#or did roger just suggest another crazy idea of his? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abbatoirablaze · 8 months ago

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Deal With The Devil, Chapter 3

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of aggression/violence, throwing things at people.

“Well, Stark…it sounds like you have a deal!” Steve smiled, downing his own drink. The two men shook hands and Inez huffed from the bar.

“So, what now?” she growled, “we get married by a JP or have a big gigantic wedding where everyone pretends to get along?”

Steve looked at his soon-to-be bride from across the table and he shrugged, “it depends…how do you feel about premarital sex?”

“Steve…” Tony growled, his tone becoming a warning one.

“I’m joking, Tony…come on…” Steve grinned playfully as he clapped his soon to be brother-in-law on the back, “I’ll take her virginity after we get married. I’m not an animal!”

She sneered at him, “you’re disgusting.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, “you take things too seriously, Inny…”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, her nose scrunching up at how he so easily called her by the nickname that Tony had given her when they were children, “you don’t get to call me that, Rogers.”

“Ohh, the last name,” he chuckled sarcastically, “you know, you’ll be a Rogers soon. Calling me by my last name to distance yourself won’t do much, Inez.”

“Trust me…there’s not enough distance in this planet…”

“Maybe we should let Steve and Inez get to know each other…” Pepper suggested, “have them go out on a few dates bef-“

“Pass!” Inez sneered, cutting Pepper off, “seriously? Can’t I just marry Peter? I mean it’s not like he’s your brother. He’s your cousin. There’s no relation between him and I. It’s not like we are brother and sisters-in-law.”

“Inez…you’re going to marry Steve,” Tony sighed as his hands started rubbing his temples, “I’ve already explained this. You marrying Steve will allow the three remaining original families to keep the peace in our boroughs while those idiots murder each other. I’m doing it to ensure the safety of our people. So please don’t make this harder than it has to be. Please.”

“I have to be at the club…few meetings tonight, so I can’t do any ‘dates’ per se,” Steve shrugged, “but I could move her into my place immediately…she could get the lay of the land, before I lay with her…”

“Excuse me?”

“What?” Pepper asked, “Move her in with you? Tony-“

“What did I just say about the sex jokes, Rogers?” Tony sighed.

“Don’t take it personally, or do, I don’t care,” Steve shrugged before looking at Inez once more, “but I feel like if I let you out of my sight after our lovely little engagement idea tonight, you’ll hop on the first flight you can to hide from me, my little bird. Flighty little thing…that’s the vibe I get from you!”

Tony chuckled, knowing from the look in his sister’s eye that she had been thinking exactly that. But she tried to hide the expression from her face as she shook her head at Steve, “What? That’-That’s crazy. Who would do something like that?”

“I’m good at reading people, Inez…” Steve said simply, giving his future bride a knowing look, “I helped one of my best friend’s sisters disappear because of a particularly brutal engagement. I don’t need my pretty little wife doing the same because she doesn’t like the way I speak.”

“I’m not your wife…”

“Not yet,” he admitted with another simple shrug, “but you will be. I intend on getting you to that altar…and then doing the dirtiest of things behind closed doors once you are my wife.”

She grimaced.

And Steve smiled.

Tony’s glass nearly cracked from the amount of pressure he was putting on it, trying not to reach across the table and punch the man who was talking about doing things to his sister.

“We can have Inez’ stuff packed up and sent to your home so that by the time the two of you are finished with your night out on the town it’s there,” Pepper said softly, putting her hand over Tony’s, “we can all make this work with a little effort…right?”

“Yeah…sure…”Tony grumbled.

Inez looked away from her sister-in-law, and brother, towards the man that she was going to be marrying. Steve puckered his lips and teased a kiss.

She looked away from him and to the ground, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Sounds good to me. Thank you for all of your generosity, Tony…as promised, I’ll make sure that none of my men are involved and that Brooklyn stays out of whatever fight happens between Staten Island and The Bronx.” Steve said quickly, standing from his spot at the table. He walked over to where Inez was sitting and lifted her cheek, wiping away the lone tear, “don’t cry, Inez…you are not a caged bird. And I will not harm you. You’ll see that I can be a very good husband. All joking aside, I do have some decorum.”

“You’re a self-righteous ass, Steve Rogers.”

“And soon enough I’m going to be your self-righteous ass, Inez,” he said softly, his fingers trailing down her cheek, before falling away from her face. He gave her another soft smile, before holding his hand out to her, “come on…we have to get back to the club. I have other meetings to attend to, and I want to get you settled first.”

“Are you alright?” he asked once more as another one of his generals left his office, “I could get someone to bring you a drink…or some food. I know that we didn’t have a chance to grab dinner before-“

She gave him another frown as she crossed her arms from the large couch behind and off to the side of his desk, “does it really matter what I say that I want, Steve?”

“Of course it does,” he answered with his own frown, “you’re going to be my wife, Inez. I want you to be taken care of. All jokes aside, I mean that. I really do.”

“Then don’t make me marry you…stay out of whatever war is going to happen because it’s the right thing to do.”

“But if I do that, Tony and Peter will cut me out of whatever territory doesn’t get carved up by the fighting,” he noted, “keeping you by my side ensures that they keep me in the fold. After all, you should know that. You don’t leave family out in the cold, hungry and alone. You and Tony seem close.”

“We are…”

“And it’ll stay that way,” he reminded her, “don’t be mad at your brother for what he’s doing. You know he probably could have done worse.”

“I’ve heard of you,” she admitted softly, “well, your father.”

“My father was a ruthless asshole,” he admitted with a frown, “but his results weren’t anything to be laughed at.”

“Your territory is small.”

“Small but effective…”

She nodded and gave him a guilty look as her stomach grumbled, “I-I might be a little hungry.”

“I can have the kitchen whip something up for you.”

“You aren’t going to eat?” she asked softly. Steve nearly dropped the phone that he’d picked up as he looked back at her. His brow raised and she pulled her arms tight around herself, “Wh-what?”

“Since when did you start caring about me?” he teased playfully with a scoff.

She frowned, and her cold exterior pushed back out into the room, “I don’t.”

“Says the girl who just asked if I was going to eat too.”

“As far as I know you haven’t eaten today…I mean, I didn’t see you eat anything…” she shrugged dismissively, “I was trying to be nice…dick.”

Steve chuckled, enjoying the back and forth ever so slightly, as not many in his inner circle had the audacity to be a little rough around the edges with him.

“I haven’t.”

“Well, you should…” she said simply, as though that would end the conversation, “eat I mean…”

“You know…people don’t normally do things like that for me…remind me to eat or-“

“Well, they should…mob boss or not, you’re still a human. And you still need to eat meals to survive, Steve.”

“Be careful…I might start to think that you care about me…”

“I don’t…”

“What do you want to eat, Inny?”

“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled softly, looking away from him. Steve continued to watch her for a moment, and she sighed, mumbling under her breath, “pizza…”

“Not a salad?”

Her head shot up, and her brow raised.

Steve could feel the tension lighting up the room, “if you’re one of those guys…you can cut the bullshit right now!”

“One of what guys?”

“I don’t spend my days eating nothing but salad and doing fad diets,” she hissed as her arms wrapped even tighter around herself, “and if you insinuate that I need to-“

“I’m not,” he said quickly, laughing as he cut her off, “just…most women don’t have real appetites around me…it’s refreshing…”

“You’re eating it too!” she huffed, “I want pepperoni.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve chuckled as he called downstairs, telling them he wanted a pizza and a few cokes, “anything else, my queen?”

“You could drop the sarcasm!” she commented dryly.

“Have someone pick up something that’s chocolate and extremely sweet…I think the wife might be hitting her time of the month.”

Steve almost didn’t dodge the heel that was thrown at him as he hung up his phone.

Sam wasn’t so lucky as it managed to catch him in the thigh as he opened the door.

“You have horrible aim!” Steve laughed, smirking at her.

“Well, I don’t exactly spend my time throwing things at assholes!” she growled.

“Steve, stop riling up your future wife!” Sam frowned, rubbing his thigh, “she throws those shoes really hard.”

“I’m sorry!” Inez frowned, feeling bad over hitting one of Steve’s men, when the shoe had been meant for her fiancé.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Sam shrugged, “I understand that Steve can be a lot sometimes…trust me. I grew up with him. I’ve seen women throw a lot of things at him.”

Steve frowned as Inez giggled, and he didn’t like the fact that Sam had developed such an easy back and forth with her.

“Is there something you needed, Sam?”

“Barnes has been messaging me. There hasn’t been any movement in their territory.”

Steve shrugged, “so?”

“He doesn’t want to spend any more time out there than necessary.”

“Fine,” Steve sighed, “have him pick up the pizza I ordered from downstairs and across the street for me and Inez.”

“Pizza?” Sam questioned his friend and boss, “since when do you eat pizza, boss?”

Steve frowned his brow furrowing as he answered Sam, “I eat pizza.”

“Steve, I’ve worked for you since I came up. We grew up together and I’m your second in command,” Sam chuckled, “and not once have I’ve never seen you eat anything unhealthy…let alone eat pizza.”

Inez smirked and crossed her arms, “you eat salads all the time, don’t you?”

“Steve’s diet is drinks and the occasional fruit that comes in them!” Sam chuckled, “that or the meal prepping that Barnes does for him. He’s gonna be pissed that you’re eating pizza.”

“That punk will get over it,” Steve shrugged, “have him pick it up. And I guess he can meet Inez too…all of you need to be aware of who she is and that it’s your jobs to protect her just like you’d protect me.”

“If they hate you, you’re just giving them a reason to hate me too!” she frowned.

Steve gave her a sad look as he turned to glance at her, “are you insinuating that my people don’t like me?”

“I don’t…and I’m apparently ‘your people,’ so….”

“Correction, Inez…you’re my wife. You’re not ‘my people,’ so you don’t count!”

“Correction!” she mocked, shaking her head at him, “not yet…you know you settled into the idea of being married to me pretty quickly, Steve…I guess I’m not so ugly after all.”

Sam couldn’t stop his laughter and Steve gave him another firm look, “did you need something else, Sam?”

“Oh no…I’m good,” Sam chuckled, putting his phone into his pocket after he texted Bucky about the food, “but this…this is comedic gold, right here. Your future wife is gonna keep you in line for sure.”

“You can go, Sam…thank you!” Steve frowned.

