares if you did, but at least you did. He seems satisfied enough, carrying you over to the bed where he withdraws, teasing how he wants to use you next.

Before he set you up on all fours, Anders saunters over- “my turn.” There’s a twisted sense of pride in his voice. “Her mouth is just as good.”

Your jaw drops out of surprise and you barely have time to add snark back when both of them steadily flip you over.

Anders pads you well across the mattress as Gus kneels in a similar position in front of your face, leaving you to take his hardness in your mouth, taking him as far as you could go and using your hand to stroke what was left. Your attentive rhythm of long and slow and quick and short strokes barely wavers when Gus held your hair from your face and his hips slightly bucked into your mouth. Anders hands are on your hips, pushing you back with such new intensity you never felt with him before. Taking them both makes you feel full, more than you could ever imagined but feels even better. You can’t help but moan against Gus, vibrations running up his body that results in a slap against your hips - surely leaving enough of a raw hand print to make Anders jealous.

You hear Gus say “such a good girl, she really can take it all,” with a few deep moans. He deviates between heavy grunting like a wild animal and soft gentle groaning before Gus lets you up for air. Uou start to come on Anders cock, grunting as he feels himself milking you for all your worth before grabbing you by the forearms and twisting you upwards - your breasts and front fully exposed to Gus. He smirks at you, moving closer as Anders halts his movements, his hardness still inside you. His restraint comes through with heavy breathing on your neck, as if to say ‘he can’t have his way with you without me.’

You’re sandwiched between the two of them, waiting when Gus wraps one hand around your neck and pulls you in for a heated kiss. The force of it contracts Anders arms to try to hold you closer and tighter as Gus’s lips tightly engulfs your mouth roughly, barely giving a chance to duel with your mouth, one of his hands reaching at your neck, the other playing with your breasts.

Anders released your arms just slightly, enough to reposition himself straighter and taller behind you, your breast releasing from Gus mouth before he finds you again.

“Please,” you whimper. But you’re not sure who you’re whimpering too. You just need more of a release and want one of them to break the coil inside you first.

Anders hips buck slightly before stopping again in refusal, when Gus reaches between your legs with one hand. First he pad your folds, taking an uncharacteristic amount of time teasing you. When his other hand reached you to twist your nipple, you guided it to your neck for him to hold. Something you’ve only ever given Anders permission to do.

He thought he was getting you to face the gauntlet you threw down, of having Gus take you. Instead you used that against him, forcing him to watch another try to lay claim. The thought causes Anders to grunt and inadvertently tug on your arms behind your back. Gus, finally realizing he was just a pawn for your greater schemes, squeezes harder as his other hand finds the magic combination of strokes against your slit. He railes his hand between your folds, forcing you to look into his eyes, demanding you come for him. The relentless thumping of his hand practically fisting you and the wetness between your legs mixed in with your whimpering, and Anders grunting ‘do it, go ahead’ as he swiftly moves you against him, you found the release you so desperately needing. Gus eased his hand enough for you catch your breath as you saw stars and a white streak around you. When your focus comes into view, Anders releases your arms and pushing your back into the mattress. Gus isn’t stepping down without a fight. As Anders splays you out, you feel his head between your legs, soothing what Gus left over sensitive. You want to weave your hand through his hair but something is holding you back. Gus pinned both your arms down, while his tongue rolls over your nipples, your view of hi, hovering partially obstructing Anders. When you make a sob-like noise, unrecognizable sign of pleasure and over stimulation even to yourself, you barely feel Anders tongue leave your precious nub causing your legs from his shoulders and he places his hands on your thighs. A gentle tug towards the middle of the bed is enough to send a final warning to Gus.

“Mine.” In clear English.

