#can feel it dripping down my leg sorry but WHAT THE FUCK i’ve never seen this scene so clearly before

[shellxrls]

guys . i

[turcott3]

34 + 35

logan sargeant x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, smut!!, oral sex, foreplay, unprotected sex, breeding kink (hence the song)

positions fics masterlist

~watchin movies but we ain’t seen a thing tonight~

-

“logan.” you groaned, lightly pushing the boy. the room was filled with darkness and only lit by the tv.

“what do you want to watch? i’ve asked you fifty times.” he laughs, handing you the remote.

“don’t hate me but i’ve been wanting to rewatch this.” you say opening max to none other than, fifty shades of grey.

“you know i said i didn’t want to watch this.” he groans.

“just one chance logan please.” you beg, tugging on his shirt.

“fine, we can watch it.” he giggles as you press play and find your way under his arm. after a long bout of silence, your focus begin to stray. it was hard not to look at your boyfriend, who’s eyes were locked on the screen. he seemed to be invested but this movie was ramping up your sexual energy.

“are you okay?” he says breaking the silence.

“mhm” is all you muster out and his eyes stay locked on you as you shift your legs uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of his arm around you. you wanted any friction you could get.

“logan.” you whisper.

“hm?” he replies.

“can i put the blanket over us? i’m cold.”

“yes of course.” he replies, his thumb lightly caressing your arm, sending goosebumps throughout your body.

your hand began to wander, lightly touching his leg. you take one of the drawstrings of his sweatpants between your fingers, twisting it slowly back and forth, hoping he’ll notice sooner than later. intentionally, you brushed your hand over his dick to grab the other drawstring to play with.

“baby what are you doing?” he giggles.

“nothin.” you reply, giving him doe eyes.

“you’re the one that put this on, watch it.” he says briefly focusing back on the screen.

“you’re right sorry i just…. have something on my mind.” you say, your hand slowly drifting closer to his dick underneath the cloth of his great sweatpants. his breath hitches as you pull the waistband slightly. your fingers wrap around his thick cock, quickly rubbing him hard.

“y/n.” he says.

“shhh.” you smirk, pressing a kiss to his lips as you stroke him firmly, paying close attention to his sensitive tip.

“fuck.” he says, his head thrown back, the movie now just background noise to help drown out the groans exiting his mouth.

you sit up on your knees pulling the waistband completely down, moving the blanket with it, completely exposing his dick. you lean over and spit on it, working your warm saliva onto his dick, running your thumb over the bulging veins. your lips make contact with his tip, his hips bucking slightly as a reaction. you push spit through your lips, watching it drip down his throbbing cock. he gathers your hair carefully behind your head keeping it out of your way as you slowly take him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. you gag as is dick hits the back of your throat but stay put momentarily before removing him with a pop.

“fuck baby, you’re so fucking good at that.” he says before you attach your lips to his sloppily.

hastily, you remove your shorts and panties, simply discarding them on the floor. you climb into his lap lining him up with yourself as you sink onto him. he attaches his lips to your neck as you wrap your arms around his. you moved in rhythmic circles, something you’d never tried before.

“oh my god.” he grunts out moving away from your neck locking eyes with you without another word. clearly your choice made him happy.

“is that good?”

“so fucking good.” he sighs attaching his lips to yours, his tongue begging for entry which is quickly given. you start to move up and down, the sound of skin clapping quickly drowning out the movie that remained playing in the background.

“logan.” you say, your voice wavering at the sensation his thick cock made you feel while it was pounding into you. his hips met yours in the middle with a snap causing you to yelp before collapsing over resting your head on his shoulder while he pile drives you, your nails dragging harshly down his back under his shirt. your moans all meshed together, you could hardly stand the way he was making you feel.

“look at me baby, look at me.” he says as you pick your head up off his shoulder, daze in your eyes. he connects your lips lovingly, he knew you were close. he could feel your walls grow tighter around him with each thrust.

“are you gonna come for me baby?” he asks.

“uh-huh.” is all you can say, your moans growing sharper and sharper by the second as he picks up his pace, thrusting deep into you.

“fuck i’m coming.” you gasp, your body releasing shockwaves, your legs jolting every few seconds as you collapsed over his body.

“get up baby,” he says lightly tapping you on the ass. this was your typical ritual when you fucked without a condom.

“no baby.” you groan into his shirt as he slows his strokes down.

“you want me t-“

“yes fuck yes, i want it in me logan.” which was surprisingly all you needed to say to send him over the edge, spilling his climax deep inside you. you stayed in that position out of breath for a few moments before you pull him out of you.

you laid down next to him spreading your legs slightly, dragging your fingers through the little bit of cum that dripped between your legs and sucking it off your fingers as he watched you intensely.

“fuck i love you y/n. you’re fucking perfect.” he says climbing over you and reattaching your lips.

“please logan, please fuck me again.” you beg, tugging on his shirt so he wouldn’t back away.

“baby what if you get pregnant?” he asks, his eyes wandering your face for an expression.

“you’ll be in the off season again in 9 months.” you say, trying to egg him on. you’d never imagined yourself having kids until you got with logan. something about him and having his babies turned you on in ways you couldn’t explain.

“are you sure?” he asks, a little bit of hope gleaming in his eyes.

“i’ve never been more sure.” you smirked.

“god i love you. i love you so much.”

“i love you too baby.” you giggle as his lips make harsh contact with your neck.

-

[lucid-loves]

Personally His

Imagine: Simon Riley rewarding the 141’s personal assistant for doing a good job with putting up with him.

CW: MDNI, Smut, Office Sex, Slow and Deep, Praise Kink, Edging

You on his desk, your back arching against the smooth oak as he runs his hands over your hips. Simon Riley loves looking down at you, blouse buttons open, pencil skirt hiked up, new tights ripped to reveal your dripping cunt. Every now and then, his hands will squeeze your thighs hard, making you gasp and quiver before he massages the pleasurable pain away. 

“You’ve been such a good assistant, love~” He praises in his deep, husky voice that never fails to give you shivers. While you were everyone’s personal assistant within the 141 team, Simon was quick to make you his with rewards. This is one of them.

“I’ve never seen my desk so organized. You must’ve spent a long time fixing it for me. Such a good girl~” He continues, spreading your legs further apart to get a better look at you. You whimper, pussy clenching in anticipation for his cock. 

Everyone except Simon had been easy to take care of. He’s been messy, neglectful, and always busy. He’s snapped at you and been curt with you a few times too when you invaded his space. It wasn’t until you saved him from attending court for an unpaid parking ticket that he let you really help him out. 

After that, you’ve been rewarded for your work with flowers for your own desk, lunches on him, and now a good fuck over your hard work.

“S-Simon. . .” You sigh, senses on fire as you feel his tip press against your entrance. You are eager, but also nervous. You glance towards the closed and locked door, your heart shuttering. 

He takes your chin to redirect your attention onto him. His eyes behind the mask gaze at you hungrily. “Don’t worry, love. They won’t be back for a while. You’re all mine.”

His cock plunged into you before you can respond, bottoming out within a second. His hand covers your mouth, muting your near scream as you feel yourself stretch to accommodate his length. Plunging into a sudden orgasm, your body trembles and you struggle to catch your breath. Your hands go over his, gripping hard to try to regain some semblance of control. All you can see are stars.

He feels your pussy tighten around him, soaking him already in more nectar than before. You knew he's smirking under that dark mask. “You cum already, love? Someone must’ve been looking forward to this. Such a good girl~”

Electricity runs up your spine as he calls you the name you’ve been wanting to hear since your first day here. You were his good girl. His good little assistant.

He slowly rocks his hips, forcing you to feel every single inch of him. Forcing you to take him as deep as you can. It takes everything in you not to moan as loud as you want. To scream his name like he's equally yours. The team may have gone to a meeting, but it didn’t mean that passerbyers wouldn’t be able to hear the hot sex behind the door. 

Simon presses his hand against your lower stomach, making sure that you can feel all of him. “That’s it. That’s a good girl. Look at you, taking me so well.”

Your toes curl within your heels as he continues to thrust slow and deep. Biting your lip helps control the desperate whimpers that hung in that back of your throat. Suddenly, Simon thrusts hard, making you release that pretty voice that he has grown to like. Even when you were nagging him to take better care of himself, he wouldn’t want to hear it from anyone else. 

“Sorry for being difficult at the start. Promise to make it up to you, but I wanna hear your moans too.” He admits teasingly, pulling and pushing his hips hard to properly fuck you on his desk. The wet sound of your cunt reverberates throughout the office, making you blush.

You can barely take it anymore. He's fucking you hard, but still slow. You want more. He knows you want more by the way his exposed eyes crinkle with a hidden, devious smile. You had to beg for what you wanted. “P-Please, Simon, more!”

Your begging was only slightly rewarded. He settles your legs on his shoulders and presses your soft thighs down against the polished wood. Gloved fingers dig into your skin, only making you more aroused from his man-handling. But his movements are still only slow, deep, and hard. It keeps you away from another orgasm that you crave so badly. Edging you. While you do want more, you are enjoying feeling all of him please your pussy. 

He enjoys your heat pulling him in as well. Though, he can be a little more patient than you. He wants to make sure that your next orgasm will rock your world. That and he wants to enjoy his time with you before he had to share your attention with his team again. 

“Not yet, love. Be a good girl and be patient while I savor this some more.”

[chnhyvng]

things skz would say during sex

BANG CHAN

“you take me so well like the little whore you are”

“of course you want more. all fours now”

“that sloppy cunt of yours still isn’t satisfied?”

“since you want to act like a bitch i’ll treat you like one. on your knees”

“you suck cock like you were born to do it, baby”

“spread those legs for me like i know you can”

“you’re moaning like a needy slut, darling”

LEE KNOW

“aigoo, does my princess want more? you should’ve thought about that before acting like a brat hm?”

“fuck, this pussy is mines and you better not forget it either”

“take it down your throat—swallow it all baby”

“good girl, let our neighbors know just how good i make you feel”

“tell me who you belong to princess. shit. keep griping my cock like the fleshlight you are”

“you want gentle? oh baby you should know better than to ask for that”

“look at that..you look so fucking hot with my cum dripping out of your loose hole”

CHANGBIN

“look at you, so small compared to your hyung”

“don’t push me right now or i’ll make sure every part of you is sore tomorrow”

“do you even know how to please me? just lay on your back and let me do the work then”

“you look so pretty when you cry, sweetheart”

“you’re so fragile i could hurt you without even meaning to, my little porcelain doll”

“baby, i know you can get louder than that. let me know how good i’m making that pussy feel”

“damn, you feel so good i don’t even want to pull out of you”

HYUNJIN

“sorry about the lingerie. you looked so good in lace i had to rip it off of you”

“who has that earlier? i bet he doesn’t make you feel the way i make you do”

“i just couldn’t keep my hands to myself seeing you in that dress, fuck”

“no gag reflex? oh darling you’re never leaving here”

“you want that chanel bag? show me how much you deserve it”

“you look so pretty moaning like a slut that i’m tempted to paint you just like this”

“darling you could rival all the art i’ve ever seen”

HAN

“does your husband fuck you like a cheap whore or like you’re priceless?”

“come on, i know you can take more in that pussy baby”

“oh don’t you love it when i grab your hair like that and pound your sloppy hole?”

“you’re so wet and needy for me and i haven’t even touched you yet”

“i want everyone to know how slutty you are when you go to work tomorrow with hickeys all over you”

“you want me to come inside you don’t you, darling?”

“make sure you think of me whenever you touch yourself later on”

FELIX

“you just love laying underneath me taking my cock don’t you?”

“i’ll fuck you so good you won’t ever want anyone else”

“come on love, i know you can cum for me one more time”

“aren’t you just the prettiest little thing when you suck cock?”

“are you sure you can take it all? you’re so fucking tight”

“you want to be filled up with my cum yeah?”

“aw, aren’t you such a sex-hungry little minx”

SEUNGMIN

“of course you get turned on by me wearing a suit earlier”

“what are you nympomaniac? god you love my cock”

“that’s what you call a moan? even your vocal cords are weak”

“you don’t deserve to cum do you?”

“gosh must you be so relentless? this is the fourth round”

“cry on my dick baby, i know you love it”

“you want me to slow down? you can take it for a little longer sweetie”

JEONGIN

“aren’t you embarrassed to be acting so needy?”

“look at yourself in the mirror. look at what a fucking mess you are”

“you came already when i barely even started? so sensitive”

“long hair or short doesn’t matter to me. i can pull both either way”

“open your legs wider..there you go. stop acting as if we haven’t been through this before girl”

“i bet you want me to knock you up with my babies to make sure everyone knows you’re mines hm? that can be arranged”

“spit in your mouth? oh you’re a freaky little whore aren’t you?”

[squirmhoney]

Would you write something where Aemond sneaks into y/n room while she’s bathing or changing by herself?

A/N: Sorry I haven’t posted in a while I’ve been quite busy. I have one more request to write up before i open my requests again. This is short but good. I’m sorry if you wanted it to be full on smut but this came to mind. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark! Reader Warnings: smut. Masturbation female and male. Perv Aemond. Voyeurism 18+.

Aemond hadn't seen you since you were mere children. The days where you would chase him around the library and snatch books out of his hands begging for a piece of attention. Oh, how you had grown since then...

The way he easily found himself in your rooms that night. He knew the tunnels that ran from his room to yours like the back of his hand. Ever since he had ran through them to sneak around with you when you were children. He found himself hiding in your room behind the secret door, having it open a tiny smidge.

You stood in your night gown as servants swarmed round you. Your head twisted at a sudden wooden creak, looking back to wall where you knew hid a secret door. Your eyebrows furrowed for a second as you stared at it not seeing much of anything in the dim light.

"Please," you commanded the servants, stopping them from undressing you. "I can undress and bathe myself. I can assure you that. For now I'd like to be left in peace."