Sam gave his boss another nod before leaving the room, and Inez threw her other shoe, albeit a little softer.

It did hit Steve this time.

Right between his shoulder blades.

He turned from his chair and looked at the barefoot woman curled up on his couch. She gave him an innocent look.

“What?” he asked, slightly irritated with her.

“I’m tired…”

He huffed before taking off his suit’s jacket and tossing it beside her on the couch, “use your arm as a pillow…I’ll wake you up when the food gets here.”

“There’s no pillows or blankets, or-“

“You know, you’re awfully needy for someone who doesn’t want me or anything to do with me.”

“Yeah…well you’re-“

“I’m what…”

“I don’t know,” she huffed with a frown, “I’m tired and hungry…and not sober…leave me alone.”

“Take a nap, Inny…”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she mumbled, curling up under Steve’s jacket. He chuckled as she yawned, and she pouted from behind closed eyes, “stop laughing at me, jerk.”

Chapter 4

Tag List: @teambarnes72, @prokey16, @lohnes16

#deal with the devil #marvel #marvel au #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #mob au #mafia au #tony stark #chris evans characters #iron man

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theconstantsidekick · 3 years ago

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Power Broker (1) | b.b

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader, Past!Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Genre: Fluff with a touch of angst.

Summary: Bucky breaks out Zemo. Sam suggests they need help handling him, seeing as he can push Bucky’s buttons unlike anyone else. So they go to the only person who can handle both Bucky and Zemo, the only Stark left in the Superhero business… well kind of. Only problem is, she seems reluctant.

Warnings: None I can think of.

a/n: Alright, so I said, I’d do this if I got a 100 notes... and I did. So here this is. Essentially these are snippets of scenes that introduce y/n into the story as a character without making drastic changes. The plot points remain mostly same as they take place in The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, except that y/n is also a main character with them, if that makes sense. The rest of the MCU events stay the same as well. No drastic retcons. The previous upload was the second part to gauge reception. Here on out, I’ll be posting in order, dw. Thanks for you support. And oh, I guess the tag list is open?

Power Broker (2) | Series Masterlist

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail? Where the hell are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?” Sam shouts as both men make their way into the room with torches in their hands. Sam has no idea where they are, and the calmness that Bucky is exuding is kinda pissing him off.

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing. Sam,” Bucky shouts back.

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars,” Sam’s trying his best to reason with the geezer but he’s failing.

“And we also have eight Super Soldiers that are loose,” Bucky counters.

“Zemo's gonna mess with our minds,” He reasons, “Especially yours. No offense.”

Bucky walks over to a lever and pulls it, lighting up the abandoned workshop. Cars and equipment scattered around. “Offense” He chides, turning off his flashlight. Sam copies the motion as Bucky steps towards him, saying, “Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy, but he still has a code.” The old man walks away.

“I've been on the wrong side of that code, Buck and so have you.” Sam urges. “He blew up the UN, he killed King T'Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It's a rhetorical question. They didn't.” And Sam is terrified of the idea of having to deal with Wakandans as enemies.

Bucky finally stands in front of him, shifting his weight from one foot to another once, and then stilling.

“I know why this matters to you, but it's pushing you off the deep end.” Sam’s voice is calmer now, softer. He really does empathize. He does. But he’d rather do it any other way.

“Sam, we don't know how they're gettin' the serum. We don't even know how many of them there are.” Bucky counters, arms wide open. Sam has to look away and take a few steps forward because Grumpy is grinding his last nerve. But then Bucky says, “Look, let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

Sam’s brain stills for a second.

He cocks his head back, “What did you do?” he asks.

“I didn't do anything.” Bucky replies with painful innocence and Sam knows he is painfully fucked. “The weakest point in any system isn't the software, the hardware, it's the meatware. The human element.” Bucky points to his head. “Now, in this lockup, it's nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.”

“So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam interrupts.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…” Bucky responds, feigning more ignorance. Sam’s sixth sense, which he likes to call his Barnes Bullshit Detector, is sounding alarms already. Bucky continues, “But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated, and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn't be hard to slip down a hallway or two.” Oh yeah, the sirens are blaring, they’re fucking ringing in Sam’s here so loud he can barely hear the man in front of him as adds, “And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated... someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

Bucky is being far too casual about this whole thing for Sam’s liking, so he says as much, “I don't like how casual you're bein' about this. This is unnatural.” He’s wearing a snide smile, he hopes conveys his disagreement.. “Are you— And where are we, man?” His smile is all gone. He’s fucking pissed. And then there’s a sound of a car door opening outside.

And from the shadow walks out, none other than, Baron Helmut Zemo, wearing a fucking gaurd uniform? Sam’s gonna kill the old man, super soldier or not.

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa.” Sam shouts out, walking over to Zemo.

Bucky cuts in his way, trying to hold him back. He says, “No, listen.”

Sam doesn’t want to fucking listen, “What are you doin' here?” He exclaims pointing at Zemo.

“I didn't wanna tell you 'cause I knew you wouldn't let this happen,” Bucky reasons as if he were talking about buying a damn puppy instead of breaking out a criminal mastermind form high security prison, while being on probation by the government.

“What did you do?” Sam asks exasperated.

“We need him, Sam,” Bucky replies.

“You're going back to prison!” Sam states pointing towards Zemo.

“If I may—” Zemo begins to speak, taking off his hat.

“No!” Both men scream at Zemo in unison, cutting him off.

“Apologies.” Zemo says simply.

“When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me. I'm asking you to do it again,” Bucky’s voice is soft, almost pleading. The tinge of desperation in it makes Sam’s skin crawl, because he wants to help the guy. He really does. But Zemo is one of his least favourite people in the world. And that’s saying something when you’ve just fought an alien who took out half the universe with a snap of his finger.

“I really think I'm invaluable—” Zemo tries.

“Shut up,” Sam throws back with finality.

“Okay,” Zemo responds.

Sam takes a breath, a moment. And fuck if the old man isn’t right. He really thought the recklessness would end in Steve’s absence. Oh to be so naive, he thinks. So he relents. “If we do this, you don't make a move without our permission,” Sam tells Zemo, leaving no room for argument.

“Fair,” Is Zemo’s only response.

“And,” Sam adds, looking back at Bucky, “We call in help.”

“Help?” Bucky asks, confused.

“Yeah, you know, the leash.” Sam’s wearing a smirk. If Bucky’s gonna make him hang out with Zemo, Sam’s gonna enjoy every second of it.

“No,” Bucky refuses, backing away.

Ah, there it is, the enjoyment. “Oh come on! We need a freaking leash and you know it” Sam knows Bucky cannot really refuse him, but he adds regardless, “Someone needs to keep you in check, and him,” he points to Zemo. “And especially both of you together. Who’d be better at that than her?”

“Come on, Sam. You’re here, aren’t you?” Bucky sounds desperate. He’s pacing around, moving his weight from one foot to another. Sam knows he shouldn’t enjoy it as much as he does.

“Yeah, but I can’t kick your ass nearly as well as she can.” Sam retorts, smiling.

“She hates me,” Bucky says, finally looking at Sam.

“No, she doesn’t,” Sam replies easily.

“I killed her best friend… I—I—The things I’ve done...” He breaks himself off, head falling down. “She hates me.” He declares with finality.

“Hey, look.” Sam urges gently and he does look up. Then Sam adds, “She doesn’t hate you, man. She never has. Trust me.”

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks helplessly.

Sam’s face breaks into a smile, “You’d already be dead if she did.”

Read part 2 here. Find series masterlist here.

tag list: @thisisparadisemylove @justab-eautifulmess @intothesoul

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luminnara · 4 years ago

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It’s Been A Long, Long Time | ch 4

Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Taglist: @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo @super-cape @ferxaniti @namjoonwatcheshentai @fandomsstolemylife00 @youngblood199456 @nightlygiggless @darlingely

Amoretta swam in and out of sleep. Whenever she surfaced, she saw bright lights and strange faces, and, assuming that she was in a HYDRA lab, she decided it was better if she just kept on dreaming. After a while, though, she couldn’t manage it anymore, and she finally woke up enough to actually take in her surroundings.

She was in a hospital bed, and...a gown? She couldn’t remember the last time she had been given clothing. When she tried to move, she found that her arms ached, and she had an IV sticking out of her. Okay, so wherever she was, they were trying to take care of her. Maybe. That seemed like a good sign.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a man’s voice said. “How’re you feeling?”

A figure came into view, blurry at first, and as he got closer she was able to get him in focus. Amoretta immediately stiffened, feeling threatened by this stranger, but as the scent of omega wafted in, she relaxed slightly. She couldn’t smell any alphas nearby, and that was good.

Two good signs so far.

“Wh-who are you?” She asked, her voice wobbly and hoarse. Her throat was so sore that talking was painful.

“My name is Dr. Bruce Banner.” The man said, reaching towards a nearby table and grabbing a water bottle off of it. “I’m with the Avengers.”

Amoretta frowned. “The...who?”

He came near her slowly, twisting the cap off the bottle and offering it to her. “You’ve probably got a lot of questions. Mind if I ask a couple, though?”

She gave a little shrug as she raised the bottle to her lips. It felt strange to hold, the water tasting...different from what she was used to.

“Can you tell me your name?”

She thought for a moment, brows knitting together. “Subject 1096.”

It was Bruce’s turn to frown. “Did you ever have a...different name?”

After a moment, she nodded, trying to remember. It felt like it was on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach. Had it really been so long since she had gotten to say it?

“We can come back to that one.” Bruce said gently. “Do you know what year it is?”

She thought for a moment. “19...1986.”

The doctor pulled off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose and mumbling something along the lines of “Christ, not another one…”

She got the feeling that she was off by a few years.

“Well, Ten...is it alright if I call you that?”

She shrugged.

“...alright. Ten, it seems like you were cryogenically frozen for a few decades.”

“...decades?”

He nodded. “Your body seems to have handled it well, though.”

“Did I puke?” She asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Not that I saw.” He chuckled.

Well, that was a little surprising. She had a tendency to vomit after being wrenched out of unnaturally cold naps. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my lab, at Stark Tower.”

“What continent?”

“North America.”

She made a thoughtful noise. “What month is it?”

“June.”

“So Ursa Major is out?”

Bruce paused. “...well, it’s hard to see with all the light pollution in the city, but...yes, I suppose it should be…”

She let out a sigh. “I miss it.”

