#cevans smut
Note
in relation to this post, could we get some super nasty breeding kink sex when he comes home from a mission? i imagine him just feral and needing you so bad all rough and the nastiest words coming from him
Conception*
a/n: there’s no link or anything but I’m assuming you’re talking about the steve edit i posted LOLLLL
summary: Steve comes home from a high risk mission and decides he doesn’t want to wait any longer
warnings: smut, lil bit of angst, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie ofc, needy Steve, aftercare
word count: 2.6k
~
YN hums softly along to Video Games by Lana Del Ray, a look of concentration adorning her face as she puts the finishing touches on the dinner she’s prepared. She’s expecting Steve home sometime tomorrow morning so she fills a tupperware container full of half the delicious meal she made.
Her stomach grumbles in hunger as soon as she gets a whiff of the potatoes, steamed vegetables, and steak bites, her mouth practically watering in anticipation. Once she’s plated the other half for herself, she makes her way to the couch and sits down to enjoy.
A small smile forms on her face and she does a little happy dance as she quickly turns on her favorite show and digs in. She manages to finish almost the whole plate and sits it on the coffee table in front of her, pulling her legs up onto the couch to relax as she finishes up another episode.
When it’s over she finally forces herself up off the couch and to the kitchen to clean up the dishes she’s messed up, turning on some more music to keep her focused. Just as she’s finishing up, she hears the sound of her front door being opened and ultimately slammed shut. She apprehensively makes her way to the entrance of the kitchen and peeks her head out, relieved to see Steve standing in the living room, still in his uniform.
“You scared the shit out of me,” she chuckles, stepping into the room with him. Only then does she realize he’s literally panting as if he’d ran here from his mission, and she frowns as she begins to ask him what’s wrong.
Before she can even blink he’s got her pinned against their living room wall, his lips on hers. It takes her a moment but then she’s kissing him back with the same amount of aggression he gave her, and then he’s lifting her up until their hips are touching, immediately grinding against her.
The material of his suit is causing great friction, the fact that she’s wearing nothing but a pair of flimsy panties helping as well. They’re moaning into each other’s mouths, as they grind against one another, desperate to get off as quickly as possible.
They’re both lost in the bliss of their bodies on one another until Steve pulls away abruptly. “No,” he shakes his head. “Can’t take you right here, it’s not right. Have to go to the bed,” he says, but it’s more to himself than her, and she’s obliging and turning to leave. Until he grabs her arm and pulls her back to him, hoisting her up to his waist and pressing his lips to hers again. His hands move down to grip her ass cheeks as he begins the trek to their room, and he somehow manages to successfully tear the panties off of her with one hand, letting them fall to the floor as he walks.
As they finally make their way into the neat bedroom, he tosses YN onto the bed and she sees the literally feral look in his eyes, not concerned but curious as to what’s got him this way. Before she can ask him, he’s on her again, his hand reaching forward to palm her breasts, but she needs to make sure his head is in the right place before they move forward.
He’s a bit shocked when she rejects him, making him snap out of whatever daze he’d been in. “Steve. What’s going on with you?” she questions, a look of confusion on her face as she tries to think of what’s made him this way.
He looks at her for a beat as he reads her face, trying to figure out what the best way is to say this. A quick battle in his mind leads to him just coming right out and saying it. “I wanna have a baby,” he blurts, and YN’s eyes widen a fraction before going back to normal. For a moment it’s just silence, and he’s worried he’s done something wrong.
“Are you…sure about this?” she questions, choosing her words wisely. “I thought you weren’t ready,” she finishes. Her eyes wander over his face as she makes sure there’s nothing off with his demeanour, and sure enough, it’s the Steve she knows. But that doesn’t quell her confusion.
Steve is slightly offended by her question, his mood shifting just a bit. “What do you mean am I sure? Why else would I say this?” he scoffs, moving off of her to sit next to her. She sits up when he does, now a bit upset at his tone.
“Steve, just last month you told me you weren’t ready. You can’t be mad at me for wanting to be sure,” she reasons. Steve is confused for a moment until it all clicks.
~
One month earlier
YN and Steve both finally have a free day, deciding to spend it together. Instead of staying home, though, they opt for a day out on the town, hitting some shops and even stopping at a nearby bakery. In quiet bakery, they sit and indulge in their pastries and coffee as they make conversation about anything under the sun, until the sound of small cries catch their attention.
They both whip their heads over to the source and see a little baby boy no more than a few months old crying, and after a few moments of investigation they realize he’s dropped his binky out of the stroller. YN hops up and grabs it for the overwhelmed mother, tapping her on the shoulder as she’d been trying to console her son.
The woman is a little startled by YN’s presence but her eyes soften as she realizes what she’s holding, thanking YN for returning the binky back to her. “No problem, I couldn’t just leave it down there while you tried to find it or figure out where it was,” she explains, smiling softly. From there, the woman and YN go into a small conversation about her son, and YN’s heart just melts at how fondly the mother, whose name she found out was Harper, spoke of her son Jacob.
The two finish up their conversation with an exchange of numbers, and YN heads back to Steve with a pep in her step, sitting down with a smile. Almost immediately she goes into how cute Jacob was and everything she and the mother had talked about. In the midst of her rambling, she hadn’t noticed Steve had gotten quiet until now.
“I can’t wait to be a mom someday! Can you imagine a little me or a little you running around one day?” she asked, still smiling brightly. The smile was quickly wiped from her face when Steve didn’t answer her, but stood up and announced he was ready to go home. Her frown deepens at that, and she quietly gathers her things and they start the trek home, walking in silence beside one another as YN keeps herself from breaking down on the middle of the sidewalk.
They arrive home after what felt like an eternity to her, and she speeds to the bathroom and closes the door behind her, turning on the shower before letting herself begin to cry. She thought she’d been discreet with her sobs, but not long after she hears the bathroom door open and she silences herself. Through the foggy glass of the shower she can see Steve begin to strip down before he’s climbing in with her. Her back is to him but he already knows what’s happening so he turns her to him and pulls her into his chest.
The sobs start up again immediately, now with no restraint as she doesn’t need to hide from him anymore. He’s soothing her silently, rubbing his hand up and down her back and hasn’t stopped scolding himself for the way he reacted. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers once her cries quiet to small sniffles.
She shakes her head against him and he frowns, leaning back to get a good look at her face as she begins to speak. “No, I’m sorry,” she starts, and he’s about to say something but she stops him. “I jumped the gun, I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you so early. I know we’ve only been married for two months and-,” she’s cut off by the feeling of his lips on hers, silencing her rambling.
“Baby,” he whispers, even more guilty now that she feels it’s her fault. “Stop that right now. This is not your fault, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did,” he firmly tells her, making sure she doesn’t believe she’s at fault. “You did nothing wrong. It’s just…I think I need a little bit more time. My life is so crazy and I want to be invested fully,” he explains.
“I should have expressed that, and I want you to know that as soon as I am ready you will be the first to know,” he finishes.
“I know and I’m sorry. We definitely need more time with just us,” she responds, her worries not completely leaving but staying in the back of her mind for the time being.
~
Now
“The mission I was just on…we were outnumbered,” he starts, taking her hands in his. “We almost died. And all I could think about as we were fighting as you. How you were here waiting for me to come home. I thought about coming home to you and our kids, the way I know you’d love them the way you love me, and I don’t want to die without getting to experience that with you,” he explains, and she’s listening intently as she takes in his words
“It’s just… I don’t want you to regret this later. I’d rather not be pregnant or a mother alone or have you resent me because I rushed you into this,” she explains to him, expressing her worries.
He was a little hurt by her words but he understands where she’s coming from, frowning as he sees the tears falling from her eyes. Reaching up he thumbs them away before speaking again. “I know, baby. And I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. I would never,” he starts, pausing to think over his next words.
“I’ve taken a break from saving the world for a bit. They’ve got it under control,” he smiles, pulling her in again as she cries harder at his revelation. “All I could think about while I was in there was us and our family, how happy we could be together. There’s nothing I want more,” he finishes, his little speech making her heart melt.
She scans his face for any sign of regret and when she finds none, she’s all in. He can see her eyes change almost immediately, and she’s taking her shirt off before throwing it somewhere in the room. “Well if you’re ready, why don’t we get to it?” she questions, and there’s no hesitation. He’s up and stripping so fast she has no time to comprehend it. The moment he’s naked he finally looks up at her to see her with her legs spread, a hand in between them.
Thinking back on that day now, he can’t believe he even thought like that. All he can imagine now is the fact that he’s about to get his own personal slice of heaven, manhandling YN until she’s on her hands and knees in front of him. To provide himself with even more access to his favourite place he just reaches forward and pushes on her back until her face is buried in the duvet.
Seeing her all dripping and clenching around nothing sends the last bit of his restraint practically bleeding from his body as he takes his cock in his hand and strokes it a few times. YN wants to look back and see what he’s doing but she knows better, staying where he’s placed her.
“Can’t believe this is all for me,” he chokes, rubbing his thumb over the leaking, throbbing tip of himself. It’s only a few more seconds of his filthy moans and grumbling under his breath about how beautiful she looks before she’s inhaling sharply at the feeling of him parting her lips with his thumb and spitting filthily right where she needs him, her weepy hole clenching around nothing in anticipation.
“Please,” she begs, and Steve, never being one to deny her when she looks and sounds so pretty for him, obliges almost instantly. Not even a seconds later he’s gently gripping the base of his aching cock and parts her lips with the head, running it through to lubricate himself before he’s got the tip nudged at her entrance.
The sound it makes when he finally sinks himself into her is nothing short of obscene, a wet squelching sound accompanying the both of their moans of relief. He can barely contain himself when he immediately begins to thrust in and out of her, his body seemingly moving on its own to take what they both need.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to see you pregnant,” he grunts, his thrusts getting harder as his thoughts get dirtier. “Gonna keep you so full of my cum at all times to make sure it sticks. God, I can imagine it now. How beautiful you’ll look round and full of our kids,” he continues, and the way he used it in plural form doesn’t get lost on YN, her loud moans of pleasure being muffled slightly by the sheets.
Steve, always being one to want to hear what he’s doing to her, reaches forward and grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her up until he can hear her loud and clear. He can feel her legs start to shake and give out beneath her but he’s holding all of her weight up, fucking her as if his life depends on it, and to him it does. “You like the sound of that?” he asks, not slowing his punishing pace.
She can barely nod with the grip he has on her hair but she manages to, choking out a plea for him to do exactly that. “You wanna be so full of my cum at all times that you’re leaking down your legs, exhausted from how many times I work you on my cock?” he grits out through clenched teeth, trying to stave off his impending orgasm in an attempt to wait for hers.
No more words can leave her lips, just cries and sobs of pleasure as he’s drills so deep inside of her she can barely breathe. I mean he has to be puncturing her lungs at this point. Her orgasm is coming and it’s coming fast, but of course she can’t warn Steve, speechless. He knows her inside and out, though, and doesn’t need a warning to know what’s coming. (double pun is crazy)
“I know, don’t have to tell me. I can feel how tight you’re squeezing my cock. Go on, soak me, show me how much you want to be full of me and I’ll do just that,” he demands, and YN, always the obedient one, cums instantaneously. Her orgasm makes his hips stutter immediately as she locks down on him so tight, her body so tense that he can’t move. He lets go of her hair in a split decision, and he’s glad he did. He uses that same hand to reach around and rub at her clit quickly, making her tense up even tighter before relaxing entirely as she squirts all over the bed sheets below them, Steve praising her throughout the entire time.
