#steve: pete's place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dungeonpuppykai · 3 months

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|| Magnum Opus ||

Summary: She was like a Delta kite; created for flight and triumph. Only her line was wrapped around the fingers of her Boss.

Pairing: Dark Mob Boss!Pete Brenner | Naive Mobster!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Pete Brenner. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), innocent!reader (as innocent as can be), boss!Pete, assassin!reader, corruption kink, age gap (reader is early 20's, Pete is late 40's), Daddy kink, pet names, fingering, p-in-v penetration, thumb sucking, biting, possible degradation and humiliation, power imbalance, boob play, slapping, dark themes.

Note: Yes, I am obsessed with this handsome jerk. Feedback is much appreciated 🩷

MASTERLIST

Naturally, Boss was very pleased.

"Good job, everyone" Pete was leaning against the edge of his heavy work table in his home -that was a literal mansion- office, hands resting in the pockets of his grey dress pants. A long mission that had run the course of half a year had finally concluded tonight at the hands of his ace assassin, Y/n, with the assurance that it was going to earn him millions.

"Okay…" He nodded at the team that had been involved; a line of stern faced cruelty hardened men staring back at him. Some had beards, the others hair that touched their shoulders and the few left still the pinkness of early youth in their cheeks. "Dismissed, drinks and dinner are on the house… You earned it" the parting announcement made the younger members, namely Jake, Syd and Bryce, cheer as they turned to leave but not before the dark haired boy with the long hair reached out for the quiet figure that was still in a corner of the dimly lit room; engulfed in darkness.

Pete was quick to notice Syd beckoning Y/n to join them. When the girl made no movement to accept or reject the offer, the Boss half-smiled to himself before he broke up the rising chant of the boys that meant to urge the girl to join them.

"Y/n, stay behind" he pretended not to have noticed the commotion, acting like it was pure business as always. Though his words caused Curtis to tense up and pause mid-turn, bearded jaw clenching as all of them had at least a faint idea -the older members more than that- of what went down when the Boss made the young girl stay behind. Though a quick look from Ari and a quiet arm squeeze from Steve had the man force his feet to move with much will but only after he had closed his fists in tight balls to endure his growing rage.

The younger boys deflated as Jake pouted at Pete, but a challenging eyebrow raise from the older man made all three boys cower before they dragged the one with the spectacles away. And now the room was empty. Pete looked up at the shadowed figure and smiled, holding a hand out invitingly as he awaited obedience.

Y/n had been trained not to move a single muscle until the Boss ordered it, and so she finally moved now. Beginning to close the distance between herself and the only semblance of family and belonging she had, the girl felt her eyes flinch a little when the light hanging above Pete's head hit them. A reciprocative smile made its way on her face as she fished a hand out of her jacket pockets and placed it in his bigger one.

As the Boss' eyes traveled from her pretty face to the hand, the man's widening smile suddenly declined and turned into a scowl instead. He now held his other one out with a stern expression. Pete had heard Fowler had recently hired himself an assassin who was as good as Y/n, but he hadn't believed it until now that his sweet girl's scratched up hands lay in his. It wasn't usual for her to get injured in any way.

Taking care of business unscathed was her specialty.

"Aw, babygirl" crumbling up the digits streaked with red in his palms, the man raised them to his lips and began to pepper kisses all over them. "Oh… Daddy is so sorry…" Her head shook on instinct.

No.

Daddy could never hurt her.

It was forbidden for him to apologize, always.

Because he could never be in the wrong.

"It's not your fault, sir." Y/n replied defensively. "It wouldn't have happened if I had practiced well. I have gotten way too confident recently. I am the one who should be apologizing– in fact," she was on her knees in an instant. "I am sorry, Boss. I should have been better" Pete couldn't help but crack a smile at his Magnum Opus.

"I am sure you will be," He sickly widened his legs and bit his lip when the girl responded by crawling in the space gladly. "Now that you know what went wrong… You'll definitely fix it, hm?" The girl nodded as she resisted the urge to give in to instinct and nuzzle her face in his crotch. But Pete liked it so much when she did so! "You took an oath after all… remember?" Manly fingers slipped into soft hair and short nails scratched against warm scalp.

Y/n's eyelids fluttered as she felt him guide her head closer to his nether regions. "Y- Yes, sir–" the clicks of his tongue signalling disapproval stopped her.

"Now, now, sweets. You can do better than that~" Pete cooed as he hooked one foot under her ass and caressed the cheek.

The girl pinked at that and the man smirked upon noticing it. "S- Sorry… I meant… meant…" Pete hummed as he nodded encouragingly. "Meant… Daddy…" Desperate for cover, she turned her face to the side and nuzzled it in his thigh as her hands hung above her, still clasped in his.

The word always made her feel silly. She wasn't little anymore and Pete wasn't her father, yet he insisted she call him that whenever they were alone.

Because you will always be my little girl no matter what. A flashback of when he had taken her on this very table with her legs bent over his shoulders answered her question.

And then…

Daddies take care of their little girls and since I take care of you, I am your Daddy, aren't I? Another one pooled before her vision. Her pussy clenched as her teeth pulled her bottom lip between them. He had made her sit on his cock when he had taught her that one. The VIP room of one of his many clubs had been dark and his guests for the evening had entered right after. Oh, how her Boss had cruelly made the girl serve drinks to all of them. Every movement, every reach, every friendly chuckle had thoroughly tortured her aching core and had left her unbearably sensitive where their bodies were connected. It was a punishment, after all. For questioning the Boss and objecting to her Daddy's wish.

"There's my girl~" Pete unsnaked his fingers from her hair now, patting her cheek praisingly before cupping the back of her head. "You did a really good job today still" kissing her fingers one last time and making a mental note to tend to them after he was done with her, he let go. "And I think my sweet pup has earned herself a little reward still, what do you think?"

Y/n's eyes lit up with the excitement of a child walking into a candy store. She looked up at him and eagerly nodded, bouncing on the heels of her feet in exaggerated enthusiasm that she meant with all her heart. This girl kneeling in between Pete's legs and kissing all over his thighs and crotch with hopes of appeasing him was the stark contrast of the unforgiving, numbed out cold blooded killer that had flooded the Fowler mansion with guts and flesh by her blades tonight.

But that was exactly what she had been brought up to be. Taken in by the then Boss Brenner at a very young age after her whole family had been massacred due to a blood feud and thrown in the lowest ranks to frankly be torn and devoured by the predatory ambition filled trainees of what was Pete's mob now, she had fought her way up until she was one of his top people.

Though she had retained her femininity -as the superficial men of the group liked to call it-, the girl had the menace and cunning of a viper. However, Y/n's only mental development had been in the realm of survival; her sole art mutilation and horror. Taken in and under the protective (though only physical) wing of the warden overseeing the training house she had grown up in, the girl was naive to everything else other than the above.

It was ironic how she had mastered what most people fear and refrain from knowing anything about but was a stranger to everything that is basic knowledge to the normal person.

So when she had caught Pete's attention at the ripe age of 19, the Boss had taken it upon himself to first test and then teach her all she was ignorant to.

Although in his own way, of course.

When Pete's veins had warmed up from the soft kisses Y/n was pressing all over his nether regions, he gently stood up. The sound of his blood pumping audible in his ears, the man used his crotch to push her face away with the full intention of doing so and then smirked when her eyes crinkled shut at the impact, causing the tip of her nose to rub against his hard-on.

"Come on, little pup." Looking over his shoulder, the mobster held his hand out for the eager girl to take. "Let's go" he spoke after she had obeyed, staggering a little in her attempt to stand up as the man had started to walk already. Pete could imagine her sexy chest jiggling in her tightly zipped leather jacket as she jogged to match his pace.

"Missed Daddy…" Now her voice was a tender whimper as she rubbed her cheek against his arm, tightening her hold on his hand. She had a habit of getting sensitive after a relatively dangerous mission. Yearning for Pete before walking into a job was instinct at this point, the longing to crawl back into his arms a drive and the need to feel him all over her body again a motivation. He was her home and world alike.

Nothing else mattered to her, not really.

After years of everyone breaking, beating and scarring her, Daddy was the man who had finally praised her for her efforts. He alone had treated her like a person and not an attack dog. Instead of making her feel sub-human due to what was between her legs, he had made her feel special; needed. Pete was the one who had taught her that she could be held, caressed, kissed, complemented, rewarded. He had shown her that she deserved more than being slapped and slashed.

Though she was to receive this treatment only by his hand, for any other man trying to treat her in even a similar manner to his could only mean ill. As the world was ugly like that.

But Pete wouldn't. Because he loved her and only meant well. Even when he punished or berated her it was for her own good.

Because he cared.

"Hmm, you did?" When she nodded and began to climb the stairs that lead to his master bedroom beside him, he raised an eyebrow. "How…?" A giggle escaped the girl when the man playfully leaned in. "Where?"

"E- Everywhere!" Her face flushed as she pressed herself in his side shyly, whimpering out her next words. "A- And…" The fingers of her free hand raised to touch her neck. "H- Here…" Now they hovered over her covered nipples as she blushed harder. "Here…" Pete's growing smirk made her whine under her breath before she spoke again. "A- And here…" Her fingertips pressed against her clothed crotch.

"Mmm…" The man felt his adrenaline increase with every step he took towards the room. "What about… here?" Images of everytime he fucked her face and throat raw flashed before Y/n's eyes when his fingers grazed against her lips, a devious grin spread across his handsome– smug face.

"DADDY!" The girl squealed and the man chuckled, coming to a halt when she shyly jumped in his size to conceal herself from his eyes. "Y- You're so… bad…!" Pete let out a comically evil laugh as he bent to scoop her form up against his shoulder before he started to basically race to the room.

"Oh, yes! And now the big bad monster will eat his little puppy up!" The sounds of her shrill giggles bouncing off the walls could easily fool a stranger. Going off of this sight alone, they would never be able to guess just what kind of cruelty was about to take place in that bedroom.

Hell, not even one of the two parties had the faintest idea.

Which was why a furious Curtis who was ready to charge his way back to the Boss all the way from the foyer was dragged away and out by a grunting Ransom and one struggling Ari.

Y/n landed on the King sized bed with a thump but before she could let out an oof her hands were prying at her clothes to hurriedly peel them off much like the man in front of her. The sight of Pete's shirtless body caused for a shiver to rise between her moist folds.

The girl couldn't help but bite her lip as she let her eyes savor the sight. His body was perfect; nothing more and nothing less. Not too soft and not too hard and ripped like those of many of her coworkers, the Boss was the most attractive man she had ever seen. Widening the space between her legs, the assassin laid back as she reached for her core as nothing turned her on more than a sweaty and breathless Pete furiously ripping his expensive clothes off for her, dark eyes watching her form like those of a predator. The dim lights bounced off the sharp edges of his body and hugged the softer parts such as his stomach in the most ethereal way.

Though her descent into the ultimate condition where her mind shut off and senses heightened was cut short when her fingers that were toying with her clit were smacked away. The Boss clicked his tongue in disapproval as the girl furrowed her brows in lust driven confusion.

"That's Daddy's to play with" his voice was husky as he wrapped his fingers around her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed with a rough jerk, the sudden movement causing the girl to gasp in shock. "Bad puppy" putting emphasis on his disapproval at her prior actions, Pete kneeled in front of her and started to kiss her thighs that were coated with evidence of arousal. The man smirked to himself when Y/n whimpered sensitively from where his goatee tickled her tender skin, a jolt exploding in her spine when he suddenly bit down in the junction between her thigh and pelvis.

"Daddy!" Scratched fingers desperately reached for light brown hair that was sleeked back. "Sorry, Daddy!" Rough, manly hands squeezed and pulled at the greatest ass Pete had ever seen. An open mouth kiss from him caused another explosion, although this time in her loins. "Please… please… Oh!" Y/n was definitely the louder lover between them.

"Please what, hm baby?" Licking his pre-cum coated lips, Pete moved her hands off his hair to lean back and connect his fingers to her core this time. "Tell, Daddy what you want. He can't know otherwise" softly cupping the curve between her legs, the man let his thumb lazily drag against the thick folds in a continuous vertical motion that was too slow to do anything for the hot blooded girl.

"D- Daddy…!" Y/n's toes twisted as she tried to grind against his finger only to fail due to the iron grip he had on her ass.

"Yes, puppy?"

"Daddy… Daddy…" His dark and stern gaze was making her heart pound harder. She wanted– needed him everywhere all at once. Against, inside, outside, above, below, front, back, up, down… and any other way possible.

"You can do it, puppy." Pete encouragingly urged her on while he caressed her thigh with his other hand, thumb now prodding at her weeping entrance. "Come on… Do it for Daddy…"

"N- Need you so bad, Daddy!" The girl finally willed herself to cry out, cursing and arching her back only to whine in frustration when she realized that he still wasn't letting his digit penetrate her where she wanted him most. "Please, need you e- everywhere… A- All over… please… Please!"

Fuck.

Pete briefly chewed on his lip before continuing to enjoy the sight for as long as possible. "How about we start off slow and safe with my fingers?" He had never really expected her of all people and girls to turn out this needy and desperate for him. But here she was; leaking and writhing. Begging and panting like a whore.

She was so much worse off than him.

"A- Anything! Please, sir! Anything– everything! Just please fuck me!" The girl spoke like she had been trained to do so, hissing in a breath as her eyes clenched shut when the man finally let his middle finger glide down the length of her core before it found its rightful place inside her awaiting entrance.

Her walls squelched as they unwillingly parted to accommodate his thick digit, hips slowly moving to get used to the invasion as she gasped out loud and reached to squeeze his other hand that was palming one of her boobs now. Pete winced as he felt his rock hard cock graze against the wooden side of the bed, teeth sinking down into one of her thighs to withstand the stimulation.

"Oh… Oh, Daddy! T- Thank you so much…" Y/n moaned out loud as she felt his hand release her tit only to reach for her mouth and circle her lips before slipping inside. "Mowe, Dawddy… Mowe…" The thumb hurdled her speech and she gave in, clasping her lips around it the way she had been taught and got to sucking.

"There's my little pup" Pete praised as he pumped his finger in and out of her at a steady pace, peppering kisses and tiny bites all over thighs. He sucked some spots to leave marks and nibbled on a couple old ones. It made her cry out before clenching around his finger. "Now be a sweetheart and show Daddy how you'd like him to take care of those slutty little fat fuck handles" he was readying his index finger that was presently swiping against her clit for penetration now. "Geez, all that tit and for what? You wanna open a milk bank or some shit you slutty little puppy?" The girl could only clench harder as she reached for her chest.

Even his degrading words made her feel awfully sexy.

Y/n was convinced that she was the luckiest little girl ever.

Her Daddy was the best.

"I- If ith pweases you, Dawddy~" Pete couldn't help but smirk at her unwavering obedience as she continued to suck at his thumb, hands clasping around her tits now.

"Atta girl" his second finger pushed and forced its way inside her tight and hot cavern, the sensation making her almost bite down on the digit that violated her mouth. Y/n's hold on her breasts tightened. "Hm…?" Tilting his head to the side at the sight, Pete began to pump his thumb in and out of her mouth, also speeding up the invasion of her petals. "That all, pup? Sure ya don't want Daddy to do anything else to those sweet little titties?" His own speech was being impeded by his increasing need to mount her like a wild animal.

The young girl shook her head vehemently as she whined at how fast he was finger fucking her sensitive little pussy now, the loud squelching sounds of flesh rubbing and slapping loud in the otherwise quiet room. Twisting her toes to withstand the pounding she was being subjected to, Y/n jerked her tits up and down before pinching her nipples in a manner that made her moan amidst everything and then pull them as far as her skin would allow, moaning all the while as she imitated the man's treatment of them.

Pete snickered as he made use of his thumb to flick her clit before he added a third finger to her hole that was beginning to get ready for his cock. This precaution was necessary, as the organ had messed her up in more than one way on more than one occasion.

Perks of a virgin, he humorously supposed.

"Dirty, dirty pup" depriving her of his thumb with a pop, Pete softly smacked her cheek before cursing at the way her head lolled to the side. His hand now reached for his swollen and crimson cock to aid the ache thumping in his balls, biting his lip at the sight of her own thumb slipping in her mouth. Just how he liked it.

The man wondered what her Robinhood of a fuck father would have thought if he was to see her now.

Pupils blown, nose flared, face flushed, tits perked and pussy clenched as her screams bounced off the walls, chest rising as she orgasmed. Her thighs tightened around his shoulders to try and brace herself for the mind shattering orgasm that was flooding through her body.

As Pete flipped her over and unplugged her quivering hole with a loud plop only to quickly plunge it back shut with his cock so he could enjoy the post-climax hypersensitivity before abusing it in every way he desired, the man snorted under his breath. Wrapping all the hair he could gather around one hand and pushing his cum coated fingers into her mouth before pulling it open from one side, Boss Brenner watched his mob's former rival's daughter arch her back as she stared back, eyes drooping and lazy as she willingly let him blow her back. Inaudible praises and pleads spilled from her flushed mouth.

It was no use pondering the what ifs now for Pete had mutilated Boss Y/L/N and his entire family himself that one eventful night decades ago. It was the same night his father's men had taken Y/n, now his precious puppy but then only a baby, to his father to decide what to do with her because the girl was far too young to be subjected to the same fate as her siblings and parents. Lucky for Pete who neither cared nor really knew of your existence back then, his father had shared the mercy of his top men.

Well, the man decided there was no way for him to ever know what his puppy's father would think of what had become of her. Or rather, what old Boss Brenner's son had made of his daughter.

For better, or worse.

Mostly better, he decided as he pulled all the way out only to smash his cock back in, causing the tip to hit the girl's spongy bundle of sensitive nerves as she let out a final cry before her arms gave out and she collapsed.

