#and it's not an in your face cap america shirt

[neverwholelahey]

come send me memes while i struggle with drafts and struggle with my focus

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty five ⭐︎ Who could stay? You could stay

Warnings: none really, just a lot of fluff, a bittersweet ending, lots of love and tooth rotting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve take another step and move into a whole new chapter.

Word count: 8.5k

Author's note: this is it, guys. this is the last chapter, all we got is an epilogue coming and thats it, the story is nearly over! It's been six months of dwoht!!!! six months of plotting and writing with @hellfire--cult ily roe, thank you for doing this with me ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Moving boxes litter your entire house, some are in the hallway, the kitchen and the living room, some already emptied, some of them are still unopened, sealed with duct tape. Most boxes are in your bedroom though, yours and Steve’s bedroom. 

David Bowie’s voice sounds through the speakers, the wind that blows through your open window touches your bare skin, you are only wearing a t-shirt of his, your hair is pulled up in a scrunchie that he picked out for you when you went shopping together, your knees dig into the soft carpet beneath you as you sort through his movie and comic collection, taking them out of the box and stacking them up on your shelf where you had already made space for him. You were honestly a little surprised to find the Captain America comic books in one of his drawers back at his house, he never mentioned them nor did you see him ever holding a comic book in his hand but apparently he only liked them when he was a kid and he grew out of his ‘nerdy’ phase when he turned thirteen. Sure. He told you not to pack them, he told you he doesn’t need them anymore but you saw the look in his eyes, the comfort that teenage boy got from getting lost in a world of superheroes, so you packed them into the box and now they’re finding home on your shelf, ready for him to reach whenever. 

You don’t feel his eyes on you at this moment, you are too focused on the memories he packed, on the pictures you find next, of the teens, of Robin and Eddie, of his parents and some of his from his childhood, pictures of you. 

Steve had never felt more at peace than he does now, standing in your now shared bedroom, he is sorting through his clothes, placing them on the hangers and into your closet, he is sneaking glances at you, wearing the biggest smile on his face. Your hair is falling out of the scrunchie, his shirt is riding up on your thighs, a soft look resides in your eyes and on your lips as you flip through the pictures he took to his new home. His heart skips strongly as he looks at you, he’s got everything he ever wanted, absolutely everything. 

When you asked him to move in with you after only two weeks of dating, he didn’t waste a second to say ‘yes’, perhaps he even sounded a little too desperate when that word left his lips but he couldn’t help it. He hated to be away from you, even more so than before, when you weren’t dating yet. He didn’t want to spend a second without you, and neither did you. You clung to each other from the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend, not a single night was spent without the other. You ate breakfast, lunch and dinner together, you showered together and cuddled on the couch in front of the tv, every night. You never went to sleep without one another, so ‘why wait?’, you said before you asked him. 

He had no trouble leaving his house, it was only ever home because of you and he felt more at home here than he ever did back there. He felt no sadness to leave it behind, only excitement and happiness to enter this chapter of your life together. 

Steve looks at the polaroid camera next to your bed, feeling the urge to keep this moment not only in his memory but also in a picture. He places his yellow sweater into your closet before he makes his way over to the nightstand, he picks up the camera and turns it on, removing the cap leans, he tip toes closer to you and kneels down, squinting one eye shut as he aims the camera at you and he captures a perfect moment. 

A look of surprise flashes in your features, your brows are pulled up, your lips parted as you stare at the notes in your hand, the notes that fell out of the little notebook that you can only assume to be from his days at school. You didn’t mean to open it or even look inside, it could be a diary, after all. But the notes fell out when you took it out of the box. 

You blink, once, twice. You feel as though your eyes are betraying you as you read the words on the white paper. The ink is a little faded, but you can still see every letter clearly. 

Your heart is skipping in your chest. 

What are you looking at perv?

Your handwriting. 

Your note. 

You remember that day, you remember how you caught him staring at you, throughout the whole class, the hopeless girl in you was blushing but… the teenage you was annoyed, thinking that he was just messing with you, thinking that he somehow found out about your crush on him and decided to tease you, to play with you. 

You put the note down on your lap and read the other. 

Very funny, are you running out of girls to flirt with, King Steve?

You don’t even hear the clicking sound of the camera, you pay no mind to the flash going off either. You are too surprised by what you see as you keep flipping through the notes that he kept, the ones he kept for years, back when he didn’t even like you.

You flinch in surprise when you feel a pair of arms around your waist but quickly relax and melt into him, into his embrace, into his warm touch. Your lips curl into a smile when his own press soft kisses to your neck, whispering into your skin. 

“King Steve was an idiot, wasn’t he? He couldn’t throw away these notes but still kept acting like a dick to you.” 

The thought of him struggling to throw your notes into the trash, makes your chest swell with warmth. 

You tilt your head back to face your boyfriend, you place the notes down and wrap your hand around his wrist. 

“Did… you keep them on purpose?” You ask as for a moment, you thought that he might’ve forgotten them. 

“I did, my heart just didn’t allow me to throw them away.”  

You chuckle at his words and shake your head, “yeah, sure.” 

“It’s true, honey!” He exclaims, squeezing your waist. 

You flinch in surprise, a giggle falling from your lips as you hold his wrists tighter. 

“It always knew who it belonged to.” He whispers with no humor in his voice, just genuine honesty, because it’s true, his heart knew, it always knew. 

“You’re such a sap, Steve Harrington,” you say, though with nothing but a wide smile on your lips. 

“Yeah, I’m your sap,” he grins, clinging tighter to your waist, he nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing you in and kissing you there, feeling his heart swelling in excitement, in love as he thinks of his future now, a future he thought he would only ever dream of, a future you both want, with one another. He will get to wake beside you every morning, with you in his arms, greeted by your soft touch, by your sweet kisses, he will get to sit at the breakfast table with you, write the grocery list with you while you enjoy your morning coffee, he will kiss you before leaving for work and he will come home, not to an empty house like he used to, no, he will come to you, his home. 

You cup the side of his face when you tilt your head back, chasing his lips with your own, you both giggle when your noses bump together before your mouths touch and you both get lost in the sweet kiss you can never get enough of. 

His feelings grow stronger and stronger, each passing second, they get bigger and brighter, evolving into something he never thought was even possible to feel, something bigger than love, something he can’t even describe with words, even if he tried to but he feels like the happiest man in the world – in the fucking universe. 

He feels bonded to you, he belongs to you and you to him. 

He pulls away from the kiss with an even bigger smile on his face than before, he caresses your cheek and looks into your eyes, “I think… no, I know,” he corrects himself, pressing his lips to yours once more, “you’re my soulmate.”

A soft giggle escapes you, you tilt your head to the side and move closer to him. Staring at the loving look in his hazel eyes, the relaxed and happy smile he now constantly wears. 

“You really think–”

He cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, “I know so,” he whispers against your mouth, “my heart knows, I know.”

“Soulmates,” you whisper and wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck, crawling into his lap, he happily pulls you tighter against him. “I love the sound of that.”

“I chose you.”

“Oh, did you?” You giggle. “We weren’t made for each other? You just chose me? That’s how it works?” 

Steve squeezes your waist, moving one hand up your body, he cradles your face again and tucks your hair behind your ear, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “oh honey, I think we were made with each other, but I still chose you,” he whispers in confidence, though struggling to word his feelings, his beliefs correctly. 

You gaze into his eyes, trying to make sense of his words, though your mind can follow, your heart understands. 

“Well, I chose you back, Steve Harrington.”

He smiles and he can’t hold back from kissing you again, kissing the love of his life, kissing you until he can no longer breathe. 

Neither of you heard the car pull up into your driveway, or the slam of the front door, or the loud ‘hello’. You are too caught up in each other, in the kiss, in the perfect touches. 

“Guys?” Eddie’s voice sounds through the house, “I brought food!”

You are the first to pull away, giggling when he frowns at you and chases after your lips, pecking them once more. 

“He brought food.”

“Mhmm, I’d rather eat something else right now,” he murmurs and trails his kisses down to your neck, holding your waist tighter when you try to move away. 

Your stomach flips, skin growing warm beneath his hands and his lips, “l-later, Stevie…” You stutter, trying to control your breathing when his lips find that one spot.

“Guys, stop fucking or I swear to Ozzy, I’m gonna come upstairs and–”

“Alright, alright!” Your boyfriend yells out to him, chuckling, “we’re coming!” 

“We so are coming,” you giggle into his ear, kissing his cheek before you pull away from him, amused by the groan that falls from his lips, “later.” 

His hands fall from your waist as you stand up and walk over to your dresser to grab a pair of shorts to wear, not wanting to flash your best friend by accident. 

Steve gets up as well, though his eyes never leave your form, they’re glued on your butt. He licks his lips as he watches you bend over, those silky pink panties look so perfect to rip off… later. He nearly groans again when you pull your black shorts over them. Coming up from behind, he grabs a handful of your ass, earning a squeal from you that only makes him grin when you look back at him. 

“You’re obsessed,” you snort and swat his hand away weakly. 

“With you? Yes, I am,” he smiles proudly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and starts leading you out into the hallway. 

“No, with my ass.”

At that, he grabs your ass again, giving it a squeeze, “that too.”

Your giggle echoes through the hallway, and your best friend instantly looks up at the sound of that, standing in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by Steve’s boxes, with two bags of takeout and a confused frown on his face. 

“Hey guys.” 

“Hi Eds,” you smile at your best friend.

Steve greets him happily, a big smile resting on his face, Eddie isn’t sure if he has ever seen him like this but ever since you two started dating, Steve hasn’t stopped smiling and you are just the same, you’re basically skipping down the stairs, your eyes are shining, your skin is glowing, you are the happiest you have ever been. 

You and Steve found each other. 

Two pieces that always belonged together. 

Two pieces that became one. 

Eddie’s eyes move back to all the boxes in your hallway, the handwriting on them is unmistakably Steve’s. 

“So uh, what’s all this?” He asks, he has an idea of what this is but a part of him believes that he is just mistaking something. 

You and Steve glance at each other, eyes lighting up even more, lips curling into even bigger smiles. You bite your lip and turn back to Eddie. 

“Steve is moving in!” 

Eddie’s brown eyes grow wide, his lips part in surprise and he nearly drops both bags of takeout, he stares between you two with an expression on his face that nearly makes you both laugh. 

He looks around again, catching a glimpse of Steve’s favorite armchair now standing in your living room, along with an opened box, a blanket falling out of it, the one that always decorated the big couch in the living room back at his house. 

Clearly, you aren’t joking. 

He squints his eyes as he looks back at the two of you, watching the way your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, his arms slowly moving around your waist. 

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little too quickly?” He asks, looking between you both bewildered. 

You and Steve turn to face one another, you both smile, gazing into each other’s eyes for a moment. His flash with… mischief as his hand begins to travel south, settling on your lower belly. 

You both turn back to the metalhead. 

“Nah,” you speak in unison. 

Eddie blinks, eyes flicking back and forth between you and Steve. 

“We uh… sort of cooked a little nugget… a little too soon,” Steve explains, biting back his laugh. 

You press your lips together as you stare at your best friend. You place your hand over Steve’s and lean your head back on his shoulder, melting into him when he kisses your temple. 

If Eddie’s eyes could grow any wider, they would. He blinks a few times before he closes his eyes completely, shaking his head, his curls bounce. He furrows his brows so strongly, he looks as though he is in pain. He opens his eyes again and takes a deep breath, he looks at your serious face, at his and then at Steve’s large hand covering your stomach protectively. 

Little nugget. 

You and Steve wait patiently for his reaction. 

“Jesus Christ! You horny fuckers don’t know how to use protection!?” He exclaims, raising his arms up, the paper bags in his hands rustle. You’re surprised they didn’t rip yet with the way he is flailing his arms around. “A little nugget!? What the– I need to sit down.” 

Steve snorts quietly, amused by the shock on his face. 

“Oh, this is crazy,” Eddie sighs, like a shocked father whose teenage girl just revealed her accidental pregnancy. 

You can no longer hold it in, bursting into laughter, you infect Steve with it too. His arms tighten around you as you laugh at your best friend. 

Eddie’s eyebrows rise up now, his jaw dropping slightly as he finally catches on. 

“You really fell for it,” you giggle, blinking back the tears of amusement. 

“Can you blame me!?” Eddie nearly yells, pointing at you and Steve, “you’re at it like some goddamn rabbits! Besides, we all know about his breeding kink!”

Your giggles might not ever die down today, Steve’s red cheeks make this moment even better. 

“Dude,” he groans. 

“It’s true,” Eddie snorts as he relaxes again, coming down from the shock. 

“It is,” you nod. 

Eddie opens his mouth again, though his smile quickly falls and he scrunches his nose when he looks between you both, a smirk now pulling at Steve’s lips. 

“Oh… okay, yeah uh, let’s change the topic,” he shakes his head again, holding up his hand as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Alright, well, there are no nuggets on the way yet, so you can relax.” 

Eddie nods, chuckling to himself. 

“Yeah, so uh… are you guys hungry?” 

You look down at the bags in his hand, only now registering the smell of fries, your mouth waters and your stomach feels empty, all of a sudden. 

You nod and open your mouth, but before you or Steve can respond, a knock on the door interrupts you. 

Eddie turns to the door before he looks back at you, brown eyes flicking back and forth between yours and your boyfriends, “are you expecting anyone?” He asks, placing the takeout bags on the dresser. 

You and Steve both shrug. 

“Not really,” you mumble. 

Eddie steps forward and opens the door, stepping aside to let you see who is standing on the other side. 

“Oh, hello ladies,” Eddie grins, waving at the little girl in Max’s arms. 

Your eyes light up in excitement, a warm smile graces your face when you see your niece who is babbling away, waving with her little arms and tugging at Max’s hair who doesn’t even flinch. 

“Oh my god,” you nearly squeal, leaving your boyfriend’s embrace, you make your way over to the two girls, “hi! Come here, princess!” You grin, lifting your arms up, giggling when Francine squeaks at the sight of you, making grabby hands before you take her from Max’s arms. 

“I missed you so much, Francis!” You whisper and tickle her side, kissing her chubby cheek. 

Steve’s heart flutters, a sweet smile tugs at his lips, his cheeks turn rosy and he feels warm all over. Every time he sees you holding your niece, he can’t help but picture you with your own little family. He takes a few steps forward, wrapping his arm around you and taking Francine’s tiny hand, “hi angel,” he whispers, cooing at her when she gets jumpy in your arms, excited to see him. He tickles her belly, making the little girl giggle, “you got so much bigger since the last time!” 

Max furrows her brows, not knowing about the day you and Steve babysat Francine together. She chuckles when your niece clasps her tiny hand around his finger. 

“Hi guys!” Your sister finally catches up, walking into the house, car keys in one hand and pizza boxes in the other. She stops next to Max, and nudges her shoulder against hers, “I ran into Max downtown when I stopped by to get some pizza!” She explains, placing the boxes on the dresser next to Eddie’s takeout bags, “oh, you got takeout already.”

“Yep, I got some fries and burgers for Blondie and boyfriend over here,” Eddie grins teasingly, knowing that you haven’t introduced him as your boyfriend to her in person yet, you didn’t get the chance to until now, she only just came back from her vacation. 

Max snickers at your flustered expression, her and Eddie share a look, both amused by the way you’re trying to hide your face in Steve’s chest which only prompts Francine to grab a handful of his shirt, making him chuckle. 

“Oh right,” your sister grins, looking between you two as she makes her way over to you, already opening her arms so she can greet you properly. 

Steve lets go of you but Francine doesn’t let him step away, she still holds his finger tightly, making both him and Eddie chuckle when she stares up at him with her big eyes, babbling away. 

“She’s just like her auntie,” Eddie comments, laughing when you shoot him a playful glare over your sister’s shoulder. 

“How are you, Daisy?” Your sister smiles, squeezing you tightly before pulling away. 

You see the teasing look in her eyes when she glances at your boyfriend behind you.

“I’m good,” you reply, unable to do it without a smile, something that makes the look in your sister’s eyes soften because it’s the first genuine ‘I’m good’ that she heard from you in years. You always lied to her about your true feelings, never letting her in, never giving her the words she wanted to hear from you, you kept it all to yourself, not wanting to ‘share’ your misery with the people around you. 

She never got through to you, no matter how hard she tried, she never succeeded, but the people in this room did – Eddie and Max did, they gave you back that smile that she missed seeing on your face, they broke you out of that little shell, you were so comfortable in for the past years. 

And Steve, he… gave you everything. 

You are more than just good. You are happy, happy in a way you have never been before. The walls around you have crumbled completely, the look in your eyes is one of love and contentment, your skin is glowing, your eyes are shining, you are just… happy. 

“So… are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend properly this time?” She teases, only having heard from you about it all on the phone. 

Your cheeks grow hot, you know how long she had been waiting for this moment, always teasing and hoping for you to finally fall in love – as though you weren’t hopeless for years already, she was pointing out cute guys for you to date, not knowing that there was only one you had your eyes set on. 

“Twinkie–”

“You know that’s not my name,” your sister interrupts you with a glare, making you and Max chuckle. 

“Fine,” you snort, saying her real name this time as Steve wraps his arm back around you again, pulling you into him, he grins excitedly as he stretches his hand out to your sister, like it’s their first time meeting, like she didn’t walk in on you and him cuddling on your couch with baby Francine in his arms. She takes his hand with an amused smile. 

Max and Eddie share a look, amused by this little introduction. 

“That’s my boyfriend Steve,” you say with a giggle, feeling your heart burst with happiness. Francine squeals in your arms, like she’s happy to hear those words, as well, making everyone laugh in the room. 

“Steve, that’s my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Twinkie,” Steve chuckles, earning a glare from her. 

You lean your head on his shoulder, adjusting your baby niece on your hip. Steve lets go of your sister’s hand and wraps his arm back around you again, kissing your temple. 

“I meant to say that I will kick your ass if you hurt her but I think that Max might beat me to it.”

“You’re right,” Max nods at your sister, crossing her arms over her chest, she gives Steve a pointed look, “he’ll wake up in Billy’s car again if he ever does anything stupid.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, he shakes his head at her, holding his hand up slightly with Francine’s hand still wrapped around his finger, “no way, Mayfield.” 

Eddie smirks as he throws his arm around Max’s shoulder, grinning at the redhead, “don’t worry, Steve. She’s getting driving lessons from me now.”

You snort. 

“That’s even worse, Munson,” Steve scoffs, pointing at Max, “a maniac getting driving lessons from another maniac? Yeah, no goddamn way, you’re getting driving lessons from me now.” 

Eddie looks a little offended by his words, he places his hand over his heart, “I’m a good driver.”

“Yeah, besides I’m good enough to drive by myself, I don’t need an instructor, I watched and learned from Billy.”

“Great, another maniac,” Steve sighs.

Your sister laughs at the interaction, she looks around, finally noticing all the boxes though she doesn’t say anything, even as her brows furrow and a curious, confused look flashes in her eyes. It doesn’t take her long to figure out what this means, it’s obvious, even more so with the clear excitement in both yours and his eyes. 

You look away from your friends and your boyfriend, drowning out the conversation as you look back at your sister, noticing the look in her eyes and the way she stares at the boxes. You grow a little nervous, not knowing what she thinks of this, what she will say about this but when she meets your eyes, she only shakes her head at you with a smile on her face. 

She takes a step closer, placing her hand on her daughter's back as she leans in to whisper in your ear, “when you know you know, and you always knew.” 

You nod with a smile on your face, feeling the heat of his body against yours, feeling his loving touch on your shoulder, feeling safe in his embrace. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

You knew it from the very start.

You were ruined for anyone else, before he even touched you. 

And when his lips touched yours for the first time, you knew you were done for, you thought it was over for you, that you would never find happiness after that but now you’re here, he is here, he is all yours and sometimes you are still in disbelief about it all, no matter how many weeks have passed, you still can’t wrap your head around it all, about how lucky you are, just like him. 

But there is someone else who is still in disbelief, Dustin. He was so convinced that you were dating Eddie, he just couldn’t understand how it all went by him that you and Steve had been a thing for months already, that you weren’t Eddie’s girl but Steve’s girl. 

He is even more in shock now as he is in your living room, taking in the sight of Steve’s belongings in your house, all the moving boxes. 

You invited all your friends over after the surprise visits you had already gotten, the amount of food Eddie and your sister brought was way too much anyways, so Steve made a call and invited all your friends over, well, most of them. 

Argyle went back to California. Jonathan who declined both college acceptance offers to Lenora Hills Community college and Emerson, made his dream come true of going to NYU, after a long and honest talk with Nancy, they decided to follow their own dreams, but still sticking together, even with a distance between them. Boston and New York aren’t that far apart, after all. 

So, after a little goodbye party at the hideout where Eddie and his band played, they all left Hawkins after a wild night filled with booze and weed – from both Argyle and Eddie.

Robin and Vickie went on a trip to Chicago before the latter leaves for College as well, but Robin knew all about Steve’s moving plans, he called her right away to tell her the news. 