Her orgasm sends him flying over the edge with a loud swear, his hips flush against hers as he floods her with his warm cum. It seems like it lasts for forever, his balls seeming to get fuller the more he cums. When he’s finally drained of all he has he stays buried inside of her for warmth for a while before he’s pulling out slowly and just sitting there and watching his cum start to drip from her.
He helps her fully lie down on her stomach before he’s getting off the bed, shushing her whines of protest. “Just gonna get you cleaned up, gonna be right back,” he coos, running a hand on her back to ground her a bit more so he can leave. She gives him a weak nod and then he’s hurrying out of the room to get a wet washcloth for her.
The process of cleaning her up is a bit rough with how sensitive she is but he makes it work, cleaning her up quickly and throughly before cleaning himself. He then helps her to the bathroom to pee, her body very weak but he knows she needs to do so.
When she’s all done they end up going into the guest room and sleeping there instead of sleeping on their soaked bed, Steve making a mental note to clean up first thing in the morning, he’s way too exhausted right now. When in the room, he helps her get all comfortable and tucked in before turning off the light and climbing in as well, pulling her into his embrace. The both of them start to doze immediately, and within a few minutes they’re both out, soft snores filling the room.
~
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Rainy Mornings
Pairings: Chris Evans x Wife! Reader
Word Count: 647
A/N: 18+ Reader, Smut, Morning Sex
Summary: Chris’ POV of a rainy morning with his wife.
Chris POV
The thunder wakes me up and I look over at the clock and it’s 6:00am. The room feels exceptionally dark on rainy days and I look over at Y/N and she’s sleeping facedown, using her forearm as her pillow and her face in my direction. Her curls are wildly covering the top of her head, her lips looking pouty. I can’t help but stare at her features and just smile. How did I get so lucky to have this angel as my wife? The thunder startles her a bit out of her slumber and she reaches for me and puts her arm across my chest and her leg over my waist. She puts her face into my neck and she inhales and kisses me lightly on my neck. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and lean down to kiss her forehead. “Morning sunshine.” She smiles up, “Hi, you sound like you’ve been awake for a while.” He chuckles, “Thunder has had me up for a while, I’ve been just laying here.” She sighs, “It’s early, let’s go back to sleep.” As she pets my chest hair and as I do every morning I immediately want to bury myself in her until it’s time to get up. “I have something better in mind, come warm up my dick babe” You start to grab her hips and pull her on you, she looks so beautiful over me. Her curls making her look like a lion, her eyes still a bit puffy from sleeping, her lips smiling down. She has one of my T-shirts on, only. I lift the t-shirt off of her, she leans down and pulls my boxers down, and she leans down to pet my beard before kissing all over my face. With her other hand she reaches between us and grabs my dick from the base and runs the tip of my dick through her wet folds. She finally brings me to her entrance and sits herself all the way down until I’m fully in her. We both sigh and groan at the same time, she’s so wet and warm like she always is. She looks down at me as we hear the rain and she puts her hands on my chest, she looks down and starts moving her hips in the slowest rhythm. I grab her hips and pull her hips back and forth, while she runs her hands up her own body and towards her nipples. She gently pinches her nipples and moans when I squeeze her ass. She parts her lips and sighs, “I love you, Chris” and she reaches down and runs her fingers through my hair as she kisses me lazily. I sit up so we’re facing each other and she continues to ride me. I run my fingers into the back of her head and with my other hand reach down between us and rub my thumb on her bundle of nerves. She moans into my mouth and I can feel her tighten around my dick. I groan with the sensation of this beautiful pussy wrapped around my dick. She starts to ride me harder as I rub her clit faster and she grabs the hair on the nape of my neck and throws her head back, “Omg, papi…” I continue to rub her clit and now I’m getting closer to reaching my climax and I can feel her tighten around me again and I know we’re about to reach it together. I kiss her neck and say, “let go, baby”. She squeezes my shoulders with her hands and she moans my name again as I release hot spurts into her warmth. I throw myself back and she falls on top of me. “Stay on top of me baby, keep it all inside of you.” She sleepily looks up and snuggles her face into my neck again and says, “let’s sleep a little longer before the little one wakes up in like 2 hours.”
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can we get a slight drabble of new hire ari worshiping reader? 😏
nonnies, you’re not the only ones with New Hire on the brain! i hope you all enjoy this little peek behind the curtain 👀
Title: Itch
Pairing: Alpha!Ari Levinson x Naive!Omega!Reader
Summary: You get the feeling you’re needed at home.
Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Ari, Smut, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do not eat, MINORS, DNI!, PWP
A/N: i’ve had a few people asking about New Hire. i don’t have a new chapter ready just yet, but i do have this sinful little peek into their daily lives. hope you enjoy!
Your mark itches.
The bite is long healed by now, but you feel a sudden heat course through the scar tissue, pins and needles erupting under your skin as you raise a hand to scratch at the raised flesh. It’s enough to surprise you, make you slam hard on your brakes while other cars beep furiously at you. You pull over, swerving into the breakdown lane as you wipe at the cold sweat beading on your forehead.
Kitten.
You can feel him in the bond, like a phantom hand on your shoulder. You swipe the back of your hand across your forehead, and wrap your clammy fingers back around the steering wheel and navigate back out into traffic. Ari’s car is in the driveway, and you pull in next to it. Your mark is still flush with heat, prickling uncomfortably as you exit the vehicle. Slowly, you make your way up the steps, fitting your key into the lock.
Ari’s scent fills your nostrils as soon as you step over the threshold, pungent and musky. You almost drop your purse as you swallow thickly, fumbling as you try to hang it on one of the many hooks by the door. The air is so thick with the smell of him that you can scarcely make out anything else. Dizzily you drag yourself up the stairs, practically tasting him on the air with every breath you gulp down.
You’re barely feeling the bannister under your numb fingertips as you ascend. The frantically beating heart in your chest rises to your throat as you crest the staircase. The heat from your mark is starting to spread, flowing down your arms to tingle in your fingertips. It washes down your back, making you shudder as you stare blearily around.
Alpha’s here. Needs me.
You scratch at the bite mark again.
It’s as if there’s a thread in your chest, and it pulls taut with every tentative step toward the bedroom that you take. By the time you reach it, you’re practically drowning in his scent, your pupils wide and dilated. The bedroom door is already open, and you stop short of entering the room as your glassy eyes widen further.
Ari’s turned almost completely away from you, the thickly corded muscles of his back bunching and flexing hypnotically as he moves. He doesn’t notice you at first, and remains hunched over the dresser, one hand tensed against the wood as he drags the other down the thickly veined length of his cock. You recognize a pair of your own panties knotted in his fist. He drops his head back as he reaches the base, groaning something that sounds suspiciously like your name.
The pieces fall into place with alarming clarity as you run your tongue over your suddenly dry lips.
Your mate is in rut.
You aren’t prepared for his dark eyes to fall on you as he turns, your breath hitching in your throat. The stormy blue of his irises is almost completely swallowed by black, and you can see sweat beading on his brow and chest. Your face burns with heat, but you are unable to look away from him. A little whimper works it’s way up and out of your tight throat as he speaks.
“Kitten.” He doesn’t stop moving, groaning as he presses the thin material of your panties against his throbbing length. “Come.” It isn’t an Alpha command, but you’re already moving clumsily towards him before you have time to register it. Ari yanks you against his heated skin roughly, pressing his face into the side of your throat with a growl. He tosses your panties to the ground before he begins to work at your clothing, tearing the t-shirt up and over your head before tugging at your jeans, snarling.
“Off.”
He grows impatient as you try to wiggle out of the snug denim, snatching you up by the waist and depositing you onto the mattress. He snatches the jeans down your legs, pressing his cheek to the skin of your bare thigh. You whine a little as he mouths at the already sopping mess of your cunt through your panties.
“Needed you,” he groans. The sharp points of his canines leave raised trails as he drags them across your sensitive skin. You’re dizzy, drunk on his scent. Your head is spinning as you reach for him, tangling your fingers in his sandy hair as he laps at you. You yelp as he rips your panties off, the ruined elastic snapping sharply against your skin. Ari drinks from you like a man possessed, his curling his arms around your thighs to keep you anchored to the mattress—and to him.
You aren’t in heat, but for all the sense in your head at the moment you might as well be. Ari flicks at your clit with his tongue, catching it between his teeth and pulling before releasing it. You keen, thrashing in his grip. Ari doesn’t let up, lashing at your oversensitive clit with his tongue until you wail, thighs trembling as you cum.
“Taste sweet,” he mumbles against your folds, and you feel his lips curve against you as you shudder. “So good.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s re-attaching his mouth to your sloppy, sticky cunt.
“God, Ari,” his name is a breathy plea on your lips, one he responds to by slowly uncurling his arms from around your trembling thighs. His soft lips leave goosebumps in their wake as he works his way up your body. You taste yourself on his lips as he claims your own, his tongue sliding sensually against yours. Ari’s skin is fever hot to the touch, and he shudders with pleasure as you shyly reach between your bodies to graze your fingers against his leaking cock.
His breath ghosts across your cheek, and you relish the burn of his stubble as he drags his teeth down your throat, towards your mark.
“My perfect little mate,” he murmurs, his voice so low you’re not entirely sure the words were meant for your ears. Your breath hitches when he nips you, catching your skin between his sharp teeth. “Soft and sweet and mine.” The words end in a growl. Ari runs his tongue across the perfect ring of teeth marks lining your shoulder, and as they slide home like keys into a lock, your pussy clenches hard around nothing. Ari’s hips buck into your hand, and he shudders a little as you run your thumb across the head of his cock.
You stare up at him, the room spinning when he pulls away, his lips tinged pink from reaffirming the mark. His cock slides wetly against you and your hips buck without your permission. Ari is gone with rut, his eyes dark and glassy as he pumps his cock in his fist, staring down at you. The base is already thick, his knot half-exposed—a testament to just how far gone he is.
His entry drives the breath from your lungs and forces you a few inches up the mattress. You keen, and Ari throws his head back with a groan. He’s already thick, so thick it leaves you aching every time, but with the addition of his knot, you’re choking on air with every thrust.
“Needed this,” he repeats, the words almost lost in the bestial growl. You don’t even think he’s talking to you anymore, unaware of the words leaving his lips as he drives into you like a man possessed. “Need you, Kitten,” he rasps. “Need to feel you on my knot, gonna split you open with it—”
It’s as though you’re drowning, fingernails digging hard into Ari’s back as he ruts into you. The stretch and burn of his knot in your cunt is practically sinful, drawing fresh tears from your eyes as you gasp. You can feel the instincts in your hindbrain pressing up to the surface, the bestial thing residing there crowing with joy as Ari’s cock spears you open over and over again.
You cum with a pathetic mewl, arching your hips up toward Ari. He bares his teeth as you tighten around him, your walls milking his cock. There’s no respite for you from the dizzying pleasure, though, as Ari lifts your thigh, pressing your knee to your chest so he can sink in deeper.
“My Omega.” Ari snarls possessively, his fingers digging hard into your hip and thigh. “My Omega, my Omega, mine,” he repeats the words deliriously, his eyes locked on the bruised mating mark on your throat. You’re strung out from the pleasure, your limbs shaking and overtaxed, and still you can feel that taut string in your chest pulling tight again as he works you towards your third orgasm of the evening.