#pete brenner #pete brenner smut #dark pete brenner #dark!pete brenner #pete brenner x you #pete brenner x reader #pete brenner x female reader #pete brenner x y/n

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sacharinee · 11 months

Note

hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues.

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,”

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.”

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,”

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands.

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame.

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion.

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.”

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment.

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.”

“you and me both,” strange clips.

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.”

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing white socks and dark shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.”

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’”

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

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whoisshel · 4 months

Text

What Do I Call You

A golden beam hits directly in your eyes, waking you up, groaning in annoyance, you sit up on the edge of your bed. Slowly getting up, you walk down the couple stairs and over to the kitchen where your amazing boyfriend stood making breakfast for the both of you; shirtless. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his middle, caressing up and down his stomach.

“Mmm, good morning, Your voice is rough but filled with happiness.

“Good morning, how’d you sleep?” Steve took the last pancake off the pain, then turned around to kiss you.

You shrugged with a smile, “Alright, woke up a couple of times.”

“Little Stevie kicking around in there?” Steve placed a hand on your stomach, rubbing a thumb along it.

Laughing a little, you turned away from him grabbing a glass of water, “We are not naming them Steve.”

“Aw, come on,” Steve dramatically raised his arms up then threw them back to his side, “It’s a great name.”

“Not for my child,” You took a seat on the barstool at the small island in your kitchen.

Steve set a plate in front of you, kissing your cheek, “I’ll convince you soon.”

“I don’t know about that,” You mumbled, before digging into the delicious breakfast, “Have I ever told you what a good housewife you are to me? You make me amazing breakfasts and dinners, do my laundry; you’re so wonderful.

Steve let out a boisterous laugh, “Housewife, huh?”

“Mmhm,” You hummed with a full mouth.

Steve had no problem being labeled as a “housewife” and no problem that you were the “breadwinner” making the most money. Now that you had a baby on the way, Steve liked the idea of getting to be home to be there for his kid, unlike his own dad. Steve looked forward to all the milestones he’d get to witness, and one day getting to run around with a full house.

“Looks like someone will have to make that official soon,” Steve joked, giving you a look that meant you were the one who had to make that move.

Giving Steve the same look, “Looks like someone will.”

———————

“Honey, I’m home!” You shouted as you entered the house after a day at work.

“I’m in the living room!” Steve shouted back from the short distance.

After taking your shoes off, you walk into the living room and see Steve stretched out on the couch reading a book. You sit on the edge of the couch facing Steve who continues reading. Leaning the book back to get a better look, you see that it’s a book of baby names.

“Find any good names?” You asked, leaning an elbow against the back of the couch to rest your head on your hand.

“A few,” Steve replied, setting the book down on his chest and resting a hand on your stomach, “Did you know that the name Steve means garland, crown, or victorious.”

“Interesting, very interesting,�� You said with sarcasm and slight disinterest.

“I also like Bradley, Pete, and Joel for boys and Lana and Charlotte for girls.”

Scrunching up your face trying to look annoyed but really you were holding back a smile, “Aren’t those all from Tom Cruise movies?”

“Maybe,” Steve dragged out the “e” with a small guilty smile on his face.

You shook your head, standing up to walk to your bedroom, “You're ridiculous.”

“Aw, come on,” Steve trailed after you, “You gotta admit they’re not bad.”

“Fine, Lana and Bradley aren’t too bad.” You grumbled.

Steve clapped a single time in cheer, “Ha, I knew you’d like those ones.”

Tugging off your almost too-tight pants, not having made the switch to maternity clothes, “We’ll continue looking for better names though.”

“Fine,” Steve was now the one grumbling, “You find the names you like and we’ll see whose are better.”

“Deal,” You agreed, putting your hand out for him to shake. Steve shakes your hand intensely staring into your eyes, “Now help me get these pants on.”

———————

“I’ve got them, I’ve got them!” You chanted, flailing a notebook in the air. You skip over to where Steve stood cutting up tomatoes for dinner. You set the notebook on the counter, “Here you go, my baby names.”

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Steve wiped his hands on a towel before picking the notebook up, “Okay, for boys, Ash, Dallas, and Jed. And for girls, Andie, Sloane, and Cherry.”

“What do you think?” You were about to burst from anticipation.

Steve scratched the side of his head, “I think that these names are all characters from movies.”

“At least mine are different movies.” You whined, crossing your arms like a child.

“There are some good contenders here,” Steve rubbed his hands up and down your arm to comfort you which brought a smile to your face, “I like Sloane and Dallas.”

“Those are good, aren’t they?” You asked, very proud of yourself.

Bringing you closer by your arms, Steve kissed you, “They’re lovely.”

“Hopefully one of our names will fit our baby.” You looked down at your four-month belly, placing your hands on it. Steve placed his hands on top of yours. As you’re taking in the peaceful moment, you both feel a fluttering movement, “The baby doesn’t want tomatoes.”

———————

“So, what does everyone think?” You asked, with a bit of worry, what everyone’s opinion would be.

Steve and you sat on the loveseat in your small house, surrounded by your friends. Steve wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

You had invited everyone over to some more opinions on your list of names. Now you all sat, cramped, in your living room. Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, and Robin sat snug on your couch which wasn’t much bigger than your loveseat. Lucas and Max sat on the arms of the couch, while Dustin, Mike, Will, and Eleven sat in front of everyone on the carpeted floor.

“Have you guys thought about Dustin, ‘cause I think that’s a wonderful name.” The suggestion was of course voiced by Dustin. Steve looked at you nodding in agreement, completely serious.

“That’s not happening,” It was at this moment, that you realized you were going to be the bad cop when it came to Steve and your kids, “Anyone else?”

“What about Ozzy?”

“I think Winnie is very pretty.”

“Ooh, Ziggy.”

“Or Bowie.”

“I’m still going to have to go with Dustin.”

“Okay, okay.” You waved your hands in front of you to get everyone to stop their unwanted opinions, “I was thinking more of what everyone thinks about our list.”

“We appreciate the ideas, but we really like the ones we already have.” Steve chimed in to once again be the good cop.

Everyone let out a collective, “Oh.”

“Well, out of this list,” Nancy picked up the notebook that had the names on it to remind herself of her choices, “My favorites would be Charlotte and Bradley.”

“Yes!” Steve cheered for his picks.

“Those are good ones,” Jonathan spoke up, agreeing with his girlfriend, "They're nice and simple.”

Steve turned to look at you with a bragging smirk.

“He just called them simple.” You pointed out to Steve, trying to stop his gloating.

“As godmother-“

“-That wasn’t agreed on.”

“As godmother,” Robin continued like she wasn't cut off, “I’d pick Andie and Sloane. Boy or girl, they’re good.”

“Thank you, Robin, or should I say, potential godmother.” You and Robin smiled brightly at each other like you just made a deal on something grand.

“The rest of us think Ash is the best boy's name,” Mike voiced for the collective.

Eddie nodded, “Very metal.”

“We’re split on girls though,” Max said, “Eddie, Eleven, and I like Cherry.”

“Mike, Will, and I prefer Lana,” Lucas added.

Everyone turned to look at Dustin, “Have you thought about Dusty?”

“Oh my god,” You deflated into the couch

———————-

Everyone had gone home and the two of you now sat on your bed, sat up against the back, having your usual bedtime conversation.

“We’re never going to figure out a name,” You moped, “Our kids going to be nameless. “Hi, my names Johnny, what’s yours?” “My parents couldn’t couldn’t decide, so they never gave me one.””

“Oh, come on,” Steve chuckled, “We’ve still got five months to pick a name, and we don’t even know the baby’s gender yet. Once we learn that, we’ll eliminate a whole load of names.”

“You're right,” You sighed, leaning into Steve, relaxing as some stress alleviated off of you.

“I always am.”

#stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #joe keery x fem!reader

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justsomerandomfanfic · 5 months

Text

Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away - Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Title: Can't Stay Away, Can't Look Away

Steve Raglan/William Afton X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Pete the Chef OC and Marie OC

WC: 2,917

Warnings: A bit of obsession, maybe stalking maybe not?, Reader is a waitress and is mentioned wearing a skirt for work, teasing, flirting?, serial killer stuff mentioned very briefly, Reader has very brief negative thoughts, age gap, mini angst, and fluff

The uniform beat of the clock was the only sound in the room as it ticked away. It seemed to echo throughout Steve Raglan's office. The silence was unnerving, and the ticking of the clock seemed to be a constant reminder of the fact that time was indeed slowly crawling forward with each minute that passed.

Sitting in his swivel chair, Steve glanced over some client files, occasionally humming to himself as he used his feet to turn himself in his chair; side to side. Letting out a silent sigh, he closed the dull yellow file and sat it on his desk with the others. Pushing up the bridge of his gold-framed aviator glasses, Steve looked up at the clock. Upon reaching his scheduled lunch break, he pushed himself off the chair before grabbing his coat and shrugging it on. Adjusting his tie as he left his office, he walked down the hall, passing other offices before exiting the large building.

It was a bright afternoon, though Steve hardly noticed as he made his way down the sidewalk, a certain confidence in each step. As he walked, he passed by the local flower shop, which stood beside a small bookstore, before crossing the street and the busy intersection to pass by the park. This was a part of Steve's routine, every weekday since about a couple of months ago. He always left his office at the same time for lunch, passed the same shops and stores, and entered the same diner for that said lunch.

Pushing the glass door open, Steve walked in, only to sit down at his usual spot. Though the restored diner from the 1960s was practically in new shape, the edges of the red leather booth where Steve sat were beginning to peel from age. The menu board was still hung up behind the counter, along with other posters, antique metal signs of cars, and other things that had been in the diner longer than Steve cared to really care about. The jukebox in the corner was softly playing a song, ‘Put Your Head On My Shoulder,’ a song by Paul Anka. The walls were a pastel blue, red, and white, with some white tile detailing here and there.

Going to the diner was routine for him, as said before, he went there every weekday to get his lunch. But he didn't go because the food was out of this world, or to appreciate the aesthetic of the place or anything like that. No, he came for you.

You were a waitress at the tiny diner, dressed in the typical 1960s waitress attire, you scurried to the awaiting people, pouring their drinks and serving their food. Sure, there were other waitresses there, but they weren't you. No, there was something special about you that made Steve want to come there every day for the sake of seeing you. You were beautiful, with bright, sparkling eyes, and soft lips that spoke words so sweetly. You just gave off a feeling that made you stand apart, an aura of warmth and affection. So Steve took a liking to you. And he couldn't understand why he did, no matter how hard he tried. He just felt drawn to you. Like magnetite to a magnet.

Walking out of the backroom, you froze, seeing Steve sitting in his usual booth, hands clasped, looking out the window. Letting out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, you felt your heart begin to race. Oh, what that man did to you, even just his presence alone brought a smile to your face. Brushing down your waitress skirt, you didn't bother to grab your notepad and pen from your skirt pocket as you walked over. You knew his order well. Well enough that you had it memorized; a BLT and a cup or two of black coffee.

Stepping in front of the table, the man looked up, your smile softened slightly, "Good afternoon, Steve. Do you want your usual?" You asked, and what you had asked him practically every day since he came into the little diner a couple of months ago.

The man gave you a small grin back, his clasped hands shifting slightly, making you look down at the movement; his sleeves were pushed back above his elbows, strong forearms exposed. Steve noticed your gaze, his eyes glancing down at your mouth as you bought your bottom lip in between your teeth, "Good afternoon, Y/N. Yes, I would like my usual." He answered, his words making you look back into his blue eyes before you cleared your throat nervously.

You gave him a nod, bits of stray hairs falling in front of your face as you did so, "... Alright, I'll make sure that it arrives soon." With one last look at him, brushing the stray hairs behind your ears, you headed towards the kitchen.

Steve watched you go, staring after you until you disappeared around the corner into the kitchen. He sighed quietly as he leaned back in his seat. Meanwhile, you leaned against the wall near the kitchen door, letting out a breath as you pressed your hand on your chest, feeling your racing heart pound and hammer against your chest. Taking one last breath, you got a hold of yourself, pushing through the large kitchen to find Pete, the chef.

Peering past a metal counter, you smiled at the old man who was mixing some sort of salad, "Hey, Pete," You grinned, "We got a seven and a black coffee." You spoke, gaining the man's attention. Pivoting his weight to his hip, he placed a hand there, tilting his head as he took in your expression; but mostly your eyes. He could tell that something was going on.

"He's here, isn't he?" Pete asked, watching your face flush, as you glanced and looked everywhere but at him, his grin widened.

"Yeah, Pete, he is. Can I please just get his order? Please, no teasing." You begged with a slight whine to your voice.

Pete, an old man in his sixties, had been working at the diner since he was in his twenties; and had been sort of a cool uncle figure to you, only shrugged his shoulders. Turning back around, he began to prepare Steve's order. "Sure thing, dearie," He replied softly, chuckling lightly. "You should probably head over and get him his coffee, don't want Marie to get to him before you do. She won't be so merciful."

Nodding your head you rushed out of the kitchen, heading behind the counter, passing Marie, who only grinned as you passed by her. Pouring the black coffee, you let out one last breath, mentally hyping yourself up before you walked back over to Steve.

He raised his head, meeting your eyes as you carefully sat the coffee down in front of him. "Thank you, Y/N." He spoke, giving you the same small smile that made you want to melt.

"You're welcome, Steve. Is there anything else you'd like while you wait? We just added a blueberry pie to the menu this morning." You asked, but the man just shook his head, his intense gaze unmoving as he gave you a small toothy grin.

"No, I'm alright."

Nodding, you gestured back to the kitchen, "I'll, uh, go check up on your food then."

Rushing back to the kitchen, you found Marie inside, Pete still working on the bacon portion of Steve's order. Marie turned to you, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "He's here." She sang in a soft sing-song voice, smirking.

Throwing your hands up, you huffed, "Yes, that's quite obvious. He's here every day at twelve-thirty on the dot." You retorted.

Marie laughed, shaking her head, "I just find it funny is all."

You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Pete began to chop up a tomato. "What's funny?"

"That you get so flustered around him." She answered, making you look down at your feet.

Marie had been your best friend since you were both in high school. She had been in the same few classes with you, and the both of you had gotten along great, even going to the same college. Later, you both tried going your separate ways, but this town had some pull on the both of you - so you both ended up working at the diner after a while of job searching. She was usually the voice of reason, the one you looked up to whenever you had a difficult question or task. She really was a great friend.

"I try not to be." You answered simply, turning to Pete, "Is his sandwich ready?" You asked as the man nodded, stabbing the red foil-tipped toothpick in the center of the bread; topping it all off.

“This might be the best one yet.” Pete marveled, staring down at his sandwich with pride, but without another word, you grabbed the plate with the BLT and pushed the kitchen door open.

Walking over with his food, you felt your irritation fade away as Steve looked up, his grin growing. Placing the food down in front of him, you noticed that his coffee cup was empty. Gesturing to it, you spoke, "Would you like a refill?"

"Yes, thank you," He spoke, watching as you quickly grabbed the coffee pot from the counter across from him, pouring more of the coffee into his cup. "How has your day been, Y/N?" He asked, you had been preparing yourself for today's conversation.

"It's been alright," You said, your voice soft. A nervous chuckle escaped you before you continued, "Just trying to keep busy. How's everything with you?" You asked, hoping to change the subject a bit.

“The same as usual, I'm afraid." He answered, similar to what he told you every time you asked him how he was.

"Well," You cleared your throat, "I'll let you eat. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" You asked, smiling slightly, giving him one last look before walking back to the counter.

"Of course..." He muttered, mostly to himself, watching as you slid behind the counter with your co-worker, grabbing a rag and beginning to clean the marble with it.

Looking down at the table, his sandwich seemed to stare right up at him. Picking it up with both hands, he bit into his BLT, taking a moment before letting his eyes wander the room before they settled on you once more. Watching as you talked with your co-worker, a smile on your face and hers. The co-worker occasionally glanced over at him, making him turn back to stare at his table, chewing his sandwich slowly. Straining his ears, he tried to listen in on your conversation.

"He's staring at you again," Marie spoke under her breath, "It's kind of creepy."

Hitting her arm with the rag, you lightly glared at her, "Don't be rude. Or too loud… He might hear you…"

"What?" She asked defensively, "It is, he's looking at you like a creep."

"And what about that? Should I be worried?" You challenged, raising an eyebrow as you went back to rubbing at the counter in front of you. “I think it’s sweet,” You muttered, and Marie didn’t seem to notice.

Sighing, she shook her head, crossing her arms, "I mean, maybe? Who knows? Maybe he's some serial killer."

You sputtered a laugh, raising your hand to cover your mouth, "You're ridiculous, Marie. He may be a bit… Antisocial, but that does not mean he’s some crazy murderer.”

Marie sighed again, glancing back over at him, "He’s still staring."

"I doubt it." You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I'm not someone to stare at."

Marie stared at you, raising her eyebrow, "Girl, you're gorgeous. Shut up. And he is, look."

Rolling your eyes at her, you worried on your lip as you glanced over at him, noticing that he was indeed staring at you. It wasn't hard to notice that fact, with how much his eyes were locked onto yours, especially when you could almost feel them piercing through you. Your cheeks flushed with heat, as your stomach twisted and flipped. You dipped your head, biting into your lip with a bit more force so as not to let the growing smile slip onto your face.

"I might do something risky," You muttered, your voice soft, breathless. Marie noticed, raising both her eyebrows this time in surprise. “I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while…”

"Oh, wow, he's really got you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he? You're whipped."

You shook your head, twisting the rap between your hands, straining your fingers slightly with the force, "No, I'm not."

"You're whipped. Smitten. Absolutely enamored. You've got the hots for this guy." She continued to tease, making you let out a deep sigh, tossing the rag down on the counter. "What are you planning to do exactly, hon?" She then asked, noticing that she really wasn't helping you in this situation.

