#and also seedy n sleazy feelings

[wastemanjohn]

johndeanna moodboard-ish // lana del rey - mermaid motel

[drakenology]

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki. 

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside. 

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree. 

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door. 

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this. 

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away. 

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki. 

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit. 

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest. 

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?” 

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep. 

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes. 

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men. 

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch. 

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21. 

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round. 

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table. 

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think. 

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him. 

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside. 

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall. 

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill. 

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.” 

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that. 

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed. 

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him. 

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body. 

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot. 

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it. 

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now. 

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch. 

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request. 

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go. 

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still. 

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers. 

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head. 

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand. 

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all. 

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi. 

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes. 

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him. 

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe. 

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life. 

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head. 

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you. 

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot. 

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark. 

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release. 

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum. 

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm. 

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up. 

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind. 

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed. 

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow. 

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame. 

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks. 

bitch i.. i’m sick. 

[iwillbeinmynest]

The Monte Carlo Job - Steve x Reader(f)   Chapter 2

Authors Notes: Here comes Part 2 Y'all! I hope you are enjoying this series. I know it came out of nowhere but I was feeling sad and wanted to just post something so I started a new series, even though I haven’t finished my last one... Anywayyysss, Have some more Steve!

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes/Warnings: Your typical action/MI type trope. There is glitz and glam as well as running for your life and fighting to stay alive. Bad guys and allies, guns and galas. Mentions of death, one sleazy and creepy guy who makes one too many passes, use of guns, fighting, drinking, being framed for murder and clearing your name. It’s a wild ride folks!

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Y/N and Steve walked hand in hand back to the main floor of the museum where the actual Gala was being held.

The grand room was littered with tall tables and waiters with trays of glasses. There was a quartet in the back corner playing classical music and a small stage to the right with a lone microphone on it.

Bucky waved at them through the crowd and caught Steve’s eye.

“There you two are.” Nat smiled when they reached the table. “What were you up to, huh?”

Y/N shook her head. “Not what you think, we actually looked at the art.”

“Of course you were,” Bucky said. “Cause Stevie, here, wouldn’t dare do anything scandalous.”

“I would.” Steve defended himself. “I just happen to know the guy in charge of security and I know that all of the cameras are running.”

They chuckled.

“So,” Y/N looked around the room. “Who’s the target?”

Steve raised his brows as he scanned the floor. “Not sure yet. I recognize a few faces so I’ll have to make my rounds but I’ll let you know when I need a trophy on my arm to close a deal.”

Y/N smacked his arm and Nat and Bucky laughed.

“Please,” Y/N laughed, “If anything, you’re the trophy in this relationship.”

“She’s right.” Nat gracefully snatched two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. Bucky did the same. “You should hear the dirty things the women at our spin class say when you pick us up every thursday.”

“Excuse me?” Steve’s eyes widened.

Y/N laughed. “Oh come on, sweetheart. Girls will be girls, right?”

Nat held up her glass for a toast, “Here’s to another fantastic evening together. May we land a new client or have a blast tryin’.”

“Cheers!” They all raised their glasses.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Y/N and Nat usually stuck together and tonight was no different. They were standing a few tables over speaking with what Steve could only presume were other wives and girlfriends.

Steve and Bucky had been making their rounds, speaking with previous clients and making new acquaintances. These men were the richest of the rich, and that’s coming from Steve who lives beyond comfortably. The men tried to talk to Steve and Bucky about the military and people they knew that served.

It took Steve all he had not to roll his eyes, clearly these men had never seen war and the fact that they talked as though they had was infuriating.

“So, I say to the man,” A gentleman in an ascot smiled and waved his cigar around. “Either you pay me or I’ll send Howard!”

The other men around them laughed, Bucky and Steve smiled politely but shared a look.

“Well said, John.” Steve set a hand to the man’s back. “Excuse us.”

Both he and Bucky nodded and walked away from the table.

“I swear, Steve,” Bucky clenched his jaw and tried to take a subtle deep breath. “I don’t know why you make me come to these things.”

“I know,” Steve shook his head as they headed for Y/N and Nat. “But if I have to suffer, I’m not doing it alone.”

“I thought that’s why Y/N is here?”

“And make her listen to that crap, no way. I bring her so I can see her dolled up like that.” He nodded at his wife.