“A-Ari, Ari I, I can’t,” you whine pathetically. “I can’t cum again—”
He leans down to drag his lips across yours, tasting the salt of your pleased tears with his tongue.
“You can, Kitten,” he rasps, his eyes flashing. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay—” His thrusts shorten as you wail, your cunt squeezing around him while your eyes roll. Wet, sticky warmth bathes your throbbing and overtaxed cunt, while Ari’s knot swells inside of you, locking him in place as he pants over you, sweaty hair falling across his eyes.
He curls over you, dropping to the mattress and taking you with him, rolling onto his back. Slowly, his breath begins to even out, and he releases your hip from the iron grip he’d held it in. You try to move, but Ari bares his teeth in warning before nuzzling against your mark.
“Welcome back, Kitten,” he says hoarsely, his hands moving reverently over your back. “I missed you.”
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You’re In Big Trouble, Miss
Chris Evans x Reader Smut
Summary: Chris doesn’t really like coming second to Y/N’s vibrator.
Warnings: daddy kink, use of vibrator, masturbation, multiple orgasms, use of wand, use of sex machine, fingering, overstimulation, pussy smacking
As Chris was away at an event, he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. His number one rule was that you weren’t allowed to touch yourself without his permission. But you missed him and he wouldn’t be back for a whole day, so here you were, your panties round your ankles and a vibrator on your clit. “Oh fuck! Oh god, Daddy! Fuck me!”
As you masturbated faster, you felt a warm hand on your knee. Wait, that wasn’t your hand? What? You opened your eyes, seeing your boyfriend between your legs. “Daddy, I-“
“No, baby, no excuses. You know you can’t do that without my permission,”
“I didn’t know you were coming home early,”
“That doesn’t mean shit, Y/N. You shouldn’t do it whatever time I’m coming home. But okay. If you wanted to come, let’s make you come,”
What?
Chris took your hand that was holding the vibrator and helped you shove it deeper into your vagina, making your legs shake violently as you came. “That’s one,” He announced.
He moved, opening the box next to your bed containing all your sex toys, grabbing your wand. Surely he wasn’t going to use both on you?
You were wrong. He turned it on, holding your hand so your vibrator would stay where it was, and moved the wand over your clit. In the space you had left down there, he started to finger you roughly, until you came a second time. “Two,”
He turned them both off, grabbing your sex machine from under the bed, plugging it in and grabbing you, making you sit on it. He grasped the remote in his right hand. The machine had six levels, and he put it on the second one. When you tried to get off the machine and calm down, he held you there, turning it up to level 4. You already knew you were about to come soon, and so did your daddy. He smirked, quickly turning it up to level 6. “AAA DADDY!” You screamed as you came, falling off the machine and onto the bed.
“We’re not done yet, bad girl,” He told you, fucking into you from behind. Your little pussy couldn’t take it. He meant it when he said he would make you come. You were so overstimulated. You came on his thick cock, letting him pull out and squirt his load all over your ass. “Is that enough, Y/N? Are you satisfied?” He asked, smacking your overstimulated pussy.
#marvel#chris evans#marvel blog#marvel cast#marvel x reader smut#chris evans x reader smut#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x you#chris evans x girlfriend!reader#cevans#cevans x reader#cevans smut
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Can anyone recommend any good Chris fics where he has a kid he doesn’t know about then finds out?
Please list your recs if you have them!
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if you guys have any blurb requests or dialogue prompts i’m down to write!!!
harry styles
chris evans and characters
sebastian stan and characters
#harry styles smut#harry styles filth#harry styles fic rec#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles fic#ceo harry styles#fic rec#smut#harry related writings#chris evans#chris evans smut#cevans#cevans smut#sebastian stan#sebastian stan smut#seb stan#seb stan smut
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₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
nomad steve is a big fat fuckin MUNCH. idc idc idc. nobody can change my mind. that man eats pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner. he is STARVED.
you wake up? his head is in between your thighs. your working? he wants you to sit on his face while you do it. your doing the dishes? best believe that man is on his knees tongue deep inside your pussy desperate to have you cream all over his face. making comments like
“you just looked so good baby i couldn’t help it, had to get a taste of you”
“you like it when daddy sucks on your clit while you finish your chores? yeah? fuckin dirty girl”
“fuck honey, cum in daddy’s mouth, come on give it to me”
“pussy tastes like fuckin heaven”
one thing he does not stand for is hovering. when he tells you to sit on his face, he means sit on it. he’ll be grabbing your hips, pulling you down onto his face, his rough beard rubbing against your thighs while his tongue explores your dripping heat and you know damn well he eats it in the morning so he can smell your pussy on his facial hair during the day, his tongue darting out to lick over his moustache, savouring the taste of your juices.
your spread missionary as he suckles and nibbles on your clit, his fingers fucking into you at a desperate pace, missing the taste of your cream even though he’s already had you twice today, his mouth opening wide as you writhe and squirt on his tongue, watching him as he moans and grunts, his hips rocking into the mattress beneath him as he fills his boxers with hot n sticky ropes of cum
“jesus christ” he breathes, “got me cumming in my pants like a damn teenager sweet girl, thats how fuckin good your pussy tastes.”
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
#chxrrys prompts#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfic#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#nomad steve rogers x reader#nomad steve rogers#chris evans smut#cevans prompt
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shower
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!),smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation kink (he calls us whores, like three times??) shower sex, wall sex (?), age gap, and more..
important: English is not my first language so there will probably be a lot of mistakes but there is nothing to be done, and it is my first time writing smur so don't attack me!!!
characters: dbf!steve rogers x fem!reader
I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! kisses
Steve Rogers was never as obsessed with a person as he was with you. He vividly remembers the first time he saw you, in that red dress begging to be fuckedYou were like a hurricane, bringing chaos and desire to every breath he took. He knew it was wrong, that you were taking him down a dangerous path, because you were his best friend's daughter, but he couldn't resist. With a penetrating gaze and a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. You involved him in your games, in your dark fantasies that scared and excited him at the same time.And that's how you ended up in this current situation, being fucked in the shower by your father's best friend.
Your parents had gone on a trip to celebrate twenty-five years of marriage, and even though you were 20 and completely capable of taking care of yourself, your father asked Steve to keep an eye on you.
“I've been dying to fuck you ever since I saw you in that tiny red dress, you were practically begging, weren't you whore? That's it, isn't it? You just needed a big fat dick in that cherry.”
His hands tried to hold onto the stall in a failed attempt as Steve frantically thrust into you, you could feel his balls hitting yours against your clit as he pushed harder and harder into you…
your breasts jiggled as you were thrust into you. Steve moaned hoarsely, you felt every vein, every tiny vein inside you, the complete sense, his hands held your waist while the hot water ran between the two of you, giving him more access to fuck you hard... you look over your shoulder with some difficulty and then you see him, his hair was messy, some strands stuck together, his mouth was being pressed because he was biting his lips heavily and at the same time making a face.
“FUCK” he moans loudly, starting to move quickly and forcefully, not giving you time to breathe properly... the butterflies were playing with you, his trembling hand even went towards your clitoris when he started to rub it quickly, giving you spasmsHis mouth opened in a wordless moan. The glans hit the depths of his intimacy, making his lower belly burn. You had no idea how many times you had cumHer body shook violently and Steve watched her cum on his dick.
“Tell me, whose little whore are you?” His hoarse voice echoed through the bathroom along with a loud slap, you just swallowed soundlessly when he started moving again.“Stevee” you moaned when he hit that spot, you were already sore“So it’s here? Hmm?" he asked and you moaned in response.
He growled in his ear before pushing his body onto the bed and starting to thrust making you scream in pleasure “Whaaat? Do not handle it? Weren’t you the one thirsty for cock?” laughed while you whimperedYou moaned in a sob when the older man pushed everything in, squeezing your neck with one hand and making you orgasm again in such a short time.Steve withdraws his member and you let out a sly moan.
He soon bends down watching the abused entrance dripping all his cum.Her swollen clitoris pulsed, her breathing was heavy, her legs were wobbly. When you thought it was finally over, he smiles and then goes back into the hot grip in a brutal way, hearing your surprised scream.
#chris evans#andy barber#andy barber x reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans fanfic#chris evans smut#steve rogers x reader#andy barber smut#steve rogers smut#female reader#cevans#andy barber x female reader#Curtis everret x reader
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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞.
✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚
✧.* : ̗̀➛ dark!ari levinson x female!reader (non-descriptive)
✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 475.
✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: verbal humiliation, ball-sucking, references to face slapping, dirty talk, filthy ari.
✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: anonymous
✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: the big one is here!! this one was really fun to write; although i do need to get better at writing dirty talk as idk i just struggle with it but that's the whole point of these little drabbles. if u have any pointers pls don't hesitate to drop them in my ask box, i always welcome help!! anyway! enjoy my ari lovin' besties!! pls lemme know what u think & check out the main masterlist if this is the first your seeing anything of this series!!
*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.
*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.
Ari sat, propped up by an assortment of pillows against the headboard, head tipped back; long sandy strands clung to the sweat on his brow.
Soft amber glows from the setting sun snuck in through the glass panes, covering your naked body with a fading warmth as you laid between his legs. Red lipstick smeared over your lips, cheek and chin; the same red lipstick covered Ari’s thighs in pretty kisses smudging under your fingertips as you kneaded his thighs as you lapped at the skin of his balls, letting out soft, muted moans that made Ari reply with pleased hums and chesty grunts.
Heat burnt across your cheeks and the burning remnants of Ari’s heavy palms on your thighs blended together. The hues of red smeared across your face was complimented by the muted pink of your tongue, skilfully rubbing at the underside of Ari’s balls before your lips parted to suck one slowly into your mouth.
‘’That’s it, Pup,’’ Ari groaned, slow and deep; hand stroking over your hair, his hand settling lightly on the back of your neck; the sudden softness from the heaviness of his hands earlier caused your head to spin. ‘’Such a good pup.”
You whined at the sound of his drawled praise, pleasure filled and throbbing core. Your hips humped at the sheets below you, hopelessly trying to find enough pressure to relieve the ache between your legs. Ari’s chuckle soon brought you out of your head as you peered up to find his gaze locked on you, a smirk pulled at his lips.
‘’Pathetic little Pup, humping the sheets like a bitch in heat. Live for nothin’ but to be used— nothin’ but hole,’’ Ari taunted, hand now gripping the back of your neck, drawing you closer to his sack. ‘’And you fuckin’ love it. You know you do. You’d waste days between my thighs, wouldn’t you, Pup?”
A pitiful whine escaped your throat as you were forced to lower your gaze from his intense stare, trying to sink into the sheets while keeping your mouth and tongue running over his balls.
‘’Tryna’ hide from me, Pup?’’ Ari teased, fingers finding your face to tilt your eyes back to him. ‘’Don’t go shy on me now,’’ Ari continued, teeth on show as he gleamed down at you. ‘’I know that slutty mouth can fit more than one in there; will stuff your mouth full if I have to.``
Ari’s threat made you push yourself, widening your mouth and using your fingertips to manipulate both of his heavy balls to settle against your tongue. Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning softly around the skin, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth; stuffed to the brim and overflowing with everything Ari.
‘’That’s it, get ‘em dripping, pet,’’ Ari moaned into the open air. ‘’You fuckin’ love it,’’ Ari repeated breathlessly as a hand disappeared from your hair and moved to fist at his leaking cock. “Gonna keep you there forever.”