"I might give him my number." You muttered, taking a quick glance over to see him finishing his coffee; plate clean. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile, taking in his perfect features. His dark hair, sprinkled with gray, looked so soft. It looked like it would be great to run your fingers through it. Your hand moved to the front of your head, pulling on a loose strand of hair before returning it behind your ear. You wondered, as you stared at him, if his beard would be soft or rough... “Oh God...” You murmured under your breath.

Marie took a step forward, placing a hand on your arm, snapping your gaze back to her, "Hon... Uh, you don't have to listen to me… But isn’t he a bit too old for you?”

You tilted your head at her, confusion etching onto your face, "Too old?"

She nodded her head, "Yea, y'know, he's like forty or fifty or somethin'. There’s a pretty big age gap between you two.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, your lips parted slightly, sort of speechless. "Marie... I don't care how old he is... I don't care about age gaps. If I was like eighteen, then yeah, that would be a problem to me, but I am twenty-five... I just... I don't know… As long as we are two consenting adults… I- uh…" You trailed off. “You’re stressing me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Marie smiled sweetly, patting you on the shoulder gently, "Don't mind me then. I just want you to be a bit cautious… That is, unless he's super rich, then I say go for it.” You shook your head, letting out a small chuckle, before nodding your head towards the man in question.

"I should check on him. His lunch break is almost over." Marie watched you go, sighing before she left for the kitchen. Walking over, Steve sat his empty coffee cup down, looking up at you with a small grin, a strange glint in his eyes. "Ready for the bill, Steve?" You asked.

"I believe so," He sighed, grabbing into his jacket pocket beside him to grab his wallet. "Same as always?" He asked, and you hummed in confirmation. Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, trying to ignore the sudden tingling feeling in your stomach at the contact. Stuffing the ten in your pocket, you pulled out a ten dollar bill. But, Steve only shook his head, “You keep that.”

Nodding with a small, grateful smile, you nodded, “Thank you, Steve.”

Shaking his head, he stood, "You don’t have to thank me. Your service was excellent, as always." He said simply, slipping his arms through the sleeves.

"Thank you," You muttered softly, blinking rapidly before you stuffed the money into your pocket, quickly opening your notepad and writing something down.

Steve watched you curiously as he adjusted the collar of his coat before you ripped the paper from the small notebook and handed it to him; unable to meet his gaze. He opened it slowly, his eyes reading and rereading the number - he could only assume it was your number - that you had haphazardly written down for him; though you were quick to write it, it was still neat and Steve could read it easily. Looking up at you, you finally managed to glance back up at him.

Folding the note, Steve slid it in his pocket, "I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked simply, watching as you nodded. He hummed, glancing around the features of your face before he found himself raising his hand, brushing the stubborn wisps behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lingering a second too long on the softness of your cheek before he pulled away. Your eyes widened a fraction, your lips opening slightly as a small, inaudible gasp left you. Steve swallowed thickly, swiftly turning on his heel before he lost what little control he had over himself, walking out of the diner, the door shutting behind him.

Standing there, you stared after him, letting out a sigh. What was that? Not that you were complaining. You slowly raised your hand, brushing your fingers along the same trail that he had touched moments ago, feeling the warmth. He had been so gentle and careful and... So warm. It felt good. You couldn't help but smile lightly. You hoped that he'd call you.

And he would. You'd be hearing from him soon. Very soon.

#cute #fluff #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #fanfic #x you #x y/n #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #william afton #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #william afton x female reader #william afton x you #william afton x y/n

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pahtoosh · 9 months

Text

pete pete

[image ID: a behind the scenes gif of chris evans as captain america giving the camera a goofy smile. by tumblr user SoftEvanStan. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~400 words

warnings: dada thinks you peed🫣(you didn’t), steve picks you up

a/n: based on a silly little thought i had hehe🤭

pairing: steve rogers x gn!little!reader (i imagine this as part of my stucky x little!reader collection but bucky isn’t mentioned so you can read it either way😁)

summary: steve embarrasses you during a playdate with peter

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“I’ll be in the kitchen making sandwiches for lunch, okay? You two play nice.” Steve kissed the top of your head before getting up.

“We will, captain!” Peter said.

Somewhat distracted, you looked up from your Legos when you noticed Steve walking away. “Dada?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You go?”

Steve laughed. “I’m making sandwiches, my love.”

“Oh!” You bounced excitedly. “Can I have cheese in mine?”

Steve came back and gave you another kiss as if he couldn’t help himself. “Yes, you can have all the cheese in the world.”

“Woo!”

Steve grinned to himself as you did your little happy dance and continued playing with Peter.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

The next few minutes were peacefully quiet. The occasional rustle came from the kitchen as did the clicking of plastic toys from the living room.

Peter was looking back and forth between the fighter jet he was building and your pile of untouched Lego pieces. “Can I have your circle piece?” he asked.

“Ya. Can I have your blue one?”

“This? Sure.”

“Dank you, Pete Pete.”

Steve poked his head in from the kitchen. “What was that, sweetheart? You went peepee?” He quickly washed his hands and rushed over to you.

“Wha? Nooo.”

“It’s okay baby, Dada’s gotcha.” Steve picked you up and quickly ran into your room. Had he been more focused, he would’ve noticed that your bottom was totally dry.

“Dada. I not peepee!”

“Nothing to be embarrassed of, baby. It happens to all of us.” He placed you on the changing table and ran around, grabbing new clothes and changing supplies.

You were a little embarrassed, but not for the reasons that Steve was thinking. Not to mention how upset you were that he interrupted your playtime. “I not peepee!”

“Then why’d you say peepee? You know we don’t make potty jokes.”

“Pete. Pete.” You made sure to say the “t’s” this time.

Peter appeared in your doorway, hand covering his eyes. “Um, Mister Rogers? I think they were just saying my name.”

Steve set down the things he was holding and nodded in understanding. “Pete Pete.” He sighed. “You can look, Peter. Nothing happened here.” Dada helped you off the table and gave you a light pat on the butt before you and Peter ran off to play again.

Steve put his hands on his hips and sighed again, shaking his head. “Pete Pete. Sam’s gonna riot when he hears this one.”

#steve rogers x little!reader #daddy!steve x little!reader #gn!little!reader #sfw age regression #agere fic #littlespace fics #marvel agere #fluff #drabble #peter appearance #little being carried #pete pete #pete-pete #toosh writes

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rosewaterandivy · 8 months

Text

Live from New York…

Summary: a meet cute for everyone’s favorite rockstar!eddie and head SNL writer/weekend update anchor gf

WC: 4204 🫠 (my hand slipped)

Pairing: rockstar!eddie x screenwriter!gf

Warning/Themes: work related stress, smitten Eddie, hectic SNL schedule built around cocaine, meddling actor!steve harrington, encounters in close quarters, Eddie wearing Le Labo Santal 33– which should be a warning all its own, my usual brand of filth™️

A/N: we’ve had our meet cute with actor!steve, now it’s Eddie’s turn!

Series masterlist | playlist | currently spinning:

At Studio 8H, you always hit the ground running on Mondays. Hopefully, you’d lazed away or slept off the hangover from the after-party on Sunday, but sometimes you weren’t so lucky.

Today was one of those days.

A subway ride from hell, you were pretty sure your bodega guy was mad at you (again), and the inevitable spins and mouth sweats which could only mean—

“Hey killer!” Pete greets, towing the week’s host and musical guest behind him.

And because this situation could only get worse, you hold up a solitary finger and duck into a nearby dressing room to puke and rally.

“Fuckin’ Mondays, am I right?”

A rich voice greets you as you make your entrance back into the hallway, someone wearing a panoply of rings shoves a cold water bottle in your hand while you push your sunglasses up the bridge of your nose.

“Y’alright there, boss?”

A nod as you guzzle some water.

“Just peachy, Davidson.” You heave a sigh, grimacing as you make eye contact with the host, Steve Harrington, and one fifth of the musical guest in the form of Eddie Munson. “Sorry for the uh—" you gesture vaguely to the dressing room.

“No worries,” Steve says with a smile, “We’ve all been there.”

Eddie, for his part, snorts a laugh.

“Charmed,” you chirp, readjusting your canvas tote on your shoulder and resuming your walk down the hall.

“Pitch meeting in 5!”

The Monday meeting was always a wash. Pitches that were half-formed or outright veto’d by Lorne or the host, and Pete giving the same pitch for the fourth month running that no one bit at.

Typical.

Steve was affable enough, charming in the way only an actor could be, easy to laugh and joke. Eddie Munson, however, was all long-limbed ease and looked at you in a way that was unnerving.

No matter. You didn’t have the time to contemplate why the frontman of Corroded Coffin irked you, not when the cast members were especially needy for your attention and the writers retreated to the conference room.

“Chloe,” you huff as the small blonde trails after you, mouth going a mile a minute about a new impression she’d perfected.

You stopped short at your office door, causing Chloe to bump into you. With a slow turn, you try to smile in a well-meaning way, sunglasses sliding down your nose again.

“Can this wait until later?” Your hand twists the handle, allowing you to slip inside the room and escape the sad fall of her face. “I promise you’ll have my undivided attention this afternoon, okay?”

That seems to perk her back up. She gives you a smile and salute before trotting off back to her dressing room.

You sigh and slide back against the closed door, eyes slipping shut for the briefest of moments. Not open long enough to clock a mop of brown curls lazing on your couch.

“Exhausting being on top, isn’t it?”

Your eyes open only to land on Eddie Munson, laid out on your couch as if he owns the place.

“How did you get in here?”

You cross to the desk, heaving your tote onto it and peel the glasses from your face. Falling into your chair, you await his reply and open up your laptop.

Rooting around in your tote for your notes, you notice a coffee cup and danish at his side.

“Is that my cherry danish and cold brew?”

“Hmm?” He turns toward the sound of your voice. “Oh, this? An intern dropped it off.”

Eyeing the bite taken out of the danish, you sigh. “And you just assumed it was for you?”

“It’s not?”

“Unless Corroded’s rider has something about cherry danishes on it—“

“I just thought since your little performance this morning, you wouldn’t be in the mood.”

He sits up with a stretch, arms rising above his head, a sliver of skin visible above the band of his boxer-briefs.

Calvin’s, of fucking course.

You repress the need to roll your eyes. “How kind,” you say instead, flipping through your notes and typing a few ideas down.

“I thought so.” Eddie stands up, depositing the danish and coffee on your desk. “I’m more of a bagel and lox guy myself.”

“I’ll alert the media.”

He smiles slow, which is more attractive than you’d bargained for, annoyingly enough. His teeth are perfect against the plush pink of his lips, and he’s close enough, leaning against your desk, that you can smell the faint scent of his cologne— wood, leather, and violet?— cut through with a faint aroma of tobacco.

“I only have your best interests at heart, sugar.”

By Thursday, things started to even out. Some solid pitches turned into sketches, bumpers filmed and canned, and one only one sex dream about Eddie Munson.

You’d take what you could get.

It was basically inevitable, that fucker has been annoying you all week— popping into your office uninvited, sending the interns out for inane tasks just to get you alone, and, the real kicker, sending Harrington in as reinforcements.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Steve says, taking another bite of his lunch— subs from the Teamsters, your favorite day of the week.

“Munson?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, having made out your garbled phrase. “Ed just comes on strong, but he’s harmless.”

You roughly swallow and take a sip form your drink. “Whaddya mean?”

Steve pauses, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Oh, uh,” he shrugs, “He likes you. Was that not obvious?”

You stare at him blankly.

Eddie Munson, attracted to you?

Yeah, when hell freezes over.

“He’s just razzing me,” you say, more to yourself than Steve.

He drops his sub on the wax paper and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“That’s what you think?!”

“Well—" you sputter, indignantly. “If that’s how he shows his interest…”

Steve laughs, a bright and delightful thing. If only it wasn’t at your expense.

“Oh my god,” he wheezes. “Robin’ll get a kick outta this— holy shit.”

He pulls out his phone and sends off a text. The next thing you know, his assistant is barreling through your office door.

“You’re shitting me,” is what she says, eyes cutting from him to you. Communicating in some secret language of eye contact and gestures that was wholly beyond you.

That lunch was the last semblance of peace you’d had for the week before Eddie Munson began wooing you with increased vigor.

By Saturday, you’d had just about enough of his nonsense. More flowers than you knew what to do with, mini fridge in your office stocked with all your favorites, the writers actually doing their jobs for once— which was honestly just creepy, but you’d allow it.

“What did he do?”

It was the final read-through before the dress rehearsal later that evening. The writer’s room was packed, and no one had tried to kill anyone else yet.

Truly bizarre.

“What did who do?”

“Cut the shit,” You grouse back. “Munson, what did he do, threaten you idiots? Promise backstage passes— what?”

A hang-dog new hire sighed. “Said he’d have our guts for garters if we fucked up your week.”

“Yeah,” someone else chorused. “Said we’d wish all those Satanic rumors were true once he was done with us.”

And, as a result, no one had tried to steal your Emmy this week, you occasionally went home at a decent-ish hour, and no one had unnecessarily barricaded themselves in their dressing room.

Huh.

Maybe Harrington had a point.

Eddie Munson attracted to you? It’s more likely than you think!

The thought eluded you through the dress rehearsal and show itself, but reared its ugly head at the after-party.

A successful show, a compliment from Lorne, and several drinks had you feeling warm and buzzy. Harrington had wrangled you up on a table when “Teenage Dirtbag” came on, assured you it would be fine dancing on tabletops in high-heeled boots.

All was well and good until someone spilled a drink on said table and nearly sent you toppling to the floor.

Strong arms gripped your waist, settling you against a broad shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“The fuck was that?!” crowed up at Steve, the music far too loud for you to make out his response, before you’re carried from the dance floor to the coat check room and placed back on your feet.

Right side up, Eddie looks flushed and concerned, checking your face and body for any signs of injury.

“You okay?”

Voice softer than you’re used to, not the gruff exterior or persona he plays into for the public. And, it’s nice. You’re just buzzed enough not to be horrified at the realization.

You laugh and press a finger into his heaving chest, “You like me, dontcha?”

Eddie laughs, dodging your gaze as his chin tucks into his chest. “Honestly?” He says after a beat, “You scare the shit outta me.”

“What,” you pout, “Little old me?”

Your finger idly traces nonsensical shapes against the black cotton of his shirt. He takes a breath, watching the trajectory of your hand.

“Not in a bad way,” he allows, eyes finally dragging back to you. All warm umber and hints of whisky. His hand touches yours, bringing an end to your wandering fingers.

Eddie swallows audibly and cocks his head to the side. “You’re just so…”

“Intense?”

There’s that slow smile again. He takes a step closer to you, hesitant as if he’s expecting you to push him away.

You don’t.

A shake of his head that frees a few strands from the low bun he’d dawned at curtain call. You brush your fingers against the soft curls and scruff of his jaw.

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, eyes closing minutely as his forehead rests against yours.

“You,” he breathes, voice low, “Are going to ruin me.”

Not a threat, but a promise.

A smile tugs at your lips. “Awfully presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Call it a hunch, sweetheart.”

You close the distance between you with your lips. They slot into his with ease, your hand tangling itself into the curls at the nape of his neck.

He groans, something low from the cage in his chest and steps between your legs as your eyes fall shut. Your back hits the wall, his hand cradling your head, thumb rubbing idly along your scalp.

Eddie smells divine, and you’re not sure whether it’s the drinks or your own hormones that are to blame. But he tastes even better, the burn of whisky a comfort as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

You open beneath him like a night-blooming flower, lips, and legs parting with ease. A wet click when you part, allowing you to take a shaky breath in. He moves along your jaw, soft lips sponging kisses there before lighting upon your neck.

“Fucking hell,” you groan, head rolling back against the wall behind you, earning a low laugh from him.

Everything feels amazing, your skin is buzzing at his attention, hands desperate to grab hold and never let go.

As his hips cant into your own, you can feel the hot, hard line of him. Your eyes flying open at the sensation and the thought that you may very well die getting dicked down by Eddie Munson in a coatroom.

But oh, what a way to go.

He’s on you again, lips and tongue eager for entry, before you can say anything stupid. Your mouth opens with a stuttered breath as Eddie slowly grinds against you.

He’s saying something, praises falling from his lips but you can’t possibly reply. Too wound up from arousal to be any sort of conversationalist. The pressure against your clothed heat is just right, and you’d like nothing more to get his pants off and ride Eddie to kingdom come.

That is until Steve Harrington barrels through the door.

“Oh shit,” he says, stifling a laugh. “My bad.”

He’s in and out in two seconds, but the mood is broken.

Eddie’s head rests against your shoulder while he catches his breath. You can feel the heat of his flush against your neck.

“So,” he begins, voice a low rasp. “I guess—"

“Your hotel is closer.”

He perks up at that, head rising from your shoulder with a quirked brow.

“Essex House, right?”

Eddie nods, picking up what you’re putting down. He scrambles for his phone, texting something before grabbing you by the hand and leading you out of the club and into the brisk New York night.

Falling back against the plush comforter, you drag Eddie down with you. Teeth clicking against each other in the effort. He huffs a laugh into your mouth, pushing you back against the pillows on the bed.

“You’re a pretty good kisser,” you say, propping up on your elbows.

“I may have heard that once or twice,” he says, tugging his shirt up and his head before tossing it elsewhere.

You make quick work of his jeans, while he occupies himself with mapping the geography of your body with his lips. He nips at your hip, earning a squeak of surprise from you as his arms cage you in.

His hair, now loose from the torment of your hands, tickles as it drags along your exposed skin. Eddie popping open the buttons of your blouse torturously slow.

Your lips claim his once more as his finger skims against the soft curve of your breast. You shudder at the sensation, unable to focus on anything except him.