Her voice was already sounding tired again, and Bruce was quick to take the water bottle back before it slipped from her hand.

“You should get some more rest, Ten.” He suggested. “We’ve got plenty of time to get you caught up when you’re feeling more energetic.”

“Mhm.” her eyes fluttered closed. “Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“What city am I in?”

“New York.” He said, looking down at her curiously. “Manhattan, more specifically. Why?”

She smiled a little. “I wanna see...Brooklyn…”

As she drifted off to sleep again, Bruce rubbed his face. Well, that certainly was oddly specific of her to say. It was a good sign that she seemed lucid, though.

“Captain Rogers is outside, Dr. Banner.” FRIDAY’s AI voice said.

Bruce met him at the door, making his way out as quietly as possible. Steve looked anxious, standing with his hands on his hips as he waited for news. He hadn’t gotten a chance to find Bucky yet, his friend either working out or sleeping, and all he had managed so far was a quick debriefing and a shower.

“I ran down as soon as FRIDAY called,” he said. “How is she?”

“Sleeping again. Just missed her.” Bruce said wryly. “Walk with me, I’m starving.”

Steve fell into step beside him, heading towards the elevators. “Did she say anything?”

“She did. She seemed a bit out of it...couldn’t remember her name, hasn’t been awake since 1986.” He hit the UP button and stood back. “Seemed very interested in constellations, though. And Brooklyn.”

Steve stared at him. “Brooklyn?”

“Told her she was in New York, and the last thing she said before she fell asleep was something about Brooklyn.” Bruce shrugged. “Really interesting thing was her blood tests, though.”

“Blood tests?” Steve asked, stepping into the elevator and waiting for Bruce to join him before the doors closed again.

“Definitely an omega.” Banner said as they headed up several floors. “Her scent is so muted because they pumped her full of enough suppressants to kill a normal person. Pretty sure that’s why she’s so tired...her body is working overtime trying to process such a high dose. I think it was just pooling in her system while she was in cryo, not really going anywhere, so now her kidneys are doing everything they can to—“

“Banner.” Steve interrupted before he had to listen to an entire scientific explanation.

“Right. Sorry.” The scientist cleared his throat. “There was something else that I found already. She’s, uh…well, at some point, she was given super soldier serum.”

Steve froze. “HYDRA gave the serum...to an omega?”

“It’s confusing to me, too,” Bruce put his hands up in defeat. “Thanks to that, though, it’s hard to determine how old she is, or who she is, without her telling us. All I know is that she’s an unmarked omega super soldier with a hell of a dose of heat suppressants to work through.”

“Any idea when she’ll be up again?” Steve asked as the elevator dinged to signal their arrival.

“Hard to say.” Bruce said, following the alpha out towards the shared kitchen near the common area.

“I need to get to the bottom of this, Banner. FRIDAY, will you find Bucky? I need you to tell him—“

“Tell him what?” A voice asked.

Steve smiled in relief. Bucky was there, sitting on the couch with a plate of Alfredo balanced in his metal hand, looking mildly curious about whatever his friend was talking about.

“Oh, good,” Steve said, approaching him, Banner following behind. “You’re already here.”

“What is it, Stevie?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Well, as you know, I visited an abandoned HYDRA base today.”

“I’m aware.”

“And I found...something.”

“...something. What kind of something?”

Steve suddenly wasn’t sure how to describe his discovery. “Well, it’s a...not an it, I mean, I found a…”

“Rogers here brought back an omega test subject.” Bruce interrupted. “She’s down in the lab right now sleeping off some nasty meds.”

Bucky’s posture hadn’t changed, despite how awkward and almost nervous Steve had gotten. He leaned back against the cushions, slurping down a few noodles while he regarded his friend with a mild expression.

“Alright, so?” He asked.

“So...I was wondering if you had any idea what HYDRA was doing experimenting on an omega.” Steve said, hands on his hips in a stance that was supposed to say I mean business, so listen to me.

Bucky wasn’t bothered by it. He was the biggest, toughest alpha in the tower, aside from the rare occasions Thor was roughing it down on Midgard with the rest of them. The others could puff up and posture all they wanted at him, but it never had any effect. He was always calm and cool, generally disinterested in their displays. He knew he was stronger, and he didn’t need to prove it, especially not when he didn’t have an omega to fight over.

He shrugged. “I want exactly privy to all their secrets. I know they kept cells full of omegas around for a while.”

“What did they do with them?” Steve asked.

“Whatever they wanted?” Bucky shook his head. “I really don’t know. If they were experimenting on ‘em, that never concerned me.”

“You’ve gotta know something, Buck.” Steve sounded exasperated.

“Why do you care so much?” He asked.

“Because something isn’t adding up.” Steve growled.

“They gave this omega enough heat suppressants to last a lifetime,” Bruce said. “Her system is all kinds of messed up.”

“Makes sense.” Bucky ate another mouthful. “HYDRA wouldn’t want to deal with hormones going crazy or any unplanned pups.”

Steve stared down at his friend. “Did they let you rut?”

“Stevie, at least take me out to dinner before you start asking about my sex life fifty years ago.” Bucky said dryly.

Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“...yeah. They did. Think they couldn’t stop my ruts.” He relented.

“So did they...you know…” Steve trailed off awkwardly.

“Were you ever given omegas to get you through them?” Bruce asked, proving once again how much more capable of having this conversation he was than Steve.

Bucky finally had to glance away from them in embarrassment. “Well…yeah. But I, uh...the Soldier, he would just kind of...well, they didn’t really last long, if you uh. Catch my drift.”

Steve paled.

Bruce gulped.

“...what? Look, I’m better now, I’m way past that. Besides, I never meant to hurt anyone, I wasn’t myself—“

“This omega is a super soldier.” Bruce said quietly.

Bucky’s face dropped, a flicker of something passing over his face. “...what?”

—

“Finally,” Bruce sighed happily, inhaling the smell of leftover pizza.

“Bucky, does the number 1096 mean anything to you?” Steve asked. He was sitting in a chair across from his friend, Bruce sitting at the kitchen island while he ate his dinner.

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t remember any numbers like that. They mostly just called ‘em all omega.”

He was trying to seem cool and collected, but his scent had shifted slightly. Steve could catch just the slightest hint of distress in it, and as he did so, he narrowed his eyes. He may have been separated from Bucky for almost 80 years, but he was still his best friend, and he could tell when he was hiding something.

“Why would they give the serum to an omega?” Steve asked.

“Branching out?” Bucky shook his head. “Why do they do anything? They’re HYDRA. They can do whatever they want.”

“So you don’t remember anything about an omega super soldier?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky sniffed defensively.

“Buck, it’s okay if you do.” Steve growled. “We’re not going to judge you for anything you did. We just want to help her and figure out who she is—“

“Well I don’t know,” Bucky snapped, big fangs bared in a warning.

Steve responded with a low growl.

“There’s a lot I don’t remember, or did you forget how many times they wiped my memory?”

“Seems like you’re hiding something, Buck, and I wanna know what it is.”

“Why do you care? You should just drop it,” Bucky snarled.

Steve regarded him carefully. Oh yeah. He was definitely hiding something.

“Hey, hey,” Bruce interrupted from the kitchen, intent on stopping their fight before it could start. “Relax, fellas. Don’t make me get the big guy out to shut you both up.”

Steve backed down. The threat of having the Hulk going after him was enough. Bucky didn’t seem to share the sentiment, though, his lips still pulled back in a blatant display of aggression. It was the first time in a while that Steve had seen him acting so defensively about something, and it was concerning, to say the least.

“Buck,” he said, voice low with warning. “Are you hiding something?”

Bucky’s nostrils flared angrily and the insinuation that he was keeping secrets, but he managed to reign himself back in, stifling another growl with a loud sigh.

“I dunno, Steve.” He admitted. “There’s...a lot I don’t remember. If I’m bein’ honest with you, I’m not even sure why I’m feelin’ so worked up about this.”

Steve nodded. It was a relief to hear that Bucky wasn’t acting this way entirely on purpose, at least.

“You feel okay?” Steve asked. “Not rutting soon, are you?”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” Bucky snorted. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. “Is the omega, uh...is she okay?”

“Physically, she doesn’t seem to be too worse for wear,” Bruce said from the kitchen. “The only abnormalities I found in our preliminary blood tests were evidence of the suppressants and the serum. Other than being exhausted and needing to adjust to consciousness again after decades of cryo, she’s fine.”

“Good.” Bucky said, a little too quickly. “I mean...that’s good.”

“She should be awake again by tomorrow. Hopefully, she’ll be up for a longer chat then.”

“You comfortable talking with her?” Steve asked, looking at Bucky. “It might be good for her to see someone else who used to be connected to HYDRA. Might help her ease into everything.”

Bucky gave a nod, already distracted by thoughts of this omega. Was it possible that the girl he saw in his dreams was real? It was hard for him to know what had actually happened to him and what he had imagined, what with HYDRA wiping his memory whenever they felt like it. Ever since he had gained his mental freedom, though, he had been plagued with nightmares, his sleep always filled with the faces of people he had killed.

As time went on, they were getting better, but they never really stopped. He just...didn’t always have to deal with the worst ones. Sometimes, he even got to have dreams that were...nice. Sometimes, he dreamt of a familiar scent, one he couldn’t really place and that he could never remember when he woke up. Sometimes, he dreamt of an omega, with long, dark hair, and the prettiest eyes he could ever imagine. He always saw her in flashes, a smile here, a sigh there, and with no idea as to who she was or where she came from, he had chalked it up to his mind trying to give him some relief from the nightmares. It had to be wishful thinking, and nothing more.

Unless it wasn’t.

He spent a while chatting with Steve and Bruce before retreating to his apartment. With Tony and Pepper gone for the night, spending it in some fancy hotel so that Stark could give a talk at some expo, and most of the others resting after missions, the tower was quiet. It left Bucky too much time to wander and think, and before he knew it, he was making a detour down to Banner’s lab.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he paused. What was he hoping to accomplish, exactly? He didn’t have the kind of clearance that Bruce did. He wouldn’t be able to sneak in, and even if he could, what would he do? Appearing at her bedside would just freak the poor omega out, and that wasn’t the kind of first impression he liked to leave these days.

He shook his head, pressing the button for his floor and leaning back against the elevator wall. He needed to be patient. Tomorrow, when she woke up, he would be able to see her for himself and decide if his weird dreams had any truth to them.

