#i need a bouncer!steve in my life

[livingintheupsidedown]

going out tonight and manifesting to meet my new bouncer boyfriend @loveshotzz

[navybrat817]

On the Rocks

Pairing: Bartender!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You're not sure why Ari doesn't seem to like you, but you two have to work together.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Tension, coworkers, bit of grumpy and sunshine, misunderstanding, future smut, Ari Levinson and he's slightly rude at first (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy this intro to my Gin and Bear It AU. @spectre-posts requested bartender!Ari to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #13 in bold. TECHNICALLY not smut, but there will be smut in future parts. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't one to brag, but you were good at your job. You showed up on time and stayed late if necessary. Never dropped a tray or drink. Didn't skip out on cleaning or any other tasks. And not only were you attentive with your customers, you showed just enough skin to keep it professional and never went home with anyone at the end of the night. Your work ethic helped you earn the respect of just about everyone at the establishment.

Except for Ari Levinson.

You eyed the gorgeous bearded man behind the bar, your blood rushing faster through your veins. He didn't spare you a glance. He hardly ever did. Everyone else who worked there got a smile from him. Even a smirk. But you? An unimpressed look was what you got on a good day. You chalked it up to you being a new member of the staff, until the barback who started after you received kinder treatment from him.

To be fair, it wasn't like Ari hated you. He didn't seem to particularly like you either. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Maybe there wasn't a specific reason. Some people just didn't mesh well. It didn't stop you from treating him like every other coworker. The two of you had to work together whether he liked it or not.

“Hey,” you smiled as you stopped at the bar and set your tray down. You waited a second for him to acknowledge you, but he kept drying glasses. “Three Jack and Cokes, please.”

That got Ari's attention. He didn't have to greet you, but you both had a job to do. You waited in silence while he made the drinks. He didn't look at you, but you looked at him.

He was in good shape. Great shape, in fact. With his large and somewhat intimidating size, you were surprised he wasn't a bouncer. He was a good bartender though. He wouldn't have a job there if he wasn't.

It wasn't right how attracted you were to him since he never seemed to give you the time of day.

“Thanks,” you said when he set the drinks on the tray for you.

He grunted and turned to put the bottle back.

“You know, we’ve been working together for almost three months. One of these days you may actually carry on a conversation with me instead of answering me with random sounds,” you teased.

“I'm here to work, not chat,” he said over his shoulder, his deep voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine despite his statement. “You should do the same.”

You sighed when you picked up the tray. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Like always.

“Don't need friends.”

It was a bit of an odd statement. You said friendly, not friends specifically. “Aren't Steve and Bucky your friends?” You asked. They were two of the other bartenders. Best friends and good to the rest of the staff. Protective, too, always quick to jump in if a customer got mouthy or handsy.

Ari’s jaw clenched as he faced you, but you didn't cower. “Yeah, they are.”

You may not have cowered under his gaze, but you sure as hell felt small the longer he looked at you. “But you don't want to be my friend,” you said.

“I don't need more friends,” he said dismissively as your stomach dropped. You wished it didn't hurt to hear that and you had to blink rapidly when you felt a familiar telltale burning in your eyes. “Anything else?”

Plastering a smile back on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, you straightened up. “Noted. We aren't and won't be friends,” you said before you added with more bite than you intended, “And don't worry, Ari. I don't need anything from you.”

He must've noticed the shift in your tone, too, since his jaw clenched harder than before. You walked off before he had a chance to say anything, cursing yourself inwardly at your tone. You shouldn't have let his dismissal get under your skin. Besides, he was right. You were there to work and your customers needed their drinks.

So, why did it bother you so much that Ari didn't want to be your friend? It shouldn't matter. There were lots of people who worked together who never talked or saw each other outside of their jobs. You wished he would've given you a chance, but you’d respect his decision.

For the rest of the night though, you planned to avoid him like the plague.

As your shift went on, you felt Ari’s eyes on you. Instead of looking back at him or giving him a smile like usual, you ignored him or acted like he wasn't there. You didn't stop at his end of the bar, going instead to Steve to get your drinks. For the first time since you started working there, you had Ari's full attention.

And for once, you didn't want it.

By the end of your shift once you wrapped up just about all of your tasks, you were ready to get out of there. “Any plans after closing?” You asked Steve, counting out tips for him.

“I might be seeing someone,” he smiled gently, his gaze flickering to a woman sitting alone at a table.

You raised an eyebrow. Patrons hit on the guys all the time, but it was rare for them to take anyone home. “Well, I hope you have a good time,” you said before nodding over to Bucky who was sitting at the bar, too. “Isn't it your night off?”

Bucky smiled softly. “It is, but my girl should be here in a few minutes. We won't stay long.” His girl has gone through some heartbreak before she rolled into town and the brunette quickly became her knight in shining armor.

“You have fun, too,” you said, sliding off the stool with a sigh.

Steve’s brows pinched. “You okay?”

“I will be,” you said, not wanting to lie to him and pretend you were fine. You also didn't want to get into what was going on. Feeling sorry for yourself didn't do you any good and everything would be okay tomorrow.

“You sure?” Steve swung his head toward Ari. “You think I didn't notice that you haven't been back to that end of the bar?”

You glanced in that direction, inhaling sharply as you met Ari’s gaze. He crossed his as he stared you down, tension as thick as fog. All you could see were the blue of his eyes and you had to look away so you didn't lose yourself.

“Just an off night. Nothing to worry about,” you said, pushing over Steve’s cut. “And I’m out for the night unless you need anything else.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. “Need one of us to walk you out?” Bucky offered.

“No, I’m good,” you said, sighing again when you realized you’d have to pass by Ari to leave. You also had to give him his tips. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”

Ari stood in the same spot as you walked toward him, your heart beating erratically. One day he may not make your heart race like that. “Night,” you smiled sadly, setting his tips down on the bar and walking on.

You grabbed your bag from the backroom and headed out for the evening with your keys in hand, shivering at the slight chill in the air. It wasn't until you were about halfway to your car that you heard footsteps behind you, making you tense up. Maybe you should've had someone walk you out.

“Hey.” It was Ari. “Wait up.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a quizzical look. “Why? Do you need something?”

Ari looked up at the night sky and ran a hand through his long hair, but didn't reply. You were two seconds away from walking to your car when you heard above a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You asked when he met your eye. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“I was an asshole to you earlier,” he replied, surprising you as he took a step forward. “Been kind of an asshole to you since day one when you've been nothing but friendly.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said. Why did it matter now?

A stricken look crossed his features before he put up his mask again. “Why were you so nice to me then when I was an asshole to you?”

You shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal. “Because I had no reason to be rude to you, Ari,” you replied. It was that simple. “I was upset earlier though and I did avoid your side of the bar, but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“But-”

“You don't have to like me. You really don't,” you told him, the words bittersweet. “But we do have to work together. So as long as we’re civil to each other, it’s fine.”

You fought the urge to step back when Ari took another step forward. There was usually a bar between the two of you when you stood near him. Up close with nothing between you showed just how large he was. And he smelled good, too, because of course he did. “I never said I didn't like you.”

“Maybe not with words, but your actions kind of said it for you. Seriously, there’s an obvious difference in your demeanor with me versus everyone else,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his blue eyes full of regret. At least he acknowledged that.

“Not to mention, you just said tonight that you didn't need more friends. Between that and your attitude, the natural assumption is that you don't like me,” you said. What else were you meant to think?

He nodded. “I can see why you’d think that, but I'm sorry.”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment. You weren't exactly sure what to say. “Okay, well. Apology accepted, I guess. Good night.”

“Wait,” he said when you began to turn away. “Do you really wanna know what I thought about you when you started working here?”

The skeptical look was back on your face. “I’ll admit I'm curious, but I won't just stand here if you’ll continue to be an asshole to me.”

He chuckled. Did you actually make him laugh? “I wouldn't expect you to,” he said, taking a breath. “This might get me fired if you complain.”

“Just say it, please,” you half begged. “Whatever it is, it can't be-”

“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you ‘til you screamed my name.”

You sputtered, an embarrassing sort of sound. It wasn't what you expected to hear. Ari Levinson wanted to fuck you? Since the moment you met?

“You what?” You asked, wanting to hear him say it again.

“I want you and I’ve imagined fucking you all over the bar every day since you started working here. The tables, the booths, the office, against the wall, even in the bathroom stalls,” he spoke, his voice deep and confident as you tried not to whimper. How were you already wet? “But not just that.”

You bit your lip. “What else?”

His gaze softened. “I think about your smile. You have such a beautiful smile.” You did whimper this time. Since when was praise so important? “And how you giggle at bad jokes. And how you sway your hips to the songs you like. And how you're just so fucking kind, even to those who don't deserve it.”

“You like me?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You held up a hand, your head spinning from his confession. “Wait. Hold on,” you said, trying to get your bearings and not throw yourself into his arms. You needed to have some self respect. “You’ve been an asshole to me because you like me?”

Why do men do dumb things?

Ari winced. “Not my smartest plan, I’ll admit, but I thought pushing you away before anything happened was the best move.”

“Why though? Why push me away?” You asked.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don't like to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.” It wasn't a secret that Ari was single, but there was a story there. “But that doesn't excuse being cold toward you. And if you’re willing, I’d like to start over.”

You searched his gaze for sincerity and found it. “So would I.”

His expression softened more, relieved. The fact that he wanted to try gave you hope for things moving forward. “And maybe we can grab a coffee at the diner? Just talk?”

Your eyes rounded. Was Ari asking you out? “When? Now?” You asked.

He smiled. “If you’re free.”

You smiled back and shook your head. “Nope. Sorry, Ari.”

Ari's smile fell immediately. “No?” He repeated the word in disbelief. You were in disbelief yourself. “No you aren't free or no you don't want to hang out with me?”

“Any other day, I’d love to have a coffee with you and talk or for you to make good on that promise of bending me over the bar and making me scream your name. But tonight?” You batted your eyes for good measure. “No, I don't.”

“Oh.” Ari blinked and cleared his throat. “I guess that makes sense after how I acted.”

“It makes perfect sense. A quick apology doesn't get you off scott free for how you treated me,” you told him, taking a step closer yourself this time. “So change my mind.”

“Change your mind?”

“Yeah. Let's start over like you suggested and you find a way to change my mind. I'm not saying you have to be overly friendly during our shifts, but treat me a little better. Show me why I should give you a chance and ask me again later,” you answered, gliding your fingers along his forearm once you were close enough. “And I'll still be nice to you. I promise.”

“So, you want me to woo you?” He smirked after a moment, one that nearly made your panties melt. “I can do that.”

You giggled. “I think I deserve it.”

“You do. And my first step in mending things,” he said, offering his arm as he stepped back. “How about I walk you to your car?”

“You may,” you smiled, linking your arm with his. You felt him flex a bit and you almost giggled again, a spring in your step as you walked. One day you’d feel him pin you down with that strength. You’d be patient though.

After all, he promised to woo you first.

How do we think he'll make it up to you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bangaveragewhitewine]

I'm yours, all yours

Eddie Munson x Reader (bouncer x bartender, established relationship) 

October 1991

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since.

An autumn afternoon together shows you a little bit more of the man you’re falling in love with.

Word Count: 6.2K

Content / Warnings: Contains the main food groups - fluff, smut & hurt+comfort. Reader has some self doubt / anxious thoughts. This is 18+ - if you are not 18+ hit the back button and read something else. Oral (m receiving, minor f receiving), p-in-v sex. Feeeeelings. Eddie & Reader are mid twenties. Reader written as AFAB using fem pronouns.

This is best enjoyed after reading their origin story crazy-mad for you (part of the Happy Hours series)

Author’s note: I’m planning to follow CMFY with some one-shots from throughout Eddie & Bartender’s relationship. I have some loose ideas but this one came from a deleted scene I couldn’t squeeze into the main fic so reworked it! Beta’ed by @specialagentmonkey (theee best)  Thank you for the love on CMFY! Reading your replies and reblogs and tags made my shitty wee brighter. Hope you enjoy this cosy peek and have a gorgeous day 🖤

It’s been over two months since you kissed Eddie Munson in the back alley of the dive bar you both work in. You had barely stopped kissing him ever since. Every moment your lips aren’t on each other is like a thousand paper-cuts to Eddie’s heart (so soft inside the facade of Mean Metalhead he has curated for himself). He makes you want to write his name next to yours in pink gel pen, framed with sparkly little hearts. 

Two months and counting with Eddie and you learn something new about him every day; he loves tattoos but needles make his stomach twist, he meets his friend Steve once a month for a dude-date breakfast (but sees as much as he can of him and his other friends when their schedules line up), he sings with his band but needs at least five drinks before karaoke.

When you ask questions, when you're curious, he tells his long and meandering stories with wandering tangents which tell you so much about the man you’re falling in love with. He opens up to you, tells you things very few people know - about his mom, how he ended up with his Uncle Wayne. It hasn’t been long, but you already can’t wait to meet him.

Two whole months (closer to three really) and you’re sure you don’t want to ever have a single day without Eddie in your life, and your bed. And yet you still haven’t asked the question that has been on your mind since before you two ever got together. 

It’s October now; Autumn is here and the city has turned chilly. Sweltering summer nights are no longer and you and Eddie have been spending afternoons and late nights when you’re not working watching your favourite horror films. When he had told you how much he loved Halloween - just as much as you, if not a wee bit more - you knew Eddie Munson was the one. 

It’s Friday, late afternoon and you had reluctantly spent the night in your own apartment. The shame radiating from the mountain of laundry in the corner of your room had become too powerful to ignore and so you had forgone a night of being held and loved-on to tackle it and the other life-admin you had been ignoring. Eddie had suggested staying at your place, but you knew he would distract you too much with his kisses and touches (which he doled out generously whenever you were near). 

You had missed your boyfriend terribly, almost like a missing limb or a gorgeous big parasite (affectionate) that you had grown more than fond of. Eddie had the night off work but still drove you to and from the bar, even stayed for a drink until Frank shooed him away for trying to distract you. You had missed him so much that you had kept him on the phone to talk a little longer when he got home before saying goodnight and promising you would see him before your shift together tomorrow. You had spent nights apart before, days and nights when you or Eddie had clashing schedules but you felt his absence more than ever today. 

Your laundry and errands had never been completed with such efficiency as when you had the motivation of seeing Eddie as soon as they were ticked off your to-do list. 

You arrived at his door and buzzed the intercom for his apartment, laden down with an overnight bag (over-weekend really) and Tupperware containers full of homemade soup and lasagna for before your shift at Jackie’s. Your cheeks are warm and you can feel heat prickling under your arms alongside the swelling of anticipation in your chest. Eddie buzzes you in and comes to meet you, a big grin on his face for his girl.

His hair is up in a messy bun, held in place by a black velvet scrunchie you insisted was his now. He looks cosy in sweats, a tank top and his red and black flannel which you know to be softer than soft. Eddie hadn’t even bothered with shoes, braving the stairs in his socks so that he could see you sooner. You match his smile when you catch sight of him; cosy Eddie is far from the leather-jacketed bouncer you had got to know.

When he sees how many bags you’re carrying, he rushes to lighten your load (doesn’t even skid on the tiles). 

“You walked here with all that?! I could’a picked you up!” he said, shouldering your overnight bag before blessing you with a kiss. 

“It’s like two blocks, not a marathon.” You roll your eyes at him but pout for another kiss anyway as he rings for the elevator. 

Eddie will never refuse you a kiss. He pecks little smooches to your smile as it grows wider. “I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too.” You nudge his cheek with your nose, pecking at it like a little bird as the lift arrives; you step in ahead of him, pressing the button for the third floor with your now free hand. 

He asks if you slept okay (not as well without him, but you don’t say that) and tells you about the bag of free bagels he scored as a thank you from the man who ran the deli a few doors down. The guy’s hand-truck had lost a wheel while he was taking in a delivery that morning and Eddie helped him out, fixed the wheel too. He knew how much you loved the bagels from there and it felt fateful that his reward was a bag of your favourite everything bagels.

“Neighbourhood hero,” you sing, following him into his one-bedroom flat. “Is there anything you can’t do?” 

“Trigonometry. French. Um… skateboarding!” he lists, as he drops your bag inside his bedroom door. “I fucking suck at skateboarding.”

The thought of Eddie on a skateboard makes you smile - definitely a little meanly, what a dork - but you store that one for later. 

The bag of Tupperware barely makes it to the kitchen counter before Eddie’s arms are around you,  pulling you back against his chest. His nose presses into the base of your neck, huffing hot breaths against your sweet-smelling skin before kissing up his well-worn path. 

“I really missed you,” he murmurs, hips nudging forward against your jean-clad behind for emphasis. 

“Missed me or missed getting your dick sucked?” you ask, turning your head to look at him. 

“Both. Mainly you.” His grin is impish as you turn to loop your arms around his neck, backed right up to the wiped-clean Formica. You let him lift you onto the counter so that he can stand between your spread knees. 

“I missed you and your dick, so we’re even. And we have the whole weekend together to get reacquainted, huh?” You twist a loose curl around your finger, tugging to watch it spring and coil.

Eddie feels like a swooning maiden when he’s the centre of your attention like this, being flirted with. He loves it and he knows he’s in love with you. He had fallen first, long before you had even realised your banter at work was more than just that. 

His fingers creep up your thighs, the silver glinting at you as you place your focus on making up for a night apart as you make out in his little kitchen. 

Eddie smells shower-fresh, clean with a hint of spice, and the curls at the base of his neck are still a little damp. He shivers, giggling against your mouth when you run your finger down his spine. “Your nails are tickly,” he says with a pretend scowl. 

You know he loves your nails on his back; when they’re digging in like claws to leave him littered with red scratches, and when they’re tickling up and down in soothing strokes as he’s falling asleep. 

He takes your hand and brings it around to see the fresh coat of deep red on your nails. “You painted them!” he says, his nose scrunches cutely when you poke it. 

“I did. The black was getting chipped and gross.” You brought the black polish anyway in case he wanted to try it out again, thrown somewhere in your make-up bag. 

Eddie rests his chin on your chest; your breasts have become his favourite place to lay his head, closely followed by the squishy pillow of your thigh (there’s a third-place tie between your tummy and your butt). You dot kisses to his forehead beneath the shaggy bangs, trailing up into his hair when he presses his face against your soft sweater.

“Eddie?”  “Hmm.” His voice is muffled.  “You hungry?”

His head turns so you can hear him more clearly, “Hungry for you.” 

Hopeful mischief twinkles in his hot-chocolate eyes when he peers up at you. 

“Horndog.” “Yes?”  “Gross boy.” “Unh, yes. Say more dirty things to me, baby.”

He has a look of hammed-up ecstasy on his face, scrunched brow and bitten lip. Even though you know he’s pretending, it makes the horny cavewoman part of your brain think about his face when he is actually deep inside you or desperate for your touch - it makes your tummy feel like lava. One night apart makes you realise just how bad you’ve got it for him. You shove at his head and Eddie leans back with a throaty giggle before squeezing your hips again. 

To balance out your playful push and satiate the need building in your gut, you pull him in for a kiss - open-mouthed with the dirty slide of tongue that sounds loud in your ears. Your legs wrap around him, arms tighten. 

“Carry me?” “Bed?” “Sofa, bed. Wherever.”  “Potato, tomato.” “Eddie.” 

He sweeps you off the counter - you’re still surprised and impressed at his strength until you remember him lifting the barrels and kegs at work. You reward him with distracting kisses as he carries you to the soft brown couch and smile up at him when he lays you down gently. He forgets about gentle as he removes his shirt and pounces on you, resuming your dirty kisses from the kitchen. 

Merlot-red nails push the hem of Eddie’s tank top up his pale back, slipping beneath to pull him tighter to you between your thighs. You can already feel him growing hard; you nip at his lower lip and kiss away the sting. 