“We got lucky didn’t we?” Bucky watched Nat run her ring finger around the brim of her whiskey glass. She looked over and gave him a wink.

“That’s an understatement.” Steve smiled when Y/N followed Nat’s gaze and smiled at Steve.

Y/N and Nat excused themselves from the group of women and walked arm in arm to their husbands.

“You boys havin’ fun, yet?” Nat asked as she let go of Y/N and leaned into Bucky’s chest.

“Not at all.” He kissed the top of her head.

“How about you?” Steve asked Y/N.

She shrugged her shoulders, “Those women don’t know anything about what their husbands or boyfriends do. They’re just having a bragging party.”

“I wasn’t talking about prospective clients, babe, but I appreciate that your mind is on the company.”

Y/N smiled. “Well, you’re really gonna wish we’d landed one when you see the receipt for this dress.”

Steve closed his eyes and chuckled.

“Your girl has expensive taste.” Bucky teased his best friend.

“Nat picked it out.” Y/N clarified.

Both Steve and Bucky nodded.

“Now, see,” Steve grinned. “That makes more sense.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the side of Y/N’s head. “You ready to call it a night?”

“Yeah,” She smiled up at him. “I am.”

“Okay, then.” Steve held out his elbow and she wrapped her hand around it. “Shall we?”

As the two couples were making their way towards the exit, a man stepped out in front of them.

“Are you Mr. Rogers of Stealth Security?” The man asked. His Russian accent slowed his words but he spoke english well.

Steve held out a hand and the man took it in a firm shake. “I am. Have we met?”

“I’m afraid not.” The man straightened his spine and leaned his head back slightly. “My name is Petrov Lebedev and your reputation precedes you.” he grinned.

Steve raised his brows and lowered his arm, taking Y/N’s hand in his and squeezing it as an apology for staying longer. “Does it?”

“Yes. I have heard that you offer exceptional service in the matter of private security.”

A woman appeared at Petrov’s back. Y/N smiled at her but, the woman simply looked Y/N up and down then at Petrov.

Y/N was shocked at her blatant rudeness but kept quiet.

Beside her was another man, who could only be described as seedy. He was shorter than Steve but just as fit. His beard was stubbly and seemed to have a few scars in it where the hair no longer grew. He also eyed Y/N but in a way that made her squirm.

Steve didn’t miss that. He shifted his weight to land mostly in front of Y/N. “And who escorts you tonight?” Steve asked with very little patience, but he covered it with politeness to Petrov.

Petrov looked over and then back to Steve. “This is Sacha, my right hand and partner. And this,” He put an arm around the woman’s waist, tugging her forward. “Is Katryana.”

Steve nodded but didn’t address them. He turned to Bucky. “This is my partner, Bucky, and his wife, Natasha. And this,” he eyed Sacha hard, “Is my wife.”

Y/N straightened and tipped her head up. “Nice to meet you.” She made sure to only say that to Petrov, who hadn’t offended her, yet.

Petrov smiled then turned his attention to Steve. “I have an event coming up in three weeks in Monte Carlo and I am looking for a full team to escort myself, Sacha and Katryana around. I’m looking for everything from bodyguards to security during transportation and whatnot for the two days that we are there.”

Steve inhaled to speak but Petrov cut him off. “Money is no object and I assure you I can pay whatever you ask. Please, I want the best of the best and I have been promised that that is you.”

Steve recognized the touch of flattery but didn’t care for it.

“Well, how about I take your card and I will have my secretary check our schedule and see what we can come up with?” Steve offered. No way was he about to accept on the spot.

“Of course, of course,” Petrov smiled. “I do have one additional request though, which I understand might make a difference on the bill.”

Steve smiled and waited.

“I would like to see you there, personally. You can even bring your wife and make a trip of it, yes?”

Steve took a deep breath to unclinch his jaw and grinned. “We will consider it, schedule pending, of course.”

“Yes, of course.” Petrov pulled a card from the inside pocket of his coat. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Steve took it and slid it into his pocket without a glance. “Have a good evening.”

Steve took Y/N’s hand and escorted her to the foyer where all four of them collected their coats.

“I don’t like him, Steven.” Y/N said with a sigh. It was rare that she spoke out against a client but there was something about Sacha that she absolutely did not like.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He stood behind her as a shield, separating her from the ballroom, “We can discuss it on Monday. Forget about him for now.” He took her hand and kissed her palm.