Not that he was getting his hopes up. He shouldn’t, after all. He would just set himself up for disappointment.

Just before the elevator doors slid shut, though, the tiniest, faintest hint of a scent wafted in, and Bucky’s eyes widened. He knew it. He knew that scent, or at least...he used to know it. Somewhere, in a part of his mind that he tried to forget about, he had memories of a peaceful, starry night sky, a hint of pine, and a touch of cinnamon.

Then, the doors closed, and it was gone again, leaving him confused as the elevator rushed upwards.

#alpha bucky barnes #alpha bucky #omegaverse #abo #it's been a long long time #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #winter solider x you #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x oc

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Note

hi bestie! xmas request for u <333 could you do one where the avengers clearly know that peter and the reader like eachother, so they (very undiscreetly) place mistletoes literally everywhere in the hq to get the lil babies of the groups to kiss? thank uuuuuuu love u!

Under The Mistletoe

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Masterlist

“Good morning everyone.” You greeted the Avengers as you walked in the kitchen one morning.

“Good morning.” Peters eyes followed you as you sat down next to him at the table. “I made you hot chocolate.”

“You did? You’re so sweet.” You took the mug from him and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

“Well you mentioned last night that you were always freezing in the morning so I thought this would warm you up.” Peter smiled sweetly at you, face flushed from the kiss.

“You’re too good to me. I was gonna put some whip cream on it. Do you want some?” You offered as you went to the refrigerator.

“Sure. Thank you.” Peter nodded as you put some whip cream on his hot chocolate. The rest of the Avengers watched the interaction, exchanging knowing glances every once in a while.

“So, what did you guys do last night?” Natasha asked curiously as she leaned on her hand.

“We went on patrol together and then walked around the city. It was snowing so it was really pretty.” You smiled as you remembered the night before. Natasha and Bruce made eye contact, giving each other a knowing look.

“Didn’t you get cold?” Bruce asked for his own amusement.

“My suit has a built in heater.” Peter told him.

“But Y/n’s suit doesn’t.” Tony added, understanding what was going on.

“Peter had his arm around me so the heat kept us both warm.” You told them as you sipped your mug, making everyone gush.

“Uh huh.” Tony nodded as he watched Peter put his arm around your chair. “So you went for a moonlit stroll through the city. Pretty romantic, don’t you think? Was it a date?”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No.”

“We’re just friends.” You nodded a few too many times.

“You got some whip cream on your face.” Peter noticed the white dollop on your nose.

“Oh. Oops.” You laughed in embarrassment and went to wipe it off.

“I got it.” Peter wiped your face with his thumb, leaving both of you in a blushing mess.

“Thanks.” You giggled, gazing lovingly into his eyes.

“Right. Just friends.” Rhodey grimaced as he watched the disgusting love fest in front of him.

“So what are you doing today?” Natasha asked, finding the whole situation hysterical.

“We were gonna watch some holiday movies in my room before patrol.” Peter told her.

“Speaking of that, do you want to get started?” You asked him. “We have a lot to get through.”

“Sure. Bye guys.” Peter waved before resting his hand on the small of your back and leading you out of the room. Once you left, the Avengers let out the collective laugh they had been holding in.

“So…they’re in love, right? We can agree on that?” Tony asked as he looked around the room, seeing everyone nod at him.

“I have never seen anyone so whipped.” Rhodey laughed as he sipped his coffee.

“How have they not admitted their feelings?” Nat asked the room. “It’s so obvious.”

“This is worse than me and Nat.” Steve commented.

“Or me and Nat.” Bruce added.

“Or me and Nat.” Tony agreed.

“When are those crazy kids gonna get together?” Steve chuckled as he opened the newspaper.

“This gives me an idea.” Tony narrowed his eyes as he got a familiar devilish glint in his eyes.

“Oh no.” Steve recognized the glint. “This can’t be good.”

“By the end of the holiday season, I want Y/n and Peter to be together.” Tony said decidedly. “This will require a group effort in making it happen. In the weeks leading up to the holidays, I expect each and every one of you to get our dear Peter and Y/n to realize they like each other.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Nat humored him.

“You will all plant mistletoe somewhere in the building.” Tony grinned wickedly. “The mistletoe that gets the most kisses out of them wins.”

“Wins what?” Bruce asked, just as intrigued as the rest of the team.

“Whatever you want. I don’t know if the giant building with my name on it gave it away, but I have money.” Tony stated. “Lots of it. Or how about this, the winner can pick and design a new room to be added to the tower.”

“I could use a physical therapy room.” Rhodey spoke up. “I don’t know if you guys remember, but my legs don’t work on their own anymore ever since I fell out of the sky.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Steve realized.

“Yeah. Nobody really talks about that.” Bruce agreed.

“I think we could all benefit from a new training room.” Nat threw in. “The old one has a permanent sweaty man smell.”

“We already have a training room. What we really need is some personal up keeping. Keeping myself this blonde is not cheap. A hair parlor in the building would be nice.” Steve suggested.

“Parlor.” Tony chuckled under his breath.

“I second that.” Bucky piped up.

“Of course you do, Jared Leto.” Tony teased.

“We don’t need a hair salon. What we need is another lab.” Bruce declared.

“Or a ballet studio.” Nat gasped.

“I think we should install an Olive Garden.” Bucky shrugged.

“How about a room full of murals of myself?” Thor smiled. “You can all gaze upon them and push yourself to stop being tiny and small.”

“Or another gym.” Rhodey shrugged.

“Or a wine cellar. But for beer! A beer cellar.” Thor cheered.

“We can discuss the room later.” Tony quieted everyone down. “If you really want these things, get the kids together. You know what you have to do.”

Tony

You and Peter often ate breakfast together in the same spot everyday, and Tony used that information to his advantage. He skillfully hung some mistletoe above your usual seats and patiently waited for your arrival. Soon enough, Tony heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Hey Petey.” You rubbed Peter’s back before taking a seat next to him. “Hi Mr. Stark.”

“Hey guys.” Tony smiled before looking up and gasping. “Oh golly gee, would ya look at that? Mistletoe! Who put that there?”

“Oh, wow.” Peter said as he looked up to see mistletoe hanging above the two of you. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah. I probably wouldn’t have looked up if you hadn’t pointed it out.” You said skeptically as you eyed Tony.

“Ha.” Tony forced a laugh. “Well, now you see it. Bye!”

He quickly left the room and hid behind a wall where he could watch his plan unfold.

“That wasn’t at all weird.” You chuckled as you turned in your seat.

“He probably put Red Bull in his protein shake again.” Peter laughed as well, fingers brushing yours a little on the table.

“Yeah.” You nodded, suddenly feeling awkward now that you were both aware of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. You both looked away from each other, red in the face and sneaking occasional glances at the plant.

“I, um, I’ve never actually seen mistletoe in person before.” Peter said to break the silence. “I’ve only heard about it in songs.”

“Me too.” You nodded rapidly. “Or in movies and stuff.”

“Yeah.” Peter gulped. “And stuff.”

You looked at each other for a moment, shy smiles on your faces.

“I mean, since it’s both of our first times getting caught under it, it’d be a shame not to honor the tradition.” You suggested sheepishly as you averted your eyes.

“Right.” Peter said quickly. “It’s tradition. We basically have to.”

“Yeah. It’s practically a right of passage for the holiday season.” You said simply as you leaned closer to Peter.

“Exactly.” Peter agreed, leaning in as well. Your faces were almost touching now, just a few more inches until contact.

“Um.” You let out a nervous laugh before shutting your eyes and leaning in. Peter met you the rest of the way, your lips connecting directly under the mistletoe. You smiled a little into the kiss before pressing your hand to his cheek to keep him in place. Peter pulled away after a minute, gazing fondly in your eyes as he opened them. He’d been waiting to kiss you for the longest time, and it was just as perfect as he imagined.

“Thanks.” Peter said, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment after he said it.

“You’re welcome.” You laughed at him, squeezing his shoulder in admiration.

“I’m glad we could, erm, fulfill the tradition.” Peter laughed at his own awkwardness as he shook his head.

“Me too.” You nodded with a flushed face. “I feel more in the holiday spirit already.”

“Same, same.” Peter trailed off, looking around the room to distract from the awkwardness.

“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen and eat our breakfast?” You requested, looking at him shyly.

“Please.” Peter agreed. “It never happened.”

Rhodey

Bruce was making his way to the lab when he saw Rhodey hiding behind a wall, staring at hanging mistletoe.

“Why are you standing here?” Bruce whispered as he stood behind Rhodey.

“I told Y/n to meet me in the kitchen and I’m sending her a bunch of texts so she keeps her eyes on her phone. I also told Peter to meet me in the theater. They’ll have to go through that doorway where I strategically placed mistletoe. Once they bump into each other, they’ll have to kiss and I’ll get a point.” Rhodey explained his masterplan in a hushed tone.

“Why do you want them to bump into each other? Can’t they just see each other in the doorway?” Bruce whispered back.

“Man, have you ever seen a romantic comedy?” Rhodey sighed. “The girl has to bump into the boy so he knows she’s clumsy and not like other girls.”

“I think you’re getting a little too invested in this. It’s just a room.” Bruce reminded him, beginning to think he was behind on the contest.

“Its not about the room.” Rhodey insisted. “I just want to beat Rogers and his stupid parlor.”

“Shh.” Bruce hushed him. “Here they come.”

Bruce and Rhodey watched as you and Peter smacked into each other in the doorway.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking.” Peter said as he caught you from falling.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t looking either.” You smiled at him, staying in his arms.

“How are you gonna get them to notice the mistletoe?” Bruce whispered.

Rhodey silently took out a large fan and switched it on, sending a breeze towards you and Peter. The breeze made the bells on the mistletoe chime, causing you and Peter to look up.

“Is that mistletoe?” He asked as he pointed to it.

“It looks like it.” You commented. “I guess Mr. Stark decorated the tower.”

“Kinda crazy we got caught under it twice.” Peter chuckled nervously, hoping he’d get the chance to kiss you again.

“I know. But hey, it’s tradition.” You shrugged, also hoping you’d get to kiss him.

“Yeah. Tradition.” Peter was barely listening to himself speak as he stared at your lips. You laughed a little as your arms went around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. It was just as good as the first time, if not better. You pulled away after a moment and sighed against his mouth.