“Sit up for a sec.” You tap his side but Eddie needs to kiss you just a little bit more before he can pull himself away. 

“Where you goin’?” he asks, a little breathless. Blown-black pupils eat up the brown warmth with his voracious want; he watches as you sit up on your knees and pull your cosy sweater off, then the white vest beneath, leaving you in your creamy silk bra and blue jeans. 

“Pretty,” Eddie whispers, his fingers brushing the little bow between your breasts. He was in awe of your little collection of bras, the matching underwear too. He even loved you in the cotton comfy pants that hugged just right when your cramps ached. 

“Sit back against that end. And take your pants off, handsome.” You smile when he stares at you, “Do you need help?” 

Eddie barely shakes his head as he wriggles out of his sweatpants and sits where you told him to. You balance each other out, taking turns to take the lead. You’re still learning, and despite Eddie’s non-academic tendencies, he’s studious and dedicated to learning what you like, where and how to touch you. You’re his favourite subject and he’s yours too.

You smile and knee-walk across the chasm between you, situating yourself between his legs to take his face in your hands and kiss him. He makes a small joyful noise when you begin to kiss down to his jaw and nuzzle at the dusting of stubble. 

“Smell good,” you murmur, teasing delicate skin with your teeth before bestowing him sucking a wet kiss, enough to leave just a hint of a bruise there. It makes Eddie groan quietly, a desperate little noise at the back of his throat. He’s louder when you slip your fingers down his chest and into the waistband of his black boxers - they have little skulls on them. 

“Cute,” you run your thumb over the elastic at the top as your knuckles brush his cock. Almost an echo of Eddie’s assessment of your bra moments ago. 

Hips push up, almost like an electric shock. There’s a tiny noise that you just about hear, deep back in his throat, a quiet grunt as Eddie covers your hand and shows you what he needs. His pretty lashes flutter as you look at each other, sparking fire in your gut again. You smile and move your hand away, halting his protest by pulling the black cotton down his thighs to drop them on the floor. 

You can feel saliva pooling under your tongue when you see him - you really did miss him, all of him, while you were apart. He’s thick and a few centimetres over average length; a nice dick (rare and wonderful) and he knows what to do with it to leave you brainless and whimpering. Eddie gets one more kiss before you make yourself comfy, lying on your tummy between his legs. Little kisses are peppered on his hairy thighs, over the black and shadow of ink, before you take him in your hand, then your mouth. 

Eddie is in awe of how pretty you look like this, how your lashes kiss your cheekbones and the stretch of your lips (he goes a little crazy if you’re wearing lipstick too, really gets him going). His breath comes hard through his nose as you tongue the head of him, press against the thick vein before taking as much as you can into your mouth. 

“Shit,” he growls, feeling your nails on his thigh as you begin to bob your head steadily. His hips and thighs tense and spread a little wider, needy, as he keeps himself in check. Your other hand holds the base of him, what you haven’t yet tried to fit into that pretty mouth. 

“Look at my girl, so gorgeous,” he murmurs, smiling when your lashes flutter. His girl. “So pretty.” 

You hum affirmative, taking more in when his head tips back to show off his pale throat and the little mark you left behind. His jaw tenses, twitches and you begin the slow bob of your head again. You look up past your lashes, watching his brow crease when you take him all the way. 

“Shit shit shit,” his voice is a breathy growl that bleeds into a louder moan when he sees you looking up at him - his devil woman. “You’re going to kill me someday with that mouth, huh?” he says. The shake in his voice betrays him as he tries to act a little smooth, a little more together as you’re taking him apart. 

You bob your head, imitating a nod, and bring your hand down to squeeze and roll his neglected balls for good measure. That makes him howl and he covers his face with his arm while you let that playful hand take over so you can catch your breath. 

“Y’okay?” you ask, resting your cheek against his thigh as you move your hand a little faster. 

“Mhmm, peachy,” he replies, eyes a little wild. You love the pink blush on his usually pale cheeks, love knowing that he’s like this because of you. 

Eddie strokes your cheek as you take the head of him back between your lips, a tender little caress of his thumb that makes you close your eyes and lean in. You feel hot and slick between your legs, push your hips to the sofa cushion just a little to temper the ache. 

He catches the little motion and his jaw drops a little - it clears his head just a little, zeroing in on you through his haze of arousal. “Oh my girl feelin’ needy too?” he asks, thumb pushing gently against your cheek.

You move your mouth off of him and nod, turning your head to kiss his palm. “Told’ju I missed you.” 

Eddie’s grin can’t be contained. “C’mere then.” His hands run over your back, coaxing you into his lap. 

Once you have rid yourself of your jeans and underwear you take up your throne on Eddie’s thighs. Your appetite for each other meant that he had started storing condoms in practically every room - there's a fresh box on the coffee table, bought that morning after he saw how low the reserves were. 

Your arms wind around his neck, pressing yourself against Eddie as he kisses you again. Fingers drift between your legs, feeling just how slick you are for him - a combination of missing him and seeing the effect of your mouth on his face. You feel his smile against your mouth as you seek a deeper dirtier kiss, sucking that plump lower lip between your own. 

One guitar-string scarred finger is joined by a second, rubbing slow firm circles that make you moan into his mouth. They press inside and his thumb takes up that slow wet rub, pulling more little needy noises from your lips as you take him back into your hand.

Hands and wrists cramp easily at this angle and you take a moment to pull back, biting your kiss-bruised lip before turning around on your hands and knees to present yourself to Eddie. Peeking over your shoulder with a cheeky smile, you see how his eyes blaze before grabbing for the box of Durex. You hide your grin against your arm when you hear him swearing at the plastic wrapping, calling the box ‘a fuckin’ shitbag’ when his nails struggled for purchase against it. There’s a tiny ‘yes!’ when he finally breaks in and you laugh quietly at you listen to the familiar tear-open of foil. 

On his knees, he bends to kiss the rounds of your ass, then dips lower to taste you just once. “Fuckin’ so sweet,” he murmurs, wishing he had the willpower to not follow his dick that afternoon and dive into you instead - but there’s always later. 

You gasp-giggle at the feeling of his tongue and rock back when you see him line himself up. “Please?” Your lips push into a playful pout, “Show me how much you missed me?” You love winding him up like this.

One side of his mouth curves up as he holds your hip, rubs the head against you to play you at your own game before pushing all the way in. Your jaw drops open, feeling full as Eddie rocks his hips minutely. You can feel him pushed right up against you inside and out, his thighs against the back of yours before he begins a deep dragging thrust.

“Shit, you feel good,” he murmurs, stroking your hip lovingly. “That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You nod, hating that you can’t see him despite how good this angle is for you both. “Eddie,” you whimper, feeling yourself flutter around him.

“Yeah, that’s who’s making you feel good, sweet thing. I’ve got you.” He squeezes your hip, the silver of his rings biting into the doughy softness as he watches his length disappear inside you over and over as he begins to get quicker and harder with his thrusts. 

Your eyes nearly roll back as he pounds into you, fingers gripping the arm of the couch - it’s about the only thing keeping you up as Eddie fucks you and runs his mouth. It feels so good you can barely speak. 

“That’s my girl. Going all cock-dumb on me?” he asks, squeezing the meat of your ass a little harder, watching it jiggle and bounce with his thrusts. “I’ll make you feel good like this every day if you let me. S’what you deserve, getting fucked like you need, huh?” 

Your answering moan is spurred on not only by his words but the graze of his length on your g-spot. “Eddie, god! Yes, right there,” your voice is a babble, the words running into each other ‘yesrigh’there’ as it becomes the only thing you can say. 

The pulsing gush around him, hot wet heat, makes Eddie moan with you. “I know, baby. I know.” His back teeth press together as he holds on, the cord of pleasure pulled tight in his pelvis. The slapping pounding sound fills the room but he can only hear you, almost crying with pleasure. 

“Close,” you murmur, slumped forward a little more. The angle arches your back, pulls Eddie deeper. Your groan is shaky, broken with want. 

“Me too, baby. Got me so wound up,” he murmurs. “Can you touch yourself for me?” He watches your hand move back between your legs, feels the graze of your fingers as you bring yourself closer, small tight circles that sync up with his punishingly good pace. 

“Fuck! Eddie,” you whimper, feeling the inferno in your belly burn bright and hot as you see stars, tears springing as you come hard. 

“Shit shit, that’s my girl. Oh yeah, fuck,” he grinds out,  continuing his thrusts as your body shakes with pleasure. Eddie folds over you, wrapping his arms around you to bring you back into his lap like a rag doll. He can’t bear to not be as close to you as humanly possible as he nears his own orgasm, mouth pressed to your neck to kiss and pant against it as he hammers into you. 

His fingers trail down, finding a quick rhythm that brings you to a shock of a second climax, shorter but no less intense than the first. You feel boneless, yet manage to pull his hand away when it becomes too much, holding his arm around your middle as the other curls up and loops around his neck. Your lips find their way to Eddie’s jaw, pressing wet kisses there. Your eyes are heavy, and yet you see the moment he falls apart. 

His eyes close, face creasing in beautiful blissful agony as he comes holding you in his lap, your name on his tongue. 

Your chest feels heavy, breath synced up as your fingers stroke up against his scalp, past the flyaways. He kisses you messily, so slow and without the same hurry he had mere moments ago. 

Your noses brush against each other’s warm cheeks, lazy smiles pressing kisses as hands smooth and caress wherever is in reach. You feel fuzzy around the edges, warm all over with Eddie plastered to your back. You would both gladly overheat to stay like this a bit longer. Eddie’s lean arms are the only thing holding you together right now, grounded syrupy-sweet kisses that bond the broken bits back into place. 

“Wanna see my girl,” he murmurs after a few moments mouthing at your shoulder, “Easy, babe.” Eddie’s hands on your waist help you to move from his lap, unsheathing him from your body. He wraps the condom in a tissue before lying back, inviting you into his arms with grabby hands.

You bring the blanket from the back of the sofa with you when you lie against his chest, sharing love-drunk kisses as you bask in the glow of each other. 

It’s bright-cold outside the steamed-up windows; the afternoon sun lights the room. His neighbours will surely hate you, but when Eddie strokes his tongue against yours you forget to care.

You brush his sweaty bangs away and press a kiss to the centre of his forehead before resting your head against his chest, tucked under his chin as his hand finds yours. He kisses your knuckles and smiles down at you. 

“Y’okay?” he checks, rosy-cheeked bright-eyed and deliriously happy. Sometimes he feels the need to pinch himself when he realises the woman he had been pining for is now his girlfriend. One time you had been lying together smoking and watching a rerun of Twin Peaks and he had actually asked you to pinch him - his nipple had ached for the rest of the night but at least he knew it was all real. And you had kissed it better. 

Now you smile lazily up at him, real and cosy in his arms. “Never better,” you promise. Your nose scrunches when he kisses it and calls you his little bunny to make you laugh. 

Eddie lights a cigarette and holds it to your lips when you’re too comfy to move. It brings you both back to the real world, back from the plain of absolute bliss. It’s quiet, neither feeling the need to fill the comfortable silence until your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“Where’d you get them?” you ask, lifting your joined hands to finally speak the question you have been meaning to ask. Your fingers slot between Eddie’s, palm to palm, as you admire the silver.

“Been kinda building a little collection since school. Thrift shops mainly.” Eddie shrugs one shoulder; he’s careful not to jostle you too much as you lie against his chest. He pauses to catch a fallen eyelash on your cheek, holding it out to you to blow away. You smile a little and lift your head to wish for a thousand more afternoons like this. 

“I have two nice ones; my friends pooled together for a graduation present for me, and the other one, this one,” Eddie shows you his right middle finger, a harmless flip-off to show you the black enamel heart with wings that he always wears. It’s smaller, less outrightly demonic than the others. The rest of his rings are swapped out, usually a lucky dip into a little dish on his bedside table, but this one stays on. “Bought this one for myself when the band went on tour. Something to remember, y’know?” 

You had heard about Corroded Coffin’s big opportunity last year, playing a few dates as an opening act for a bigger metal band. Your thumb runs over the warm metal as he begins to speak again.

“It was the last day of tour and I was so fuckin’ tired. We were kinda convinced that we were going to be discovered or something, and the crowds really liked us but… it didn’t happen how we had planned.”  

You expect to hear sadness in his voice but there is none. Maybe a hint of resignation that their dream hadn’t become reality.

“Me and Gareth had a fight on the last morning, both of us were hungover as fuck and antsy because it was all going to be over in a few hours. So I stormed off to get breakfast and clear my head, or get more fucked up.” Eddie’s little smile doesn’t meet his eyes; they look a little bit more glossy than usual. “It was my Mom’s birthday and I felt like shit. I would say I found this little jeweller-silversmith place but I think it found me.”

You squeeze Eddie tighter, feeling like he’s letting you see a whole new part of him. A beautiful little sentimental part that houses and holds dear the other woman he loved and the little boy he was when he lost her.

“It was way more money than I should have spent on something so small, but it felt right I couldn’t leave it behind y’know? I went in and it was right there.” His eyes sparkle as he remembers that feeling of all-over calm he felt that day in the little shop. “Went back and apologised to Gare and we played the last show, definitely our best one.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his mouth, “That’s a sweet story, Ed. Thank you for telling me.” Your voice is a whisper against his pillowy lips; you kiss those lips again and feel the silver against your cheek as Eddie kisses you back. Your chest feels like it could burst and there’s an annoying pressure at the back of your eyes. 

“You’re gonna laugh at me but..” Eddie rolls his eyes and leans his head back against the arm of the sofa. He figures out his words before speaking again. “It’s like, everything happened for a reason - we didn’t get a big break but we’re all happy. Gareth got into art school, Jeff moved out of his Mom’s place and… I met you.”

Silence. 

His honesty winds you, it hits you so hard in the chest that you can barely fathom the flurry of feelings like wings battering your chest from the inside. Your lower lip wobbles. Eddie is dead serious too; you know he’s not saying it to be playful. He has so much love in his battered heart and it oozes from him.

Eddie was expecting you to scoff or roll your eyes, call him ‘soft boy’ or something. Maybe a very small part of him thought you might brush him off (he didn’t let himself dwell on that bit). He certainly wasn’t expecting the teary look in your eyes. 

“Shit, baby.” He thumbs your cheek and pouts back at you, pressing the sweetest kiss to your lips; so sweet and slow like the maple syrup you have been adding to your coffees now that it’s Fall. “I mean it. If things went differently, if I didn’t come back, I wouldn’t have met the sexy new bartender, huh?”

You smile, laugh a little wetly and try to blame the post-sex rush for being weepy. “I guess I’m a little bit glad you came back to be annoying. Super selfish of me.” 

You can’t help but think that there might be some parallel universe where you’re still shaking cocktails in Jackie’s but Eddie’s on stage opening for Metallica, Corroded Coffin at the top of the charts. With that thought comes a deep-sinking feeling that maybe someday you might not be enough and he will want that rockstar life; groupies, supermodels, a pretty blonde actress on his arm.... Not you. 

Eddie kisses you again and pulls you close, cocooning the pair of you in the blanket. You find his hand to kiss the black enamel heart before resting your head, cheek to chest. 

You have never felt so in love, nor have you felt so scared. Eddie feels lighter now that he has said out loud the thought about fate that has been rattling around his skull for too long. He feels your arms wrapping tighter around him, like he might disappear. 

He presses his smiling lips fiercely to the crown of your head. “What’s goin’ on in here, huh? I can hear that big brain thinkin’ up a storm.” He thinks over everything he said; was he coming on too strong?

“I just really really like you, Ed,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. Telling him that felt so easy; maybe if you weren’t being sucked into an internal doom spiral you could play it up and roll your eyes, pretend it was icky to like him.

“Yeah? I really really like you too.” Your admission makes his heart sing; Eddie tries to temper his smile but can’t. He won’t pretend he’s not head over heels for you, he’d give you a vital organ if you needed it - hell, his heart was already yours. 

He cups your cheek again, coaxing you to look at him. “What else? You’re like… a scared little bunny right now.” He concentrates all his love into how he’s holding you as if it could be transferred like magic from his fingertips. 

“I just...” 

He doesn’t force you to go on when you hide your face in his chest, feeling so stupid for being emotional. Your eyes burn, and he wishes he could be whatever you need right now. He’s not used to seeing his bossy flirty girl so unsure of herself; it makes him love you a little more. He looks up at the ceiling and squeezes your body gently.

“Hey. You don’t have to say anything, just listen okay? I’m serious about you, about... Everything I feel for you.” His voice shakes minutely but he takes a moment, stroking your back to centre himself. “I’m not going to up and leave someday to be a rockstar without you. I need you. Okay? You’re my girl. Best thing that’s happened to me in so so long.” Eddie presses a fiercely loving kiss to your head. “I’m yours, all yours.” 

A tiny shaky sob escapes your throat, leaving you embarrassed. “I’m your girl,” you nod, looking up to see Eddie’s sentimental smile, his wet brown eyes. Your voice is thin and wobbly, like a broken pencil. “I’m so fuckin’ happy with you, Eddie.” 

Neither of you says it, but ‘I love you’ is woven into your confessions, binding you together as you share that moment on Eddie’s squishy, comfy sofa. 

You tilt your head to exchange teary-wet kisses, wobbly smiles on your lips as you begin to feel calmer.

“My baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t bottle shit up, okay? Doesn’t help.” He cups your face, wiping the last stray tears from your cheeks and presses kisses there as a balm. 

“I know. I feel stupid for getting upset, it’s like so early for us..” You look down at his chest, trace the black ink you can reach before looking at his pretty face. You know it’s so early, so why get ahead of yourself when Eddie’s already made you a promise? You take a breath, close your eyes and focus on what you really want, “When can I come to see Corroded Coffin play?” 

Eddie grins, laughs a little throaty. They had taken a little break after tour, played a few bars in the Spring to make sure they didn’t rust up. With Gareth settled back in college, they were ready to get back into it. 

“We’re trying to get a gig for the end of the month. Andy knows a guy putting on a night close to Halloween. Jeff’s the organised one though, I’ll check with him tonight.” He kisses your head and smiles. “I gotta get you a shirt, huh?”

“Mhm, yes please. I heard the lead singer is so hot,” you say, smiling a little when he makes a happy noise deep in his throat. “Might throw my bra on stage if he’s as good as they say…” The thought of seeing your man on stage - your man - makes your tummy flutter. 

“Yeah? Shit, lucky guy.”  

You look up at Eddie and move yourself to rest your forehead against his. “The luckiest. I’m the luckiest girl though.” You mean it too, sealing it with a kiss. 

Eddie cups the back of your head, pressing the loveliest kisses to your mouth. “Lucky fuckers,” he murmurs. You trade kisses back and forth, chasing lazy happy smiles for ‘just one more?’ until you need to move.

“Can I shower? Feel sweaty.” Your time together before work is already ticking away, though you’ve made excellent use of it so far. 

“Can I come watch? I mean wash your back?” he asks, walking his fingers down your spine with a coy little smile. 

“You just want to see soapy boobs,” you tut, looping your arms around his neck as he sits up, taking you with him. 

“What guy doesn’t want to see soapy boobs?” he asks, incredulous at the thought. 

You kiss the corner of his mouth, humming in agreement, “You still got that disposable camera?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide - you half expect his heart to beat out of his chest, eyes on stalks like a babbling cartoon. “Yes ma’am.” 

He dumps you off his lap onto the sofa to root for the camera in his room. The sound of his sweary search carry down the hall as you laugh up at the ceiling.

You love him. You absolutely love Eddie Munson. He’s very easy to love. 