Bucky huffed. “If Sacha had looked at Nat that way, I’d have laid him out right there.”

Steve snapped to Bucky and glared at him, “You think I didn’t want to?”

Bucky swallowed and took a breath. He held the door open for Nat and then Y/N and Steve. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you would, I just-”

Nat put her hand on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. “Let it go, baby.” She cooed and kissed him quickly.

Steve walked away to pay the valet. Y/N walked half way and waited for him.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N said sincerely when the valet ran off to bring the car around.

Steve looked at her curiously, his frustration fading slightly, “For what?”

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “All of that. Sacha, Petrov, Bucky. And you know he didn’t mean it like that, right? He was just as heated as you.”

“I really doubt that.” Steve grumbled.

“Steve,” She said his name with a tone that urged for his attention. He looked down at her. “I’m fine. Totally over it. He didn’t touch me, everything is fine.”

“He didn’t have to touch you, did you see-”

Bucky passed with Nat to retrieve their car and Steve inhaled sharply.

Just then the valet returned and handed the keys to Steve.

Y/N took his hands. “He loves you, and me. He just talks too much.” She offered a small smile.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He fiddled with the keys to his Tesla.

“Don’t be mad at Bucky for something you would have done if the situation was reversed.” Y/N added.

Steve nodded then pulled Y/N into a tight hug, kissing the crown of her head. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?” She looked up at him.

He leaned down, close enough to kiss her. “Fix everything.” He smiled against her mouth and kissed her softly.

Bucky and Nat approached calmly.

Y/N hugged Nat and Steve and Bucky clasped arms in a firm shake. Steve nodded to Bucky and Bucky nodded back.

“Have a good night.” Y/N said to Nat with a kiss to the cheek.

“We will, you too.” She smiled. Both of them were relieved to see the balance restored between their husbands.

Steve waved to Bucky as they walked off then turned to open the door for Y/N. She stopped close against him before she sat down into the car. “Thanks for protecting me.” She patted his chest.

He took her hand and held it over his heart, “Always.”

* * * * * * *

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[inkstaineddaughter]

Soft Drop Chapter 6: Date Night

Charlie/Reader

 Fluff, SMUUUT!!!

4,171 words

Despite the evening’s earlier unpleasantness, dinner is lovely, romantic even. Charlie looks amazed when your reach for his hand on the table and lace your fingers between his. “I can actually do this here,” you remind him, smiling like an absolute goon. “Where other people can see it too.”

There’s wine before and during dinner. And then more with dessert. And while it’s not enough to get sloppy, it’s still probably too much wine. But neither of you have to drive anywhere. And you’re both so enamored with each other and with the fact that you can be enamored with each other, it’s hard to tell what’s more intoxicating. 

“We’ll have to come back here,” Charlie says, glancing around the dining room after dessert. “Maybe after our shopping trip. We’ll make a whole day of it.” He does the finger quotes around the words “Shopping trip”, but it’s really not necessary. You know exactly what finger he’s talking about.

“I wonder if I could get away with wearing something on my right hand,” you muse and smile at the sight of your From Here to Eternity colored nails. They look so pretty in this light.  “Until things are settled, at least. And I could switch sides.”

Charlie shrugs and reaches for your hand. “You could put it on a chain around your neck. Keep it tucked into your shirt if you need to.” You can tell he likes the Secret Engagement idea about as much as you do (or as The Vicomte de Chagny does), but you can’t help laughing out loud at the thought of the ring-necklace. “If I wear it around my neck,” you ask playfully, “Does that mean we’re going steady?” Charlie tightens his grip on your hand. “Goddamn right it does.”

After paying the bill and calling you a cab, Charlie glances once more at his phone’s home screen before turning it off. All the way off. Sliding the button all the way. This feels like a big deal. Countless times, you’ve seen him make sure the phone is on vibrate or on silent, but he’s always remained on call for hysterical actors or hysterical lawyers or in case Henry might need to talk to his dad for whatever reason. You’ve never seen him cut off that communication, even temporarily.

You feel like a giddy schoolgirl on her first date when Charlie pulls you to him and kisses you under the streetlamp outside. You have several minutes to kill before the taxi arrives and it’s dark enough and still far enough away from home that it won’t matter if someone sees you. And making out on the sidewalk is a perfectly acceptable way to pass the time, even when you are an adult.