Half-lidded eyes gaze down at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. With a roll of your eyes, you wiggle out of your shirt and pop the button of your trousers.

He’s quick to follow, fingers pulling at the fly and tugging the offending fabric from your legs.

The second the damp lace of your thong makes an appearance, Eddie groans loudly— head falling against your hip.

“Oh, my god.”

Too pent up to feel bashful, you tangle your fingers in his hair and give it a tug. Another groan, lower and deeper than the last.

“So pretty,” he breathes against your heat causing you to shiver.

His fingers hook into the fabric and pull them down the plush of your thighs, lips skating across the sensitive skin as he goes. Eddie is back on you before you can sit up to take off your bra; tugging you up to settle on his lap while reaching around to expertly unhook the lacy garment.

Distracting you with a kiss, it takes you a minute to realize that Eddie has apparently been struck stupid at the sight of you bare before him. His eyes rove over what feels like every inch of your body, as if he could never get enough.

“Hey,” you prompt with a roll of your hips. It’s delicious and delightful, sending sparks straight to your core. A soft sigh before you continue, “How do you want me?”

That seems to wake him back up. Eddie shakes himself alive and says with a bite to your lips, “As many times as I can have you, sweetheart.”

He lays you gently back down and grabs a condom from the bedside table. Before you can offer your assistance, however, he’s back between your legs with a singular focus: making you come. Hard and frequent.

By the time you reach your peak for the second time, he’s three knuckles deep and two fingers in. Your babbling incoherently while he smirks up at you, occasional coos of “Doin so well f’me” and “You can take another, right sugar?”

You nod, impatient for your next orgasm. Who would’ve thought that Eddie Munson could turn you into a needy brat without even seeing his dick?

Certainly not you.

“Eddie,” a broken pathetic whine from you. He’s worked in a third finger, impossibly, and you’re about to explode.

Pulling his lips from you clit, he glances up, lips and chin wet with your slick. “Yeah?”

The lighting in the room is low and warm, only enhancing his features, eyes blown dark with lust and lips ruddied and swollen from licking and kissing.

Another whine as you make grabby hands at him, “Wanna come on your cock.”

He chuckles lowly, sponging a kiss at your hip. “That so?”

You nod dumbly and wet your lips.

He rubs along your g-spot and your eyes roll back into your skull.

“Hmm,” he hums, “Why don’t you come on my fingers again and then you can make a mess on my cock?”

Not the answer you wanted to hear, but you’re too far gone to care. A petulant pout on your lips, but before you can make your retort, Eddie does that magical thing with his fingers again making you keen as you come.

Your vision whites out briefly, walls shuddering at his ministrations wetly.

“There’s a good girl,” he says, voice silky and low. “Knew you could do it.”

Damp fingers grasp your chin before prodding at your lips. You open your mouth to suck at them, tongue grazing against the cool silver of his rings as he watches.

Faintly, you hear the tearing of the condom wrapper as he extricated his hand from your mouth. Calvin’s long gone now, Eddie fists his cock to roll the condom down his shaft. And you can’t seem to pick your jaw up from the floor.

He looks almost nervous, brows furrowed and biting his lip. You can see why— he’s got the biggest and prettiest dick you’d ever seen. Cockhead flushed a rosy pink as he strokes himself, and you're not the best at spatial awareness but there are definitely several inches of him to reckon with.

“Hey,” you say with a swallow, mouth having filled with saliva at the sight of him. A jerk of your head, “C’mere, honey.”

With a smile, he returns to you. Kisses laved to your chest, neck, and finally lips while he situates himself against your petaled heat. Bumping against your abused clit, you sink back into the pillows with a moan.

Hands loosely cradling his collar and legs wound high against his back, you pull Eddie down for a slow kiss as your rock up against his shaft. He licks messily into your mouth as one of your hands snakes down to guide him inside.

He shudders at the sensation and the visual of your hand on his dick, small and dainty in comparison. “Fuckin’ hell.”

You hum contentedly. “You ain’t seen nothin' yet,” and drive the message home with a buck of your hips. His cockhead slips in, stretching you slightly but not unpleasantly.

He pauses, not wanting to hurt you or go too quickly just for it to happen again— too big, can’t fit. Surprisingly, you shimmy working him further into your cunt, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt.

Eddie thinks he’s going to die like this— bottoming out in the girl of his dreams, all before he can blow his load or get you off like he wants to.

The stretch is good— hitting depths you didn’t realize were possible until now. Making your own efforts with the aid of your fingers and toys appear pathetic. You could vibrate out if you skin at the sensation— keyed up and pulled taught before he’s even had the chance to move yet.

You clench at the thought, causing Eddie to pant and moan against your neck. His left hand taps at your right leg.

“Can you raise that up, just a little?”

You acquiesce, and he thrusts experimentally. The angle changes everything, causing your blood to thrum and punching the breath from your lungs. Right leg wrapped around his waist while the other rests lazily against his hips.

Eddie kisses you quick, tongue eager as he works you open. You can hear the smack of his skin against yours, both damp with the exertion, accompanied by a sound and sensation wholly unfamiliar to you.

There’s a wet squelch when he bottoms out every other thrust or so, and the coil in your gut gets pulled tighter and tighter. Heat and pressure are building in your cunt and radiating outwards.

You jolt upwards, breasts brushing against his chest, nipples hardening in the cool air. “Eddie I’m—" your voice catches in your throat, a tear falling from your eyes and cascading down your cheek.

Before he can see your unintended emotional display, you bury your face into the curve of his neck with a gasp. His hips stutter as you draw closer, neck growing damp with your tears.

“Shit. Did I—"

You quiet his concerns with a shake of your head, “No baby, I’m good. Keep going.” And with a languid roll of your hips, you seal the deal.

Eddie’s thrusts slow, the angle forcing his pelvis to tilt and drag exquisitely against your clit. Your head drops back against the pillows. He licks his lips and watches your mouth fall open with interest. He loves the way your eyes can’t seem to focus, the way your tongue lies heavy in your mouth, the way you try to hide from your pleasure, but he knows you’re excited.

Your next orgasm crashes upon you like a tidal wave, walls fluttering like the wings of a frantic hummingbird. You nearly scream from the pleasure of it all, mingled with a pinch of pain as a gushing soak drenches the both of you.

Your body jerks forward, pinned by Eddie’s hips and the cage of his arms holding you close. You can feel him moving inside you in long strokes before he stills to let you ride it out.

“That’s never happened before,” you slur out.

“Yeah?” He smirks, resuming his thrusts, pace nearly brutal now— diving into you so fast and hard that your eyes well up with tears. It doesn’t feel like you’ll reach the peak again, feels like you’ve been on the cusp since the coat room.

Your brain is fried and completely blissed out— fucked stupid by a rockstar you'd known for a week. You can only gasp in clipped short breaths as the air is continuously punched from your lungs.

Eddie bites his lip, eyes fixed on the way his cock spreads your cunt. The way your pussy is glistening and cherry red from his ministrations.

“Wish you could see yourself,” he groans out. “Such a good girl, takin’ all of me.”

Eddie could be talking gibberish and you would still nod along, falling apart as you stutter and plead, begging for him. I want it. I want it. Iwantitiwantitineedit. I need you.

A few more strokes and Eddie comes hard, thick ropes of come released into the condom, shuddering against the clenching of your walls— tight and wet and hot. Your name falls from his lips in a broken moan causing you to break open, crying out pitifully and throwing your head back against the pillows.

And, god damn, he’s just so pretty. All pink lips and pupils blown wide, chest heaving with desperate breaths before he collapses on top of you.

You feel positively ruined for other men. It’s unbelievable, the way he’s seared his touch into your body and brain. And yeah, if you had a soul or whatever, probably that too.

It may not be the most orgasms you’d ever had, but it’s damn near close and certainly the most intense yet. Your body trembles against Eddie’s torso, while he sucks on your neck, murmuring praises into your ear. Calls you sweetheart, baby, good fucking girl. Keeps himself inside, nestled comfortably deep.

You’re likely to faint if he doesn’t stop— intense whispers, slow movements, and rubbing sweetly against your walls. Eddie drags another orgasm out of you, miraculously so, almost letting you forget how torn open he’s made you feel. Your toes curl and go limp again for what feels like the umpteenth time, plaint against him as you catch your breath.

He lands a soft, barely-there kiss against the lobe of your ear and wipes the sweat from your neck and brow away.

“You okay?” He asks in a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “You got a little—"

“Overstimulated, yeah,” you answer with a laugh. Your arms drape around his collar lazily. “I’m good,” you say with a smile, “Never better.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s smile is a bright bashful thing. He ducks his head, like he can’t believe you’re real, and bites his lip.

“Gonna be pretty useless for the next couple of hours though.”

He glances back up at you. “Really?”

“Totally.” Your fingers card into his hair, working against his scalp. “This guy fucked me stupid and now I can’t feel my legs so.”

He laughs, the vibrations reverberating against your ribs before rolling off of you to discard the condom. His hand finds yours again in the near-dark, cool metal against the damp of your palm.

You lay beneath the fluffy duvet, facing Eddie. Your legs were entwined with his and he has a big, stupid grin on his face. You were sure your smile matched his own.

A phone trills into the still of the room, Eddie groans in frustration and grapples with finding it on the nightstand. He answers it with a huff of annoyance as Steve Harrington's voice cascades through the speaker.

“So…” he sings, the street noise of the city serving as background, “You guys fuckin’ or what?”

#modern!rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #stranger things fan fiction #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie smut #modern!au #Spotify

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valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 11 months

Note

Something tells me in the airport battle that had Steve, Sam, or Bucky been able to stop Spider-Man for a few minutes so they could explain to him what the Accords entailed, he would instantly turn on Tony and Team Cap would be the winners of the fight.

I don't know if that would have been enough to give Team Cap the victory but I would have loved to see Peter turning against Team IM.

One of the things I dislike the most about Peter in CW is that he's shown to be no more than a fanboy that is happy to just be around the Avengers or more accurately Stark. And it bothers me because Pete is not the kind of kid to agree to fight just because a billionaire told him to, his morals are far too important for him to behave that way - especially when Homecoming confirmed that he had no idea whatsoever as to why they were fighting in the first place.

First of all, the very first thing Peter says to Steve in the fight is that he's a big fan, so at the very least he knows more or less what Steve stands for. So, if Stark tells him something about him "going crazy", are we to believe Peter would be fine with just that? He would find that reasoning enough to put on a suit and fight against him? I'm sorry but.. no way. He's not the kind of hero to get physical unless he knows what's going on and there's an immediate threat, and this wasn't it.

And second, CW makes it very clear that ideologically Peter is on Steve's side. The only logical solution to that is to at least have him find out mid-battle why they are fighting and realize he's on the wrong side. I wouldn't have wanted him to start fighting on Team Cap's side... but I would have loved a scene where Steve tells him what's going on and Peter just... stops fighting. He removes himself from the battle and when Stark complains, he tells him he knows what's going on and wants nothing to do with it.

Of course this is assuming he would believe Steve, but the movie had him trusting Stark's word for no reason so.. why not? 🤷‍♀️

#spider-man #team cap #anti tony stark

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laurfilijames · 7 months

Text

Like My Dreams

Part 1

Intro

Pete Dunham Masterlist

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: Mentions of a broken leg, use of crutches. Bruises and cuts. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and use of pain medication. Discussions of fighting.

Summary: Life is getting back to normal for Pete, including going back to work and participating in his first scrap since almost getting killed, and little does he know that an unexpected person is going to step in and show him that while football is life, there may be more to life than just football.

After moving home to help your sister with your nephew, Jack, after her divorce, you meet his bruised, but gorgeous teacher, and later discover you're connected in more ways than one.

A/N: Part 1 is here!! Pete deserves the world and I'm using this fic as a way to rebuild his for him.

---

"Have you heard from the Yank at all, there, Peg Leg?" Swill asked through a grin, ducking when Pete raised his arm up in an attempt to hit him.

"Aye, I'll beat you with my crutch, you cunt," he threatened, turning away for a split second before making a quick jab at his mate with the proposed weapon, making Swill jump and spill his beer. "And yes, I have. Turns out our Yank mate has sought his revenge and managed to get a recording of that geezer Jeremy admitting he put the blame on him, so he's right back into Harvard now and will be graduating soon as."

"Ahh, result!" Swill cheered, clanking his glass against Pete's before extending his arm out to cheers with Ned and then Ike.

"Gonna be a proper Journo now."

"Good on him," Ike nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. Says he's planning a visit back across the pond soon as he's done," Pete explained.

"Oi, when are you going back to work, Pete?" Dave asked, handing him a fresh pint before taking a sip of his own.

Pete took a long drink, tilting his head to the side and shrugging slightly as he swallowed his beer. "Soon, I hope. Apparently the little lads have been giving the substitute a right time. I already had to go in and give 'em the what-for…tell 'em to be nice while I'm away."

"Bloody buggers," Dave sighed, shaking his head.

"Told them I'd taught them better than that." Pete took another sip, wiping his mouth with his hand. "Their response was that they wouldn't have to be such shits if she wasn't such an old, miserable cow."

"Yeah, there's no doubt you're their role model, then eh?" Dave laughed.

Pete shrugged in agreement, finding no point in arguing.

"Once I get out of this cast I can go back in," he explained, turning and leaning his back against the bar. "I'm itching to get back to it, but more just to get out of Steve and Shannon's place."

"That bad?"

He sighed, choosing his words carefully, "Shannon is being nice to me for the first time ever, but they fuss constantly. It'll just be nice to go home."

"Yeah, all in time, mate." Dave clapped his shoulder, happy Pete was being cared for and wasn't spending the long days of recovery alone.

There were days his leg ached like hell, and after ditching his crutches about a week ago, Pete sometimes wished he still had them to lean on. He sat on the edge of his desk, reading out loud to the class from there rather than pacing through the desks like he had been, his limp becoming more and more noticeable with each step, but despite the pain from the long days of being back on his feet, he was grateful to be back in his classroom with life pretty much back to normal.

Being back in his flat helped with his overall recovery too, having felt desperate to get out of Steve and Shannon's stuffy place and in the familiar comforts of his own, having appreciated time spent with them and his sweet nephew Ben, but ultimately relieved to relish in the peace and quiet.

The bell rang, signaling the end of their school day, and Pete marked his page and closed the book, glancing at the clock in slight disbelief that the day was already over.

"Okay, boys, we'll pick up there tomorrow," he announced, collecting some papers on his desk as his class packed up their notebooks and began filing out of the room. "And remember your assignments are due on my desk first thing Tuesday morning, so get cracking on them!" he shouted over their excited voices, some of them moaning in disappointment over their homework.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see a text from Bov confirming their plans to meet at the pub later for beers, and excitement buzzed through him knowing that in two more days, West Ham was playing Manchester at home. The two firms hadn't seen each other since the GSE surprised them at the station and embarrassed the hell out of them, and word was that they were gunning for a comeback more than ever. Pete knew he would have to be careful, but the thought of getting back into fighting and experiencing that rush as his firm kicked the shit out of the other's whose bruised pride had never recovered from the last time made him feel like he was close to invincible.

"I don't know why you keep eating it, then, Bov," Pete scolded, walking through the doors of The Abbey with his mate who kept going on about his sore stomach, unable to help the laugh at his expense as he watched him hold his gut and beeline it right for the toilets.

"What's the matter with him?" Dave asked, nodding in Bovver's direction as he struggled to get by other patrons.

Pete shook his head and sighed, "Bloody guy insists on ordering the hottest curry going and then fucking complains about his insides turning as soon as he's stuffed it down."

"He'll never learn, will he?"

"Nah, serves him right," Pete chuckled, clanging his glass against Dave's after being handed it.

"I don't know about you boys, but I am more than ready for the weekend," Ike said exasperatedly, "work has been kicking my ass."

"You best be rested up for our big event on Saturday…" Dave warned, earning a scoff from him.

"Yeah, yeah, you know I'm good for it. When have I ever let us down?"

Dave opened his mouth to quip at him, but started laughing when Ike shoved his arm and directed his attention to Pete. "What about you, eh? You feeling up to it?"

"Mate," he said pointedly, his eyebrow raised, "more than I ever have." Pete grinned, knowing each of them would be keeping extra close watch on him despite him feeling like no one would be able to knock him to the ground.

"I've been trying to get Fiona down here for some drinks," Swill started to explain, "her bestie is here staying with her for a bit and said they were looking to go out on the pull-"

"Aye, I'll show your sister a good time," Ned interrupted, causing Swill to glare at him seriously.

"Don't you fucking think for a second you're gonna touch my sister."

Pete laughed into his beer, listening to the two of them carry on until Keith interrupted them.

"Isn't she the hot one that moved away a few years back?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Swill confirmed.

"Oi, she's fit as fuck," Ned chimed in, making a crude gesture with his hands.

"She's here helping her sister out with her nephew or something, I dunno," Swill nonchalantly explained. "I keep telling her that Fi's place is too cramped and she should come stay with me."

"In your dreams!" Pete laughed, "Poor girl would be traumatized if she spent more than five minutes with you."

"Yeah, well, you'll just see when she comes 'round, eh. I'm very charming when I need to be."

"The only charm you're going to have is when you're helping me kick the snot out of Manchester's top bloke." Pete wrapped his arm around Swill's shoulders and necked the rest of his pint, the exhilaration of the upcoming match and fight already tingling through his veins.

"Fucking right, mate!" Swill cheered, patting Pete on the back aggressively to help pump him up even more.

Saturday turned out to be one of the best days Pete could remember having. The Hammers won 2-0 and him and the boys made the ruck afterward almost look too easy, but it didn't go without it's evidence.