It’s too much to bear - your eyes drift over the room with your hands reaching out to brush his abs or arms, to give you something to hold onto. Anders brings you closer still, caressing your folds with his finger then to his tongue. “Sod.” Sweet as if we’re going back to the start of our evening together. He replaced his finger where it is with his desire, and you’re reminded so easily how you both are the right fit for each other. He starts a steady motion, before locking you underneath him, your legs on his shoulders. You gasp at the sensation of how deep he is, causing your head falls back and your eyes catches Gus. He’s sitting naked in the wooden chair across from you - a glass of scotch in one hand, stroking himself with the other. Underneath the heavy mustache, you think see a smirk. Anders’ thrusting grow harsher, gliding back and forth and you feel the slightest pressure against your slit. He burrowed his finger there causing you to lift your head back, your focus on him. His eyes are boring into you like we’ve had our fun tonight but ultimately you are his and his alone. The build up in between your legs unfurl when he moves over you like a lion protecting its claim, all of his body weight presses your smaller frame into the mattress. The sweat of the evening’s efforts glide over his back and onto you; couldn’t help but lick the salty residue off his shoulders followed by wet kisses to match. You felt the last orgasm you have to give tonight reaching its high, and Anders knowingly swept your arms up and over your head and held them there. From behind the bed, you could swear you heard Gus - “that’s it, take it, take it…” and Anders grunting like you’ve never heard him before, but he says “You’re mine. All mine,” almost as clear as day. He leans back giving you a fuller view of his muscles and the sweat glistening in his chest. Your legs are clasped underneath you, tight enough around his chiseled ass but loose enough for him to ruthlessly glide in and out of you.

All you could hear was your combined heavy breathing, your rampant heartbeat, and the sound of a belt being picked up off the floor. You barely managed to see above you, just enough for the door to close and the chair next to the bed to be empty. The only words to form from your mouth, “Only want you….” uttered out from your lips as the last peak sent you into shockwaves of bliss.

You managed to finalize as Anders burrows over and over, holding your head in his hands, and burying himself into you. You feel one release after another, all the pent up aggression and passion finding a home inside. When he finally relents and releases, Anders finishes with a final “For altid.” Forever.

[rainydayfix]

Alan Ritchson as Anders Lassen THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE (2024) Dir: Guy Ritchie

[rainydayfix]

Alan Ritchson as Anders Lassen THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE (2024) Dir: Guy Ritchie

[rainydayfix]

THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE (2024) Dir: Guy Ritchie

[rainydayfix]

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare Alan Ritchson as Anders Lassen

[rainydayfix]

Hey!! - I know I haven't updated here in a long time. Last year was a big journey of healing from a toxic work environment. And, even though I'm still working at the same place (in a different department, 2024 has been busy. I'm currently moving, and just started writing more on my phone at work.

There is more coming - a chapter two to Take One, Joel Miller/This Is Us one shot, Ungentlemanly Warfare with Anders and Gus, Hangman/Jake Seresin, maybe a lesbian Black Widow and/or Captain Marvel, basically smutty smutsmut.

It may also be a very long shot, but I may be adding something like kofi or buymeacoffee to my posts - just under the notes or summary or something...because I do take a long time to write them, and if anyone feels like tipping or something, the option will be available. :)

[rainydayfix]

time to get into the festive mood

[rainydayfix]

Okay we had nomad Steve turning up in the middle of the night and that was hot as hell. What about when he has to leave though? 🥺

Oh, you had to go and make me feel things, didn't you? 😭

Word Count: Around 500.

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, very brief smut.18+.

Waking in Steve's arms never gets tiresome. Being pulled tight against that broad chest, the heat of his body warming your cheek. The scrape of his beard against your forehead, still damp from feasting between your thighs.

You don't get a lot of sleep when he's around - and you're not mad about it. Once in a blue moon, you get to have him like this. Get to have him to yourself. Not Captain America, but Steve Rogers. And every second spent with him, you treasure.

"Good morning, sunshine." He gruffs, arms squeezing you tighter for a moment - his perfect lips brushing your nose as you lift your head to look at him.

You could lose yourself in his sleepy gaze, eyelids still hooded from slumber. He sees you wince when you prop yourself up on his chest, looking you over with concern - his eyes falling to the purple welts on your collarbone from his lustful assault.

It doesn't stop him from filling you up once more, though. He's always more careful in the mornings, always gentle and tender. Because he knows what's to come. What always has to happen. No matter how much you both despise it. Whispers of affection and promises to return. And every single time, they bring you to tears.

You make him breakfast. Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, fruit, fresh juice - more food than any normal human being could stomach. Being away from him for months at a time makes you want to look after him, makes you want to remind him that there'll always be someone waiting for him to come home. Someone who wants him for more than just his strength and his honor.