#chris evans#ari levinson#dark!chris evans#dark!ari levinson#ari levinson smut#ari levinson x y/n#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levison x reader#chris evans characters#dark chris evans fic#dark au#dark verse#pete's place#ari: pete's place#cevans#lila writes#lila's drabbles#pete's place: the drabbles
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I am not saying I want Steve Rogers to bend me over his desk and whip my ass to get me to do/finish my homework but that's exactly what I am saying.
#or any cevans daddy#or grizzly ass bucky#please i need the motivation#god#i hate math and i hate homework and i hate study#omg but andy would fit in the scene so well too#i need my ass beaten honestly or i am never gonna study properly#kai rambles#chris evans#chris evans characters#chris evans character fanfiction#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers smut#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#chris evans character x reader#steve rogers x smut#steve rodgers x reader
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Over And Over - Ari Levinson Smut
Summary: Ari Levinson is a possessive man, he'll punish you till you apologise.
Pairing: Ari Levinson x Fem!Reader
Warnings: main kink: overstimulation, smut, dom/sub dynamics, possessiveness, praise kink, mild degradation kink, nickname - princess, oral f receiving, p in v, implied multiple orgasms, cockwarming, edging, nicknames: neshama sheli - my soul, metuka - sweetie/sweetheart, MINORS DNI, not red sea diving resort compliant.
A.N: ari is a feral, feral man but i think he's an adorable bear at times, this is not one of those times.
Word Count: 1k
Main Masterlist || AO3 || Kinktober Materlist
The haze is muted blue, sloshing of waters echoes in your mind, gaze unfocused but you feel yourself at the edge. A burning, numbing feeling creeps along your spine.
In a sense of deja vu you reckon, there is a distant sound of pleasure, followed by a choked sob. The buzzing stops, you sigh in relief. For what? Your mind searches through the haze.
“Oh sweetheart, too much?” Ari’s deep timber hums, your gaze moves from the swirls on the ceiling to the darkened almost blackened blue of his irises.
The sloshing returns in tandem with the deep strokes of his fingers, Ari reignites the flame and your mouth only knows to whimper and moan for him your thighs try to close. He only laughs at your feeble attempt to keep him away from what is his and his only.
“Oh sweet baby, you can’t keep my hands away from this greedy cunt. Come on now, give me my fifth orgasm. Come for me. I know you’re so close. Look at this filthy mess of your thighs and the sheets.” Ari croons, his voice both punishment and salvation the coil snaps, your walls spasm around his fingers pulling them back in because you can’t tolerate feeling empty. Its what landed you in trouble the first place.
“Look at all of this, mess of my hand, my thigh, my beard. All thats left is my cock. You want it don’t you, my little filthy, pretty slut.” Ari pinches you clit making you cry out.
“Please Ari—,” the sensitivity begins, even the soft satin of the sheets is brushing over your skin in bruising kisses. Aftershocks push through your form. Tears pooling in your eyes.
Ari’s lips trace over your collar bone, beard brushing over your flesh. His lips wrap around your nipples, sucking on the nub, he repeats the same to the other.
“Please what sweetness? Didn’t you want this? Sent me all those filthy little pictures.” Ari’s teeth graze around your nipple, the peaks hardened aching for attention, this fingers toy with the other.
“Ari, Ari, Ari—,” your hands find respite; his biceps, your nails dig in, Ari bites down on your nipple. He hisses you preen. Body keeping your limbs apart. The hard planes of his abdomen flush against your puffy core.
“How many more? Got me aching for your cunt. But what was it you said?” He wonders, grabbing your face. Eyes intently looking int yours.
“I’ll give you everything you want metuka, you know this, don’t you.” He promises, your hips raise against your will, clit brushing against the trimmed hair, “Greedy little girl. So perfect.”
Ari brushes his knuckles over your cheeks.
“You know what you have to say metuka this punishment will end.” His patience is wearing thin, he needs the apology from you. You can’t even remember.
“Oh, is little baby cock drunk? Can’t remember what she said? Lets see if your favourite vib—,”
“No,” you grasp his hand, “Need you, Ari.” You bite your lip but he only smirks.
“Metuka, I need you too, but you complained about finding someone else to keep you coming and full. Now, Four on the vibrator when I left the room and one on my fingers, one of my thigh, see just two more out of the eight. For the number of times you took his name while touching yourself and sending me a fucking video.” Ari growls, you whimper.
Warmth engulfs your nipple, you feel yourself grow slicker. Ari’s tongue swirls as he sucks upon the nub, fingers giving the other attention, he keeps switching. Every touch amplified, your stomach tightens.
Clit pulsing for attention, you arch in his unrelenting grip. Just as you’re at the edge he stops, he slips out of your grasp, you’re about to complain.
His mouth sucks on your aching clit. Tongue swirling around the bud. You moan, head pressing into the pillow, his beard rubs deliciously against the puffy lips.
Your broken sounds urging him onward, stomach tightening then he slows.
Your tongue acts on its own accord, your mind desperate for release, “Ari I’m sorry, please, please—oh,” you choke on your words a scream ripped from your throat as he fills you to the brim, the stretch burns so deliciously.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Ari hums appreciative, “Metuka, fuck,” he grunts, hips begin to snap and the tendrils retirn, his thick veiny cock hitting that spot as though he placed it right where his tip curves. Your legs spread wide one on his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your throat.
You cum undone, a whine escaping your lips.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, little filthy girl, creaming ovver my cock, fuck cunt’s sucking me in. You’re gonna milk my cock aren’t you? Pretty little slut.” His pace picks up, you only know Ari’s name it is music to his ears.
Urging him on he can feel himself close he takes his palm away from your thigh. Calloused fingers rub at your clit.
Your body spasms as do your walks, Ari groans your name as he spilled inside you. You moan voice cut off by his lips on yours as your final orgasm takes over.
Ari watches you, enamoured by your arousal snd his pooling at the base of his cock. Love-bites he left ob your tits glowing with the sheen of sweat that covers your delicious skin.
He manoeuvres you sideways, cock sliding back inside you as he pulls you to his chest pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder.
Your whimper as he shifts inside you.
“Have to keep you full, Metuka. You begged for it, I’m not done, that was just your punishment. Did so well for me.” He praises, hands running over you softly.
You nod, turning to capture his lips with yours, Ari hums, “Need to have you marked with my cum, tasting like me as well.”
“Ari.” You huff tired.
“In time Metuka.” He chuckles, kissing your cheek.
“I love you, neshama sheli.” Ari confesses against your shoulder.
“As I love you, neshama sheli.” Your fingers run through his hair.
-x-
#ari levison x reader#chris evans#chris evans x y/n#ari levinson smut#ari levinson x female reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans smut#chris evans series#chris evans drabble#chris evans x you#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x female reader#frostironfudge#chris evans characters#chris evans one shot#cevans#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson imagine#ari levinson one shot#ari levinson blurb#ari levinson x plus size reader#ari levinson x reader
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Chris and Reader public sex maybe? Bonus points if they get caught👀
~
Deep moans fall from both Chris’s and YN’s lips as he slips inside her from behind, bottoming out in one smooth thrust. Almost immediately he has to drop his head onto her shoulder, feeling his cock already start to twitch inside of her. She’s watching him closely in the mirror, smirk forming on her face at how gone he is already.
“No, fuck,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut as she moves her hips against him, teasing him. “Already fuckin’ ruining me, give me a minute,” he breathes, his Boston accent getting thicker as he strains to stave off his orgasm. Hands tight on her hips, he holds her still as she continues torturing him, and he’s considering just pulling out and cumming on her ass and leaving her to finish herself off as punishment but she feels to fucking good to leave right now.
“The whole point of a quickie is that we’re quick, I don’t care if you don’t last just fuck me,” she rushes, her brattiness pissing Chris off and making him even more gone for her all at the same time. She presses her hands onto the sink in front of her and tries to use it as leverage to fuck herself on his cock, smiling to herself when he chokes on another moan.
He’s had enough, gathering his bearings before removing one hand from her hip to bring it to her neck, pulling her upper body to him. His lips are right next to her ear as he pulls out slowly just to slam into her with so much force that a surprised moan falls from her lips and her hands flail to grip the counter tighter.
A dark hum rumbles deep in his chest as he repeats the action, gauging her reaction. “I think you forgot who’s in charge here,” he teases, applying pressure on either side of her neck with his one hand.
Her eyes have already taken purchase in the back of her head, her mouth wide open as he picks up his pace, the leaking head of his cock ramming her g spot with each thrust. She’s unable to form a single thought, the only thing occupying her mind is the feeling of him fucking her so perfectly, managing to render her speechless in mere seconds.
“Look at that,” he coos condescendingly, not letting up on his thrusts. “All that talk and now you’re all cockdrunk for me. Dumb little baby just needed to be put in her place, hm?” he teases, now using his grip on her throat as leverage to fuck her deeper. The sound of skin slapping fills the restroom and they’re both certain that they can be heard from outside but Chris doesn’t care, his thrusts unrelenting.
Her moans increase tenfold when he manages to graze her cervix, her legs starting to shake beneath her as her orgasm builds deep in her belly. It’s like a third sense to him at this point, and he lets go of her throat just to press her face into the cool counter in front of her, once again using both hands on her hips as leverage. His thrusts get much harder as he knows that is what will get her there, and he’s just watching where they’re connected, her wetness starting to drip down the both of their thighs.
“That’s it, princess. Take my cock just like you were made to,” he grits, his thrusts getting sloppy as his orgasm approaches once again. “Cum for me, and I’ll give you what you need,” just then there’s a loud knock on the bathroom door, angry swears following the sound.
YN makes an effort to have at least some remorse and quiet down but it’s so hard when he melts all thoughts in her brain. She’s about to tell him to give up and they can finish at home when he doubles his efforts, seemingly reading her mind. “Uh uh. You’re almost there, and I’m not stopping until you soak my fuckin’ cock. You can do it, just cum all over my cock and I’ll fill you up,” he encourages. It’s like a switch flips in her mind, and she’s immediately taking advantage of her permission to cum, her tight channel locking down onto his cock and keeping him inside her as she cums with a loud cry of his name.
Neither of them are surprised when they hear liquid dripping onto the floor as the result, her cum dripping down her legs and even into her shoes. She’s honestly quite embarrassed that he can ruin her this way, but the thoughts are overpowered by the fog that’s filled her brain. He can feel the evidence of her orgasm dripping onto his fancy shoes as she overloads his senses and he can’t hold his off any longer. He cums with an animalistic groan, filling her to the brim with his orgasm and warming her from the inside.
The knocking continues, the person on the other side of the door threatening to call the police if they don’t come out right now. Once again, he ignores them, holding her close to him as she twitches with the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. When she’s all settled he pulls out gently, and he can see his cum stating to drip out of her. He can’t resist spreading her a little bit further and squatting down to be eye level with her sensitive pussy.
A bold lick between her swollen lips makes her whine in overstimulation but she doesn’t move away, she stays put until he’s had his fill, and then he’s standing up to grab some paper towels to clean her legs, leaving the mess on the floor. He adjusts her dress and fixes his clothes as best he can before they’re walking out of the bathroom.