But while it does serve to pass the time, it also serves to wrap you up into each other tighter. Even without the wine, you’re drunk on his touch, how his lips taste as you slide your tongue over them.  Soon your hands find their way up under his jacket and you’re tugging on the back of his shirt as you pant into his open mouth.

It’s only a few feet to the alley that runs alongside the building and it isn’t long until Charlie pulls you into the darkness and presses you against the wall. He has you immobilized, trapped between his own body (with the very obvious hardness between his legs) and the building. “God, I love you so much!” he murmurs into your hair as he drags your leg up and hooks it over his. His hand slides up your skirt and, again stretches the elastic in your panties as he rubs it over your ass. “I don’t even want to go back home tonight,” he whines as he kneads into your soft flesh. “It’ll take too long. I just want to stop at the first cheap motel we see, get a room and just make you come all night long.  Fuck you on every surface.”  

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel like the next logical step in the Evolution of Charlie and (Y/N), long-time platonic BFF’s. It doesn’t feel like a one-time lapse in judgement or even like a selfish and unethical mid-divorce relationship (Jesus, could you keep your legs closed for just a little bit longer?) It feels like lying and cheating. It’s dirty like an honest-to-God affair. And holy shit, it’s hot as hell!

You want him to fuck you in every single seedy motel you can find, in every dark alley. In rehearsal spaces, before anyone else has arrived, when he tastes like coffee and toothpaste. Thrusting hard into you with his hand pressed over your mouth with Nicole and Henry in the next room. You don’t care who gets hurt anymore or what collateral damage it will cause. Not at the expense of your own pleasure. Or his. You need each other! And you deserve this.

The counter in the motel lobby is shiny and you watch the pattern of smudges appear and disappear as Charlie drums his fingers impatiently against the surface. The desk clerk gives you a knowing look as she runs your credit card. The same look the taxi driver gave you when Charlie yanked you into the backseat and demanded, “Just whatever’s closest.” You’re not fooling anybody tonight.

Charlie paces the floor of the small room; he shuffles the brochures in the rack by the door. Your purple pashmina has somehow ended up around his neck. The clerk must either think he’s on drugs or he’s out gallivanting with “The Other Woman”. She’s partially right. And if you weren’t so sickeningly in love with him, you’d have to admit how ridiculous he looks.  

Maybe your smile is more of a smirk as the clerk slides the key card across the counter and Charlie is already pulling on your hand. Maybe they both notice you hesitate as you sign the receipt. No, you’re not committing credit card fraud. Just seized by the sudden urge to write “(Y/N) Barber” on the slip of paper.  

You get a glimpse of the room as you flick on the light and toss your purse onto the bed.  It’s small, but clean at least, if not fancy. Nondescript, “artsy” prints decorate the walls and the bed is covered with an itchy looking floral comforter. Not sleazy, but standard.

The door isn’t even locked yet, when Charlie pushes you up against it and presses hard into you. “I love this pussy,” he moans as he pushes your leg up and slides his hand down into your panties. Poor guy, he’s been trying to get into there all night. And you both sigh with relief as he finally slides his fingers as far as they’ll go into you. “What about this?” you tease, running your left ring finger over his lips. All the earlier talk of rings and weddings has you feeling bold and much more bratty than normal. “Do you love this too?”

“Fuck yeah, that too,” Charlie pants enthusiastically as his fingers pump in and out of you. He kisses the tip of your finger then sucks it gently into his mouth, before moving his lips onto your neck. “I’ll marry you the second this is over; I swear to God I will!” he babbles into your skin. “Fuck, I’ll even knock you up if you want.” You moan loudly and grind down onto his fingers. God, that sounds so.... wait no!  No, it doesn’t! What are you doing? You have a career and a house plant and a soon to be divorced boyfriend that all need attention. There’s no way in hell that some poor unsuspecting baby is getting thrown into that mix.

And you say the first words that pop into your head when your head is completely muddled. “I’ll already have a kid,” you sigh as Charlie’s fingers rub over your g-spot. “I’ll have Henry. He’ll be yours and mine then.” You’re well aware, of course, that lots of women have their daddy kinks, Freudian Electra Complexes or a single mother childhood with no father figures. Whatever the cause is, more power to those women.  