He fucks you again. Lifts you onto the kitchen counter like you weigh nothing, settles himself between your legs and savours it - your pussy still quivering from the countless orgasms he's already pulled from your exhausted body.

You shower together, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and your ear pressed up against his thumping heart. You'd stay beneath the hot spray, hidden away from the world, forever if he asked you to.

Goodbye is never easy. You hold it together, always. You know he doesn't want to leave, know that the life he's living now isn't the one he'd hoped for when he came out of the ice.

There are always dozens of last kisses, always hesitation when he moves to step out of the front door. You tell him it's okay - that you love him. Tell him to call you when he can, and come back when he's able. He always promises that he will. But every time he does, you wonder if it's a promise he can keep.

[rainydayfix]

@fandom-basurero asked; we have fallen down the rabbit hole thanks to TikTok I’m sorry if you get another ask like this because I’m curious on how you’d write it. But I was wondering if you’re down to write a sugar daddy!steve work but like steve is like a ceo.

Ask and you shall receive again another attempt at a head-canon but no idea if it actually is one 😅

Due to me liking this so much I will be writing a Oneshot or a compilation of oneshots of this man...

Steve Grant Rogers, head CEO and partner of Rogers & Barnes co. upon first glance one might assume that the well dressed, well kept blue-eyed blonde was just that - well kept and overall well mannered, but upon further interaction one might find that he was far from it.

Steve was a man of power, and he was very well aware of the power he held over the company and most importantly his employees

He liked things to be done in a certain fashion and wasn’t afraid to voice his distaste to his employees when things weren’t done the way it had been asked.

“This is all wrong, I sent you the template, it’s copy and paste are you that incompetent?” “Go back and do it again till you get it right!” “Guess you’re working over hours.”

And it was because of this brash attitude towards his employees that Steve could hardly keep a secretary, it seemed there was no individual out there that could handle not only his workload but him as well.

“Steve this is the what, the tenth secretary that’s turned in a two weeks notice in two weeks, you gotta lighten up man this girl is our last hope, and you better not mess it up pal I can’t go through another hiring process because you can’t keep your thoughts to yourself!”

You had truly been Bucky’s last hope for Steve, your resume and interview had impressed the grey eyed brunette so much so that he asked if you’d be willing to do a trial run, Bucky wasn’t stupid he had picked up a thing or two, and if he was being honest he didn’t want to promise you the position and then have you huffing out of the office days later cursing Stevens name to the grave.

“He can be a bit much,and listen if he’s too much there won’t be any hard feelings if you decide this position isn’t for you,” he had felt the need to add as he walked you down the hall to which you replied.

“You must not have met my previous boss, I assure you Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers won’t be any trouble for me.”

Steve hadn’t been sure what to expect when Bucky marched into his office you meeting him stride per stride, a look of pure determination on your features ‘that’s sweet’ he thought, you actually thought you’d make it here, he gave you a week.

A week had seemingly turned into two, which turned into three, then four and before either men could have ever guessed you were well on your way to being under Steve Rogers direction for over a month.

“You should get her something,” Bucky had mused under his breath one evening as they were working over annual reports, your form not too far from theirs as you had taken it upon yourself to correct some of the work of the other employees that had made minor mistakes. “Y/n has done more work than most of our employees and your old secretaries combined, show her she’s appreciated and that you’re not the ass everyone says you are under their breath,” Steve scoffed as he looked over to his partner but then looked over to where you were, piles of files somehow neatly placed on your desk as you worked away. “Finish the paperwork buck, I’d like to be at the bar before it gets packed.

It wasn’t Bucky’s words that had him walking into the office earlier than his usual time a day later, nor had it been Bucky’s words that had him passing you a bag along with a bouquet of roses, his ma had taught him manners especially when it came to women, or at least that’s what he would tell himself.

It should have been a one time deal, getting you a gift that was, it was only supposed to be his way of thanking you for putting in the work he had seen you go above and beyond for, but he found himself liking how it felt, liking how he felt after giving you those things, liked the reaction he got out of you.

You’d coo’d at the first gift eyes immediately beaming up at your boss as you placed his gifts neatly on your desk. Regardless of how uptight Steve had come across with you from the get go you had still managed to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders your painted pink lips pressing to his cheek as you thanked him, your thumb rubbing away at the stain left behind.