The servants scurried at your assertive tone as you shooed them away with a flick of your hands.

You turned away from the wall now as you stood in front of the bath. Your fingers undid the slight not of your night dress allowing it slip in one swift motion to your toes.

Aemond's breath caught in his throat for a second at the sight. Your bare back uncovered for him to see. The way you bent over to poke your finger in the water, your plump ass fully on show as the lips of your cunt poked out.

His cock twitched in his pants and he found his hand digging in his briefs to find some sort of relief. He stroked his cock feeling the precum already coating the tip. The thought of him fucking your dainty pretty hands made him groan slightly. He shoved few knuckles into his mouth to quieten himself. He couldn’t be noticed.

You stepped into the tub allowing your body to slowly sink into it. Your tits rested on the top as you sat slightly up.

His hand moved slow as he worked himself wanting to enjoy this moment of watching you. His hand body pressed against the wall to be able to keep himself up.

Your head turned towards his direction as you stared at the wall he was hidden behind. There was an evident smirk on your face almost flirtatious as if you were looking at someone. As if you could see him.

Your hands fell down to your tits as you massaged them. You pinched your nipples and a gasp fell out of your mouth.

His hand began to fist his cock quicker as he gazed at you in disbelief. Sweat dripped off his head as he became so heated in the moment.

One of your hands dipped into the tub slightly away from his view but from the way your head rolled back, eyes squeezed shut, and a soft moan fell from your lips he could tell what you were doing. You whimpered slightly under your on touch and arched your back out of the tub.

His thoughts raced to how he wished he could have you on that bed. Back arched in the sheets, your legs over his shoulders as your thighs squeezed around his face. He’d devour you like a mad man and have you begging for him to let you cum.

He completely rested his body against the wall as he lost control. He pumped his cock hard as he watched you pleasure yourself and listened to the heavenly sound of your moans. He grinded down on in his teeth to silence himself as his strings of cum sprung from his cock. It felt never ending as he chased the end of it unable to take his eyes off of your beautiful face.

Once he finally came down, he slid his cock out of his pants and wiped his hand on the wall.

You had stopped touching yourself all of a sudden and had stepped out of the tub, your body completely dripping from the water. Your eyes darted to the same wall again and Aemond felt your eyes connect with his through the crack.

“I hope you last longer in bed,” you teased, licking your lips. “Or at least longer in my mouth.”

The way your eyes held his in an intense gaze neither of you willing to let go. The gaze dropped as you stepped out of sight making your way to your bed.

“I guess we can find out now. Come and join me old friend. I swear I don’t bite, unless you want me too.”

[harkuri]

Megumi baby mama.

IM SO SORRY IF THIS BAD THIS MY FIRST TIME AND I DODNT READ OVER IT IM SO SORRY!! So megumi was your bestfriend since elementary but until towards the end of high school, where he fucked you silly. It went like something like this….

“Fuck, y/n it’s so wet for me.. have you always felt this way for me?”

He looks at you with lust and love in his eyes he looking at you like a lover but he’s literally your childhood best friend you had a big crush on him but went to another guys to get him off your head and now you’re sitting on his lap his hand between your legs rubbing your clit.

How did you get here? You must be asking. You and your friends were out and you had this outfit on https://pin.it/1E6ZQw77C he saw you when he was with yuji and norbra but you looked at him and turned your head because you and him argued about his “girlfriend”. It really wasn’t his girlfriend but you saw it as that. Megumi always went up to you if he saw you anywhere so when he saw you and you turned your head was mad. He followed you so when your friend went to a different alley in the store he took this opportunity and dragged you out the store. You yelled at him for doing that. “ what the fuck megumi!?”

“Why did you do that?!” He just kissed you and took you to his car. He drove to his house without a word to you. The two of you get to his apartment and he drags you to his room and puts you on his lap and pull your dress and rubs your clit tough your thong. NOWW back to where we left off.

“Fuck, y/n it’s so wet for me.. have you always felt this way for me?” you whine and look him in his eyes with a tear. “Why are you doing this megumi?” You wiggle as he pinches your clit. “You think that girl is my girl? Do you?” You can barely speak do to the pleasure you’re feeling but you manage to nod your head. “Fuck.. y/n you’re the only girl I love.. I’ve loved you since middle school..” you look at him with love and affection as you hold his face and kiss him, he kisses you back with passion and pulls you closer your dripping pussy rubbing against his shirt leaving a wet spot he notices and takes off his shirt and takes off your dress “megumi wait-“ he kisses you deeply and throws you on the bed “have i told you how pretty you are yet?" he asks you, playing with your hair.

he takes your hand in his, pressing it against his hard on.

"just a little touch." he whispers in your ear. Megumi starts moving your hand up and down his length over his pants. he feels... big? he slides down his pants, revealing his throbbing boner. he's the biggest you have never seen. you gulp, there's absolutely no way you would be able to take him inside. he chuckles "it's big, isn't it?" he smirks. You wrap your hand around him. Your fingers don't even touch because of how thick he is, but you put on a poker face to not show how big it is because you’re still mad at him right?

"I’ve taken bigger." you say, smirking. You want to tease him make him feel like he's not as special as he think with his third leg in his pants.

oh yeah?" he smirks and you try not to focus on how sexy he is. Everything is so perfect in this moment, his beautiful face next to you and his precum running down his cock over your hand. "i asked yuji about you and he said you weren't able to take him even tho he's a bit smaller."

Oh shit..

your eyes go wide, why would yuji talk about this with him? but at the end of the day, they are best friends. You look away and move your legs “s-shut up..” he chuckles “baby I know you’re mad at me but no need to lie.. “ he leans down and kisses your neck and keeps going down. “Megumi.. I’m still mad at you..” he smiles and caress your sides “ I know baby.. “ he pulls up your legs and puts you in a mating press and fondling your pussy lips with his tip “mmm.. m-megumi..”

“Shhh baby” he stuffs your pussy with his thick cock “u-ugh~” you moan and he covers your mouth “shh baby..” He starts to pound into you, at one point you were just to fucked out to even make a sound so he turned you over and put you in doggie style and started to pound into you like this https://x.com/blakegarrison15/status/1756333501928931409?s=46.

After that you never doubt it his love for you. After that you two got together and moved in together and everything you went to college and he went to the same college but you remember to take a pregnancy test and you found out you’re pregnant.. so the way you’ll tell megumi, you got to the store while he’s playing the game, you get white baby onesie and gets a box and you put the onesie in the box and your pregnancy test. You get home and call him over to come the table and you give him the box. “What is this baby?” He asks accepting the box. “ just open it gumi” you say sweetly he opens it “b-baby? We’re having a baby?!” You nod as he smiles and hugs you. “my sweet baby girl.. once this baby is out I’ll fill right back up.. “ he smiles sheepishly

[wreckedandpolemic]

George taking care of aftercare one really rough and long night, I’ve never seen a George one 👀

aftercare - george daniel

(mdni) short and sweet, 861 words,

warnings: mentions of rough sex, mentions of degradation, mild sub-drop, aftercare (obvs), not proofread

You can't stop crying, wet face buried in the pillows as you listen to George moving around in the bathroom to your side. Everything hurts: your cunt is sore, your ass stings, angry red marks bite into your wrists. You still wouldn't change anything, having flown high, so high, higher than you thought was even possible, but now you're plummeting. Icarus and the sun, right?

You're still on your knees when he returns, face down, ass in the air, cum trickling wetly down your thighs. A sob wracks your shoulders and you hear him suck in a breath. “Oh, baby girl,” he says quietly, his tone a soothing balm on your strained body.

“‘M being good,” you manage, muscles trembling with the effort of holding yourself up. It’s been a long, rough night, testing the strength of your body and your mind. Low, mean words echo in your head, ricocheting with the sound of his hands colliding with your flesh. The vestiges of what used to be pleasure drip down your spine, coiling into nausea in your belly.

George places a gentle hand on your stomach, sighing quietly. “You’re being so good,” he promises. “My perfect girl. Can you lay down for me?” The praise draws a happy noise from you and you move obligingly, settling with your head back against the now-damp pillows. In this position, he can see your tear-stained face, and his expression crumples. “Oh, baby. Did I hurt you?” he asks, hands hovering above your skin like he’s afraid to touch you. His words take a second to register. “Only how I asked for it,” you reassure him. The admission, the way you wanted it, makes you feel a little sick, but the last thing you want is for George to feel guilty. “Now come here. I want cuddles.” You pout, making grabby hands at him.

“Just a minute, baby,” he says, lifting the damp washcloth in his hand into your line of vision. “Just let me clean you up first.” He wipes at your sticky thighs as tenderly as he can, petting you softly when you wince.

“Hurts,” you whimper, trying to pull your legs closed against the scrape of the fabric on your oversensitive skin. You feel like you’re sinking, slipping lower and lower into inky darkness.

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothes, kissing the insides of your knees. You can feel him smiling against your skin, golden warmth pulsing from every place his skin touches yours. It’s near-miraculous how much better something as simple as his touch can make you feel. “This is going to be the worst part, love, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, swiping the cloth through your folds. You cry out in pain as the rough fabric drags over your clit, sharp and overstimulating. George takes the cloth away from you and tosses it away somewhere, getting up to retrieve two of his shirts, throwing one on before joining you in bed.

“I love you,” you murmur sleepily, burrowing into his chest. “But I feel… I don’t know. Funny. Like, a bit dirty. Is that stupid?” you say, hiding your face to shield yourself from the embarrassment creeping up your spine.

George kisses the top of your head, big hand petting your hair affectionately. “Not stupid, baby. That’s normal. You did so well. So pretty and perfect for me. You’re my gorgeous, perfect girl, you know that, right? None of that other stuff, that mean stuff is real.” He pulls you closer, the warmth radiating from his body melting some of the nausea away. “Can you sit up for me, just for a second?” You shake your head. The idea of moving seems absolutely Herculean. Luckily for you, George might fucking well be Hercules. He lifts you like you weigh nothing, leaning you against the headboard and retrieving the spare t-shirt. “Arms up, darling,” he says, pulling the shirt over your head when you obey. You lift the hem over the bottom of your face and bury your nose in it; it smells like him.

Minutes later, the warm fingers of sleep are creeping along your back, almost pulling you under. Lingering tendrils of unease bat them away, and you twitch involuntarily. “You love me,” you say shakily, voice turning up at the end like a question.

“I love you,” George confirms. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Never doubt that, baby,” he promises, kissing every inch of your skin he can reach, one arm encircling you and the other coming up to pet your hair. You press your cheek into his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat, the soothing pulse reminding you how alive you both are. You want to sink into his chest, burrow under his skin, make a home inside him that keeps you safe and warm. A happy noise slips from your lips and his face splits in a smile. “Feeling better?”

Nodding, you yawn, catlike, curling up smaller on top of him. “I love you,” you murmur sleepily, taking one last glance at the man you love, enamoured with you, before your eyes slip closed. You’re sound asleep in minutes.

[ti-bae-rius]

Pas De Deux - Part 1: KITTY

Part 1 of my dance partners au, inspired by @teetee-ali-xo's prompt list. If people like it, I'll post part 2 and might make it a fic on Ao3 or smth. Anyway, enjoy!

The minutes tick down and, right on time, he walks in. I watch him do the same thing, twice a week; he comes in, takes off his jacket, opens his locker, shoves some stuff into his bag, taps together the toe boxes of two pointe shoes hung up on the inside of the locker door, closes and locks it, and heads into one of the studios. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

Except today.

Today, he turns to go into the same studio he always does and freezes. I crane my neck to see through the glass panel in the door. A yellow wet floor sign is propped just inside, and they aren’t joking. The whole floor is slick with water and the culprit is obvious. A big metal water pipe running along the ceiling is still dripping into buckets, onto already saturated towels on the floor. The boy stares for a couple more seconds, then heads back to the reception desk. He returns looking mutinous.

“There’s a spare studio upstairs I think,” I tell him. He’s stood there, hands wrapped around the strap of his gym bag, and looks as if he’s debating what to do. I add, “Studio 8.”

“I work in studio 5.”

“Not today you don’t.”

He glares at me and for some reason it makes me grin.

“Sorry,” I say, schooling my features back into something like a neutral expression, and stick a hand out. “Kit.”

He doesn’t take my hand but he sits down on the chair opposite me, pulling his bag onto his lap. “Ty.”

“Studio 5 not to your liking?” I ask and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s fine, I guess. But it’s not my studio.”

“A creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

He smiles a little and shrugs. “I guess so.”

“I guess? You do the same thing every day. Every day you open your locker and do the tapping thing with those pointe shoes and-“

“Then so are you,” he interrupts.

“I’m what?”

“A creature of habit.” He’s not looking at me, but I can almost hear the mischief in his eyes from the tone of his voice. “I might do the same thing every day, but you watch every day. So what does that make you?”

My cheeks burn and I turn towards the window to watch Mina. She’s doing some little jump thing and is seriously adorable. Ty follows my line of sight. 

“Is that your little sister?”

“Yeah, cute isn’t she? She’s called Mina.”

He peers through the window. “You need to tie her ballet bun properly. It’s coming out.”

“Are you for real?”

He grins. “She’s very cute.”

I roll my eyes. “So what’s your story? Why are you here?”

He looks confused. He’s slouched back in the chair, one leg resting on the other, chin in his hand. “I’m talking to you.”

“Not now,” I laugh. “I mean usually. What are you practising for?”

He glances down at his feet then, and the air between us shifts between one breath and the next. I can feel the tension all of a sudden, the way he’s deciding how much to tell me. He eventually exhales and sits up.

“A recruiter from the college I want to go to is coming to the end of year showcase, and I’m meant to be performing a duo. And I can’t.”

“I haven’t seen you practise with anyone,” I comment. I wonder if he’s going to call me out for paying so much attention to him, but it doesn’t even seem to register.