It had never occurred to you though, that men would have their own version, their own fatherhood fetish that may be more than just evolutionary. But you seem to have hit some kind of hot button in Charlie. And if you didn’t know any better, you would swear he was actually coming himself. He groans loudly into your hair. Curls his fingers into you and yanks your pelvis toward him.

            As impractical and hormonal as the fantasy is, it’s still a difficult picture to get out of your head. Charlie getting you pregnant while still not totally divorced. You imagine yourself with just the slightest hint of a baby bump, maybe picking up or dropping off Henry. Watching Nicole watch you while Charlie’s hand hovers protectively over your stomach. She knows. She can do the math.

It’s so vindictive and disgusting and it only takes a few more thrusts of his fingers, a bit more pressure on your g-spot before you’re coming hard around him, your pussy sucking his fingers deeper into you. As your orgasm peaks, your curled toes barely reaching the floor, you think of dear Nicole and your “He already has a mother” moment from that morning.  And he’s about to have two mothers soon, bitch and you know exactly where you fit in this equation.    

“I love that you do that,” Charlie says after you’ve finished.  He licks your cum from his fingers, taking the time to suck each one clean. “Without a doubt, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you mutter sleepily and look up at him from where you’d collapsed on the bed. And it’s absolutely true. Even without getting off himself, he’s still glowing. It always amazes you how much he seems to genuinely love making you feel good. And very seldom asks for anything in return.

“Sorry about the mess, though,” you add as he takes off his jacket and tosses it on the bed next to you. Charlie pauses rolling his sleeves up and shrugs as you stare at his wet shirt cuff in dismay. “I don’t plan on keeping it on for that much longer anyway.” He grabs the bucket from off the desk. “And honestly? I kind of like the idea of keeping your cum on me. At least for now. KitKat, right?” You nod. It didn’t take him long to figure out what your favorite after-sex indulgence is. “Chocolate for my lady.” Charlie briefly squeezes one of your feet from where they hang off the edge of the bed and goes off in search of ice and junk food.  

Your panties are almost a lost cause, soaked with your cum and the elastic stretched out from Charlie’s enormous hand. But the trip back home in the morning will be awkward enough without attempting to go commando. You fill one of the sinks with warm water and throw the offending garment in, figuring you’ll let them soak and hang them in the shower later to dry.

Leaving the bathroom door open, you turn the hot water up, peel off your sweaty dress and step into the shower. You don’t make much progress with the scratchy washcloth and tiny bar of soap, but it feels good to at least rinse off some of the various bodily fluids.

You’re attempting to scrub whatever makeup you hadn’t already cried off, when you hear Charlie come into the room. “Hi,” you greet him, tugging the curtain back. He’s left his own clothes in the bedroom, standing there in just his boxers, as they make a noble effort to contain his already-swollen cock, even with the wet spot of precum that spreads across the fabric. “Your Kitkat is on your pillow,” he says in a low voice. You love how quickly you established who has which side of the bed and how automatic it became.

“You want to come in?” you ask, holding out the scratchy washcloth invitingly.  But Charlie shakes his head, looking dazed as he takes in your wet hair, watches the soapy bubbles as they slide down your tits and how the cold air from the room makes your nipples hard. He only has to reach for you and his hand is on the back of your head and you stand up on your toes and press your wet lips into his.

You love the feel of his muscles twitching as you run your soggy hand down his stomach, dripping water onto him and onto the floor as you reach down into his shorts and wrap your fingers around him. God, he’s so big! You wonder almost every time, when you first see or feel his hard cock, how it’s going to fit anywhere and not tear you in half. But it always does. Fitting and filling and stretching so nicely. It’s always perfect.

Charlie doesn’t fuck you in the shower. Not for lack of trying though. But every position is too awkward, you’re too far away from each other or you’re getting water up your nose. Finally, he just lifts you out, wet hair and all and leaves the shower running. Charlie leans you over the double vanity and you push back, grinding against him as he slides into your dripping (more so than usual) pussy. The mirror is fogged up and you realize you don’t even have a toothbrush and you can see your panties are still in the sink, floating like a black lacy jellyfish.

He bends his knees so he can thrust up even deeper into you and you can feel the head of his cock push into your cervix on every thrust. “Oh God!” you pant as Charlie reaches around your waist and pulls you even tighter against him. “Oh please.” The deep penetration at this angle is too, too good and you lean your head against your arm on the counter, closing your eyes and focusing on not screaming and waking other guests through the paper-thin walls.