Everyone is entering a new chapter and this time, it’s all, only positive changes, only ones you all look forward to, ones that you don’t step into nervously and with uncertainty, no, for once, you are all at peace, you are all happy, all excited for the future. 

Your living room is filled with friends, with family, it’s filled with laughter and smiles, something that has been lacking in the past few years. A house that was once just filled with sadness and a grayish glow, is now filled with life, the golden sun that shines inside, reflect the emotions in you now. 

Steve who is sitting on the couch, is holding your niece in his arms, she is sitting on his lap, happily. Babbling and giggling more than she did before, she is waving her arms around, giggling louder every time he makes a funny face or tickles her belly. 

Eddie sits beside him, cooing at the little girl every time a giggle escapes her, “oh, a fairy was born,” he tells her after each giggle from her. 

Steve gives her tiny hand a kiss when she places it on his cheek, which only prompts her to laugh again. 

“Oh, and another,” Eddie chuckles and taps her nose. 

A loving smile stays on your lips as you watch your boyfriend with your niece, adoring the mesmerized look on his face. He chuckles every time she turns to Eddie and looks at him with her big eyes before she turns her attention back to him, squealing and waving her arms around. 

Your sister sits beside you, looking stunned, “huh, he is a natural.” 

“Mhmm, he is,” you nod. 

Lucas and Dustin sit on the floor, bickering about something as always, while Max rolls her eyes at them every few seconds or so, cursing at them when Dustin throws one of the pillows at his friend. 

“Hey!” Steve shakes his head at him, giving them a disapproving look, “stop that! How old are you two? Francine over here is maturer than you two,” he grumbles, gesturing to the little girl in his arms who looks back and forth between Dustin and Lucas with a curious look on her face. 

Eddie chuckles beside him, nodding.

“You really got yourself a dad boyfriend,” your sister whispers into your ear, snickering as she sips on her coke. 

You giggle and nod your head. You love this side of him and you love how he looks with a baby in his arms. 

Steve catches you staring at him, and the scowl he previously looked at the teens with, quickly vanishes, a smile appears on his face and he tilts his head at you, beckoning you to him. 

You put your drink down on the table, pushing aside your empty plate from before, you get up and make your way over to your boyfriend. 

“Can I hold her?” Eddie asks, holding Francine’s tiny hand in his, smiling at the little girl. 

“Oh, now you wanna hold her?” Your sister chuckles, teasing him. “Thought you were scared of babies, Eddie.” 

“Only when they poop.”

“You are such a child, man.” Lucas snorts at him. 

“Hey, you’re not the one who was chased down with a diaper full of poop!” He exclaims, glaring at Max who only giggles in response. 

“You chased him down with a dirty diaper?” Lucas asks his girlfriend, who nods with a smirk on his face. 

He starts laughing and raises his hand at her, high fiving his girlfriend. 

Eddie shakes his head at the two, rolling his eyes before he looks back at Francine, reaching his hands out to her, she looks at him curiously, grasping his thumb, she holds it tightly. 

“Come here, princess,” Eddie whispers as he carefully takes her from Steve’s hands, lifting her into his arms, he cradles the back of her head even though she doesn’t even need the support anymore. “Holy shit, she’s so light.”

“Language,” Steve glares at him as he relaxes back in his seat once Eddie leans back with her in his arms. The metalhead ignores him, too mesmerized by your niece in his arms, who stares up at him, curiously and with big eyes. 

Your boyfriend reaches for your hand, not letting you sit beside him, he pulls you onto his lap instead, wrapping his arms around your waist, he takes you into his embrace, kissing your shoulder once you’re settled on top of him. 

“Hey, keep it pg in here, there’s kids and a baby in this room,” your best friend teases your boyfriend, smirking at him. 

“We’re not kids anymore,” Lucas scoffs. 

“Yeah, bet Max and Lucas meet up at Skull Rock to kiss–”

“Dude!” “Dustin!” 

Lucas and Max yell in unison, glaring at their friend with flustered faces, causing you all to laugh at them. 

“It’s the truth,” Dustin smirks, shrugging – and that is how all the bickering starts again, though this time, Max joins. 

Shaking your head at them, you turn away to watch your niece instead, laying your head on Steve’s shoulder, your heart flutters in your chest when he tightens his hold on you and kisses your temple, rubbing circles into your hip, he whispers the softest I love you into your ear. 

“Oh my god,” your best friend whispers in awe, watching your niece falling asleep in his arms, tiny hand still gripping his finger, face nuzzled into his chest comfortably. Eddie looks around, shushing at the teens. 

You and Steve look at each other in surprise, not even five minutes have passed since Eddie took Francine from Steve’s arms, and she is already fast asleep in his arms. 

“Well now we know who can babysit her,” your sister jokes, also stunned by how fast she passed out in the metalheads arms. 

“Yeah, and our  future kids too,” you say without thinking, completely unaware of the feelings those words cause inside of Steve. 

He blushes a deep red, warmth spreads inside of him and he shifts with you on his lap, gripping you tighter and clearing his throat when your best friend smirks at his reaction. 

That shuts the teens up, their bickering coming to a stop the moment they realize what you just said, they all share a look before they turn to you and Steve. 

While Lucas smirks and wiggles his brows at Steve, Max is giggling at his blushing cheeks but Dustin, he only raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, not in disapproval though.

He raises his hands up, closing his eyes for a moment, “you guys gotta give me a moment, I’m still trying to get used to this,” he wiggles his fingers between you both. 

“What do you mean?” Your sister chuckles, cocking her head to the side. 

Dustin blinks at her, gesturing to you once more, “them being a couple, I mean have you seen them before!? They were constantly at each other’s throats!”

“Yeah, cause Steve was an idiot,” Lucas laughs. 

Steve gives him a pointed look, but doesn’t fight him on that, he calls himself that, all the time, for everything that happened between you in the past. 

“I thought she was with Eddie!” 

Your sister laughs with a confused look on her face, shaking her head, “why, because they’re always together?” 

Steve rolls his eyes at Dustin, holding you a little tighter.

“Yeah! And like I said, they were always fighting!” 

“Mhmm, and suddenly they didn’t, I wonder why,” Lucas smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you both again. 

“He really wanted them together, by the way,” Max tells your sister, pointing her finger at her boyfriend. 

“From day one,” he nods proudly, “and now they’re together, moving in together! I always knew what’s up. I mean, I always knew about Steve’s little crush on her, a guy just knows it.”

Dustin looks at him confused, he frowns and blinks at your boyfriend, staring at him for a long moment, he looks at you and then back at him before his eyes widen and he jumps up, “that is why you gave me the shittiest advice ever! You told me chicks dig it when guys are mean to them!”

“The key with girls is acting like you don’t care,” Lucas and Max mock him, giggling with each other. 

Steve groans and throws his head back when you turn to face him with an amused smile, “wow, that’s some good advice, babe.”

“Well, it clearly worked,” Eddie snorts, glancing at you briefly as he adjusts Francine in his arms. 

Dustin grins at Steve, “oh, that’s why you were so mean to her! Bet you expected her to fall at your feet but instead she was mean to you too! That’s why you didn’t stop there and just kept going because you wanted her attention – oh, now I understand!” He laughs, shaking his head as he stares in disbelief, like he uncovered something groundbreaking. 

“You know what, Henderson?” Steve mumbles, straightening his back, he leans closer to you, pressing his chest against your back, he leans his chin on your shoulder, “you’re right.” He admits after a long pause, despite hating to boost that boy’s ego, he admits it. 

He is right. 

Steve was always infatuated with you, he just never wanted to admit it, not even to himself, not even when he kept those notes that you had found earlier. He ignored what he desired, who his heart desired, because that teenage boy in him, was too proud to admit that he liked someone who didn’t like him back but he also couldn’t fight those feelings, they irritated him, they made him mean. 

So yeah, Dustin was right but so was Lucas. 

And now they continue to tease him about it all, while you sit back and watch in amusement, enjoying the redness that covers your boyfriend's cheeks while he holds you in his arms and plays with your hands, toying with your ring finger the way he always does, he tries to hide the smile on his face but fails to do so when your eyes meet his and he sees the joy in them, the one that has been there since the night he confessed his love for you. 

He loves you so much, he can’t even think of a moment when he didn’t – it’s impossible to think of one. 

You adjust on top of him, turning and twisting your body until you can lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him, not caring about anything around you, about the vulnerability, the softness, the affectionate side of you, you’re displaying so casually – something you would have never done before. 

Steve’s heart could burst at this very moment. 

He knows how much you struggled to show your true feelings and emotions, how you hid from the world, for years. How you never let anyone see the real side of you, how closed up and sheltered you were, how you dug yourself a hole and stayed in there for the longest time, thinking that you were better off in hiding, thinking that you had to stay in the void forever, all alone, all by yourself, with fears and a feeling of deep sorrow, you just couldn’t let go of. 

But through the darkness, through the pain that the upside down had brought you, had dragged you into, you found a family, just like he did. 

Eddie stepped into your life, a best friend you never thought you would have again after you lost both Billy and Chrissy so tragically. You didn’t want to let him in, you feared that the curse upon you that you believed you had, would take him from you too, that it was only a matter of time until the darkness would drag him away from you as well, just like it had dragged away everyone else that you have loved. But he didn’t allow you to push him away, he didn’t let you believe for a second that any of what happened was your fault, he stuck to your side, from the day at skull rock, he stuck to your side in the upside down and after, he stayed, no matter how hard you tried to deny that bond between you, he stayed. 

Max, the stubborn girl that refused to ever leave your side, who never once stepped away from you, who sees you as her big sister, just like Lucas. The two teens had to be forced out of your hospital room after what Jason did to you, they never left without a fight.

And through the darkness, through the worst days, you and Steve have found each other, through monsters and pain, through bloodshed and tears, you finally found your way to each other – neither of you are surrounded by sadness any longer, by emptiness and a longing for love you could only ever find in each other. 

This room that was once filled with silence and sadness, an emptiness, a dark cloud that always hung over your home is now gone. You are no longer alone, you’re surrounded by people who decided that you are worth loving, worth staying for, you both are. 

You have found home in each other, and you found a family. 

That night, when you are back in your bedroom, you sit on your floor next to each other, surrounded by candlelight, two glasses of wine on each side of you, a bag of your favorite candy before you and a bunch of pictures all across your floor, surrounding the corkboard that lies on the carpet. Your TV is on but neither of you pay attention to the movie playing on the screen. The smell of fresh bed sheets lingers in the room, along with the scent of his and your body wash, your hair is still wet from your shower together. 

Your giggles sound through the room as he laughs at the silly picture he took of Dustin earlier, unable to stop as he stares at the face the teen made. 

“We’re definitely putting that picture up,” Steve snickers as he pins it to the corkboard – the corkboard that was his idea, to put up pictures of your favorite memories, of the people that mean the most to you. 

“I think we’ll need a second corkboard,” you chuckle as you look at all the pictures that have taken up the entire space of the board. 

“Yeah,” Steve smiles as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and looks down at the pictures on your lap, he reaches for the one of you and Eddie, that one was taken in his backyard, both yours and his eyes are bloodshot, lazy smiles are on your faces, your hair is wild and all over the place, Eddie is wearing two pigtails, his arm is thrown over your shoulder, a joint sticking between his fingers, Steve remembers that night, the way you all got drunk and high and played hide and seek in Eddie’s backyard, like a group of kids – it wasn’t long after you and Steve made your little arrangement. That night, he pulled you behind one of the high bushes and kissed you breathless while your friends were looking for you. He was the reason for your messy hair and your puffy lips. 

Steve takes the picture with a grin on his face, taking up one of the last spots on the board, he pins it. 

“Really? This one?” You question and tilt your head back to look at him, “why?”

“Cause you look adorable,” he whispers and leans in to peck your lips, “with your hair all messed up from my hands,” he murmurs against your mouth, kissing you once more.

“Making out in the bushes was definitely something,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose into his. 

He cradles your cheeks and nods, smiling as he leans his forehead against yours. You sigh in contentment as his lips brush against yours, his warm touch sends sparks through your body, he is melting into you the way you melt into him. You look into his hazel eyes, into his loving gaze, a breathy, sweet chuckle escapes him before he closes his eyes and kisses you deeply. 

Your lips move slowly against his, you savor every second of each kiss, you both do, even though you know you have the rest of your life to do this with each other. You taste the wine on his lips and the candy, you feel his protective, soft touch, his thumb caressing your cheek as his tongue slips past your lips, clashing against your own. 

His heart flutters in his chest when you whimper into the kiss, when you throw your arms around his neck and press yourself against him, crawling into his lap with his help. 

Steve holds you tightly, his hand travels to the back of your neck, running his fingers through your wet hair, he runs his fingers up and down your spine before he cradles your cheek again. His free hand pats the space around him, touching the carpet as he searches for the polaroid camera, sighing and moaning into the kiss when you press yourself tighter against him and deepen the kiss, running your fingers through his messy hair. 

The flash of the camera doesn’t even make you flinch, it only makes you giggle as you pull away from your boyfriend, your eyes flashing with amusement when he opens his own and meets you with a grin. 

“You’re so sneaky, Stevie,” you whisper as you glance at the polaroid camera in his hand. 

Steve laughs and steals another kiss from you, he puts the camera down after you pick out the picture. 

You look down at the still developing picture, waiting for the reveal. You press your lips together, sighing when he kisses your neck. 

“I’m so happy, baby, I hope you know that,” Steve whispers against your skin, slipping his hand underneath your shirt as he hugs you against his chest. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He murmurs adoringly, the sight of your smile, of the joy in your eyes makes his heart swell so strongly. 

Many months ago, he told you to get yourself a boyfriend and stop getting on his nerves — you don’t know why this moment flashes in your mind now, why this takes you back to that day at Family Video but the memory makes you giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve asks, amused. 

“You told me to get myself a boyfriend… and I did.” 

Steve furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side, he purses his lips as his hazel eyes gaze into yours, they widen and a huff leaves his mouth before he chuckles. 

“Yeah, and I fucking love it, baby. I’m your boyfriend,” he says, proudly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“Well, I love to be your girlfriend, Stevie.” 

His heart will always flutter at these words, at the way you look at him, at the way you touch him, like he’s something perfect. 

“You caught me,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours strongly, “and I caught you.”

You hold onto his neck, running your fingers through his hair, you refuse to look away from him. 

“And I’m never letting you go,” he promises, “you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how hard you’re smiling, and it only gets worse when he leans in to pepper your face in kisses, “my girlfriend.” Kiss. “My beautiful, gorgeous girl.” Kiss. “My future wife.” Kiss. “My stars.” Kiss. “My sun and my moon.” Kiss. “My whole galaxy.” Kiss. 

You can’t stop giggling, your eyes tear up from all the laughter that falls from your lips and when you lean your head back, it only turns out to be a mistake when Steve latches his mouth onto your neck, tickling you with the stubble on his cheeks. 

“Steve!” 

His chuckles vibrate against you, he buries his face in your neck and breathes in your scent, “I’m so in love with you.”

He reminds you of that, all day, when he doesn’t whisper those words into your ear, he lets you feel it, with touches, with small gestures, leaving notes around the house or by waking you with coffee every morning when you’re not the one beating him to it. 

Steve pushes you down on the carpet and crawls on top of you, pressing one hand on the carpet beneath you, he looks away from you for a moment, taking the fully developed polaroid picture, he smiles at it as he pins it into the middle of the corkboard. 

You admire him, raising your hand to cup his cheek, you brush your fingers through his hair, it got so much longer but you love it like this, how it covers his forehead, how it curls on the nape of his neck, how messy it looks. 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” He whispers as he reaches for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, he looks down at you with loving eyes. 

“I’m in love with you.”

These words always feel like a warm and comforting embrace. There is so much love that he holds in his heart for you, he can’t even put it into words just how strong it is, not even if he tried to. 

You trace his features with your fingers, touching him softly and carefully, making him melt into your touch as a smile graces his face, he slowly leans in, closer and closer until your lips are brushing against each other. 

“Forever?” He asks you, gazing into your starry eyes. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling when he presses himself against you, staring at you in a way that makes all your insides tingle. 

“Forever and ever!” You grin before he slams his lips back on yours, kissing you deeply and feverishly, smiling happily against your lips as his hands make their way under your shirt while yours get lost in his hair. 

“Forever and ever,” he murmurs against your lips, opening his eyes, they basically sparkle with stars. “My darling, forever and ever, I fucking love the sound of that.” He whispers and kisses your cheek. “I love you.”

You pinch his chin between your fingers and kiss his lips, smiling brightly at your man, the golden light in your room makes him look so ethereal. His hazel eyes shine so golden, his skin inviting your lips, his hands lay on your body so perfectly, like a touch of an angel, perhaps he is one, he is yours. 

You went through the storm, the one you have always been so afraid of, you went through it, through the darkest of storms, through ones you didn’t even think existed and you didn’t come out unscathed, you were knocked off your feet and you were harmed, you took scars with you, on your body and in your heart but even through that, you came out alright – because he was always there, he always reached his hand out to you, he always waited on the other side, he was always there, even when you both didn’t realize just how close he always was, just how ready he always was to fight for you the way you always fought for him. 

You both went through so much, you both suffered greatly. 

But now you are here, with each other, where you both belong. 

Steve leans his forehead against yours, he takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips, he kisses your ring finger, making that smile on your face bigger and brighter. 

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you whisper back before you melt into each other, yet again. Getting lost in the kiss, one of endless to come. 

Hell was the journey but it brought you both to heaven. 

Hands tied,

♡

well, it's over, this is the end :') (actually there's still gonna be the epilogue so I'm gonna save my sappy comment for that one)

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @thecreelhouse @maroon-cardigan @corrodedcorpses @moon-flowerrs @munson-mjstan @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @agirlwholovesrockstars

[kairawrites]

first match.

author's note: first story I am sharing. please let me know if you want more for jude.

🌺masterlist🌺

pairing: jude bellingham x singer!reader

kiss prompt: Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force.

summary: After a nasty breakup and a smear campaign by your vengeful ex, your PR team goes into hyperdrive, searching for a way to salvage your reputation as you finalize your sophomore album. To reclaim your title as America's sweetheart, you reluctantly agree to 'date' footballer Jude Bellingham. After a successful and perfectly planned meet-cute, you realize the plan might actually work. To keep the rumor mill spinning, Jude invites you to Madrid to watch him play.

You sit stiffly in the plush leather chair, your gaze fixed on a random spot on the far wall. The spacious office of your record label, with its panoramic view of Los Angeles, feels more like a cage than a refuge. Your fingers toy absentmindedly with a loose thread on your sweater, the silence in the room heavy with unspoken tension. Last night was another sleepless one, your mind spinning with the chaos of the last few months.

The door creaks open, and Lara, your manager, strides in with her usual brisk efficiency. But it’s the man following her who catches you off guard. Tall and athletic, with a calm self-assurance, he immediately seems different from anyone you usually deal with during one of Lara’s many SOS meetings.

Unlike the man next to him, who wears a suit, he’s dressed in a well-fitted navy blackbomber jacket over a crisp white T-shirt, adding a casual yet polished touch. His dark jeans are tailored to fit just right, and his sneakers are sleek and clean, hinting at their designer pedigree without being overtly flashy. A simple silver chain peeks out from beneath his shirt. He wears a black fitted cap that he removes as he scans the room. His dark curls are neatly styled, and his eyes are a striking shade of deep brown—intense and thoughtful.

You turn to Lara, your irritation evident. “You didn’t say we were meeting with another artist. I’m not doing a feature with a random guy.”

Lara, however, ignores your protest, her focus on the two men before her. “Y/N, this is Jude Bellingham,” she introduces the young man with an upbeat, professional tone. She motions for you to stand. Doing so, you quickly shake his hand before sinking back into your chair. “Jude, meet Y/N.”

“Pleasure,” Jude grins, his eyes lingering on you as you lift your phone from the table.

Email Hendrix new song. You ignore the calendar notification before placing your phone back onto the table.

You were supposed to submit the new song last week, but it has been rescheduled for the third time. You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation you had zoned out of.

“Thank you for fitting us in during your vacation,” Lara says with a smile as your gaze drifts across the table.

You stare just long enough to take in the polite smile he offers. He’s handsome, you note distantly. “What’s your name again?” you ask, your voice flat.

“Jude Bellingham,” he repeats, his voice steady, though you can see the hint of surprise in his eyes.

You nod absently, not hiding your lack of interest. “Never heard of you.”

Lara’s eyes widen, and she quickly looks between you and Jude, an apologetic smile on her face. “I’m so sorry, Jude,” she says hastily. “She’s been…out of the loop for a while. She kinda keeps her head in the sand when working on new music.”

Jude’s lips twitch into a small, amused smile as he takes a seat beside his manager, who has been silently observing the exchange. “No worries,” he says, his tone easygoing.

He attempts to hold eye contact, but your gaze drops as Lara passes you an iPad.