Later, when you’re showered clean (a process which required getting just a little bit dirty again with Eddie worshipping you on his knees in the shower) and full-bellied after the dinner you had brought, you and Eddie get ready for work side-by-side in his room. 

You’re putting mascara on in his mirror, humming to Queen despite Eddie’s protests, when you hear him call your name. 

“Mhm?” 

Eddie’s dressed in a black Henley and some jeans - his leather boots and jacket to go on next. You see the glint of silver around his neck as he nods for you to join him on the bed. 

“Help me pick what rings to wear?” he asks, voice soft and tentative. 

Your heart skips and you nod, crossing the gap to perch on his lap as you pick three more for him to wear - an upside-down cross, a very mean-looking skull, a silver signet ring with ‘EM’ engraved (the gift from his friends for graduation). 

He lets you choose where they go and watches as you slip them onto his long fingers. “Perfect,” he murmurs, linking your hands together. 

“Pretty damn perfect,” you agree, kissing the back of his hand so he will show you that bright and beaming grin. 

You love him, you love him, you love him. And Eddie? He already can’t wait to put a ring on your finger. 

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️ 

[stonylovessteve]

2024 Creator Reveals

We’ve reached the end of the exchange and that means it’s time to reveal the creators of all our works.

Thank you for putting so much love and effort into Stony Loves Steve 2024, you really made it a great experience. We hope everyone loved it as much as we did!

Giftees, be sure to leave a comment and kudos on your gift if you haven’t already. All our creators worked hard to make this event a success, so show them some love.

You can now post your work publicly outside of the exchange. Tag it as #stonylovessteve2024 on tumblr and we’ll reblog you. @ us @stonylovessteve on twitter and we’ll retweet you.

Below the cut is the final list of all the works produced for the exchange and the creators.

Still Halfway Human, Just Going Through It by Becci_chan for soliloquent (MCU, 9.9k Words)

Stark Industries was still an incredible place to work. Everyone seemed so dedicated and smart and ambitious, it truly reminded him of Howard and his vision for the future. Steve had even seen Tony Stark a few times in passing or when he made his rounds and talked to Steve’s superior in the office, but he hadn’t talked to him more than a greeting in passing. He wasn’t even sure Tony, who insisted on being called by his first name, had actually noticed him during these times. Steve had noticed him all the more.

Give me the luxuries of life by BladeoftheNebula for Thahire (MCU, 4.9k Words)

Four times Steve reluctantly dabbles in a little luxury + one time he leans into it wholeheartedly

Hot Bouncer by Infinitywrites for Becci_chan (MCU, 2.7k Words)

‘Hey Steve, We had a very interesting last night. Love to stay and elaborate on that but have to take my playful pet baby – Toothless  for a run. Left some hangover cure you might need. Feel free to use the shower or anything else you need. Be back soon. T.S”

The Long Game by betheflame for waywardmillennial (MCU, 2.6k Words)

Steve prided himself on being a patient man, he really did. He had stared down Nazis, and HYDRA officers, and the British Press on that one horrible media tour. He could spend hours plotting strategies for situations which may never happen but might, and he had been known to accompany Pepper on her stress-relief shopping trips. Steve could hold his tongue. Steve could outmaneuver his opponent. Steve could play the long game. That last donut broke all of that.

not a lot, just forever by Thahire for AirlocksandAviaries (MCU, 2.7k Words)

A few months after the Battle of New York, Tony invites Steve over to see the apartment he has built for him. Steve, of course, is totally normal about this and not panicking at all.

give me your number (i’ll give you mine) by ishipallthings for BladeoftheNebula (MCU, 1.2k Words)

Somehow, Tony freaking Stark showing up at the store isn’t Clint’s biggest shock of the day.

Cap’s Comics by sadieb798 for robertdowneyjjr (AA, Comic)

The local newspaper/magazine/online publication runs a comic about the Avengers — from thwarted robberies to statues come to life, they are sort of like funny little recaps of the team’s latest missions that New Yorkers have witnessed. Then the comics start becoming more… domestic, showing the Avengers at home during game nights and weekend brunch. There are even a few where Cap and Iron Man go on a date together. The team comes across these comics and no one realizes Steve’s the artist. After all, the drawings are barely better than stick figures, and Steve’s art is much more refined than that… right?

i live in a city that lives in a different age by soliloquent for ohjustpeachy (MCU, 10.8k Words)

Steve Rogers has fourteen days to complete fourteen therapy homework assignments.

Five Times Steve Woke Up Early (And One Time He Didn’t) by AirlocksandAviaries for ABrighterDarkness (MCU, 8.3k Words)

Steve’s not actually a morning person, despite his body’s insistence. It’s quite possibly the one thing about the serum he’s not immensely grateful for. Forcing himself up and on a run to burn through the overwhelming, restless energy that builds bright and early would be much more tolerable if it were a few hours later. Tony decides to do something about this.

Steve is a (Wonderful) Person But A Terrible Patient by Neverever for sadieb798 (MCU, 3.5k Words)

Tony is assigned a new patient, Steve Rogers, who has a lot of medical issues and Tony is ready to help. But he finds he has something to learn from Steve.

Come With Me by ChocolateCapCookie for meidui (MCU, 3.4k Words)

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” asked Tony. “Besides trying to volunteer at every charity in New York, of course.” Or the one in which Tony isn’t sure if Steve is a stalker or just a really, really good guy.

I surrender to you(only you) by captainstars for AvengersNewB (MCU, 1.6k Words)

He doesn’t know if the first time is a mistake. The phone rings. The sound is so unnatural that Steve almost doesn’t answer it. And then he scrambles for it, but the finger that presses on the answer button is still impossibly gentle. ‘Steve,’ Tony mumbles. Steve squeezes his eyes shut. It’s late in the night, but no one in the compound sleeps. It’s quiet nevertheless, and for a moment the only response Tony gets is Steve’s rasping breaths as he tries to gather what is left of himself.

Courting the Old Fashioned Way by zappedbysnow for Infinitywrites (AU, Art)

There’s a new mechanic in town. He bought a small ranch and fixes cars on the side. Steve is just being neighborly, welcoming him with some pie. It has nothing to do with the guy being cute. Nope. Not at all.

in the laundry room by wingheads for captainstars (616, Art)

steve isn’t so much ashamed by getting caught holding tony’s underwear in his hand as he is aroused by catching tony secretly wearing his jacket.

my curse is that I bill by the hour by picturecat for Fluffypanda (MCU, 5.5k)

Steve Rogers, the 21st century, and his no-good, really awful, legitimately-cursed first week in it.

(you look so lovely) running through my head by robertdowneyjjr for tinystark616 (MCU, 5.9k)

All his life, Steve has dreamed of a gorgeous brown-eyed brunet genius who’s too smart for everyone around him. Everything points to these being soulmate dreams, but that doesn’t make any damn sense when it seems like Tony’s in some far off future and Steve is just trying to get through a life of illness and poverty in 1930’s Brooklyn. Against all odds, they meet anyway.

In the Depths by waywardmillennial for WikketKrikket (MCU, 5.1k)

Prompt: Steve gets pranked on national TV as part of a charity TV fundraiser. It’s embarrassing, and leaves him feeling shaken in a way he didn’t anticipate. But it was for a good cause. So he’s fine with it. Really.

you’ve really missed a trick when it comes to love by meidui for ChocolateCapCookie (MCU, 2.3k)

Steve thinks he’s happier than he’s ever been, or at least he should be. This is the closest he’s ever come to having everybody he loves in one place and the Compound doesn’t echo with emptiness anymore, and he’s seen more of Tony in the past few months than he has in the last seven years. He’s still getting used to being with Tony again, this softer, older version of him, and how difficult that makes keeping his hands to himself because all he wants to do is touch him.

good enough for you by tinystark616 for Neverever (MCU, 4.6k)

Steve is having self-esteem issues because he feels like he isn’t good in bed. Tony finds out and decides to do something about it.

All I Need by VenomousSoliloquy for purpleicedteas (MCU, Art)

Sometimes Steve finds himself lost in doubt. Tony always knows exactly what he needs.

Summer Whispers by ABrighterDarkness for starksnack (MCU, Art)

Tags include ‘horseback riding’ but there is no provided summary.

my plus one has a plus four by starksnack for zappedbysnow (MCU, 7k)

five first date attempts + one first date

Magnum Opus by FrankTheSnek for wingheads (MCU, 6.3k)

Magnum opus (noun): a great work; a large and important work of art, music, or literature, especially one regarded as the most important work of an artist or writer. Steve does not believe in true mates, they are just an old wives’ tale. The man he has been dreaming of and turned into his greatest masterpiece is just an imagined muse and nothing more… Right?

Now and Then by Wikketkrikket for picturecat (3490, 10.6k)

Things haven’t been right between Steve and Natasha since she got back from a business trip overseas. How did things go so wrong, and can Steve make them right again? Also; they’re trapped in a basement.

Just Right by AvengersNewB for LadyGigi (MCU, 2.3k)

Omega Steve wears sexy lingerie, even though he’s deeply insecure about the way he looks in it. Alpha Tony is there to show him how perfect he is; wearing the lingerie and in general.

I’m on fire, but I’m trying not to show it by Fluffypanda for FrankTheSnek (MCU, 2.3k)

Steve misses being an omega. Tony helps him out with that.

Wish You Were Here by One and Five Nines for ishipallthings (MCU, 1.8k)

Steve starts sending Tony postcards

[Comic] Man Out of Time, Fish Out of Water (Prologue) by LadyGigi for VenomousSoliloquy (MCU, comic)

Mermaid Steve is swimming to the ocean surface with a bag full with human trinkets for his friend, Sam, to demystify when he comes across a red comet in the sky- at least that is what it looks like until it flies over him, revealing its humanlike form, and crashes into the water near the human island. Steve must decide if he will heed the warnings of his kind or investigate this once in a lifetime occurrence.

[crappymixtape]

crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿

❤ bad idea *18+ – @abibliophobiaa ( a silly little request of mine brought to life SO BRILLIANTLY oh my god • steve harrington x reader )

❤ forget me not – @sattlersquarry ( steve broke your heart and you're holding a grudge...until you're not • steve harrington x reader )

❤ wait you think i'm cute? – @stevestummy ( fluffy lil piece that is literal perfection omg • steve harrington x reader )

❤ a girl like you *18+ – @palmtreesx3 ( hot tub steve PART TWO, we are this blessed • steve harrington x reader )

❤ don't call me baby *18+ – @katyswrites ( a sugar daddy, modern au! of you and steve and omg just go read • steve harrington x reader )

❤ steve comforts dustin – @stevethehairington ( dustin is absolutely shattered after eddie dies and steve helps him the only way he knows how, prepare to sob • steve harrington & dustin henderson )

❤ relax, lay back *18+ – @superblysubpar ( steve wants to take things slow, but you have other ideas in mind • steve harrington x reader )

❤ knight!steve ( sneak peek! ) – @sw34terw34ther ( knight!steve falls in love with you, a literal actual princess • steve harrington x reader )

❤ colors pt. 4 ( sneak peek ) *18+ – @loveshotzz ( if you're not followed or haven't read colors FUCKING GO GO GO, sneak of part 4 • older!steve / daddy!steve x reader )

❤ what a man *18+ ( coming soon! ) – @loveshotzz ( eddie as a bouncer, steve as a bartender, need i say more?? • steve harrington x eddie munson x reader )

[loveshotzz]

Bouncer Steve wants to have the laziest of Sundays with you. He obviously works late in a Saturday so Sunday is designated for a long lay in, waking up with his hair a little wild and his arms locked around you. He grunts as he stretches a little, pillow creases on his face and wet kisses smeared against your shoulder.

“Mornin’” He lives for how you burrow into his chest and kiss the moles on his neck, moving one arm from around you to rub his eyes as the other hugs you closer. He tells you about a dream he had and stroked your arm and thigh with his finger tips, eyes becomes brighter as sleep leaves him. Steve kisses your lips a few times before patting your ass firmly. Diner breakfast. Pancakes and coffee, his treat every time.

It takes you way longer than it should, both hungry but reluctant to leave you cocoon bed. He contemplates booking a haircut as he watches you do your skin care, sitting on the toilet lid as his own moisturiser sinks in. His yawns crack his jaw and he pinches the lovely fat of your hip to make you yelp and giggle. He steals some of your lip mask and asks you to check it for him, kissing you a few times - the bed calling him louder to take you back to it.

this made me melt, i am so soft rn it’s not even funny and it’s all your fault anon. this is the sweetest fucking thing i’ve ever read 😩 i am in my feels about this man and i desperately need this to be my life.

[themculibrary]

Bars/Bartending AU Masterlist

A Little Too Close for Comfort (ao3) - helplessly_nonstop sam/bucky T, 1k

Summary: Sam and Bucky work at Stark's Bar and usually the regulars will flirt with Bucky. Sam is okay with that. But a new patron decides to get a bit too handsy and Nat sends Sam to save him... not that Bucky needs the help. This marks off my Bartender/Bouncer AU square!

B is for Bartender (ao3) - VenusDoom3 steve/bucky E, 5k

Summary: "Well," Bucky says, his tone low and brimming with promise, "you won't really know if you're into guys unless you try it."

Steve swallows hard, his eyes flicking to Bucky's mouth. "As in... try what?"

"Tell you what." Bucky reaches across the bar and cups Steve's jaw, ghosting the pad of his thumb over Steve's full, red lips. Steve quivers. "I was thinking about shutting down early tonight. If you'll give me ten minutes to close up, I'll take you upstairs to my place and let you try whatever the hell you want." ** Or, the AU in which Bucky is a bartender who offers Steve service with much more than a smile.

Brooklyn Boys (ao3) - Swietek93 steve/natasha E, 11k

Summary: Steve and Nat are sarcastic idiots who roll their eyes a lot and can’t see what’s right in front of them.

-Or-

Natasha and Steve are attracted to each other but are too dense to admit it. Cue sexual tension, ridiculous flirting, pining,and some jealousy.

Eyes Lock and It's Over (ao3) - fallingfromthestars steve/tony T, 1k

Summary: “Do you want to open a tab?” Tony asks, almost yells because of the music.

“Depends, will you take care of us tonight?” The man asks as a grin spreads across his face. The smile is kind, but his eyes are deceiving it. They are dark (and it’s not just the lighting) deep and blown with lust.

Fairytale Bar (ao3) - cryptidpoet bucky/peter M, 3k

Summary: Peter has played with gods, tricksters, magicians, and witches. He’s stood next to geniuses and monsters, has himself become a monster. He’s dipped his toes into other worlds, other universes, parallel universes. He believes in a lot of things. Impossible things. Unrealistic things. Beautiful, tragic, cruel things.

But he doesn’t believe in fairytales.

Feel Something (ao3) - orphan_account steve/bucky T, 5k

Summary: Some people just never find anybody that they fall deeply in love with. They wander through life grasping for the right person.

Bucky Barnes is a bartender at the Blue Note Lounge. He is scared that he'll never find his soulmate.

goddamn professional (ao3) - mwestbelle steve/bucky E, 3k

Summary: In which Bucky is a beefy stripper and Steve is a hipster bartender at the club with a crush. (Involves fewer stripper tropes than you probably hope)

Hey, Bartender, Pour ‘Em Hot Tonight (ao3) - emphasisonem steve/bucky M, 22k

Summary: In which Bucky is a bartender and Steve is immediately smitten. He's not the only one.

Keep You Warm (ao3) - ineachplace steve/bucky E, 7k

Summary: “You ever gonna stop fussin’ over me and get yourself a girl?”

Bucky’s face goes soft for a minute. It’s why Steve says it. To see the lines in his forehead smooth out. Sometimes he feels a strange urge to kiss him. Like he’s just so full of affection for him that it’s the only way to show it.

Steve knows it’s ridiculous. Knows it doesn’t mean what it sounds like it means. But sometimes, he wants it anyway. Regardless.

Kiss the Cook (ao3) - mambo steve/bucky, peggy/angie, maria/sam T, 28k

Summary: Former Top Chef contestant Steve Rogers opens a restaurant with his best friend, Sam Wilson.

And everything is great, except for Steve's giant crush on their new bartender.

Miracles Don't Happen Here (ao3) - zombified419 loki/tony, phil/pepper M, 105k

Summary: Tony finds himself in a new bar that he normally wouldn't ever frequent. After being rescued by Captain America, he finds himself drawn back to the location that witnessed one of his lowest points - and a cunning new bartender. [FrostIron] (Humor/Romance/Drama) Now completed!

Pour the Guinness (ao3) - buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle), lyn7 steve/bucky, pepper/tony E, 21k

Summary: Bucky’s a bartender at Stars and Bars, the coolest nightclub in Brooklyn. He’s excellent at his job, so he’s often called in when someone else misses a shift. Irritated he has to work on his scheduled night off, he’s pleasantly surprised when one patron makes his sacrifice worth it. Shy, handsome Steve Rogers is the best tipper Bucky’s ever met, but he wants something much different. Unfortunately, Steve’s hiding something, and Bucky’s not prepared when the secret comes to light, especially when he’s got one of his own.

Shaken (ao3) - glittercake sam/bucky G, 13k

Summary: Sam Wilson runs a small, independent investigative firm with his college friend Steve.

He's renowned for solving and uncovering just about anything that lands on his desk until random strangers start disappearing in his city. With only a hunch and an address, he heads to a dingy dive bar downtown for answers.

What he finds is so much more than he bargained for.

The Sherwood Lounge (ao3) - msraven clint/phil M, 10k

Summary: Everything about the place entices you to settle in and stay a while, to linger over good drinks and good conversation.

A bartender!Clint AU with bonus artist!Phil

Untouchable (ao3) - AvoidingAverage steve/bucky E, 43k

Summary: It's been eight years since Bucky Barnes left Steve standing alone and heartbroken. Eight years since Steve confessed his feelings and shared a kiss that left him aching for the impossible. Eight years since Bucky Barnes abandoned him to take up the mantle of his step-father's mob, Hydra.

Now, Steve's carefully rebuilt world is threatening to collapse again when he finds himself on a list of 'Untouchable People' in their neighborhood. Anyone who harms Steve Rogers will find themselves the target of a new, vicious mafia leader--the Winter Soldier.

(Or, the AU where Bucky tries to protect Steve by threatening violence on anyone who hurts him and inadvertently leads him into a world of mob violence, Interpol raids, and an overthrow of Alexander Pierce. )

Well, this is awkward (ao3) - Saturning harley/peter E, 5k

Summary: Peter and Harley hooked up at a bar some night. Then on other nights, too. Three months later, Tony introduces them, so they could work on avenger‘s tech projects together and maybe become friends.

Well, this is awkward. How are they supposed to tell Tony?

[ivoryminitower]

Echoes of Home: 28 - Tsu'na ("bouncing")

Echoes of Home: FFXIV AU OC – WoLs on Earth

We still have not yet found dark matter, or a mender.  Since that makes repairing difficult, Husband has suggested we work with simpler tools we can replace as we need rather than wear out our best tools.  I agree.  We do not need the finest adamantite saw to do the simple carpentry Husband proposes for Sam's shed.  We will need ash and elm to make tools, though, which Husband thinks might be found to the northeast.  That will be tonight's camping trip.

I looked up alcoholism.  I understand Sam's concern now, though surely he sees many alcoholics if people go to his bar as often as it seems.  Perhaps he did not want to see a new one.  That would be kind of him.

Alcoholism comes from drinking alcohol, but drinking alcohol comes from different things.  Alcoholism itself is a large topic that talks about other large topics.  Depression is a large topic about being unhappy, again coming from different things.  People can become unhappy when many bad things or a few large bad things happen to them, so that they cannot easily forget or live with it.  People can also become unhappy because their bodies make them so.  Alcohol makes them think they do not need to think about those things.