“I, um, I gotta meet Rhodey in the nitchken.” You stumbled over your words.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to see him in the popcorn palace.” Peter spoke, not even knowing what he was saying.

“I’ll see you later, Petey.” You squeezed his arm gently and made your way to the kitchen.

“Bye.” Peter mumbled before going to the theater. Rhodey turned to Bruce with a boastful grin and held a finger to symbolize the point he has just gotten. Bruce swallowed nervously, realizing he had to get on it if he wanted to win.

Bruce

“Banner.” Tony came to Bruce’s side with a suspicious look. “You look awfully devious today.”

“You’re much more likely to walk next to someone than to be caught under a doorway with them. That’s why I put a bouquet of roses and mistletoe on the table between their rooms. Every time they pass it, they’ll have to kiss.” Bruce explained as he turned to Tony with bloodshot eyes. He had been working on the plan all night and it showed.

“You unsuspecting genius.” Tony gasped.

“How is that unsuspected?” Bruce deadpanned. “I’m a certified genius. That’s why I was recruited.

“Yeah? And I’m a certified freak. 7 days a week.” Tony said as he stared at the bouquet of mistletoe. It didn’t take long for you and Peter to come out of your rooms and meet in front of the bouquet.

“Hey, Petey.” You greeted him. “What are you up to?”

“I was gonna grab a snack and then watch Dance Moms compilations.” Peter told you.

“Without me?” You pretended to be offended.

“I was gonna ask you to join.” Peter rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“I’d love to.” You smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, is this mistletoe?” Peter realized the bouquet right as you were about to leave.

“Damn, it’s everywhere, huh?” You laughed as you touched the roses, warmed by the color.

“Do we still have to kiss of its not over our heads?” Peter wondered.

“Yes!” Bruce whispered sharply.

“You heard that too right?” Your eyes widened as you looked around for where the voice came from.

“Yeah. I thought it was my conscience.” Peter sighed in relief. Your eyes flickered from the bouquet to Peter, back to the bouquet.

“I mean, we might as well kiss.” You shrugged. “Mistletoe is still mistletoe.”

“You’re right. It would be a waste not to.” Peter nodded eagerly.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. This kiss lasted longer than usual as you both let it linger.

“The plan was smart but you only got one kiss out of it.” Tony whispered to Bruce as you and Peter went to the kitchen.

“Just wait.” Bruce told him. Some enough, you and Peter returned with an armful of snacks.

“Oh, we passed it again.” Peter said robotically, knowing you’d pass it again.

“Oops.” You said sarcastically. “I guess we have to kiss again.”

“Ugh. Every time.” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled you towards his lips. You gripped his shirt collar and continued kissing him as you pulled him into your room.

“See?” Bruce smirked. “Certified genius.”

Down the hall, Natasha had seen the whole thing, chewing her lips as she came up with a plan.

Natasha

Natasha set her plan in motion a few days later, waiting in the kitchen for you as she stirred a bowl of muffin mix. Peter sat at the counter, reading over one of Bruce’s articles in a book. You came into the kitchen wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that matched Peters, the sight of you making Peter smile.

“Hi Nat.” You beamed at her as you took a seat next to Peter at the kitchen counter. “Whatcha making?”

“I’m making muffins with the berries from mistletoe.” Nat said cheerfully. “They should be really good.”

“You bake?” You asked curiously. “You mean they taught you culinary skills when training you to be an assassin?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. For example, I love ballet. We might even be getting a ballet studio in the tower soon.” She said coyly, making you and Peter exchange a suspicious glance.

“Wow. That’ll be really cool.” Peter played along, skeptically of her intentions.

“Right? Does this look okay to you guys?” Nat asked as she held the mistletoe above your head. “I can’t tell it it’s good to use or not.”

“It looks fine to me.” Peter shrugged as he looked up at it.

“Oh, silly me.” Nat clicked her tongue. “You guys are totally under it. I guess you’ll have to kiss.”

You and Peter exchanged another look before pecking each other on the lips.

“Hmm. I still can’t tell. Can you check again?” Nat asked as she held it up again.

“It still looks fine.” You told her, growing suspicious.

“And you still have to kiss.” She sighed like it was an inconvenience. You narrowed your eyes at her before kissing Peter on the cheek.

“Are you guys sure it’s okay? One more time, please.” Nat held it over your heads a final time. Peter looked at you skeptically before leaning in for a kiss. Both of you were well aware of the sneaky smile on Natashas face.

“Wait, let me see if I can find another one.” Natasha took another bunch of mistletoe out of her grocery bag and pretended to inspect it. She made a whole show of it, making it look like she simply couldn’t find out if it was okay to use. She sighed sadly and looked to you guys for help before holding it up. You and Peter laughed in disbelief before kissing on the lips.

“Wow. Did I accidentally make you guys kiss 4 times?” Nat spoke loudly, as id she was letting all the people in the tower know. “That’s a lot. Looks like we’ll be getting that ballet studio after all.”

“Yeah. That is a lot.” Thor appeared in the doorway upon hearing Natashas declaration. He eyed you and Peter with a ponderous look on his face, becoming aware that he was losing the competition.

“Oops. I just remembered that mistletoe is poisonous.” Nat finished her bit. “Guess I won’t be making these! Bye guys!”

She swiftly left the room, leaving the mistletoe on the counter. You and Peter looked at each other, equally confused about what was happening. Thor walked further into the kitchen and pretended to take interest in the mistletoe. He held it up over his head before holding it over you and Peter.

“Are you two sure this mistletoe is good for use?” He asked, stealing Nat’s idea.

“We’re not kissing for you.” Peter told him flatly.

“I never liked you anyway.” Thor stated as he dropped the mistletoe and left the kitchen. He wandered the tower until he found Pepper reading in the living room.

“Pans. I have some bad news.” Thor sighed as he laid on the couch like he was in a therapists office. “The competition your husband started is rigged.”

“Why do you say that?” Pepper wondered.

“Because I’m losing!” Thor whined. “Gods do not lose to humans. Unless it’s a contest for tiny people.”

“How many kisses have you gotten?” Pepper asked, well aware of the contest.

“0 so far.” He sighed. “Everyone else has four or five. Banner has seven!”

“So you just have to come up with a plan that blows everyone else out of the water.” Pepper shrugged.

“Like what?”

“Everyone else has gotten them to kiss, right?” Pepper asked.

“Yes.” Thor nodded.

“You can get them to date.” Pepper said like it was simple.

“Why, that’s brilliant! Thank you, Pans!” Thor cheered as he got off the couch. “You have done me well.”

“You’re welcome.” Pepper chuckled as she flipped the page.

“Wait, your husband is also in this competition.” Thor realized. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because when Tony wins something, he gets way too cocky and thinks he’s above doing any laundry or cleaning.” Pepper explained. “Someone else has to win or he’ll buy Mexico or something.”

“Thank you, lady Pans.” Thor grinned. “I will not disappoint.”

Thor

“May I come in? I’m just kidding. I am coming in regardless of your answer.” Thor chuckled as he barged into your room. You and Peter had been sitting on the bed, jumping from fear as he came in.

“Hi, Thor.” You said skeptically as Thor pulled up a chair. “Can we help you with something?”

“For the past few weeks, the Avengers have been holding a stupid contest that I am losing to see who can get you two to kiss the most.” Thor explained. “They have been using mistletoe to carry out this stupid contest.”

“Wait, what?” You and Peter looked at each other in shock. Suddenly, the strange behavior and random mistletoe sightings all made sense.

“That’s why there’s mistletoe everywhere?” You asked. “And why did you guys do this in the first place? Why us?”

“Because you two like each other.” Thor shrugged. “And everyone knows it. Except for you two. You don’t know it.”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “We do not-“

“Shh.” Thor hushed him. “Don’t talk to me. Talk to each other. You’re welcome.”

Thor smiled kindly before getting out of his chair and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t believe they did this.” Peter groaned. “Forcing us to kiss because they think we like each other? Who comes up with that?”

“I know right?” You agreed. “How we feel about each other is none of their business.”

“Exactly. And what do they know? If I liked you, I think I would know.” Peter forced a laugh, well aware that he liked you.

“Yeah. We would know.” You nodded before looking at him skeptically. “We would know, right?”

“I don’t know.” Peter answered honestly. “It’s kinda hard to tell how I feel about you. I never know if something that happens between us is platonic or romantic.”

“Me either.” You spoke softly as you put your hand on his. “Kissing isn’t really platonic, though.”

“I guess not.” Peter chuckled as he looked at you. You stared at him for a moment, heart beating in your ears as you thought out your next step.

“Peter, do you like me?” You asked slowly, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“Um, kinda, yeah.”

“Kinda?” You laughed softly at his answer.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and squeezed your hand. “I don’t know what to say in this situation.”

“Just tell me how you feel.” You shrugged.

“I feel like I’ve been lingering around places where the mistletoe in hopes that you’ll walk by and kiss me.” Peter confessed, looking at you with a shy smile.

“Well that’s not platonic.” You teased him, leaning into him a little.

“No, it’s not.” Peter agreed. Your eyes flicked to his lips briefly before leaning in to kiss him, pulling his face closer to yours with the hand that wasn’t holding his. He kissed you back once he got over the surprise, sitting up straighter to get closer to you.

“You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, Petey.” You whispered once you pulled away. “You can do it whenever you want.”

“I’m gonna take you up on that.” Peter smiled softly at you.

“I hope you do.” You flirted before connecting your lips to his again. On the other side of the door, Thor had his ear pressed up against the crack, listening to every word with a huge grin.

“I am so going to win this contest.”

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x avenger!reader

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diamond-coral · 3 years ago

Text

The Heist- Part Two

Steve x Reader Chapter Summary: Steve sees you working at a club. Now Steve wants you...and he’ll have you.

Series Warnings: dark, rape/non-con, kidnapping, stripper themes, swearing, crime

Chapter Warnings: male masturbation, swearing, stripper themes, kidnapping, crime, mild violence, threats of rape/non-con, creepy crazy stevo

Steve had begrudgingly went to the strip club with Bucky and Sam because, as Sam said, ‘Modern women are somethin’ else compared to the 1940’s.’. Bucky was much more enthusiastic to see how much things had changed as a once been ladies’ man from the 40’s even if it meant having to go with Sam who bickered with him every five minutes. And while Bucky’s enthusiasm remained as they entered the club, the blaring music, flashing lights, and women in skimpy outfits had Steve remaining unimpressed.