“Yeah. I haven’t been. I’ve performed with my twin sister, 5 days a week, every week, since we were 4.” 

“She quit dance?” I ask.

“She died.”

“Fuck,” I breathe, horrified. “Dude, that…I’m so sorry. You can’t perform a solo?”

“I’ve never danced alone. Besides, getting these scholarships was our dream, mine and Livvy’s. If it’s just me then…it’s not the same dream, is it? It’s not the same plan. I don’t even know if I want this anymore, but I don’t know what else to do.” He scrubs a hand through his hair and sighs. “This studio used to be the only place I didn’t have to think about everything else, all the worries and pressure. Now I can’t even focus long enough to choreograph a solo because all I can think about is how much better she made me, how much better we made each other. Besides, that scholarship is for a duo. There are too many dancers who’ve been perfecting their solo careers for years. I don’t stand a chance.” He rubs a hand across his eyes tiredly, like he’s trying to wipe the exhaustion out of them. Then he looks up and huffs a half-laugh. “Sorry. You probably only asked that to be polite. Sorry.”

“And you can’t find a new partner?” I ask, ignoring the apology. He glances back at me, a fleeting gaze, but I understand what it means: you actually care about this? And, I realise, I do. A lot. 

“Not really. Almost everyone here who dances duos has a partner already. And everyone who doesn’t is heading off to do some mainstream degree. They don’t exactly have the time - or inclination - to use those last few months before college learning a dance with the weird guy who doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“I mean, not to call bullshit but you’re talking quite a lot to me,” I point out, and he laughs. Properly laughs. It drives into my chest, right between my ribs, like a needle, pumping me full of…something like affection.

“Sorry about that. You’re kind of the first person I’ve said any of this to. But you probably want to watch your sister,” he trails off, and stands up, looking embarrassed to have unloaded all of this on me. I catch the strap of his gym bag and pull him back into his chair.

“You could teach me.”

His eyebrows furrow, confused. “What?”

“You could teach me the duo and I could stand in until you find someone who can actually dance to take my spot.”

“Have you ever danced?”

“I play a lot of DDR,” I offer. “Look, I’m here twice a week but I don’t do anything and my parents think I’m some freaky loner who’s doing to end up living in their basement forever. I’m meant to be finding a college course but this is a perfect excuse to procrastinate. As long as my parents think I’m helping someone, being productive, they’ll get off my case. So what do you say?”

He chews his lip, and for a stomach-dropping minute, I think he’s going to laugh in my face. Or worse, be insulted. Maybe he should be, some random nobody who can’t dance offering to help, to take over from his twin. His dead fucking twin. Oh my god I’m an idiot. I open my mouth to say I’m joking, that obviously I was just messing around, but he smiles and the words die on my lips.

“Okay.”

“Really?” I ask, and I’m surprised by the excitement in my voice. I guess I didn’t know how much I wanted this until, for a moment, it seemed like an impossibility.

“Really. I’d like that. Does your sister have class tomorrow?”

“No,” I say, but continue quickly. “But I can come in anyway?”

“Would you?”

I’m nodding and the genuine earnestness in my eyes is reflected back to me for just an instant as his gaze meets mine.

“Thank you, Kit. Thank you.” He’s getting to his feet, zipping his bag closed. I have to keep him here, just a second longer.

“Wait,” I say as he reaches the door. He turns back. “When Mina next has class, will you show me how to do her hair?”

His smile makes his eyes crinkle, and he nods before heading out into the streets, sliding headphones over his ears, and leaving me to wonder what on earth I just signed up for. 

[smallmight-papi]

pegging tomura

femdom!reader x tomura shigaraki

warnings: pegging, dom/sub dynamic, mommy kink, anal fingering, rim job, sub!tomura, cum eating, dacryphilia, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation

┕━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━┙

tomura shigaraki is a little pillow prince who likes to be fucked by his mommy until he’s a weeping, slobbering, brainless mess. but he’ll never admit it willingly.

he won’t admit how often he has gotten off to videos of dom/sub pegging. watching how the girl bites her lip as she slowly thrusts into her boyfriends ass, leaving her hips flush with his.

oh how tomura wished for years that was him. now it finally is, since you’ve come along. he does not mention pegging, you did first. he acted disgusted, like it was some awful degrading thing that he would never, ever do. but you saw right through his little act. you saw how a tent began to form in his pants, how his breathing hitched and started to pick up speed. his check were flushed a deep cherry red.

you both were laying back in your shared bed, your hands slowly working your way up his black shirt, feeling the ripples of his abs along the way and the raised scars he had littered across his chest. the feeling of your fingertips against his cold pale skin made him shiver.

slowly but surely, you made your way further down. past the waistband of his sweats before dipping under the taut band. tomura expected your hands to wrap around his cock, but they never did. they worked their way past his cock, past his balls, to his tight untouched hole.

he wanted to let his pride get the best of him and stop you. but deep down he wanted this, ached for this. to have your little fingers knuckle deep in his ass made his cock throb. so he didn’t stop you. he let you experiment by licking your finger and pressing the wet digit slowly into his hole

tomura let out a small whimper, a fire burned deep in his lower belly. he hadn’t felt so much arousal in his life and you were barely inside him yet. your finger worked it’s way in, deeper and deeper before it finally was in all the way.

“ does that feel good tomura? “ you asked him, looking up at him from where your head lay on his chest. your eyes boring into his, his eyes were blown out with lust. he hesitated before quietly answering.

“ y-yes, please keep going “ he spoke, barely above a whisper. when you stalled for a moment he involuntarily pushed his hips down, trying to press your finger deeper, pushing into his prostate.

he let out a choked moan, moving back and forth on your finger, letting it rub up against his neglected g-spot. why didn’t he think to bring this up? he scolded himself for being so childish.

you continued your assault on his sweet spot, adding another finger making his mouth fall agape. high pitched whines leaving his cracked lips, hips violently rutting against your hands, silently begging for more.

“tsk tsk, who would’ve known you were such a disgusting little boy hm? getting off on mommy’s fingers. such a dumb little baby.” you purred, making him screw his eyes shut trying to stop himself for cumming in his pants. your degrading made him yearn for more, he wanted to be mommy’s dumb, pathetic little boy forever.

“ mommy please, i need more. I’ll do whatever you want just please do something” tomura begged, desperation thick in his voice. somehow making it sound more cracked.

you shushed him quietly before pulling down his pants the rest of the way, letting him kick them off onto the floor before immediately turning over on his tummy, knowing exactly what he wants mommy to do to him.

you smirk to yourself, loving how eager your little boy is. you wrap your hands under his thighs, pulling them up so he’s on his knees, face down ass up. tomura expected you to continue fingering his little hole. what he did not expect was to feel the wet muscle of your tongue on him.

his breath loudly hitched, his cock bobbing as it twitched. he couldn’t believe himself, his perfect, gorgeous mommy was licking his desperate tight hole. he didn’t know what he did to deserve this but he was in no way wanting you to stop. all he wanted was for you to make him feel good.

“t-thank you mommy! oh- my god thank you!!” tomura choked out, barely able to speak thanks to the waves of immense pleasure wracking his body, making him jerk and twitch against your tongue.

drool poured out of his open mouth, smearing all over the pillow his head was rested on. his fingers digging into the bedsheets, if he were to die right now, he would die a happy man.

your tongue pushed into his velvety walls, making his legs shake. tomura felt like he was about to cry, he was so overwhelmed with pleasure and you were just using your tongue.

he choked on his breath, reaching down to rub the tip of his cock, which was an angry red. precum dripping onto the bedsheets below him. he had to stop himself instantly. just one small touch to his cock was going to make him cum too soon.

after playing with his ass you decide it’s time for the main course. you reach under the bed. grabbing the shoe box filled with special toys that tomura did not know about. he leaned around, drool still apparent on his check.

“wait w-what’s that mommy??” he said panicked. what were you planning to do to him? although he was nervous, the idea of you torturing him, his cock, and his ass for hours made him leak even further.

“it’s a strap on baby, I’ve seen your search history little boy. i know how badly you want mommy to stretch out that tight ass of yours around her cock, isnt that right?” you spoke confidently as you placed on the strap. you had this planned for weeks. you knew what you were doing.

tomura whined loudly. arousal apparent in his tone. he just wanted to be fucked. to be abused by his mommy until he can’t walk. until he’s screaming and crying for her to stop.

“please fuck me mommy. please” he said quietly. hoping you would just do it already. he was gonna cry if you didn’t put your cock in him within the next 10 seconds.

before he could get another word out he felt the sweet stretch of his ass, his hole being filled with a thick, long toy. his tongue lolled out of his mouth, eyes rolling back into his head.

you hadn’t even gotten all 8 inches in before he was cumming. hot, sticky semen shot out onto the bedsheets below him. spurt after spurt coating the cotton blankets. he cried softly, as he continued to let all of it out.

“im so sorry mommy, i couldn’t help it. it felt so good having you stretch out my virgin ass” tomura cried. hoping you would forgive him. but you can’t.

“little boys dont cum without mommy’s permission. looks like im just gonna have to keep going huh?” you said in a stern tone that made him shake.

“keep going? wha- AH!” he screamed loudly as you started pounding in and out of him. the toy balls deep in his ass, watching as his hole clenched around the dildo.

tears poured down his face, drool still dripping out of his mouth. begs, whimpers, screams and moans falling between his lips as you relentlessly overstimmed his g-spot.

you knew he was close again, it never took him much to cum since he’s always been so touch starved, you reached around and began to stoke his cock in slow long pumps.

soon enough his legs began to shake again as he started to sob loudly.

“mommy don’t! please! it- my cock- hurts!” he choked out. you continued to stroke, ignoring his pathetic pleas.

tomura began cumming again, this time so loudly your sure if everyone didn’t hear him before, they heard him now. his screams were guttural at first before turning into whimpering that made him sound like a hurt puppy dog.

you looked underneath him at the sheets, which were now coated with his sticky cum. there was so much.

you used your spare fingers to scoop up as much of the cum as you can before using your opposite hand to pull his head up by his periwinkle locks and shoving the cum-soaked fingers in his mouth.

he groaned and gagged from the taste of his own juices. but he couldn’t help the arousal it made him feel having his mommy force feed him his ejaculate.

“now what do we say little tomura?”

“thank you mommy”

[jarofstyles]

138 !!!! with best friend harry

SPICY SPICY

______

“Were you just…. Masturbating?”

Harry’s face was flushed. Skin glowy and he was hidden haphazardly under the covers. She hadn’t knocked, having never knocked, but he must have heard her footsteps as she walked up.

Now… anyone with manners or common decency wouldn’t have mentioned it. No, they’d either excuse themselves or move on. But Y/N didn’t have good boundaries when it came to Harry, and she was a curious little thing. Too curious for her own good.

“Christ. Y’can’t knock and y’dont have a filter to save your life.” He rolled his eyes in disbelief, groaning as he hid his eyes under his arm. I didn’t help that the subject of the fantasies he had been rudely pulled from had walked in, not naked and not bouncing on his thick cock. It was rude, if you asked him.

“Oh, hush.” She giggled, laughing harder as Harry scrambled back as she crawled up on the bed with him.

“Oi! What the fuck are y’doin, love?” He laughed nervously, cock still pulsing under the covers. Y/N was fearless and he knew that, but they’d never gotten this close. Sure, they spoke about sex and were close physically but this was…. Something else entirely.

“Relax, H. M’just getting comfortable. You don’t have to stop on my account.” She actually was nervous. Heart beating fast. But it was the best idea she had. She needed to get over this hurdle. And she was so curious about it, she needed to see him. If he was comfortable… she would want it.

“Y’want…. You want to watch?” He said slowly, trying to understand. His cock throbbed in betrayal of his confusion, aching to be touched again.

“Mhm. If you’re okay with that, though.” She leaned in next to him and placed her cheek against his shoulder. “I haven’t seen a guy do it. And I’ve always wanted to see yours. Y’act like it’s big.” She laughed, eyes curiously peeking at the bulge under the covers.

“Uh… okay. It won’t be weird?” He asked again, making sure she wouldn’t be weirded out. Of course it had been his idea, and he had been close to orgasm so he was eager to get back into the groove of it. The idea of her watching made him even more horny, but again… he was cautious.

“Mhm, it’ll be fine, H. You’re being silly.Let’s see.” She urged, stroking her fingers over his arm. Comforting to her, arousing to him. She listened to him take a breath, and slowly lowered the comforter back down.

Her eyes widened. It was… big. Bigger than she had ever experienced. And it was…. It was hot. Thick, red tip glistening, her mouth watered a bit as she wondered how the precum dripping from the slit would taste like. Or how it would feel to have it throbbing against her tongue as she stroked it.

It wasn’t the first time she had these thoughts. But the first time truly seeing what she would be working with.

“Wow…” her breath voice went straight to his stomach. “You’ve got a right to be cocky.” He wrapped his hand around it after those words, squeezing himself at the base. It was so nice to have her looking at him. A breathless laugh left him as he shook his head.

“Thanks, petal.” He murmured. His best friend watched as he gave himself a few strokes, lulling his head back. Her cheek pressed against his bicep, watching intently as his thumb rubbed over the slit. He hadn’t expected her to speak, though.

“How’s it feel?” She whispered, stroking over the back of his wrist. The hand was free, and she was touchy. “Is it good?” Her face tilted up to look at him.

“Feels really good, yeah.” He licked his lip, breathing getting heavier. “Was at a good place when y’came in.” He laughed. The strokes were slow and steady, her eyes going back to the length. Her thighs clenched together, imagining how good that much cock would feel filling her up.

“M’sorry.” She whispered. “I’ll help.” He was shocked when he watched her lean up, bending close to his length and pursing her lips. He gasped when a string of spit dropped down, dripping on to the tip and over to meet his fingers. He nearly whimpered, the idea of her spit coating him a lot to process.