“Hey.” Charlie runs his hand up your back and you lift your head to look at his blurry reflection behind you. He curls his body over yours and presses a kiss into your shoulder. “I love you.”

Later, you ride him lazily in the bed. You’re both exhausted and you’ve already got a wine-headache, but you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other. It’s almost like that first night. You watch the flickery blue from the TV moving across Charlie’s face and you marvel again at how freaking gorgeous he is! With his mouth partway open and his eyes following the motion of your breasts.

“Wait, hold on,” Charlie suddenly directs you and gently taps your leg. “Move for a minute?” You climb off, mildly curious, but assuming that he’s just going to turn you around so you can both watch The Andy Griffith Show.  “No, move up,” he coaxes, lightly pressing into the back of your thigh with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. You shuffle up the bed toward him and are surprised when he lifts your knee over his shoulder and guides your position over his face. But you hesitate, almost leaning away from him.

“You know, the last time I did this, the other party was not very pleased with the uumm… results.” You remember how your then-boyfriend had spluttered and frantically wiped his face after you’d unexpectedly come all over him. And even if it was only joking, him calling you Tsunami (Y/N) afterward still stung. “I almost died that night!” he would tease.

“Apparently, porn lies,” you whisper, dramatically. “Did you know that? It turns out, not everyone wants a squirter. Even if they say they do.” Charlie sighs and you feel his chest rise and fall underneath you. Despite your hesitation, this position, spread open and towering over him, is actually really turning you on. You’re certain he can feel the heat from your pussy, can smell your arousal and you bite your lip as your stare down at him. He’s not easy to resist like this. He’s really not all that easy to resist anyway. And he’s making you so, so wet already.

“Any guy who doesn’t want you all the time is a fucking idiot,” Charlie explains matter-of-factly. He runs his hands up your thighs and lightly squeezes your ass. “You are so perfect and everything you do is sexy as hell.” He turns his head, cranes his neck so he can lick at the drop of fluid running down your thigh. “I’ll set my alarm early every morning if it means I can drink your cum before breakfast.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlie,” you whisper, your heart pounding. Mild-mannered father by day and creative genius by night were both common knowledge, but it was a surprise to learn that he could be downright vulgar in bed! And you can already feel yourself sinking, knees spreading as you lower yourself onto him. In the dim light, you watch the features that you love so much, the full lips and pointy nose, disappear underneath you.        

“It’s okay, Baby. I’ve got you.” you hear Charlie whisper, before he raises his head and seals his mouth against you. Oh, but you love him! The knowledge that you always have loved him doesn’t hit you like a train, sending pieces flying everywhere. It rises like a fresnel lantern on a darkened stage, gradually coming up on a scene so by the time it’s fully lit, you can’t picture it ever having not been there.

During your reasonably short time together, you had discovered and fully embraced Charlie’s propensity for eating your pussy and you’d long become accustomed to his preferred methods and positions. Spread open, pink and wet and waiting. On the bed after its been made or kneeling in front of you, making it impossible to stay focused on Stanley Kubrick Movie Night. Maybe it’s the different position this time, how gravity plays its own role. But he doesn’t even bother with the preliminary kissing and licking, instead pulling you right down onto his tongue.

“Oh my God!” you gasp as he pushes into you as deep as he can go. Which is to say, pretty deep. Holy shit, is there anything about this guy that isn’t long and strong and down to get the friction on? As he wraps his arms around your thighs, you brace your hands on the headboard. Of course, in an establishment like this, the headboard is just a board bolted to the wall. A fucking wallboard. Although, if Charlie keeps up what he’s doing with his entire tongue in your pussy, you may just end up ripping the whole thing out.

For the moment though, you can only sit frozen atop him, frozen, as you adjust to the sensation. Your cunt squeezes tight around his tongue. And you’re certain that Charlie must be able to feel your pulse through your walls as he begins moving his tongue in rhythm to your throbbing.  

He runs his (gigantic!) hands over your waist and hips, soothing your tense muscles as his lips begin working your lips, opening you up further. Just like anything else between you, it’s a reflex, it’s instinctual and it seems to happen on its own. The most delicate and subtle motion of your hips begins almost entirely of your body’s own accord. By the time you intentionally and experimentally roll against him, Charlie hums up into you. In satisfaction. And encouragement.