Until he saw you.

You weren’t on the stage but rather talking to a coworker in the back of the room, a tray of drinks in one hand and a smile on your face that could light up a room. An honest, genuine smile that stood out in a room filled with nothing but empty sultry smiles given by dancers. Your coworker said something, and you threw your head back and let out a laugh that Steve could’ve sworn he had heard ringing all the way across the club over the blaring music.

You were perfect.

While you were still scantily clad in nothing but a light pink shimmery sheer top that showed your bra perfectly cupping your breasts, a pair of barely their black shorts, and black heels that had his eyes dragging up and down your legs, your demeanor and posture was more relaxed, and that’s what he loved. You weren’t sticking your tits out in front of you or pushing your ass back, but were rather slouched a little, eyes shimmering with excitement as you talked. What Steve saw of you was raw and authentic, and he loved it.

Sam’s voice interrupted Steve from his daydreaming, and Steve shot him a look of irritation causing Sam to raise his hands in defense.

“Woah there loverboy,” Sam chuckled. “I was just gonna suggest, you should ask for a dance from that girl you’re ogling over.”

“And before you go over and court her with your righteousness and whisk her away to waltz like prince charming, he means a lapdance, punk,” Bucky says while taking a sip of his drink.

“I- I was’t ogling,” Steve sputtered, but let out a sigh of defeat at Sam’s raised eyebrow. “I’m not gonna ask for a lapdance. Besides, she seems to be just waiting tables. I wouldn’t wanna interrupt-”

“You’re hopeless,” Sam teased as he brought his fingers to his mouth to let out a shrill cab whistle. You turned, and Sam caught your attention, beckoning you over with two fingers.

“Hiya fellas,” you said, and Steve frowned a little at the sultry voice you put on. “What can I help you with?”

“Just another round of drinks, sugar. Oh- and-” Sam leaned to whisper something in your ear and Steve noticed your eyes widening a little before your gaze snapped to him, a small smile on your painted lips.

“Of course,” you responded to Sam. “I’ll be back with your drinks shortly.”

As you turned to leave, Steve frowned at Sam. “What did you tell her,” he asked.

“Oh nothing much. Just mentioned that THE Captain America was looking for a little bit of fun tonight.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a groan. “Sam you dumbass.”

“Hey, he’s doing more about it than you,” Bucky interjected. “Sometimes it’s just sad watching you when you just sit and do - oh shit here she’s comes.”

“Alright, and I’ve got another round of drinks,” you said cheerfully while distributing the glasses. “And you, Mr. Rogers…” You sat on one of Steve’s thick thighs while placing your hands on the collar of his button up shirt and smoothing it down. “You’re friend told me you’re lookin’ for something… special tonight?”

Steve’s throat was dry and he was sure you could feel his heart practically beating out of his chest. “Oh well...I um-I.”

“What Mr. Womanizer would like to say is that he accepts your offer,” Sam offered, and Steve shot him what was probably the one-hundredth dirty look of the night.

“Well then.” You got off his lap and tugged on his arm. “I’d be happy to oblige.”

________________________________________________________________

Half an hour later, Steve returned a mess. The first few buttons of button up were undone, his hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed, and his heart hadn’t stopped racing.

“Good time?” Bucky inquired with a smirk.

Steve could barely form any words other than ‘where’s Sam’ to which Bucky pointed to the crowd of sweaty dancing bodies where Sam was shamelessly grinding on some woman.

“Oh God, I need a drink.” Steve fixed his hair with one hand while the other dipped into his pocket to retrieve a flask of Asgardian liquor Thor had given him.

“Was she that good?”

“Well yes, but it wasn’t just the dance. It was her,” Steve answered while burying his face in his hands. He felt like the scrawny kid from Brooklyn again. Completely flustered as he chased after a girl totally out of his league. “I don’t know Buck, she’s just-she’s just perfect.”

“Stevie, look around you. Every woman here is practically perfect. And they’re goddesses. That girl is just a girl.”

“No it’s just- you don’t understand. She’s just…” Steve let out an exasperated sigh and Bucky’s eyes softened.

“Wow you really like her don’t ya?” Steve just nodded in reply. “Well what if we came back again when she’s working?”

“No that wouldn’t work,” Steve said. “But...I think I have an idea.”

“And am I involved in this idea at all?”

“Maybe.” Steve laughed at his friend who groaned.

Steve then continued to explain his plan. He pointed out the coworker you had been friendly with when he first saw you, and asked Bucky to get some information out of her since he was the less recognizable out of the two. Steve needed to see you again. Not just that...he needed you. You were just so perfect for him, and Steve knew that the moment he laid eyes on you. The genuineness of your smile and laugh, just the way you were so authentic amidst your surroundings just showed you didn’t really belong in this environment or even this time period of imitation and phonies. But you belonged with him. And he’d preserve that authenticity.

Bucky just simply nodded, and at first Steve was nervous that his best friend was going to call him crazy, but after a bit, Bucky got up and snatched Steve’s flask while flashing him a grin.

“Bout time we got you a girl, huh pal?”

Steve sighed in relief, and as Bucky trotted off, he went to find Sam.

Steve explained to Sam that he was gonna go home while Bucky worked some “wingman magic” and Sam started letting out fits of laughter at how THE Captain America was ‘down bad’.

Finally, after Sam had finally calmed down, he wished him goodbye and headed home.

He had some things to take care of.

________________________________________________________________

As Steve guided his hand up and down his shaft, all he could think about was you.

Your tits, your ass that had ground on his crotch at the club, your red lips around he imagined on his cock. You’d probably use your skilled hands as well, not being able to fit his entire member into your mouth.

Steve’s thoughts didn’t stop there.

He thought about how your hips moved while in the private dance room. He thought about how although you were undeniably sexy, you were also so kind to him, once in a while asking if everything was okay and if he wanted anything else from you. He thought about how you simply smiled and let out your angelic laugh as Steve fumbled and stuttered, simply putting your hands over his and telling him everything was okay and he could sit back and relax, not having to take charge after a long day of commanding people. The light pink color of your lingerie was so beautifully innocent as your body moved lewdly in contrast. And he loved it.

Steve came with a shout to the image ingrained in his mind.

________________________________________________________________

A few minutes after Steve had cleaned up and taken a much needed cold shower, he received a call from Bucky.

“You’re right,” Bucky’s voice spoke through the phone. “Two drops of that Asgardian shit and she was completely mentally clocked out. Told me everything about your girl.”

As Bucky told Steve your name, Steve tried it out on his tongue for himself.

“Also told me a little bit of a little side job they got goin on. Your girl’s a bit of a criminal, Stevie. Sure you still want her?”

“I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“Well you’re right in that actually. According to...Bella-yeah I think that’s her name-,” Bucky recounted. “They steal from people to pay for rent and art school. And I just so happened to tell her about some skeevy old timer government worker who happened to be loaded from scamming low income taxpayers. Who also happens to live at your address.”

“Wait, you want her to rob me?!” Steve exclaimed.

“Will you just let me finish?” Bucky took Steve’s silence as an opportunity to continue. “I told Bella no one would be home while your girl does the job, but obviously you’ll be home so she can’t get away. She’s literally coming to you on a silver platter pal. Could it get any better than that?”

Steve took a moment to consider the situation before replying. “You’re right. Thanks pal. I really owe you one.”

Bucky chuckled. “Well I got one hell of a blow job so I’ll say we’re almost even. Anyway, she’ll be comin in a week, so that’ll give you plenty of time to prepare.”

_______________________________________________________________

You awoke slowly to sunlight streaming through your apartment window, your bed feeling more comfortable than usual, and a warm arm wrapped around your-

What the hell?

Your body thrashed as you jolted awake and flung yourself away from the body next to you in the bed that very much wasn’t yours in the apartment that was always not yours. Steve Rogers just sat up on his elbows and gave a groggy smile at your frazzled state.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.”

You recalled your memory, trying to see if this was some sort of drunken hookup, and it all came back to you. The heist, him coming home early.

“Didn’t mother ever tell you stealing is wrong?” were the words he had said before he had grabbed your hair in an iron grip and smashed your head on the near coffee table. Everything was black after that.

“Oh my God...you,” you began to back away from him.

“I what, sweetheart?” he mused. “Last time I checked, this is my apartment, and you were the one breaking and entering.”

You scrambled backwards off the bed, but just as you were about to reach the bedroom door, something cold and hard pulled against your ankle causing you to topple face first onto his carpet. Turning your head, you observed a metal cuff secured around your ankle with a chain leading back to the foot of the bed.

Steve used the time you took panicking and hyperventilating to get out of bed and leisurely stretch his arms as if this was a normal occurrence. He approached you cautiously as if you were a wild animal and bent down to softly cup your face with a large hand.

“It’s okay, doll, I didn’t hurt you. Just let you sleep a bit before I caught you up to speed today.”

“Did- did you…,” you sniffled at the thought of what that man could’ve done to you while you slept.

“No. God no!” You nerves calmed a little bit as you were reassured that America’s hero was still the gentlemanly golden boy you met at the club. That was before he tilted your chin to meet his sinister gaze. “I wanted our first time to be while you were awake.”

Your heart dropped. This man was crazy.

You began to frantically yank at the chain on your ankle and your breathing became shorter.

“Hey. Hey! Stop it!” he urged before grabbing both of your hands and holding them in a steel grip. “Listen. I know this is all..new...but you need me. And I need you. When I saw you at the club, you were just so perfect. You’re not like those other women. You don’t belong there. You don’t belong in this life. I can take care of you. I will take care of you.” A tear slipped from your eye at his words but he just brushed it away with his thumb and continued. “You just don’t understand yet. When I saw you, I just knew you were meant for me. You’re perfect, doll.”

All you did was stare at him in disbelief and mutter, “You’re crazy.”

He went to soothe you again and brush a lock of hair away from your face, but you thrashed and said it louder.

“You’re crazy, you’re fucking crazy!”

“Doll, you don’t understand. I love you. And you’ll love me. I promise just give it some time and-”

“No you’re deranged. You’re FUCKING DELIRIOUS!!” you screech as your hand shot out and slapped him across the cheek.