Jude, however, can’t help but stare for a moment longer. He knows exactly who you are. He’s seen the headlines, the endless parade of tabloid articles that have taken over his social media feeds in recent months:

*"America’s Sweetheart Caught Cheating?”*

*"Ryan West’s Heartbreak: Y/N’s Betrayal?"*

*"Ryan West: Played a Fool by Y/N? Singer Dumped After He Helps Secure Her First Grammy!"*

*"From Darling to Villain: The Fall of Y/N."*

The headlines were relentless, painting you as the villain in the messy, public breakup with Ryan West, the wild, playboy singer whose antics are as legendary as his music. Jude had seen the pictures throughout your relationship—snaps of a happy couple slowly morphing to you tearful and exhausted outside of clubs and in the passenger seat of Ryan’s car, Ryan’s angry rants during concerts, and the public’s merciless scrutiny of every detail. The narrative turned on you overnight, casting you as the one who shattered the fairytale, though it’s clear to him now, seeing you in person, that there’s much more to the story.

You’re undeniably beautiful, even though your appearance starkly contrasts with the perfectly curated photos on your Instagram. Your skin glows softly in the muted light of the office, and your long dark locks are pulled back into a simple ponytail. Without makeup, your natural beauty is evident, but there’s a guardedness about you, a weariness that clings to you like a shadow. You’re wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, and your lips are set in a firm line. Your dark, eyes remain focused anywhere but on him. You’re present in body but somewhere else in your mind, uninterested in the moment and, by extension, in him.

Lara notices how Jude’s eyes linger on your features, a hint of admiration in his gaze. She gently but firmly pulls your chair closer to hers, her expression shifting to one of urgency. As Jude leans over to better hear his manager speak, Lara shoots you a sharp glare. “Do you really not know who that is?” she hisses quietly. “Didn’t you read the email I sent?”

You shake your head, already annoyed by the direction this conversation is taking.

“He’s one of the biggest footballers in the world right now,” Lara explains. “He’s just finished a fantastic season with Real Madrid and is on vacation after helping his national team reach the finals of the Euros.”

“Throwing out accolades isn’t going to make me suddenly know who this guy is, Lara. I don’t watch soccer—”

“For the love of God, please do not call it that to his face,” Lara winces. “Since you didn’t read my email, here it is. He’s basically a household name for every fan of the sport. This isn’t just some random guy we’re talking about—Jude Bellingham is a huge deal. Kids want to grow up to be him, women want to sleep with him, and men want to be him. This is a massive opportunity, so you need to make this work because, frankly, we don’t have many other options right now. The media has been brutal, and we need to change the narrative.”

Change the narrative–the phrase that has appeared in every text, phone call, email, and conversation with Lara from the past six months. 

You take in her words, feeling a mix of irritation and resignation. The last thing you want is to be forced into something like this, but you also know Lara’s right. If this can help you regain some control over the situation, it might be worth it.

“Fine,” you say at last, your voice laced with reluctance. “But let’s keep it simple.”

Lara nods, visibly relieved. Her swift response suggests she’s eager to finalize things before you change your mind. “Thank you. Now, let’s get this started on the right foot.”

You straighten your posture as Lara retrieves a stack of iPads from her purse. Powering the first on, she slides it across the table. Your expression remains guarded as you look at Jude. He seems relaxed, though there’s an air of curiosity about him as he watches you.

Jude clears his throat, attempting to ease the awkwardness. “Nice to meet you,” he says, his voice steady despite your apparent lack of interest. “I’m actually a big fan of your music.”

“Thank you,” you mutter, barely audible. “And thanks for coming.”

“Y/N, Jude’s team approached us with a proposal that could be mutually beneficial,” Lara explains. “We think it’s a great opportunity for both of you to take control of the media narratives for each of your careers.”

As she begins explaining the details of the contract, you lean forward to start reading it, trying to focus on the terms. You attempt to ignore the brown eyes carefully watching you from across the table by zooming in on the document. You skip each page, focusing on the bolded text. 

**Duration**: The PR stunt relationship will last for six months, giving both parties a clear timeframe for the arrangement. The time can be adjusted to fit the likings of both parties.

**Public Appearances**: Both parties agree to attend a minimum of five public events together, including concerts, charity functions, and social gatherings, to ensure maximum media coverage.

**Social Media Engagement**: Both will make joint social media posts and coordinate public appearances to generate buzz and maintain public interest.

**Media Interviews**: Both parties will participate in at least three joint interviews or promotional activities, designed to keep the media engaged and the narrative active.

**Behavioral Expectations**: Both parties are expected to maintain a positive public image and avoid any controversial behavior that could negatively impact the arrangement.

**Privacy Clauses**: Provisions are included to protect personal boundaries and ensure that certain aspects of your private lives remain confidential.

**Termination Conditions**: The contract includes terms for early termination, specifying any penalties or requirements for ending the arrangement before the agreed-upon end date.

You bite your lip, unable to hold in a nagging thought. You glance at Jude before looking back at Lara. “I don’t date athletes. My fans know that.”

Jude raises an eyebrow, a cheeky grin forming on his lips. “That’s fair. But, well, we’ve seen how it turned out with musicians. You might need to give an athlete a try.”

His smile spreads as he notes the narrowing of your eyes.

“I mean,” you huff directing your attention to Lara. “Won’t people be suspicious if I suddenly fall head over heels with someone like him? He’s not my type.”

“I can be pretty convincing.”

As you approach the security gate, you are greeted by shocked but excited murmurs. Fans recognize you immediately, their phones out, capturing every moment as you present your ticket. You pose for a few quick pictures, deflecting questions about whether you are here specifically to see Jude play. “Just here to enjoy the game!” you say with a smile, trying to stay composed despite the intense scrutiny.

“Follow me,” Toby Bishay, Jude’s best friend, says with a reassuring smile, breaking through your anxious thoughts. His warm smile brings one to your lips. “I’ll show you to your seat.”

“Just stick with Toby,” Jude assured you through a brief text exchange earlier in the morning. “He'll keep an eye on you. Glad you had a safe flight. See you after the match."

You trail after Toby, trying to shake off the feeling of being under a microscope. The perfectly crafted “meet cute,” which happened shortly after your initial meeting, was captured by paparazzi in LA, not taking long to circulate. The rumors exploded, and the world wondered when you’d be spotted together again. The time finally came nearly three weeks later, and now you find yourself on the biggest stage in the football world, every eye on you.

The electric hum of excitement buzzes through Santiago Bernabéu Stadium as you follow Toby through the corridors, the air thick with anticipation. Thousands of fans are already in their seats.

“Have you ever been to a game before?” Toby asks, glancing back at you.

“No, this is my first time,” you admit, feeling a little self-conscious at the admission.

“Then you picked a great game for your debut,” Toby says, guiding you through the maze of hallways. “The atmosphere here is insane–unlike anything else.”

You study him as he glances at his phone, wondering how much he knew about the relationship between you and his best friend. 

“Jude pulled out the stops,” he chuckles, pausing to hold the door for you. “Wanted you to have the best seats in the house. Remind me to have him invite you more often.”

As you emerge into the open, the sheer magnitude of the stadium hits you like a tidal wave. The sea of fans stretches out in every direction, a sea of white Real Madrid jerseys and waving flags. The stands are a swirling mosaic of movement and color, with scarves held high and banners flapping in the breeze. The roar of the crowd is overwhelming, a vibrant, pulsating force that envelops you. 

The atmosphere reminds you of your own concerts—the energy, the collective excitement. But it has been a while since you’ve been a member of the crowd instead of the one performing. The memory brings a nostalgic smile to your lips. You hear the crowd chanting in unison, their voices melding together into a powerful wave of sound. “Hala Madrid! Hala Madrid!”  The energy is palpable, a living, breathing entity that seems to resonate with every cheer and chant from the stands.

You look over to find Toby watching you with a grin, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“This is nothing,” he assures you over the roar of the crowd. “Wait till the game starts.”

Toby leads you to your seats, which are positioned near the halfway line, offering an excellent view of the field. You can feel the weight of the crowd’s curiosity pressing down on you as you settle in. 

A flutter of nerves dances in your stomach as you notice the woman next to you widen her eyes. She quickly turns to her boyfriend, whispering something in his ear.

You adjust the jersey you are wearing. It was delivered to your house merely twenty-four hours ago, as you struggled to finish last-minute packing. It came with a note from Jude that read: Gotta look the part.

You instinctively reach up, adjusting the elastic of your ponytail. You remember leaning over the hotel sink, studying your handiwork. The high ponytail was strategic, making it impossible for anyone to miss Jude Bellingham’s name and number prominently displayed across your back.

You sit forward in your seat, your hands gripping the railing as you scan the warm-ups. Your brow furrows once you realize Jude is nowhere in sight. It is strange not to have seen him in person since your first public appearance. Busy with training, he had flown back to Spain while you attempted to work on your album. But the lack of inspiration meant you hadn’t made any progress. In the three weeks since your last meeting, most of your communication has been through text, with a few phone conversations as you worked out the logistics of your visit. His texts were a consistent flood of humor, cheekiness, and a few tidbits of personal information. He didn't seem to mind that your answers weren't nearly as interesting or long as his. He had expected it to take a bit for you to warm up to him. When you'd expressed the struggle with finding inspiration for your new song, he invited you out to Spain for the week.

“Don’t worry about the attention,” Toby says, sensing your discomfort. “Once the game starts, they’ll be too focused on Jude and the action to pay much attention to anything else.”

You nod, trying to take comfort in his words. You pull out your phone and snap a photo of the field as the players warm up. The view is breathtaking—the vibrant green of the pitch, the players stretching and preparing, the energy of the stadium. You carefully consider what to write before deciding to type “Hala Madrid!” and sharing it to your Instagram story.

You instantly close the app, knowing it will only take a few seconds for the post to confirm what the internet is already wondering. Clicking on your messages, you ignore the waiting message from Lara that reads: Remember to smile and cheer for your man!

Instead of responding, you click on Jude’s name. The last message he sent was a simple, No need to say thank you in response to your gratitude for ensuring Toby would be your guide.

You quickly type, Have a great game! before slipping your phone into your purse.

As the game begins, the referee’s whistle pierces through the air, and the match kicks off with a burst of energy that ripples through the stadium. The crowd's collective roar washes over you. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and trepidation, and you find yourself momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the experience.

As the first half unfolds, Toby leans over, pointing out a few things. “So, Jude’s playing midfield. His job is to control the game—set the pace, connect the defense and attack. Watch how he moves off the ball, too. That’s where he really shines.”

You nod, not entirely sure you understood everything, but appreciating Toby’s effort to make you feel more comfortable. 

At first, you find it hard to focus. The crowd is so loud, so passionate, that it is hard to concentrate on anything else. You’d never seen anything like it—the way the fans were completely engrossed in every pass, every tackle, every near miss. But as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself getting swept up in the atmosphere, your eyes increasingly drawn to Jude.

He is everywhere on the pitch, commanding, graceful, yet powerful. The way he moves, the way he controls the ball, it is almost hypnotic. Toby was right—Jude was something special out there.

“See how he’s always looking around?” Toby points out as Jude receives the ball. “He knows where everyone is before he even touches the ball. That’s what makes him so good—he’s always thinking two steps ahead.”

You nod, your focus entirely on Jude. The noise of the crowd fades into the background as you watch him maneuver through opponents with a grace and precision that’s nothing short of extraordinary. The skill and artistry of his play make it clear why he is so adored by fans.

Suddenly, a collective gasp from the stands jolts you from your trance. Your eyes snap to the field just in time to see Jude being tackled hard. He hits the ground with a thud, and for a brief moment, he lies motionless. Panic grips your chest, a cold wave of fear crashing over you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, clutching the edge of your seat. The stadium seems to hold its breath with you as Jude sits up. Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind racing with worry.

Relief floods over you as Jude grins, pushing himself off the ground. The crowd erupts into cheers, and Jude gives them a reassuring wave. You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still racing.

“Surely that’s a foul,” you glance over to find Toby grinning. 

“That happens a lot,” Toby says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “Jude’s used to not getting calls. He’ll be fine.”

You nod, your eyes following Jude as he moves back to position.

The game progresses, the tension building with each passing minute. As the half winds towards halftime, the tension in the stadium is palpable. Jude makes another run down the field, and you can’t help but feel a knot of anxiety in your stomach. Memories of his earlier tackle flash through your mind, making you hold your breath as you watch his every move. You grip the edge of your seat, your heart racing with anticipation.

Jude skillfully navigates past a defender, and you can barely contain your nerves as he lines up for a shot. The entire stadium seems to hold its breath in a collective gasp as the ball sails through the air. Time seems to slow down in that suspended moment, and your eyes follow the ball as it arches toward the goal.

Then, with a powerful strike, the ball whizzes past the outstretched arms of the goalkeeper and smashes into the back of the net. The stadium erupts in a cacophony of deafening cheers. The sound washes over you like a wave, a mix of joy, relief, and exhilaration. You find yourself on your feet, screaming and jumping up and down, completely swept up in the euphoria of the moment.

Toby pulls you into a hug, the thrill of the goal echoing in your cheers. The crowd's energy is infectious, Jude stumbling forward as his teammates crash into him in excitement. 

As the crowd’s cheers intensify, Jude escapes the huddle and waves to the stands. Your heart skips a beat as you realize he’s jogging in your direction, his eyes locked on yours.

Without hesitation, Jude leans over the barrier and pulls you into a tight hug, his arms securing around your waist and drawing you close. You giggle, maintaining your balance as you feel the heat and sweat of his jersey against your skin. Jude’s embrace is warm and comforting, his grip tightening as his face buries into your neck, and the crowd’s cheers fade into the background.

As you pull back from Jude’s embrace, still breathless from the moment, you can’t help but exclaim, “That was amazing!” Your hands instinctively rest on his cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from him. "You were--amazing!"

Jude’s smile broadens, a genuine, radiant expression that lights up his face. His eyes lock onto yours with a softness that surprises you. There’s no trace of the cheekiness you expect from him.

“I had to make your first match memorable,” he breathes.

“You did that.”

Jude’s eyes linger on your grin as if savoring the sight. He registers the way your smile lights up your entire face, making you look even more radiant. The warmth and joy in your expression seem to captivate him, making you appear more beautiful than ever. It’s a sight he, and the world, hasn’t seen from you in months, and the pride he feels at making you smile swells beneath his racing heart.

Your smile softens as his grip drifts to your hips. The warmth of his smile seems to draw you closer as if an invisible force is compelling you to bridge the gap. His eyes hold a gentle intensity, and for a heartbeat, it feels like the entire stadium fades away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared understanding and anticipation.

But the spell is broken as his name rings through the intercom system, forcing you to blink. The deafening roar of excitement from the crowd reminds you of the public nature of the moment. Jude’s gaze shifts briefly to the surrounding commotion, and with a playful grin, he pulls back, his smile still warm but tinged with a hint of mischief.

“So, how about a kiss? It’s definitely what they wanna see.”

"And let me guess, you're a man of the people?"

"So I've been told."

Your eyes roll. Lightly pressing against his shoulders, you arch your brow as his grip remains. Your eyes pass over Jude's shoulder to the players returning to their positions. 

“Maybe if you get another goal.”

“Deal,” he winks, before pulling back with a smirk and jogging back onto the field.

You watch him go, your heart still racing from the unexpected intimacy of the moment. As you sink back into your seat, a hand resting on your chest to steady your breath, the realization of the stunt hits you with renewed clarity. It’s all part of the carefully orchestrated PR show. But as you look at Jude rejoining his teammates, a small part of you wonders if there’s something more beneath the surface. The match continues, and you find yourself caught between the excitement of the evening and the nagging reminder of the reality you’re playing in. But you can't help but wonder what will happen if he looks at you like that again during your week in Madrid.

[wokelander]

(TELL ME I’M YOUR) NATIONAL ANTHEM !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. president!leon, intern!reader, drug mentions, affair, cheating, smut, p in v sex, oral, blowjob, just general presidential gross behaviour

note. commission for @slovakbabe :33 sorry this is so late.. kept changing it ugh! ignore any typos / mistakes :3 feedback / rbs appreciated. inaccurate bc i’m british 💔 some details r taken completely from lewinsky-clinton case! like umm the dress duh.. and some of the trial talk! also the part w claire um! sorry the pov keeps switching oh my gosh!!! hope u like this and I hope it was worth the wait!!! tried to compress the plot to make it fit into the word limit so if it sounds jumpy excuse me… readers personality changed ack..

God bless America, and God fucking bless nepotism.

You don’t know a thing about environmental quality, your carbon footprint is far bigger than your So Kates and it’s not something you’ve ever been concerned about. Dad was an advisor to whoever was in office twenty years ago and his last name takes you further than your English degree ever has.

The lady in charge of interviews tells you that you have a ‘good face’ and that must mean something. When you get the call a few weeks later you’re not surprised. Now your parents have something to gush over at soirées and afternoon tea parties - their girl is interning at the White House.

“He’s a liar, a total liar, you know, I don’t think he even knows what he’s doing, he reads off a script twenty-four-seven.” Claire can’t even pretend to be happy, she struggles to look at you when you drop the news over brunch.

“I mean he’s the President, Claire, lying is like his job,” you say to her, checking out your pores in your compact mirror, “and he’s hot, have you seen him in that Vogue photoshoot? The nineties one?”

“Yeah.” Her bottom lip juts out. “He’s also a sex pest, they just put whoever's got the most statutory rape allegations against them in office, the people’s vote doesn’t even count.”

“Jesus, he’s not that bad, Claire.” You stand up, dusting the crumbs off your lap and leaving a tip on the table.

“He knows Epstein.” Claire takes a moment to stand, but she follows when you start to walk away.

“Yeah, but not that Epstein, Claire.” In all honesty, you don’t know much about President Kennedy other than his sexual escapades, you know a lot about those. You know about his affair with Ashley ‘America’s Sweetheart’ Graham, and you know what she was wearing when they got caught by the media.

Graff earrings that weighed 52.55 carats each, you wonder how many children died digging out those white diamonds, a yellow cap-sleeve dress and white closed-toe pumps, four inches tall. She towered over him in the photos the same way his wife does.

“How many Epstein's are there?” She’s so intense, you feel the heat of her anger when your arm brushes hers.

“A lot, and not all of them are Jeffrey’s.” You turn to face her, giving her a smile in hopes of settling her down. “Now, I’m going to powder my nose in the ladies’ room and you’re going to wait out here, and when I come back you’ll be calm, ‘kay?”

When you return she’s not calm, and she’s not calm for the following week, but she wishes you good luck over the phone on Monday morning and it’s because Claire could never stay mad at a pretty girl.

You put on your best (read: shortest) dress, within regulations of course, you’re not looking to get fired on your first day, but you are looking to turn a certain head.

Your peers are dressed comfortably, to say the least, well, as comfortable as business wear can be.

Poor sartorial taste is always an indicator of wealth. The girl to your left might be a Harvard graduate, but if that tacky brooch says anything it’s that she came from a blue-collar neighbourhood. Her bouclé jacket is obviously thrifted and flats? Seriously? Ballet pumps in the White House must be a dress code violation.

The rumpled shirt of the boy directly in your eye line has got to be the biggest fashion faux pas you’ve seen like ever—Well, your sister wore white after Labour Day, and a chunky statement necklace a decade too late.

Smarts can only take you so far, but looks are everything. The clean-cut elegance of a Louboutin, a timeless red lip, and a nice ass in a tight skirt. Oh, you’ll be going places for sure.

(The second floor of the White House perhaps.)

Your superior, Helena, gets it. She’s tall and that always helps. Immaculately dressed in tailored pinstripe trousers, they’re not quite ankle-swingers, but short enough to show off her sleek boots.

Man, you should’ve gone to fashion school.

When everyone stands, smoothing the creases in their clothes, girls using their thumbs to clean the lipstick from the corners of their mouths - you’re a beat late, too many eyesores taking up the space in your head.

But there’s nothing for you to fix, you already look perfect, so you stand pretty while they tremble in ill-fitting dresses.

The camera adds ten pounds, President Kennedy is all the more handsome in the flesh. That face says Italian love affair, but you know that dick is American as apple pie.

His wife is close by his side, their arms looped in a show of sanitised intimacy. Sophistication is dead and gone, pillbox hats and pearls are out, Ada Wong is more seedy sex dungeon worker than Jackie O. It’s admirable really, you’ve got to have guts to dress like the mistress.

President Kennedy makes his way down the line of interns, and then, he pauses in front of you, close enough to smell his cologne. His eyes follow the clean lines of your outfit, and then he grips your hand too tight.

It’s when you’re mingling an hour later after your introductory session, Helena approaches you in her usual composed manner, and very simply says, “Be careful around him.”

“Who?” You ask though you know exactly who she means.

“Leon.” The informality takes you off guard, her brows furrow like his name is sour on her tongue.

“Oh.” You pretend to take this in, but you’ll suck dick to break the glass ceiling, you’d risk the Kennedy curse for that man. “I mean, I’ll try to be careful, but I have to be in his good books.”

Helena’s lips form a thin line. “Trying isn’t good enough.”

“Big day ahead of you.” Ada sits on the end of the bed, fully clothed to the detriment of Leon’s dick. A non-existent sex life is a side effect of marriage he hopes scientists are working on daily to find a cure for.