I do not think I am unhappy.  I am not in my home, but my home is with Husband.  I do not know many things about this world, but I am discovering them.  I do not see as many different types of people as I did in Eorzea, but I am seeing more in the people I do see, how they are unique and "diverse".  That word comes from google: "word for how people are different".  It is odd that I never used it in Eorzea when there are so many races there.

I look at this screen as I type these things.  I do not think I am unhappy.  But I think I am missing something.  I see Husband with his projects.  He finds them very easily.  His networking.  His crafting.  His storytelling.  He seems to often be thinking of what the next thing is that he should do.  "Word for thinking into the future": "foresight".  Perhaps this is something I need.  Perhaps Husband and I need to think together about these things.  Or perhaps I need to think about them for myself.

"Word for doing something for myself": "make something of yourself": "become successful through your own efforts".  I should think about this.  And I should do it without alcohol.

I took my first turn at bouncing last night.

"Hello, Sam."

"Evening."

"I am not an alcoholic."

"...Good to know."

"You were concerned about the cider."

"Hey, not my business.  Long as you're safe and stuff.  Prob'ly shouldn't drink while you're working, though."

"Not even Coke?"

Sam chuckled and got me Coke.  "You gonna be okay by yourself tonight?"

"Do we need to arm-wrestle?"

"No, I just...never mind."

"What do I need to do?"

"Break up any fights that start.  Anyone causes trouble, get 'em to knock it off.  If they don't knock it off, put 'em out the door."

"What do I do if none of that happens?"

"Anything you want.  Steve was makin' the rounds, gettin' to know people."

"I am not my husband.  May I read?"

"Sure."

I sat at the bar and read.  The Hartmans have some story books I am looking at.  Several are by someone named Zane Grey that sound like life in Thanalan.

My hearing is better than that of a hyur.  Husband thinks it is because my ears are bigger.  Even with my beret on I could hear someone talking to Sam at the other end of the bar.

"Hey, heard you got a new bouncer."

"Yeah, that's her over there."

"Her?  That skinny little thing?"

"Yeah, she's...tougher than she looks."

"Kinda cute.  Think I got a shot with her?"

"Uh...I don't recommend it.  She's married an' her husband's tough too."

"Eh, can't hurt.  Send a beer down that way."

I did not look up as a man approached.  He sat on the stool next to me.  "Hey, little lady.  What's your name?"

I looked up and met his eyes.  I stared at him a moment.  His eyes seemed empty somehow, and his smile did not seem real.

"Tsu'na."

"Suna, huh?  Interesting.  Where you from?"

"Far away."

I think he thought he was courting me.  He asked me questions.  I gave simple answers.  I thought he would tire of this, but he did not seem to notice my lack of interest.  Perhaps it was alcohol.

He put his hand on my arm. "You know, I'm sure Sam won't mind if you took a break...why don't we go out back and grab a smoke or something?"

Sam was watching us as he cleaned glasses.  He did not interfere.  This was mine to deal with.

"Please remove your hand."

"Aw, now, don't be like that."

His hand got tighter.  I knocked his arm away.  I stood and followed Husband's example by grabbing his shirt and lifting him by a fulm.

Sam shouted, "Not the new table!"

He was right.  The table Husband had built was very sturdy.  The man would have been hurt if I tried to throw him through it.  But the nearest old table was far enough away that I would have needed to carry the man to it.  I did not want to.

I tossed the man away into a clear space.  He sat down hard on the floor and stared up at me.

"You will not touch women without their permission."

He kept staring with his mouth hanging open.

"Do you hear me?"

"Y...uh...yeah."

"When a woman tells you to stop touching her, you will stop.  Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"Good.  Enjoy your evening."

I went back to the bar and quietly asked Sam, "Did I do that correctly?"

"Yeah.  S'fine."

"I will move the older tables closer to the bar."

"'Kay."

I went back to reading.  No one else caused trouble that evening.

[dameronology]

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 2/5

n e w y e a r s '8 6

"if i just wanted someone to hold then really anyone would do, i close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you" no use i just do, hayley williams (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking (all characters are 18+ but this is set in america lol) & also very minor references to smut

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on this series!! also massive apologies for the delay, i had massive writers' block and work was wiping me out :') still, i hope you enjoy. only three more wrong moments to go. - jazz

p.s no one in this chapter is meant to be reasonable😉

Steve Harrington hadn’t expected to spend New Years’ Eve of 1986 in a nightclub in Manhattan. 

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected to be here. 

Neither had you. And you didn’t even know of his whereabouts yet.

He’d been…lonely, after Christmas. Actually, he’d been lonely since the moment you left. Steve had known Hawkins before you and he’d known Hawkins with you but he had never prepared himself for Hawkins without you. Even when you called everyday and wrote letters every other week, there was still a gaping, you-sized hole in his life. Pictures of you hung up around his room; Polaroids and photo booth strips that dated back to the late seventies; records you’d brought him and drawn him; the silly, dumb notes you used to pass to each other in class. It wasn’t until you left that Steve realised his entire life was basically a shrine to you. 

Christmas was great. Seeing you was great. It had been nothing but hugs and smiles and warmth for a week straight. The celebrations came and went and before he knew it, Steve was dropping you off the airport and hugging you goodbye. It stung a little less this time, know that he knew what to expect in the aftermath, but coming back to an empty house had killed him inside. 

So, Steve started driving. And he kept driving until he reached the night club that he knew you’d be at. Even though it took him twelve fucking hours and fifty goddamn bucks on the door because he wasn’t old enough to be in here and especially not to be drinking. It left him wondering how much you’d paid to get in. Probably not a lot - even back in Hawkins, most bouncers just let you in. Why wouldn’t they? Maybe you were a bit haywire and crazy around the edges but you were also beautiful. One look at your smile, and the way you flashed your eyes with a stupid joke? You could get in anywhere. Steve Harrington was convinced that you were insane enough to open any door in the world. And yet, you stayed at the Hideaway. Every other Friday, with him and a pint of whatever shitty beer they had going. Because even though you get into any club in town, Steve was limited to wherever the fuck Eddie Munson could sneak him in. You’d never been one to stray away from Steve’s side. 

So…yeah. Coming here had been unexpected and god, Steve hated clubbing. What was the point of a room of sweaty people and loud music? That was all he could think about as people thudded into him, one by one in time to a fucked up remix of a Queen song. He just needed to find you and then get the fuck out of here. He had nothing planned in terms of a speech, or even the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He just wanted to see you. That was all. 

“Hey, man! What where the fuck you’re going!”

A sharp elbow came into contact with Steve’s ribs, and he turned around to see you. There was a scowl on face, then a look of disbelief, and before he knew it, you’d almost tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve hit the ground with an oof, breaking your fall with his own body. “I just missed you.”

You grinned. “I missed you too. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“You mentioned this club a few times last week. Sorry for just turning up-”

“- never apologise,” you cut him off. Stumbling up, you shoved aside a few dancers and stuck out your hand to help him up. “I’m happy to see you.”

You pulled Steve into another hug, hands balling up into the back of his shirt as you did. Steve had always given the best hugs. For as long as you could remember, all your problems could be fixed with a hug from him. Bad grades, shitty boys, fights with your parents. They were all menial, but even now, after a few months in the big city, you were certain they could fix bigger ones too. 

“C’mon, Steve,” you took his hand in yours. “Let’s talk properly outside. Yelling over this music is gonna kill me.”

Keeping his hand in yours, you pulled Steve across the club and towards the smoking area on the other side. It was amazing, really, the way you could just shove people aside with your elbows and a glare. You’d put the fear of God and/or yourself into him multiple times, so Steve couldn’t be surprised. 

The smoking area wasn’t as busy as the rest of the club. There were a few stragglers standing around - some with tobacco, some smoking something a little stronger. On the other side, a drunk girl was throwing up. You didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe you came to places like this often. Even though Steve had never known you to enjoy big crowds or loud music. 

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steve asked. “I saw a couple pizza places down the road. Maybe we could grab some food and then watch the ball drop, if you have a television-”

“- what do you mean?” you frowned. “I was gonna stay here. There’ll be a massive countdown and drinks and all my friends are inside.”

“Seriously?” he scoffed (however unintentionally). “I didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

Your face fell. “Don’t be an ass, Steve. Y’know I hate when you’re an ass.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I guess I don’t know what you enjoy doing at college. I forget it’s a different scene to Hawkins.”

“Hey, you’re good,” you smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, okay?”

“Me too,” he returned the gesture, before glancing around the place. “So, what do you do here? Just…drink and dance?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you shrugged. “It definitely looks awful from the outside but I promise my friends are fun. They’ve heard all about you and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Friends. He’d heard about all your new friends; Jessica and Amanda and Tiffany and Daniel and…there were too many to remember. Steve knew that he was still your best, best friend, but it was nice to see you flourishing. It was clear they all loved you from the way their faces lit up. They gave Steve a smile too, and a it’s so nice to meet you! or a I’ve heard so much about you! 

Still though, clubbing certainly wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t expected it to be your thing either, but from the way you were throwing back shots and dancing around with your new friends, it was clear that it was. You’d shoot him a smile every few minutes, or grab him for a silly dance. All attempts to make him feel included. It wasn’t your fault that Steve had so quickly gone from excitement in seeing you to feeling like he was a sore limb. No one was doing anything to make him feel like that. Nobody but him, of course. 

It wasn’t until you approached the bar just before midnight that Steve followed you.

“Hey!” you gave him a bright smile. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m not not having fun,” he grimaced, but took your hands in his. “Look, I’m really tired and I just drove twelve hours without stopping and I really want to spend time with you tomorrow, okay? So I think I’m gonna head tonight, if you’re okay with me breaking into your apartment and crashing in your bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” your face fell a little, but you still forced a smile. “No, I get it. Take my keys, yeah? It’s the apartment building with red front door on the corner of 5th and 73rd. Apartment 48. My room is the first on the left and-”

“- it’s okay, I’ll find it,” Steve cut you off. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hands one last squeeze. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Steve Harrington.”

Even though Steve had only had two pints of Budlight, he hadn’t considered that his alcohol tolerance was basically on the fucking floor. So, no driving for him. Just an obscenely overpriced yellow cab to take him a few blocks west. The streets of Manhattan weren’t exactly confusing, and maybe it was just dumb luck that your key fit into the first red door he found. Four floors up and two more doors in and that luck continued, right until he found himself managing to stumble into what he hoped and prayed was your apartment. 

It was a cozy little place that you’d rented from one of your parents’ friends. He worked in real estate in the city and quite honestly, you’d thanked your lucky fucking stars when you heard the words subsidized and rent. Maybe it was a little bare, but you’d made it your own. Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself at all the pictures of him around the room. 

Your room was just as cozy. Maybe it was a little funny that Steve’s head hit the pillow just as the fireworks outside went off - then he felt a bit bad. Had he ditched you? Maybe. But he had driven twelve hours just to unintentionally surprise you and he deserved rest. Even if you hadn’t asked that of him, even less expected it of him. Maybe he was just a little disappointed that you hadn’t wanted to spend New Years Eve sat in a pizza place with him. That was what you had done the year before. 

He fell asleep easily, the traffic outside becoming white noise. It wasn’t until a couple hours later - just gone 3AM, according to the clock on your bedside table - that you came crashing and stumbling in. Steve was woken by the sound of your shoes hitting the floor with a thud, and then a little fuck! as you stumbled out of your clothes and into a big NYU t-shirt. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve suddenly sat up, barely catching you as you fell to the ground. “Why don’t you turn on the lights, genius?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you muttered. Were you mad? You seemed mad. 

“Hey,” he frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing-”

“- we both know what when you say nothing that it’s definitely not nothing,” he reminded you. “Are you gonna spit it out or am I gonna have to go through every single thing I did and said tonight before we find an answer?”

You scowled at him, knowing he was right. Steve didn’t have fifteen years of riding the fiery dragon that was your personality not to know how to humble you. 

“You said you missed me and that you came to see,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest. 

“...and that’s why you’re mad?”

“No!” you snapped. “I’m mad because you stayed for like…all of five minutes and then left! You didn’t even try to talk to my friends or to even stay and then I had to spend the last two hours defending you whenever they pointed it out!”

“Pointed what out?!”

“That you left! That you barely spoke to them or to me-”

“- I’m sorry that clubbing isn’t my thing!” Steve cut you off, barely hiding his audible groan. “I left so you could have fun with your new friends, okay? I didn’t wanna kill the mood.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “You weren’t killing the mood. Why do you have to say things like that?”

“Because it’s true!” he huffed. “You have a life here and friends and…things have changed. And I think I’ve been left behind.”

“How?!” you demanded. “How have I left you behind?! Because I went clubbing for one fucking night instead of dropping my plans when you turned up out of the blue?!”

“Because you said that things wouldn’t change! And they have!”

“Of course things are going to change!” you yelled. “We’re growing up! I’m at college, you’re working full time! Life fucking changes, Steve!”

“What if it changes and you forget about me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out another groan. “Steve, my life does not revolve around you. I love you and you are my best friend but can’t you just appreciate what we have right now rather than worrying about what we might be?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going instead. 

“Maybe we won’t be friends in five years. Maybe we’ll be married with kids in ten or sharing a fucking grave in eighty but none of that matters if you just can’t appreciate what we are right now,” you continued. “Two people who love each other and-”

“- you think about us getting married?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally just said it.”

“It was hypothetical-”

“- but you still said it-”

“- I also said that we might not be friends! Do you wanna bet which one is more likely to happen at the rate you’re going?”

You gave him a light thump to the chest. Steve caught your hand as it collided with him, large fingers holding your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat as he did, gaze catching his. The tension in the room had already been thick but in that moment, you couldn’t have cut it with a knife. He kept his grip on your hand, both your chests heaving with anger and frustration and rage and-

The first time you had kissed, it had been gentle. Experimental and a little toothy and maybe hungry after years and years of unpent teenage horniness, but whatever tension had built in the last three months alone made all those years look like nothing. This was desperate and deep, hands all over the other. Steve kept his palms splayed on your back, then on your neck, then on your ass, each time gripping you so tight, clinging onto you as though you might slip away if he didn’t. 

You fell back on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his shirt. It was hard to register when exactly he took it off. Actually, when yours came off too, for that matter. Steve Harrington, as it turned out, was a man who consumed all your fucking senses all the fucking time. Ergo, it was hard to think about anything other than him, or what his hands were doing, or that you were finally about to go all the way with your best friend of fifteen years. 

It sort of clicked in your mind at some point that you probably should have stopped. It also registered in his mind. Still, neither of you did anything about it. You’d come this far now and it was hard to stop. Any consequences would be tomorrow’s problem. 

Happy New Year. 

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou

[imaginedreamwrite]

Taken: Part 7

The strip club wasn’t dingy like he thought it was. There weren’t drug dealers hanging around circular tables watching dancers spin around slicked and worn metal poles in the centre. There weren’t naked girls waking around with men trailing after them, hoping to be fucked quick.

Peter was surprised by the sight of the strip club. Almost surprised as he was by the thick velvet curtains obscuring one stage lit up by neon spotlights. Before the first dance stage was a half-circular booth with leather seats and a small table tucked into the centre for drinks and available food. Still, there wasn’t a pole; there wasn’t anything that alluded to the idea that this was a strip joint.

Peter wouldn’t have known any better if it weren’t for a show on one of the stages in the middle. The woman dancing had been stripped down to her see-through thong, and the men watching her were eager to reach and grab her.

“You interested in a dance, Parker?” It wasn’t Steve or Bucky who asked, but one of their guardsmen, named John.

“I’m not interested in strippers.” Peter fixed his suit jacket and brushed John’s question off.

“You’re not gay, are you?” John laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Shouldn’t be saying shit like that,” Peter grit his teeth and pushed John’s arm off him.

“Why’s that, Parker?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Makes you sound like a douche.” Peter stood his ground; he fired back at the man. “Rather, it makes you sound like a bigger douche.”

“A douche? Come on, Parker. It should be me up there. Should be me leading the ‘family.’”

“What did you-“

“Shut the hell up and get in here.” Bucky hissed, his eyebrows furrowed.

As John passed, Bucky reached out and stopped Peter. Blue eyes met brown, and there was a moment of silence before Bucky spoke, clearing misunderstandings.

“Steve and I don’t want to be here.”

“Why are you telling me that?” Peter asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We run the place; we don’t take pleasure in it.” Bucky kept talking, watching Steve start walking over toward Peter. “It wouldn’t take long for misconceptions to get out. “

“I have every right to tell my sister what I want to.” Peter, again, has stood his ground.

But it was unnecessary.

“We know you do, kid.” Steve came to stand to Peter’s right while Bucky was on his left. “We like your sister. And we want to pursue something with her.”

“She’s not a random fuck. We’re crazy about her. We haven’t wanted anything but her-“

“I know,” Peter looked at Steve and then Bucky, “I don’t trust John.”

“Oh?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that, Parker?”

“You should hear what he thinks of you.” Peter glanced between the two men, toward the subject of the conversation, who was laughing while grabbing handfuls of a waitress's ass. If there was one aspect of this family that often disgusted Peter, some men treated women.

It was how some of their men seemed to smack women around and use them as if they’re nothing. It bothered Peter because the two best people in his life were women, and he couldn’t help but wonder….but think of you and of May, if she were younger, being treated like this.

“What’s he saying?” Steve side glanced at Bucky, the two of them communicating without saying a word. They were together and had been together long enough to communicate nonverbally, to carry a secret conversation in glances and subtle touches.

Peter was hesitant. He was reluctant to tell them because he didn’t know whether this was some test or whether he would stand by the ‘snitches end up in ditches’ colloquial phrase that was tossed around.

“We’re not gonna hurt ya, kid.” Steve glanced over his shoulder, watching John maltreat another waitress before the bouncer came over. “John needs his ass kicked.”

“You touch another girl in here,” Bucky spoke with a level of calm that was terrifying, “and I’ll fucking shoot you. These girls aren’t your whores. Do you want a dance? You fucking pay for it.”

“He mentioned your relationship.” Peter felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, and he was tempted to pull it out and look at it.

“About your relationship?” A look crossed Steve’s face, a particular darkening to his eyes. “With each other or with your sister?”

“If he mentioned my sister, I would’ve kicked his teeth in.” Peter was a small kid, short compared to Steve and Bucky, but he was solid and determined, and he was quickly rising ranks.

“What else did he mention?” Their partner and ally were here; he was getting himself settled in the upper private rooms on the second floor.

“He thinks he’s a better leader,” Peter commented, and for the moment, it had gone unremarked upon.

The meeting had begun when their ally waved them over in the club Steve and Bucky owned. They took their places on the couch opposite their partner, and with their arms stretched across the back of the sofa, they were taking the meeting in a relaxed manner.

“Barnes, Rogers, you like one of these girls? Private dance on me.” Their ally tilts his head back, and one of the women he came with leaned over so he could whisper in her ear.

“We don’t dance with the girls that work here,” Bucky turned him down and rest on his elbows and leaned forward, “even if we had in the past, we don’t anymore.”

“Got yourself a girl?” He raised his eyebrow. “Didn’t think it’d be possible for the two of you to land someone permanently.”

“Mouthy woman from Queens,” Steve glanced at Peter, “the kind that’d mouth off to Hades and not bat an eye.”

“Must have a pretty tight cunt to put up with-“

“Don’t talk about her that way.” Peter grimaced.

“Why’s it matter to you, boy?”

“She’s my sister.” Peter didn’t back down.

“You’re fucking the kid’s sister?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Peter stood and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Parker, sit down,” Bucky ordered him one time, then drew his attention to their ally. “It’s not like that, you fucker.”

“Oh, I see. This broad-“

“Watch your damn mouth.” Steve was calm despite his defence of you. He was quiet, but the message was clear.