The room went dead silent. You froze, and so did he. You had just slapped Steve Rogers across the face. You slapped the pure muscle mass six foot super soldier and called him delirious, and he looked hurt. His face was painted with a heartbroken look of regret, disbelief, and sorrow. But not from the slap. It’s like your words had hit him like a ten-ton truck, and for a second you saw doubt flicker across his eyes as if realizing that everything he imagined was in his head. And in that doubt was your hope. Your hope that this man would come to his senses and let you go.

“Steve...please, you have to realize this is wrong,” you said softly as he gave you a broken look. In that look you saw the scrawny kid from Brooklyn in the 1940s who only knew rejection, and your heart broke just a little bit. “What you’re feeling...it isn’t love.”

All of a sudden his demeanor changed. Any doubt in his eyes was wiped away in a nanosecond and replaced by a fierce look of determination. His face contorted into a snarl as he yanked you up with him by your hair and spun you around to press your front against the well.

“You dumb bitch,” he growled into your ear. “You think you don't need me when you’re a pathetic thief who whores herself out every night.”

You writhed in his hold but he just gripped your hair harder and let out a breathy laugh.

“You know...for someone like you to stoop so low as to work at that club...it makes me think. You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

a/n: don’t worry I don’t think working at a strip club is “low” at all. just some classic sexist bs from our good old 1940′s fav

#dark!fic #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader

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cherrykindness · 4 years ago

Text

one spoon for two |

first of all, i can't make my first post in english without thanking those who helped and encouraged me to make this decision. thank you for everything @waitimcomingtoo, @harryhoney-bee and @parkers-gal 🧡

summary: you and peter share spoons and sweatshirts and are “secretly” in love with each other.

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

warning: hi! english (obviously) is not my first language, so I ask for patience, im still learning <3

"Good morning." You said with a enviable morning good humor as soon as you arrived at the complex's kitchen, receiving distracted nods and murmurs from Bucky, Sam, and Natasha. Peter, on the other hand, received your greeting with equal enthusiasm.

"Good morning, Y/N." He replied anxiously, straightening the posture and removing his feet from the chair beside. "Do you want to sit here?" He asked quick and shyly, pretending not to notice Bucky and Sam narrowing their eyes across the table. "I-I mean, it's empty, but you don't have to if you don't want to."

You nodded, accepting the offer before sitting down next to the boy you used to call best friend, frowning as you noticed that your yogurt with granola was already prepared next to a spoon and a glass of milk.

"Did you do that?"

Peter agreed, feeling a warmth rise from his neck to his cheeks.

"Yes, I figured you would be tired after last night."

That answer was enough to capture the attention of the entire kitchen. Steve, who was walking through the door with an empty mug in hand, stopped as soon as he heard the phrase leave Peter's lips, widening his eyes as he struggled not to let the ceramic object hit the floor.

"What?" Bucky asked in astonishment, blinking rapidly as he looked away between you and Peter. "What did you guys do last night?"

You and Peter looked at each other in confusion, but before you could respond, Natasha pointed to your clothes.

"Is that Peter's sweatshirt?"

Steve's pressure seemed to have dropped at this very moment. With trembling hands and flushed cheeks, the soldier sat down on one of the chairs, hiding his face amidst inaudible murmurs.

"Tony already knows this?" Sam asked with his mouth full of cereal, looking at you both with disapproval.

"What should I know?"

Peter swallowed hard when he heard your father's voice, dreading the mischievous smile that grew on Bucky's face.

"That me and Pete spent the whole night watching Star Wars." You were quick to respond, causing Peter to let out a relieved sigh.

"So that's what the kids call it these days?" Steve whispered, looking more shocked by the minute. Natasha patted her friend on the back, offering consolation.

"The Spider-Baby said he made Y/N very tired last night." Bucky, playing the part of the devil on Peter's shoulder, repeated the sentence with slight alteration.

"I didn't say that." The boy with bright curls said in horror, shaking his head frantically as his face turned as red as fresh strawberries. "It wasn't like that, Mr. Stark."

"So explain it to me." Tony demanded with a serious face, crossing his arms over his chest.

The boy became an clumsy mess in a matter of seconds. Bucky, Sam and Natasha holding their own giggling as the comic moment unfolded.

"You don't have to say anything, Pete." You reassured him, understanding your father's intentions. "Let's get away from those perverts. We still have a lot to enjoy this weekend."

You stood up with Peter at your heels, leaving the kitchen under the watchful eyes of the Avengers. Everyone, except Steve, burst out laughing as soon as Tony made sure that you were no longer around, Sam having to wipe away a few tears that had escaped from the corner of his eyes.

"What?" Steve asked confused, staring at the others strangely. "What did I miss?"

"They are so oblivious." Natasha said with a smile, shaking her head negatively.

"It's kind of cute." Tony admitted, shaking his shoulders. "The boy is unable to make a move, however."

"What?" Steve voiced it for the third time in less than three minutes. "They-they- you know; Aren't you angry? Isn't that a move for you?"

"They did nothing, cap." Tony stated between a sigh. "They spent the night watching Star Wars just as Y/N said, believe me."

"But is painfully obvious the Spider-Boy is upside down for her." Sam stated, earning a nod from Tony, Bucky and Natasha. "He was already here when me and Bucky showed up in the morning. He was sitting at the table and Y/N's breakfast was also already prepared. I was about to sit next to him– and it was the first time I ever considered sitting next to that child, I swear, when he simply put his feet up on the empty chair, saying that he had severe cramps and needed space. When Y/N appeared at the door all smiling and wearing his college sweatshirt, puft, it seems that the boy went out of his mind, and the first thing he did was to offer the seat next to him."

"There was one day that Y/N needed to help Bruce in the lab and was without access to her cell phone for most of the day. Peter and I were working together on his suit, but the boy was picking up the cell phone every two minutes. He sent a message at 04:30 and Y/N didn't answer until at 08:47, so guess what? Peter answered at 08:48." Said Tony.

"The boy was whipped." Bucky uttered between a sip of coffee.

"He and Y/N were sharing a pot of strawberry ice cream during the last movie session." It was Natasha's turn to share a moment between you and Peter, attracting the attention of the men accompanying her, "but there was only one spoon for both."

There was a suggestive exchange of glances between her, Stark, Barnes and Wilson, broken by Rogers' timid and cautious voice.

"So the kids didn't do anything indecent?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Tony rolled his eyes, leaving the room.

–

It was almost seven in the evening when Peter came into the kitchen again, now with a green mask on his face and a Hello Kitty's patch over his nose.

"What the fuck?" Bucky asked skeptically, almost spitting out the sandwich that was in his mouth.

"Y/N and I are going skin care tonight." Peter replied simply, going over to the refrigerator as everyone watched him intently.

"And what is that on your face?" Natasha asked the question everyone wanted while Peter grabbed a pot of ice cream from the freezer.

"Avocado mask. She saw in TikTok that it is good for the pores."

"So that was the fate of the avocado I bought to eat in the morning." Steve said regretfully. "It's okay, I can buy another one tomorrow."

"I have many questions, but I don't think any answer will answer them." Sam do a grimace before turning to the food laid out on the table.

"Peter, you should ask Y/N out on a date." Thor gave his opinion. "That's what you Midgardians call, right?"

Peter choked with the air as he heard the Thunder God's phrase, almost letting the pot of ice cream slide down the sink.

"W-we go to dates almost every day." He refuted with red face. "Tomorrow we will go to the supermarket. We can buy another avocado for you, Steve."

"But this is not the kind of date we are talking abo–" Natasha tried to explain, but Peter was already leaving the kitchen practically running.

"Bye, Y/N is waiting me to put cucumbers over the eyes."

"You got only one spoon!" The redhead screamed.

"It's enough!"

The Avengers present exchanged a look of recognition before Thor broke the silence, repeating the question Sam had asked that same morning:

"Tony already knows this?"

Everyone shook their shoulders simultaneously, Bruce being the only one to speak up verbally when silence filled the room.

"I'm sure he's already pulling some strings."

–

"Please, Tony, don't tell me that you are hiding to spying Peter and Y/N."

Tony peeked a bit between the leaves as he heard Pepper's harsh voice, putting the binoculars in the back pocket of his pants as covertly as possible.

"Spying?" He laughed exaggeratedly loudly. "Of course not, dear. This is absurd."

The woman eyed him suspiciously, reaching into her husband's pocket as soon as he hugged her.

"So can you start explaining to me the binoculars, the camouflage clothing, and the presence of a giant plant that was not in the hallway before?"

Tony walked away defeated, lowering his eyes at the judgmental look he was receiving.

"The word "spying" is too strong, okay? Let's say I was watching them without them knowing."

Pepper rolled her eyes.

"They are already adults, Tony. You should let them make their own decisions, and it is pretty obvious that they like each other. I know that the idea of Peter and Y/N dating may be strange to you, but–"

"Strange?" He almost shouted, lowering his voice when he noticed that the music that used to come from your room had stopped, now putting his camouflage skills at risk. "Baby, I love you, but you are crazy." He whispered. "Peter is the only boy who deserves to be with someone like Y/N, and all I have been doing for the past seven months is trying to get them to confess the feelings that everyone knows exist, but they seem too blind to see. So far I remain with the verdict that the boy is right for her and I hope don't change my mind anytime soon. They are my OTP."

"OTP?" Pepper asked confused by the slang.

"One True Pairing. Honey, you are so out of date."

"All right, I'm leaving."

Tony arched an eyebrow as he watched his wife walk away and take the binoculars, shrugging his shoulders before hiding behind the leaves again. He spent almost two hours there, but nothing interesting had happened, just you and Peter going back and forth from the kitchen with greasy foods and ice cream, a spoon for two as you shared whatever it was in the aisles, sometimes even taking it into each other's mouths, making Tony look away from those nauseatingly sweet scenes.

He had a story appointment with Morgan and his presence in the little girl's room at nine was a must. The plan affectionately called "Project Starker" had failed that day, and Tony had to accept defeat as he went to your room, expecting to find you and Peter sprawled out on the bed while some nerdy movie was playing on TV.

"Y/N? Peter?"

The room was dark, lit only by adjacent lights coming through the window. Tony stumbled over a few objects along the way, walking blindly through the furniture until he was near your bed.

"Can you even see each other here? God, how–"

Tony had to interrupt the sentence, surprised to see you and Peter snuggled up to each other, sleeping peacefully while a current series he didn't know the name of played on the TV at an almost inaudible volume. He shook his head in denial, holding back a smile before nudging Peter's waist, forging an angry timbre:

"Kid, you have a room here for a reason. What are you doing in my daughter's bed?"