It feels like only a matter of seconds before whatever trepidation you were feeling melts away entirely and you’re riding his tongue with fervor, fucking yourself on it the same way you’ve ridden his cock so many times. And when you start to lose your breath, you relax, grinding your clit into him as he reaches behind you, massages your ass and pulls your cheeks apart.    

Your orgasm is approaching quickly. You can feel it as it flows through your veins, collecting heat in your cunt. And Charlie must be able to feel how your walls tighten around his tongue because, damn him, he seems to double his efforts, somehow snaking his tongue even farther into you, pressing the tip into your g-spot and lapping at your walls.  

You scramble for the headboard, try to brace yourself, balance yourself, but it’s too slippery under your sweating palms and your nails scratch uselessly against the wood. Below you and between your spread legs, Charlie’s dark hair spreads across the pillow case and his eyes are closed like he’s in the middle of meditating. He’s there and he’s solid and you gently sink your fingers into his hair. His eyes open at your touch and you feel him smile, feel the corners of his lips turn up as he increases the pressure and suction against you. And your breath catches and your fingers clench in his hair, yanking hard on those lovely soft strands as you shove his face into your cunt. You don’t care, you don’t care, it’s Charlie and you’re going to marry him and you’re going to come so fucking hard on his tongue, down his throat and…. How much of that did you actually say out loud?      

Charlie angles his head up, so his nose brushes your clit and you’re certain that one of you is going to pass away. Either Charlie from asphyxiation or you from the sheer force of the orgasm that’s about to hit you, that’s making your heart pound and your thighs shake. And that’s it. The building pressure and heat release and fuck! You’re coming. You feel yourself squeezing and contracting, exploding! And you look down expecting to see another mess, another gasping, spluttering boyfriend.  And nothing. Below you, Charlie’s eyes are closed again and his brow knit in a look of dreamy concentration as he positively sucks your cum down. Why does he do that? It’s so fucking gorgeous when he does that?!      

Your walls are still fluttering as you lift your hips and allow him to slip out from under you. And you feel the corners of your stupid eyes prick with tears. Even as Charlie is gently guiding you to lie back down beside him, you press your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Even Mariah Carey has never felt emotions like these!

He doesn’t miss the sniffle from you. Fucking bastard should be all too familiar with the sound by now “Okay?” he whispers. “Yeah!” you breathe, watching the popcorn ceiling as the TV’s muted light dances across it, before you roll over onto your side to face him. “That was really intense, though. And it’s been a long day and just… ugh! So many feels, you know?” Charlie wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and nose, rubbing off the majority of your slick, but doesn’t seem worried about jumping up to wash his face and he really does love leaving your cum on him, doesn’t he?  

“Have I ever told you how much I love your habit of randomly talking like a 14-year-old?” Charlie asks as he sits up against the headboard/wallboard. “God, really?!” you ask. Sometimes, you’re aware of students’ language and mannerisms rubbing off on you. And sometimes you can turn it off. But not always. “I drive my mom crazy,” you continue. “She thinks I sound completely uneducated.”  Even in the dim light, you see Charlie roll his eyes almost affectionately. “Your mom,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“It’s an occupational hazard, I swear.” And it’s true. Most days after getting home from work, your vocabulary is usually a combination of Othello and Urban Dictionary.  “And, in my defense,” you continue. “Michelangelo’s La Pieta is hella fuckin sick.” Charlie’s bare chest rises and falls as he huffs out a laugh. Damn, he’s got a nice chest. “I really can’t argue that point,” he says. “It’s absolutely true.” A nice chest and impeccable taste in art.  

He yawns and stretches as he rolls over to grab the remote for the nightstand. “We should probably try to sleep at some point, shouldn’t we?” On the TV, Andy Griffith has been replaced by an infomercial where the host is entirely too excited about a vacuum cleaner. It’s kind of uncomfortable to watch and you’re grateful when Charlie turns off the TV, leaving the room lit only by the orange-y artificial light from outside.  

Settling himself on his side of the bed, Charlie automatically holds his arms out and you automatically curl up against him with your head on his chest. “No diamonds,” he says softly as he pulls the blankets up over you. “No birthstone. Father-Daughter dance.” Several minutes pass in silence, but his arms still tighten around you when you whisper back into his skin, “And the perfect, most outlandish wedding dress.”