“You know me, Rogers,” he turned his head and glanced at one of the dancers waiting for something, “old habits. So you got yourself a woman. A good one?”

“Stubborn and mouthy,” Bucky grinned, “one of a kind woman with no fear.”

“So no dance,” his ally looked at Peter, “you kid?”

Peter didn’t have a chance to shake his head or protest.

“Kid, if you’re not going to take a private show or drink, take John to the office downstairs and get the cash.”

Peter complied, stepping around the women in the room, following John out of the room. Once they were gone, the conversation had continued, but it had taken a different route.

When Peter was gone, their ally leaned toward like Bucky had, with his elbows resting on his knees.

“So about the kid…and your mouthpiece….”

“What about them?”

“You mentioned their uncle got killed in a mugging?”

“When the kid was 15.”

“I have insight into who killed their uncle.” He first looked at Steve and then Bucky. “You said you wanted to give your girl a gift? I know who pulled the trigger.”

There was momentarily stilled conversation.

“I know who did it.”

“How close are they?” It was a hunch, an instinct that told both Steve and Bucky they knew of the person already.

“They’re within your circles. Completed the job on the side, working for a third party. Never spoke a word of it to anyone; the two of you wouldn’t have known cause that bastard is as tight-lipped as a nun in church.”

“But..?”

“Get the little fucker drinking cheap vodka, and everything comes out. Spilled the whole thing.”

“Let’s hear it then.” Bucky leaned back, his attention momentarily stolen by the waitress bringing drinks from the bar.

“The whole story? Come on, Barnes. It’s a trade.” The man across from them had reached forward and grabbed a glass, lifting it to his lips and sipping on the amber alcohol inside.

While Bucky was ready to continue the conversation, Steve dug into his pocket and fished for his phone, feeling it vibrate. When he pulled it out, he saw your name flashing on the screen. He showed Bucky the call and tilt the phone for him to see before he stood and stepped away from the conversation to take part in a talk with you.

“Baby,” he answered the phone and held it up to his ear, “I’m busy working.”

“Doing what? Infecting the city with your influence?”

“Something like that,” he grinned, “what do you need, princess?”

“Not your princess,” you scoffed, “and I don’t need anything.”

“So you called because you missed the sound of my voice? I’m flattered.”

“Where are you anyway? There’s God-awful music in the background.”

“I told you, daddy’s working.”

“Don’t ever,” he could hear your disgust through the phone, “say that again. That’s disgusting.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“Oh my God,” you hit realization, “you’re in that strip club you own.”

“One of them,” Steve looked over his shoulder, watching Bucky talk, “we’re not doing anything, honey. We wouldn’t cheat on our girl.”

“I’m not your girl, and I don’t give a shit.” You said so, but Steve could hear some relief in your voice after confirming that nothing was happening.

“Green looks good on you,” Steve smirked.

“I am not jealous.” You insisted.

“Sure, babe.” Steve moved the phone to the other ear. “What do you need, honey? Daddy’s working.”

“God, I hate you.” You groaned. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“For you, princess,” Steve smirked into the phone and couldn’t help that little bubble of amusement, “your daddies-“

“I’ll kill you.” Your disgust carried over. “I swear to God; I’ll put both your heads on pikes.”

Steve laughed under his breath, clearly picturing the look on your face as nothing short of adorable. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Peter and I are having dinner with my aunt. I want you both to come.”

“You want us to meet your aunt? Fairly big step-“

“Don’t…” you sighed. “You know what? I’ll text you the address. It’s at 6. I’m hanging up now before I vomit.”

“Just so you know,” Steve couldn’t help it, “both your daddies misses you.”

“Fuck you.” The call went dead, and Steve was shoving his phone back into his pocket, with a grin on his face that couldn’t be wiped off.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Girls just wanna have fun

AN: Happiest of birthdays to one of my partners in crime, @sidepartskinnyjeans. This fic has been written for her birthday celebration! Love you El!

Beta'd by the other sin sisters, @christywantspizza and @yarnforbrains.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics, Mood board and banner by me; rights belong to those who took the pictures.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

CW: Unhealthy familial relationships/toxic parenting, party girl reader, alcohol consumption, mentions of one-night-stands, explicit sexual content (oral sex (f and me receiving), protected vaginal sex), fuck-boi Loki (he's a warning!)

You know what’s worse than being a graduate stuck in a dead-end job completely unrelated to your degree? Being a graduate in a dead-end job who’s had to move back home, tail between their legs, because they have no other choice. It wouldn’t be so bad, except that your parents were always nagging at you.

“When are you going to stop partying, sweetpea, and start living like a grown-up?”

You rolled your eyes as you mom chastised you, yet again, for rolling in on a Sunday morning, last night’s clothes dishevelled, and smelling a bit of various alcohols.

���Come on Ma, I don’t have a lot of joy in my life. Don’t have a go at me for this, please.”

She put her arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a hug.

“I just worry about you, baby.”

“I know you do. I’ll be okay.”

Your father was worse though. He had no patience for what he termed ‘your childish bullshit.’ If you could afford to live on your own you would, just to get away from his shouting.

“You’re making a mess of your life! You need to put more effort in. That’s always been your problem. Maybe if you’d thought more about what to do at school you wouldn’t be stuck with a useless degree and in a rubbish job. Didn’t expect you back here; I can tell you that!”

You ground your teeth, knowing there was no point in arguing back; you just snuck away as soon as you were able, hoping that you could save enough money soon to put down the security on an apartment. Anywhere would do, as long as it was out of here.

You were glad that your job was a steady, stable one. Data entry, no glamour, but you excelled, finding you had a knack for typing fast and accurately. The best thing was that it wasn’t shift work. You worked from 8.30-5pm, Monday to Friday with an hour lunch break. There was nothing about it that you took home with you, so when Friday afternoon rolled around you were free for two days.

You went out most Friday and Saturday nights. Yes, it annoyed your parents, but the irony was, that you went out to escape them and their incessant judgement. Okay, sometimes you might have a bit too much to drink. And sometimes you didn’t make the best choices (cough, cough, Brock Rumlow…), but you were young, trying to enjoy yourself whilst you could. Once you finally moved out of your parents home you’d have even less money and would probably end up a hermit.

Friday night and you turned up at Club SHIELD. Your friends were already there; you’d been held up by another argument with your dad. You tugged at the hem of your wet look black mini-dress, and checked your lipstick in the mirror you kept in your small purse. Slinging the strap over the shoulder you walked up to the doors, blew Sam, the bouncer, a kiss and sauntered inside. You looked good and you knew it.

The music was thumping, the multi-coloured lights swishing over the crowd, and you pushed your way through the throng towards the side of the club where your group always grabbed a table. You waved as you saw Nat, Wanda and Steve, although you weren’t as happy to see Brock tagging along. You supposed it was your fault though. You had encouraged him. More than encouraged him, you acknowledged to yourself as you thought back to a night a few weeks back when you’d had one too many drinks and ended up fucking him in the club bathroom. Now he seemed to think you were a sure thing, and kept hanging around in hopes of a repeat performance.

You slid into the booth next to Nat, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Wanda slid a cocktail glass across the table at you, shouting to be heard over the bass.

You thanked her with a nod of your head and lamented the latest blow-out with your parents. Whilst Steve and Brock continued their own conversation about football,

Nat and Wanda made the right noises and pulled you in for hugs until the older redhead smacked her hand down on the table.

“Okay, that’s enough of that, Sunshine! Time for shots, then dancing!”

You stood from the booth.

“I’ll get ‘em. Five tequilas?”

The others nodded their assent and you swished your way to the bar. It was crowded there, but thanks to judicious use of your cleavage you managed to work your way to the front and get served fairly quickly. You picked up some more cocktails for you, Wanda and Nat and a pair beers for Steve and Brock, and made your way back. Shots knocked back, you and Wanda made your way to the dance floor, leaving Nat and Steve to a make-out session before the red-head would inevitably join you. Brock was still leaning against the side of the booth, watching you.

You were enjoying yourself, you always did, to be honest, dancing your cares and worries away. You danced with Wanda, with Nat and then started to dance with some of the guys around you. It was all fun.

Then you spotted him, leaning against the wall and looking out over the crowd. Tall, slim, but muscular, shoulder length black hair. He had black leather trousers on, an emerald green tee and an open black shirt over the top. Gold lip and eyebrow rings glinted under the flashing lights.

He looked like a bad boy.

He looked delicious.

You smiled at him and danced in his direction. As you got up next to him, you saw his eyes were also a green-ish colour, the skin around the corners of them crinkling as he observed you approach, an echoing smile spreading across his own features.

“Hey, tall, dark and brooding, you got a name?” You walked your fingers up the open buttons of his shirt.

“For a beautiful lady, always. I’m Loki. And you are?”

You leant forward to speak in his ear, giving him your name.

“Pleased to meet you,” he drawled. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m always ready to dance, Loki.” You took hold of his hand, marvelling at how long and slender his fingers were, and pulled him along behind you. You started to dance with him, getting closer and closer together. You laughed and smiled coyly at him, standing up on your toes to shout in his ear.

“At the risk of being cheesy, do you come here often?”

You could see him chuckling, although you couldn’t really hear it over the music. He draped his arms over your shoulders and pulled you closer, bending down to reply. His breath was hot on your ear, but it made you shiver.

“First time, but my brother and his friends come here all the time. He’s over there.” Loki stood up straighter and pointed. You turned your head and realised that you were looking back at your own table. There, next to Steve, was a hulking blonde man, who you recognised as Thor. You whipped your head back round.

“You’re Thor’s brother? Well, what a small world. My friend Steve knows him.”

“A small world indeed.”

You grinned back at him and continued to dance, moving closer, so that you were almost grinding on his thigh. He looked down at you, eyes hooded, a small smile twitching at his lips. His hands moved to your hips, helping you sway against him, and then, making sure he was looking you right in the eye, pulled you that last inch. The silk of your underwear slid up and down the leather of his trousers as you stared at each other. You pulled your lower lip in between your teeth and then gasped as his tongue snuck out from between his own lips to moisten them; he had a gold tongue stud to match the jewellery in his nose and eyebrow.

Your eyes widened as thoughts about how Loki could use that tongue stud to his advantage ran rampant through your mind. His smile grew broader in response, as if he could read your mind. His head dipped down closer, his nose brushing against yours, your breath mingling. It felt like a buzz of electricity between you and your eyelids fluttered as his lips brushed yours, all too briefly. He pulled his head back up just far enough to murmur in your ear.

“Let’s leave early…”

You took hold of the collar on his shirt and dragged him back down. You weren’t the shy and retiring type; you took what you wanted when it was offered to you so beautifully and eagerly. You kissed him with all the passion you could muster, almost swooning in his arms as his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting you.

You didn’t really recall leaving the club and only had a vague recollection of walking down the cold and dark streets with Loki, holding hands, fingers entwined, and stopping every few minutes for a filthy make out session that had you rubbing up and down him like a cat in heat. You did remember him mumbling something about it all taking too long, before he started to drag you along at slow jog. You laughed as you ran with him, and when you finally got to the door of the house he shared with Thor and the others, you had your hands in the back pockets of his pants, squeezing his ass cheeks and pressing kisses to his back through his shirt.

“You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you?”

“Says the man who just dragged me along the sidewalk at full pelt.”

He just kept grinning at you, taking both your hands in his, walking backwards and leading you up the stairs. You smiled back, and licked your lower lip suggestively, until you reached the landing. Then Loki was kissing you again, one hand coming up to cup your face as he walked you along until you entered his room. It was cramped and cluttered; the only light came from a bedside lamp, but the bed was a double.

You both tumbled down on to it, a brief giggle making its way past your lips before Loki was kissing you again. You rolled onto your back, pulling him over you, your hands pushing up past his shirt and tee, your fingers digging into the firm flesh. You could feel the stud in his tongue rubbing over your own and it was making you feral. You pushed his black shirt from his shoulders and then started to pull his tee up his torso. He broke the kiss long enough to draw it over his head and toss it across the room, a broad grin lighting up his face. You ran your hands up his chest, not overly broad but definitely delicious. He had bars through his nipples and you couldn’t help but pinch the little nubs, delighting in how he shivered and let out a small whimper. You bucked your hips and flipped the pair of you. As you straddled his leather clad hips your short dress rucked up so you grabbed the hem and pulled it up and off, the black fabric joining his t-shirt on the floor.

Loki’s eyes devoured your form as you hovered over him, and his hands ghosted up your sides, feeling the softness of your skin as his fingertips grazed the underside of your bra. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, and with your hands pressed onto his smooth pecs, you ground your clothed pussy against the bulge struggling inside his leather pants.

“Is that how it’s going to be, darling? You testing my patience? Teasing me?”

“Who said I’m teasing?”

You grinned as you replied, before unclasping your bra and sending it the same way as the rest of your clothes. Loki surged under you, taking one fat nipple between his lips, running his tongue stud over it and gently pinching the other. Your hand snaked between you and started to work on the fly of his pants. Somehow, he lifted his hips slightly and, without breaking the contact between his mouth and your breast, worked his pants and briefs down. They ended up stuck around his knees, as you refused to move from your perch above him. He didn’t seem to mind though, if his stiff cock was any indication. You wrapped your hand around it and shimmied down his body.

Like a cocky bastard he lay back, hands behind his head as he watched your mouth approach him, but you knew what you were doing, making him gasp when you lapped at his salty slit with the tip of your tongue. You let the taste linger on your mouth, before letting out a string of your saliva to run down him, smearing it over his silken flesh with your hand. Then, making sure his gaze was on you, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, suckling on it, and lathing it with your tongue. You slowly lowered yourself, further and further down, until you were taking as much as was comfortable, your spit slicked hand covering the rest of him. You smiled to yourself when you felt his hands on your head, not there to control you, but just to feel you. You deployed all of your varied and numerous tricks and delighted in the way he shook, shivered, and moaned under you until his hold on your head tightened, and he drew you up and off him, with a husky “Enough”.

Lust blown eyes met lust blown eyes as a string of mixed saliva and precum stretched between your bodies, still connecting your mouth to his cock. He dragged you back up for a filthy kiss before sliding out from under you so he could shuck the pants that were still hobbling him.

“My turn, darling!”

From the look on his face, you were in trouble, and you were all onboard for it. Almost before you could blink, he’d drawn your panties down, knelt between your soft thighs, and thrown your legs over his shoulders.

Loki attacked your folds with precision, twirling his tongue stud over the sensitive tip of your clitoris, before moving to spear into you with the flexible muscle. You mewled and bucked against his face, as he drove you higher, towards your peak.

“Oh god, Loki! Fuck!”

He hummed against you, before returning his mouth to your clit, sucking on the stiff bud, and slowly pushing two of his fingers into you. You wailed and your back arched as he curled his fingers and started to stroke inside you. You fingers tangled into his long ebony hair, and he moaned into your pussy as you fucked yourself on his face. Your orgasm crashed into you, waves of pleasure rolling through your body and Loki slowed his ministrations gently, waiting for you to indicate you were done. A gentle tug on his head had him moving back up your body. His face glistened with your release, and you pulled him in for another kiss, moaning at how filthy it was to taste yourself on him.

Loki’s lithe body pressed you into the mattress, his hips rutting against yours and his impatient cock leaking over your stomach as your tongues tangled. You pulled your head away, hands cupping his face.

“You better have a condom somewhere in this room that you can put on, cos I need you in me Loki, like right now.”

He chuckled deeply, a sound that seemed to go straight to your weeping and slick core.

“Far be it for me to disappoint a lady.”

You let him pull away from you, and he reached into his bedside drawer, withdrew the small foil packet and sheathed himself. He was back in a moment, kissing you once more, and you twined your arms around his neck and hooked a leg over one of his hips. He reached down to guide himself to you, and then he was pushing into your tight heat.

You both groaned in unison, as he carefully carved himself a space inside you. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed, as he bottomed out, breathing slowly. You clenched your muscles experimentally, inwardly grinning when he let out a little moan. You then started to rock your pelvis, the leg you had around his hip encouraging him to move against you.

His eyes snapped open.

“Still being a minx, I see.”

You smiled at his statement, but the expression was short lived as he ground his hips in a circle and his cock brushed against the sensitive part of your inner walls.

“Fuck, yes! Shitting hell!”

He pulled back slowly, before sliding all the way back in, to the hilt, forcing more curses from you

“Oh fuck!”

Not to sound like Goldilocks, but Christ, if his cock wasn't ‘just right’.

He set up a leisurely pace then, not too fast, not too slow, with just the right amount of ferocity. With one hand he held himself up over you, the other gripped your hip, your flesh spilling out between his fingers. Part of you hoped you might bruise, so you’d have a longer reminder of this night.

He ducked his head to suck on your breasts again, flicking at your nipples with his tongue stud. His eyes darted up to yours when you brought two of your fingers to your mouth, sucking on them, before reaching down past the hard planes of his abs, where they pressed against your softer, rounded ones, until you reached your clit and started to rub against it.

Your other hand gripped his shoulder, your nails digging into his flesh.

God, you were so turned on, lewd squelching noises coming from where you were joined, with every thrust of Loki’s hips. He abandoned your breasts, his sharp teeth nipping at your neck, your jaw, your lower lip.

“Come-on darling, I need you to come for me! Fuck, you’re so luscious, so goddamn sexy…”

You could tell he was struggling to keep his rhythm, holding himself back from his own orgasm with all his will power. It was this knowledge that tipped you over, the feeling of holding absolutely power over Loki’s pleasure so sinfully erotic.

Your muscles clenched down as your hips rocked up against his, high-pitched squeaks, whines and curses spilling from your lips. You felt him jerk and shudder within you, his lips capturing your cries and filling your mouth with his own, as he came.

He managed to thrust through his aftershocks, each ragged movement eliciting another cry from you as your sensitive walls continued to spasm. With a gasp, Loki’s head came to rest, face down, on the pillow next to your own, his sweat streaked body a pleasing weight on top of you.

He lay there for a few moments, catching his breath and coming down, before he turned to face you, mouth grinning, eyes sparkling in the low light.

“You okay, darling?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. But I do need to go to the bathroom though.”

You wiggled, playfully, under him and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before lifting himself up with an over dramatic groan, holding onto the condom. He disposed of it quickly and grabbed his dressing gown from the back of the door.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an en-suite. Erm, bathroom’s just down the hall.”

He passed you the robe and you put it on, glad to note there was a decent enough overlap at the front. You padded down the corridor to the bathroom, quickly refreshing yourself, before returning to his room. You wondered what would happen now. Would he offer to call you a cab?

You were pleased though, to find he was tidying his bed and that all your clothes had been collected and folded neatly on the top of his dresser. He pulled you back into his arms, kissing you once again.

“Would it be too needy of me to ask you to stay? I’d love to cook you breakfast.”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, before taking the robe off and pushing him back towards the bed.

“Mmm, I wasn’t sure, but you’ve persuaded me with the promise of breakfast.”

He dragged you down with him, arranging you half across him, you head resting on his chest. Your fingers lightly flicked at one of his nipple bars, and you smiled as he shook slightly.

“Is that how it is, minx? Only want me for my cooking skills, huh?”

“Of course”, you teased. “What else could I want you for? Now sshh, I need my beauty sleep.”

“I’d argue with that, but my mother always taught me to agree with a lady.”

You yawned, feeling relaxed and happy. Who knew where this would go, but you’d both had fun at least. You drifted off as Loki’s hand drifted up and down your side, smiling to yourself.

Tag list: @turbolisedcomet @animnerd @viva-asgardia @goldylions

[mochie85]

Love Potion #9 - Chapter 2: Tea

Love Potion#9 Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Steve has decided to take a break from his Avenger work to focus mostly on himself and what he wants out of this life. Would that life now include you? Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female reader/OC Word Count: Over 3.1k Warnings: Fluff. Drinking.