“Isn't every day a big day?” If it’s not constant meetings and putting false hope in the heart of every American, it’s brunch with world leaders and dinner with the Pope where cocaine is served under a cloche.

“Hm.” She places her teacup down, gliding towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders. “Nice tie.”

“I know,” Leon says absentmindedly, scraping the powder beneath his nails out, a makeshift French manicure, “It’s Armani.”

“And not custom-made?” She pinches his cheek, gentle in the way only a paring knife could be. Leaves a wound that won’t ache until he notices it in the mirror later. “You’re slacking, Mr. President.

“And you’re exasperating, Ada.”

“Wow.” Ada’s brows shoot up into her hairline. “That’s a big word.”

“Yeah, I’ve been learning.” Leon sniffs as she looks him over with practised attraction.

“Aw, just so you can be mean to me?”

“You know it, beautiful.”

The only good thing about today is the interns. Fresh meat. Leon’s a cat person, he likes cougars and sex kittens, and he’s sure there’ll be plenty to pick from. Older women are easy to please and younger ones are easy to charm, the moment he steps into that room, getting his dick wet is the main priority.

Hunnigan doesn’t have to know that he doesn’t really care about where these girls graduated from. Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton. They’ve all got pussies and that’s what matters.

Leon makes his way down the line like it’s a pageant show.

Too short, too shy, too tall, too thin, too fat, straight up ugly.

And then there’s you. Put together, smiling at him all coy like you want him. Girls like Ashley don’t ask for it, they beg for it—You look like you know what you’re here for, you don’t need to beg ‘cause he likes you already.

Leon gets the chance to talk to you an hour later, Helena shoulders past him as he approaches, Hunnigan a few steps behind him. He hopes Helena didn’t say anything in bad taste. In her words, Leon is a ‘Napoleonic little fuck’ and if it wasn’t for the pay, she’d want nothing to do with him. She’s not his biggest fan, so he prays she hasn’t fucked it up for him before he even got a chance.

“So, how old are you?” Leon asks brashly, his mouth twitches upwards when you tilt your head to the side and challenge him with your gaze alone.

“I’m legal if that’s what you’re after, Mr. President.” You could tie his balls together like cherry knots with a sharp tongue like that.

“How legal?” Fucking legal? Drinking legal? Voting legal?

“Very legal, Mr. President, I wouldn’t get you into any trouble or anything.” Your smile is cheeky, and your eyes glint, you’re trouble from head to toe.

“I don’t need you to get me in trouble.” Leon smiles back at you, that skirt is so fucking tight, he wonders if he could get you out of it.

“Mr. President,” Hunnigan warns, her wooden face seems to come to life, a small frown gracing her lips.

“Don’t be jealous, baby, you know I love you and only you.” Leon takes her hand, kissing her fingers until she snatches it back. He catches you laughing into your palm.

See? Easy to charm.

“Mr. President.” His final warning.

“I’m joking.” Leon’s face softens when you slip past her into the crowd, hates to see you go, loves to watch you walk away.

“You need to work on your jokes, Mr. President.” Ada grabs his shoulder from behind and he’s chilled to his core. Jesus. She’s so fucking scary sometimes. “I think you’re having a midlife crisis, they’re getting younger by the second, we should get you a shrink, Leon.”

“Yeah, okay, Ada, you can stop trying to pimp me out.” He’s eye level with her today. She’s opted for a shorter pair of heels, less threatening.

“Pimp you out?” She scoffs, “I just don’t want to be bailing you out, Leon.”

“Don’t need to be bailed out.” Leon shrugs. “I’m the President.”

Being an intern, Helena tells you and the rest of your peers, it means you won’t get to brush shoulders with the President as much as you probably hoped. He doesn’t visit often. He’s busy—

But he comes every day like the sun.

He pretends to be interested in the environment, whatever it is that you’re meant to be doing, but Leon might be the biggest private jet offender yet.

You notice the agitation that crosses Helena’s face anytime he intrudes, it passes a moment later, back to her usual impassivity by the time he sticks his nose in your business.

“Merely interested,” Mr. President claims like he wasn’t looking down your shirt. “Just passing by,” he says when he places a hand on your shoulder and lets it linger.

He never goes further, and it drives you crazy. He’s the fucking President, he could get away with groping you in public, he could make you get on your knees right now and he’s holding back.

Being the President and all, you suppose he's immune to flattery, and that’s alright. You’re immune to diamonds and fast cars and designer dresses. Been there, done that. You won’t be swayed so easily, you don’t want his money, you want his dick and a little piece of his heart, a mention in his will, the key to the Kennedy estate.

You want to go down in history, any publicity is good publicity, you live and die by that. Weighing up the options, you decide playing hard to get is what might work best—He’s already got everything, and he already wants you, you know he does, but you’re going to take that away from him.

No more peeking down your blouse, no more wandering hands and no more flirting. You’re cutting him off, cold turkey. Like, yeah, hypothetically President Kennedy could get any girl he wanted, but he most certainly won’t be getting you, and every man wants what he can’t get.

By the end of the week, he’ll want to break you in like a pair of new dress shoes, he’ll be eating out the palm of your hand, and maybe your pussy from the back.

It works like a charm.

“You’re avoiding me,” Mr. Kennedy says, free of his security detail as he corners you in the hall, his nose brushing yours, eyes wide and desperate—It’s only been a week.

“What makes you think that, Mr. President?” You feign disbelief, placing a dainty hand over your heart. His eyes catch the light like a cats, a crescent of white eclipsing the blue.

“Leon,” he corrects, the usual smarmy smile wiped off his face, “say it.” His hand cups the underside of your chin, tilting it upwards.

You pretend to falter, gazing over his shoulder with glassy eyes like uttering his name is too much for a mere intern like you. It’s not, it’s really not.

“Leon…” You repeat back to him slowly, like you’re new to this planet and you’ve never heard the name outside of his utterance.

Slowly, Leon draws back, hands dropping to his side as he looks down at his shiny shoes. “Don’t… Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“All shy, it don’t suit you.”

“Oh.” So he knows what you were doing. Maybe you’re not as smart as you thought.

His hands ghost over your body, and he asks if you’ll meet him after dark. You’re an opportunist, so you accept and find yourself doing overtime in the Oval Office.

He’s gentler than you expect, cradling your face as he rocks his hips into you. You don’t kiss on the first date, but you’ve never been opposed to some fun. Leon’s head drops to rest on your shoulder, you wonder while you pass a hand over his hair if the Barbie blond is natural or a personal choice.

This is terribly boring, you thought there’d be something exciting about fucking in the Oval Office, but you find yourself more interested in the interior design. Could use a column or two, ionic or Doric or whatever.

Oh gosh is that a photo of his mom—And his wife is a given, oh and Ashley Graham is there too, is that even allowed? He doesn’t have kids, thank god.

Leon finishes on your stomach, then he twists to face the closed golden drapes - a sight you’ve only ever seen on the silver screen. Like clockwork, he plucks the mini flag from his desk and uses it like a handkerchief, wiping his cum from your stomach.

Planting his seed in American soil, you guess.

His body trembles with aftershocks in your hold, and he offers a weary smile. “Was it… Was it good?” Leon’s eyes shift, he can’t hold your gaze as he tucks his limp dick into his slacks.

Awaiting your answer, he toys with the buttons on his shirt like a child looking for comfort in what they’re used to, that nervous look is out of place on his face.

“Of course it was good,” you lie, smoothing down your skirt, “you’re the President.” You don’t step into your heels yet, instead letting him revel in the inch or so he has on you, kissing his protruding collarbone.

That brings him to his senses, Leon’s chest puffs as he nods like it’s all coming back to him, his arrogance. “Right, yeah, I am.”

Before you leave, Leon takes your wrist in his hand, his nails look manicured. He’s got the nose for cocaine so you don’t put it past him. “Same time tomorrow?”

You smile at him sweetly. “Of course.”

Duh. You haven’t got a legacy out of him yet, nobody knows your name outside of your social circle and that’s not enough. Nice cars, colonial mansions—It’s not enough, you don’t need what you already have. When disposable income is all you know, when money grows in your backyard, it’s nothing about that. You won’t be done until you’ve run him into the ground.

Sure, you’re two yachts and a beach house in Miami rich, but you’re not the First Lady. You could boss around a maid or two, get a server fired when you go out to eat, but you don’t have world leaders rolling out red carpets for you to walk on when you land.

Honestly, if you weren’t so concerned with your figure, you’d think about poking a couple holes in the rubber—If that dick even works right.

A week later, you have him kissing your ankles while they dangle over his shoulders, the wet sound of his balls slapping your ass and strained moans as he tries to keep it down filling your ears.

Again, nothing to write home about, his tip barely manages to knock your cervix as he fucks into you with all he’s got, panting into your mouth while you kiss him. You gave up on faking it a couple of days in, you’ve a very good liar, but not a great actor.

You find that your disinterest gets him going, he sees it as a challenge, Leon takes pride in making you do as little as sigh when he thumbs your clit with deft fingers.

“Fuck, wait, I’m gonna—“ His eyes are lidded, staring at you expectantly while his hips stutter, dick pulsing inside of your slick cunt, his tip is wetter than you are. “Can I?”

“Yeah, sure.” You give him the green light and he spills inside of you, it trickles out, dribbling back down his shaft and leaving a residue on the underside of your ass. “I didn’t finish,” you tell him, unsticking your thighs from the glossy wood so you can shift back and spread your legs wide.

Slowly but surely, Leon gets the hint, slightly flustered by how straightforward you’re being. His thumbs part your pussy lips, tongue licking up the centre of your cunt, eating his cum out of your wet hole. You place a hand on the back of his head, pushing him into you, his nose bumps your clit and you gasp.

Oh god, why is his nose more talented than he is? You feel Leon’s fingers push into you, two to keep you happy, curling upwards as his lips latch onto your clit. You cum on his tongue, toes curling in your shoes, it’s pleasant and nothing more, like sun-warmed water lapping at your toes.

Leon moves to kiss you, his pink lips wet with your pussy, you want him to go home and kiss his wife with that mouth, you want him to wear your scent in place of his cologne. Your pussy is super prestigious, costs way more than Tom Ford.

Foxes are nifty little things - sometimes they come in the form of young girls with nice asses.

You’re pissing him off.

Nice car, wow, Mr. President! My dad has one parked in the garage, but we haven’t used it in a while. It's too loud, disturbs the neighbours. Oh, Leon, you shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have, I don’t wear yellow diamonds, haven’t you heard of colour theory? They so don’t suit my undertones. Wow, Mr. Kennedy! You were in an episode of Friends once thirty years ago? Oh, gosh, you played Joey’s distant Italian cousin? That’s so crazy, my mom and Jennifer Aniston work out together every Tuesday!

Nothing’s enough, and that’s never been a problem for Leon. Even girls who have everything, Ashley Graham to name one, swoon over classic cars and ball gowns and him. They go crazy over him, but you’re using him as a stepping stool for something else. What else? What more could you want?

Leon might be fucking stupid when it comes to politics, he doesn’t know what to say without prompts, he doesn’t know shit about Guam or Penamstan or much at all—But he’s not dumb, you’re using him, and he’s letting you use him. Walking all over him in six-inch pumps, leaving your lipstick on his collar like you own him, sucking his dick so damn good he can't get rid of you.

You’re like a bed bug. A really hot bed bug. You’re also young, but his cock doesn’t care for morals or ethics and it never really has. Dick wants what the dick wants.

He isn’t going to be stupid this time—You don't want to be impressed so Leon won’t waste time buying you jewellery you consider old fashion, no need to take you for spins in vintage cars, you just want him. He gets it - everyone likes him.

“You’ve never taken me home,” you tell him one night, the white hotel sheets draped over your naked body, angel wings or a shrouded corpse, he's not quite sure.

“There’s nothing interesting at home.” Leon’s bottom lip juts out, preening when you scratch under his chin.

“Doesn’t have to be interesting.” You’re buttering him up with kisses. “You like me, right, Leon?”

“I guess so.” He grunts when you give him a swift elbow in the gut. “I’m kidding, of course I like you.”

“Then why don’t you want to take me home?” Your greed is so violent it grows teeth, he feels your nails digging into his skin.

He gives you one look. “You should know your place.” In my life, at work. An intern and a mistress.

You’re not one to back down. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry,” Leon says quickly, fuck, man, you’re scary. Ada isn’t scary, she’s just a bitch, in a hot way—You’re, like, mean. You boss him around and for some reason, he listens. Jesus Christ, isn’t the power imbalance meant to go the other way around?

“I want to come home with you,” you beg, but it’s not really begging, it's an instruction, “I want to sleep in your bed, don’t you like me?”

“I do like you, baby,” he insists, sighing softly when you take your hands off of him, he still feels the sting of your nails on his back, “I like you a lot, you think I treat anyone else like this?”

“Yeah, I bet you do this to every girl.” When it’s just the two of you, when he gets you bare like this, your age shows.

“Not true,” he scoffs.

(Obviously, that’s true.)

“Okay, so then if I’m sooo special, you should take me home.” God, you’re gonna ask him to dump his wife next. This is the problem with rich kids, they’re as entitled as he is. “It’s not like you have kids.”

Leon’s carelessness is lined with caution. He’ll take a mistress or two, but he won’t take that home. That’s something you do outside of the marriage bed. But you’re a kid, you wouldn’t know that, this is probably the first time you’ve fucked a married man, let alone the President.

“It doesn’t work like that, baby,” he tries carefully, pinching your cheek, “you’re a smart girl, you should know better.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, I’m not a kid.” It’s spoken like an accusation, his fingers lose all dexterity when you push him away.

“I know, baby, but you’re being a little selfish right now, you know that?” Comforting you is a balancing act, he flicks through a Rolodex of tactics in his head. He lands on making you feel small. Guilt-tripping doesn’t work on girls who are spoiled rotten, begging just makes you feel like the shit. “It’s not just about you here, is it?”

When you don’t answer, he continues. “If I took you home, I’d put everything at stake, I know you know that.” Leon pulls you apart like orange segments while you turn his mind into your personal playground—It’s a fair trade.

You turn over quietly and he knows he’s won.

It goes on for a month, and then two, and then three and then more—Leon finds himself wondering when it’s time to introduce you officially as his side piece. Unofficially, most insiders know, but the press hasn’t picked up on it yet. If Ada knows she says nothing about it - she lets him be quietly awful.

Your duties with Helena dwindle and he finds you under his desk more often than not, lips stretched around his cock, your lipstick smeared on his shaft.

Leon slaps his dick against your cheek and you jump, shoulders up near your ears.

“Don’t do that.” You pop off his cock to scold him, the wet of your mouth engulfing him a moment later, head bobbing as you take him to the hilt.

“Sorry,” he nearly whines, lips parting when you mouth along his dick, licking the seam of his sac when you reach the base.

Your hand works his cock while you suck on his heavy balls, leaving your red kisses all over him, he’ll watch them run down the drain when he showers. He feels your teeth graze his sensitive skin and the knot in his lower belly snaps, seed spurting from his leaky tip and landing on your cute red blouse in white ribbons. You kind of look like a red velvet cake.

“Oh fuck, Leon!” You knock your head on the desk when you get up, rubbing the forming bump with a groan as you dab at the stain on your shirt with a tissue.

“I’m sorry, you surprised me!” He makes no move to help ‘cause when he does try you only seem to get more agitated at him.

“Fuck, just—How am I supposed to go home like this?” The stain is pretty much cemented, that shit is potent, goddamn.

“You can take my jacket,” Leon offers, ever the gentleman.

“Right, and let everyone find out?” You raise a brow at him.

“Thought that’s what you wanted anyway,” he huffs.

“I do, but not like this,” you groan, missing the trashcan when you toss the clump of wet tissues, “I want to be caught doing something romantic, or just glamorous, not with your fucking dick in my mouth.”

“Oh, baby,” Leon coos, “but you’ve always got my dick in your mouth.”

“Shut up, Leon, oh—Whatever, just, I’m leaving, okay? Don’t call me tonight.” You grab your handbag from his desk, heels click-clacking as you exit, a very proud and noticeable stain on your right tit. He likes that one better.

Leon doesn’t call you, he finds himself away on foreign business, swept up by presidential duties for once and too busy to answer any calls that aren’t to do with work. He’s in Paris overseeing whatever Hunmigan told him to oversee when the news breaks. He never sees your voicemails until they come to him in the form of transcripts.

Leon, oh god, I’m sorry—I’m sorry for being a bitch last week, but can you please call me back? It’s important.

Leon? I’m sorry, can you call me back? It’s really important, I’m—I’m not fucking around, I promise. It’s just that, oh god, Leon, I really messed up, I can’t believe… I don’t want you to hate me for this, I know you’re mad at me, but please can you answer? They didn’t let me in today, they said you were away and—I told them who I was, that I worked there, I gave them Helena’s name and they still, Leon they didn’t let me in. I thought they knew about us.

Leon, I can’t—I need you to answer me, I feel like I’m talking into thin air, can you please just call me back, please, Leon? It’s urgent. I fucked up, I just need you to answer me so we can fix this, I fucked up so bad and I’m sorry, Leon—I was, I was stupid, but I can fix it if you just answer me. I love you a lot, Leon, please answer me.

I didn’t mean to call her, Leon, I didn’t—I mean, she’s my friend, I tell her everything and I wasn’t thinking. I was just upset, I just wanted to talk to someone about it, I didn’t know she would—I didn’t know she would do that to me. I didn’t fucking know, I just wanted to talk to somebody, I just—Please, don’t be mad at me, Leon.

I was frustrated, I told her about the shirt, why I got mad at you—I didn’t think anything of it, I tell her everything so I didn’t think it would be—I mean, she was acting weird, I was gonna take the shirt to be dry-cleaned after you fucked it up, but she told me I looked fat in it and that’s so—Leon, that’s so weird of her to say, Claire would never say that to me and I was fucking thinking at the time, that’s so weird, she would never say anything like that to me—Shit, and she even said it weird, y’know? Like it hurt her to say it, and I fucking just left it in the back of my closet, I don’t know why, she just got in my head about it ‘cause she’d never say anything like that and I was so confused. Oh fuck. God. I really love you, Leon, like, a lot. Call me back, it’s urgent, please don’t do this to me.

The press conference is held two weeks later, and surprisingly, you don’t show your face or make a fuss. He thought you’d cause a riot, that you’d sell that blouse for millions, get it DNA tested, ruin his life in a few seconds. It might be shame or heartbreak, Leon doesn’t know.

He wipes his sweaty hands on his slacks. From beside him, Hunnigan gives him a slight nudge. “You call her a woman, not a girl, is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” he says, posed up in front of an American flag like a pinup girl, “I want you all to listen to me, I’m gonna say this again, I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” He’s distinctly handsome on your flatscreen TV.

This man is full of nothing but his own prick.

How could you be so stupid? You should’ve kept it strictly business, but of course, you wanted more, you always want more.

While you suppress the urge to cry, your mom places a hand on your shoulder. “No use crying over spilt milk, honey,” she hums, going back to her fashion magazine a moment later.

But it is, he ruined that blouse, and you love that blouse. Not to mention you’re a laughing stock. You’re not the First Lady, you’re just some crazy bitch who lied about fucking the President.

It’s not fair, he gets to come away with everything intact, you’re the one who loses everything. Your internship, Claire, respect, everything. It’s all coming undone. All that dick you sucked landed you nowhere, and he—He just gets off scot-free.

You need to take him down.

Leon was smart enough to leave no evidence, he rarely messaged, he only called and call logs alone are never enough to prove anything. You’ve got all those gifts, but that means nothing to anyone, you can’t prove who got them.

Oh.

What got you in this mess in the first place is bound to get you out of it.

You ask Daddy to get you a good lawyer and you open up your case against Leon Scott Kennedy. DNA testing is on your side, the results tell the nation that it is in fact his American seed on your blouse and that their President is a sex fiend who likes to break young girls with bright dreams and promising futures.

Which, of course, isn’t true, you knew what you were getting into, but you’d happily lie to get the last word. To wipe the smile off his smug fucking face. You still want to fuck him, you still like him a lot. He sticks to you in an unpleasant way, like his cum.

“He’s on TV again,” your sister lets you know, and you lift your head from a court document to watch your ex-boyfriend fumble his way through a thorough grilling.

Leon dodges questions well, but you can tell he’s getting nervous. His fingers twitch and his blinking becomes more rapid. “Uh, what qualifies as sexual relations?” He tries to throw them off with his stupidly hot smile, his dimples and white teeth and pretty eyes when he knows damn well that being balls deep in your pussy is a sexual fucking relation.

“She wanted me,” he says finally, and Hunnigan closes her eyes like she knows it’s over, running her hand over her face as Leon undoes a lifetime of her work, “she wanted me, who was I to say no—As an American man, it’s my duty to listen to our women.”

Oh, he’s so fucking screwed. Why did you fuck such an idiot? You should’ve gone for an actor instead.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

President Leon S. Kennedy

July 19, 2024.

KENNEDY:

Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans, good evening.

Today, I’m standing here to take complete responsibility for all my actions, public and private. I’m here to admit to a personal failing, an indiscretion, that has hurt my family, colleagues, and the American people.