“Oh, fuck.” He cursed, throwing his head back when she did it again. This time using her hand to brush the hair out of her face and giving him a clear view of the saliva dripping from her lip and stringing from her bottom lip to the tip of his cock. “My god, Y/N.” He whined, lifting his hand up and breaking the spit from her bottom lip.

She laid back down, chest throbbing in time with the beat between her leg. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt you.” She licked her still wet bottom lip, watching his fist stroke faster now. “It looks…. Really nice.”

Her words were hesitant but he could hear the genuine tone. And the bit of arousal, at least he hoped Thats what it was. Testing his luck, he spoke back.

“Yeah? Y’like watching me get off, petal?” He asked, turning his face to look at her. Her eyes glued to his cock, dark. Legs clenched together, her hand holding his wrist while the other strokes up and down. The new slick and wet sound her spit had added to the strokes only added to his new arousal.

“Uh huh…” she was breathless, nuzzling her cheek against his arm. Suddenly shy, she was aroused and wet, but so focused on the filthy sight in front of her she could barely move.

“Didn’t know you were dirty like that.” He spoke quietly. Waiting. The little shift she did and slight tiny whimper cluing him in to knowing that this was effecting her just as much. “Do ya’ think you could do me a favor?”

Pushing the limits. He knew it. But he was so beyond horny, so hard and aching and she was giving him all of this beautiful material… he couldn’t help but push for more and more and more. It was her idea, after all.

“Yeah. Yah- I can.” She whispered with wide eyes. His hand was working himself steadily and she was doing her best to not show how worked up she was. But she couldn’t help it.

“Kay…. Can y’dip those fingers in between your legs…. N’lemme taste?” He breathed. “Don’t have to if y’dont want to. Promise. Just…. Want to taste it. I just sent t’taste it, M’not gonna last long, sweetheart.” He pleaded. Needing to taste her and see if what he imagined was what she was.

Y/N nodded, her own breathing picking up as she snuck her fingers under the band of her lounge shorts. A soft moan left her throat, guiding the fingers up her soaked slit and bumping over her clit. The image of her hand in her pants and her little noise made his orgasm approach sooner, a simple Christ spilling from his lips as he watched.

“Are you wet?” His voice was a deep, dark tone she hadn’t ever heard before. Her head tilted back and her glazed over eyes met his as she nodded, hips chasing her hand as she stroked over her swollen, needy clit again and circled a few times. “Good girl. Let me have my taste.” His words weren’t a suggestion anymore, and it only made her even more eager.

Tugging her fingers out, his spare hand guided her wrist to his mouth and immediately, he brought them between his lips. Closing them around the smaller digits, the sweet, tangy taste of her cunt coating his tongue as he dragged it between the two. It was even. Better than he imagined, a dark moan escaping his chest as he stroked himself harder. Thrusting into his hand, he sucked her fingers clean, Every single digit, even brushing his tongue over her palm to get any he missed.

“Fucking sweet. Fuck, M’gonna cum.” He panted. “Gonna cum with that taste all over my fucking tongue. You’re unreal.” He slurred, mouth dropping open as she took her hand that was slick with his spit and her taste, knocking his own hand off. The confidence swelled in her at his reaction to how she tasted, wrapping her smaller fist around him.

“Go ahead. Fuck my hand. Cum on it.” Her lips brushed his jaw. “S’a good boy, Harry. Come on. S’so soft around you, isn’t it?” She purred, pressing her body into his side. He let out a whimper, nodding as his lips parted again.

“Yes, yes, petal. Feels so good, oh god baby… M’gonna cum.” He panted, hips thrusting into her hand she held tightly around him. “Oh, feels… shit, it’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” He babbled, dizzy with incoming orgasm.

“Go ahead. Cum. Such a pretty cock, S’a honor to have it in my hand.” Her lips puckered just a bit against his stubbly jawline. “Cum for me, Harry.” She nuzzled against him with a slight nip and he was done for.

He let out a deep groan, cock throbbing and finally going over the edge. Coating her hand and his stomach with sticky cum, he fucked his pick into her soft hand and held her wrist to him until he was too sensitive, pulling it off. His head swimming in orgasm, heat and pure bliss.

His face turned to meet her lapping his cum off her hand, humming as she did so. And that’s when Harry realized he was completely screwed. This fantasy about his best friend… wasn’t just fantasy anymore.

[buckyhoney-library]

𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲, 𝐛.𝐛

a/n: i had to turn this into a whole ass blurb/one shot, this is different than anything that i've written in the past.

reblogs/likes/feedback is greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! However, do NOT steal/repost ANY of my fics!

18+ warning

Warnings: 18+, no plot- just porn, dubcon, age gap (early/mid 20's), stepdad!bucky, dom!bucky, sub!reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, innocent kink, corruption kink, breeding kink, fingering, oral (f), masturbation (f), sorry for any missed typos!

Word Count: 2.2k

Chills spread over the surface of your body- his fingers trace along the tops of your shoulder and up your neck- stopping at your jaw. The sound of his breathing is the only thing you can hear. His clothed chest presses against your back- his crotch flush with your ass.

Having another body so close and pressed against you is foreign.

Nerves bundle in your stomach as his fingers slide up the sides of your waist, stopping right before your breast- cupping them through the thin fabric of your tank top. Your sensitive nipples pebble and poke through the tank top.

A surprised gasp falls from your lips, he chuckles into your ear.

That tank top is what landed you here with your breasts being groped and messaged. Bucky had gotten fed up with you wandering around the house with tiny clothing that barely covers your most intimate areas.

With the innocence of what such clothing does to a man, you thought nothing of it- as it’s been warmer outside, and you needed to cool off.

“Daddy…” Breathlessly whining, your core began to tingle- something that has been happening more often.

Humming, Bucky moves the strands of floral-smelling hair to the side- exposing your neck. Pressing soft pecks along the base of your neck, he trails up to the bottom of your ear.

“Honey, have you ever played with your special place?” Your shoulders tense.

The rough callused palm roamed over your tummy, stopping at the band of the muted pink pajama shorts.

Bucky knew the answer. He heard the soft muffled moans and whimpers that come from your bedroom. This sparked curiosity.

Through the crack of the door, Bucky witnessed the sinful act of your hips rolling on your stuffies.

Accidently grinding against one of your bear’s nose in the middle of the night was the act that started the exploration of your body. You knew that what you were doing wasn’t allowed- but the feeling you got when you grind your clit into the face of the teddy was unlike anything you’ve experienced before.

The first orgasm you had took you by surprise, drenching your favorite teddy in your juices.

From that night forward, your fingers exploded the sensitive bud and the aching hole.

When your fingers weren’t enough, you teased your needy clit with the hard nose of your teddy. The simulation became addicting and masturbating with your teddy became a daily occurrence.

Tweaking your nipples and toying your clit are acts that you knew would get you in a world of trouble- if you caught by your mother. So, you kept the touching and teasing for when she went to work- but you had no idea that this whole time you had an audience for your private sessions.

Breasts swaying, nipples barely grazing the sheets, and the sight of the light brown teddy bear, that he gifted to you for your birthday, stimulating your clit- left Bucky no option but to stroke himself in the hallway.

Praying silent prayers that his wife wouldn’t catch him cumming in his hand to his precious stepdaughter.

Overtaken with the pleasure, your grasp on your teddy’s head tightens as the rocking of your hips became more aggressive. Simulation from the nose on your clit becoming too much for you to bear. The sounds fell from your lips like honey off a spoon- Bucky could listen to your whimpers on a continuous loop.

Your eyes flutter shut as your mouth jaw fall opens- this time, no sound comes out. The overwhelming wave of intense pleasure washing over you- causing your body to twitch and your eyes roll back.

Bucky became addicted to the beautiful sight in front of him, he watched you explore your body almost every day.

“Yes.” Heat flushed your cheeks, and you look down at his fingers playing with the strings.

“Do you want Daddy to touch your special place?” Bucky’s breath is hot on your neck.

The question made the heartbeat between your legs grow louder. All you could manage to do is nod. The sensation of your nipples mixed with the hot breath on your neck put you under a spell.

You knew that Bucky shouldn’t be touching you, but you wanted his fingers to play with your cunt- knowing he could make you feel better than any of your teddy’s.

“Has anyone else ever played with you?” Embarrassed, you shake your head.

The answer makes his cock twitch and harden. Bucky dreamed of being the first one who gets to stretch your tight hole. The first one to feel how sweet you tasted as your dripped with arousal- The image of your cunt swallowing his cock has made him cum too many times to count.

“How honored I am to be the one to ruin your innocence.”

The grip on your breasts moved to your hips, leaving your assaulted breasts sore. Twisting your hips, forcing them to turn to face him. Your doe-eyed expression only made Bucky’s cock throb.

Guiding your shaking fingers to his cock, Bucky's eyes are mesmerized at the innocence beginning to drain from your body.

The yelp that you made from the feeling of his erect cock- makes him chuckle.

“Don’t be scared, Honey- Daddy is gonna be gentle with you before I stuff you full of my cock.” The fallen piece of hair is moved ever so gently from your cheek.

The adrenaline soaring through your veins and dampening panties gives you a confidence boost, you squeeze him.

A low groan from Bucky causes you to giggle and your eyes light up. Bucky smiles, tilting your chin upward. He plants a small kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“See, little one? You made Daddy feel good- do you want Daddy to make you feel good too?” The softness in his voice relaxes your tense shoulders, trusting that you’re in good hands.

Heat rises in your cheeks at the taboo question, you nod anyway.

“Use your words. Tell Daddy exactly what you want him to do to your special place,” His fingers slide down the thin strap of the tank top, stopping at the base. Your mouth runs dry as he traces the tank top, circling over your nipple.

“I want your cock… inside me…” The request takes Bucky back- thinking you’d ask for your clit to be played with.

“Oh, little one… I’m too big for your little cunt, I have to stretch you out first.” Forming a pout, you frown.

“I promise, Daddy is gonna fill you up real nice, okay? How about you show me how you play with yourself, yeah?” Still pouting, you nod.

Motioning to your bed, you sit on the edge of the bed. Bucky takes a seat on the small ottoman next to the bed.

Tugging the ends of your tank top upward, your breasts drop. An incoherent mumble escapes past Bucky’s lips as his legs spread. The self-control that his exhibiting by not shoving his cock down your throat is astounding.

His flustered reaction causes you to giggle. Leaning back to the bed, you slide off the pajama shorts. The clothing is discarded to the floor beside you.

Legs spread wide, you let one hand play with your nipples, and the other slide down to your glistening cunt.

“You’re so wet, honey- I can see you dripping from here,” Bucky’s palm is over his bugle, messaging himself through his pants.

Hips dig down at the relief from your touch, sliding your fingers between your folds. The juices coat your fingers, you bring them to your mouth- closing your lips around them, sucking off your arousal. Bucky is in disbelief from how natural it was for you to taste yourself and how comfortable you were playing with your cunt in front of him. He begins to fiddle with his zipper.

Your light breathy whimpers fill the room as your fingers toy with your clit.

Bucky’s fingers wrap around himself, slowly stroking himself- attempting to process the breathtaking sight of your cunt on full display.

Your hips buck into your fingers, while whimpers beginning to recklessly fall from your mouth.

Blindly reaching around for your stuffie to grind your now swollen clit into, but instead, feel a pair of calloused palms on your inner thighs.

“Couldn’t take it anymore- I need to taste that cunt for myself.” The sound that leaves your mouth surprises both of you as you feel his mouth attack your cunt.

His tongue dragging all over your cunt, licking up all the juices. The new sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before- the way his tongue flicked your clit and lapped up your fallen juices pulled you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck. I’ve never seen such a stunnin’ pussy before, honey” Bucky can’t stop himself.

The moment your hips began to squirm, and the squeals and whimpers fall from your lips- his forearm holds your tummy down. Bucky wants to savor every last bit of you. The pad of his finger glides over the moist fold, examining you up close.

“Gotta see how tight you are,” He inserts his middle finger.

Curling in them in, grazing your g-spot. The force on your tummy enhances the pleasure building.

“Oh, honey- Daddy needs to stretch your little cunt,” The ring finger joins the middle, sending you flying into a euphoric state.

Bucky pumps his arousal-coated fingers, growing in speed. You ball the sheets in your fists, bucking your hips into his fingers.

“Please Daddy!” You choke pathetically.

“Please what? You need to cum?” You can barely manage to nod as you feel the lower half of your body become weak.

“I need you to tell me with your words.” You’ve entered another world and your fingers desperately try to unhook his grasp on your tummy.

“I can’t hold it- Daddy, please let me cum all over your fingers!” Proud of how quickly you’re learning his rules, he grants your wish.

Twitching and bucking aimlessly, you are overwhelmed with the shockwaves of pleasure that are soaring through every nerve of your body. Bucky continues to stretch your pussy, curling his fingers into your g-spot.

Another wave of pleasure takes you, you're blinded by who powerful it is- no sound comes from you, body silently convulsing.

“I’m so proud of you, honey. Can’t wait to ruin you with my cock,” Bucky discarded the rest of his clothes, dropping them with the others.

Regaining your vision and the rest of your senses, you met with his cock looking right at you- angry, swollen, and dripping with precum.

“See what that pussy does to me?” He chuckles, watching your eyes go wide and chest rise.

“I’ll be gentle,” He coos, kneeling down, placing a tender kiss on the top of your heat.

The confidence you once had vanishing as he grabs hold of himself. His cock throbbing against your folds as he slides his tip up and down.

Your moans don’t sound human as his tip finally enters you. The grunts match your moans. The tightness of your walls around Bucky catches him off guard. His fingers were nothing compared to his girth and length.

“Daddy- you’re too big for me I can’t-“ Tears form in the corners of your eyes the further he pushes himself.

“I’ll make it fit, ‘m filling you up.” With one swift motion, his pelvis flushes with your thighs.