It took a week before Steve walked back through the doors at Madame Rue’s. After the kiss, you locked up and you both went your separate ways. You headed downstairs to your cellar apartment, and Steve got on his Harley to go back to the Tower. You didn’t hear from him at all the following days, so you thought he changed his mind and decided not to take you up on your offer of working for you.

“Someone’s here to see you, Madame.” Your lead bartender came in knocking on your office door.

“David, I told you not to call me that.” His chestnut skin glowing under the lights of the bar.

“Ya, but you’re the owner now. Your aunt never minded it.” He said goading you.

“It makes me sound old.” You joked as you followed him out your door. “Who is it?” Just then you saw a pair of crystal blue eyes eagerly waiting for you at the bar. “Steve?”

“You sound so surprised to see me?” He said with that all-American smile of his.

“I just haven’t heard back from you in a while. I thought you had changed your mind.”

“I needed to arrange some things first. Two months is a long time to step away from…well, you know.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

“I hope it’s not too late.”

“No, not at all. Are you free tonight? We could really use the help.”

“Sure. You said you needed a bouncer.”

“More or less. Have you ever bartended before?”

“No.” Steve said with chagrin.

“Ok. No worries.” You said with a smile on your face. “David, show him how to use the taps and basic safety and security tips. I’ll cover for you.” You instructed David. David handed him a clean towel and ushered him to the back of the bar.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Steve had rolled up his sleeves and was a quick learner. Pretty soon he was handling the beer and neat drinks for some of the customers.

“Hey, has anyone ever told you that you look like Captain America?” A woman said at the bar sometime later.

“I get that a lot. I’m very flattered.” Steve said smirking back at her as he handed her a glass of white wine.

“No really, you do. Are you sure you’re not him?”

“What would Captain America be doing bartending? I’m sure he’s off saving the world.”

“All the better you’re here then, right?” she said flirtatiously. You tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but it was hard not to when it was happening right in front of you. “When do you get off?” the woman asked. Steve was about to answer when you turned the blender on. The added noise sent a shrill grinding sound to anyone close by. Steve looked at you, and you turned off the blender.

“Making a margarita for a customer.” You said with a smile. Steve returned your smile and turned back to the woman. He opened his mouth to answer again, but you had pulsed the blender. “Darn ice won’t crush!”

You couldn’t keep the act up any longer. You had to serve the margarita sooner or later. As soon as you poured the slush into a glass, Steve answered the woman’s question.

“I’m really flattered, but it would be highly unprofessional of me to take advantage of this situation. So, if there’s nothing else I can get for you, I should go help my coworkers over there.” Steve nodded.

You bit down on your lip, trying your best not to smile. What came over you? You were never this emotional about a guy before. Why did it bother you that someone else was flirting with him? Why did you feel so elated when Steve turned her down? He wasn’t anything to you, except an employee.

Dang, it!

He’s an employee now. It would be unprofessional, like Steve said to the woman, to do anything more.

You kept thinking about what he said for the rest of that night. After closing, you were locking the night’s profits in a bank bag when Steve knocked on your door. “Come in,” you yelled out. He opened the door and stood, leaning on the frame. “Hey,” you said in greeting.

“Hey.” He answered back. “Um, David left for the night. Said he fixed the broken tap on the left. I was wondering if there’s anything else you needed before I go too?” Steve cast his eyes down, unable to look you in the face.

“No, thank you. You did amazing tonight. You’re free to go if you’d like.” You could tell he wanted to say something else. “What is it, Steve? What is it that you want?” you asked in a soft voice. You started walking towards him. You turned your head to the side to catch his eyes. You smiled when he finally looked up at you.

God, her eyes are so beautiful, Steve thought to himself. So vibrant and deep. He couldn’t stand to look at your eyes for very long. Whenever he did, he was obliged to always tell you the truth. As if your eyes could see straight through the bullshit and find out the raw emotion underneath.

“Nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve said with a smile.

“Wait for me, let me close up, and I’ll follow you out.” You locked the earnings in your safe. Gathered your keys and phone and followed Steve out into the bar. You could hear taps of rain pelting the windows as you stepped out into the dining area.  “When did it start raining?” You asked aloud.

Steve looked out the windows, slightly agitated. “Well, this isn’t going to be a fun ride back.” You turned off the lights and locked the front entrance. You looked up at Steve as he studied the slick road. The small hanging above the entrance barely covers both of you. The rain came down harder. You wrapped your arms closer to you for warmth. You did not like the rain. Moreover, what usually comes when it rains. He saw you and took off his jacket to wrap it around you.

“Thank you.” You said looking up into his eyes. I don’t carry a jacket when I only walk three steps to and from home.”

“You’re welcome.” He started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm. His eyes strayed down to your lips.

“Will you be able to ride back in this weather?” You asked.

“Sure. I’ve ridden through worse.”

“New York drivers are bad enough when it’s not raining. Are you going to be safe?”

He gave you a smirk. “Is that concern I see?”

“Of course. You’re one of my employees…and a friend. I would hate for anything to happen to you.” A thought entered your mind. Bee. Don’t do it. You gave a loud sigh and asked anyway, “Would you like to come down for a bit? I mean to wait out the storm?”

Steve looked at you. The emotion on his face was clear as day. He was intrigued that you had invited him. But worried about what it might mean if he did.

“Will that be ok?” He asked.

“Sure,” you said as you led him down the short stairs next to the bar’s front door. You opened your door with a slight shove. As you wandered in, you turned on all your lights as you passed by, giving Steve a tour.

“Here’s my living room. Over there is the kitchen. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge. I try to keep it stocked.” You said as you made your way to the back where your bedroom was. “Here is the bathroom if you need it. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna change.” Steve looked around to where you were pointing. He gave you a terse nod as you made your way further into your apartment. He stood by the front entrance briefly, not knowing what to do.

You had a spacious apartment. Almost as big as the bar upstairs. There were candles in various sizes in the fireplace. Books scattered here and there. Along with pictures of you traveling on the walls. It was a different vibe from your bar. Where the bar was nostalgic and art-deco. Your apartment was modern and sleek accompanied by few sentimental touches.

He looked over to your kitchen and spotted a kettle on your stove. Hot tea for a cold night sounds nice, he thought. So he busied himself filling the kettle with water and setting it on your stove.

You came back to find Steve in your kitchen, pouring hot water into two cups. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m making tea.” He said as he finished pouring the water into your cup. When he looked back up at you, he was caught off guard by your presence.

You had this tough exterior to you whenever he saw you. He chalked it up to you running a bar. A lucrative, trendy bar with haute clientele, but a bar, nonetheless. A bar where people tend to lose their inhibitions, and you often had to find it for them and force them to behave.

But what he saw now, was a carefree, relaxed version of you. You had your hair piled up in a messy bun atop your head. Tendrils falling, framing your face. You wore a lavender tank top with matching sleep shorts. You looked somewhat embarrassed, fidgeting your fingers as you handed his jacket back to him. “Tea sounds lovely,” you responded with a smile.

You walked over to one of your cabinets and pulled it open. In it were jars of different types of tea. Dried leaves from all over the world. Steve looked daunted at your collection. “Not only do I know my alcohol. I know my tea.” You said with a slight chagrin. “My mom and my aunt taught me that a good cup of tea can fix any of your problems.” You said smiling as you picked up a jar labeled chamomile.

“Is that the same aunt that left you the bar?” Steve asked.

“The entire building actually.” You clarified. “She didn’t have children of her own. She and my mom were really close. So naturally, she became my second mom.” You scooped out some tea in an infuser and dropped them in both your cups.

“I’m surprised you didn’t decide to live in one of the higher apartments on the top floors then,” Steve said.

“Too high. I like being closer to the earth. Plus, the bar is really close. Honey?” you asked looking up at Steve. He suddenly had a synergistic smell of your honey and …was it lavender?... scent. He inhaled briefly, closing his eyes at the thought. When he opened them, he caught you looking up at him, waiting for him to answer your question.

“Ah, no. No thank you.” He took your proffered cup, slightly embarrassed, and followed you into your living area. You sat on the couch looking out at the windows. The rain was coming down harder.

“Is your bike ok out there?” you asked.

“Yeah. I parked it under one of the awnings in the back. It should be ok. I’ll have to give it a good wipe down when I get back so nothing rusts.”

“I see.” You whispered. The thought of watching Steve work on his bike ignited something feral in you. You could just imagine him with his shirt off, using his strong hands to wipe the bike dry. His strong fingers getting into all the nooks and crannies. Wait, what am I thinking? And why does his shirt have to be off? You cleared your throat and placed your tea down on your coffee table. “What were you thinking about earlier?” you asked him, suddenly remembering the look he had in your office. His brow furrowed in confusion when he looked at you. “In my office. You looked like you wanted to say something.” You clarified.

“Oh.” He said with a smile, sipping his tea. “I was hoping for that dance.” He said looking straight into your eyes.

“Well, you did work hard today. I suppose I should pay you,” you teased him. You went back to a bureau by your bookshelf and started to play a song from your record player. You turned and held your hand out for him to take. He smiled as soon as he touched your fingers. He stood up and gently pulled you towards him, wrapping his arm behind your waist and pulling your other hand behind his neck.

Steve didn’t know what made him so bold. He could barely ask you in your office. Now, here he is, holding you in between his arms. In your home, no less. You felt so fragile, but he knew you were anything but.

“I didn’t think you were serious with your dance comment last week. I was getting papers ready to make you an official employee. With benefits and everything.” You chuckled.

“No. I was serious.” He said looking straight into your eyes. “I don’t need money, Bee. I get compensated for my work with the team and I have everything else I need. I’m serious when I say that all I want is…this.”

Doris Day crooned in the background as Steve swayed you to the rhythm. He was considerably taller than you and he had to bend his neck down to dance cheek to cheek. His hair fell down, tickling your ear. You could feel his hard muscle underneath his shirt. His warmth comes through the fabric and instantly makes you feel calm.

He could smell your scent. He intuitively traced his nose down your neck, taking in more of your fragrance.

You felt a tingling sensation run right down your body. It frazzled all your nerves, from your toes up to the scalp in your hair. It was electrifying being in his arms.

Your nose grazed his as you savored his warm breath on your lips. He’s your employee now, you can’t. You pulled away slightly, looking up into his blue eyes. Steve sensed the hesitation in you. He didn’t want to push you any further. He smiled and just continued to hold you as you both swayed to the song.

“Thank you,” Steve whispered when the song ended.

“My pleasure,” you answered in a low sultry tone. You heard a slight buzz just before all the lights went off in your apartment. The sudden darkness surrounds the both of you.

For a brief moment. You were left with nothing but the heat from his body, the scent of his cologne, and the feel of his arms still around you. “It’s an old building. I should probably-”

Thunder rolled and lightning flashed through your windows, making you embrace Steve tighter. You shut your eyes and started whispering nonsensically. “Nononono”

“Hey. Hey. It’s ok. It’s only some lightning.” Steve said trying to calm you down. You shook your head as you heard another roll of thunder forming and lightning flashed through your windows again. He gently stroked your back as you buried your head in his chest.

He lifted your head to look at him. Through one of the flashes of lightning, he saw a single teardrop on your face. “You really don’t like lightning do you?” He saw a new side to you. He’s never seen you so vulnerable. “Ok. I’m going to go check the breaker. Your tenants will probably be wondering where their electricity has gone. Are you gonna be ok by yourself? Where are your flashlights? Or matches?” You pointed to a drawer under your record player. Your breaths coming in faster and shorter.

“There is a flashlight there and I keep matches on top of my mantle.” You said in a soft voice, your hands shaking as you pointed. Steve hurried to fetch the flashlight. He used it to find your matches and light the candles that were in your fireplace. You instructed Steve where to find the main breaker of the building and he left you on your couch huddling with a blanket around you for warmth. You sat on the couch, half anxious, half humiliated at the display of weakness you showed Steve. He’s an Avenger for goodness, sake. He’s most likely seen a lot worse. He probably thinks I’m a child for being so scared of a little lightning. Nevertheless, you brought your knees up and held your arms tightly around your legs when the next lightning came around.

There was a brief buzz and the lights in your apartment came back on. Soon after, Steve walked in through your front door. Drenched from being outside. You stood up, surprised, by his sudden appearance. His shirt was soaked through, showcasing the hard lines of his muscles underneath. His hair dripped water down to the floor as he ran his fingers through his strands.

“Sorry. I think I’m tracking water and dirt everywhere.” He said with a smile on his face.

“Th-that’s ok. Thank you. For doing that. You didn’t have to. It was hardly your responsibility.” You said.

“Are you feeling better now?” He asked, looking you up and down. You nodded your head.

“Let me get you a towel.” You left into your hallway and came back with a large fluffy towel. You offered it to him, and he took it kindly. He wiped himself off, rubbing his hair dry. “Y-you missed a spot.” You said looking into his eyes.

He offered the towel back to you. You took it gently and began patting him dry. Both your arms around his head as you rubbed the terrycloth around his hair. He stood there looking down at you. His hands on your waist.

He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to savor your soft lips because that’s all he’s been thinking about since he left your bar last week. But you’ve been so distant and timid since he came back. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. The fact that he surprised you when he came back into your bar earlier tonight left him crestfallen. It made him think that you hadn’t thought about him at all.

Thunder and lightning rolled around again. But not as frequent as it did earlier. You slightly jumped in his arms, but you weren’t as shocked as you were the first time. You held on to the towel tightly. Steve couldn’t understand your anxiety about it. But he didn’t need to. He just needed to know that you were feeling safe.

“Would you like me to stay tonight?” he breathed.

“Yes...please,” was all you could say.

⬅️Chapter 1: Spirits | Chapter 3: Coffee➡️

Tags: @lokiprompts @huntress-artemiss @dreamyrainywhispers @mochie85

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

Mileven AU WIP For WIP Wednesday!!!!

Hey, guys!!! I've been slowly working on this story for a few months. I took a break from it for a couple of months but just recently started working on it again. I know it's not much right now, but that's what a WIP is supposed to be, right?? First time I'm showing anyone this that isn't @obeymeh03 (yes, I'm tagging you, deal with it) so I'm curious what y'all think 👀👀 Lemme know, please!!! Any and all feedback is appreciated!! I know El isn't directly in what I have so far, but she's mentioned if you look closely 😌😌😌

×××××××××××××

Mike sighs as he shuts off the engine and slips out of the car, closing the driver's side door behind him. He locks it and slips the keys into his jeans pocket, walking right up to the front of the line for the club, ignoring the curses and exasperated looks people send him as he does. He flashes his ID to the bouncer and he's let in right away. Being best friends with the owners of the place has its perks, of course. He ducks through the door and heads straight to the bar first.

"Heeeeyyyy, Wheeler! Fancy seeing you here tonight. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if you were gonna show." Steve exclaims as he spots Mike, setting down the bottle he was holding and walking over.

"Hey, man. Sorry 'bout that, got caught up. Had a long shoot this afternoon and I slept too long afterwards. But I'm here now, no need to send out the search parties." Mike says as he grins at the bartender.

Steve grins right back. "Good to see you, man." He says, reaching into his pocket. "And, uh, that favor you asked me about?" He continues as he hands Mike a piece of paper. Mike takes it quickly, holding onto it as if it'll disappear if he isn't gripping it like his life depends on it.

"Shit, man, thank you so much for this. Seriously, you have no idea." Mike says gratefully.

Steve gives Mike a sad, knowing smile. "Yeah, I know, that's why I did it." Steve says sincerely.

The expression Steve is giving him starts to make Mike uncomfortable, hating the sympathy he sees in it. No, that's not for tonight. He clears his throat as he slips the paper into his pocket with his keys, that way he'll remember that he has it.

"Thanks, Steve. I think I'm gonna head up to the group. I'll see you up there, yeah?" Mike asks.

"Yeah, I'll definitely be there." Steve tells him as he gives a mock salute and then turns away to continue working.

Mike chuckles and shakes his head as he turns away, heading for the stairs leading up to the second floor of the place. He climbs up the transparent spiral staircase and heads to to the middle of the second floor, slipping past the curtains in the doorway of the room he knew the rest of the group would be in. He has eyes on him as soon as he enters and he grins.

"Mike Wheeler! My man, welcome! Glad you could finally make it. Though surprisingly, you're not the last one here." Dustin greets him as Mike rolls his eyes playfully.

"You say that as if I'm always late." Mike retorts.

Eddie snorts as he sets his beer down on the table. "Oh hush, little Mikey. We all know you avoid being on time like the plague."

Mike sighs, exasperated, as he slides into the booth next to the curly-haired man.

"Yeah, yeah. So who are we waiting on?" He asks, switching topics.

Suzie pipes up then. "Nancy and Robin, and Steve's gonna head up right before the clock strikes midnight. Well, Lucas and Max aren't here at the table, but they're downstairs mingling and waiting for Robin and Nancy to get here so that we can kick things off." She states.

"Oh, and I think Max mentioned some new friend of hers when they were up here earlier, so she might be coming as well." Chrissy told Mike.

Mike nods, grabbing one of the beers from the middle of the table. "Okay, cool. Hopefully everyone gets here soon, it's almost time." He says as he takes a drink, closing his eyes and relishing in the familiar taste.

"Yeah, man, we didn't all come here just to be late." Dustin says.

For a good few minutes, they all just talk and laugh and have a good time, catching each other up on the past week and watching as the clock ticks closer to midnight. At 11:57, the rest of their group arrives. Robin and Nancy enter the room first, Max and Lucas close behind.

"We're here, everybody, we're here!" Robin announces as her and Nancy grab chairs from a different table in the room and pull them close up to the table, taking a seat. Max and Lucas stay standing, still in the roles of gracious hosts, as always.

"Took you long enough!" Eddie exclaims, sliding two glass beer bottles towards Nancy and Robin as he does.

Nancy takes hold of hers as she rolls her eyes. "You know we were out of town, Eds. It's a long drive and we underestimated how long it would take." She tells him, leaning her head on Robin's shoulder.

××××××××××

This has also not been beta'd or proofread at all recently 💀💀💀

I'd also like to add that this story is very, very angsty and will be labeled as either mature or explicit, for many reasons, so if either of those aren't your thing, I'd highly recommend you not read this story. But you can make your own choices, of course! I'm just letting you know ahead of time!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

let me be your ruler.2

Warnings: guns, dubcon, noncon, handjob.

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (dark!mob!) Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You try to forget about Peter but he won’t forget about you.

Note: I hate that I am the way that I am. I wanted to keep this to two parts but you know me. 

Anyways, I’m excited for this and hope you are too.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Drowsy in the afterglow of sex and alcohol, you fell quickly into a deep sleep. You didn’t even change before you sank into bed. You hardly recalled the elevator ride up or stumbling into your apartment and tripping around the shadows to your room. It was only a fractured journey from the car to your mattress.

You woke as your phone vibrated under your pillow. You must have buried it there before passing out. You groaned and rolled over as you dug it out. There were several notifications next to a single name; Peter. You thumbed through each message; written in the same tone as his voice. Demanding, without question.

‘Great night, Princess.’ ‘We’ll do it again Saturday.’ ‘Wear something nice.’ … The messages escalated smoothly from doting to commanding. It jolted you back to the night before, the way he seemed to just thrust you through the night. The dress, the drinks, the men, the guns…

You sat up, your panties crooked on your hips. You muttered and swiped away the messages. You weren’t seeing him again. You couldn’t. You had stuck your toe in too deep already. It was best to nip these things in the bud. Not to let yourself get dragged in so far you couldn’t see the surface. 

Peter was more than mysterious; he was dangerous.