It is with great regret that I admit to having an extramarital affair with [REDACTED]. This was a serious lapse in my judgement and a personal failure, one that has brought endless pain to those around me, it was never my intention to disappoint the ones I hold so dear.

As I told the grand jury today, at no time did I ask for evidence to be destroyed or hidden, at no time did I ask anyone to lie for my wrongdoings. This is not a moment for excuses or justification, my actions were wrong, plain and simple. I misled both the nation and my wife with my previous statements, I understand that it gave a false impression to those around me, and to those who trust me. I deeply regret that.

My actions have caused the nation pain and needless embarrassment, and for that, I am truly sorry.

I had concerns for my family and protecting their privacy, the independent counsel investigation moved onto staff, family members, friends of mine and it has gone on for too long.

Our country has been distracted by this matter for too long, and I committed to taking full responsibility for this transgression. Once again, I apologise and aim to reclaim my private life for my wife, friends and colleagues. It’s nobody’s business but ours.

I humbly ask for your understanding and patience as I strive to earn back the trust of my fellow people, of our God, and of those around me.

Our nation faces significant challenges that require my full dedication, I ask for us to turn away from this spectacle, to move forward to come together and focus on the tasks ahead, to remain united in our efforts to build a better tomorrow.

Thank you for watching. God bless America. And good night.

[downbadf0rficppl]

happy birthday

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve's deep in a lie. One that he won't be able to recover from. What happens when he finds out you know the truth.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, and fluff of course. Brat Tamer!Steve, Oral (M Receiving),

AN: Based on a headcanon I read at some point where Bucky threatens to reveal when Steve's real birthday is - I don't think I ever laughed harder! Hope you guys all enjoy! LYYYYYYYYY

"Hey, Cap," You called to him, walking over as he filed out of the briefing room. He looked up at you and smiled - lifting his hand up to wave. He looked at you suspiciously - your hands were hidden behind your back, clearly holding something.

"Whatcha got for me?" He smirked, "Hopefully not more files?" He added with a slight groan.

"Not at all. Just a little something," You showed him the box, "for your birthday."

Steve chuckled awkwardly, "Thanks sweetheart, but it's not my birthday for a while yet? It's December 12th?"

You smirked evilly, "Ahh but Captain, I discovered something quite interesting the other day. There was a collection of old SSR files found in an old crate and I had the pleasure of having to catalogue it. Most of it was boring but there was a file that caught my eye," Steve's eyes widened, but you continued, "The file of one 'Steven Grant Rogers'. And it surprised me to discover that the great Captain America is a-"

You were cut off by Steve slamming his hand down over your mouth. He looked around wildly, hoping that no one heard, before dragging you outside.

"Where did you find that file?"

"So it's true! Ha!"

"I'm not messing around, sweetheart. Who else knows?"

"No one. For now."

Steve stalked up to you, finger pointed at your chest, "You best keep your mouth shut, sweetheart."

"Or what, Captain, what are you gonna do?" You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Fuck around and find out."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Captain."

"Shut your mouth," He growled, his pupils blown with lust.

"Make me."

You barely made it back to his room before he slotted his lips over yours, hands grasping your face gently. You gasped into his mouth, his nose bumping yours as he pushed you through the door of his apartment.

"Jump," he mumbled against your mouth and you obliged. His hands gripped your thighs as they wrapped around his waist and he nudged the door shut with his toe. All without ever breaking the contact between your lips.

He carried you into the bedroom and dropped you in the center of his bed. He looked down at you like a lion looks at a gazelle, lust-blown eyes raking over your body.

"Just here to stare, Captain? All bark, no bite." It probably wasn't a good idea to provoke the beast, but you were having slightly too much fun watching Captain 'I-never-have-a-hair-out-of-place' Rogers lose his temper.

Steve shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're such a fucking brat," he muttered, a hand dropping to his belt. Your eyes followed his hand, raking over his unfortunately-still-clothed body. "You know what brats like you need? You need to be taught a lesson."

You almost let out a whimper, your cunt pulsing with need. Steve pulled off his shirt and his belt and dropped them on the floor unceremoniously. He climbed over you and crawled over you, his large body pinning you to the mattress.

He laid hands on the top button of your shirt before looking up at you for consent. "Please, Steve."

"See, that wasn't so hard." He began unbuttoning your shirt, laying gentle kisses in his wake. Once it was unbuttoned, he pushed it down your arms and tossed it onto the floor. He unbuttoned your trousers in the same way before pulling them off your legs and tossing them by your shirt.

His eyes raked over your semi-naked form, slowly appreciating every curve and dimple on your body. You smiled shyly - the weight of his gaze was heavy, heavy with adoration.

He flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your hips against his crotch. You could feel the bulge straining in his pants and you let out a moan as it brushed against your sensitive clit.

"Someone's sensitive," Steve said, the smirk evident in his voice.

"Someone's taking a long time to fuck me. Maybe I'll find some other agent to finish the jo-"

Slap. You jolted as Steve laid a hard slap against your ass. Your surprise melted into arousal and you let out another moan. You pushed back against him, letting him know you wanted more.

"You're mine," Steve growled, continuing to slap your ass, alternating between cheeks and pressures, "Mine to tame, mine to fuck. Get it, only mine."

You moaned in response - an enthusiastic yes.

"God, I can smell how wet you are, sweetheart. You like it when I slap you, huh? You like it when I get rough?" You nodded your head, pushing back into Steve again. You hear him chuckle and move away. You whine at the loss of touch, "Cockdrunk already, pretty baby? I haven't even touched you yet."

You heard Steve's zipper and the sound of jeans landing on the floor. You turned to look at him and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Impressed, baby?" Even through his boxers, Steve's bulge was impressive. Steve was a well-endowed man and he knew it. "Now come over here and show me how much you want this cock."

You climbed off the bed and sank to the floor in front of him. Your knees hit the solid cold floor and you were now at eye level with his cock. Steve's eyes went wide - clearly, he hadn't been expecting you to do that.

"May I, Captain?" You said, your fingers playing on the waistband of his boxers.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart." Steve threw his head back as you pushed his boxers down. He was big. Bigger than you’ve had before. Your mouth watered at his size and you leaned forward to give the tip of his cock a little kiss.

Smirking at the way Steve groaned as his cock twitched, you wrapped your hand around his girth and started pumping. Steve threw his head back, his hands finding your hair and making a makeshift ponytail.

Your tongue swiped over the tip of his cock, collecting the pre-cum on your tongue. You took his tip in your mouth, hands still languidly stroking the base of his cock. Your left hand traveled down to play with his balls, gently massaging them. It was music to your ears the way he choked out your name from your actions.

You took him further down your throat, pulling away when you started to gag. You tried again, trying to go further.

"Breathe through your nose sweetheart, that's it," Steve said as you took further down your throat. Your tongue ran over the large vein on the underside of his cock, massaging it as Steve threw his head back in ecstasy. "Fuck, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you if you don't slow down."

You smiled, as you pulled away from his cock. "Don’t be afraid to do what you want, Cap." You hummed, "I can handle it."

Steve wrapped your hair around his fist, before guiding your face back down to suck on his cock. He pushed your head all the way down so that your nose was brushing against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock. You gagged around his length and the pressure made Steve let out a loud groan.

"Fuck, just like that, baby, yes," pressure began to build up in his stomach, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "Keep going baby, don't stop."

Your hand moved back up to his balls, rolling them between your fingers as you kept sucking. The action made his hips stutter, the groan of your name practically coming out as a growl. "I’m not going to last," he choked out, pulling you off his cock and up to standing again.

Your knees felt stiff after so much time on the cold, hardwood floor, that you winced at the sudden movement. Steve caught it.

"Next time, you're using a pillow." You smiled at the thought of a nest time.

He pushed you back on the bed, his mouth latching back onto yours as he kneeled in front of you.

"Can I?" He looked up at you, his beautiful blue eyes shining brightly. His fingers traced the waistline of your underwear, fingers hooking the sides to pull them down,

You frantically nodded yes, and they were gone a second later, your bra following soon after. Steve lifted you up and threw you onto the middle of the bed, his eyes ravenously traveling to your sopping wet cunt. You moaned at the show of strength.

"You like that? Being manhandled like a slut?" You moaned in affirmation.

You gasped at the feeling of Steve's tongue on your pussy. He licked a long, flat stripe up to your clit, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled him up.

"As much as I would love for you to eat me out. I need your cock. In me. Right now."

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart."

You saw him grab a silver foil packet from his nightstand and he ripped it open with his teeth. You watched as Steve rolled the condom down his cock, the cock that was just in your mouth.

"See something you like?" Steve smirked as he caught you staring.

You blushed, "I see a lot that I like," you replied honestly.

Steve's face broke into a huge childish grin and he pulled you closer to him, "Good." That was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. He moaned loudly, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed him.

You gasped, trying to adjust to his size, "S'big, Stevie. 'S so big hmmm, 'm all - ah - full." you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words.

"Yeah, sweetheart? God, you're so tight. Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use."

Tears slipped down your face as you tried to adjust to the stretch. He was so big you could feel him everywhere, with every shift of your body, with every breath you took. Steve took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears, "Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe, yeah?" You nodded, taking a shuddery breath. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, "You tell me if it gets too much." 

"I need you to move," you whispered. Steve slowly, pulled out and slowly pushed back in. And then again. And then again. Each time he got closer to bottoming out inside of you and you moaned as he pushed further and further.

Eventually, he picked up the pace, falling into a steady rhythm. A steady stream of moans left your lips. He brushed past your G-spot and you swore you saw stars. You were begging for more.

His hips began to snap into you, cock drilling into you so fast that you had fallen silent, mouth stuck in an 'O' shape. The praises falling from Steve's lips were lost on you as the pressure built up in your stomach.

"Steve, 'm not gonna last, Steve, please, 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna - oh my GOD, 'M GONNA CUM, AHHH-" You fell apart all over Steve's cock as he kept up this brutal pace.

Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud moan of your name before collapsing beside you. You smiled up at him through your post-orgasmic haze, turning to nestle into his arms. He chuckled, laying a light kiss on your forehead, "I have to go take care of this, give me a second."

He laughed as you shook your head, desperately clinging to him tighter. He unraveled himself from you and quickly disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom.

Your eyes drifted shut as you waited for him, only to be forced open by something cool touching your inner thigh. You snapped your legs shut, only to find that Steve was holding a wet towel. "Just cleaning you up, sweetheart."

As soon as he was done, Steve pulled one of his t-shirts over your body and bundled you into his arms. At your disapproving grunt, he chuckled.

"Need to put some food in my best girl." He said, placing another kiss on your forehead.

"And then snuggles?" You asked, hopefully.

Steve smiled, "Yeah, sweetheart, then snuggles." He put you down on the cold island in the middle of the kitchen of his apartment and turned around to grab some fruit from the fridge.

The doorbell rang. Steve looked at the door and then the clock on the wall. He clearly wasn't expecting anyone. Both of you stood unmoving - you didn't know exactly what the nature of your relationship was. If it was someone you worked with - which of course it would be - you didn't want to be forced to go public.

Whoever it was was insistent. They banged on the door. "Hey, Punk, open the door." Steve let out a sigh of relief - it was Bucky, his best childhood friend. And also one of the best secret keepers in the compound.

Steve opened the door as you reached over to grab a strawberry. "What do you want, Jerk?" The door opened to Bucky mischievously smiling at Steve. Clearly, the fact that Steve was half-naked didn't bother him.

"Did you forget what today is?"

Steve's face blanched again.

"Happy Birthday, Punk!" Steve tackled a smirking Bucky to the ground. The sight made you burst into laughter, a strawberry held up to your mouth.

The sound made Steve look over at you. The sight of you sitting on his counter in his t-shirt, eating his strawberries made his heart jump. If this was how he got to spend the rest of his birthdays, he'd be a happy man indeed. Even if he had to put up with all your teasing.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[sunshineandspencer]

Cowboy hat rule (Tyler Owens, Twisters)

A/N: Take a guess, what movie do you think I watched recently? I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t Deadpool and Wolverine (I also watched that, but I preferred the man with the swirly winds).

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader.

Summary: In between butting heads with Javi’s team and running a successful YouTube channel based entirely around tornadoes, Tyler Owens is introduced to the most interesting woman he’s seen in a good while - and her sister.

Word Count: 521

Warnings: fluff, kind of suggestive (cowboy hat rule), drinking and minor worries of drink being spiked but it doesn't happen we’re all okay here, very limited knowledge of America (I’m English).

Parts: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

How she ended up drinking with them, she had no idea. But anything was better than dealing with her sister pretending not to make goo-goo eyes at Javi.

Now, she’s up on the top of Tyler’s truck, drinking a shit beer with a peeling label and questioning whether or not these people would drug her. 

The bloke with the camera seems alright, and the tornado wrangler was more focused on whatever he’s messing with than her. 

One of the girls, Lily- maybe, tapped her legs, grinning up at her. 

“So~ which part of New York are you from?”

Maybe the beer is drugged, maybe it’s turning her senses to mush. Or maybe it’s been too long since she had piss-poor beer and decent company.

“Alpine.”

Lily - again, maybe - blinked up at her and then laughed, standing up on the side of the truck to smack the side of her thigh playfully.

Not only that, but Mr Tall, Plaid and Dangerous finally looked up. 

“Come on— even I know that’s in Texas.”

“And that’s where I’m from, Alpine, Texas. I hide the twang, I’ve been too many guy’s fantasies in bars that it’s just easier.”

Giving a wink before swigging the last of her beer. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she leant back on her forearms, making sure she didn’t lie back on anything. 

Tyler was grinning at her, that stupid grin that pairs a little too well with that cowboy hat for her fuzzy brain to think straight. 

“Not a city girl?”

“Uh huh, daddy ran a ranch, grew up schooling cowboys like you. You’re no different.”

He seemed impressed by that; maybe not impressed. Just marginally more interested now he knows they aren’t a pair of bored blonde women from the city come to chase the storms with the fancy company. 

Nothing worse than someone who doesn’t actually respect the weather they’re chasing - that’s how people die. 

“Me? How am I no different then, Alpine?”

Humming, she passed him her empty bottle, which he took without questioning it. Eyes somehow glittering beneath the brim of that hat. 

She needs that hat, before his eyes, his smile and his goddamn cologne do her in.

“You steal something near and dear to them- make them pay real close attention to you.”

Managing to swipe the hat from his head and place it firmly on her own, fighting the smug grin on her face. 

She knows that he knows that she knows exactly what that means.

Can’t claim ignorance now, she made it loud and clear that this is not her first rodeo. He may wrangle tornadoes, but what the hell is he supposed to do when a gorgeous woman steals his hat and pushes away. 

Getting Lily to help her down and then swinging an arm over her shoulders. 

“Let’s go find more beers, Lils, I love your shirt by the way.”

Turning back around to grin at him as Lily starts talking. Flicking the brim of the cap up so that he could see the way her eyebrow raised in challenge. 

Oh yeah, he definitely has a favourite sister now.

Want more?! Good!

[jjkilll]

the one where you hate to admit it but jk is right

- pairing I debate captain jk x co-cap y/n

- warning I smut, fingering

- song I you right - doja cat

- wc | 1.4K

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

you were co-captain of your university’s debate team. you hated your captain jungkook. he was a know-it-all and you honestly thought you’d be the captain. you thought you deserved it. his mother was the dean of the university so naturally your brain to nepotism.

he was smart and funny, extremely handsome but you’d never admit it to his face. it’d make his head swell. you always found him attractive but that know-it-all attitude had you ready to swing.

he’d always find a way to correct you or use your statements to try and make a better point than yours. you hated it, you almost hated him. the humor, tattoos, biceps, and glasses saved him.

you were at his house going over the points for your upcoming debate.

“okay, but the scarcity of fresh water is insane.” you start explaining. “nearly 1.1 billion people don’t have fresh, safe, and drinkable water.” you finish.

“i understand but 1.1 billion doesn’t even make up half of the population of the world. it doesn’t even make up america’s population. so to say that majority of the world doesn’t have access to clean water is a stretch.” he states matter of factly.

“i just mean in most of most of mexico, and several in africa and europe struggle to find clean water.” you try not to get frustrated with him and try to explain your point further.

“then say that. don’t use such general words. state facts and only facts.” you sigh at his words.

“you are so fucking annoying, my god.” you snap, almost instantly regretting saying anything. he chuckles.

“i’m annoying? do you know how annoying it is to correct you all the time?” he spits. “your a smart girl so for the life of me i can’t even begin to understand your idiocracy.”

“idiocracy? seriously how are you calling me smart and stupid at the same time.”

“i mean i am the captain,” he says with a smirk.

“that doesn’t make you smarter than me, dumbass. that’s just a classic take on nepotism.”

“oh… low blow,” he says with a huff.

“you always think you’re so fucking smart and you always have to be right. i don’t get you.”

“awe, you love me.” he smiles putting his hand over his chest.

“you’re a dick,” you say.

“yea yea, go on to your next point miss generalization,” he mumbles before standing and taking his hoodie off. his shirt rides up with it and you see his body.

holy fuck was he smoking hot. his happy trail had you ready to tie your hair up. you didn’t realize you were ogling him until he cleared his throat.

“maybe you’d make a clear point if you stop staring at me.” he says flopping back down your sofa. “i wasn’t staring at you.” you lie.

“sure,” he says simply.

“you are so haughty.” you scoff, he chuckles. “awe that’s a big word for elmo.” he jokes.

“you know what?” you say slamming your notecards on the table. “what?” he stands walking over to you. “i hate you and your fucking attitude. i hate how dense but somehow detailed you are. i hate when you correct me and make me feel like im an idiot in front of everyone. and what i hate the most…” you start but stop.

“what? tell me, please baby… i’m dying to know.” his nickname catches you off guard. he was so hot being all condescending, you were conflicted. he scoffed at your silence.

“you know what i think? i think…” he starts closing the space between you. “i think the only reason you hate me so bad, is cause you wanna fuck me.” you scoff rolling your eyes. “oh you’ve lost your everlasting mind.” you speak trying not to be shocked at his vulgar choice of words.

“i get in your head, but you can’t help but be attracted to me. it’s so clear that you want me. all of this is unnecessary, you could’ve just asked.” he smirks.

“i hate you.” you spit getting ready to walk away but he grabs your hand pulling you in. you’re chest to chest, “say it again.” he asks. you look up at him, god he’s so fucking sexy. “you usually never shut up and now you don’t have a thing to say. funny. i love the effect i have on you. i make you lose your mind.” you look so little next to him, you hate how needy you feel. you want him so bad.

he holds your face in his hand stocking your cheek with his thumb. he smiles brushing his thumb over your lips. “say you want me.” he whispers. you are absolutely soaked, if he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode. “please.” you whine. “please what?”

he rests his thumb on your lip and you open your mouth and suck on his finger. “ohhh so such a sweet girl. tell me what you want.” he coos.

“please touch me.” you squeak. “awe such good manners,” he says before kissing you deeply. you stumble backward onto the wall. your tongues dance together and he explores your mouth.

“you’re such a good kisser, your lips are so pretty,” he says breaking the kiss but quickly kissing you again.

you grind against him needfully, “awe you are so cute. so needy for me. i love seeing you like this.” you whine craving him. “please just touch me.” he smiles unbuttoning your shorts before kissing your neck.

he slides his hand down your shorts and starts rubbing your clit. you moan but he’s quick when kissing you. you moan into his mouth. “god i’m fucking obsessed with you.” he says breaking the kiss, “all that shit talk but i have you crumbling under me.” he kisses your lips again before plunging a finger inside of you.

“oh shit!” you moan grinding against his hand for more friction. you lean your head back trying to slow your breathing and not be so worked up. you fail, as your breathing is heavy and the pleasure is unfathomable. let out a string of curses before he speaks, “you’re so tight, baby. it’s only one finger. my dick is gonna stretch your little pussy out.” he starts to quicken his pace you are slowly losing your mind. you’re so close you can barely breathe. “please- please make me cum.” you plead.

“beg for it,” he replied quickly. he loved watching you fall apart on his fingers. the little quick-witted sarcastic girl he knew minutes away was long gone. you didn’t want to beg, but you were so desperate and so so close.

“please make me cum jungkook. please ill do anything.” you don’t even recognize your voice, so whiny and pathetic. “open your mouth.” you obey quickly and he spits in your mouth his fingers fucking you faster. “oh my god please.” you repeat like it’s your mantra.

“cum for me, baby. cum on my fingers, let me taste.” his words along with his fingers make you fall apart, your moans are pathetic and squeaky. you grind against him as you cum. he pulls his finger out, covered in you. he looks at you, your eyes low and you look fucked out. he sucks your cum off his finger and smiles.

“guess i was right.” he says kissing you so you could taste yourself. “mm, you taste so sweet.”

your legs are weak from how hard you came.

“i correct you because i believe in you. you are constantly on the right path you just need to delve deeper, you speak so generally, they’ll kick our ass if we don’t come up with facts,” he speaks.