The look on Chris’s face is nothing short of smug as they exit, making direct eye contact with who he assumes is the man who’d been banging on the door, and by the disgusted look on his face he knew it was. He lets YN walk a little ahead of him as he stops to look the man in the eye. “Might want to get someone in there to clean that up,” he tells him, watching in amusement as his face falls at the meaning of his words.
~
#harry styles fic rec#harry styles smut#harryistheonlyoneforme#smut#harry styles fic#harry styles filth#dbf harry styles#harry styles#harry related writings#dbf harry#chris evans fandom#cevans smut#cevans#cevans fandom#cevans fanfic#cevansfanfiction#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans#chris evans smut
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A/N: I wrote this quickly on my phone and was just thinking Chris today and made this board. Woke up feeling extra needy for affection and intimacy and all I could picture was this sexy man just cuddling me all morning, kissing my face or any body part he could touch in the moment. So, enjoy it! ❤️
Picture him just grabbing you by your hips, pulling you on the couch facing him, your legs on each side of his hips, using your warmth to cockwarm him. He just hugs you tightly while kissing your neck and face, you tuck your head into his neck and just nibble on his neck. You feel his dick start getting harder in you and twitching and before you know it you’re just riding him slowly and sensually. Both of you just as close as could be, kissing away and getting to the point of climaxing together. You feel his warmth shoot up into your walls, you moan his name, “Chrissss” while he sighs Y/N into your neck. You just stay this way for hours, hugging your husband and running your fingers through his hair.
#chris evans#chris evans smut#chris evans fandom#chris evans daddy#chris evans fan fiction#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x you#chris evans imagine#chris evans x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x wife!reader#chris evans drabble#chris evans one shot#chris evans fanfic#chris evans imagines#Chris evans husband#cevans smut
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Title: Reflection
Pairing: Ari Levinson x Reader
Kink Prompt: Reflection [Mirror Sex]
Word Count: 1982
Summary: You love everything about your new house—except for that creepy old mirror in the upstairs hallway.
Warnings: Horror, Haunting, Noncon/Dubcon, Light overstimulation, Mirror Sex, AU: Dark, Smut, MINORS DNI!
A/N: my first kinktober entry!! since all of my prompts were singular words, i just decided to go with the first kink that came to mind. 😈 i really hope you all enjoy this first installment! as always, mind the tags and warnings. enjoy!
Though your nails are already chewed down to the quick, you can’t stop yourself from tearing into them again as the officers come out of the house, one after the other, a straight line of starched blue uniforms. The first one out approaches you at the front gate. You can tell by the irritated look on his face that he hasn’t found anything, that your second call this month is a nuisance, and not one he wants to continue putting up with.
“Nobody inside, I’m afraid,” he says, shrugging as he hooks his thumbs into his belt loops and heaves a heavy sigh. “I know you’re new in town. Wouldn’t be surprised if maybe you heard some things about the house, the way people talk—”
“I heard someone.” You cut him off stiffly. “Walking around, right outside my bedroom door!” Your voice goes squeaky, your throat tight with remembered fear. “Gossip doesn’t make your floorboards creak.”
“Houses ‘round here are old.” His hackles are up now—you’re edging into telling him he isn’t doing his job, and he knows it. “They get real noisy in the winter.” The dismissal is clear in his voice and in his body language as he turns to wave the three other officers back to their squad cars.
“You could try putting up cameras,” he suggests over his shoulder. “But we swept both floors—and the basement—twice. There’s nobody here but you, ma’am.” He taps the brim of his hat. “Goodnight. Make sure you lock up, now.”
I know what I heard.
Even with the all-clear given by the irritated police officers, you’re still loathe to go back inside. You stand there by the garden gate, staring nervously up at your own home. Footsteps—heavy, booted ones—pacing back and forth in front of your door, the shadow of a figure visible beneath the frame.
“I’m not crazy.” You say it softly aloud, clenching your fists at your sides. “I’m not crazy.” With your toes curled so as not to lose a slipper, you shuffle back inside. You’re on high alert as soon as you step inside, ears straining to hear every sound. It’s freezing in here. The drippy faucet in the kitchen had never bothered you before, but now it’s maddening. Every creak and groan of the house shifting and settling is now a footstep, a or a finger tapping against the window glass. The gusty autumn wind becomes the sigh of an unseen stranger in your ear.
You check every room, turning on each light as you go. The electric bill will be sky high next month, but you don’t care. At least if the lights are on, you’ll be able to see the intruder. You tell yourself that’s why you’re doing it, and not because having the lights on makes you feel less alone.
Ever since you signed your name on the deed, it seemed as though your quaint, beautiful house in a lovely suburb just south of the city, had been beset with problem after problem. Issues with the foundation, water, heating—and not least of all, the strangely ornate mirror in the upstairs hallway that you just couldn’t take down. You’re not the handiest person, but you know how to use a drill. Even so, the weird, metal clasps holding it to the positively ancient sheetrock won’t come loose, and you can’t remove it without taking half the wall with it.
A statement piece, the realtor had called it, but the mirror does nothing but give you the creeps. You don’t like looking in it—the colors of your clothing always seem washed out and faded in the hallway light. And for some reason—perhaps it’s positioning, or the way the light filters in from the window at the end of the hall—but you always feel like something’s moving in the reflection, just out of the corner of your eye.
You complete your walk-through of the first floor, even poking your head down into the basement. Just long enough to look around and then tug firmly on the cord to illuminate the scant little concrete room before ducking back out, but still you’d checked. You hesitate at the foot of the stairs, swallowing thickly as you stare up at the darkened hallway.
It’s fine. The officers said it was fine.
The thought gives you no comfort, but you push yourself up the stairs anyway, flicking on the hallway light as soon as you get there. The hallway is empty, of course, and you shake your head at your own childish fears.
Silly. Jumping at shadows.
You head for the bedroom, trying to keep your eyes trained hard on the floor so as not to look at the mirror. Movement in the glass catches your attention, though, and you stop short. The window at the end of the hall is cracked, the cool breeze stirs the curtains. You’re not sure what compels you to keep staring, to squint into the dull mirror. I didn’t see anything. There’s nothing there. Nothing—
A hand.
So faint it’s almost completely invisible, curled around the edge of the curtain. You’re frozen, your heart held so tightly in your throat that no sound escapes it other than the rattle of your own breath. Goosebumps break out over your flesh as you watch the fingers tense, the fabric bunching as slowly, the panel is drawn aside. An eye appears first, followed by half of a wide, toothy grin.
You scream.
The sound tears itself from your frozen throat without permission, unexplainable terror gnawing away the conscious thoughts until only primal instinct is left.
Run.
You turn to flee, your body barely cooperating as fright stiffens your limbs. You only manage a few steps, though, before icy hands fist in your hair and clothing. You wail as you’re tugged backwards off your feet, your back pressed against the mirror. The glass is frigid, even through your clothes. The force of it knocks the wind out of you, breath wheezing through your teeth.
“Don’t go.” A soft puff of air washes over your face, and you whimper. You can’t see anyone, can’t explain what’s happening. You struggle, grunting as you try to push away from the mirror, but it’s no use. Your feet dangle inches off of the floor, your arms pressed tightly to the wall behind you, as if held there by some impossible gravity. Cold fingers trace the curve of your cheek, and you flinch, whimpering. There’s a slight shimmer in the air, shifting and warping like the spots that dance across your vision when you stare too long at the sun. Only, these don’t move, don’t dissipate as you blink fearfully at them.
“P-Please, I—”
“Don’t go.” The voice is stronger, angrier. Invisible fingers grip your chin, forcing it up. “You can’t.” Hot, terrified tears stream from the corners of your eyes. Unseen hands push at your tank top, tugging it up and over your head. Your nipples stiffen in the cool, open air, and you whine as your unseen captor continues his exploration of your prone form. A satisfied sigh fills your ears as those same icy, ghostly hands bunch in the terrycloth fabric of your sleep shorts, ripping them down your legs. Cool, calloused fingers spread your heated lips, flicking at your clit.
“I’ll make you stay,” the voice says, low and determined. Your legs, free of whatever invisible binding had held them, kick frantically at nothing. It’s like he’s there but he isn’t, as your feet connect with nothing but air. Your legs are draped over invisible shoulders, large hands clamping around your thighs to hold them in place. You writhe against the glass, struggling futilely. He laughs, his wintery breath puffing against your heated, moist core.
“You signed,” he says, and you cry out as his cool, wet tongue slides through your folds. “That means you belong to the house, now.” Cold electricity runs up your spine at both his words and his touch. He suckles your clit, pulling it between his lips and worrying it with his teeth. Your thighs tremble, pressing into his shoulders.
You still can’t see him, but you can see the indents his fingers make on your skin, feel the rasp of his beard against your inner thighs. His touch is ice, but the fire building in your belly at every pass of his tongue burns hotter and hotter. The man—the thing—between your thighs eats hungrily, sucking and nipping at your cunt like he’s starving.
Your hips undulate against his face, and you can feel him smiling into the sloppy mess of your cunt as you cum. You do it with a wail, your thighs tightening around the head you can’t see, his tongue buried in your pussy as your walls convulse around nothing. He hums into your soaked, trembling flesh, but doesn’t stop, his thick fingers playing at your entrance.
“N-No, nngh—” Your protests are muffled by your own moans, choking you. Eyes rolling, you pant helplessly at the shimmering shape of a man between your thighs, his fingers curling inside of you. You cum again with a pathetic sob and shuddering breaths, fingernails scraping against the glass.
You don’t know how long he keeps you there, pinned helplessly as he drags you from one unwilling orgasm to the next, until your limbs have all the strength of dry pasta, and you’re shuddering in his arms. When he lowers your trembling thighs, you slide to the floor in a puddle, your legs unwilling to hold you up. The chuckle that sounds in the air in front of you makes you whimper again, your swollen cunt still throbbing.
You feel his hands at your hips, lifting and turning you until you’re on your knees, your face pressed up against the glass. Your breath ghosts across it, fogging the surface. Hazily, you stare into the mirror, eyes widening as you take in the man behind you. You can see him now, reflected brightly—almost too brightly—in the polished glass. Sandy hair falling over his dark, hungry eyes. Naked but for the Star of David on a thin silver chain nestled in his thick chest hair.
“Belong to the house,” he mutters as he lines the head of his leaking cock up with your soaked, swollen cunt. You’re still present enough to whine and huff as the thick head of him begins to press inside. Even after his fingers his cock is still enough to stretch you, and you writhe at the sinfully delicious stretch and burn.
“Belong to me.” He thrusts forward hard, seating himself inside of you with a growl. His fingers are tight on your hips as he leans down over you. “Look.” He grips your face roughly, turning your head and forcing you to face yourself in the mirror. Your glassy eyed, fucked out face stares back at you, pupils wide and dark. His fingers slip into your mouth, and you taste yourself on them.
He rocks into you steadily, his cock punching the air from your lungs and dragging oh-so-pleasurably against your walls until you cum, drooling and mumbling unintelligibly around his fingers, staring at your own face the whole time. The tight squeeze of your cunt makes him groan, hands tightening painfully on your hips as he fucks into you unsteadily. You’re barely aware of the hot breath on the back of your neck, his teeth scraping your skin as sickly warmth coats your swollen walls.
You sag against the mirror, your hot cheek pressed against the cool glass as Ari continues to mumble behind you.
How do I know his name?
“See?” He asks, humming as he strokes your cheek. His cock is still hard inside you, and you don’t have the strength to struggle as he begins to thrust into you again. “You belong to the house.”
fin
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it’s you.