You went to the kitchen and waited for the machine to grind as the scent of coffee filled your heavy body. You drank too much, did too much. You still felt Peter’s hand between your legs. It made your chest tight and your head spin. You looked down at your body, the red dress wrinkled and askew.

You left the coffee to brew and retreated to your room. You tore off the dress and your panties. You pulled on a cotton shirt and loose pajama pants. You stormed back into the kitchen and shoved the clothing in the bin. You snatched your phone from the counter and swiped up the lock screen.

‘Sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out.’ You typed. Your hand shook as you hovered over send. You heard Halle’s door and you pressed your thumb down. You looked up at her before you pulled up the block option.

“How was your night?” She asked as she inhaled the aroma of your morning ritual.

“Eh, you know, another dead end,” you pushed your thumb down and the conversation disappeared. “Just not my type.”

“Really?” She whined. “He seemed so nice. And he liked you so much.”

You blackened your screen and placed your phone face down. “Well, you know, things don’t always turn out.” You shrugged and pulled out a mug, “You want some?”

“Are you at least going to tell me about it?” She pouted. “And yes, lots of sugar.”

You poured her coffee and handed her the sugar dish. You frowned at how much powder she scooped into her cup but it was her most endearing trait. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what anyone thought.

“Uh, well, it wasn’t anything special. He took me to a party but… I don’t know. What kind of first date is that? Take me somewhere I don’t know anyone…” You ran your finger around the rim of your cup. “Maybe when I was younger but now.”

“You sound like such an old lady,” she snickered, “Oh my god!” She stood straight, “Are we old?”

“I am, but you’ll always be young at heart, Hal,” you rolled your eyes.

“So you’re not going to try a second?” She prodded.

“I don’t think so,” you cradled your mug, “He… hasn’t even messaged me back.” 

You hated lying but Halle had gotten you into this mess and you knew she’d harp on you for not even giving Peter a chance. But you had. He wasn’t what he seemed and you didn’t want to stick around and find out what exactly he was hiding.

“What?” She huffed. “Well, fuck him then.” She sipped from her coffee and her lips curved as she swallowed. “Wait, did you…”

“Hal, come on,” you snipped.

“Oh, fine, but you know, maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” She teased.

“Not this again,” you groaned and slid your phone off the counter. “You know what, I got work to do.”

“Uh huh,” she hummed as you turned to leave, “Work. When did you get so old and boring?”

“One of us had to,” you called back over your shoulder, “And we both know you’re never growing up.”

✨

Your phone was pleasantly still for the rest of the day. You felt a twinge of guilt having blocked Peter but then you recalled the men and their holsters. You found your mind drifting away from your work and your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought back. 

The company he kept added to the uneasiness in your chest. Steve was friendly but arrogant. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, what was it he introduced you as, “Peter’s girl”. And that man, Bucky. He didn’t seem too fond of Peter but the way he’d grinned at you, as if he knew something you didn’t. Well, he did, they all did. Your head stormed as you tried to figure out their secret.

You shook off the curdling paranoia and hunched as you squinted closer at your computer. You made yourself focus as you skimmed the tight font and added your suggestions in the margin. You sent off your edited draft as your stomach groaned; empty and churning from the acidic coffee.

You grabbed your phone and your mug as you stood. You checked the time. Almost noon. You grumbled and went back to the kitchen, thankfully empty as Halle had left for work an hour ago. You set your cup down and expanded your notifications. A single phone call from a private number and a new follower on your mostly empty Insta.

You opened the neglected app and hit the notification. The profile was emptier than yours. the profile pic was just black and there were no posts. The name gave you no hints as it was obviously generated by the site. 

You went back and a comment popped up on the picture of your and Halle at last year's winter market. ‘Gorgeous, Princess.’ You read and reread the two words as you leaned against the counter. You bit your fingertips and went back to the mysterious profile. You hit ‘block’ and locked your phone.

Surely, he’d get the hint sooner or later. It was one date and the man seemed to have no trouble with women. He’d move on and you’d both forget about that off putting night. You just had to wait him out.

✨

A week rolled by as you kept yourself busy with your work. The phone calls stopped after the first day and you had no more peculiar alerts awaiting you. Your plan had worked. It wasn’t exactly the best; it was a bit cowardly, actually. Yet, knowing how Peter was and how ‘no’ seemed beyond his vocabulary, you had more faith in your evasion than his understanding.

As the weekend approached, Halle convinced you to come out with the girls. You had eluded those opportunities for the past year as you found yourself disillusioned and disinterested in the club scene. You felt as if you were aging out of it and seeing all those fresh-faced coeds assured you of it. Even so, the girls liked to dance and in their words, you need to ‘let loose’.

You couldn’t disagree. You had been on edge and the mounting emails in your inbox didn’t ease the stress of everything else.

With a pre-drink burning a whole in your stomach, you pulled on a pair of flats as your bag hung across your chest. You were comfortable but not stuffy in your tight jeans and the bright pink top with the criss-cross straps. You felt pretty good and the vodka made you optimistic.

You headed down to the street and caught a cab. The dread evaporated the closer you got and as you pulled up to the front of the flashing club, Molly and Desiree waved at your approach. The four of you joined the line as you searched out your ID.

“So,” Molly said, “Halle told us about your little date!”

“Date?” You blinked. “Oh, yeah, that didn’t pan out.”

“Of course,” Desiree scoffed, “That guy was so cute though.”

“Yeah, he was nice, but we just didn’t…”

“He’s ghosting her!” Halle interjected, “Didn’t even text the next day, ugh.”

Halle crossed her arms and you nodded. You weren’t going to correct her, you didn’t need the other two piling on about your dormant love life. You came out to have a good time, that’s what they promised you, and you didn’t want to think about the night that still stood so vividly in your mind.

As you stepped up to the bouncer, he barely looked at your card. You were almost offended as he waved you through and carded the next party more closely. You glanced around at your friends but they hardly seemed bothered. Well, only Halle had reached that big three-o with you, and the other two girls still had a year or two to go.

Madonna’s voice pumped from the speakers as you neared the bar. You looked around at the streaming lights and the bodies shadowed in the strobe. You were surprised you recognized the song and you nudged Desiree as she waited for Molly to order the first round.

“What’s up with the music?” You asked.

“It’s retro night! Duh! Just for you!” She giggled and you elbowed her harder.

Molly turned and passed out the plastic cups with their thin straws and you followed Halle to the low stage where the smoke machine billowed. You coughed at the taste of the fog and sucked on your straw. You began to sway as the other girls led the charge. You could help but be enlivened by the deep base and the energy all around.

As you danced, the girls yelled back and forth about their recent drama. Desiree’s date had been more successful than your own, Molly was certain she was in love with Charlie? You still didn’t know. And Halle was just riding the vibe.

You finished your drink and the other girls stacked their cups in yours before you crossed the stage to leave the garbage on the table just beside the platform. 

You looked over at the bar, pondering another, and your eye was caught by a figure who seemed out of place. The cut of his suit, the way he leaned on hand on a stool, and the intense gaze sent in your direction startled you.

You blinked and stumbled over to the single step down to the floor. You pushed through the bodies, nearly tumbling as a tipsy guy crashed into you. You got to the bar and looked up and down it. Girls waved their hands to get the bar tender’s attention and guys sidled up to them. 

Bucky was gone. It was him. Maybe the air was filled with smoke and the lights were flashing like a siren, but you were certain. Why was he there? How had he found you among the city? Among the reverie in that club? Why had he been watching you? And where had he gone?

You went to where you’d seen him and searched the perimeter of the bar. You went back through the club and slipped past those just getting in. You tapped on the bouncer’s shoulder and he grumbled before he turned and bent to hear you. “What is it?”

“Did you see a guy in a suit leave? Dark hair and--”

“There’s a lot of people here,” he shrugged you off.

You snarled and turned back. You got ahead of the flood of new arrivals and fought your way back to the three girls on the stage. As you walked up, Halle pouted and grabbed your elbow. “Boo, we thought you were getting another round.”

“No, no, I…” you squirmed and tried to get back into the rhythm, “I had to use the restroom.”

“Well, how about now? Wanna refill the tank?” She jibed.

“Uh, sure,” you picked at the purse. “Be right back.”

“Make mine a double,” Molly called after you. “Thanks.”

✨

Despite drowning yourself in alcohol, you barely slept and when you did, you were back in the club, staring at a man you never expected to see again. You wondered if maybe you’d imagined it or if Peter had sent him after you or if it was someone else and you were just tipsy and blind. Whatever it was, you couldn’t shake the foreboding that followed you into the next morning.

Your Saturday was painful and lazy. You spent your hangover on the couch and barely saw Halle as she cowered in the dim light of her room. You fell asleep there and dragged yourself to bed just before nine. You really were old, or at least, getting there.

Sunday slapped you in the face after another night of disjointed dreams. Peter and the room full of men, Bucky at the bar, and static in between. Responsibility called you from your mattress and you cleaned up and dressed for your weekly trip to the grocery store. 

As you came out, Halle was glaring at her phone. “What’s up?” You asked as you shoved your wallet in your purse. “You coming to the store?”

“I got called in for one.” She pouted. “Tell me why I fucked that asshole?”

“Shit, Hal, I’m sorry. Well, I’ll just do the shop myself.” You frowned, “Let you get ready to deal with all that.”

“It’s all because he fucking texted me on Friday and drunk me decided to reply and then… urgh, why do I do this?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me?” You grinned.

“Oh, please go before I throw this at you,” she shook her phone, “And don’t forget my oat milk.”

“Whole milk?” You asked as you slipped your shoes on, “Got it.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Alright, alright. Hopefully I catch you before you go,” you stood and grabbed your keys from the hook. “Have fun with Mr. Bossman.”

“Shut up,” she buried her head in her hands, “Oh my god!”

You tried not to laugh as you left. You felt bad for her as you didn’t know what you’d do in her situation. Looking for a new job had been her first thought but the market was never very good and the man who was driving her away, wasn’t exactly a shining reference.

You took your usual route to the grocer. You had your list on your phone and loaded your cart. You filled the reusable bags and set off for a very inconvenient subway ride home. Your arms screamed as you carried the load up your street and struggled to find your keys at the door. The elevator was too slow and you ended up hauling it all up the stairs. You were out of breath as you got to your apartment.

You turned the knob just a little and kicked open the door. You stomped in and dropped the bags. “So, I got your damn milk--” You stopped short as your voice collided with Halle’s. She was already dressed for work but her braids were still loose. She stood behind the couch as she talked to your unexpected visitor.

“Oh, there she is,” she said snappily, “I wouldn’t blame her for kicking you out but I’ll leave it up to her.” Halle turned to you, “Look who’s here. Only took him a week to come around.”

“Hal,” you said softly as you set the bags down. “What--” You lowered your voice, “Why’d you let him in?”

“So he can apologize to you,” she huffed loudly and passed you to close the door, “Don’t you worry, I still gotta finish getting ready so you have lots of time to hear him out.” She looked at him sharply.

“Really, it’s…” You gulped as you peeked over at Peter. He sat calmly in the chair as he watched you. “Yeah, okay.”

She marched into her room and as her door closed, you reluctantly approached the back of the couch where your roommate had just stood. You stared at Peter, uncertain what to say. You hadn’t been prepared for this; for him to be there in your apartment, your home.

“Peter,” you ran your hands over the couch cushions.

“You lie to everyone you know?” He asked. “As I recall, I’m not the one who’s been… ‘ghosting’, as your friend says.”

“I…” You shifted and picked at the seam, “Look, I told you it wasn’t going to work--”

“You barely gave me a chance. Gave us a chance,” he said as he pushed his legs apart. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Well, you know, I have work and it’s just not a good time for me right now.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but--”

“Ha, princess, I don’t hurt so easy,” he smirked, “Why don’t you sit down and we can talk properly… finally.”

You scratched your brow and cleared your throat. “I don’t think we need to do that.”

Your voice trailed off as Halle opened her door again. She swept out and you waited as she scooped her purse off the counter and sidestepped the groceries still sat on the floor.

“Gotta go,” she sang, “I’ll see you after work.” She stopped by the door as she wiggled into her heels, “Let me know how you deal with… him.”

“See ya,” you said quietly and watched her go. You looked back at Peter slowly as he chuckled.

“What did you tell her about me?” He wondered.

“Nothing. Really.” You said. “I have your jacket. You want it back--”

“Sit,” he gestured to the couch. “We’ll worry about that later.”

“No. Peter, please. I’m just not interested, okay?”

“You seemed pretty interested in the car,” he purred, “Seemed real interested.”

“I…” You looked at the wall and squirmed. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You were asking for it in that dress,” he intoned. “Now,” his movement drew your eye as he reached into his jacket, “I don’t like playing things like this.” He pulled the pistol from its holster and rested it on the arm of the chair, his hand firm on the handle. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk.”

You stared at the gun. Your blood burned hot and you felt blindly as you came around the couch and dropped down. Your eyes never left the muzzle. Would he use it on you?

“Oh, princess, don’t you worry, I’m just getting comfortable.” He taunted. “Now, I’ve been tryna figure out where I went wrong. I got you a pretty dress, I took you to a nice party, I fed you champagne, and I even gave you a little dessert,” he mused and his lip curled, “So I gotta confess I’m confused as you why you’ve been hiding from me.”

You were paralyzed. You clutched your knees and gritted your teeth. You didn’t know what to say. You’d convinced yourself that you’d never see him again. Your method was tried and trued, at least, when it was used against you.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me. I really would prefer the truth.” His finger slid along the short barrel as he spoke. “So?”

“I… Peter, I don’t think that we would, uh, work out. Look, I don’t like guns and…” Your lashes fluttered, “I don’t really know that I wanna be around someone who carries one. Not too mention, your friends--”

“My friends. Princess, your mine. They won’t touch you.” He raised his chin. “They’re not that bold.”

You were silent. Your heart pulsed loudly and you took a breath. You stood cautiously and crossed your arms. “Peter, we talked. I told you my reasons. I think you should… go.” You said as firmly as you could.

He laughed again. His cheek twitched and the smile fell away from his face. He rose slowly and turned his gun to tuck it away under his jacket. His eyes never left you as he did.

“You really want me to go?” He asked.

You nodded and held your breath. “Yes.”

He threw his hands out and clapped them against his pants. He shook his head and crossed the room. You turned to watch him as he passed and suddenly, you were thrust towards him. His hand was on the back of your neck as he pulled you against him. He held you tightly and you felt his gun poking through his jacket.

He grinned, his lips only an inch from yours. “I’m going, princess, but not without you.”

“Let go of me!” You struggled with him. “Get off!”

“Princess,” he warned as his fingers dug into your neck, “Settle down.”

“No, I told you to go.” You hissed as you grabbed his wrist. “Please.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said, “You don’t tell me what to do. Even if it gets me hard.” He crushed his lips to your suddenly and you wrestled with him, your teeth grazing his lip before he pulled back sharply, barely escaping a bite. “You don’t wanna do that.”

His hand went to your chin and he looked you in the face. He rubbed his nose against yours and growled. You beat on his chest and he squeezed tighter.

“Shit, let’s not just rush out of here,” he released you, “You should get those away before they spoil.”

He stepped back and placed his hand on the front of his jacket, where his gun was hidden. You gaped at him and your eyes flitted to the door.

“Ah, don’t worry, we’ll be on our way soon enough,” he said, “So long as you hurry up.”

You swallowed and he moved with you as you went to the bags. He blocked the door as you pulled the straps apart and began to unpack shakily. You dropped a can and it rolled along the floor before he stopped it with his foot. He kicked it back and leaned an elbow on the door frame.

You picked it up with several other cans and went to the cupboard. You snapped the door closed as you felt around the drawer with your other hand. You heard a click and looked to Peter as he aimed his pistol at you. He tilted his head. 

“Don’t do that,” he intoned as your hand lingered just inches from the knives inside the drawer.

You went back to the spread of groceries and tried to ignore him as you put everything in its place. As you bent to fill the crisper, he purred, a sizzly ‘princess’ under his breath. You finished up and packed the bags one into the other. You left them on the counter and again, he put his gun away.

“Princess, let me tell you something,” he gripped the door handle, “I don’t take that out without using it very often so don’t press my patience.” He turned the knob slowly, “I’ve waited on you long enough.”

✨

The car ride was tense and long. Peter drove you uptown and you watched out the window helplessly. You rubbed your palms together nervously as they dampened with sweat. He’d taken your phone when you reached for it. He tossed it and it was somewhere on the floor.

He drove past the condos and the walk-ups and continued on nearly the exact path he’d taken on the momentous night. Another grand house awaited you but you remained in the seat as Peter climbed out. He opened your door and still you didn’t move. He reached across you to unbuckle the seat belt and grabbed your arm. He jerked you out onto your feet and sighed.

“Peter,” you begged, “What’s going on? Please, you’re scaring me.”

“Princess, have I done you wrong?” He asked but you didn’t answer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me right now,” you wriggled your arm and he shoved you ahead of him.

“In,” he demanded as you stumbled up the rounded steps. “Now.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. You crossed the marble floor of the foyer as he directed you from behind. He followed at a pace, close enough that you couldn’t flee. Even if you did, you wouldn’t make it far.

“Pete,” the voice startled you and you stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase. Bucky stood in a doorway to your left. His gaze moved from you to Peter and back again. “I didn’t realise you brought company.”

“You’re still here?” Peter snipped.

“Was I supposed to leave?” He sneered. “You got me and Steve running around and you’re gonna kick us to the curb.”

“You don’t look very busy to me,” Peter growled and neared to rest his hand on your lower back. He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Upstairs, turn left, the room at the very end. I don’t like hide and seek, you got me?”

You nodded and looked at Bucky again. His mouth slanted knowingly and his tongue poked out for just a moment. You turned up the stairs and left Peter behind. You reached the top and listened for a moment to his muffled voice.

“You and Steve do your fucking job and leave me alone. Understand. I don’t want to be bothered.” Peter snarled.

“Oh, I wouldn’t wanna be interrupted either,” Bucky snickered. “Not with her.”

“Go,” Peter barked. “Now.”

“Ay, you might be Tony’s man but you still gotta watch yourself,” Bucky warned. “This little arrangement isn’t gonna last forever…”

You went to your left and to the door at the end, like he said. You entered and couldn’t help but gasp at the immense bedroom. The black and white decor was expertly matched in marbles and exotics woods, plush velvet and polished sconces. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury.

You didn’t close the door. You glanced around dumbly and stood in one spot as you feared you might break something. You wrung your hands as you heard the steady footsteps and you spun as Peter entered. He looked even more agitated as he cracked his knuckles.

“Sorry about that, Princess,” he said, “Now where were we?” His eyes roved the room as he thought, “Ah, yes, an apology.”

“Apology. I…”

“Should I close the door?” He raised a brow, “You’d be surprised how sound carries in here.”

You frowned and he laughed as he swung the door shut. He neared you and bit the tip of his tongue as he considered you. His brown eyes bore into you and you took a step back. He stayed near and caught your wrist. His other hand fumbled with his belt and he let out a slow breath through his nose.

“Princess, I’d love to treat you how you deserve but you gotta be good to me too.” He pulled on your arm and twisted as you tried to resist. You hissed and he pushed your hand against his crotch. “I don’t forgive easy but I’m sure you can change that.”

“Don’t... don’t make me do this,” you uttered.

“Oh, but princess, you did this,” he pressed your hand around his bulge. “You take care of me and I’ll do the same.”

You parted your lips to argue and he grabbed the back of your head. He kissed you roughly and guided your hand to the top of his boxers. He slid your fingers under the elastic and urged you on, wrapping your fingers around his dick with a groan.