He looked at his bruised reflection in the mirror, having missed seeing various shades of red and blue marking his face, his skin tender as he pulled the razor down over it before rinsing it off under the tap. He smiled to himself in thinking a clean shave would make up for his appearance when he showed up to school that morning, the colours even more pronounced than they were yesterday, having already earned glares from other staff members as he walked through the hallways to his classroom. The little lads always got a kick out of seeing their teacher's battle wounds unlike the Headmaster, but Pete still did his best to set a good example for them and prove to everyone that even a Weekend Warrior could maintain his professionalism. Pete winced when he went over a cut on his cheek, making blood spring from it again, and washing the remaining shaving cream off his cheeks and chin, he dried his face and went through to his bedroom to get dressed.

"Have a good day, Jack!" you smiled, watching your nephew climb out of the back seat of your car, thinking how dapper he looked in his neatly ironed school uniform and finding how he styled his hair with a bit of gel too sweet. He was growing up so quickly, ten going on fourteen it seemed like some days, and despite the circumstances, you were grateful to be around him more. There was no doubt that the split between your sister and his dad was tough on him, but overall he seemed to be coping okay, and you hoped a small bit of it was because his one and only amazing Aunt was there to help look after him. Part of your designated duties were to drop him off and pick him up from school and football practices, your work hours more flexible and easier to line up with his activities than your sister's, and it was the least you felt you could do to help out.

"Thanks, Auntie."

"You've got your football gear, right?" you called out through the passenger window you quickly rolled down before he got too far from the car.

"Yup," he confirmed, holding up his cleats and giving his backpack a shrug to keep over his shoulder.

"Okay, then, I'll see you at half four when practice is over. Maybe we'll go grab a bite and see a film?"

He scowled, "The match is on tonight!"

You raised your hands in mercy, "May the football gods forgive me!"

It earned a laugh from him, making you smile, the little 'see ya!' he gave you as he turned and ran off toward the building enough to make your Tuesday feel a little less mundane.

Glancing out of the corner of your eye at the backseat as you reached for your purse, you did a double-take, noticing Jack's lunch bag and homework left forgotten on the seat.

"Shit!" you hissed before giving a long sigh, looking out the window for any sign he was still around.

He was long gone into the school now, forcing you to switch your car off and take it inside, and you trotted down the pathway quickly in your heels so as not to be late to work yourself.

Something had cheesed-off the secretary already this morning, and with little to no help from her, you took it upon yourself to wander down the hallways in search of Jack's homeroom.

"You alright there, Jack?" Pete asked, passing out a worksheet on each desk, his concern growing after noticing the sulk on the boy's face. He looked like he was about to cry, having finished rooting through his bag for the second time since he'd gotten into class, clearly searching for something that wasn't there.

"I don't have my assignment." There was so much defeat in the poor kid's voice, and Pete couldn't bring himself to be cross with him even if he wanted to be.

"It's alright, mate, you can hand it in tomorrow."

When that didn't seem to ease his troubles over it, Pete crouched down beside his desk, his leg complaining as he did.

"You did do it, yeah?"

"Yes," Jack confirmed, his disappointment not fading. "I think I left it in my Aunt's car."

"Right, then there's nothing else to be done about it for now, eh? Mistakes happen, I won't knock any marks off for it."

"I forgot mine, too, Mr. Dunham," the boy sitting behind Jack called out.

"No you did not, Louis," Pete said through a wince as he stood. "The only thing you forgot was to actually do it."

Louis, along with all the other boys, laughed, the kid being famous for never handing in anything on time or simply neglecting to do half the assignments tasked in the first place, his admission not coming as a surprise to Pete.

About to explain the instructions on the pages he had just handed out, Pete was interrupted by a light knock and the door opening, making all of them pause to look at the slightly embarrassed, but extremely beautiful woman who was disrupting their class.

"I'm so sorry," you began, smiling in your bashfulness. You looked directly at Jack, making Pete swivel on the spot he stood on to follow your gaze before looking back at you with a big grin on his face, watching as you held up a folder containing what had to be his forgotten assignment.

"Looks like you've got yourself a guardian angel, mate," Pete smirked, limping over to the door where he opened it more for you.

You apologized again, but somehow couldn't wipe the smile from your face as you got lost in Jack's teacher's vibrantly blue eyes, the colour seemingly enhanced and appearing almost fake due to the reddish bruises that surrounded them.

"Don't give it another thought," he assured you, looking back at you with a similar amusement before reaching his hand out to take the folder decorated with West Ham United stickers from you.

More bruises and cuts decorated his knuckles, making you wonder what the hell this man got up to when he wasn't teaching your nephew, and you made a mental note to ask Jack questions about it all later.

"You've forgotten your lunch, too," you spoke, peeling your eyes away from the man who made butterflies flutter violently in your stomach. Jack trotted up to the front of the class where you stood, taking the bag from you sheepishly.

"Jack, you're a very lucky lad," Pete began, moving to perch on the edge of his desk. "I don't have anyone bringing me my lunch if I've left it."

You shrugged and nervously tucked your hands in the pockets of your jacket now that they were free, biting your lower lip to try to stop yourself from smiling more.

"I won't take up anymore of your time," you said to the impossibly handsome teacher, maintaining eye contact with him as you took a step backwards toward the door, praying your feet didn't betray you. "Sorry, again, for the disruption."

"Not a problem at all," he said slowly through another bright grin, his head tilting curiously as he crossed his arms over his chest while you walked through the door, closing it behind you.

The second it latched you heard the entire class erupt in a long 'ooooooo', jeering their teacher as any group of ten-year-old boys would for talking to a girl, making you smile even more when you heard him shush them and chuckle lightly before continuing on with his lesson.

10:47 Fiona: We're going to the pub tonight.

10:49 You: …

10:49 Fiona: I said, we're going to the pub tonight. That's an order.

10:51 You: Fine.

10:51 Fiona: Don't be mardy. We need to get out of the house. I promise to show you a good time.

10:51 Fiona: Plus, there's a match on, so it'll be full of fit lads.

10:52 You: Is that really your main selling point?

10:52 Fiona: Yes. We'll see which of us can get the most free drinks.

11:09 Fiona: I'm taking your silence as a yes.

11:09 Fiona: Maybe you'll even get a snog or a shag in the toilets!

11:17 You: I swear you're a bigger perv than your brother.

Tucking your phone back inside your desk drawer, you bit the inside of your cheek and sighed out deeply, trying to regain concentration on the computer screen in front of you, but it was helpless. All you could think about was the fraction of a possibility of seeing Jack's teacher there, the teacher whose name you didn't even know, out of the simple fact that he probably spent his time outside of school in a pub watching football as most men did. Even if he did happen to be in that exact pub, in that exact part of London, on that exact night, the chances of him being there without a woman, or many, hanging off his arm were slim. Maybe he was even engaged or married, happily at home on a Tuesday night with his missus…

Regardless of your speculations, you continued to think of the way he had looked at you, letting this silly and unexpected fantasy get the better of you, recounting every moment of your meet-cute and how unbelievable it would be to find yourself tangled up with the likes of him. Had you exaggerated the glint in his eyes and the brightness of his smile, or how he made your whole body tingle with that nervous-excitement enough to feel like you were floating?

With another sigh, you willed yourself to get a grip, needing to get something accomplished in your workday, the chances of seeing him outside the school slim.

Still, a girl could dream, and smiling to yourself, you secretly thanked your friend for her persistence in taking you out.

Several very distracted hours later, you pulled up beside the pitch outside the school, seeing a small mob of boys in various coloured jerseys running around it, and your eyes immediately found and fixed on the tall coach that was unmistakably the same man who had occupied your mind all day.

You sat for only a couple of minutes before their practice was over, watching the banged-up teacher with a hitch in his step walk around collecting pylons while the boys ditched their jersey's into a bag and started to clean up their belongings piled near the fence.

Jack ran to your car even though his bags were far too heavy for him to be, and seeing how sweaty he was along with the muddy stains covering his gym gear, you wondered how many of these pick-ups it would take until your car began to smell like gross footy equipment.

"How was it?" you asked when he hauled on the door and threw his stuff in, flopping himself into he back seat before shutting the door and putting on his seatbelt.

"Good. Thanks for bringing my assignment, you're a legend."

"Don't I know it," you winked at him, taking one last look over at his teacher who just so happened to be staring at you, and you felt yourself flush from head to toe as you tore your gaze away from him and blinked into reality, putting your car in gear and driving off.

You were quiet for a couple of minutes, debating quizzing your nephew about his teacher, and ultimately decided there was no harm in it.

"Does your teacher always show up with bruises on his face?"

Glimpsing in the rearview mirror, you saw Jack smile. "Mr. Dunham? Yeah, most of the time."

"You're acting like that's a normal thing, Jack," you laughed, "Why is he always battered?"

"He's a Hooligan, so yeah, it's normal."

"A Hooligan?”

"In a footy firm?” he emphasized in the form of a question, like it was the most obvious thing. “Yeah. West Ham’s, obviously."

You nodded, trying to wrap your head around the information you were getting. You knew of the firm because of Fiona, having heard the odd thing about it through her because of her brother Swill, but the ins and outs of football were something you didn't pay much attention to anymore. You weren't even sure if Swill was still a participant of the barbaric side of football, assuming he might have given up his hooliganism in exchange for his respectable career as an accountant.

"Mr. Dunham's the coolest. He's everyone's favourite teacher. A lot of grown-ups and other teachers think he's bad or whatever, but he's the nicest out of anyone and is really smart, too," Jack went on, pulling you out of your thoughts for a moment. "I want to teach history like him when I grow up. It's my favourite subject."

"Well, then, I'm sure glad I brought in that assignment for you."

"Yeah, I was real upset that I forgot it. I want to keep my grades up in his class."

It was incredible to hear your nephew talk like this, finding a role model in someone so unconventional, but seeing as his father wasn't really one to look up to, you figured it was good he found someone who inspired him.

"Right, my man," you announced, parking in your sister's driveway. "Enjoy the match! I hope they win!"

"Mr. Dunham says they will for sure. Birmingham doesn't stand a chance!"

"Well good, because even I am going to watch it tonight!"

Jack pulled a shocked face, "You're gonna watch football?"

"Yes! Cheeky…"

"Make sure you cheer for the proper team!" he laughed, tugging on his West Ham shirt to show you the crest. He closed the door after taking out all his things and ran up to the house where he stuck his tongue out at you from the porch, making you laugh and shake your head.

"Want another one, Pete?" Bovver asked, nodding to his empty glass that had been drained for a while now.

"Nah, man, I'm good. Gotta be sharp for work tomorrow."

"Since when?"

Pete glared at his mate, not wanting to get into too many details, the truth behind his reduced consumption of pints being he had just taken some pain pills on account of his leg. He had done his best to cope with it, but after running around too much at practice he had to give in, needing something to help take the edge off.

"Oi, Fi's on her way over," Swill said, sitting down beside Pete.

"Oh, tonight? Sweet," Pete said, curious to see who her friend was and if she was actually as fit as the other guys kept claiming she was.

The Abbey was packed by the time the game started with the GSE dispersed throughout to watch on the various screens hung on the walls and above the bar, Pete sticking to their usual spot in the back corner where less people were gathered.

He spotted Fiona making her way through the crowd, judging by her tipsy smile and half-finished pint that she had already been here for a decent amount of time, the atmosphere of the whole place very rowdy as the Hammers maintained a lead.

"Pete!" she called, nearly pushing someone down to get to him to give him a hug.

"Aye, aye!" He stood and accepted her embrace, unable to recall the last time he had seen her.

"How are you doing? You gave everyone quite the scare!"

He chuckled, "Yeah, all good. I'm doing fine now, thanks, Fiona." He took his seat again and looked up at her with a smile, watching as she clapped her hand on her chest.

"What a relief, you should've seen how gutted they all were. Swill was beside himself."

"As they should've been!" he laughed, spinning his empty glass on the coaster. "You enjoying the match?"

"Wha- oh! Yeah," she laughed, her smile somehow larger than her brother's, "I'm not paying all that much attention if I'm honest!"

"I can tell!"

She shrugged and took a long sip of her drink, glancing around the bar.

He nodded at her, his brows knitted, "Where's your friend?"

"Hell if I know! Somewhere over there," she waved, motioning in the direction of the pool table, "Ned and Swill are chatting her ears off."

"Sounds about right…"

Pete settled into his seat and drew his focus back to the match as Fiona went and greeted someone else, but he'd be kidding himself if he pretended his thoughts weren't constantly on you, unable to get you out of his mind for even a second. He wondered if he would be lucky enough to see you again; if Jack would just so happen to forget something on a weekly basis and if you were going to be the one consistently picking him up from school and football practice, or maybe even be the guardian he would get to sit down and discuss Jack's grades with at parent-teacher interviews.

But it was rare for lightning to strike twice.

The Brigid Abbey Pub itself was incredibly charming, even if most of the people occupying it were far less so. Swill was the same as always, never changing his lewd, loud ways despite being forced to be well-mannered and respectful throughout the day, but it was rare that anyone had ever made you laugh as hard as he did. His mates were all there, most of them hanging around where you and Fi were, but mentions of someone named Pete and his whereabouts kept coming up.

You found yourself taking in your surroundings more than the game itself, looking at all the plaques and paraphernalia that hung on the walls, all while scanning the crowd in hopes of spotting the one person you somehow felt desperate to see again.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Hmm? What? No one," you lied to Fiona, though very unconvincingly.

"You spotted a fit bloke, didn't you?" she said with a grin that rivaled Swill's.

"Yeah, me," Swill chimed in, causing Fiona to talk back to him about being gross and them to start bickering as they usually did.

They always managed to make you laugh, and you had to admit you were having a better time than you thought you were going to, enjoying the company of your bestie and her brother, who's mates were exceptionally kind and welcoming.

It wasn't until you overheard a couple of them discussing a fight they had had that you really started paying attention to what was happening around you.

“Wait, are you still part of all that?” you asked Swill, grabbing his arm to make him turn around to face you.

"For life!" he exclaimed, "I'll be dead before I leave it."

"Yeah, well, some of you are making that come true more than others," Fiona scoffed.

You screwed up your face in complete bewilderment, "Wait. What?"

"The head of the firm," she began explaining, "their mate, Pete, nearly died about four months ago in a fight. He's just been back to work the last few weeks and everything. It’s a complete miracle he's even alive."

"Jesus Christ," you muttered. "And he still fights?"

Ike huffed out a laugh before turning serious, "Oh, fuck yeah…like nothing ever happened."

The rest of the lads all excitedly started recalling how intensely this Pete had fought the other day, going on about how their fearless leader was back and stronger than before.

"Is he here?" you asked, wanting to meet this death-defying prodigy of England's roughest unofficial sport.

"'Course he is," said Ned, "he's sat over there in his usual spot." He nodded toward the back corner of the pub, and standing on your tip-toes, you attempted to see over the hoard of heads between where you were and there, but it was impossible to manage.

It was almost hard to believe that these men, who held regular jobs and had seemingly normal lives, still carried on the insane, delinquent habits of the firms brought on from decades prior, and even more so that after one of them was nearly killed, they continued on with more pride than ever.

The match ended in a win for the mighty Hammers, the high spirits of their dedicated supporters lingering on in the pub, helping to keep Pete going despite being the most sober one of all his mates. As the groups of people started to thin out, he was finally able to spot where Fiona and the rest of them had been loitering, his eyes trained on one person in particular.

His heart hammered in his chest as he downed the rest of the beer he had been nursing, praying for the slight nervousness he felt to calm.

"Well, fuck me," he murmured under his breath, standing from the table where he left Dave asking him what he was on about and where he was going.

Not bothering to ease his friend's mind with an explanation, Pete slowly made his way through the crowd, almost afraid that if he moved too quickly, the scene he was walking toward would vanish from his sight like a mirage.

A grin that met his eyes crept up his lips, thinking that maybe dreams didn't fade and die and it was possible that lightning could strike twice after all.

---

Part 2

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @inbar-thomas1980 @theesirenteller

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this series or any others, please comment, send an ask or a DM! 💗

#pete dunham #green street hooligans #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam characters #pete dunham x female reader #pete dunham x reader

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thewulf · 1 year

Text

Works and Requests

Oh man I knew this day would come, I finally have to make seprate masterlists for some fandoms, this main post is too massive now! Masterlist's below the cut <3

If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up

Fluff: ✿‎ ‎

Angst: ✦‎

Hurt/Comfort: ‎♡

Top Gun Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The Lord of the Rings Masterlist

Harry Potter Masterlist

Outer Banks

JJ Maybank

Accidentally in Love ‎♡✿‎ ‎

Always & Forever Part 1 | Part 2 ♡✿‎ ‎

Here For You ‎♡✿‎

Tides of Comfort✿‎

Rafe Cameron

Who Did This To You? Part 1 | Part 2 ♡✿‎

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

Big Blue World✿✦‎

Terrible Liar✿✦‎

Whatever The Hell This Is✿✦‎

Interesting✿✦‎

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I Want To✿✦

By Your Side♡✿

Sunflowers and Second Chances♡✿

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Don't Cry✿✦

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A Safe Place♡✿

Steve Randle

Peachy Girl♡✿

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Adorably Clueless ✿‎

That Was the Moment ♡✿

Treat You Better✿✦

Twilight

Paul Lahote

Forever Yours♡✿‎

Call of Duty: MW2/3

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Lassie♡✿‎

Captain John Price

The Price of Protection♡✿‎

Avatar Way of Water

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Different | Part 1 | Part 2 ✿‎ ‎

Marvel

James "Bucky" Barnes

At Odds ✿✦‎

Celebrities

Miles Teller

Thank You Kind Stranger ✿‎

Works In Progress (WIP's)!

JJ Maybank x Sister Reader - Request!

Who I Write For:

Top Gun: Maverick & 1986

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Bob Floyd

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Any other pilot upon request!