Summary; It’s always been him. You’ve just never noticed it before, until it was too late. One confession in a heated moment changes your entire relationship with Steve.
18+ Content Below the Cut, Minors DNI.
masterlist
“Fuck, Steve.” You moaned out as his hips snapped against your ass, the salacious sound filling the outdated motel room and mixing with his short and breathy grunts, driving you to the edge.
“That’s it, fuck.” The grip on your hips tightened, knowing there’d be bruises left there in the morning, but you didn’t care. “You’re taking me so well, Peach.” He praised, his bare chest meeting your back as he leaned over you, his breath hitting the back of your neck, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear and creating a swooping feeling in the pit of your stomach, your heart practically swelling at his praise. “My good girl.” A soft, high-pitched whine fell from your lips when he punctuated his words with several hard thrusts.
You don’t remember how this situation started, but after a particularly hard day in a new country on the hunt for his best friend and almost getting shot in the process you found yourself in Steve’s bed, the smell of whiskey on his breath clouding your judgement as he pressed himself into you for the first time. Unknowing that he would be forever imprinted on you.
It was a mistake, two friends blowing off steam and fulfilling each other's needs. Nothing about it was romantic. You remembered how your bodies stuck together, the sweat gluing you together, his teeth scraping against your neck creating a delicious burn. It was fast and hard, both reaching your highs quickly.
The next morning you’d snuck out, not wanting the awkward conversation. The realisation that you’d just slept with your friend of 10 years hitting you like a ton of bricks.
You didn’t think it would happen again, just an embarrassing memory, a funny story to laugh about later down the line.
Until the next night when he broke into your motel room in the dead of night and took you again, over and over until the sun started peeking through the curtains. Taking your body apart inch by inch with every languid stroke of his thick cock hitting your cervix, to only put it together again when he cleaned you up after and dressing you in his shirt.
That’s how every night after the first went. No words were spoken during the aftermath, it was never discussed outside the four walls of the dingy motel rooms.
You had no problem being his release, allowing him to blow off steam, because that’s what you were doing. No matter how rough he got during or how soft he turned after, you knew it wasn’t something that could lead to anything.
Not right now anyway.
When the split happened, it was no question that you’d follow Steve. You didn’t even realise your body was silently answering the unasked question of loyalty until you took his hand and followed him out of the compound, Sam and Wanda in tow. Leaving the rest of your family behind without a single thought.
You’d watch an entire city burn if it meant keeping Steve in your life, you’d kill for him.
You had killed for him.
It wasn’t a love thing- well, it didn’t start off as a love thing. Steve had been in your life for 10 years and had been the one thing that remained, never leaving and never wavering. The bond you both shared was something you only read about, something the group had picked up on within five minutes of you first meeting the super solider. Tony expected you to pick Rogers, he saw it coming before he saw the split coming.
He was your soulmate, even if you didn’t know it yet.
“Peach,” his voice sounded strained, the snap of his hips becoming more frantic. He was close, you could tell. You felt as his calloused fingers tips ran down the column of your throat, down the valley of your breasts, along your stomach creating that swooping feeling in your stomach again and finding your sensitive nub, running through your puffy, slick folds.
“Steve,” you whined loudly, your head lolling to the side and finding his shoulder, exposing your throat to him.
The low growl that rumbled in his chest, making your body thrum at the feeling, was feral, animalistic. Just like his need for you. “You feel- fuck you feel incredible Peach, wrapped tightly around my cock, so fucking tight.” He gritted the last part through clenched teeth, his hips never relenting, their assault sending every nerve ending in your body into overdrive. His eyes catching your reflections in the mirror on top of the dresser, his free hand falling to your stomach. “I can feel myself, right here.” He husked into your ear, another loud whine from you. “Watch yourself Peach.” He demanded so calmly, like he wasn’t currently taking you apart with both his fingers and cock right now.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt yourself racing towards your high, the way his fingers expertly plucked, flicked and strummed your clit becoming too much.
Then, all of that was taken away from you. Steve’s hips stilling, leaving him pressed to hilt inside of you and his cock twitching. His fingers no longer strumming you.
Your eyes snapped opened within seconds and your head lifted itself to turn and look over your shoulder at the blonde, but before you could open your mouth to speak the fingers that were marked with your scent and juices gripped your chin, turning you to face the mirror. His eyes were blown with lust, just a small ring of blue remained, his upper lips snarling.
“Steve-”
“I gave you an order, Peach.” He snapped, pulling his hips back only to snap them forward, surging you forward only for his grip to tighten and bring you back flush against his chest. “What was that order?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but words fizzled on your tongue. Your eyes never leaving his in the reflection of the mirror.
“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve gone dumb on me now Peach. Too full of me to remember anything but my name?”
“St-Steve.” You whined out again, your skin feeling hot as you teetered on the edge of your release. You watched as the hands resting on your stomach moved lower, painfully slow. Your hips following his touch and arching forward.
“So responsive to me.” Thrust. “Like you were made for me, and only me.” Thrust. “You’re shaking Peach.” Another thrust, the scream that ripped through your throat had him smirking and smug. His nose trailing along your jaw line, his teeth nipping there shortly after. “My dumb baby.”
“Oh, fuck.” You breathed out, the peak beginning to rise again.
“You like that, Peach? Being called ‘baby’?” Only humming in response, he worked his fingers on your nub again, the heel of his palm pressing your stomach back into him as the speed of his hips increased.
He only ever called you baby when he was buried inside you, making your toes curl each time and a warmth to spread throughout your entire body. Peach had been a name he’d called you after discovering your love for the fruit. The amount of Sunday mornings you’d dragged him to the farmers market to get a fresh basket, that he’d end up carrying because you’d get distracted by the other stalls there. But baby was a new one, and it had such an effect on you, he always felt how you clenched around him when he called you it. It drove him crazy every time.
“Who knew you were a softie.” His voice remained its normal calm and authoritative demeanour, like he wasn’t currently fucking you senseless and turning you dumb, melting your brain. “Now, be a good fucking girl and watch me take you apart.”
Your eyes never left his, the hand gripping your chin moved down to wrap around your throat, applying slight pressure, not enough to hurt you completely but enough to dance along that fine line of pain and pleasure. His thumb reaching up and tapping your bottom lip and without word or demand you opened your mouth a little more and wrapped your lips around his thumb when he rested it against your tongue.
“Fuck, baby.” He groaned out, his forehead resting against the side of your face, his eyes fluttering closed. “One more baby, that’s all I need.” He assured you sweetly, his fingers tapping your clit sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. “No,” he tsked when he felt you shake your head. “I know you can Peach, just one more, I know you want to.”
Your entire body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending sensitive to a slight breeze, your nipples so hard and sensitive they could cut glass.
“Now, fucking cum. Make everyone in this damn motel know who’s making you feel this good.” He gritted, his teeth scraping against your jawline, the grip on your throat tightening slightly. His hips quickening their pace, the headboard rattling against the wall behind you. One more pluck of your tingling bud had your body spasming, convulsing and going rigid under his hold.
“That’s it Peach, good girl.” He whispered, his lips finding your shoulder. “See how beautiful you look when you cum? It’s a fucking work of art.” Your entire body went numb, slumping against his rock-hard chest and being held there when both hands fell to your breasts, roughly squeezing them.
“St-Steve, I-I-”
“Sshh baby, I know.” The feeling of his hips stuttering signalled he wasn’t far behind you. “Fuckfuckfuck,” he punctuated with every thrust until his hips stilled and the most delicious sound fell from his lips, your actual name shortly followed as he rode himself through his own high.
A loud banging on the wall behind you brought you both back to reality, out of the post sex haze you’d both created. The scent of sex lingering in the air, bodies sticking to one another.
“Now you’re both freshly fucked, would you care to join us in jet?!” Sam’s voice boomed through the walls, your cheeks turning a deep crimson at the realisation he’d heard everything. “Hurry the fuck up!” He boomed again, followed by another loud and final bang on the wall before you both heard him laugh and then his own room door shut, indicating he’d headed down to the jet left hiding in the forrest behind the motel.
“Oh my god.” You squeaked, scrambling off the bed, ignoring the emptiness you felt when you withdrew from Steve and grabbing your clothes in a rush.
“Something wrong, Peach?” Steve drawled still on his knees on the bed, proudly displaying every inch of himself as he watched you scramble around his room, dressing yourself.
“Yes,” you squeaked again. “Not only have you pulled orgasm after orgasm until sunrise and my body is thoroughly wrecked, when we have an important mission. But Wilson has the biggest fucking mouth, so that means Wanda knows, not to mention everyone in his fucking contact list.” You huffed out, blowing hair that had fallen over your face out of the way.
“I didn’t hear you complaining. In fact, I believe you were begging me for more?” He smugly quipped back, now standing to his full height and dressing himself. “And Wilson will keep his mouth shut, if he knows what’s best for him.”
You didn’t expect the wave of hurt his words left on you, stilling your movements as you watched him continue to dress himself. Was he ashamed of you? Were you his secret? You knew Steve was a private person, especially when it came to his love life. But he trusted Sam and Wanda with his life, with you. You’d only ever spoken two words to them both when you first left with them, but he trusted them to keep you safe, and you them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?" You couldn’t stop the question from coming out, shocking yourself at how demanding your voice sounded.
Steve’s brows shot up, his ocean like eyes meeting yours, instantly intimidating you. “Exactly what I said.” Was all he said, but his tone had returned to its emotionless and authoritative tone, irking you.
“So, you fuck me in the dead of night but as soon as we step out of this room it's like it never happened?” You snapped, your hands falling to your hips, your blood starting to boil as the seconds went by.
“You got something to say, Peach? Please, don’t hold back on my account.” When you remained silent, he continued, shaking his head as he spoke. “You knew the arrangement-”
“What arrangement?! Steve, we fucked once after one too many whiskeys and I was happy to leave it at that, a way of blowing off steam in this shitty situation. But then you kept coming back. It’s like you conditioned me that way, like I’m waiting for my mouth salivate whenever I hear the click of my motel door opening.” Steve’s scoff was loud and obnoxious, your skin prickingly with irritation making you scrub your hand over your face. “You’re such a self-righteous prick. I chose to leave with you-”
“It was your choice, don’t put that on me.” He spat at you, crossing the room in a beat and coming chest to chest with you. “I didn’t force you to leave with me.”
“Just like you didn’t force me to fall in love with you!?” Your chest was now heaving, your cheeks completely flushed and your fists balling at your sides. The air in the room suddenly becoming thick and suffocating, the realisation and heaviness of words settling in. You watched as the colour from Steve’s face drained, his eyes going wide for only a second before he regained his composure.
You hadn’t realised it until this very moment, like it had been lying dormant inside of you until now. Suddenly, everything made sense. Too blinded by your friendship and the platonic bond you shared to realise you had fallen so far, so deep that he was practically imprinted on you.
Always convincing yourself your bond was purely platonic and nothing more, just two people who were meant to be in each other's lives. And maybe it had been just that to begin with, but somewhere between going on the run, giving up your entire life for him and becoming familiar with each other's bodies, lost in each other’s touch.
You fell in love with him.
He pulled you in, feeding off of your dedication to him.
The realisation winded you, knocking the breath out of you as you stood chest to chest. “Peach,” his voice was softer now, just above a whisper as his hand reached up to cup your cheek. But you backed away from his touch, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else than here. It wasn’t until your back hit the door, the knob of the door digging into your lower back, that you stopped moving.