“stop talking about the fucking debate,” you say trying to catch your breath. he laughs grabs your hand, and walks you over to the couch. you plop beside him shorts still unbuttoned. you lay back and he starts to button your shorts but you stop him, noticing the tent in his pants.

“nuh-huh, i want you to fuck me…rough.” you say looking up at him. “ooh, what happened to your manners?” he smirks. “shut up and fuck me,” you say, and he raises his brow. “please?” you add.

“absolutely, baby.” he smiles

“wait so i really was right?” he asks excitedly. “hurry before i change my mind.” you roll your eyes leaning your head back. “cute but we both know you won’t.” he kisses you.

“now come ride this dick, pretty girl.”

——-—-—-—-✫-—--—-—-——

[shitsndgiggs]

Can you write a fic for Hector's birthday where reader flies over to america to surprise him considering he is away on tour with barca rn? Ik his birthday was a couple of days ago 😭

HAPPY BIRTHDAY - HÉCTOR FORT

Surprising Héctor for his birthday

Héctor Fort x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Barcelona’s preseason tour in the U.S. was well underway, and while the team was focused on preparing for the upcoming season, there was one special occasion that couldn’t be overlooked—Hector’s birthday.

I knew how much he loved his birthday, but with the team overseas, I worried he might feel a bit lonely celebrating without his usual group of friends and family. That’s when the idea hit me: I’d fly to America and surprise him.

After a few weeks of secretive planning with some of his teammates, I finally landed in the States, excitement bubbling inside me.

I knew Hector had no clue what was about to happen, and I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

The day of his birthday, the team had planned a small celebration after their morning training session. I was hidden away in a separate room at the hotel, waiting anxiously for the right moment to appear.

In the team’s dining room, Hector was completely unaware of what was in store.

As he finished his post-training shower and headed to the dining area, his teammates were already gathered around, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, birthday boy!” Frankie shouted as Hector entered the room.

The entire squad erupted in cheers and applause, making Hector chuckle and shake his head.

“Thanks, guys,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in the sight of a cake waiting on the table, covered in bright candles and decorated with the colors of Barcelona.

“Happy birthday, mate!” Lamine, one of his closest friends on the team said, clapping Hector on the back.

They gathered around as the team’s chef lit the candles, and everyone began to sing “Happy Birthday” at the top of their lungs. Hector stood there, taking it all in, his heart swelling with gratitude for the people around him.

After he blew out the candles, the team began to hand him small gifts they had picked up during their time in the States—a cap from New York, a quirky t-shirt, and a few other trinkets. Hector thanked each of them, laughing at some of the more humorous gifts.

As the laughter died down, Pedri cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “Hector,” he said with a mischievous grin, “we’ve got one more gift for you. We know it’s something you really want.”

Hector raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

The teammate glanced over his shoulder toward the door, where I was waiting just out of sight. “Come on in,” he called, giving me the signal.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the room, my heart pounding with anticipation. The room fell silent for a split second as everyone watched Hector’s reaction.

He turned to see me standing there, and for a moment, he looked completely stunned. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slightly as he registered that I was actually there, in America, for his birthday.

“Y/N?” he said, disbelief and excitement mixing in his voice.

“Happy birthday, Hector,” I said, grinning widely as I crossed the room to him.

In an instant, he closed the distance between us, wrapping me in a tight embrace. The room filled with cheers and applause again, but all I could focus on was the feeling of Hector’s arms around me, holding me as if he never wanted to let go.

“You’re really here,” he murmured into my hair, his voice tinged with emotion.

“Of course I’m here,” I replied, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I couldn’t miss your birthday, could I?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is the best surprise ever. I can’t believe you did this.”

I smiled up at him, my heart swelling with affection. “Well, I had some help from your teammates,” I admitted, glancing around at the guys who were watching us with amused expressions.

Hector chuckled, finally letting me go but keeping one arm around my waist. “Thank you,” he said, addressing the room. “Seriously, this is amazing.”

One of the players grinned and gave a thumbs-up. “We knew she’d be the best gift. Figured you could use a little extra love today.”

Hector looked back at me, his eyes softening. “They were right,” he said quietly. “You’re the best gift I could’ve asked for.”

The team gave us a moment, drifting away to give us some privacy as they continued to enjoy the cake and the rest of the celebration. Hector turned his full attention to me, a smile still playing on his lips.

“So, how long are you staying?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

“I’m here for the rest of the tour,” I replied, watching as his face lit up with joy. “I thought we could spend some time together, you know, exploring the States when you’re not training.”

He pulled me closer, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to my lips. “That sounds perfect. I’m so happy you’re here.”

I smiled, resting my head against his chest. “Happy birthday, Hector.”

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Happy Birthday

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve's deep in a lie. One that he won't be able to recover from. What happens when he finds out you know the truth.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, and fluff of course. Brat Tamer!Steve, Oral (M Receiving),

AN: Based on a headcanon I read at some point where Bucky threatens to reveal when Steve's real birthday is - I don't think I ever laughed harder! Hope you guys all enjoy! LYYYYYYYYY

"Hey, Cap," You called to him, walking over as he filed out of the briefing room. He looked up at you and smiled - lifting his hand up to wave. He looked at you suspiciously - your hands were hidden behind your back, clearly holding something.

"Whatcha got for me?" He smirked, "Hopefully not more files?" He added with a slight groan.

"Not at all. Just a little something," You showed him the box, "for your birthday."

Steve chuckled awkwardly, "Thanks sweetheart, but it's not my birthday for a while yet? It's December 12th?"

You smirked evilly, "Ahh but Captain, I discovered something quite interesting the other day. There was a collection of old SSR files found in an old crate and I had the pleasure of having to catalogue it. Most of it was boring but there was a file that caught my eye," Steve's eyes widened, but you continued, "The file of one 'Steven Grant Rogers'. And it surprised me to discover that the great Captain America is a-"

You were cut off by Steve slamming his hand down over your mouth. He looked around wildly, hoping that no one heard, before dragging you outside.

"Where did you find that file?"

"So it's true! Ha!"

"I'm not messing around, sweetheart. Who else knows?"

"No one. For now."

Steve stalked up to you, finger pointed at your chest, "You best keep your mouth shut, sweetheart."

"Or what, Captain, what are you gonna do?" You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Fuck around and find out."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Captain."

"Shut your mouth," He growled, his pupils blown with lust.

"Make me."

You barely made it back to his room before he slotted his lips over yours, hands grasping your face gently. You gasped into his mouth, his nose bumping yours as he pushed you through the door of his apartment.

"Jump," he mumbled against your mouth and you obliged. His hands gripped your thighs as they wrapped around his waist and he nudged the door shut with his toe. All without ever breaking the contact between your lips.

He carried you into the bedroom and dropped you in the center of his bed. He looked down at you like a lion looks at a gazelle, lust-blown eyes raking over your body.

"Just here to stare, Captain? All bark, no bite." It probably wasn't a good idea to provoke the beast, but you were having slightly too much fun watching Captain 'I-never-have-a-hair-out-of-place' Rogers lose his temper.

Steve shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're such a fucking brat," he muttered, a hand dropping to his belt. Your eyes followed his hand, raking over his unfortunately-still-clothed body. "You know what brats like you need? You need to be taught a lesson."

You almost let out a whimper, your cunt pulsing with need. Steve pulled off his shirt and his belt and dropped them on the floor unceremoniously. He climbed over you and crawled over you, his large body pinning you to the mattress.

He laid hands on the top button of your shirt before looking up at you for consent. "Please, Steve."

"See, that wasn't so hard." He began unbuttoning your shirt, laying gentle kisses in his wake. Once it was unbuttoned, he pushed it down your arms and tossed it onto the floor. He unbuttoned your trousers in the same way before pulling them off your legs and tossing them by your shirt.

His eyes raked over your semi-naked form, slowly appreciating every curve and dimple on your body. You smiled shyly - the weight of his gaze was heavy, heavy with adoration.

He flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your hips against his crotch. You could feel the bulge straining in his pants and you let out a moan as it brushed against your sensitive clit.

"Someone's sensitive," Steve said, the smirk evident in his voice.

"Someone's taking a long time to fuck me. Maybe I'll find some other agent to finish the jo-"

Slap. You jolted as Steve laid a hard slap against your ass. Your surprise melted into arousal and you let out another moan. You pushed back against him, letting him know you wanted more.

"You're mine," Steve growled, continuing to slap your ass, alternating between cheeks and pressures, "Mine to tame, mine to fuck. Get it, only mine."

You moaned in response - an enthusiastic yes.

"God, I can smell how wet you are, sweetheart. You like it when I slap you, huh? You like it when I get rough?" You nodded your head, pushing back into Steve again. You hear him chuckle and move away. You whine at the loss of touch, "Cockdrunk already, pretty baby? I haven't even touched you yet."

You heard Steve's zipper and the sound of jeans landing on the floor. You turned to look at him and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Impressed, baby?" Even through his boxers, Steve's bulge was impressive. Steve was a well-endowed man and he knew it. "Now come over here and show me how much you want this cock."

You climbed off the bed and sank to the floor in front of him. Your knees hit the solid cold floor and you were now at eye level with his cock. Steve's eyes went wide - clearly, he hadn't been expecting you to do that.

"May I, Captain?" You said, your fingers playing on the waistband of his boxers.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart." Steve threw his head back as you pushed his boxers down. He was big. Bigger than you’ve had before. Your mouth watered at his size and you leaned forward to give the tip of his cock a little kiss.

Smirking at the way Steve groaned as his cock twitched, you wrapped your hand around his girth and started pumping. Steve threw his head back, his hands finding your hair and making a makeshift ponytail.

Your tongue swiped over the tip of his cock, collecting the pre-cum on your tongue. You took his tip in your mouth, hands still languidly stroking the base of his cock. Your left hand traveled down to play with his balls, gently massaging them. It was music to your ears the way he choked out your name from your actions.

You took him further down your throat, pulling away when you started to gag. You tried again, trying to go further.

"Breathe through your nose sweetheart, that's it," Steve said as you took further down your throat. Your tongue ran over the large vein on the underside of his cock, massaging it as Steve threw his head back in ecstasy. "Fuck, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you if you don't slow down."

You smiled, as you pulled away from his cock. "Don’t be afraid to do what you want, Cap." You hummed, "I can handle it."

Steve wrapped your hair around his fist, before guiding your face back down to suck on his cock. He pushed your head all the way down so that your nose was brushing against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock. You gagged around his length and the pressure made Steve let out a loud groan.

"Fuck, just like that, baby, yes," pressure began to build up in his stomach, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "Keep going baby, don't stop."

Your hand moved back up to his balls, rolling them between your fingers as you kept sucking. The action made his hips stutter, the groan of your name practically coming out as a growl. "I’m not going to last," he choked out, pulling you off his cock and up to standing again.

Your knees felt stiff after so much time on the cold, hardwood floor, that you winced at the sudden movement. Steve caught it.

"Next time, you're using a pillow." You smiled at the thought of a nest time.

He pushed you back on the bed, his mouth latching back onto yours as he kneeled in front of you.

"Can I?" He looked up at you, his beautiful blue eyes shining brightly. His fingers traced the waistline of your underwear, fingers hooking the sides to pull them down,

You frantically nodded yes, and they were gone a second later, your bra following soon after. Steve lifted you up and threw you onto the middle of the bed, his eyes ravenously traveling to your sopping wet cunt. You moaned at the show of strength.

"You like that? Being manhandled like a slut?" You moaned in affirmation.

You gasped at the feeling of Steve's tongue on your pussy. He licked a long, flat stripe up to your clit, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled him up.

"As much as I would love for you to eat me out. I need your cock. In me. Right now."

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart."

You saw him grab a silver foil packet from his nightstand and he ripped it open with his teeth. You watched as Steve rolled the condom down his cock, the cock that was just in your mouth.

"See something you like?" Steve smirked as he caught you staring.

You blushed, "I see a lot that I like," you replied honestly.

Steve's face broke into a huge childish grin and he pulled you closer to him, "Good." That was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. He moaned loudly, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed him.

You gasped, trying to adjust to his size, "S'big, Stevie. 'S so big hmmm, 'm all - ah - full." you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words.

"Yeah, sweetheart? God, you're so tight. Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use."

Tears slipped down your face as you tried to adjust to the stretch. He was so big you could feel him everywhere, with every shift of your body, with every breath you took. Steve took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears, "Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe, yeah?" You nodded, taking a shuddery breath. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, "You tell me if it gets too much." 

"I need you to move," you whispered. Steve slowly, pulled out and slowly pushed back in. And then again. And then again. Each time he got closer to bottoming out inside of you and you moaned as he pushed further and further.

Eventually, he picked up the pace, falling into a steady rhythm. A steady stream of moans left your lips. He brushed past your G-spot and you swore you saw stars. You were begging for more.

His hips began to snap into you, cock drilling into you so fast that you had fallen silent, mouth stuck in an 'O' shape. The praises falling from Steve's lips were lost on you as the pressure built up in your stomach.

"Steve, 'm not gonna last, Steve, please, 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna - oh my GOD, 'M GONNA CUM, AHHH-" You fell apart all over Steve's cock as he kept up this brutal pace.

Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud moan of your name before collapsing beside you. You smiled up at him through your post-orgasmic haze, turning to nestle into his arms. He chuckled, laying a light kiss on your forehead, "I have to go take care of this, give me a second."

He laughed as you shook your head, desperately clinging to him tighter. He unraveled himself from you and quickly disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom.

Your eyes drifted shut as you waited for him, only to be forced open by something cool touching your inner thigh. You snapped your legs shut, only to find that Steve was holding a wet towel. "Just cleaning you up, sweetheart."

As soon as he was done, Steve pulled one of his t-shirts over your body and bundled you into his arms. At your disapproving grunt, he chuckled.

"Need to put some food in my best girl." He said, placing another kiss on your forehead.

"And then snuggles?" You asked, hopefully.

Steve smiled, "Yeah, sweetheart, then snuggles." He put you down on the cold island in the middle of the kitchen of his apartment and turned around to grab some fruit from the fridge.

The doorbell rang. Steve looked at the door and then the clock on the wall. He clearly wasn't expecting anyone. Both of you stood unmoving - you didn't know exactly what the nature of your relationship was. If it was someone you worked with - which of course it would be - you didn't want to be forced to go public.

Whoever it was was insistent. They banged on the door. "Hey, Punk, open the door." Steve let out a sigh of relief - it was Bucky, his best childhood friend. And also one of the best secret keepers in the compound.

Steve opened the door as you reached over to grab a strawberry. "What do you want, Jerk?" The door opened to Bucky mischievously smiling at Steve. Clearly, the fact that Steve was half-naked didn't bother him.

"Did you forget what today is?"

Steve's face blanched again.

"Happy Birthday, Punk!" Steve tackled a smirking Bucky to the ground. The sight made you burst into laughter, a strawberry held up to your mouth.

The sound made Steve look over at you. The sight of you sitting on his counter in his t-shirt, eating his strawberries made his heart jump. If this was how he got to spend the rest of his birthdays, he'd be a happy man indeed. Even if he had to put up with all your teasing.

fin.

[bucknastysbabe]

I knew at once, I knew he needed me

B. Barnes x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Canon-ish universe, friends to lovers, Bucky’s last trauma, flagsmashers debacle, TW: Bucks past non-con but no detail, blowjobs, fluff and smut, MAN TEARS, sexual dysfunction, Bucky Needs Orders, soft domme, Subby Bucky, Bucky is the sweetest sad meow meow who loves his girl, dry-humping, super-soldier loads amirite

Mood board under cut

Something about Bucky shifted when he went off on the Flag Smasher’s ordeal. You’d gotten a debrief back at HQ. No, you were not super powered. Simply a secretary who once upon a time was a SHIELD agent. But you’d got to know the reclusive former Winter Soldier bits and pieces at first.

Sam shoved him in charge of the Compound while he was dealing with things as the Falcon. Therefore you had to deal with a very surly one-hundred something man who had a staring problem and vocalized all of about 10 words— variants of no. You felt for the poor guy, he’s out of time, his best friend dipped off, and now the government owns him again.

You’d be tired and grumpy too.

But eventually your clipped conversations had turned into iPhone lessons along other modern world curiosities. The recruits were, safe to say, a bunch of jackasses and Bucky would come sit with you to have some coffee and mellow out as you typed. He’d grumble and rave, metal hand whining and whirring.

Then he asked you on a date.

Date turned to more dates.

More dates turned into ‘going steady’ and being ‘his best girl’. It was cotton candy sweet how kind and gentle he was. You knew there was a fear lingering he would hurt you on accident or go haywire. That somehow those words would come back— but they were gone.

You’d remind him sweetly with a squeeze of left inorganic hand and a peck on his pouty lips. He’d walk you back to your apartment and had been in there before for dinner, but was reluctant to stay the night. Reluctant to get anything but a little handsy while making out.

That was okay, he’d been through a lot. You didn’t mind, it was fun exploring with Bucky to find his sexuality, what felt good, what made him tick. Sometimes it could be frustrating but a vibe would do the trick until further notice.

On a miserable day Buck informed you he had to go with Sam on a mission. That mission turned into an entire ordeal, you keeping your head down and doing what you did. The Avenger’s secretary, oft dealing with the wonkiest of adventures under the guidance of Pepper.

Buck had left a message now and then, missing you dearly. The video of John Walker made you sick and worried to the point that Pep had you take the day off. The fact that Zemo was cavorting around with Sam and Bucky was it’s own nightmare.

You managed to reach Bucky on an encrypted line, begging for him to be safe. The soldier had chuckled blithely and replied, “I’m trying my best. No Zemo isn’t trying to kill me. That jackass Walker is going down though. Gonna’ get this under control and get back to you, sweet pea. I-,” he paused on the line, “I love you. I miss you too. Take care of yourself, gotta go okay?”

You blubbered back an ‘I love you’ and ate a pint of ice cream that night, wearing his shirt, watching that familiar face on the news. Hopefully they would get this Karli girl arrested and end any source of new serum. Put that asshole fake Cap away too.

It did. Sam emerging as the new Captain America, you jumping and cheering alone in the apartment with Alpine. Bucky was smirking in the back. You’d get to see him soon. He left a message he had to sort out one more thing before going home.

A little disappointed, you were glad Bucky went to help Sam’s family out. But you did have a job. On the bright side you could talk to your boyfriend every day. He seemed keen to get home, rambling about things he missed, things he remembered on the worldwide adventure. When Bucky would get off in his thoughts, his voice would get so soft and breathy, making your cheeks flush.

He groaned, “Soon babydoll, soon, I think I’m going to strap you to my side and we’ll catch up on all these movies from the journal.”

“I can’t wait.”

As stated before, there was a shift in Buck. Not bad. Something occurred though. And you couldn’t complain when he had you pinned to the couch, hands roving your body, breathing down your neck, “Oh god, missed you s’much, so damn cold most of the time.”

His toned thighs held yours spread out, hot length pressed to your core, only thin pairs of underwear as a barrier. Things were getting wet down there every rut of his hips. Bucky moaned in frustration, almost trying to bury himself in your skin.

Grabbing scruffy chin you refocused hazy eyes to you. Softly you murmured, “Slow down handsome. I’m not going anywhere. You okay?” Bucky blinked a bit and blushed, sheepishly apologizing with closed eyes, “I- baby- sorry. I don’t know either, jus’ want you. Life’s too short.”

You narrowed your eyes and prodded, “Don’t rush through something you’re not ready for yet.”

Bucky’s blues peered dead into your being this time as he swore, “Been living in fear since I got brought back. I know that I want you, and god it feels Fuckin’ good.” You kissed him passionately after that, tightening your thighs around trim waist.

Bucky hiccuped and heaved when he spilled all over your clothed cunt, sweetly begging for more. You scratched softly at his scalp, ushering the needy thing along. The brunette slid against his own spend and your slick panties, breath hitching. He whined, “S’good, s’good, wet, ff-fuck!”

You ended up spasming and cumming on Buck’s fourth orgasm, so goddamn slick between the pair of you now. He shook down to his toes, holding you tight as he mewled, “Oh god, oh god, fffucking hurts, can’t stop, baby y-ya feel s’good.”

Poor baby had milked himself dry after two more loads, gasping and making the prettiest little hitched noises. You’d led the pliant super soldier to the shower and tended to him, Buck was out to the park after all that intense sensation, hell, sensuality.

He’d softly thank you over and over again between apologies, until the big teddy fell asleep in your arms, puffing softly. Buck wouldn’t have a nightmare that night. Nor many another night after wearing himself out.

No penetration yet, but fucking close. He wasn’t quite ready for that. You knew he was in some sort of phase, spurred on by whatever occurred in Madripoor. He wouldn’t elaborate but said it made him want human touch again. He’d fess up when he was ready, because then you’d let the needy baby fuck.

Walking into your apartment with a sprawled Bucky red faced and teary made you wonder if he was ready. His cock was red and obscenely engorged, leaking copious precum, balls just as heavy looking. The soldier had pushed his briefs down and looked like he’d been at it for awhile based on the redness and his sweaty chest. You swallowed back some drool. Fuck.