Steve realized then that day as he was tucked into the quiet of his office that he had liked that feeling you had brought him then, so much so that he decided he’d like to feel it once more.

So the one time thing turned to two, then three, then four, and on the fifth you had so much as held up a hand stopping him before he could place the bag down on your desk, “Steven I can’t except any more of these gifts, you haven’t even opened the ones I’ve got you!” He smiled then, actually smiled, something no one in the office aside from Bucky and now you had been given the privilege to see, “you didn’t have to get me anything I-” “then you don’t have to get me anything either,” you argued, “besides the office is starting to talk and I know you’ve heard there not so quiet whispers.”

Steve had heard the not so quiet whispers, but he thought nothing of it, because for him nothing else mattered the only thing that mattered was what he felt, the feeling that you brought him. “Does it bother you that people are calling you my sugar baby?”

“What would bother you more,” you questioned back, “being known as a sugar baby or a pillow princess?” Steve raised a brow at that, “Now I can’t except anymore gifts until you except mine.” “I’ll try and except them,” he answers, “but I’m not doing this to receive things from you, I like how it makes me feel,” you’re given another smile before he’s turning his feet towards his office, “oh y/n and so you know I wouldn’t mind you as either.”

[rainydayfix]

Making a Mess

Requested?: Yes

Summary: After your boyfriend had teased you all day, he was more than happy to give you what you needed that evening. 

Warnings: NSFW! 18+. SMUT. Swearing. Unprotected Sex. Squirting. Overstimulation. Oral Sex (Female Receiving). 

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader

Authors Note: This one took a lot longer than I planned. I’ve been questioning my writing skills a lot lately and I ended up writing four different variations of this story. This is the only one I didn’t hate. I hope you guys like it!

Steve Rogers was basically a dream boyfriend. He was kind, loving, protective, and always knew how to make you smile. All of those characteristics are ones you could probably guess just from looking at him. What you didn’t expect when you first started dating was that Steve Rogers would be such a fucking tease. 

All day long, you had been running around the tower, trying to get some training and work done after returning from a mission yesterday. You had a lot to do, and it only made the day even more stressful each time your boyfriend came around. 

The first time was this morning in the gym. He had been training without a shirt, knowing damn well he’d have you practically drooling in about ten minutes. After that, he insisted you shower with him, which of course you did. You were most definitely down for shower sex. But did that happen? No. The most contact you got was when he was lathering your skin with your favorite body wash. His soapy hand slid down your body, and cupped your sex, gently rubbing it as his chest pressed against your back. His lips were sucking and nibbling over your neck and shoulders, only turning you on more. 

Keep reading

[rainydayfix]

Peggy: Why are you putting on sunscreen?

Steve: Because I'm gonna get sunburned.

Peggy: We're not even outside.

Steve: You're my sunshine.

[rainydayfix]

MUSIC ASKS these are actually pretty hard but why not.

1: A song you like with a color in the title

2: A song you like with a number in the title

3: A song that reminds you of summertime

4: A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

5: A song that needs to be played LOUD

6: A song that makes you want to dance

7: A song to drive to

8: A song about drugs or alcohol

9: A song that makes you happy

10: A song that makes you sad

11: A song that you never get tired of

12: A song from your preteen years

13: One of your favorite 80’s songs

14: A song that you would love played at your wedding

15: A song that is a cover by another artist

16: One of your favorite classical songs

17: A song that would sing a duet with on karaoke

18: A song from the year that you were born

19: A song that makes you think about life

20: A song that has many meanings to you

21: A favorite song with a person’s name in the title

22: A song that moves you forward

23: A song that you think everybody should listen to

24: A song by a band you wish were still together

25: A song by an artist no longer living

26: A song that makes you want to fall in love

27: A song that breaks your heart

28: A song by an artist with a voice that you love

29: A song that you remember from your childhood

30: A song that reminds you of yourself

[rainydayfix]

˗ˏˋ CHRIS EVANS as Cole Turner in GHOSTED (2023)

[rainydayfix]

Ghosted (2023)

[rainydayfix]

PEDRO PASCAL as JOEL MILLER The Last of Us | 1.01 “When You’re Lost in the Darkness”