“I may have chosen this part of my life.” You finally spoke after a few minutes of thick silence, your throat bobbing up and down slowly. “But you, you didn’t consider what it would do to me. Knowing I would leave with you, before I’d even made that decision. I-I put my life on the line for you, we all did.” Even though your voice sounded calm, Steve noticed how your eyes started to well up. “I let you in. I became addicted to your touch, your presence, God- even your smell! Everything about you invited me in! I would watch an entire city burn for you, and you can’t even look in my direction when we step out of this room.” You scoffed, your eyes down casting to the floor.
His name fell from your lips, it sounded so foreign to you. Already missing how he called you Peach. His own lip trembling as he took one small step towards you, but stopped when you flinched and reached for the door knob. “I didn’t know-” He tried assure you.
“Of course, you didn’t. Why would you? You had me where you needed me, under your thumb. Ready and awaiting instruction, Captain.” With a two-finger salute you turned your back on him and twisted the knob, the sunrise beaming through the smallest crack of the open door. “I’ll see you on the jet.”
“Mornin’.” Sam beamed at you as you walked up the ramp of the jet, your bag on your shoulders and your arms wrapped around yourself. His frown fell when you walked past him and found a corner of the jet to sit and sulk in, dropping your bag at your feet and tucking your knees against your chest, resting your forehead against them. “Everything alright?”
“Peachy.” You mumbled, never lifting your head.
“Sam, the jet ready?” Came Steve’s deep voice, cool and calm. His thudding footsteps drawing closer to you, a flicker of hope lit up inside you, hoping he’d come over to fix it or to talk. But that light died as quickly as it came when he walked straight past you, his shadow flying past you.
“Yeah,” Sam cautiously answered, his eyes flicking between you and the blonde super solider, Steve’s jaw set and shoulders hunched. “Wanda’s just doing a check over-”
“Now.” He boomed, sitting in the pilot’s seat with a thud, wordlessly dismissing Sam.
“What’s got you all doom and gloom?” Came Wanda’s sweet voice, her accent still thick and demeanour soft. Her touch fell to your shoulder, her thumb stroking it slowly.
“Nothing Wanda, I’m fine.”
“You know I can read minds, right?” Her tone now playful, giving your shoulder a small nudge.
“Then why ask?” Finally lifting your head for the first time in an hour, your eyes looked tired, mouth dry and limbs stiff from sitting in the same position.
“Because, everyone needs a friend once in a while.” She chirped at you, blinking as she watched you stand and stretch all your limbs, twisting your neck so it would crack before rolling your shoulders.
“Wanda, we’re not friends. We’re just two people who shared the same opinion.” You snapped, watching her face fall and instantly regretting it. The red head stood, smoothing over her shirt before nodding. Her expression turning cold. “Wanda-”
“Understood.” Looking past you she stepped around you and moved to sit beside Steve in the cockpit.
“Great.” You muttered under your breath, rubbing your temple with your middle finger and thumb, groaning in frustration.
You didn’t mean to snap at Wanda, it wasn’t her that you were angry at. It was Steve. Wanda had been a good friend to you over the past year, rooming with her in the motel rooms was something that helped knock down the walls of protection you both had built. The first few nights were spent in silence, both just lying in your separate beds and staring up at the ceiling.
Then, one night, you’d caught her watching Family Guy on the TV in a different language, her brows knitted together in frustration when she couldn’t figure out how to return it back to English. After showing her how to fix it you spent the night talking, before this point you didn’t think much of the red head, just knowing that Steve and the team brought her back after the battle with Ultron, asking you to wipe her records and accept her as one of their own. Clint spoke about the twins fondly, you remembered how he would always have a glint of something in his eyes every time.
“With the night you had last night, you shouldn’t be as irritable as you are.” Sam teased, holding out a bottle of water to you.
Taking the bottle from him you silently maintained eye contact, your eyes never leaving his as you took a sip. But he didn’t waver or back away, signalling he wasn’t giving up. You knew Sam was a talker, always trying to help people with their problems. Hell, he jumped on Steve’s side and helped him search for a Hydra Assassin who used to be his best friend without question.
Loyal. That’s how you would describe Sam Wilson.
Sam had come to like you over the past couple of months, you could take a joke, sometimes even joining in. You put Steve in his place when he got too demanding with the group and you took him and Wanda in as if you’d known them for years, without question. Sure, you were quiet and distant unless Steve was around, that’s when you came alive. But Sam figured it was because of how comfortable you were around one another.
“What do you want, Wilson?” You finally asked, twisting the cap back onto the bottle.
“Wanna talk about what happened?”
“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’ you turned on your heels, grabbing your bag.
“Does he know?” His question had you stilling, your face falling and your heartrate increasing. “I’m taking your silence as a yes and that you didn’t get the answer you were hoping for.” When you didn’t move still, he exhaled through his nostrils. “Just because you don’t move doesn’t mean I can’t see you.”
Finally turning to face him you hold his gaze for long before it wandered around the jet, nervously shuffling on your feet.
“It’s so obvious, to anyone who’s watching that is. I’ve known for a couple of weeks- you're not the quietest of couple-”
“We’re not a couple.” You snapped in defence, your glance casting over your shoulder to find Steve still sat in the pilot seat, listening to Wanda talk about strategies. “Definitely not a couple.” You said quieter this time, knowing Steve would’ve been able to her every word of this conversation.
“Listen,” he started as you turned back to face him. “He’s got a lot on his mind, he’s constantly worrying about Bucky, and finding him. Not to mention he probably misses' home, feels guilty that we’re all here with him, that it had to come to this. Not to mention, he probably misses Tony.” The last sentence made a whisper of a smile appear across your lips, making him beam with pride. “But we won’t tell him that.” His hand fell to your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Just give him time to process, maybe another chance.”
With that Sam left you alone with your thoughts, turning to face Steve and Wanda your breath hitched when you saw him staring right back at you, his blue eyes looking worried? The unfamiliar expression had you frowning in confusion, but before you could blink his back was to you again and he continued his conversation with Wanda as if he hadn’t stopped.
You blinked at his back, unsure of what had just happened. You felt stupid, stood in the middle of the jet, staring at your best friend of 10 years, who you’d been sleeping with for the past 4 months and who you’d just admitted your feelings to. It all felt very, high school to you. But that didn’t stop your heart from hurting whenever you remembered the look on his face back in the motel, or how your heart still swelled whenever he looked your way after.
You were fucked.
Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since you and Steve had spoken, you’d followed Sam’s advice, giving him time and space, but you were becoming frustrated with the new dynamic. Normally attached at the hip, it took great strengths to separate the pair of you from one another, and the distance was starting to get to you. It was like an addiction. Steve was your heroin and you found yourself craving everything about him. At night you laid awake waiting for him to come through the door of the new dingy motel and thoroughly ruin you.
You missed his voice and out of stubbornness you’d learnt to tune him out when he spoke. But when alone you found yourself craving to hear him speak, missing the way he called you Peach or even calling you by your actual name, anything at this point for him to acknowledge you.
You’d apologised to Wanda straight away, hating that you upset her. It took you admitting that you’d never had a female friend before, other than Natasha, for her to understand. But Wanda wasn’t that angry with you, she knew how you worked and how you didn’t talk much about feelings with anyone else apart from Steve. She could see how the distance between you both was affecting you, noticing how you would watch him from your corner of the jet, your eyes hopeful whenever he walked in your direction, only for them to fall when he walked past you.
She’d tried to talk to him about it, causally bringing it up, but she was met with a stern look. Steve had been giving those out like they were candies recently, like he had a permanent stick up his ass. It was driving Sam and Wanda up the wall, especially when they noticed how his eyes would soften for a brief second when you fell into his eyeline.
His mood seemed to shift when Bucky came onto the scene, finally tracking him down. You and Wanda had been the ones to find him, tracking him down to a rundown apartment building. You’d have laughed at the comical moment when he came out of his bedroom, baseball bat and dressed in boxers when he heard you and Wanda breaking in. If the situation wasn’t as serious as it was. It took hours of convincing and ten missed calls from Steve but he finally agreed, something in the way you spoke about Steve, the conviction in your voice and the sparkle in your eyes whenever you said his name convinced him.
You remember the way Steve’s eyes lit up when you finally showed up.
“Steve. Sam.” Wanda called softly, climbing the ramp of the jet, you and Bucky hot on her trail.
His quick and heavy footsteps were the only thing you could focus on, was he running? Then they stopped when he reached the edge, making you stop midway on the ramp. “You’re back.” You didn’t miss the way the corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly at the sight of you. You couldn’t stop yourself from wincing when you saw his phone gripped tightly in his right hand, remembering the missed calls.
It was like no one else existed in this moment, like the entire world had disappeared as he stared down at you. Like the last week didn’t matter anymore. Your heart beating erratically at the thought and your body aching for his touch, to feel his arms wrap around your waist again.
He took one large step forward, his mouth opening like he had something to say. But that died on on his tongue when another body crashed into you, not noticing that you’d stopped in the middle of the ramp. “Sorry,” he mumbled, clutching to the bag on his shoulders tighter.
“Bucky?” The light in his eyes that you hoped was for you diverted onto his best friend, a wide grin starting to spread. “Holy shit.” He mumbled, now storming down the ramp and straight past you to take his best friend in his arms, holding him tightly. That ache in your chest only increased when he wrapped an arm around the brunette, guiding him onto the jet and forgetting about you.
It was a Friday night and the small team had decided to celebrate a successful day of taking down another Hydra base and fighting off the government. It had been a close call for Wanda, but it didn’t take much for her knock them on their asses with a simple flick of her fingers.
Another dingy motel room, but this time you all shared one room, the victory bringing you together almost. You all sat in a circle on the floor, except Wanda who was lying on her front on the bed behind you, her chin resting on your shoulder.
The air in the room was light, the lightest it’d been for a long time.
Things felt normal. Just a group of friends blowing off steam after a hard work week.
Your eyes would catch Steve every so often, linger for a couple of seconds before flitting around the group to not arouse suspicion, Sam being the only one to notice. Making you roll your eyes whenever he raised his brows and smirked behind his beer bottle at you.
“Haven’t seen Steve this relaxed in a long time.” Wanda muttered to you, as you played with the ends of her auburn hair. She was right, he seemed... content. He was making a conscious effort to get involved with the group, but you suspected that had something to do with Bucky and Sam pressuring him to do so.
Your hum in response was soft, your eyes still trained on the super solider as he laughed at something Bucky had said. That familiar warmth spreading through your chest at the sight, the sound was like hearing a song from your past for the first time in years, filling you with happiness at the memories of hearing him laugh whenever you made a bad joke, or the time you used his shield as a helmet to cheer him up. “Yeah,” you mumbled back “it’s nice.”
“Has he spoken to you since-”
“No.” You coldly cut her off, taking a long swig of your beer. You didn’t want to still be affected by your last conversation with Steve, but the way his face fell when you told him how you felt was forever burnt into your retinas. “I need some air.” You stood from your seat on the floor, ignoring everyone's eyes suddenly on you. Swaying slightly from the five beers you’d downed since sitting down.
Like he was tuned into your every move, Steve was on you before you regained balance. “Woah, Peach, you alright?”
“I just need some air.” You muttered, shaking your head slightly to settle your vision.