“Honey? Bucky? What’s going on?”

A divine whimper graced your senses. His lashes were thick and clumped from tears. Bucky whined, “Need you, my h-hands, fuck!” He bit down on his lip roughly, obviously frustrated. Blood dribbled down Buck’s stubbled chin.

Dropping your stuff and bolting over to your lover had him barely relax, hiccuping a bit. You straddled his lap, careful not to irritate or stimulate too much. Grabbing his gorgeous face with two hands you stared calmly, as one would to a child coming down from a tantrum, “Baby. Need you to take a couple breaths and tell me what’s going on.”

His chest stuttered, breath thin, you instructing some box breathing, counting for Bucky. You could feel him relax underneath you, pulse lowering, that residual twitching dying down. Your lover blinked a couple of times, lips pulled into a frown.

Now gently scratching his scalp you tried again, “Can you tell me what’s going on sweetheart? Something happened in Madripoor. I want to help, I can help if you just talk baby boy.”

His gaze held your own, a gritting of his jaw and slow exhale. Bucky’s mismatched hands slid carefully up the tops of your thighs to grip your hips. The brunette rasped, “We did a ploy. I played…him..to get information we needed. Whole set up with Zemo trying to sell me. It reminded me of my,” he gulped, “other uses.”

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, no,” you rambled while pulling him in closer. Bucky eased back and shook his head, “You make it easier. I just…I..I have trouble doing anything without orders right now. I’ve been too- ugh fuck- embarrassed to say anything. But goddamn if I’m not horny all the time, it’s so twisted.” He tucked wet lashes against your neck, steadying his breathing.

You did some deductions in your head. Bucky had been sating any sort of carnal urges on his own. The little ploy had switched that button deep in Buck’s brain that he needed orders to cum. No wonder he’d been so needy, begging you for release, your lover had been in a mindfuck for two months.

You cooed, “Oh Buck, you can tell me anything, c’mon now. I’m not shaming you one bit. If we need to work through this we will.” Poor thing looked like he was going to cry again, nipping that swollen bottom lip. You shoved your thumb between those pretty lips and hummed, “Stop beating yourself up. I’m more than happy to order my handsome boy around.”

Bucky had instinctively opened to accept your digit, cheeks flaming harder than before. You softly pressed down on his tongue, the brunette drooling and jerking underneath you. The tension seemed to melt out of his body with this one authoritative action.

“Such a sweetheart, can’t help it, don’t worry, we’ll get you back in charge in no time. But just relax for now,” you swiped a tear away, “I’m not going to hurt a hair on your pretty head. Thank you for telling me.”

He whined around your thumb, more and more drool leaking onto a strong chest. You hummed, “I’m going to suck your cock.” It felt almost dirty but Bucky whimpering around your thumb was a relief, a gargled, “Pleaaaaseee.”

Sliding your thumb out of his puffy lips, Bucky made another pitiful noise at the loss. When your slick thumb swirled around his purpling cockhead the brunette shouted in surprise, hands gripping into the couch cushions.

“Going to suck your cock and you’re gonna love it, pretty boy,” you cooed, breathing over where he needed it most. A dollop of pre dribbled out, your tongue lapping it up gently. Buck’s thighs twitched and he moaned, throwing his head back. The cushion ripped on his left side.

You swirled your tongue around the bulbous tip, lapping on the underside just to hear him gasp your name. Popping off you rasped, “Grab my hair, you can move me to your pace.” He nodded disjointedly, flesh hand ever so carefully rerouting to your ponytail.

You began to bob down the length on him, other hand crawling up to caress and gently squeeze his hefty balls. Poor Buck, all backed up. He needed to cum bad. His voice came out as a thin whine, “Ohaaaahhh- wha- I’ve never.” You couldn’t help but smile at being his first.

Satisfaction that no one forcibly took this intimate act from him, not to mention you beat out likely someone’s great grandmother to suck the great Bucky Barnes’ dick. Licking and humming on a vein had your own throat stretching and slick, drool collecting around your obscenely stretched lips.

You fucking loved sucking cock. Especially such a big boy’s like Bucky’s. His hips jerked, forcing the blunt tip down your throat, you finally swallowing him down the best you could. Swallow swallow swallow, this was for your baby. Bucky’s built chest shuddered with his staccato breath, babbling, “So good baby s’good s’good, ohmyfuck.”

He whined again when you came up for air, drooling and heaving over that gorgeous prick. Bucky whimpered, “You look pretty, can I cum? Soon? Please?” You nodded, voice hoarse, “No more deep but I want you to fill my throat with all that cum. You have all the permission, actually, an order to cum.”

It didn’t take long of you humming and shallowly bobbing on his rapidly swelling cock for the first load to come. Bucky’s heavy balls contracted and drew tight under your palm, sending hot seed down your throat. You eagerly swallowed, sucking harder if anything. Bucky moaned and cried, squirming, legs sluttily spreading by the second climax.

You so desperately wanted to fuck around with that tender skin behind his balls but stuck to rolling and squeezing. You suckled on the crown, flicking tongue at the quickest speed, the poor thing warning with a sob, “Again!” He filled your mouth up this round, a fucking surprise, damn super soldiers. Dutifully gulping it again you slurped up excess drool and slowed the pace until Bucky was shying away, mewling.

Gently tucking him back in you wiped your mouth, laughing softly at the drool covering your blouse. God knows how wet your panties were. Bucky panted and hugged you oh-so-tight, warbling the cutest thanks. Wrapping back around Buck you curled the hair growing out around his ears and pressed little kisses to his cheeks.

“I’ve got you baby, we can do orders until you’re up to par. Feeling better?”

He rasped softly, “So much better, god, thank you.”

“No need, I love you. You know that. I’m quite satisfied I was the first to give you head.”

Pressing your lips to another stray tear he repeated it back, “Love you too, angel.” He smiled dopily, “The last too, that mouth works wonders.”

[kendallroydefender]

Cowboy take me away (Kayce Dutton x Roy!Reader) Chapter 1

Summary: You’re Y/n Roy the youngest daughter of one of the richest men in America but all that money can’t make you happy and you decide to move to Montana for a while. But what happens when you meet the youngest son of another influential man?

A/n: it’s here!!! This is mainly a Yellowstone fanfic and you don’t have to watch Sucession to follow along!

You stepped out of the car. The car you bought a week ago, when you were sure leaving was the right thing to do. The warm weather hitting your skin. Breathing in the fresh air after a long drive.

You were the daughter of one of the most influential men in the country. Your father, Logan Roy, was a media mogul and owned one of the biggest news networks in the world. But that came with a price, you had always been in the public eye and on top of that your father wasn’t an easy person to grow up with. Now you’re siblings still fought over being his favorite, still fought for his love. A few weeks ago, after thanksgiving where he hit your nephew you finally realized that he would never change.

So you’d made the decision to leave New York behind, to take a few months off in the country side. Hopefully your mental health would get better out here. And you’ve always wanted to visit Yellowstone after seeing pictures of the stunning landscape. To no one’s surprise your family wasn’t the biggest fans of your decision to go, especially your father who always wanted his kids close to control them. But you were a grown woman, yes you were still in your twenties but an adult nonetheless.

Your siblings thought the idea was ridiculous except for your oldest brother Connor who loved that you would follow his footsteps (as he said). He had also bought a ranch in New Mexico where he spent most of his days.

Now you weren’t so sure anymore if this decision was the right one. You had never left the city for more than a few weeks, hell you were a city person. And you had never been alone anywhere. Your family and they’re staff or your personal staff were with you. But if you’d never tried you would never know.

You took your suitcases and brought the to the small house you were renting. You had put all your clothes into the closets and your toiletries in the bathroom before you went into the small garden behind the house. It was well kept, a bit whimsical and overgrown in some places but beautiful nonetheless. A set of chairs on the lawn and a swingseat under a tree. Yeah, you could do with this.

You made some food with the groceries you picked up on the way here and ate your dinner on the couch. Everything was nice until the evening arrived.

You should have seen it coming, It was your first night and you were already bored. 'Off to a great start' you thought to yourself.

After a quick google search you made your way to one of the bars in town.

Inside it was quite crowded. A band played country music and some people danced. You went to the counter and ordered a simple drink, nothing too fancy like you would have ordered in New York.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, it were mostly cowboys and cowgirls. You must have stood out quite a bit - not too much though since you’ve left your fancier Roy clothing in New York, taking only sweaters, shirts and jeans with you. It was nice though.

”Hey, Tom have you seen my sister?.“ a voice next to you said. You looked to your right and spotted a quite handsome man. He seemed to be around your age maybe a little older, with longish brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a trucker cap backwards on his head and a dark shirt. He looked rugged in the best way. His eyes landed on you and you quickly averted your eyes even though it was probably too late - he had caught you staring.

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment and you waited a second before you looked back at him.

”'ve never seen you around here.“ he said

”Just got here today“ you told him with a shrug and a smirk appeared on his face hearing that you didn���t sounded like you were from Montana at all.

”Where’re you’re from?“ He asked

”Uh, New York.“ You said and he let out a low blow

”She’s over there.“ the barkeeper interrupted your conversation, pointing his finger in one direction

”Uh-huh. Thanks Tom.“ the man said before he turned to you again

”I’ll have to go but have fun in Montana.“ he said before he turned to leave. After a few steps he turned his head and your eyes met again, with a small nod he turned around once more.

You would lie if you said you weren’t disappointed by him having to leave so quickly. But it seemed like he was just here to pick his sister up anyway and you didn’t even knew if he was single.

The next few days you spend getting settled into the new house. You went to the grocery store, something you haven’t done in years since your family always had people to do these kind of things. But you liked it. Liked being responsible for yourself and you liked being able to meet and converse with others.

Your family always stayed in their circle, almost every meeting with someone you didn’t knew was business related and talk was always about work.

You took walks around town and enjoyed the scenery.

Today you had planned to go on a hike. You looked up the route beforehand so you wouldn’t end up lost. There were other people on a hike but not too many.

Everything was going well. That is until you must have stepped onto a stone.

You fell and felt a sharp pain shooting through your ankle. Shit, if this wasn’t the biggest city girl hurts herself while hiking was the biggest prejudice.

You started to get up when you heard the sound of a horse walking close to you. You looked up as the animal came into your view and felt yourself getting warm. Of course it was the hot Cowboy from the other night.

”You alright?“ He asked and you shrugged

”Yeah, I just sit in the dirt for fun.“

”Shit no reason to get all fuss .“ He said but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He got down from his horse and tied it on a nearby tree.

”Lemme see.“ his voice had softened as he crouched down next to you, carefully taking your foot in his hands. Twisting it gently and putting some pressure on some spots. At one point you let out an ”Ouch.“

”It’s not broken - just twisted. Come on let me bring you down.“ he offered his hand to you and you gladly took it. He helped you up, looping his arm around your back so you could lean on him.

Once you were sitting on the horse he got up too, sitting in front of you.

”You can hold onto me.“ he told you, voice kinder than you’d expected.

You intertwined your fingers in front of his stomach. You felt warmth spread in your stomach.

He took the reins and the horse started moving. You looked around, taking in the scenery.

”Wow it’s even more beautiful up here.“ you said in a low tone.

Kayce smiled at your words. To be honest he was maybe a little glad about the fact that it was you who he found. You had come to his mind a few times since he’d met you a few days ago.

You had intrigued him, there was an air about you that he liked and felt like he wanted to find out more about you.

”Where are we going by the way? Not that I think you’ll kidnap me on a horse.“

”My fathers Ranch. My cars there, I can drive you home.“

”Oh. Thank you.“ you said

”No need to. Just basic human decency.“ he said and you cold hear the smile in his voice.

”Yeah, I’m not used to that in the city.“ you chuckled in wich he joined in.

”Why’d you come here?“ he asked

”I needed a fresh start. I wasn’t happy in my, uhm, my living situation in New York. I knew I would get depressed if I stayed.“

He hummed

”Are you feeling better now?“

”To be honest I’m not sure. It feels great that I’m away from everything but I don’t know anyone here yet… so it’s kind of lonely.“

He hummed as an answer.

The rest of the ride to the ranch was filled with easy chatting. You found out about that his Dad owned a Ranch where he worked as a horsetrainer. You told him you worked in Media at your fathers company, not telling him who your father was.

The ranch was gorgeous. A big stone house as the main building, some stables and a few smaller houses. You earned a few looks from some of the cowboys leaning against a fence.

He got down and helped you safely get back to the ground.

”I’d show you around but I think your foot wouldn’t be too fond of that.“

”Maybe another time.“ you told him and he studied you for a second

”Yeah, another time.“

He had given the horse to one of the men standing close by, who was called Jimmy. Telling him to bring it back into the stable.

He helped you into his red truck and closed the door after you sat in the vehicle.

You told him where the place you stayed in was and he seemed to know where to go. The conversation was easy between you, he pointed out some places.

”You can get good burgers there.“ he said pointing to a diner

”We could do something if you’d like? I mean because you said you felt kind of lonely.“

”Oh? Yeah that be great.“ you smiled wich caused him to smile too

”Okay.“

He helped you up the front stairs of your place and you waved as he drove away. With a warm feeling and the thought that maybe you had made a friend you went inside.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 21, Unacceptable - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, allusions to sex, hypocritical Bucky, discussions of alcohol use, hangovers

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: 🎶Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you! You got high on molly, and brought Steve to your room!🎶

A/N: The morning after.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You woke up the following morning completely hungover, but in good spirits, nonetheless. You had had an amazing time at your party, and not even Bucky and Jade's surprise appearance could have put a damper on your evening. And, if you had told yourself yesterday that you would wake up with Steve Rogers in bed next to you, you would have laughed in your own face.

Life certainly was surprising.

Sometime in the night, your handkerchief top had gotten all twisted around you, and was no longer doing much to cover your chest, so you discarded it and grabbed Steve's button up shirt from where he had tossed it on the floor, putting it on to cover yourself and laughing when you saw it completely covered the skirt you were wearing. The man was massive. You stood up and stretched, your body aching from all of the previous night's physical activity.

Looking over your shoulder, your gaze fell across the giant super soldier spread out on his stomach in your bed, his blond hair tousled and going in every direction.

"Take a picture; it will last longer," he murmured, not opening his eyes.

You laughed and crawled back onto the bed to sit next to him. "Rise and shine, Stevie," you sang.

"Not so loud," he groaned, putting a pillow over his head.

"Awww, has poor Captain America been felled by the evil Asgardian liquor?" you teased. "If only the Nazis had known your one true weakness. World War II would have ended so differently."

"Never again," Steve moaned, rolling over onto his back.

"See, I feel like you say 'never again,' yet there's always a next time," you joked, poking him in the side through his undershirt. "Come on, up and at'em, Cap. I gotta get ready to leave for Atlantic City."

Steve's eyes flew open at the mention of the mission. "Oh, shit," he said, sitting upright. "I need to make sure your fake IDs and documents are fully ready before you go!" He jumped to his feet, scrambling to put his shoes back on.

"Language, Cap," you teased as you walked him to the door.

You opened it for him, and he stepped out, then turned around to look at you. "Are we good, Pocket?" he asked, worry stretched across his brow. "I know last night was... Well, it wasn't our usual. I just want to make sure we're okay."

You leaned up and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. "We're golden, Stevie," you murmured. "Thank you for last night. You were great. Really." He smiled before pulling you in for a tight, one-armed hug.

"Thanks, Pocket." He kissed the crown of your head. "I'll see you in a bit." You closed the door behind him and let out a content sigh. You would not have anticipated ending last night the way you did, but you had to admit, you weren't upset with the way things had played out. You moved back into your room and grabbed your duffle bag out from underneath your bed. You still had a few hours left before you and Sam were scheduled to leave for New Jersey, but you hadn't yet packed a thing.

After a while, a knock on your door caught your attention. Smiling to yourself, you went to answer.

"Sorry, Stevie, you're not getting this shirt back any--" your voice faltered when you saw that it wasn't Steve standing at your door, but Bucky.

And he looked like shit. His eyes were rimmed in red, and he was still wearing the same clothes from last night. His face looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept. But the most noticeable thing of all was the hard set of his jaw.

"Are you trying to kill me, Pocket?" he asked with a voice that was rough with agony. "Did you really want to get back at me that badly?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Barnes," you said, your own voice clipped. You put your arms across your chest, feeling the need to cover yourself. The motion only served to draw Bucky's attention to what you were wearing.

"Is that his fucking shirt?" he growled, and for a moment, it was a sick mirror of the night the two of you had first slept together, but then you realized immediately-- this wasn't about you. It was about Steve.

"Relax, Barnes," you said, rolling your eyes. As if, for once, he truly gave a shit about you. "I'm not trying to seduce your boy to my dark side of the Force. He's still your best friend."

"Like hell he is, now!" Bucky shouted at you, and the ferocity of his words caused you to step back. Bucky advanced on you, stepping further into your room. “For fucks’ sake, (Y/N)! I asked one thing of you! I begged– if you ever wanted to sleep with someone to hurt me, I’d hate it, but I’d understand, but I told you if it was Steve it would fucking kill me!”

Bucky had never, ever called you by your real name before, and the sound of it from his mouth felt like a slap in the face. You'd told him how much you'd hated it, because it was the name your mother had given you, that you shared with her, and that version of you had died when you were finally able to escape from your old life.

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you said, and you were amazed you’d managed to keep your voice calm. Cold, emotionless. “How many times did I beg you to stay away from Carthage? How many times did you reduce me to a crying mess over her, knowing how much I despised her and what she was doing to us? But you just had to fuck her, anyway, didn’t you?

“And even now, you still rub it in my face and expect me to have any fucking respect for you? How dare you show up to my party with that filthy cunt by your side? Were you trying to embarrass me in front of everyone who actually cares about me? Do you get off on watching my heart break? On causing me pain?”

“I didn’t go to the party with her,” he said. He’d lowered the tone of his voice now, but it was still full of anger. “She showed up, kept following me. Asking me to be with her. I couldn’t get her away from me all night! I wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but I didn’t want to cause a scene, to take attention away from you.”

“Oh, well, my fucking hero, then,” you said, slowly clapping. “Forgive me if I don’t leap into your arms with gratitude. Seem to find myself out of fucks to give where you’re concerned. Can’t imagine why.”

“Because you’re with Steve now?” Bucky asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Who I do or do not sleep with stopped being your business the second you decided to stick your dick in that bitch,” you told him.

“It’s my business because you’re still my girl!” he shouted at you. You were sure Jade was having the time of her life listening in on your conversation right now. 

“Really?” you asked him, stone-faced. “Fucking really?! You need to go, Barnes." Your voice was cold, steady, and you were proud of yourself for not shaking the way you were shaking inside. "If you think I'm trying to steal Steve from you, you can go talk to him about it. I don't have anything more to say to you." You moved to the side of your door, holding it open for him, expectantly. He ran his hands through his hair.

"This is just cruel, Pocket," he murmured.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" you asked him.

"Do you care about him?" he asked. “Or were you just trying to get back at me? To hurt my feelings like I hurt yours?”

"I believe you'll find I wasn't thinking about your feelings at all, Barnes. Now go away, before I have FRIDAY call Thor to kick your ass out of here." He looked at you before he left, and his expression was completely broken. If you hadn't been so angry at him, it would have made your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. But that sympathy belonged to a friend, to a lover, you didn't have anymore.

Finally, with a dejected sigh, Bucky walked out, leaving you to shut and lock the door behind him, though you knew that, if he really wanted to come back in, the flimsy lock would do nothing to stop him.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[just-dreaming-marvel]

LEGACY ~ 14

LEGACY MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,750ish

Summary: Tony shows up after two months...

Warnings: kidnapping

You woke up with a decision made: you were permanently moving to the Compound. You made sure that Tony wasn’t at the Tower when you, Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Natasha arrived to pack up your things and bring them to the Compound. It took the day to get everything packed up and moved to your new full-time residence.

Since permanently moving in almost two months ago, the headache that you had throughout the Ultron incident returned. You didn’t want to bother anyone about it so you kept it a secret. Tony and you had also not talked since that day at the Tower. Steve kept you on a routine, trying to help you though everyone could see that you were slowly falling apart. Due to that, Steve wouldn’t allow you to go on missions with them but you had convinced him to let you help in the med-bay when they returned. It allowed you to practice your healing abilities on the Team.

The Team had just come back from a mission, meaning that you were in the med-bay making sure that everyone was okay. 

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam said as he walked out of the med-bay.

“No problem!” You responded. You gave your attention to the final member left, Steve. He was still all geared up in his Captain America suit, watching you intently. “Now it’s your turn Cap.”

He shook his head. “I’m good.”

You pointed to his side. “You were hit. I can see the blood still flowing. Take off your top and lay down.”

“Y/N, I’m–”

“Now.”

“Fine,” he grudgingly gave in. He pulled the top of his suit off to reveal a white tank top with blood running down his side. “Do you need this off too?” He pulled at the tank top.

“It would help.” Steve grimaced as he pulled the tank top off. “Good, my ass,” you muttered. “Now lay down.”