The sweet sound of your cries and the instinct to pull off him- turns him feral. Bucky’s palms spread your thighs out, keeping them from pulling away from him.

“Don’t pull away. You’re doing such a good job,” Each thrust releases an animalistic sound from you, your body feeling numb with bliss.

Bucky feels your body relax completely, opening you up more, granting him the ability to go deeper. Turning into his fuck toy, you’re a babbling whimpering mess. You’ve lost vision and the ability to form words.

After being stuffed inside you, there is no way that Bucky going to be able to use his hand again. There is no replicating your cunt- how tight, warm, or the sounds you made.

“Daddy is so close, little one. Do you want Daddy to fill you up? Want him to stuff you full of his cum?” Bucky’s voice almost mocking how pathetic you look you’re your breasts bouncing, and your body paralyzed by his cock.

“Fill me, p-please!” You cry through the pleasure and pain.

Bucky’s palm presses on your tummy, increasing the pleasure of his cock ramming into you. Bucky’s foul curses and strings of praises of how amazing your cunt feels around him sound muffled to you.

As he presses on your tummy, he can feel himself filling you through your tummy. You cry out in pure bliss, desperately trying to move your hips from the sensitivity. The third wave crashing into you and wrecking you completely.

“Oh, look at that! Look at all my cum inside you,” Once he removes himself from you, your body twitched.

Bucky can���t take his eyes off of your cunt, cum dripping out of your abused hole. You’re laying heaving on the bed, processing all the pleasure rushing through you.

“I’m so proud of you,” Bucky lays next to you, tracing patterns on your tummy, bringing you down from your high.

Bucky grabs the towel from the hook, opening your shaking thighs. He wipes away the spilled cum. Still sensitive you whimper at the contact of the towel. Bucky peppers kisses around your inner thighs and on your tummy.

“Thank you for letting me ruin this pretty pussy,”

taglist: @hunter-of-baker-street @ifeelloved @freshluiana @multiplums

[childeaether]

venus.

cw: 18+ only, xiao/f!reader, law school au, enemies to lovers, rough sex, dumbification, degradation

wc: 2.5k

it was getting late. well, it got late about two hours ago. now midnight was approaching at an annoyingly fast rate. you were exhausted, xiao was irritable, and the report was nowhere near done. it was a miracle that no one had come by to lock up the study room for the night.

“this case doesn’t make any sense,” you griped, typing aggressively on your laptop. xiao sighed.

“you’ve said that three times in the last thirty minutes. i get it,” he said flatly. you shot him a look. your professor had to be some kind of sadist. you and xiao had hated each other since the first day of class. rarely did a lecture go by without the two of you arguing- whether it was about law or the color of the sky.

“read this,” you said, turning your laptop towards him. his eyes narrowed as he read over the report, which you’d rewritten twice now. he shook his head as he approached the end.

“your reasoning doesn’t make any sense. you’re just mentioning another case to make the holes in your argument look smaller,” he said. “and the fuck does the implied powers have to do with anything?”

you snatched your laptop back. “at least i’m putting ideas out there. you’ve been rereading it for, like, forty five minutes.”

he rolled his eyes. “right. why analyze the case to further understand it when you could just spew bullshit and pray something is right?”

you groaned in frustration. “this case is at least a century old. you’re not supposed to ‘further understand it.’ the whole point of the assignment is torture us mentally.”

“the whole point of the assignment is to challenge us,” he shot back, “something you will have to get used to if you want a fucking law career.”

you slammed your laptop shut. “i get it, you think i’m stupid-”

“i don’t think you’re stupid, i think you’re fucking lazy.”

you snorted, but there was no humor in it. “i’m lazy, but you haven’t written shit. got it.”

he stood. “listen, i’m sorry that you weren’t paired with your little boyfriend, but-”

“my little boyfriend?” you said, incredulous. “what are you even talking about?” you got to your feet, too. the two of you were ticking time bombs, trapped in each other’s space. as always.

“that ginger you sit next to. don’t act like i’m wrong,” he snapped, “you two are so fucking obvious.”

you laughed in disbelief. “jesus christ, you are such an asshole. his name is childe. you’ve known him an entire semester-”

xiao cut you off, “you’re unbearable around him. that stupid high pitched giggle you do? it gives me a fucking headache-”

“laughing at his jokes means i’m fucking him?” you didn’t even realize that you’d raised your voice.

“you dumb yourself down for him,” xiao said. “it’s infuriating. you can have anyone you want, why do you settle for that moron?”

“i’m not settling for him,” you hissed, “i don’t even talk to him outside of class! and so what if i fucking was? god forbid someone likes me, right? just because you hate me doesn’t mean the rest of the world does.”

something in his eyes changed. you suddenly realized how close your faces were. you must’ve gotten closer as your tempers escalated.

“you are stupid,” he said, softly. before your rage took hold, he continued, “i.. don’t hate you.”

you scoffed. “yeah, right,” you said, starting to back away. his hand caught your shoulder, gentle but firm. the earth stopped turning. he’d never looked at you like this before. like you were more than a nuisance. much more.

it clicked. oh.

“what did you mean by.. what you said a second ago?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “that i.. can ‘have anyone i want?’” your heart was beating fast, and it wasn’t caused by rage, this time.

for a moment, xiao looked vulnerable. “we don’t have to talk about this,” he whispered. “i know that we argue a lot, and i know that i can be a dick, but- i don’t hate you. i don’t.”

your heart was caught in your throat. “how do you feel about me?” you breathed.

his cheeks reddened. he clearly wasn’t used to being emotionally vulnerable, especially in front of you. “it’s complicated,” he said. “it’s not necessarily how i feel about you, but how you make me feel.”

a small smile creeped onto your lips. “well.. what are you involuntarily feeling?”

your smile seemed to relax him, if only slightly. he sighed. “i’ve been asking myself the same question for months. i mean, you always annoyed me- especially in the beginning. but, as time went on, i don’t know.. i started noticing little things.

“like the look in your eye when you’re winning an argument. or the one when you’re losing. how you bite your lip when you’re focused on something..” he trailed off. he looked up, finally meeting your eyes.

“like i said, it’s complicated,” he murmured. “but whatever i was feeling was.. warm. pleasant, even if i didn’t want it to be. then, you started hanging out with that childe guy, and these feelings went from warm to… hot. like a, a burning sensation, in my chest.”

just thinking about it seemed to frustrate him. “he made you laugh. you didn’t look at him like you wanted to kill him. i mean, you liked him. and i couldn’t stand it, because-”

he cut himself off, trying to muster up the courage to say whatever was about to come next. “i couldn’t stand that you would never see me the way you saw him.” his breathing was shaky. it made your heart ache.

your faces were so close.

“it drives me insane,” he continued. “you drive me insane. and i just want to-”

you cut him off, capturing his lips in a desperate, long-awaited kiss. he jumped at first, shocked, but melted into it before too long. his hands found themselves on your hips, gripping them firmly. pulling you closer to him. you tangled your fingers in his hair, relishing in the deep groan that escapes him when you tug on the strands.

he bit your lip as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. you whined and gasped for breath. you brought a hand to his cheek, brushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” you whispered. his fingers dug into your waist.

“you’re not fucking childe?” he said. god, his eyes.

you shook your head.

“good.”

just like that, he was on you again. the kiss was rougher this time, hotter. teeth nipped at lips, tongues prodded at one another, hands made their way up your shirt. xiao pulled away briefly to remove it. he pushed you up against the desk as his lips chased yours once again. you had no objections, dizzy with lust.

he shoved a thigh between your legs and you moaned as he pressed it against you.

“god, look at you,” he whispered, his teeth against your neck. he moved his thigh, and you couldn’t stop your hips from grinding against it. there was an almost sinister look in his eye. it was sadistic, but adoring. your heart was fluttering in your chest.

“aw, baby,” he cooed, “i’ve hardly touched you. do you really need it that bad?” that condescending tone did something to you. a familiar fog was starting to form in your head. “i guess i should’ve seen this coming. smart girls like you love to be turned into dumb sluts in bed, right?”

a shiver ran down your spine. before you could respond, he moved his ground his thigh against you. an embarrassingly high pitched noise escaped your throat. “yeah, that’s what i thought,” xiao teased, sinking his teeth into your collarbone. your nails dug into his shoulder.

suddenly, he pulled away. you whined pitifully at the loss of contact, but the disappointment didn’t last long. your heart skipped a beat as you realized xiao had pulled away to take off his belt. that fog was getting hard to ignore.

he noticed you staring. “bend over the desk,” he commanded, “and hike up your skirt for me.”

as if your panties weren’t soaked enough before.

nervously, you bent yourself over the desk and pulled your skirt up, exposing the silk panties you had on underneath. they were genuinely comfortable. xiao picked a good day to confess.

you heard him inhale sharply behind you, taking you in. “fuck,” he whispered, running a hand up your thigh. you couldn’t help but squirm. “you’re already so wet i can see it through your panties. does it turn you on when i tell you what to do?”

two fingers traced the outline of your pussy over your panties. “or maybe it was the ‘dumb slut’ part, hmm?”

you moaned helplessly, wriggling your hips. “xiao, please,” you begged, “hurry up, i- i want it.”

“be patient,” he replied. you felt lips press against your inner thigh. your skin felt like it was on fire, his lips burning a trail everywhere they touched. you whimpered and squirmed, desperate.

“please, just- fucking get on with it,” you cried. your cunt was aching. you’d imagined xiao fucking you on shameful, lonely nights. especially on days like this, when the two of you had been at each other’s throats. and now it was here. real.

“god, please-”

“shut the fuck up, slut, or i’ll rip these panties off and gag you with them,” he growled. the fog won. you felt yourself melt into the desk, into submission. your hips stilled, and you bit your lip to keep from whining. every second that passed felt like a lifetime.

finally, he pulled your panties down, exposing your dripping sex. you gasped at the sensation of cold air against you. it only made you feel hotter.

he ran his middle and index finger up and down your folds, maddeningly slow. god, it was hard to keep quiet. you could hardly think about anything but xiao, xiao’s fingers, xiao’s dick.

you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning out loud when his fingers began to circle your clit. they were slow and gentle; you needed them to be more.

“you’re so beautiful,” xiao whispered. you hung on to his every word. “i want to take my time with you, and i promise i will, later.. but right now, i can’t help myself.” he took your wrists into one hand, holding them behind your back. he leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, “i’m going to fuck you senseless.”

you cried out as he plunged two fingers inside you, thrusting in and out roughly. it was a relief, but it wasn’t enough. you tried to grind your hips onto his fingers to no avail. “and you’re going to take what i give you, aren’t you, baby?” he said, kissing a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear.

“because you’re my good, stupid slut.” he added a third finger and curled them inside you, finally hitting the sweet spot he’d been searching for. you let out a low moan at the sensation. “you think you’re so smart, but look at you. trying to fuck yourself on my fingers. if i’d known this is all it takes to shut you up, i would’ve done this a long time ago.”

you mumbled out a pathetic, incoherent moan. you couldn’t even argue with him, you were so desperate.

“it’s okay, pretty girl,” he whispered. “i’ve got you. i’ll give you what you want. you just have to ask.”

you knew what that meant. “please,” you begged, “please- fuck me, xiao! i want it so bad, i’m so..” you trailed off, trying to hang on to your train of thought as he twisted his fingers inside you. your sentence became a string of incoherent please’s.

luckily for you, xiao was nearing the limit of his control. “good girl,” he said. you heard shuffling behind you as he positioned himself, the tip of his cock pressing against the entrance to your cunt. his grip on your wrists tightened. “take a deep breath, baby.”

he thrust his hips forward and finally, he was inside you. it stung at first, but you adjusted quickly. when he felt you relax, he pulled your wrists toward him, using them as leverage to better fuck into you.

“oh, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you moaned, relishing in the feeling of him brushing against your g-spot. every thrust had you seeing stars.

“fuck, you feel so good,” xiao hissed, picking up the pace. he pressed kisses down your spine. “so pretty, such a good girl. you like being fucked rough like this, baby? is this what you needed?”

you let out another string of whimpers, nodding desperately. “it’s so good,” you slurred, “i’m close.”

he released your wrists to grab your forearm, pulling you up, against his chest. this angle was somehow better than the last, directly targeting that sweet spot he’d only been brushing before. “oh, yes! right there!” you cried.

xiao let out a growl, fucking you harder than before. “that’s right, you stupid slut. fucking take it,” he snarled, biting into your neck. “you wanna cum?”

you nodded feverishly, no longer bothering to quiet the little noises he forced out of you with each thrust. “yes, god, please,” you begged, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your back, thrusting inside you again without missing a beat. you grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to stay grounded. “tell me what you are,” he said, hardly louder than a whisper.

your cheeks were burning. you knew what he meant. in any other circumstance, you would’ve fought him on it, or at least tried to. but you’d never had dick this good in your life. you weren’t about to disobey him.

a thumb hovered above your clit. “tell me what you are,” he repeated, his gaze unwavering. you couldn’t resist him if you tried.

“i’m a dumb slut!” you cried, tears running freely now. he brought his thumb down, rubbing in time with his quick, rough thrusts. your eyes rolled back as you came, cunt clenching down desperately, legs shaking around his waist.

xiao was quick to follow, cumming inside you with a low, gravelly groan as he pulled your hips against him. you whined at the feeling.

as he came down, he pressed his lips to yours again, much gentler than he had earlier. you kissed him back, slowly gathering your bearings.

when you pull away, he peppers your cheeks with light kisses. “you were so good,” he whispered, “so good for me.” you hummed happily, capturing his lips once more.

he pulled out of you, much to your dismay. before you could demand another round, you were hit with a sudden realization. “oh, fuck,” you said, frantically pulling your shirt over your head.

his eyes widened and he put a hand on your arm. “what is it? what’s wrong?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. it was a cute look on him.