He squeezed until you gripped him firmly. He led your hand up and down as he held you to him, his hot breath filling you as it picked up. He forced his tongue into your mouth and you clawed at his jacket as he kept your other hand around him. He parted from your mouth at last and pressed his cheek to yours.

“Keep going, princess,” he purred as he slowly withdrew his hand from around yours. “You don’t wanna use your hand, I might think of something else.”

You quivered and slid your hand up and down his length. He nuzzled your neck and nibbled as he moaned against your skin. You could only move your hand as you stood against him stunned and rigid. He gripped your waist as you felt him tense and he murmured hungrily.

“Oh, princess,” he breathed and pushed his pelvis against your hands as he came. 

You felt the slick heat seep down your hand and slowed until he was breathless. He stilled your hand with his and carefully eased your hand from his pants. He stood straight and eyed your glistening fingers.

“Shit,” he swore as he caressed your cheek, “You made a mess of this suit.” He dropped his hand to the front of his pants as he smiled. He inhaled and pushed his shoulders back. “I forgive you, Princess.”

[kaunis-sielu]

Blackbird: End

Being with Steve isn’t always easy but it is always worth it. He makes you feel like a queen, at first the attention had made you uncomfortable but it was one of the ways Steve showed you he loved you. You won’t say that the last eight months have been easy either, they haven’t. Brock had left you with more trauma than you’d realized and it had taken you several weeks of just tries to get back on the stage. You’re still refusing private dances, not that anyone is asking now that it’s well known you’re Steve’s girl.

Steve had come in one night, after being away on business, slapped a hundred on the stage and when you’d come to grab it, with a healthy eye roll in his direction, he’d pulled you in for a demanding kiss. When one of the bouncers, Drax had come storming up you’d had to calm everyone down. Word had travelled quickly and now your private dances tended to be just Steve checking in on you and the other girls.

You had to completely gut your brownstone but after some convincing Steve helped you rebuild. You said it was a place that you and Ada could go with Carol in times of turmoil that no one knew about. Especially now that Hydra and Brock were gone. Maybe you’ll give up the brownstone someday but for now it’s nice to have.

Steve has been out of town for business again, somewhere down south you think, and he’s coming home tonight. It’s been over a week and you’ve missed him. You know he’ll be home late so you don’t worry about staying at work late to get some final things taken care of. Payroll usually takes forever and when your system doesn’t boot right away you drop your head onto the desk with a soft groan.

“Stupid piece of shit.” You grumble from where your face is pressed to the desk.

“Is that anyway to greet the love of your life?” Steve teases from the doorway.

“Considering my payroll system is not the love of my life, yes.” You say with your face still down on your desk. When you lift your head Steve is grinning at you, he’s got a dark purple bruise on his jawbone and is favoring the right side of his body. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, just a little tussle darlin’ come here.”

“You come here. I’m working.” You challenge him, you want to see if you’re right about how injured he is.

“Honey.” You fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair leveling him with a glare. “You’re not being very nice.”

“Oh but it was just a tussle, you’re fine.” You challenge him and he glares at you. “Well?”

“You’re such a brat.” He growls and you laugh softly.

“Yea, but you love me.” You tell him with a smirk, you wait another five seconds before putting him out of his misery and stand up and make your way to him. Before he can kiss you you grab the edge of his shirt and pull it up. “Oh my god Steve!” He’s all black and blue up the left side of his body.

“I’m fine Honey.”

“Have you seen a doctor? What if one of your ribs is broken and you’re bleeding out! Or it’s cracked and it’s going end up killing you. Oh my god! We need to go to the doctor!”

“Honey, hey Honey, it’s okay.” He takes your hands and pulls his shirt back down before taking your face in his hands and kisses you softly. “I’m okay Honey. I’m okay.” He mutters between kisses.

“You’re going to the doctor.”

“I’m okay.”

“I am not budging on this one.” He sighs heavily but you’re not budging. You’ll have time to do payroll tomorrow.

After you go to the doctor Steve gets x-rays done and it turns out he has three broken ribs.

“Thank you for humoring me.” You tell him from where you’re curled against him in the back of the car Bucky is driving. “What in the world happened?”

“Honey do you really want to know?”

“Just tell me if it’s something I need to be worried about.”

“Not anymore Sweetheart.” He says brushing his fingertips over the skin of your arm.

“Okay,” you hum glancing up at him you see the bruise on his jaw, “I hate that you got hurt.” You tell him brushing the bruising gently with your fingertips. It’s rare that you see him hurt, it’s like he’s always seemed bulletproof and this is a rude wake up call that he’s not.

“It’s gonna happen sometimes.”

“I know. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.” You grumble back and he laughs softly.

“No, it doesn’t.” He agrees, “you know what would make it better though?”

“What’s that?”

“A kiss.”

“You want me to kiss your owies Rogers?” You tease and he hums,

“I’ve heard that the best way to heal them is kissin’ right here.” He points at his lips and you laugh again.

“When we get home and you’ve got ice on your side I’ll make sure to help speed your healing along.”

“Oh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as Bucky pulls into the garage.

“Not like that you perv!” You laugh, “honestly that might do you more bad than good. But we can make out like horny teenagers if you want.” You promise him as you both climb out of the car.

“Honey that’s not even a question.” Steve says looping his right arm around your shoulders.

“You guys are gross.” Bucky says before dodging a halfhearted attempt at a blow from Steve.

“He’s just jealous.” You tell Steve and you hear Bucky yell,

“Ha!” From the stairwell. You ride the elevator up in silence, Steve tries to get a kiss but you stop him.

“Ice, bed, then kissing.”

“Can we add dinner into that?”

“Of course. I’ll cook, you rest.” You tell him, you dig out some some ice and order him to the couch. As you cook you check on him and every time he’s looking at you with a soft smile on his face. “Okay, what has gotten into you?” You ask as you join him on the couch after dinner.

“You’re so good to me.” He tells you kissing the back of your hand.

“That’s what a relationship is. You had me with the whole Brock shit the least I can do is take care of you now.”

“I’m just glad you’ve decided to stick around.”

“Honestly, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Tag list:

@andahugaroundtheneck @connie326 @also-fangirlinsweden @lumar014 @loving-life-my-way @pagina16ps @emdying @dumblani @valsworldofcreativity @blackwidownat2814 @sky0401 @dontbescaredtosingalong @fanatic434 @abschaffer2

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.2)

Title: Lost in Zero Gravity (Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,072 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Song inspo for this fic

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You must have made a really good first impression,” Tatiana commented, blowing out a ring of smoke. Her charcoal lined eyes creased with her pleased smile.

You shrugged, “I was just working.”

“Don’t try to be modest now. It’s not becoming on you,” she laughed in response.

She had called you into her office to tell you that you had been specifically requested for an assignment. It seemed Tony and Steve’s mob were going to be taking a vacation and they wanted you available. You were not one to turn down a paid vacation, especially if they were going to be there. As dangerous as they were, they had been a good fuck and Tony had made sure to get you off. That was far more than probably eighty percent of the people you had been with since you started working the service.

You hated the smell of the cigarette smoke and it was always the hovering stench in her office. She was going to kill herself far too young and maybe shave a few years off your life in return for however she made you stand in here. You adored her, there was no doubt about that. But you wished she would kick the habit.

“Where are they going?” you asked, feigning that you were contemplating about refusing the assignment.

“Riviera Maya.” You narrowed your eyes and she said, “It’s in Mexico.”

An inclusive resort no doubt. It could be fun. Maybe you could ask someone to travel with you so you would not be completely alone when they were not wanting to bed you. Or maybe not… some time alone might do you well.

Tatiana added, “Wives are going to be there though.”

“So, why am I gonna be there?” you asked honestly.

Tatiana snorted, “Oh, stellina.” She took another deep inhale exhaling as she said, “There are so many things there to keep the spouses occupied. They’re rarely together except for dinner. It’s just for appearances.”

Rich people’s lives sounded exhausting.

“You just need to be out in the open, keeping yourself available for them whenever they have an opportunity to slip away and have some fun with you. Otherwise, just keep yourself occupied with the beach and nice drinks. I know you hate suntanning but there are shops to poke around in. I know you like shopping.”

“That I do.”

“Maybe they’ll give you extra.”

“I don’t want to go around trying to get greedy.”

Tatiana smirked at that. “That’s my girl. I trained you well.”

<><><>

Pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, you hopped up onto one of the barstools on the bar you had just walked by and circled back to. You had yet to see either Tony or Steve and you had been here since yesterday. The place was relaxing and the room was great. You had basically sunk into the bed, having one of the best nights of sleep you had had in a long while without any noise from Elisha in her room along your wall back home. Leaning over the counter, you asked for a strawberry lemonade.

“Strawberry lemonade? It’s a party, dollface.”

You recognized that voice and you straightened back up, turning your head to look in his direction.

Steve was standing there, leaning on the counter. He was a sight for sore eyes. He was only in swim trunks, aviator glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. That did not hide the fact you knew his eyes were running unabashedly over your body. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him, thinking of how he handled you last time.

“I bought this specifically for this vacation,” you said, hopping down from the stool and turning around for him to let him see the whole suit. When you turned back around, he was grinning. “It looks good right?”

He nodded, “You look damn sexy.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“My wife is here,” Steve said, and you frowned instantly at this immediate change in conversation. Was he trying to kill the mood so quickly? He said, “I know. She’s got her little masseuse guy here to keep her entertained, so I should be able to have my own fun. But I’m trying to be good.”

Picking up on his hint, you sauntered towards him. Your hand came up, resting on his chest. “Why do you have to be good if she isn’t being good?”

“I had to hold it in until she ran off,” he told you.

You pulled his sunglasses down to see his eyes, keeping them on the bridge of his nose. You smiled when you were able to actually meet his gaze.

“Well, when do you get to not be good?”

“Right now,” he said and you smiled in response. “It’s why I came and found you. I saw you yesterday. Wandering around. Took everything in me to not come up to you. Looked like you found yourself a nice little boyfriend though?”

“He was trying really hard but no… no dice for that guy,” you told him.

You pushed his glasses back up and your arms wrapped around his neck. He grinned back at you, his fingers tracing along your exposed back.

“I’m assuming you’re liking what you’re seeing?”

“Very much,” he murmured, his fingers playing with the hem of your suit.

You nuzzled your nose to his. “Hmm. So we know where this is going?”

<><><>

You stood in front of the mirror, completely bare. Steve had brought you back to their villa. Tony’s wife was gone, off to a spa treatment. The room had a wide door open to the patio overlooking the ocean. There was a hot tub and pool on the patio and although you wanted to indulge, you refrained. You got undressed for them instead, waiting for them to get antsy enough to take charge. It did not take long as you predicted.

Tony came up from behind you, nude as well. His hands ran across your breasts, cupping.

“Don’t you look marvelous…” he murmured, his fingers tweaking at your erect nipples. You bucked ever so slightly, and he smirked. His nose came to nuzzle into the nape of your neck. “I knew I chose right… a perfect gem.”

“You still seem to like what you’re seeing?”

He chuckled, one hand snaking down to toy with the top of your sex.

“You’re gonna look even better underneath that mirror.”

You turned in his arms, your forehead pressing against his. “A man that likes to review his work. I don’t know if I should be worried.”

“I didn’t get to where I am by being a half ass.”

Steve was at your other side and he enveloped you to him. To both of them, you asked, “Any critiques?”

“Loaded question,” Steve chuckled. “I mean, the biggest is you haven’t sunk one of your holes on either of us. I mean, it’s been a whole five minutes. What’s the hold up?”

“Sorry, I was enjoying the company.”

He kissed the tip of your nose lightly, “And I’m sorry for being so charismatic.”

“I’m assuming you can’t multitask then? Be charismatic and fuck me at the same time?”

A low growl left his mouth now, “You’ve got a mouth on you.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at fucking all,” he told you pulling you over to the bed.

Steve was looking upwards, and you knew he was taking in the sight of you hovering over him as you sunk onto his length in the ceiling mirror. His eyes were swimming with arousal and you hoped to always be the cause for that.

<><><>

“Y/N, you got a gift,” Wendy said, pointing at the table as you walked into the brothel’s kitchen. You had come in to get a drink but smiled seeing the bouquet and gift.

“Really?” you asked, letting your backpack fall from your shoulder and along with your carry-on drop to the ground. You had just gotten back from Mexico; that was quick if it was from who you thought it was. Upon seeing the flowers, you knew your assumption had been correct. They had asked you what your favorite flowers were and even though that was extremely obvious why they were asking, you had told them all the same.

The bouquet was large and there was a nice heart balloon in the center. You smiled, leaning in and smelling the flowers deeply.

“Where’d you get those from?” Elisha asked, coming into the kitchen. You shrugged, smiling sheepishly, and she rolled her eyes, giving a little laugh, “I know exactly where those came from.”

“There’s also this,” you said picking up the gift bag from beside it, waving it at her.

“That’s dangerous,” Elisha commented, grabbing the bloody mary that Wendy had made her. They must have had a rough night.

You shrugged again, opening the bag. Your lips curled into a smile as you pulled out a bright blue teddy. “Cute,” you giggled. Elisha and Wendy shook their heads, taking a drink. You held it up against your body and asked, “Think they want me to wear it for next time?”

“I don’t think they bought it for shits and giggles,” Wendy snorted. “How was the trip?”

“It was nice.”

“Good to hear it. You should relish in this.”

“Oh, I am,” you said, putting the teddy back into the bag. You thought of the extra money that Steve had tucked into your bag, remembering that you should tuck that away. It was smarter to not spend all the money that was thrown at you. That is what fools did; you needed to think ahead.

<><><>

The dress was loose and casual, perfect for the saloon they had asked you to meet them at. They had sent a car for you and met you at the curbside. When you got out, you looked around, cocking an eyebrow at the sight of them dressed in nice, pressed jackets. You were going into a dive bar, what were they doing?

Tony took your arm, Steve trailing behind. “Hmm, a sun pattern,” Tony commented, his fingers pulling at the fabric of your dress.

You gripped his arm, smiling. “I like to be a shining beacon in people’s lives.”

Tony chuckled in response, his grip tightening on your waist. The bouncer did not ask for your IDs; they must know them. It was dimly lit, packed. There were dancers on the stage and your eyes were drawn to their movements. The woman dancing had curves to die for.

“Where we going?” you asked as they led you through the bar. Your eyes ran around the tables the further you went in. Did they have a reservation?

“For the real party, sweetheart,” Tony told you, his lips brushing your ear. You shivered at the touch.

It was dark back here and you tensed. Tony felt it, a light chuckle leaving his lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I got you.”

Two men were standing in front of a door and they opened it when they saw the three of you approaching. There was a table with a group of other men, looking like they were waiting for the three of you. There were a handful of other women sitting around the perimeter of the room behind the players. They made brief eye contact with you, sizing you up quickly before averting their eyes again.

“Took you fucking long enough,” one of them drawled at Tony and Steve.

“Sorry, we were waiting for our lucky dame,” Tony returned.

Tony kissed your hand as you sat, before he turned away and sat in his chair. Steve’s hand grazed you affectionately, before he sat down as well.

You sat quietly, watching them play. It was poker, that much you knew. It was intense, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. They were taking this seriously and you surmised they were gambling a bunch of money.

Steve was staring across the table at the first man who had spoken to them when they walked in, his eyes narrowed. The other man was not flinching but something must have been a tell for Steve because he pushed chips forward.

“Well, senator… I’m gonna raise you,” Steve commented.

Your heart stopped a bit, hearing him call him that. Your eyes narrowed at the man across the table. You did not pay attention to politics but the way the man’s face scrunched at Steve’s tone… you knew he had to be one. A senator. What had you let them drag you into?

The man chewed on his lip before throwing his cards down on the table without showing what they were.

Steve’s mouth broke into a wide grin and he held out his hands.

“Fuck you, Rogers,” the man snarled before getting up from the table. He buttoned his suit jacket, leaving the room without a second glance.

“Sore loser,” Steve commented, much to the amusement of the other men at the table to your surprise. You thought they would be more angry about losing the money they had but maybe the man had been a common enemy.

They gathered up the chips, tossing them into a bag. Tony’s hand snaked around your waist.

“Wanna spend this?” Tony asked, grinning broadly, holding the bag up to you as he guided you towards the door. You giggled and he kissed your cheek. “Steve’s treated us. But especially you, baby.”

<><><>

Pulling your dress back on over your head, you straightened it, making sure it was covering your ass. It was short and you did not need to be flashing anyone on the sidewalk.

“You sure you don’t want me to order you a cab…?” the man asked from behind you, taking a long drag on his joint. He was still lying in bed, watching you get dressed.

Confidently, you turned around, fluffing your hair. You shook your head, “It’s not too far. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a tough cookie,” he said, shooting you a smile.

“I try to be,” you said winking at him, grabbing your purse.

You left his place quickly, heading back to the brothel. It was not a lie, it was not far.

The distance did not matter though when it came to what was waiting for you outside.

A hand closed around your arm, yanking you into an alley. You screamed but another hand slapped across your mouth as you were slammed up against the wall. Your heart was pounding, your eyes wide in fear staring at your assailant.

Your fear melted away to a mixture of anger and disgust. You would recognize those hazel eyes anywhere. You had stared into them far too many times as he towered over you, beating you into submission. You had run away from them far too many times, locking yourself in the bedroom until he got tired of trying to beat the door down.

Garnering strength from a place you did not know existed, you shoved him away, much to his surprise. He did not expect you to fight back, and he stumbled back.

“Have you been fucking following me?” you demanded, your chest heaving.

“Just interested to see what you’ve been doing since you ran off. Looks like you are visiting a bunch of men,” Jared sneered at you, getting back on his game and closing the space between you. Your fists clenched by your sides and he noticed, smirking. “You gonna hit me?”

“No,” you spat.

“So, what’s got you leaving someone’s apartment this time of night, baby?”

“That is none of your business.”

He shoved you back into the wall and you winced against the cement scratching at your skin. You swallowed it though, clenching your jaw, glaring at him. You were acting far braver than you felt. Jared always had the power to make you feel small and weak and it seemed just his presence had that same power. You felt just as helpless as you did a year and a half ago. He was frightening; you knew what violence he could unleash.

“What’s this?” Jared asked, yanking at your purse.

“Nothing, it’s my purse!” you said, your hands closing around it to try to yank it back from him.

“Looks pretty expensive, Y/N… Marc Jacobs? What have you been up to?”

He gave another hard yank, and the chain broke and you hissed against the pressure against your shoulder as it snapped away from you. You reached for it and he shoved you back again, harder this time and you let out a pained noise. Your eyes searched the buildings that surrounded you, hoping someone would be looking out the windows and be able to come to help you. It looked like no such luck.

He yanked out the hundreds the man you had just left had given you.

His eyes were dark, glowering at you. “Where’d you get this?”

“From work!”

His backhand was swift, knocking you off balance. But he was there to catch your falling momentum only to slam you up against the wall for the third time, his forearm pressed into your throat. You gasped, trying to breathe.

“You left me to spread your legs all over the city?”

“What are you talking about?” you exclaimed pitifully, trying to deny it. Your hands clawed at his arm and he only pressed in harder, making you gasp more desperately.

“I saw you go into that building with that man. Yes, I was following you! And you come back out with all this money? I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were a worthless slut.”

Tears pricked at your eyes and he growled, “You always did cry too soon for my liking.”

Your purse fell to the ground and his other hand reached up between your legs. You tried to fight him, and he socked you this time. Your head knocked against the wall and you saw stars.

Jared pushed away and you crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. You squeezed your eyes tightly, trying to gain back some sense of balance.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout from far off.

All you could see was Jared’s shoes coming in and out of your vision. You felt a sharp pain in your stomach making you lose all your breath before his shoes were gone. You blinked again before losing consciousness as you saw a new pair of shoes come into your line of sight.

~~~

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