Harry Potter

The Marauders Era

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Sodapop "Soda" Curtis

Ponyboy "Pony" Curtis

Dallas "Dally" Winston

Steve Randall

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Avatar

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The Last of Us

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Call of Duty: MW2/3

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Any other upon request!

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lilacevans · 4 months

Text

𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘… 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜?

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ༊*·˚ | take a peak here! •°. *࿐

✧* meet the brothers | meet the uncles | check out the playlist *✧

the concept *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set one - pete finds out

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set two - ari meets with his uncle

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set three - the boys are arguing, again

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set four - anywhere you want | pete brenner

meet the family *✧ ༊*·˚

*updated daily!

the introduction *✧ ༊*·˚

opening night *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the regulars

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> visitor: ransom drysdale

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the staff (coming soon!)

pete's place presents: the drabbles. *✧ ༊*·˚

*minors need not interact. this is a 18+ space.

*this is a dark au, with heavy topics & triggers. happy endings do not happen here.

#chris evans #— lila’s secret project🤎#chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #pete brenner fic #pete brenner #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen fic #curtis everett #curtis everett fic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #jake jensen fic #jake jensen #ari levinson #ari levinson fic #pete's place #lila writes

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dontcare77ghj · 11 months

Text

Children

Wanda x reader x Peter

When you were a child, you pictured your life going the way many orphans dreamed of.

Idealistically.

You dreamed of a family picking you, wanting you, and bringing you to a home filled with love and maybe a dog. The white picket fence lifestyle.

When HYDRA picked you, you had been unaware at the time, as had the seventy-four other children, how quickly that dream would shatter.

And, suddenly, the dream became making it to the end of the week.

Surviving the experiments, the torture, and living just a little while longer. Though some days you prayed for death more so than life.

When the Avengers raided the facility just after your fourteenth birthday, and the seventy-fourth child died, you thought you were dreaming.

Even now, two years later, there were days you were sure this was all some sick dream. That you would wake up back in your cell with no chance of a future.

But you didn't.

Instead, you woke up in your room in the Tower with your big windows, open doors, and a family waiting for you a couple of floors down.

Right now, you had no big dreams for the rest of your life. You did not plan out as you had when you didn't know better.

For now, you were living and enjoying the days as they came.

And you weren't going to let anyone take that from you.

"Nat, give me back the foundation!" You huffed, putting your hands on your hips.

"No. You don't need it. So you can't have it." Natasha told you firmly.

"You know I can just take it from you, right?" You asked, staring at the woman who'd resorted to standing on your bed.

"And I'll kick your ass. Point?" Natasha raised a brow.

"Nat, I don't have a scarf, and my hair won't cover this." You gestured to your neck. "It's ugly."

"It's a battle scar, and they're never ugly." Natasha corrected you, jumping to the floor. "You got this saving Steve's ass. You don't have anything to hide." She said, brushing the hair from your neck.

"But,"

"But?"

"What if Wanda and Pete don't like it?" You asked, touching the still tender cut.

"Okay, first of all, those two are usually covered in worse than this, okay? And second of all, they won't care." Natasha said, cupping your face in her hands.

"Yeah?"

"They asked you on this date after you'd been sparing with Steve." Natasha reminded you. "You were sweaty and out of breath,"

"I didn't smell great."

"Probably not. But they still asked you." Natasha said. "You look beautiful, and they're not going to know what to do with themselves."

"Are you sure?" You asked, anxiety making a mess of your stomach.

"Yes," Natasha promised, kissing your temple. "Now, are you ready to watch their jaws drop?"

Non-reader POV

"You two look nice." Steve smiled as Wanda and Peter entered the living room. "Big night on the town?"

"Can you sound any more like a dad, Steve?" Bucky groaned.

"You bring Wanda back by eleven, Parker." Clint reminded the vigilante. "I know where you live, and I know how to get in."

"I stand corrected," Bucky muttered.

"You know we're sixteen, right?" Wanda raised a brow at the archer.

"Oh, it's so cute when they think sixteen is grown up," Tony said, sitting beside Clint.

"Yeah, well, they go from sixteen to seventeen to eighteen, to out of your life pretty quickly." Clint sighed.

"Isn't your oldest thirteen?" Peter cocked his head.

"The oldest that I know of," Clint said, a shiver running down his spine.

"Anyway," Tony shook his head. "Where are you two off tonight? Do you want to borrow a car? Or Happy?"

"We're okay, Mr Stark. We don't need a car or Happy." Peter was quick to tell the man who was already getting his phone out. "We're going to the restaurant just down the street."

"Ooh, the good one with the good gelato?" Bucky groaned. "Stevie, get me some gelato." He said, hitting the blonde's arm.

"Get your own gelato, punk."

"The place down the street needs a reservation on Friday nights. Aren't you two cutting it close?" Tony asked.

"We have twenty minutes before we need to be there." Peter shook his head.

"We're just waiting on Y/N," Wanda added.

"I thought you were going on a date?" Bucky cocked his head.

"We are. With Y/N." Peter said, grabbing Wanda's hand as he stared nervously at the Avengers before them.

"Well, shit. I lost that bet."

"Yeah, I had June on the books."

"You bet on us?" Wanda scoffed.

"Ignore them. Congratulations."

"Just remember, kid. If you hurt either of them, we know where you live." Clint threatened, despite the smile on his face.

"Oh, please. My kid is a gentleman." Tony scoffed. "And, in a move very similar to me but doubled, he's picked two women who'll kick his ass for us if he does anything stupid."

"Ahem." Natasha's voice startled the men on the couch, causing them to turn. "If you lot are done, Peter, Wanda, ta-da," Natasha said, stepping aside.

Y/N stood a couple of paces behind where Natasha had been, and Wanda and Peter's jaws dropped.

"Y/N, you look stunning." Wanda smiled, moving towards the girl.

"Thank you." Y/N blushed. "Sorry, I'm late. Nat had to help me with my hair."

"You're not late." Peter was quick to assure. "We're early. Like so early. We probably rushed a little bit, but we were also nervous. But you could probably tell that because now I'm rambling,"

"Pete," Wanda said, taking the spider's hand with hers. "Breathe."

"Sorry," Peter said after a second to a giggling Y/N.

"It's okay. I'm used to it." She smiled. "You both look really nice. You even match." She pointed to Wanda's dress and Peter's matching bowtie. "I should've asked about the dress code."

"Well, we actually thought about that," Wanda said, using her magic to float a plastic container over to the three of them. "Peter found this, and we thought it might be cute."

"But if you don't want it you totally don't have to wear it," Peter said as Y/N opened the container and gently picked up the red corsage.

"No, I love it." She assured the two. "Help me put it on?" She held out her hand.

"Please, tell me you're filming this." Steve broke the moment. "This is adorable."

"No filming." Wanda groaned.

"Alright, you three better get out of here before one of this lot gets out a camera," Natasha said, ushering the teens to the elevator.

"Be good!"

"Have fun!"

"Be home by eleven!"

"Make good choices!"

Reader POV

"Phil, I appreciate being considered for this, but,"

"It's suicidal." Bucky cut in, scowling at the file in his hand. "She's not going."

"Barnes, you can't make that decision for her." Phil sighed.

"I don't want to do this, Phil." You told the agent. "I'm not an agent. I'm not trained for this. It's nice of Fury to consider me,"

"Nice? He wants you to do this on your own, knowing you have no formal training and that you're a child." The soldier scoffed, throwing the file onto the table and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "If you try and take her, I will take you out." He said, dead-staring the agent in the eyes.

"No one is going to take anyone," Phil promised, raising his hands. "I'm passing on Fury's offer, that's all."

"That's all?" Bucky raised a brow.

"That's all." Phil nodded. "And since you've made it clear how you feel, I'll be on my way." He added, rising to his feet.

"I'm really sorry, Phil." You told the agent.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, kid." Phil shook his head. "I'll let Fury know your decision." He said before making his way out.

"Thanks for standing up for me, Buck." You said, turning to the man who gave you a smile.

"Anytime, small fry." He knocked your shoulder. "C'mon, let's get you a cupcake."

"You're such a cheater!"

"Just because you don't know the rules."

"We know the rules. You're the one not playing by them."

"The rules of MASH are clear. You have to put a different people for your future spouse." Peter told Wanda.

"And you have to put them individually." You added.

"But this way, I get to have you both. I win, you win, it's fine." Wanda waved a hand. "Besides, you want to talk about cheating and not following the rules? Then who's the one who put a draw two on a draw four?"

"You can!" You exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. "It's somewhere in the rules. I read it once."

"In a dream, maybe." Peter scoffed. "That is nowhere in the rules, and we are not having this argument again."

"Why, because you know I'm right?" You challenged the spider.

"How did we get to this? We were talking about Wanda cheating." Peter reminded you.

"I am not cheating. I am just making sure I get the future I want." Wanda shrugged.

"Alright, maybe this is not the best game for us to be playing." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "What's next on your list of things Wanda missed out on?" You turned to Peter.

"I have a list of movies, snack concoctions, a rebellious phase was added,"

"And achieved, I'd say." Wanda cut Peter off. "Why do we have a list again?"

"You wrote the list. You even added 'have a happy childhood' to the top. Which, just proves you've been spending too much time with MJ." You reminded her.

"You know what's not on that list?" Wanda asked as she took the notepad from Peter's hand. "Spend a day with you both."

"I think we've accomplished that many times over," Peter commented.

"Well, don't they say you should always repeat that which you love?"

"Oh, is that why we always end up doing that one position?" You snarked, causing Wanda to snort and Peter to burn red.

"Y/N, you can't say that! Someone might hear you!" Peter hissed, his head snapping to the door as if someone were going to bust through it.

"The only other two apartments on this floor are Nat's and Steve's, and they're out being adults." Wanda reminded Peter.

"What's the matter, Peter? You can do the act, but you can't say it?" You teased.

"I can say it."

"Then say it. Sex."

"Y/N."

"Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex-" You chanted before letting out a squeal as Peter launched across Wanda and tackled you to the bed.

"Peter, don't break the bed again!" Wanda squealed as she ended up smooshed between you and Peter.

"That was an accident!"

"And Steve still won't let us hear the end of it."

"And do you really want to go to Tony and tell him you broke another bed?"

"No." Peter burned redder than before. "I do not want to have that conversation again." He said, laying down atop the two of you.

"So, what? You're just going to use us as pillows for the day?" You asked, running your fingers through his curls.

"Yep."

"Well, that crosses that off the bucket list." Wanda smiled at you.

"Nice work." Maria complimented, pushing off the doorframe and moving towards where you sat on the ground.

"Not good enough to win." You huffed, glaring at Clint, who sat opposite, not out of breath in the slightest.

"I've had decades of training, kid. If you'd won, it's because I let you." Clint said, nudging your foot with his.

"And if not for that reason, there'd be a problem," Maria added, sitting beside you. "So, Fury sent me to talk to you."

"Oh my God, seriously?" You groaned, flinging yourself back on the mat. "He knows I'm ignoring him and his emails for a reason, right?"

"That's why he sent me," Maria told you.

"Yeah, well, respectfully, Hill, you can go back to Fury and tell him she's not going on his mission," Clint said, narrowing his eyes at his friend as he shifted to sit at your side.

"Don't worry, Barton. I already told him." Maria assured the archer. "Every time he's asked me to come and talk to Y/N, I've reminded him she's already given her answer."

"Persisitent fucker." Clint muttered, glaring at the ground. "So, you came here to get him off your back?"

"That and warn you." Maria nodded, looking at you. "He wants you on this mission, kid. I don't know why, but he's not going to stop trying to get you to say yes."

"He can't make me go on this mission, can he?" You asked, looking between the adults.

"He'll get an arrow in his ass if he tries," Clint promised you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"You're not a SHIELD agent, Y/N. Not even a trainee. Fury can't make you do anything." Maria added. "Even actual agents have the option to say no."

"Right." You nodded, but you weren't convinced.

"Hey, kid, why don't you hit the showers?" Clint suggested. "You've done enough for the day."

"No, I can keep training." You insisted, jumping to a stand. "I'm good."

"Yeah, well, I'm beat," Clint said. "How about you hit the showers, and after, we'll go for a walk and pick up a pie?"

"Can we take Lucky with us?

"What kind of question is that? Of course, we're taking the dog." Clint chuckled. "Hell, we'll even take Hill with us."

"I am not paying for your pizza, Barton."

"You crossed the line!"

"Did not!"

"What do you call that? That's the goddam line, Stark!"

"Watch your language! There are children here!"

"Yeah, watch your fucking language, Grandpa!" You snickered as the adults bickered.

"Kids, what's the verdict?" Bruce sighed, looking over to the couch where you, Wanda and Peter sat.

"According to the rules of Wii Bowling," Peter started, reading off his phone.

"And the rules of real bowling," Wanda added.

"Mr Stark's roll is technically disqualified," Peter said, looking up at his mentor with a frown. "Sorry, Mr. Stark."

"This is bullshit." Tony huffed, collapsing onto a couch with Natasha. "What's the number for Nintendo? I'm calling them and getting them to change the rules."

"What are you going to do? Buy the company and rewrite the rules yourself?" Clint scoffed.

"I'm gonna buy the company and rewrite the rules myself." Tony nodded.

"Nat, please take your turn now before he tries to rewrite history." You groaned.

"Step aside, boys," Natasha said, rising to a stand. "I'm gonna kick Barton to the bottom of the scoreboard."

"We're on the same team!"

"In real life too." A voice from the doorway spoke, causing everyone's heads to snap up.

Nick Fury stood in the doorway, looking unimpressed at the scene before him.

"This is what you do when you're not on missions?" The man raised a brow. "You know, you could be training."

"And this is why you're never invited to game night, sourpuss." Tony huffed, watching the director stalk forward.

"You've been ignoring my emails, Miss L/N," Fury said, dropping the file in his hands on the table before you.

"I thought I'd made my point loud and clear," You said, sitting upright. "Perhaps you'd like to borrow one of Clint's hearing aids, and I can say it again." You added, causing several of the adults in the room to chuckle.

"I need you to take this mission. I need you to be ready to leave tomorrow morning." Fury ignored your comment.

"No." You said, crossing your arms.

"I have asked nicely, L/N. Don't make me ask again."

"You better not be threatening one of those kids in my tower, Fury." Tony narrowed his eyes at the man.

"L/N here has a duty to the rest of the world. She could do a lot of good with her powers and yet she refuses to."

"I don't have a duty to anyone." You said, rising to a stand. "I am a child, and my only 'duty' at this point is to finish high school and be a kid."

"Your childhood ended the day HYDRA started to experiment on you."

"That's a fair point. However, I'm still sixteen. I'm healing from a traumatic experience, and I'm making up for lost time." You said, crossing your arms. "I'm not an Avenger, Nick. And I'm not one of your agents. I'm a child."

"I started the Avengers. I assembled the team that saved your life. The team that gave you a home, a team of therapists, and a new life." Fury told you. "Most in your position would be more grateful."

"Grateful." You laughed. "You think me working my ass off to heal, to learn how to be a person for this team, isn't good enough?

Do you think the hours I put into training, both in hand-to-hand and with my own powers, isn't proof of how thankful I am? You think the fact I didn't jump off the roof that first night here and join the rest of those who were experimented on isn't me being fucking grateful?" You snapped, narrowing your eyes at the older man.

"L/N,"

"I am grateful to be alive, to have found a family, friends, and even people I love." You said, letting your hands drop to your side. You let out a smile when you felt Wanda and Peter take your hands. "I don't work for you or SHIELD. I'm not even a real Avenger. I'm a child whose fight or flight instincts don't work." You continued.

"L/N,"

"I am a child. Not your weapon." You continued to ignore Fury. "I'm not one of your agents who cower at the sight of you. I'm not a robot who does what you tell it. I'm a fucking child!" You snapped.

"Well, maybe Maximoff or Parker would be willing to take your place," Fury said, and you felt your blood boil.

"You don't get it do you?" You scoffed. "We're all fucking children! Cleaning up the mess you made of the world so we have a chance at a future.

None of us asked for this. None of us asked to go through the amount of pain we have in our short lives. The only thing we were supposed to worry about was graduating, getting a job, and having enough money to survive one more day.

But no. You ruined the world, you create problem upon problem and hide them away thinking someone else will fix it. Tell me, do the agents who you sent to their deaths, weigh on your mind? Do you think about the lives you've ruined at all?

I am not going to be one of those lives, Fury. I will finish school, I will go to college and graduate with a degree that means I get to help people. And then I will decide if I become an Avenger. And I will do this with my family behind me and the people I love at my side.

Because at the end of the day, you have made the world a mess. No matter what path any of us take, we will end up trying to fix your mess. Because, even when you are gone, and no one remembers your name or gives a shit about who you were, we will be here. And we will leave the world in a better way than you ever would have." You finished your rant, breathing deeply, as you stared at the now silent director.

"Well, shit, kid." Clint whistled. "You tell him."

"Very articulate, malen'kiy pauk." Natasha smiled.

"None of us could have put it better," Steve added, with Bruce nodding along.

"Now that Y/N's thoroughly destroyed you, pirate. Let me add my piece." Tony said, moving to stand at your side. "You will not be taking any of these kids on any mission. I guarantee if you try to do anything to any of our kids, the Avengers will make you regret ever breathing in their presence. We will destroy you and everything you hold dear. Now, get out of my Tower."

"Fine." Fury huffed after a minute. Without another word the director spun on his heel and stromed from the room.

"FRIDAY, be a doll and make sure he leaves." Tony asked as you collapsed back between Wanda and Peter.

"That was amazing, dorogoy." Wanda whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "We're so proud of you."

"I wish I had that on camera to show everyone how badass you are." Peter grinned, wrapping his arms around you. "I loved every minute of that."