“the fucking case report,” you grumbled.

he grinned and gently tugged you back to his chest. “don’t worry. i can fix your half in, like, thirty minutes.”

you shot him an annoyed but amused look. “you’re an asshole,” you said. he pressed a kiss to your nose.

“you love it,” he replied.

and you did.

[chippedaxe]

Could you do hcs of the characters fucking ur throat? And could I be 🕶 anon? <3 tysm

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Title: Throat fucking hc's

Warnings: NSFW (Minors DNI), Sub reader, gagging, praise, degrading, hair pulling, bit of rope bunny content, degrading names like slut are used. (Unedited)

Pronouns: They/Them, non specified genitalia.

Synopsis: The mcyt's fuck your throat.

Word count: 1.3k

Note: Hi anons! I hope that its alright that I put both of your asks together, it's just that they were so similar and it was easier to just do it like this <3

* Also welcome 🕶 anon !!

|| sorry I didn’t update for like 2 days or smth, I was tired and didn’t feel like writing at the time||

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c! Dream

- Your hands groped at his thighs as you pushed your head onto his throbbing cock, you gagged a little bit as the tip of his penis touched the back of your throat. You tried to move your head but he was just too big for you, Dream looked down at your face and bucked his hips.

- You gagged hard to the point where it made your eyes well up with tears, Dream smirked as he looked down at you "Too much for you?" you try to shake your head but can't "Oh that's right, can't talk with your mouth full, can you?" Dream shrugs and puts one of his hands on the back of your head.

- He grabs your head and starts to fuck your face with his cock, it hurt your throat a lot and you knew talking would be hard over the next couple of days "fuck.. So good.." you felt the praise go down to your core, your throat being abused like this really made you feel something new.. You dug your nails into his thighs as you felt yourself cum just from getting used, Dream pulled out and released most of his cum onto your face "What- what happened, baby? Your nails hurt like hell, should I tone it down next time?" Dream comforted you.

- "N- nh..." you shook your head and gestured towards your crotch "I came" you were barely able to get the words out "Really? Shit, you're really a dirty whore.. Just for me, huh?" Dream caressed your face.

c! Sapnap

- "Oh fuck.." Sapnap hissed as your mouth felt amazing around his cock, you closed your eyes and was planning to just give him the regular head that he was used to by now but he felt indifferent as his hand came up to tug on your hair.

- You were sure that his actions weren't intentional, he must just be lost in the pleasure to realize what he's doing to you. You choked a bit as the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat "God.." he bucked his hips up and you had to stop yourself from throwing up, your hands tapped his leg to get him to be more gentle but he looked down at you "You can take it, can't you?" Sapnap pouted.

- You glanced away before looking back at him and showing him a thumbs up "I knew you could do it.." he continued back up, your jaw was hurting and your throat felt all hot and irritated. You suddenly felt yourself tingle down there and your eyes widened, were you seriously getting off to this?!?

- You came as you were sucking on his cock, your eyes rolling into the back of your head which Sapnap instantly knew was a sign that you were having an orgasm. He groaned at the sight before cumming down your throat and making you spit it up "That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen, cumming from getting face fucked?" Sapnap grinned.

- Your throat did not find his words very amusing.

c! George

- He didn’t mean to do what he did, it just felt too good for him.. his head was tilted all the way back and his hips kept moving up to thrust inside your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks and tried to pin his hips to the bed but he just jerked up.

- You gasped and your eyes widened when his sudden jerk made his cock go even deeper into your mouth, it stung your throat and it felt as if you had just swallowed a fork or something. It didn’t bother you but it did make your throat feel uncomfortable as he was fucking your face.

- Your hands were basically bruising his hips to keep them strained down against the bed, the way he was desperately fucking your mouth and not even noticing your pain made you feel a little bit hornier. You felt him throb in your mouth, your jaw was slack and there was so much drool dripping down your chin.

- You gagged when you suddenly came, George came right after and you had to quickly spit out his cum “s-sorry!!” George apologised, “j-just.. came” your voice sounded a bit coarse “you came just from that??” George was surprised “yeah, you just looked too hot like that, couldn’t help myself” you teased.

c! Eret

- Eret had you between her legs while she sat on the throne, his hands were entangled in your hair as your head bobbed up and down “that feels so good, baby..” Eret cooed. Your mouth forcibly opened up even wider so that Eret’s penis could fit inside.

- Your own spit started to leak down your chin, Eret noticed and smirked, their hand reached down to wipe the spit. You loved the sight above you as you gave this man head, they grunted and then placed her arms on your shoulders. You didn’t expect what came next but it’s not like it worried you.

- He held you still and started to fuck into your mouth, her cock sliding in and out. It started to hit against the back of your throat, the way she praised you while straining your throat was honestly really arousing. You clenched your thighs together and let out a small choked moan as you just happened to have a small orgasm.

- Eret pulled out just enough so you were able to speak “Honey, is that what I thought it was? Did my baby just cum from sucking my dick?”

c! Karl

- Karl had started to roll his hips against your mouth, his cock sliding against your tongue. He had normally always been such a sweet whiny boy while given head but I guess he was just a little too impatient today.

- He hated how slow you were going so he just started to take control, he grabbed the back of your head and just started to fuck your face without much thought to it. Unexpectedly you got off faster than he did just from that, he had never taken such charge so it was a big change and it affected you a lot.

- You came, your hand going down to palm yourself as you had a surprise orgasm. Karl came quickly after, you swallowed down what you could and let the rest of it just drip down your face. “I can’t believe I just came from that” you spoke out loud “you did??”

c! Punz

- He had you tied up with your hands bound so you had to use your mouth, you knelt down and opened your mouth up for him “go on. Suck.” He beckoned you closer but you didn’t both to move. You weren’t sure what was going through your head at the time but you sure as hell knew that it’s consequences were high.

- He started to immediately rail your mouth, his hands gripping at your hair and using your hair to move your head. You were choking and gagging on his cock but he didn’t care, tears streamed down your face from the feeling of his huge penis just destroying your throat.

- you felt shameful as you came right there and then from him destroying your mouth, you closed your eyes and hoped he wouldn’t notice “you’re such a little slut, think I wouldn’t notice? You know the rules baby, you’re not allowed to cum without permission..” Punz reminded you.

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[stripper-patrick]

Next Lifetime 💫Michael B. Jordan pt 1.

Warnings: smut, fluff, kids, sneaky link turned into family, angst, crying, 18+, NSFW gifs, series

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Michael B. Jordan x black plus sized reader (Azina/Z)

<4 years ago>

I’m throwing my ass back to the music just enjoying myself during this time. I’ve had at least 4 shots and I’m feeling all of them.

I feel someone press up behind me and it’s my best friend Michael whose clearly off the Henny just as much as I am. He grinds against me and as I’m working my hips I feel his dick stiffen. A boldness surged through me, or maybe that’s the liquor, and I stand up turning to him sealing a kiss. I’ve always wanted him no doubt I just never knew how to tell him. I guess being drunk is the best way. His hands grab at my waist then snake to my ass. His sweet Hennessy flavored lips are getting me even more drunk but with lust this time. The glisten of his plump lips being out the diamonds in his grill set plastered perfectly on his teeth.

“Let’s go to my house” I nod agreeing with his request and he grabs my hand leading me outside. He hails down a cab and opens the door letting me get on first. He smacks my butt on the way in and I giggle.

“322 Barron Street please” it’s about a 15 minute ride from here.

The driver begins his route and Michael starts kissing my neck and his hand slips down my shorts. My panties are beyond soaked and now he’s rubbing my clit making me whine.

His hand wraps around my throat whispering on my ear “stay quiet ma” he rubs again and as soon as the driver turns the corner into Michael’s loft I’m bussing all over his fingers biting the bottom of my lip trying to stay quiet.

He wraps his hand around my mouth flicking my clit faster making me shake harder. He pulls out his coated fingers placing them in my mouth. I suck off my own sweet juices and he grabs my by the throat kissing me tasting myself off my tongue. The driver clears his throat and we stop giggling and getting out. He tips the driver and walks past me opening the door. As soon as he gets the door open my pants are already unbuckled and halfway off.

“Damn hold on mamas” he slurs. We finally make it up to his nicely decorated bedroom and I’m pushed backwards flying back first on the bed. Michael comes on top of me and I flip us over grinding down on his already rock hard dick. He grabs a handful of behind moaning in my mouth. I move down to his neck where I kiss it sloppily. We stop kissing for a moment and I remove my shirt while he does the same. I move down pulling down his boxers and pants in one motion wasting no time swirling my tongue on the tip of his leaking dick. A low moan fills the room and I wrap my lips around the entire tip and push my head down letting it hit the back of my throat. I let it get wet then go back up to sucking on the tip while my right hand jerks the base and my left hand cups his balls. I come off with a string of saliva and I use my palm to rub on the top directly allowing the slick saliva to give him pleasure. His stomach caves and a loud moan erupts from Michael as he looks down holding vicious eye contact with me.

“Fuck Z” I continue going to town until he grabs me by the throat pulling me up to his mouth. Michael’s tongue roams my mouth fighting for dominance as he pulls me on top of him. I grab his throbbing dick pushing it inside of my aching pussy feeling him expand my walls gracefully. He leans back laying his head on the pillow as I gasp sinking down on him until our hips meet. I place my hands on his chest and sit on my feet rocking my hips along his shaft. His eyes flutter shut as I work my magic swirling my hips in a sloppy drunken circle. He bites his lip while one hand grabs the back of my head pulling my sweaty forehead to his. The other hand grabs a handful of my ass pulling me down. His dick fills my pussy completely making me gasp. Without missing a second Keith grabs both sides of my head keeping deadly eye contact with me and thrusts his hips beating my pussy from below. I let out a mewl holding his biceps while digging my acrylics into them. I bite my lip as he obliterates hot spots I didn’t even know were there.

My entire body feels like it’s on fire as after he thrusts he gives it aches and caves for more. “You like that? You like being daddy’s lil bitch” he moans pounding me out. Michael moves his hands wrapping his hand around my throat pulling me further and growling in my ear. I try to push away as the pleasure is starting to overwhelm me and he holds me by my hips keeping me right where he wants me. The only that can be heard in the room is the slushing sound of my wetness, the clapping of my ass and his balls slapping against my ass. My legs shake already as he continues. My pussy soaks everything underneath me as I let out a struggled moan cumming harder than I’ve ever came with any other man before. Michael pulls out pushing me up onto his face while jerking himself off in the process. He wraps his hands around my hips tasting the beautiful mess he made. My body jerks and my hand instinctively moves to his head as I roll my body on his tongue. He moans at my taste sucking and lapping on my clit. I smile getting off his face and back on his dick bucking my hips wildly. Michael guides my hips keeping himself as deep as possible. He begins thrusting up again at a fast pace making my eyes roll to the back of my head. He growls again giving me a fair warning that he’s about to cum. Without thinking I scream “cum inside this pussy daddy”

I’m aching from his blows. I sit up and keep bouncing at the same pace as he holds my hips tensing up. His seed spills inside of me and I watch his arch his back when I clench my pussy creating a suction. He moans pressing into my hips more.

Michael sits up kissing me and giving me a hard spank to my right ass cheek. His dick throbs inside of me as our mixtures leaks out dripping past his balls and onto the sheets. Drunkenly I lay on top of him giving him lazy kisses. Time and liquor consumes us and before I know it we’re both asleep in each other’s arms.

…

I wake up with a headache the size of the room. I feel like if I move too fast I’ll throw up. I feel someone warmth next to me and I pause. Who did I go home with last night? What happened? I’m aching between my legs but my conscience tells me not to be scared. I look behind me seeing Michael fast asleep. I sigh in comfort knowing I’m safe. He stirs in his sleep opening his eyes and he sees me. “Morning”

“Morning” I move my legs and notice they’re weak. I pull back the covers and we’re both completely naked. Oh shit. I jump up to the best of my ability and he sits up too

“Mike what did we do last night”

“Well using my context clues we had sex” he says rubbing his eyes

“Michael do you not see an issue with that? You have a girlfriend”

“I know but I mean if I’m being honest I’ve always had feelings for you Z and clearly you feel the same way” he states. I grab my underwear shaking my head.

“Mike that’s not the point you knew we shouldn’t have acted on it especially since you’re in a relationship. This could absolutely ruin our friendship. Lemme ask you this what if we go get together and break up then what you know I’m not friends with my exes. If you can be cool with your ex y’all were never in love or still are in love. There’s no in between” he looks at me with his head hanging low. He knows exactly where I’m coming from. “I’m not tryna lose you as a person in general” Mike goes in the bathroom brushing his teeth and peeing.

I collect my clothes putting them back on and Mike throws on some basketball shorts and a t-shirt he grabs some slides and his car keys . Luckily my car is already at home since Michael and his girl Lori picked me up.

“Z I’m sorry. I know things went too far but I’m glad we at least know how we feel about each other” he says “and I don’t regret what happened last night” I nod and get in his car. He gets in the drivers seat taking off and taking me home.

…..

Lori decided to have a pool party today to celebrate Mike for his birthday. Of course he invited me and being his best friend I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus it’s at his new house and I’ve never seen it before. Granite we haven’t talked much or seen each other at all since our ordeal a couple weeks ago. In fact this is the first time I’ve actually seen him since that day.

I walk through their beautiful house with a bottle of champagne in my hand. I see Lori in the kitchen. Honestly me and her have never really been that close. I never really cared for her but I was always cordial with her. “Hey Lori I brought this for y’all” she looks at me taking the champagne without even saying thank you. Bougie bitch. Don’t get me wrong I’m bougie too but best believe I’m as humble and as thankful as they come. I guess that’s why me and Mike are best friends. We’re the same.

I roll my eyes and my heels click outside where I see a bunch of people lounging in the pool and on the sides with drinks in their hand. My other best friend Lamia greets me with open arms. Her perfume makes me nauseous and dizzy “Hey girl” she smiles

“Hey” I say trying to hold my breakfast down.