“You sure?” Warmth spreading from his hold on your shoulders, steadying you. A shiver running down your spine at the rasp in his voice.
“With all due respect, Captain.” Snatching yourself out of his grip, your upper lip snarling. “That isn’t your problem anymore.”
“Peach-” Steve softly called after you when you shoved past him and headed toward the door.
“Give her a minute.” Wanda chimed in, now sitting cross legged on the bed, her bottle resting between her legs.
The cold, autumn air hit you, knocking the wind out of you. You stumbled into the railing, resting your elbows on it as you leaned forward, your eyes looking over at the horizon, the orange sun casting a warm glow on your skin.
Golden hour. Your favourite time of day.
Memories of sitting on the field of the compound with Steve in summer, your kindle in one hand, his hand holding your other as he mindlessly played with your fingers. The picnic you both made long forgotten as you would read to him.
You missed him.
You missed home.
“Golden hour.” The new voice interrupted your memory, making your eyes flutter open. “The only time the world looks peaceful.”
“Something like that,” you whispered back.
You hadn’t spoken to Bucky much since he’d come back with you, he’d been too busy with Steve. But you figured he wasn’t one for talking, like you. Preferring the silence, comfortable in it. Something about him gave you a comfort vibe, maybe it was the way his stare intimidated many, but his eyes gave away how vulnerable he was. Or how soft his voice was whenever he spoke, a striking contrast to how closed off he was.
“You doin’ alright?” He asked, shuffling closer to you and offering you his jacket when he noticed you shivering from the dusk air.
“Yeah,” waving him off and wrapping your arms around yourself. “Just been a long time since we all sat and chatted like that.”
“I get that, it’s been a long time for me to.” He mumbled, placing the jacket around your shoulders anyway. “Being around more than one person can sometimes be intimidating when you’re used to your own company. But everyone’s nice, Wanda can be weird and intense at times. But that isn’t a bad thing.” He shrugged, playing with the label of his beer bottle.
“Wanda’s been through a lot. She means well.” You defended, turning to look at him for the first time since he came outside. “I bet even Steve is different to you now.” You tried to ignore the way your heartrate increased at the mention of his name.
“Nah, he’s still the same old punk he was back then, just beefier and taller.” You both shared a quiet laugh, the birds chirping nearby the only noise between you both. “He cares about you, you know.”
An exasperated laugh fell past your lips, turning to face the horizon again. Not wanting to continue this conversation. Trying to ignore the burning feeling in your throat.
“I know. It’s none of my business, and if I’m overstepping my mark then please, tell me.”
“You’re overstepping, Barnes.” You warned him with a small smile.
“I’m gonna tell you anyway.” He teased, bumping his arm against yours.
“Of course, you are. You know, you’re as stubborn as he is.”
“Thanks.” He beamed down at you, like you’d just paid him the biggest compliment even if it wasn’t intended that way. “Sam told me what happened.”
“Wilson.” You grumbled, your jaw setting and eyes closing in frustration.
“I think you should speak to him, maybe-”
“Why?” You snapped, ignoring the taken aback look stretched across his features. “I said what I needed to say, made my feelings clear. Sam told me to give him time, I’ve done that.” A dry laugh escaped as you twisted your body to look at Bucky. “Tell me Barnes, have you ever had someone treat you like you’re the only person in existence one moment, worship your entire body, condition you to crave everything about them. Then,” the snap of your fingers made him blink in shock. “Act like you’re nothing to them the next?” His silence almost deafening to you, he watched with bated breath as you shook your head. “He fucked with my head, and I’m done.” With your final words lingering in the air, leaving the atmosphere thick and heavy. You spin on your heels and make your way back to the jet, deciding that spending the night on the uncomfortable benches would be better than having to face Steve again.
The feeling of someone else's touch on you startles you awake, your arms going straight into defence mode and fighting off whoever it was.
“Hey, shh, shh. It’s me, Peach. It’s me. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” The deep raspy voice of Steve settled your rapidly beating heartbeat instantly, your eyes fluttering open to find him crouched before you and still dressed in his old and grey tattered sweats, and a plain white top. Whisps of his blonde hair falling out of place and over his forehead, your fingers twitched to comb it back into place.
“Peach, baby,” his eyes softening and wide when he felt how cold you were, your body shivering. You ignored the way your heart swelled at the sound of him calling you baby. “You’re freezing, here.” He mumbled, throwing the hoodie he had resting in the crook of his arm over your body.
Not giving you chance to protest he scooped you up into his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist, and made his way out of the jet and back towards the motel. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his hold, craving the warmth that he radiated. His smell settling you and letting your eyes flutter shut again, your body exhausted and stiff from the uncomfortable sleep you’d just had.
“Wh-what’re you doing?” You mumbled against his neck with your arms tightly wrapped around it. Your teeth chattering as you spoke, making Steve hold you tight to his body.
“Taking you to bed.” He stated matter-of-factly, reaching a motel room door you thought was the one you stomped out of hours earlier. “You can’t, I won’t allow you to sleep in that jet.” With ease he plucked the room key out of his jean pocket and unlocked the door, kicking it open softly and walking in, making sure to kick it closed behind him.
The room was dark, with only one bed in the middle. You may have had five beers before but you certainly remember there being two double beds and a sofa bed, you remember Sam and Bucky fighting over who got the sofa bed for the night. You also remember Wanda chaperoning a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors for it. Bucky winning best out of three.
“Where is everyone?” Your question came out as more of a mumble when you spoke, currently fighting off the sleep that was taking over your body.
“In the other room baby, I got a separate room for us- you.” It almost pained him to stop himself, his heart lurching out of his chest knowing he didn’t have the right make that claim anymore. He’d been subtly calling you baby, hoping you’d notice and you had. Your heart fluttering every time he threw it into the conversation. Like he’d been calling you it forever.
It wasn’t until he placed you on the bed carefully, watching how you curled in on yourself, making yourself small. That he realised how much he’d fucked up, how hurt you were, how exhausted you seemed. He knew you’d been punishing yourself silently for how he reacted, blaming yourself for ruining your... situation.
But he couldn’t blame you, it was all him. It all happened so quickly, it went from you both being on cloud fucking nine after pulling multiple orgasms from your body to you both chest to chest as you held back tears, admitting your love for him. It gave him whiplash.
It’s not like Steve didn’t feel anything for you. He just didn’t know if it was love that he felt. You’d been his best friend, his other half for 10 years. Sure, the lines had begun to blur over the past few months as you explored uncharted waters with your friendship. But that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, it's all he could think about.
It consumed him.
Enamoured him.
It was the reason he started coming to you all those months ago. Why he kept coming back every night, why he took his time taking you apart, why he started to stay after. He never wanted it to end, his heart sinking whenever the sun would creep in through the thin curtains. He wanted you like this every day, in nothing but his shirt, ready and waiting for him. You were his. You belonged to him. And he you.
Before all of this he never questioned your friendship, if there was something more below the surface. Sure, Tony would tease him relentlessly claiming there was. Nat to. But he ignored them, thinking it was just his friend's poking fun at him. “Dude, you’re pussy whipped and you’re not even getting any.” Tony would say, Steve used to recoil at his crass way of words, but the more he thought about it, the more he agreed. “Please.” Nat would always start with when Steve would dismiss their ridiculous ideas of something more between you two, snorting as she smirked. “She’s your little shadow, it’s cute. I’ve known you for a long time Rogers, the longest relationship you’ve had since your little Peach came onto the scene was about a month-” and Tony would always chirp in with, “and that’s because your darling Peach didn’t like her!”
But Steve learnt to ignore their comments, he’d always leave them to come and find you. Finding you always in the lab with Bruce or the library that barley anyone used. Your presence would calm him whenever they riled him up.
He gravitated towards you, always.
If Tony saw him now, he’d laugh and make a snarky comment about always being right.
He missed them, he longed to pick up the burner phone and ring his old friend. He knew missed them to and that was his fault. You being here, was his fault. He took you away from your friends.
That day when you and Wanda went missing for hours, he had fears that you’d gone back to them, knowing you hadn’t spoken in a week and how much you were beating yourself up, how much you missed him. He knew because he missed you to. His mind starting to race with thoughts of you back at compound, settling back into your life with everyone but him, like he never existed. He noticed Sam smirk to himself as he paced the jet, pulling at the ends of his blonde locks. But he chose to ignore his friend, like you chose to ignore his calls. Why were you ignoring him? You knew if he rang, it was an emergency.
He’d never been so relieved to hear Wanda’s voice, he remembers his heart hammering against his ribs, blood rushing to his ears as he scrambled to the ramp. He needed to see you, needed to know that you’d returned. That you hadn’t left him. When he saw you all felt right in the world again, especially when he heard your breath hitch, the way he heard your pulse quicken at the sight of the disbelieved man before you proved you still cared. You still loved him.
Then he saw Bucky. It was like his two worlds were finally colliding. You’d brought his best friend back to him. That’s where you were. You hadn't left him. You were helping him.
Even after what he’d put you through.
It was Bucky who said it first, Sam has been quiet to do so. Wanting him to get there on his own. But during one of their morning runs, that Bucky had now become a part of, his statement blurted between the three men left a heavy feeling of tension between them.
“You fucking her?” The bluntness of his tone made the other two stop, Sam looking between them both, his hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath. The question had been burning on the tip of his tongue ever since he stepped foot on the jet. “Because it sure looks that way.” The brunette continued before Steve could open his mouth to protest. “I’ve seen the way you look at one another when you think the other isn’t paying attention.”
That caught Steve’s attention. You looked at him? One glance in Sam’s direction confirmed his unspoken question, a quiet nod his only answer.
“The day they found me, the way she spoke about you-”
“She spoke about me?” It was the first thing Steve had said all morning and he didn’t care how desperate he sounded. He hadn’t been able to sleep, like most nights without by his side. Missing how your soft snores would lull him to sleep.
“You were all she spoke about.” Was all Bucky said on the matter, turning to continue on their jog leaving Steve stood there as he blinked in shock at his best friend’s admission.
“St-Steve,” your soft voice pulled him from his reverie, your fingers gently wrapping around his wrist, holding him place. His breath stuck in his throat as he watched your eyes flutter open, your lips parted slightly. “Don’t leave me.” You couldn’t stop the words from leaving you, the quiet plea barley echoed around the room and you thought he hadn’t heard you as he stood over you, his eyes flitting between your grip on his wrist and your lips.
Only when you went to let go did he respond. Within seconds climbing over you, his chest pressed firmly to your back, his large arms wrapping around your middle tightly, his face nestled in the crook of your neck. Breathing you in, inhaling your smell. Legs tangled together.
Both finally feeling at peace.
Steve didn’t know what this meant for you both or what was going to happen. No more words were spoken that night. None were needed because as you both held each other, breathing in tune with other, every inch of each other touching.
He had you back, and you him.
For the first time since coming out of the ice, he felt at peace. You were his world now. His heart beat for you.
Your name forever seared into his heart.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female!reader#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x fem!reader#steve rogers fic#steve rogers angst#steve rogers smut#chris evans#chris evans fic#chris evans angst#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans smut#cevans#cevansedit#evansedit
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Okay - I just read a CE fic. He accidentally married his sister’s friend in Vegas. Her name was Mia and she used to date Ryan Key. She ends up going back to Boston with Chris. I know the writer had other stories I wanted to check out but I lost it! :(
Can anyone help locate this.
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