"Thanks." You whispered, smiling at the two. "When he said he would get the two of you to go on that mission, I just got so angry. I love you two, and I don't want to ever see you hurt."

"And we love you." Peter promised, kissing your cheek.

"And nothing's going to happen to any of us. We're stronger together." Wanda agreed, pressing her lips to your temple.

"I wish I had a camera for this." Steve once again ruined the moment.

"Steve!"

"Alright, enough with the emotional stuff. Kids, very cute. Y/N, brilliant take down, now back to bowling."

Remember, all Taglists are open, as are requests. Taglists include the main taglist, individual characters, all male/female, and venom stories.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrnsbrns @smilexcaptainxinx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babiee @skeletoresinthebasementt @agent-barnes400 @reann-shitpostingg @skadikh @summergeezburrr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower177 @bindythedemonn @natasharomanoffismywifee @keenmarvelloverer @bbybarnesss @storiesbystarlightworld-blogt @buckybarnesplumwhore @bromieeomieee @marvelmenarebeautifull @niki-is-a-thing @pauloonig @abyssiniapleasant @beautybyfire @officalmarvelbaby @acertainredhead @reapersans-blog @adoreyou976 @casperlikejj @songbirdcannabe @montygator17 @cecedrake221717 @nyx20211 @black-dhalias @idontwannagomrstarkkk @chiyongberry @bunnyweasley233 @ratzy

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@imnotasuperheroo @confusinggemini612

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mynameismckenziemae · 5 months

Text

Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone-Chapter VI

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader (no use of y/n)

Goodbye for now

(previous chapter here, next chapter here)

Warnings: smut, same ol’ same ol’.

You wake up to a loud thump and groan from the living room. “Everything okay out there?” You call, too tired to check yourself.

“Yeah. I’m okay, Steve launched me off the air mattress.” Mickey responds with a laugh, “Not the ears, buddy!”

Bradley’s head pops up on the other side of Bob. “I know I was drunk last night but…we didn’t, uh…you know, me and you…with Bob?”

You laugh, throwing a pillow at him. “You’re an idiot”.

He laughs too, “I kid, I kid. I would definitely remember a night with Bobby here”.

Bob sits up with a yawn. “How’d you end up in here Brad?”

“Not sure. The last thing I remember is laying on the bed and telling you should try it, see to how comfy it is” Bradley says, trying to recall.

“Yeah okay, I remember now. I said why not and laid down too. Must’ve fallen asleep.” Bob replies.

“More like you both passed out,” you laugh, picking up your phone to show them the picture you got.

“Well, next time Sunny’s in the middle, Bob kept pushing me all night” Bradley complains.

“You kept nuzzling my neck with your mustache, it tickles!” Bob argues.

“Wait, Next time?” You ask.

“Yeah. Now that I know your bed is this comfy, I’m crashing in here every time I have too many beers with Pete.” Bradley says matter of factly as if you have no say.

Before you can argue, there’s a knock at the door. “Bob, I’ll take Steve out for ya. Penny’s making breakfast if anyone’s hungry” Pete says, already heading back down the stairs, Steve in tow.

You hear Nat and Jake stirring, talking with Mickey as you stretch. You’re all a little worse for the wear this morning, Jake’s missing his shirt, Mickey can’t find his shoe, and your hair is a rats nest, but hey-no one’s puking, so that’s a plus.

________________________________________

Pete takes a call when you’re all eating, everyone looking more alive with some food in them.

He comes back a few minutes later, looking grim. “That was Adm. Simpson. The mission’s been moved up. We leave tomorrow at 0800, and report to base at 0700.”

His words weigh heavily in the air, shifting the energy in the room from carefree to tense instantly.

“You too?” Penny asks. He nods, unable to meet her eyes.

Dread fills you at that. They’re all going, the best of the best. It’s definitely something serious.

Everyone finishes eating and cleans up in near silence, needing to get home to pack and tie up loose ends. You follow Bob to his truck, giving him a kiss and a promise that you’ll be over later, as you have to prep for the upcoming week first as well.

You strip the beds, vacuum, meal prep, and clean. As you’re putting the clean blankets back under your bed, you find the Polaroid camera you got for Christmas and a lightbulb goes off. You have an idea.

You find your prettiest lingerie and scroll TikTok for tutorials and poses before changing into deep red lacy boy shorts that hug your ass just right, paired with a matching push-up bra, you slip on a pair of red-bottomed heels you splurged on and you’re set. You set the camera on a step stool and set the timer. It takes a few practice takes, but you get it on the 3rd try.

You capture different poses in various states of undress. You have to admit, you look pretty damn good in the light of the early afternoon sun. You picture Bob finding them and getting all hot and bothered, jerking off to them. You end up pulling out your vibrator and bringing yourself off quickly, snapping a few pictures during, too.

You pick several of your favorites and place them in an envelope before writing: ‘For Lt. Bob Floyd’s eyes only’. You seal the envelope with a lipstick kiss and squirt a spray of perfume in the air before waving the envelope through it. Perfect.

You shower and pull leggings with an oversized tee before packing an overnight bag and you’re on your way.

________________________________________

Bob and Steve meet you at his door, taking the bag of takeout you picked up.

“All packed?” You ask as you kiss his cheek in greeting.

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m still waiting on a few things in the dryer. Not sure if you heard yet, but Mav said we can take our phones. We’ll have limited access but at least we’re allowed to have them this time”.

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh good.” You were dreading not being able to talk at all. The dryer dings and he leaves the room to get the clothes, you slip the envelope in his bag under some socks.

“I should’ve asked sooner, but my sister is stopping over in a bit to pick up Steve, are you okay meeting her?” Bob asks, plopping the clean laundry on the couch to fold it.

“I don’t mind at all. Annie, right?” You say, walking over to help him.

“Yep. She and her husband Mike, are taking the girls to Disney in 3 weeks, leaving on the 19th. Would you want to take Steve if I’m not back by then? I can board him if you can’t or prefer not to” he asks.

“Oh, I’d love to have him! I would’ve taken him the whole time but I’m not sure what my call hours will be yet, I’ll find out more tomorrow when I accept the position. I’m sure Amelia will kidnap him when I’m not home too” you joke.

“Thanks, that’s a relief knowing he’ll be in good hands. I hate this is all last minute,” he sighs, dropping the shirt he’s folding to pull you in for a hug. “I know this is new, but I’m—I just don’t want to leave you yet.”

“I don’t want you to either” you mumble into his chest.

________________________________________

You finish folding the clothes and help him pack, a little nervous that he’ll discover your gift, but soon he zips his duffle closed.

The doorbell rings as you two dish out the food. “Come in!” Bob calls.

“Hey, whose car is that in the drivew—oh, I’ll bet it’s yours. You must be Sunny…the pretty nurse from Minnesota that I keep hearing about?” She smiles, holding out her hand as Bob flushes.

You laugh, shaking her hand. “That’s me, and you’re Annie-the brilliant statistician and lifesaving sister.”

“I’ll take that over the ‘annoying little sister that he never wanted’ I heard all the time growing up” she teases.

“I literally only said that once…after you smashed the Hot Wheels track I had spent hours making,” Bob argues.

“Whatever you say. It’s nice to meet you though,” she smiles, turning her attention back to you.

“Likewise. Have you eaten yet? I brought plenty of food” you ask.

She nods, “I did. I’d love to stay and chat but I left the girls with the neighbor since Mike got called out to a fire. I wanted to bring them with me, but Harper keeps getting carsick if she rides more than 10 minutes and I really didn’t want Steve to eat it. Speaking of, I should really put a call into her doctor about that…” she rambles.

You try and hide your smile—she’s the complete opposite of Bob.

“It’s alright, I understand. Thanks again for taking him on such short notice. Sunny said she’ll take him when you guys go to Disney. I’ll FaceTime if and when I get the chance,” Bob says, hugging her.

“Be safe, okay? I love you” she sniffs, wiping her eyes.

“I will, I love you too. Tell Mike and the girls I say hi” Bob replies, voice cracking a little. You have to look away, or you’ll start crying next.

You take her phone number and text her right away so she has yours. She hugs Bob again and then takes off with Steve. The house feels too quiet.

You finish eating and clean up. It’s only a little after 7 but you both head to the bedroom.

Bob takes a seat on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. His head drops, obviously deep in thought. You step out of your leggings, and pull off your tee, leaving you in just your basic thong and bra as you pad over to him in your bare feet.

You lift his chin, surprised to see tears in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…scared” he replies, voice thick with unshed tears.

“Me too.” You reply softly before leaning down to kiss him.

He kisses you back slowly, sweetly, savoring every sigh and shiver. He rises and unsnaps your bra, pulling it down your arms before turning to lay you back on the bed. He strips off his tee with one hand and pushes his sweats off before crawling on the bed.

He kisses up from your ankle to your knee, knee up to your inner thigh. He places a sloppy kiss to your clit through your underwear, and you whimper as he moves on. He licks a path up your stomach, past your navel stopping to give your breasts attention. Your hands weave into his hair as he lavishes your nipples, sucking, nipping, flicking, teasing. “Please, I need…I need more” you whine, tugging lightly on his strands.

He surges forward for a kiss, thrusting his boxer-clad erection against your clit. The head of his cock catches your entrance and he stills, groaning lowly, feeling your wet warmth through both layers of underwear. He takes a shuttering breath before thrusting against you again, careful to not repeat it. “I want…cccan we? When I get back?” He pants into your neck.

“Yes, God yes, please,” you cry, getting close. Your fingers run down his back, before sliding under his boxer briefs to squeeze his ass, nails biting into his skin as you pull him into you harder. “Fuck!” He chokes out, cum soaking the front of his underwear. He continues rocking against you, and the added moisture is enough to send you over the edge too. You cry out into his neck, grinding your hips into his as you ride it out.

He catches his breath before pushing himself off you “I feel like a teenager again, dry humping in the backseat and jizzing in my pants,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Me too,” you smile up at him, “the only difference is I never got back then.”

He crawls off the bed, slipping off the cum soaked boxers and balling them up, walking away to throw them in the hamper. Your eyes naturally drift to his ass and widen as you see the crescents your nails left. Those are gonna sting in the shower.

“I’m gonna do one last load of laundry, do you want to add yours? He turns back to you, nodding at your underwear. You nod, climbing off the bed to pull them off and hand them over.

You clean up and get ready for bed in the bathroom, putting on the pajamas he left for you.

He takes his turn after you. He returns to the bedroom and wordlessly turns off the light before climbing into bed next to you. He puts his head on your chest and you run your fingers through his hair, putting him to sleep before drifting off yourself.

________________________________________

As always, morning comes too soon. Your phone’s alarm startles you awake at 5:15. Bob rises as you hit snooze. 10 minutes later it goes off again and you turn it off with a groan. You are not a morning person.

You smell coffee brewing as the shower turns on. You hear a yelp. “Jesus Sunny! What’d you do to my ass?!” He hisses.

“Want me to kiss it better?” You say with a smile.

He doesn’t reply, but shower door slides open.

You laugh, stripping your pajamas off and get in behind him.

________________________________________

He brings you to orgasm twice, once with his fingers, and the second time with his tongue.

You kneel to return the favor, but only after you kiss each mark your nails left.

________________________________________

He hold your hand as you drive him to base. The ride is quiet and somber.

You pull in the lot shortly after Jake and Nat.

Jake pulls you into a hug as soon as you get out of the car, knowing you need it.

_______________________________________________

Soon, everyone’s here. You make your way around the other family members to you say your goodbyes, saving Bob for last.

“Bring him home safe?” You ask Nat. “Of course” she replies, tearing up a little.

“No cuddling Bob without me, alright?” You tease. “No promises” Bradley winks, giving you a bear hug.

Bob pulls you in and Bradley releases you, kissing you deeply. Someone wolf whistles and Mickey yells to get a room.

You pull away with a laugh, but tears are brimming. “I’ll be here with Steve when you get back.”

He nods as Admiral Simpson clears his throat. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can” he whispers before kissing you one last time.

The tears flow as they walk away.

#robert bob floyd #top gun maverick #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia

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disasterofastory · 2 years

Text

The maid of Mr. Barnes - Part 8 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

The maid of Mr. Barnes Part 8 - Chaos for breakfast // The maid of Mr. Barnes Masterlist Bucky Barnes x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: wounds

Summary: Your morning doesn’t go as planned.

Steve sits at the counter in his usual seat. The light blue suit stretches on his broad back. The phone in his hands vibrates with a new message, but he doesn't give it more than a glance before his attention is back on you. You move back and forth, making coffee and pancakes for men you barely met before. Your hair is a bit of a mess, but the soft smile on your face is permanent. It is the first time he sees you so relaxed since the house became so rowdy. Their men are all over the place, eating and drinking. Dirty knives lay around the counter, and plates gather in the sink. There is a red jam stain on the table cloth you use to wipe down the marble.

"Peter!" You greet the young man when he appears at the door, stepping aside before it could hit him on the back. "Come and eat!" Before answering, the brunette's eyes wander to Steve for permission. The blonde smiles with a nod, watching Peter sitting down next to him. "Good morning, Mr. Rogers," he greets the older man, and when you put a plate in front of him full of pancakes and a mug of coffee, he adds. "Thank you, Y/N." "Call me Steve, Peter," Steve says for who knows home many times already. "I have known you since you finished high school." "Do you need help with the garden today, Pete?" You ask the boy when you have a few seconds of calmness. The kitchen is fairly quiet now that everyone is eating. "Not today," the boy answers. "I just came to pick up a few of my things." "Well, eat then, and you can be on your way," you nod. "Steve? Are you sure you are not hungry?" "Thank you, Y/N," the blonde man smiles gently at you. "You can go and eat. I will be fine."

You sit down on a free chair at the table, smiling at the men around it. The fruity jam melts on your tongue, and you are ready to devour it before you start working, but the commotion outside of the kitchen steals your attention from your breakfast. You barely have time to react while the others are already out to see what happened. You glance at Peter, who shrugs and follows you outside, staying in the background.

Sam and Nomad stand in front of the entrance door. The tall blond almost hangs on Sam's shoulder, beaten. He keeps Nomad on his feet, holding him tight by his waist. His lower lip is bleeding, and a bruise is already forming around his crystal blue eyes. "What happened?" Steve asks, stepping closer to them, but Bucky cuts in as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. "What the fuck happened?" He asks. His voice is booming. The windows almost rattle in their frame. "Hydra," Sam replies when he sees Nomad is not ready to speak yet. His head throbs, and he wants to sit down, but nobody moves to help him. Everybody is waiting for the boss's reaction, and they don't have to wait long.

Soon, the whole house is loud with Bucky's booming voice. You never saw him so angry before. His posture is taut, and his every word is a strike in the air. His men stand frozen, listening and keeping their heads low. The pleasant mood is nowhere now. His eyes are dark and furious as he commands around, threatening everyone. "We will wipe them off the face of the Earth," he promises. "No more fucking around!"

You don't even really listen to what he says. The tone he uses is enough to frighten you at first. Behind him, Sam pushes Nomad up to adjust his hold on the beaten man, and that's when you decide to do something. Forcing your legs to move, you keep your head low, staring at the floor. Your heart beats in your throat as you pass Bucky, who doesn't pause his monologue even when his eyes are on you, watching you stop in front of Nomad. Your back burns with everyone's eyes on you. "Come," you whisper to the man. "We have to take care of your wounds." You glance at Sam for permission, and when he nods, you take his place under the tall man's arm. His weight almost pushes you down, and the muscles flex in your legs to keep him on his feet. "Slowly," you hum, still keeping your voice quiet as you help him to the closest bathroom while the men stay in the foyer under Bucky's rage.

You sit Nomad down on the edge of the bathtub and close the door to keep the voices at bay. It becomes muffled, and you can see Nomad's body relax. "Damn it," the man groans. "I have a date tonight." In other circumstances, you would laugh. Here he is beaten up, barely standing on his legs, and he is worried about his date. "I'm sure they will understand," you tell him. "Do you need something? Maybe a hospital?" "No, no," he shakes his head. "I will be fine. There is a first aid kit under the sink." "Let me," you stop him, pushing him back gently to keep him from moving too much. His muscles taut under your touch. You take out the small, red box and start to clean his injuries. You try to be gentle and slow, but you can still see he is in pain. You frown with worry. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" "I'm fine," he says. "I just need to lay down a little." "I will get your room ready." "Thank you, Bunny." "Bunny?" You froze for a second. Nobody calls you Bunny except Bucky. It's weird hearing it from someone else. "I'm sorry," Nomad chuckles. His wide shoulders shake. "Barnes always calls you Bunny, and I forgot your real name." "Oh." Now you laugh too. "It's Y/N," you tell him. "But Bunny is fine too." You start to get fond of the nickname.

You are still busy with Nomad's wounds when the door opens with Bucky and Sam behind it. The air is still strained around them, but Bucky seems much calmer as he looks Nomad over. "How are you?" He speaks up first. "I will be fine," Nomad replies, trying to smile, but it forms into a grimace. "What happened?" "I wanted to talk to him," the blond man confesses. "Hydra attacked us. I didn't know they were there too, waiting." "And Winter? Where is he?" "He escaped. There was a girl with him." "A girl? Do we know her?" "No," Nomad shakes his head, making you frown and cup his cheeks to keep him in place. "I saw her with him before, but we don't know her. She lives in the next apartment to his." "What do you want to do, Bucky?" Sam asks, thinking over the information. The phone is already in his hands. "We will stop this nonsense," the man answers with determination. "I already send a few men to take care of Hydra for now, and we will find Winter again. They couldn't go far." While they talk, you put the first aid away before turning back to Nomad. "When you are finished, go to your room," you keep yourself from grimacing. You shouldn't order the man around, but you can't help it. He needs sleep and something to eat.