“Mike is over there. Have you and him talked since then?” As soon as I got home that day I got ready for work and told Lamia what happened. I shrug my shoulders as an answer.

“Only small talk and I’ve low key been trying to avoid him just so the awkward tension doesn’t arise” I say

“Makes sense” Michael begins walking over and I stride a little further away until he catches me.

“Hey ladies” he hugs lamia and I’m next. I smell his cologne and melt. “you want a drink Z” I shake my head

“I don’t feel too hot right now so I’ll stick with water for the day” he nods eyes lingering on me for longer than a second. Lori comes out running his bare back and our contact is broken. While Lori begins talking to him I slip away downing the rest of my water. The nausea is finally gone and I sit on the lounge chair going on my phone. I put on my sunglasses shielding my eyes.

While I’m relaxing in the sun I notice Michael keeps staring at me. I see the small bulge in his shorts and I can’t help but bite my lip, mouth water at the taste of his dick down my throat.

A mid-height dark skin man starts walking my way and I see he has a pearly white smile similar to Michael’s. I get a better glimpse of his face. His name is Jayson. I’ve heard about him before. I heard he’s a player and he sleeps with anything that moves.

He sits next to my feet flashing his smile at me. I sit up with a small smile on my face. “Hey I’m Jayson Mikes friend”

“Yea I know. I’m Z”

“What’s that short for”

“Azina” he smiles scooting closer. I glance up seeing Mikes eyes never leaving me.

“That’s beautiful. Fitting for a beautiful woman” he bites his lip. I take a deep breath and take my sunglasses off. I stare directly into Michael’s eyes and he’s fuming. Dimples are prominent in his cheeks, nose flared, biceps flexed from how tense he is. Jayson moves even closer and that’s when Michael comes over.

“Hey Jay what y’all talking about?” He interjects with his nose held high. A small rage burns in my stomach at how he completely ruined my chance at something. Even if I was just playing Jaysons game right back at him.

“Her name. It’s pretty”

“Oh yea the two ‘A’s in her name stands for aggravated assault. She’s crazy man she beat niggas” he laughs. He’s not fully wrong “but she’s my kinda crazy. Speaking of Azina can I speak to you privately please? Jay you don’t mind right? Course not be right back” before I even have a chance to protest he grabs my wrist and my panties are soaked by the time we enter the glass double doors of his house that Lori happens to be staying in. Just hearing him call my name rather than my nickname has me wanting to be on my knees on this cold marble floor.

“What the hell is your issue?” I ask yanking my arm away. He grabs me again taking me upstairs through the neatly decorated white hallway. We get into his gold coated marble bathroom where he locks the door. I lean against the counter and he folds his arms “why have you been avoiding me”

“I-“

“And don’t lie to me” he asserts his dominance making my clit throb. Silence and heavy thick sexual tension fill the air and I look down at my long pink acrylic nails. He steps closer sealing any space between me and him. His large hand wraps around my throat making me bite my lip “you like seeing me get all jealous? Shit makes you wet mama?”

“Yes” I whimper. And just like that I’m putty in his hands. He pulls me up to his plump lips placing a wet kiss on them. Michael pulls off my duster of a swimsuit coverup. His large hands play with my breasts and my hand moved to his hard on. He’s rock solid now. His hand moves from my breast to my bikini bottoms rubbing my clit. My hips hunk and my hands move to his bicep as his plump lips kiss my neck. My body jerks as his thick fingers slide into my hole with ease. He begins pressing my g-spot like a button making me lose my breath. Michael moves up to my ear whispering “you’re mine”

He pulls his fingers out and sucks them dry turning me around some I’m facing the huge mirror above the sink. I grab the ledge bracing myself as he rolls my bottoms down spanking me in the process. I spread my cheeks feel his warm hard dick press inside of me. He fills me up and holds my hips bouncing me back to meet his thrusts. His breaths become heavy and ragged and my mouth drops open but nothing comes out.

Michael is pressing right on my g-spot making me lose my breath. “Daddy” I whimper.

“That’s my girl take all this shit. You wanna flirt with other niggas ima show you who you belong to” he wraps his hand around my throat quickening his pace. My eyes squeeze shut and my moans get louder. The sounds of our moans and my ass clapping fills the room but we have to keep it quiet so no one comes up here and finds us.

“You like when daddy fill you up bitch?”

“Yes I love it so much” my legs begin shaking as my orgasm approaches fast like a train. He gets close to my ear still pounding me out against the marble counter.

“Look at me when I make you cum” I bite my lip and his grip tightens on my neck. I open my eyes to the best of my ability as my entire body seizes in front of him. My body is on fire and he chuckles biting his lip “you look so fucking pretty taking all this dick like a good little whore”

I whimper jerking around and he pulls out watching my body tense up and convulse. He smacks my already shaking ass. Michael turns me around again putting me on the counter and he gets on one knee licking my pussy. He slurps you the mess he made moaning at the taste. I watch as he pulls my pussy lips back making sure to get as much of my clit as possible. My body writhes from still being sensitive and I grab the back of his head pushing him further in me. I pull off my bikini top rubbing my nipples while grinding on his face. My head falls back and he gives small licks making me even crazier than before. Michael comes up kissing my lips. I can taste myself on his tongue. He taps his dick on my clit before inserting himself again. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he wastes no time taking me to Poundtown.

His short nails claw down my back and he buries his head in my neck. “That’s it daddy right there” my nails take through his short waves as his hips ripple through me. My moans uncontrollably get louder and he covers my mouth pounding me harder “can’t scream now can you baby?” I whimper eyes rolling to the back of my head as I squirt on his dick “that’s what I want fuck I’m bout to cum” his growls get louder and he kisses me moaning. His body shakes when he leaks inside of me. My nails scrape down his back and he empties his load inside of me.

He stays inside of me staring deep into my eyes. I can’t help this feeling anymore but I need to for the sake of our friendship. Michael’s catches me in a kiss and for a split second I ignore my feelings and kiss him back. As if he were really mine. That thought stops me from going any further “I’m sorry for avoiding you”

“I understand mamas” he kisses me again and pull out grabbing a towel he wipes off my pussy and leans down placing a kiss on my clit making me gasp. I chuckle getting off the counter with his help. My legs shake and I laugh. I grab my clothes putting them back on and making sure I look like I did before I came up here.

“Mike” I hear Lori call from downstairs. To the best of my ability I walk to the door but before I open it Michael grabs my arm kissing me again. This one was more passion than lust. I smile pulling away and open the door. To see Lori coming in. I turn around and turn him around quickly “so this is the master bathroom?” I look at him

“Yea it’s marble counters and the gold trim it’s my favorite and there’s the waterfall shower in there” we walk towards the shower acting like he was explaining me the layout of the bathroom the whole time. I hear loris heels click in the bathroom “baby the boys are looking for you at the pool” he turns around nodding

“Ard come on Z” We walk past Lori and her eyes linger on us.

Me and Mike walk outside and he can’t stop staring at me. He stands at the front of the bar with a microphone “I wanna thank every one for coming out. I wanna thank Lori for putting this together couldn’t have done this without you babe” that word ‘babe’ leaves a stinging mark on my heart as Lori steps up beside her man. She kisses him and then looks at me. I walk backwards dipping out from the crowd. I go inside and grab the champagne I brought. This bottle wasn’t cheap so if they won’t drink it I will. I pour myself a glass and start sipping it. Michael comes in and once again it’s just us alone.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry. Look Michael as much as we both want it us being together might never happen simply because you and Lori are a thing and y’all are basically destined for marriage”

“Now you know I’ve been about you and only you for a while”

“I can’t tell cause I’m still single and you’re in a relationship” I sigh “I’m leaving this house is beautiful but you need to figure out what you really want” I extend my arms and give him a hug. He plants a kiss on my neck Mumbling the words I’m sorry again.

I grab my champagne and leave the house with a heavy heart and a cloudy mind. That nauseous feeling is back.

[sinner-as-saint]

Just A Little Too Much.

(Dark) Mob!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader AU

Run-through: You met Steve after your parents got divorced. He was your mom’s ‘special friend’, and you soon began living at his place, along with your mom. You were just 18 and a half then, and Steve became the only man you looked up to after you learnt that your father was sent to prison for unknown reasons. Soon, Steve became the only family you had after your mother started going away on even more trips for work, then came the time where she stopped coming home altogether. But that was alright, because you had Steve. You were his Princess, and he often told you that you needed no one else but him. He would do anything for you, he loved you - perhaps just a little too much. 

Themes: innocent!reader, manipulation, dark!steve, smut, fluff

You woke up from your nap with a faint smile on, feeling a pair of lips leaving soft, warm kisses all over your cheek. 

Steve. 

You immediately felt so warm just knowing he was here; his powerful scent wrapping around you, making you feel safe. 

“Wake up, Princess.” He murmured. “It’s your birthday, you can’t be napping.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing one could do. 

You heard Steve’s voice, and felt his beard trail after his lips all over your face. You opened your eyes, giggling and realizing that you had fallen asleep on the couch in your bedroom. You looked up to find Steve above you, his strong arm placed on the back of the couch as he bent over slightly to look down at you with his pretty blue eyes. He was dressed in one of his many expensive, well-tailored suits which gave away that he had just finished some call or video conference regarding work. 

“Hi Stevie.” 

His soft gaze roamed your body. “Hi Princess. Come on wake up, you don’t wanna sleep all day.” 

You smiled up at him. “Yes I do.” You said, making him raise his eyebrows at you; smirking. “It’s my birthday, I can nap all day if I want to.” You did make a fair point, he had to admit. 

His smirk morphed into a gentle, calming smile as he reached out to caress your cheek softly. “But I miss you.” 

You shrugged, lazily. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” 

His lips parted in fake surprise. “Is that so?” 

The moment you saw his hands reaching out towards you, you knew he was planning to tickle you till you ran out of breath and begged him to stop. So you shot up and slipped from his grasp, running away as fast as you could; giggling uncontrollably. 

Steve chased you, chuckling each time you escaped his grasp. “Come here, Princess. You can’t run from me, you know that.” He chased you around the room, watched you as you jumped over the coffee table, the pouf and just as you were about to run into the walk-in closet Steve managed to grab your hand and tackled you down on the bed. 

He had you trapped, giggling and squirming under him. He was a happy man as he looked down at you, pinning your wrists down on the bed above your head, his face so close to yours that he was certain you and him were sharing the same breath. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

You eventually stopped fighting and squirming. You looked up at him and smiled as big as you could. You stared up at him and saw the man who was your everything. 

Steve was your everything. Your family was… absent. Steve said none of them cared about you as much as he did. Steve also said that your father was not a good man, and that’s why he was locked up in jail. You never asked why, or what he did to deserve such punishment, but Steve said that it wasn’t important for you to know so you let it go. Your mom was not here either, she was always out of the country, working. Steve said your mom made work her priority over you, but that was okay too because you had Steve. And he was all you need. 

Steve looked down at you, admiring how pretty his Princess was. When he first saw you around four years ago, he knew he had to protect you forever. You were too precious, too innocent for this world. He couldn’t just stand there and watch this world corrupt you in any way, so he kept you close. He did what he had to in order to keep you under his roof and protection all the time. He made sure you’d never have to worry about anything, ever. 

“Hi Princess.” He murmured again, still on top of you. You gave him a smile which always melted his heart ever since day one. You owned him, and you probably had no idea about all the things he was willing to do for you. 

“Hi Stevie.” To you, he had always been Stevie - your best friend, your family, your protector - your everything. You don’t know where everyone went, or why everyone gradually disappeared from your life once you met Steve. But you had him, and he was all you needed. 

“Happy Birthday.” He whispered, wishing you for the fifth time since this morning when you woke up in his arms. Steve leaned down to kiss the side of your mouth. 

You relished his touch. Steve always made you feel good just by being there, and having all his attention on you was all you ever wanted. You giggled as he kissed his way down your neck. “Thank you.” 

He hummed as he kissed along the neckline of the dress you were wearing. “Did you like your gift, Princess?” Steve asked, kissing along the top of your breasts. 

You let out a quiet gasp of pleasure as you felt him gently nip at your skin. You nodded, “I did. Thank you, Stevie.” You whispered, getting lost in the way he made you feel. You thought of the gift he had given you this morning, it was currently parked in the twelve-car garage of the house, sitting there with a pretty, red bow on top of it. It was your shiny, new dream car. 

“We can go on a drive later, if you want.” He murmured against your skin, one of his hands releasing your wrists, lowering to undo the buttons at the front of your dress. 

You shivered as you felt the warm, slow touches of his lips and fingertips all at the same time. He was always so gentle with you and always so mean to others. He always said that was because you were his precious Princess and other people meant nothing to him. 

A drive with Stevie sounded amazing. Only, he’s always working these days. Would he even have the time? “We could. But then what about work?” 

He froze for a moment, hearing the hint of sadness and uncertainty in your tone. He hated it. He hated that he had been so engrossed in work this past week that you noticed he wasn’t spending enough time with you. 

Steve pulled away and looked up at you. “I’ve been too busy with work lately, haven’t I?” He asked, knowing the answer. The little, sad nod you gave him made his heart hurt. “Aww…” he cooed, reaching up to kiss your nose, “I’m sorry, Princess.” He murmured against your skin and pulled away to look into your eyes again. “How about this, you have me all to yourself for the whole day today and the upcoming week? Sounds good?” 

He didn’t care about how much that would affect the many people who worked for him, all he knew was that his Princess needed him and he would do anything to make her happy. 

You smiled brightly. “Perfect!” 

He chuckled before leaning in to kiss your lips. Slow and gentle at first, before growing more and more needy for you. He pressed his body against yours, allowing you to feel the urgency of his need. You gasped into the heated kiss as you felt his hardness in between your legs. Steve shoved his tongue past your lips, tasting you, stroking the inside of your mouth. You whined when you felt him roll his hips against yours. 