Steve walked over to the bed and laid down. You set your hands on the wound, closed your eyes, and focused. As it began to heal, you winced at your headache getting worse and some of your strength leaving you.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, having noticed you wince.

“Nothing,” you quickly answered, eyes snapping open. “I’m good.” You winced again as the pain continued.

“You just winced again. Is this too much for you? Are you using too much of your strength?”

“No, Steve. I’m fine. It’s nothing.” You lifted your hands up to see that the wound was healed. “See, all better.”

You turned around and walked over to the sink, washing your hands. You heard Steve get up, throw a shirt on, and walk over. Grabbing a towel to dry your hands, you turned back around. You and Steve were standing extremely close to each other. You noticed the concern was written all over his facial features.

“Come on, Y/N/N,” he whispered. He grabbed one of your hands and started rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “I know that you’ve been hiding something from me. You don’t have to.”

“I’m not hiding anything, Steve.”

“Then why did you wince?”

You sighed and looked down at your connected hands. “My headaches have started up again.”

“Like during the Ultron incident?” You nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I didn’t want to wor–” You were cut off by the sound of the med-bay doors opening. You quickly pulled your hand from him and turned to the sink, setting the towel down, as Steve stepped back.

“Am I interrupting something?” Tony asked. You suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“No,” Steve answered, sternly. “Y/N was just washing up.”

“Yeah? You let her get hurt, Cap?”

“She’s been using her abilities to help us heal up after missions.”

“Well, she is a very kind and talented young woman... Can I have a moment alone with my daughter?”

Steve glanced at you, wanting to make sure that it was okay with you. You looked over your shoulder and sent him a small nod. “Sure. I’ll be right outside.”

You nodded, unable to make yourself fully turn around to face Tony. This was the first time we’d been in the same room or spoken to each other in two months. You knew that you should be as calm as possible, but at this point, you couldn’t make any promises.

“So you moved here to become their nurse?” Tony broke the silence as soon as the doors shut behind Steve. “Didn’t think you were interested in the medical field.”

“I’m not,” you responded. You turned around and folded your arms over your chest as you leaned against the counter. “I just wanted to feel more like a part of the Team and Steve won’t let me join in on missions right now.”

“Good for him.”

“What are you doing here, Dad?”

“I came to apologize.”

“Apologize?” You scoffed. “An apology isn’t going to do much after you’ve been ignoring me for months.”

“I had my reasons.”

“Yeah? And what were they?” Tony stayed silent. “If you can’t share your reasons, I can’t accept your apology.”

“I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me? Pushing me away is protecting me?”

“I had to. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me, Dad! Tell me a reason good enough to make up for months of ignoring me. Do you know how that made me feel? I felt unwanted by the only parent who once seemed to want me.”

“You are wanted, Y/N.” Tony took a few steps closer. “What I was doing… I was protecting you from those who were looking for you.”

“Looking for me? How would you know—” Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. “---my files… I didn’t lose them in the free fall… You took them, didn’t you?”

“The information in those files—” The images and words flashed through Tony’s mind. The horrors that you had been subjected to that he was trying to protect you from. “I was doing what I thought was best as your father. ”

“What you thought was best?! I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other!”

“I was protecting you—”

“Stop saying that! You pushed me away! How is that protecting me?”

“You don’t understand, HYDRA was still after you. Monitoring your every move, even from the inside. I needed to make sure that they could never get to you again.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was scared!”

“That’s not reason enough. I should have made the decision about what to do with the files. That is my past. My life!” 

“I stand by my decision. You were in serious danger. They were going to take you and finish making you into what you were born to be.”

“Born to be? Do you mean… I was born for HYDRA? That I–”

“See? This information is too much for you. The information in those files would destroy you.”

“I should have been able to make that decision myself.” You had had enough of the round-a-bout conversation. “I need some air.” 

“Y/N,” Tony tried to grab your arm as walked past.

“Don’t!” You pulled away, causing the doors to open. Steve was standing there, ready to protect you. “I just… I need some air. Don’t follow me.”

Steve and Tony stood there, watching until you disappeared down the hall. Steve’s anger towards Tony only grew as the seconds passed. Tony went to follow, but Steve stepped in his way.

“This is between me and my daughter, Rogers,” Tony stated.

“She needs some air,” Steve replied. “You need to allow her time to process everything. You really broke her trust, even before this conversation.”

“You’re not incharge of me, Cap. I will follow after my daughter if I want.”

“I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me? Watch it, Rogers. It would do you well to be very careful about what you choose to say right now.”

“Or what?”

“Boss,” FRIDAY broke the growing tension, “we have a situation.”

“What is it FRIDAY?” Tony asked, still glaring at Steve.

“Miss Stark has stolen Captain Rogers’ motorcycle and has left the property.”

~~~

When you said you had needed air, you had been serious. But the moment you made it to the garage and saw Steve’s motorcycle, you made the decision to take a ride. You easily tore the tracker from the motorcycle before driving off. After exiting the property, you decided to take a ride through the forest to try and prevent easy tracking.

You knew it was stupid, everything inside you was screaming at you, but you ended up stopping at the first town you saw. You pulled the motorcycle into an alley and parked it. You knew you didn’t have a lot of time before one of the Team would find you, but you didn’t care. Heading into the nearby store, you bought a backpack, snacks, and water. You were running away but you were planning on being gone the rest of the day. As you checked out of the store, you had a feeling like you were being followed. Quickly, you went back to the motorcycle, only to find two bulky men dressed in all black waiting for you.

“Sorry, is this your alley?” You tried to play clueless. “I’ll get out of your way.” You went to get on the motorcycle when one of them grabbed your arm. You swiftly kicked him in the stomach, sending him stumbling back. The other guy grabbed your waist. “Shouldn’t you ask me on a date first? I feel like we’re moving a little fast here.”

You pushed your legs off the ground and latched them around his neck. Using your momentum, you threw the two of you to the ground. You quickly stood up and kicked him in the face. You ripped off your backpack and hit the other guy, coming up from behind. 

While you were fighting the two off, you didn’t notice two more men enter the alley. One of them pulled a syringe out of his coat pocket and stabbed it into my neck. Your hand flew up to your neck as you spun around. You didn’t get a good look at the man as you soon became light headed.

“Call headquarters and tell them we have her,” one of them ordered as you fell to the ground. “Tell them that our soldier is coming home.”

You tried to argue but you were unable to as your world went black.

next chapter >

[sotwk]

Happy Birthday to you! Love your campfire party idea! I’d like to request a drabble about Steve Rogers/Captain America.

Thank you so much!

Thank you for the request, @zeldastrife, and for giving me a chance to dream about my favorite superhero of all time! <3 I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you and others will love it just as much. :)

Content/Genre: Marvel; Gen fluffy summer romance

Fireworks

Steve Rogers x Reader

Ever since you were a child, the fireworks show has always been your favorite part of the annual Fourth of July picnic. But now they were merely a convenient cover that allowed you to fixate on the sight you truly wished to openly stare at. 

He must have seen so many firework displays in his long lifetime, and with him being a war veteran (a gross understatement), you wondered if the sound of the roaring, cracking explosions bothered him. But the relaxed expression on his face, tipped toward the brightly, colorfully lit night sky, gave no indication of discomfort. 

Dressed in a plain gray t-shirt, jeans, and a Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap, Steve passed for a run-of-the-mill all-American, allowing him to spend the entire day mingling with the rest of the townsfolk, quietly charming everyone with his gracious, easy manners, but never drawing prolonged attention to himself.

Who would ever expect Captain America to attend a small town, middle-of-nowhere celebration on such a significant holiday? No one would ever believe it, and none of the folks who had looked the living legend right in the face and spent several minutes chatting him up suspected a thing.

You yourself could still barely believe the entire day, or any of the past few weeks that led up to the present moment, was actually real. Steve Rogers was your date. Your love life catapulted from a woeful, lonely drought to dating literally the most perfect man in the entire nation. To think you had nearly turned him down for fear that this was all an elaborate prank or some cosmic joke. But thank God, truly, for the sudden, miraculous ability to not let your deep-seated anxieties get in the way this one time. 

Steve’s renowned bravery was slowly rubbing off you; you could tell. Every moment you spent in his company, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable and confident in your own skin, as though you were learning to see in yourself what he probably saw in you. Good things that he decided were worth his time and interest. 

That courage began to stir and bubble up inside you while you continued to watch Steve watch the fireworks. You knew he was a staunch gentleman, forever rooted in his old-fashioned ways. Four dates in and he's never done anything more than hold your hand or give you gentle hugs. 

He would not like a girl who’s too forward. The brazen courage smothered down the nagging warnings in your head. Or just give it a try, this braver side of you proposed.

You reached across the small distance between you and slipped your hand over his arm, folded across his chest. His intent blue eyes immediately shifted to you, and the smile he gave made your heart stutter.

Before your courage could get snuffed out, you rose on your toes and swiftly planted a kiss on his clean-shaven cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Steve. I hope you had fun today.”

With the daring deed done, your electrified nerves shorted out, and your gaze fell to the ground, heavy with growing shame. Hopefully the memory of that one kiss would be worth it, if this was to be the end. 

His strong hand closed around yours, squeezing gently, returning your strength to you. That hand then shifted to the small of your back, drawing you against him.

“Today was…” His fingers ghosted across your jawline before resting, lingering underneath your chin. Your own hands came up to his chest, your head was spinning and you so badly needed to steady yourself. Suddenly you noticed his heart was racing, pulsing furiously underneath your palm. 

“...perfect.” His chest heaved as he finally finished his sentence, and for a fleeting, ridiculously giddy moment right before he pressed his warm lips on yours, you realized that Captain America had been rendered nervous and breathless. Just for a moment, but it was all because of you.

This limited edition Marvel fic is a gift written as part of SotWK's Summer Campfire Sleepover 2024. (Requests accepted only on July 11-15, 2024.)

[blueberryarchive]

Off The Races

In which you, the sweetheart of America and famous actress, gets tired of the director's bullshit and Taehyung, your two times winner Nascar boyfriend, it's called to "calm you down".

♡Pairing: Racer!Taehyung & Actress!Reader

♡Genre: 1950's Hollywood au, fwb

♡Word Count: 2.3k

♡Warnings: Mention of drugs and alcohol, drunk driving, sexism, penetration, oral, very dramatic lol

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

California, 1952

The makeup seemed to melt into your skin as the scorching California sun beat down on your face, blonde hair in voluminous waves tickling your shoulders. You didn't want to admit it, but the gold of the wig made your tan glow like a goddess.

A goddess on the brink of madness. The kind to let thunder fall on all the men who praised you with their words and profaned you with their eyes.

The lights that were put in front of you when singing action, the childish phrases that your new director wanted you to say in a tone of pure innocence. They made you tremble with disgust, but your agent had fought so much to get you this role and you, with so much time in this business, still didn't know how to say no to a good role that would catapult you back to heaven.

You loved the cameras, the attention, and the screams of the young women and girls seeking your divine attention in public. Be the cliché rag-to-riches icon. Icon of hope for America. America's little sweetheart.

Even when you seemed to be failing, you could hear people gasp in the streets at the sight of your emerald dress full of beads and stones, the tulle piled up inside your little car. A thin veil of whitish powder delicately covered your nostrils, the red lipstick smeared on your dress, and the long scarf that floated out of your Disco Volante, the cute car that Taehyung gave you a couple of months ago. The car looked like a red bullet flying through the streets, the palms shading your clown-like theatre makeup.

Your right hand, covered in lace, moved as abruptly against the steering wheel as if you were driving alone through the streets, dodging the other cars by almost brushing their rear bumpers.

From your left hand, dangled a cigarette that was finishing with the seconds and the harsh wind. You didn't know when you'd light it on, maybe between the time you ran out screaming that you wouldn't do a tenth take of the same fucking scene and when your car seemed to roar just under your stiletto heels.

No one chased you, not even your agent, he knew it would be worse if they treated you like a child to convince you to be submissive. Much less that son of a bitch of a director that thought he could get into your panties for knowing how to look behind his glasses and yell 'Cut!' over and over again.

On the other hand, Taehyung was finishing his cigarette leaning against his red Hudson Hornet, one of his most precious jewels after you.

The workshop was alive with the noise of men talking and laughing, machines, and the roar of engines being tested. His car was being checked for the race on Sunday, and he looked into the engine himself whenever he could, even when he had a crew of mechanics.

His favorite part was wiping the towel over the car to give it the finishing touch, his last name on the side next to a 7 painted in white. It was beautiful. He felt his chest swell with pride every time he did it. 

The Korean boy who played with cars made from milk cartons and soda caps. Now a two-time Nascar championship winner.

He dropped his cigarette butt to the ground as Little James, one of his mechanics, called several times from the small office at the end of the workshop. The telephone was in Little James' hand with a face of surprise and terror. The corner of Taehyung's lip lifted because he knew who could cause that expression with just a look and a simple action.

He walked slowly, keeping the cigarette box in the sleeve of his white shirt. Grabbing the phone, he asked Little James to leave him alone with a single raised hand.

"Now what?"

"She did it again, Kim. I don't know what I'm going to do with her."

"You should throw her off a bridge and tell her that'll make her more famous" Taehyung chuckled wiping his oily hands on the fabric of his shirt. Taehyung could almost hear your agent squinting his eyes under his bottle-bottom glasses.

One of these days you would kill him from a heart attack, Taehyung thought that was your purpose.

"I don't know where she's gone but we need to finish at least three scenes today and-" the man stammered. "Kim, she's wearing a dress that costs twice my salary. She needs to stop acting like a child, you should control her."

"Mmm," Taehyung snorted. "You've been with her for years, dear Carl. You've been handling her since she turned sixteen and still don't know how to tell her to calm down? To fucking stop her nagging?"

"No" he complained, not understanding the sarcasm in Taehyung's voice. "Since she turned twenty I don't know what to do with her"

Taehyung rolled his eyes "You can calm down, Carl" he assured with a serene voice.

"Are you going to look for her?"

"Yeah, cancel the whole week too, and tell that fucking director of yours not to try to change the actress because he's going to regret it"

"Do you know who you're talking about? Mr. Truman doesn't take shit from anyone, not even her"

"If they take her out of the movie, you won't find anyone like her"

"Kim..." Carl sighed in disappointment, he more than anyone knew it was the truth.

"Goodbye, Carl" Taehyung put the phone down, searching for his motorcycle keys.

You were on one of the highest hills, revealing a city of papers and moving images. 

The air around you was sweet and heavy; the palms were unfazed by the desperate heat. You gripped the wheel tightly looking up the rocky steep, of course you thought about it. You're also not trying to lie to yourself when you hear the sound in your head of how your body falls sharply, hitting each sharp stone. 

You took a deep breath and looked inside your car, white leather decorated to the smallest detail. A shuddering hand grabbed the bag on the passenger seat, a bottle so small it looked like a toy; with your fingernail covered in red varnish, you picked up the white dust. 

"What do you think you're doing?" your body tensed upon hearing the unfathomable voice of your boyfriend. Or so the magazines said, not that it bothered you that it was called that. 

His motorcycle was behind the car, high waisted jeans and sculpted white tee. A feast to the eyes. He came to you with slow steps, lighting a cigarette on his oily hands while he analyzed the scene in front of him: the biggest dress he has seen and your dilated pupils.

You cocked your head at Taehyung, his eyes unreadable. Your heart pounded when you saw him, eyes narrowed by the scorching sunlight, his eyebrows almost knit together with the lit wrinkled cigarette on his lips. 

They had already been five months since the first time you two met and the ineffable splendor that exuded from Taehyung was such, that every time you saw him, you felt like a schoolgirl. A girl having her first infatuation upon knowing what a man was; not the kind who pulled your hair to get your attention but one of those men who fix things and says the right thing all the time. 

Taehyung didn't talk much, he kept his voice like a rivulet, firm but gentle. You loved that about him, you loved when he would say the strangest things to you and then adorn it with "my love." 

For example: "Don't you think if you're going to go up a hill at noon, at least have something lighter, my love?" You didn't know if he was talking about the dress or the cocaine that was spreading away from your fingernail. 

"For the moment, it suits me perfectly, honey" You got out of the car removing your sunglasses to see him without the dark tint. His smell of smoke and perfume eternalized your nerves. 

"What are you doing here?" you said, pleased with the view.

"Your agent is worried about you" 

"Let him worry, he doesn't know what awaits him on this shoot" 

"I thought you wanted this role" his hands slid to the tight part of your waist, the smoke of both of your cigars blinding you.

"It's not the role I want, Taehyung dear" You looked at him with half-closed eyes, drunk with obsession. 

"Mmhm," was all he said, letting smoke out of his nose. You didn't realize when but you exhaled when you felt how the dress no longer tightened your waist; the open zipper on your back. 

"And what does my doll want?" he asked, throwing the cigar from your mouth away, spitting his.

"My face...everywhere" you smiled just thinking about it. Taehyung gently squeezed your breast, studying your face. 

"I want women to cut their hair to look like me and for men to masturbate in their bathrooms just by watching me on TV" a moan escaped your lips as you felt Taehyung's tongue cool your neck.

"What else?" said he leaving wet kisses all over your chest.

"I want-" your mind was overflowing with flashing pictures, "I want to enter rooms with a simple dress, and people to still make a fuzz about it, for them to think it's easy." You sighed, hearing the fabric break under his hands.

"What's easy?" He stopped the trail of kisses to see your face, close enough to smell the alcohol on your tongue.

"To be me." You smiled, him too. He grasped your untouched finger, still covered with the angel dust, took your wrist, and began to brush his gums with your index, the fine powder disappearing with his saliva. You never looked away.

He took your face in his grubby hands, cupped your cheeks, and drank you in like it was the first time, the last too. With a kiss, he pressed you against the side of the car. Putting his hands beneath your knees, he lifted you to take you to the hood. 

Number two of the things you discovered about him, it's the way he could make you melt. His hands opened your knees and broke the last pieces of the detailed skirt, glitter and stones flew in the air. 

The only thing you could do was let him do his part, you loved watching him perform. He crawled on top of you, the metallic noise of the hood sinking because of the weight. He ripped your white panties letting your pussy feel the cool air. "Oh, honey." You purred with a cocaine-induced smile, the alcohol making your whole core blush. "The way you move, makes me feel like one of your precious cars" 

He laughed while going down on you, his tongue found the throbbing nub beneath all the fabric and stones sticking to your sweaty skin. You yelped.

"I love the way you taste." He whined nibbling the skin of your inner thigh, he was going insane and you loved it. His tongue made its way to your core moving his head like a wild animal, growling while he ate you out. 

You couldn't give two fucks about who saw you or heard you, though, it was difficult people were going to when you were in the middle of nowhere. What a shame, really. You would've loved letting people see the stoic Kim Tae Hyung going down on you. His head lifted looking for air and looked at you with hooded eyes.

"Take my belt off, pretty thing." He demanded in a low voice, swallowing your taste. You obeyed with a rush. 

He took your hand and spit on it, with the raise of his brows you understood. You started wetting his shaft with his spit. His eyebrows furrow, tilting his head letting the sweat on his neck glist in the harsh light. "Fuck" he whispered and you felt so proud of your hard work.

After a few pumps, he couldn't control himself. His body fell on top of yours, softly putting your hands behind your head. His cock find your entrance and you both twitched at the feeling, he moved as slowly as he could. Breathy groans came out of his throat. 

"What about me, darling?" He started saying brushing his lips in your ear. "I'm not a billboard or a little shiny statue. Can you still take my adoration as something precious?" His heart was at the edge of a cliff, the tears too.

Your body trembled and laughed nervously. You've heard so many adorations from men, took them all like thrown roses.

This one felt like a dagger, a begging instead of a prayer.

"Don't be silly, Kim." Was everything you could say.

"When have I been a fool with you?" He interrupted, sinking the blade a little more when he stopped smiling. Gripping your hands harder under his. 

You denied. The in-and-out had you seeing stars around him. "Never" you exhaled.

"Let me take you on a date, please, honey" he whined leaving sweet pecks in your face and neck. "Let me treat you right"

You breathe so hard you shake, and with a roll of his skilled hips, you rolled your eyes, biting your lips. This man took his job so seriously, even when he was begging. 

"I never liked jesters anyways" you finally said, he smiles and pushed his body up without stopping his hips, taking the sweaty top off. 

His thumbs caressed your tummy and grip your sides so hard you squinted, he went as hard as possible. The car creaked under the movements. 

Taehyung's wet hair dripped salty drops. The sun made a halo around his body behind him and you could swear you were in heaven.

You hummed when you came, almost singing away your orgasm. It came so soft and smooth, the high was lovely. 

The boy on top of you groaned and smiled brightly, laughing so beautifully when his cum started coming out in hot shots. "God" he laughed even more throwing his head back. "You're insane" he denied seeing the mess of green diamonds, dripping mascara in your face, your sweaty wig letting your hair peek through the cap. "I love it" he whispered kissing your hand with adornment.

"I love it too" you sighed.

a/n: Thanks to @peachypinkygloss for giving me the courage to actually write, lots of love. This two characters have been in my mind and my journal for quiet some time and it's time i give it a try.

You can write to me on private if you have some critics or want to help me on my grammar.