You feel tense and a bit afraid as you walk out of the bathroom next to Bucky. You are not sure if he is angry at you. Maybe you shouldn't have dragged Nomad away. Maybe you should have stayed in the kitchen.

A hand grabs your arm. The touch is soft and warm, making you look up into the stormy blue eyes. There is no anger in them, just gentleness and worry. "Thank you, Bunny. Come to my office later, okay? I want to talk to you."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #mafia au

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my-quackson · 1 year

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Steve the Clueless Babysitter

A/N: Requests are open and very appreciated, if there is anything you would like me to write with a certain avenger let me know! Summary: Peter has somewhere to be, which leaves you to be babysat by someone with no knowledge of babysitting whatsoever.

"Don go." You begged Peter while he carried you into the Avenger's tower. Apparently you were being babysat by one of them, you had no clue who though. "I know, I hate to leave you too, but daddy has to go beat up bad guys." He said making his way into what you assumed was the living room. There were two others in there, one you recognized to be Captain America and the other to be Thor. "I could totally lift that hamm- Oh, Peter you're here." Steve said getting up to face Peter. "Yeah I'm running kinda late, but everything you need is in here and if anything goes wrong just call me." Peter said handing him the bag.

"You be a good girl ok? I'll be back before you know it," Peter said quickly pecking your lips. There was no way you were falling for that, "back before you know it" always meant you'd see him in the morning.

"I'm gonna give you to Stevie now ok?" He attempted to hand you over, but you clung on to him like your life depended on it.

That was until Steve stripped you off of him and settled you on his hip. Curse his stupid super soldier strength.

"Shhh sh sh it's ok. I'm not that bad am I? He'll be back." Steve said attempting to calm you down from the fat tears that were now streaming down your face.

Steve kinda just stood there in the middle of the room awkwardly bouncing you in hopes of calming you down, while Thor watched from the couch poking fun at his little knowledge.

After awhile your cries turned into sniffles. “Are- are you all good now kiddo?” Steve asked as he sat you down on the couch next to the god. You just nodded and rubbed your eyes and whined.

“Umm do you need a nap? Milk? Blanket? Pacifier?”

“No nap.” You said shaking your head.

“Ok… no nap. How about a bottle? Pete said to feed you around this time.” Steve said checking his watch. You just nodded your head.

“Wait here with Thor and i’ll be back with your bottle. Thor don’t let her do anything bad.” Steve stated. Thor just nodded his head and waited for him to leave.

“He’s pretty up-tight huh?” The god asked. You just giggled.

“Wanna try lifting my hammer? You could potentially rule Asgard if you’re worthy.” Thor shared, placing the hammer on the coffee table.

You tried to lift it for a good minute until you realized it wouldn’t work, Thor just watched in amusement.

“I got your bottle.” Steve announced walking over to where you were sitting.

“Alright uh, would you be comfortable with me feeding you?” Steve asked sitting down next to you. You nodded and he pulled you into his lap, laying you down.

He hovered the bottle over your lips allowing you to decide when to start drinking. No one else has ever fed you other than Peter, so it was a new experience.

He just watched as you suckled on the bottle and the adorable noise it made. He cracked a smile while watching you drink and started humming a song that you’ve never heard before.

After you were done with the bottle Steve sat you up, which confused you at first. Then he started gently patting your back until you let out an involuntary burp. Which led your face to burn bright red from embarrassment, earning a chuckle from Steve and Thor.

“How about we watch a movie huh?” Steve asked apparently rhetorically because he didn’t wait for an answer. He got up and turned on Netflix and flicked through the movies.

“Anything in particular you wanna watch sweetheart?”

“Um.. Bambi?”

“haha I LOVE that movie! Wonderful choice youngster.” Thor exclaimed patting you on the head.

Steve clicked the movie and sat down beside you, he smelled like a bar of soap. (Understand my reference or look it up. :])

A quarter through the movie you thought maybe you should have taken Steve’s offer on that nap, you could barely keep your eyes open.

Steve noticed this and put your pacifier in. You fought to stay awake, but you knew sleep had won when you fell onto the super soldier’s chest and fell into a deep slumber.

You woke to the familiar smell of lavender, vanilla, and amber. There was only one person in the whole world you knew with that scent.

“Baby, wake up. You ready to go?” Peter asked as you still were lying on Steve.

“Daddy?” You questioned trying to focus on the person in front of you.

“Yes, that’s your daddy,” Steve chuckled “I guess that means I have to give you back now.” Steve said giving you to Peter and being overly dramatic, pretending to cry.

“Don cry Stevie, I be back.” You stated giggling, earning a smile from Steve.

“Thanks again Steve, hopefully she wasn’t too much trouble.” Peter said facing you accusingly.

“She was a very good girl. I’ll see you later kiddo.” Steve parted, lightly waving.

“Go give him a kiss on the cheek.” Peter whispered in your ear and setting you down.

You approached Steve and gave him the universal sign to be picked up, when he did you pecked him on the cheek and he just about exploded from baby-fever.

He returned it and handed you back to Peter.

“If you ever need a babysitter Pete, you better call me.” Steve warned.

“I will.” Peter said with a chuckle.

#daddy!peter #daddy!steve #little!reader

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welldonebeca · 10 months

Text

Android Hero (7)

WC: 1.6k words Warnings: Future AU. Tension. Robot Steve. Unhealthy relationships. Vaginal sex. Vaginal fingering. Overstimulation. Multiple orgasms. Possessive sex. Degrading kink.

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Masterlist

Steve was waiting for you a few steps away from the door the moment you opened it, nearly startling you.

“Two minutes early,” he remarked.

You flushed a little.

“Traffic was easy,” you shrugged.

He smirked.

“Good girl,” Steve spoke softly.

Your cheeks felt hot. You could barely remember what you had even done throughout the day, all you wanted was to come home on time to not disappoint him.

He extended a hand slowly and waited with his hand up.

“You know the rules,” Steve reminded you.

Your breath hitched a little and slowly bent, taking your underwear off from underneath your dress, and placing your panties in his hand.

No underwear in the house.

You watched him running a thumb over the gusset and smirked.

“Did you get wet thinking of coming home to me, miss?” he asked, stepping closer to you. “Right on the way home?”

You whined, pressing your legs together.

“Steve,” you protested. ”You edged me the whole time I was having breakfast.”

He chuckled, merciless, and pulled your dress up slowly.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded very softly.

You whimpered but complied, and he touched your cunt, breathing in slowly.

“Look at that,” he hummed. “You’re drenched.”

Steve moved back and knelt in front of you, pushing you against the door and raising your thigh, placing it on your shoulder.

“There’s my dinner,” he hummed.

You moaned when he covered your cunt with his lips, kissing and licking your folds, devouring you so quickly and hungrily you had to brace yourself so as not to fall down.

It didn’t take you any time to be close to an orgasm already.

“Steve,” you panted. “Steve, please.”

He took his lips from your clit, pushing two fingers into your cunt.

“You’re not going to cum, miss,” he reminded you. “Don’t forget.”

You whined, squirming, and your body tensed when your earphone warned you of an income call.

“It’s your brother, Pietro,” Steve warned you. “You shouldn’t leave him waiting.”

You pushed his head away, but he didn’t move.

“I’m not done,” he explained himself.

You stared at him. What, did he expect you to answer the phone while he went down on you?

Your phone rang louder in your purse, and Steve just looked at you, waiting.

“You shouldn’t make him wait,” he insisted. “It must be important.”

Oh, God.

You really were doing this.

You pressed the button behind your ear, taking the call, and Steve smirked before going back down, licking you from your cunt to your folds.

“Hey, Pete,” you mumbled.

“There you are,” he grunted. “I’ve been trying to get to you the whole afternoon. Are you in your office? I’m going up.”

You held back a sound yelp when Steve sucked on your clit.

“I’m not,” you hissed between your teeth. “I’m home.”

Pietro stopped on the other side, sounding stunned.

“You are home?” he asked. “It’s Thursday!”

“And it’s past five,” you quipped back. “So I’m home.”

Steve chuckled under you, and you sighed, trying not to sound so annoyed.

“I finished things up early,” you explained yourself. “So I came home.”

Your brother didn’t sound any pleased but apparently took your answer.

“Can I come over, then?” he asked. “I gotta talk to you.”

Steve started devouring you hungrily, so intense you couldn’t answer for a second, holding back, so your brother would not catch up on what was happening.

“No,” you gasped. “I can’t right now.”

Your brother didn’t sound pleased.

“Why not?” he asked, sounding accusatory. “What can you be doing that you can’t stop and receive your brother as a guest?”

“Pietro,” you hissed.

Steve squeezed your thigh tightly in his free hand, pushing a finger into your cunt and curling it against your sweet spot, and you tossed your head back, trying hard not to moan as you thought of an excuse.

“Y/N, I’m your big brother,” Pietro said on the other side. “And you can trust me. I just want to talk about your life, if there is anything new about your life I should know. Anyone new you might be seeing.”

So Wanda had told him already.

“Pietro,” you groaned while Steve licked across your entrance. “My love life should be private! You don’t tell me about everyone you see, do you?”

“What you can’t tell me?” he insisted. “I told you about Natasha!”

Natasha, who had made him wear panties when he was 19.

“It’s complicated!” you insisted. “If I was comfortable telling you, I would have told you already, alright?!”

You were met by a moment of silence before Pietro spoke again.

“Is he a bad guy?” he asked in a near whisper. “Does he have a wife?”

What?

Was that was he thought of you?!

Steve pulled away from between your legs, and licked the finger that had been inside you clean before pressing a button behind his ear.

"Pardon, Mr Maximoff, but Miss Maximoff has to get back to work. She's filling up more reports at home, rather than at her office."

Pietro huffed on the other side.

Wait, did Steve have access to your phone line?

He pushed two fingers inside as he pressed you against the wall, and all you could do was stay quiet.

“Hey!” Pietro protested. “She can’t just pass the phone off to you I’m her-”

“Yes, her brother, but sibling or not I am programmed to make sure Miss Maximoff is at her most productive, and she needs space at this moment,” Steve interrupted him. “Can I interest you in scheduling lunch with her once she is back from her week off, so you can deal with the subject?”

Your older brother didn’t sound any happy.

“You can stick that schedule up your ass,” he growled.

He called out your name as if he believed you were on speaker.

“We’re going to talk tomorrow, you hear?” he argued.

“No, you won’t,” Steve rolled his eyes. “Good day, Mister Maximoff.”

He pushed the button again, hanging up for the two of you, and raised his eyes to your face.

“Your earpiece, please,” he requested.

Your eyes widened.

“Steve, I can’t-”

He curled his fingers inside you, demanding, and your eyes rolled back.

You obeyed and handed it over, knowing he wasn't going to give it back until he decided it was time.

“Good slut,” he hummed.

You squirmed, and Steve fucked you slowly with his fingers.

“I’m requesting a day off tomorrow,” he affirmed. “And because you don’t work ,at the weekends, I deem this the perfect start for your week off, miss.”

You eyed him, shocked.

Day off? What was he talking about?

“No,” he put an arm around your waist. “Time to bed.”

Steve put you over his shoulder, still fingering you as he walked into your home.

He carried you to your bedroom, putting you on your bed and standing in front of you.

“Unless you want to go to work, miss?” he asked.

“Steve, tomorrow is my last day before my week off,” you reminded him. “They need me.”

He spread your legs slowly, kneeling between them.

“And what about your needs?” he asked. “What do you need?”

He kissed your knee, pulling your leg back and slowly kissing up on it.

“Remember what I’ve told you, uh?” he asked, humming. “That you’d cum after you were back from work on your last day.”

You squirmed, feeling too warm in your dress as he descended to kiss the back of your thigh.

“If we make today your last day, I can fulfil that promise now. Unless, of course, you want to wait a bit more.”

That was a terribly good argument.

“Steve,” you protested, still.

“Don’t you need to relax?” he asked, moving his hands up your hips, slowly pushing your dress along with them. “Don’t you need to be pampered and loved?”

He turned you around, and you bit your lower lip as he unzipped it.

“You do so much for them,” he hummed along. “And you’ve given them so many best-selling products.”

You did, right?

You had done so much for them in the latest years, you deserved more.

So, you gave in.

“Fine,” you looked at him. “You are right.”

Steve kissed the middle of your back as he pushed your dress from over your arms, and pulled it off of your body, tossing it out as you turned to face him once again.

He was smiling when you faced him again and gave you a sly look before kissing the valley between your breasts, slowly moving down.

"You are such a beauty," he hummed. "I can't believe you used to hide so much."

You squirmed and Steve smiled up at you.

"But that gives me the chance of being the first to see all of you, uh?" he winked. "The only one with access to the lovely body and sweet cunt."

You flushed.

You weren't a virgin, but certainly didn't have a lot of experience with sex either.

“Steve…” you whined a little. “Does this mean I can cum?”

He lifted his eyes to you, looking all wicked.

“Of course, my sweet slut,” he caressed the curve of your hip. “But on my cock.”

You whined. You had been waiting and edging for such a long time, and you would have to wait even more!

Steve moved back from you, standing and taking off his shit before pulling his cock out, already hard and twitching.

“Take off your bra, pretty slut,” he instructed.

You rushed to comply, taking it off and tossing it away, laying naked as he kicked off his pants just as well.

Fuck, you would never get sick of seeing his cock. It was beautiful, perfectly proportionate and so natural looking you wouldn’t ever guess it was a made thing.

Steve knew well what he was choosing once he did, he had to know what he was doing.

You spread your legs and earned a little chuckle.

“Such an eager slut,” he clicked his tongue, crawling on top of you.

You flushed, looking away from him, and Steve pulled you by the chin, making you look at him.

“My eager slut,” he whispered.

Steve kissed your lips softly, and you spread your legs more, moving your hands down his back.

“Please, Steve,” you whimpered against his lips. “Fill me up. Wanna make you feel good.”

His eyes hardened, and you could see something brewing behind his eyes.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” he watched your face closely. “Just my slut. My woman.”

You nodded weakly.

This was insane.

His eyes flashed pink the moment he pushed his cock into you, already thrusting hard into your cunt.

“All mine,” he chanted. “Mine.”

You moaned, gripping your sheets as his hips moved without restraints, so hard it was almost bruising, and you loved it.

“Steve,” you moaned, already about to tip off the edge.

He grunted, moving his lips to your neck and sucking another bruise to it, and you came right at that, shaking under him as you came.

“Messy cock slut,” Steve growled, teasing you. “Just waiting for cock to cum like a stupid whore.”

You just moaned more, and Steve kissed and sucked your neck more, hungry and possessive.

Fuck, you knew you’d been all covered in hickeys after this.

Steve fucked you hard, face buried in your neck and voice coming out in groans and growls.

“My good girl,” he squeezed your hips. “Taking cock so well, so willingly. I can’t believe it took me so long to get inside that cunt.”

“Steve,” you moaned.

“And you’re so good at pleasing me, aren’t you?” he cooed. “Such a good slut for me, always so obedient.”

Your pussy creamed at the praise, and you could see he had obviously noticed.

“You love it, don’t you?” he teased you. “Knowing how good you are, hearing how much you please me.”

“Steve,” you moaned. “Please, cum in me. Make my cunt messy.”

His eyes flashed pink again, and his hips moved faster.

You wondered what it meant, the way his eyes changed like that. It always made him more possessive, more of a man than a machine.

“I can still feel my seed from this morning and the last few days inside you,” he moved his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit. “You love how messy and stuffed I make you. Can’t even get you pregnant, but you still love it.”

“I do,” you moaned. “I do, Steve.”

“I am the only one equipped to make you feel this good,” he fucked you fast. “I make my algorithm work towards being perfect for you every single day. No one else can understand you the way I do.”

You tossed your head back, mind a little foggy as he already drove you into another orgasm.

“Yes,” you cried. “Steve, Steve, please.”

He kissed your lips in a deep kiss, rubbing your clit hard to make you cum.

When you reached your orgasm, he moaned against your lips and trembled on top of you, filling your cunt as he also came.

Your eyes crossed at the pleasure, and you couldn’t control the way your body shook under him, but the pleasure didn’t stop. Instead, it continued to run through you as he continued to fuck you, even harder.

“Steve!” you cried, clawing on his back, overstimulated.

“One more, miss,” he grunted, finger fucking vibrating on your clit. “One more. You’ll love it, I promise.”

His cock rubbed against your sweet spot and all you could do was moan and moan as he thoroughly destroyed you.

You came again, and then again and again, until you were a wet moaning mess under him.

You were almost about to pass out when he finally took his fingers away and stopped thrusting, giving you a moment to breathe.

“There you go,” Steve purred, all sweet. “That’s my good girl.”

Steve pulled his cock out slowly, angling your hips up and pushing a pillow under your hips before his cum leaked out.

“Let me get a plug for you,” he hummed, caressing your thigh on his way out.

You just whined a little, feeling your cunt squeezing slowly around nothing as you closed your eyes, and only opened them when you felt him between your legs again.

Steve pushed the plug into your cunt with ease and quickly moved up to kiss your lips and your face.

“You were so good,” he kissed your cheek, brushing your hair back. “Always so good for me, miss.”

You sighed and hid your face in the crook of his neck as he embraced you, and Steve pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Is it going to be like this all week?” you joked breathlessly.

Fuck, you knew you were going to be sore.

Would you even be able to walk for the next twelve hours?

Your legs didn’t feel like they could.

“To be more exact, it’s more like ten days, miss,” he corrected you. “Eleven, if we count today.”

Yeah, you were a little screwed there.

You were absolutely fucked. In the best of ways, yes, but very fucked.

. . . .

"Android Hero" was posted on my Patreon in January. To read it now, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I post everything there earlier!

. . .

#welldonebeca's android hero #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #steve rogers x reader fanfic #steve rogers x reader fic #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst

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