You felt warm, burning with need just as much as he was. And he knew. 

You shivered in pleasure as you felt him kiss his way down your body again, unbuttoning your dress with impatience, his need overpowering his entire being. He needed you, needed to taste you and have you come undone on his tongue, he needed your taste embedded in his brain, not wanting to risk ever forgetting it. 

Steve kissed down the middle of your breasts, down till your belly button and stopped at the waistband of your light pink, lace panties, which matched the bra and the dress you wore. Wanting to tease you just a little, he stuck his tongue out and licked along the edge of your underwear before licking up and down your wet, clothed core. 

He watched you squirm on the bed. Smirking devilishly, he kissed along your inner thigh just to mess with you a little more. He could tell you were slowly giving into the haze of pleasure which washed over you even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“Stevie…” you whispered, closing your eyes and tipping your head back as he nibbled along the soft skin on your inner thigh. “Please…” 

He had to give in. His cock twitched in his pants, straining against the zipper at the sound of your soft moans and pleas. 

He pulled your underwear away from your skin and to the side, exposing your dripping wet folds to his hungry eyes. He could tell just by the look of it that your sensitive clit was throbbing. He hummed in satisfaction, “Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever seen…” He whispered more so to himself, reminding himself - not that he would ever forget - that you were his. “Spread your legs for me, Princess.” 

You did, just like you did everything he asked. You parted your legs then supported yourself up on your elbows, watching him. Steve once mentioned that he liked it when you watched him as he pleasured you. 

You let out a moan the moment his mouth touched you. His lips moved along your wet folds as his tongue teased your entrance. His beard scratched your sensitive skin, as your arousal spread all over his mouth. 

“You taste so sweet, Princess.” You watched how Steve closed his eyes, savouring your taste. You were a moaning mess in no time, your whole body electrified at his touch. “Like strawberries and honey.” He moaned at your taste alone, humping against the bed discreetly. He could always fuck you later, but right now was strictly about you. 

Steve moved his hand which was caressing up and down your thigh towards your core. He pushed his two fingers past your entrance and pumped them in and out of you slowly, gradually increasing his pace. He felt your walls clench around his fingers as you moaned louder and louder with each stroke of his fingers against your walls. His mouth moved to your throbbing clit, teasing you further until you felt like you were losing your mind. 

“Stevie…” You struggled to hold back your moans. 

Steve took one look at you and he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You never could last long under his touch anyways. But he was always more than happy to pleasure his Princess. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, Princess? You can’t hold back from cumming all over my tongue, can you baby?” 

His husky voice made your body throb even more, along with his warm breath fanning your damp skin. You whined in response, dropping down on the bed - your upper body having no strength to hold you up any longer. Steve chuckled. 

“It’s okay, Princess. Cum for me.” He whispered and placed his mouth back on your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of your relentlessly. He noticed the way your legs were shaking slightly. You couldn’t hold the pressure in between your legs anymore so you let go and came violently around his fingers and mouth. 

You moaned out loud, squirming as you came, and Steve lapped up everything you had to offer. He licked each and every drop of your cum as it spilled out of you before kissing his way up your body again. He reached your lips and kissed you deeply. 

You giggled into the kiss. It made Steve smile, he always found it adorable how you were always so giggly after he made you cum. 

Steve pulled away after a while, looking down at your swollen lips and the shine in your eyes. “Want me to order your favorites for your special day? Strawberry and chocolate donuts?” He asked. Those damn donuts were your kryptonite. He often wondered if you loved them more than you loved him. 

You gave it a thought. “Nope.” 

Your answer worried him. And he opened his mouth to ask you why but you spoke up before he could. “Let’s make some cupcakes instead. With strawberry and chocolate icing.” You had missed him so much and you desperately wanted to spend time with him, and what was better than baking together in the kitchen? 

Steve smiled, almost reading your mind. He knew exactly why you had proposed so. He felt a little guilty but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Then he remembered… 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Princess,” it sounded like a warning. “You remember what happened the last time we tried to bake something, right?” His voice sent shivers dancing down your back. 

Of course you remembered. It involved a lot of kisses, chocolate ganache and eventually ended with Steve fucking you right there on the kitchen floor. Your face felt really as that memory resurfaced in your head. 

You nodded. “I promise that won’t happen again, Stevie.” You were the one to blame for that, since it was you who kept teasing him in the first place. 

He hummed in your ear, the sound making your body throb again. “We’ll see about that.” He pulled away and stared down at you. “Okay, come on. Let’s go make some cupcakes for my Princess.” 

You jumped out of bed the moment he got off you. He pulled you close again, buttoning your dress for you while you looked up at him like he hung the moon. 

By the time you made it to the kitchen, Steve had already removed his suit jacket and tie. The black button down shirt was doing things to you but he didn’t need to know that yet. It should be illegal for a man to look that good. While you took out all the appliances and utensils you needed for the cupcakes and icing, Steve’s phone vibrated on the counter. 

He grabbed his phone and took a look at who the caller was. You noticed the frown on his face. 

“Who is it Stevie? Is it work?” 

The discontent in your tone didn’t go by unnoticed. But this phone call had to be dealt with. “No, Princess.” Steve stepped closer and kissed your forehead. “It’s… an old friend. I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?” He kissed your lips briefly and left the kitchen. 

You pouted for a moment but then shook it off. 

Steve went as far away from the open kitchen as he could, just to get out of your hearing range. He had to cross the entire living room to answer the call. Bitterly. 

“What?” He spat at the caller. And he was immediately greeted by a sobbing woman. 

“Just let me talk to her, at least please. She’s my-,” 

Steve cut the crying woman off, like he always did. “She’s your nothing! Nothing, you hear me? She’s mine. Only mine. It’s not my fault you’re a terrible mother who doesn’t care about her daughter’s well-being.” 

He heard more sobbing on the phone. “I didn’t do anything, I just-,” 

He cut her off once again. “Stop lying! You tried to take her away from me!” 

The woman raised her voice. “Because I realized that you’re crazy! I regret the day I met you, the day I let you in my life, in her life. You were a big mistake, and now you won’t even let me talk to my daughter?!” Her anger could be heard despite the tears. “You won’t even let me come home, I can’t even step out of this damn place because your men are everywhere!” 

Steve chuckled. Your mother was abroad, not allowed to come anywhere close to you because… because he didn’t like the thought of having to share your love or attention. You were his. You had him, you didn’t need anyone else. 

“You’re in a luxurious house, with everything one can ever need in it. What are you complaining about? You could’ve been dead, you know? I could have had you killed instead if I wanted to, but I didn’t. You should thank me for that.” 

He received a series of swear words as a reply, which only made him smirk wider. 

“It’s her birthday, Steve. Let me talk to her. I won’t tell her anything about this, please.” The woman begged. 

Steve scoffed. “She doesn’t need you. She has me. Now, don’t ever call here again or I’ll make sure you don’t live to see another day.” He ended the call right in the woman’s face. He carelessly tossed his phone on one of the couches as he walked back into the kitchen. 

You were taking out all the ingredients, weighing them on the scale carefully. You had somehow managed to get some flour on your cheek in the process. Steve smiled, his heart melting at the sight of you. So precious, all his. 

He walked over to where you stood and wrapped his arms around your waist, lowering his head to kiss your exposed shoulder. “Hi Princess.” He murmured, softly. 

You smiled. “Hi.” 

“I love you more than anything, Princess. You know that, right?” He placed another kiss on your skin. 

You turned your head to the side a little, smiling, “I know, you tell me everyday. I love you too, Stevie.” 

-

Midway through, while your cupcakes were in the oven and Steve was getting the icing ready, he noticed a slight frown on your face as you sat on the counter not far from him. 

“What is it, Princess?” He placed the bowl down and stared at you, giving you his undivided attention as always. 

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, “Oh, nothing.” You lied. And he caught it immediately. You were never a good liar. 

Steve walked over to you, stepping in between your legs and placing his hands on your thighs, caressing your skin gently. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” 

You looked down at your lap, his hands inching higher and higher up your thigh. You wondered if you should bring it up, because it always upset him. But before you could stop yourself, you were blurting out the words, “I was wondering why my mom didn’t call me today. She did last year. You think she forgot my birthday?” 

Steve was upset for a moment, before being clouded by jealousy and possessiveness. He tried smiling to hide it. “You don’t need her. If she cared, she’d be here right now. Don’t you agree, Princess?” 

You nodded, lowering your eyes, but Steve could tell you didn’t agree. 

“Princess, look at me.” He spoke, you looked up. “You don’t need anyone. You have me, right?” 

You nodded again, more firmly. “I know, Stevie but-,” 

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Steve slid his hand into your hair and tugged on it gently to make sure he had your attention. “Because what, huh? Is my love not enough for you? Am I not enough?” His tone was gentle but bitter. His eyes were glossier than before. Anger, jealousy, it all ate him up on the inside. 

You stared into his eyes, your own watering a little. Oh no, you didn’t want to upset him. “You’re my everything, Stevie.” 

Those words shook his entire being, and he released your hair immediately. He looked down for a moment, sighing loudly. He placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, pressing his forehead to your chest. “You’re mine, Princess.” He whispered as your fingers slid into his hair, massaging his scalp to calm him down. It was working. “You’re mine and you don’t need anyone else.” He whispered. “We don’t need anyone.” 

You spoke up immediately, “I know. I don’t need anyone. I have you.” You felt him kiss his way up your neck soon after. 

“But you’re still thinking about your mother, are you not?” He sounded bitter. “She doesn’t care about you, Princess. She never has, neither did your father. They never cared or loved you like I do.” He said softly, but his jealousy was hard to ignore. 

“I know, Stevie.” 

You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was in a bad mood. He eventually said so himself, “You upset me, Princess.” He murmured then resumed kissing your skin. “I do all this for you, buy you what you want, do everything to keep you happy but it seems I’m not enough.” He whispered against your skin and you shivered at his tone. 

“No Stevie, that’s not-,” 

He shut you up by placing his mouth on yours. He kissed you with all he had in him, pouring out all his emotions - the good and the bad. His hands gripped your hips as he kissed you hard and fiercely, not caring that he was biting your lips carelessly. 

You couldn’t help but gasp into the kiss when he swiftly slid you off the counter and set you down on your feet. Steve pulled away and stared into your eyes with love and anger. “I’m all you need, Princess. Why can’t you just accept that?” 

Before you could say something, he turned you around so your front pressed against the edge of the counter and your back to his torso. You gripped the counter as he grabbed your dress on either side and pulled it up until it bunched around your waist. You felt his mouth at the side of your neck; licking and biting and kissing - making your heart race and that intensified when you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

“I’m gonna show you that I’m enough.” He whispered into your ear. “That I’m all you need, because no one is going to love you as much as I do, Princess.” The sincerity and certainly in his voice sent tingles down your spine. 

You felt him lower your underwear until it reached your ankles. Your heart fluttered and raced all at the same time. You could feel him, pressing against you. His hands on either side of your waist as you pressed the palms of your hands against the cold counter. 

You waited for a moment. Then you felt the tip of his cock press against your folds, slowly rubbing up and down; parting the lips at your entrance. “You’re all mine, Princess.” Steve moaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you.

Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming sooner than you thought. Steadily, Steve filled you up; stretching you all the way like he always did. And he had you whimpering in no time. 

“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was foggy as he started rocking into you. Slowly at first, then gradually building up his pace. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 

You felt all of him. Each time he filled you up entirely, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, and you moaned out loud each time; your walls clenching around him. 

“I’m yours…” you whispered. Your mind was hazy, by him slamming into you. His thrust was animalistic, and rough. Each time he slammed into you, your front crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that.

“Louder.” He growled. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it; tipping your head back. “I said louder, Princess.” His voice sounded menacing. 

You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours, Stevie” You said, louder like he wanted. 

The sounds of your skin slapping against one another was downright obscene, and the grunts leaving his mouth was even more sinful. You couldn’t see him, yet you knew he looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted as occasional groans escaped his lips. You could imagine him with the frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 

“You better remember that, Princess.” He growled into your ear. “You are mine. I love you, and I am the only one you’re allowed to love back. You hear me?” 

You nodded, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

And when your walls clenched violently around him, Steve knew you were close as well.

“You’re gonna cum for me, Princess?” he cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. Seeing you didn’t reply, he tugged on your hair and tilted your head back a little more. He leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did. 

“Cum for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonizingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him; you came, hard.

He did too. With a few strokes against your walls, he came right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, leaving behind his presence as your body shook against the counter.

Carefully, he pulled out. And smiled, satisfied, as he watched how his cum trickled out of you and past your folds. He adjusted his pants and zipped it up. He pulled your underwear up, then finally fixed your dress. 

He leaned in to kiss your cheek. Your back was still against his torso, and his arms were around you. Unable to trust your own body, your hands gripped the counter still. He nuzzled your neck, kissed your skin and moved his lips to your ear. 

“Now tell me, Princess, do you need anyone else? Anyone at all?” He mumbled. 

You shook your head, still hazy. “No, Stevie. You’re all I need. You’re my everything.” You replied, repeating the same words he constantly told you. “I love you.” 

Steve smiled against your skin. “I love you more, Princess.” He added, “Perhaps a little too much.” He meant what he said. 

He didn’t care how many times he’d have to remind you. He would do it as many times as it took, all for you to realize that you belonged to him. There was no one else. No other love, no one else to turn to, nowhere to run. Just him. 

“Now come on, we have cupcakes to ice.” He kissed your cheek before pulling your trembling body away from the counter. 

You smiled up at him. Your Stevie… How could you ever bother about whether anyone else remembered your birthday or not? Stevie was here for you, and he was all you ever needed. He was your everything. You loved him. Only him. 

[nightowlwriting]

summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.