Peter blinked a few times, completely lost and surprised by Tony's presence.

"Mr. Stark?" He asked stunned, trying to see Tony through the shadows. "Why are you here?"

Your father raised one of his eyebrows, aghast at the sudden boldness of the teenager before remembering the younger man's sleepwalking habits. Peter probably thought he was dreaming or some shit.

"Why are you here?" Tony returned the question, crossing his arms.

"Because I'm in love with Y/N and I want to sleep next to her."

Tony opened his mouth like a goldfish, cursing himself mentally for not recording that statement, shaking Peter's body when he started to close his eyes again.

"Aren't you going to your room?"

Peter mumbled something indecipherable, tightening his arms around your body as you continued to sleep heavily on his chest.

"No, thanks for the offer."

Tony nodded to nothing, deciding to just close your curtain and ask to Friday to turn off the TV.

"Thank you for doing Y/N too, Mr. Stark. I appreciate that."

Tony laughed softly, promising himself that he would tease the boy about it the next morning, “Go to sleep, kid. I'm sure no one will leave you alone tomorrow after I tell what you said."

Stark was about to leave when he noticed Peter's feet sticking out of the covers. The night was cold, and there was nothing but a thin comforter protecting the two of you.

"Just one blanket?" He asked.

"Yes." Peter kind of whispered, pulling you closer. "It's enough."

This time Tony didn't hold back his smile, shaking his head before closing the door, leaving you and Peter in that little bubble of teenage passion.

"Point for you, Spider-Boy."

#imagine peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker imagine #avengers imagine #stark reader #tom x reader #imagine tom holland #tom holland x reader

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Attached: Word Is that We Might Work It Out

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6850🙈

Summary: You said yes to Professor Rogers – Steve – taking you out for ‘coffee’. Ball’s in your court – and you decide to make your move.

A date, maybe first of many, maybe not. A date with the gorgeous professor who happened to read your erotica about him. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: alcohol consumption, professor-student relationship and unspecified age gap, language, lots of fluff

A/N: Timeline-wise, this one-shot fits in after chapter four of Attached!!! At the end, you can find the reason behind me writing this. You can consider it one big flashback, if you will 😅 Gif by capchrisevaans.

Series masterlist | previous in timeline

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.

It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.

Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”

You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.

So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?

Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?

“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.

“I texted him like that.”

“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”

You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.

Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-

“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.

Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?

“Spoilsport.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.

Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)

Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.

Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.

Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.

Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”

“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”

You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.

“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”

“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.

I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.

“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”

The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.

“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.

It’s a date <3

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

It was a date indeed.

Steve texted you an address on Friday morning (along with an adorable good morning :) ), apologizing that he couldn’t pick you up, making sure you’d be alright getting there on your own. You found it absolutely sweet, considerate and smart. You suspected that his ‘inability’ to pick you up had something to do with the fact that you lived at the dorms and if he showed up there, it would be trending in the university chit-chat room within five minutes.

You spent a better part of the Friday afternoon researching the place and the weather forecast so you could dress accordingly and getting ready.

You were not ready for a date with Steve Rogers however; your nerves were a mess and nothing could ever prepare you for when he showed up perfectly on time in front of the restaurant---- wearing a suit no less.

How were you supposed to function when he was wearing such elegant clothing, a suit he filled up so fucking well?! And he looked just as breath-taking as always, stupidly perfect beard and slightly tousled hair you just wanted to run your fingers through and his smile was so gorgeous and--- Jesus Fucking Christ, the suit- how could you even put words together when looking at him-

“Wow, I feel so underdressed now.”

Clearly, you could speak just fine, only you lost your brain-to-mouth filter. Also, your mouth might have started watering and your heart was pounding like crazy. You would not survive tonight.

But, you also had a point. The restaurant was supposed to be a nice place, but relatively plain. And he showed up in amazingly fitting dress pants, white shirt, a tie and a suit jacket. So yes, you did feel underdressed.

“Oh no, no! You’re not,” he rushed to reassure you, eyeing your semi-leisure white dress with burgundy flowers with an attentive gaze that had you shifting your weight nervously. “I’m overdressed if anything. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I’m sorry.”

You could always just strip the suit jacket, was your first thought, but luckily for you, this time you managed to contain the words before they got out to the open.

“You’re fine,” you said instead, not knowing how else to react; needless to say you were grateful for the smile he gave you despite the double meaning.

Yes, he was fine indeed. Always. It was unfair, really.

“Thanks. You too. In fact, you look beautiful.”

Your heart stopped in your chest, your mind suddenly racing a mile per minute.

It was ridiculous. It was just a word. But for one, it was spoken so kindly and genuinely you couldn’t but think he meant it, for two, it was Professor Steve Rogers who told you that and--- beautiful.

You couldn’t remember a guy ever calling you beautiful.

Cute? Sure. Pretty? Maybe. Hot? Might have happened once or twice . But beautiful?

You might actually swoon.

And you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t but silently stare at the lethally handsome man in front of you and then it again registered in your brain that this was your fucking crush speaking to you and he was on a date with you and he had read your erotica, one that was about him no less-

Your face was set aflame in an instant and you… you couldn’t let out a word.

“It everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong?” Steve asked hesitantly, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows and it reminded you of all the times you had seen him wearing such thoughtful expression in the two classes he taught instead of Professor Barnes and-

You were screwed.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

“No, uhm, no, sorry--- maybe we should go inside or-“ you muttered, lightly gesturing towards the door and could you get any more awkward?

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

He let you walk in first like a real gentleman, the lightest skim of his fingers on your lower back, which caused your heartbeat to skyrocket; and only when the hostess seated you, you realized you never accepted his kind compliment.

It was too late for that now, you assumed, so you sipped at the still water which waited at each table, and repeated like a mantra to yourself that you needed to get your shit together otherwise you’d ruin your shot before the night even started.

But clearly, you succeeded at that already.

Whatever awkward aura you had around yourself, it seemed to extend now to him too – he shifted slightly in his seat (he had pulled out your chair for you before, because of course he had), his shoulders stiff. Despite that, he smiled at you over the menu.

“So… all exams worked out? Enjoying the freedom?” he asked casually.

“Oh, yes. Yeah.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you uttered with a forced smile, your stomach twisted unpleasantly.

For some reason, you felt like you were having a lame attempt at small talk with a professor, which you were, but it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Not tonight. Not on a date.

What were you even doing here? What were you playing at? Professor Steve Rogers was entirely out of your league, gorgeous, funny, kind and smart and here you were, barely making conversation.

It was pathetic really. It was embarrassing for both of you.

“You up to anything fun?” he queried, the question less enthusiastic than the one before. He was already growing tired of making your uncooperative brain work at least a bit, it was obvious.

Your gulped as the memory of last night popped in your head – staying in, quiet evening, in a mood for some dirty writing--- oh bless, another reminder of why this dinner was and should be really weird.

Steve read your smutty story. The one about him.

“Nothing special,” you squealed silently, earning a plain nod. “Eh, we went out with Penny, my roommate and best friend in one person. But mostly I just stayed in and--- caught up on sleeping.”

“I know what that’s like,” Steve hummed, clearly as grateful as you were when the waiter appeared by your table to take your orders.

Silence stretched as the man left, your hand beginning to fiddle with the neatly folded napkin on the table, lump growing in your throat due to your nerves.

“What about you? Anything… fun?” you asked reluctantly, noticing a brief smile passing Steve’s lips. Pretty, sinfully pretty lips. Perfect. Untouchable for mere mortals like you.

“Oh, not much. Few exam sittings, faculty meetings – we had one now, hence the suit-“

“You came here right from school?” you blurted out, startled – and clearly surprising him with your rudeness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yes, I did. We have a meeting every last Friday of the month.”

“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you sympathized with him quietly, the uneasy feeling in your stomach only growing. He came here straight from work and for this? “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed or something.”

Steve swiftly shook his head, his warm hand landing on yours, gently stopping your restless fingers. This time, it was butterflies in your stomach erupting with life, the sweet comforting gesture warming your heart. He wanted to be here. He came here for you. He was interested in you.

And the feeling was mutual. So why was it being so weird then?

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you reached out. I’m glad that you said yes in the first place,” he admitted, features softening despite the tension in his shoulders never leaving. His brows furrowed as he slowly withdrew his hand – it must have been an automatic reaction then. “I’m not that tired and… and maybe I was little worried that if I asked for a different date, then…”

He trailed off and your lips parted in surprise, your heart swelling in your chest at what he was implying.

Did he think you’d back out? Did he think that all the potential obstacles intimidated you too much? That you’d think it wasn’t worth it? That it wouldn’t work out anyway?

Seeing as you were now, you couldn’t blame him. Despite him being the world’s most charming man, here you were, being… not at all yourself, stressing for no reason.

It seemed to you that had had chemistry, back there in his office. This date made sense. When you imagined how this could unfold, well, it went a bit differently too. There was considerably less embarrassment going around.

This was why you preferred writing to speaking. That’s why you liked daydreaming. Because reality was often less than ideal, no script, awkward silences, misunderstandings…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your food arrived.

You both thanked the waiter politely and you hoped that at least now you’d have a good excuse for the lack of normal conversation.

“What are you sorry for?”

You sighed and nibbled on your lower lip, not missing the way his gaze instinctively flickered there, pupils dilating just a fraction – but enough for you to notice. Your heart skipped a pleased beat – but the undeniable physical attraction couldn’t be enough.

“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. His features twisted in disappointment and something that looked a lot like regret flashed in his eyes. “I want to be here, Steve. I really do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-“

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to oppose and you couldn’t help it as a wry chuckle escaped you.

“Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. And still, there’s this…”

“…tension?”

You wished.

“Sort of? But not the fun kind, for sure.”

He grimaced, but a spark of amusement lit up his blue irises. “Awkward air around us?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed victoriously as he voiced exactly what you were thinking. Then you quickly lowered your voice, looking around. Luckily, no one stared at you. You realized you leaned closer to him over the table, your heart racing at that, but you didn’t withdraw; it was a lovely opportunity to get even a better look at his perfect face. “But I don’t know why!” You knew why. “I like you, Steve-“

“I like you too. And I know I already said that, but you look stunning.”

Your cheeks burned again, but this time, you managed to stutter out a thank you at least. Stunning, Jesus, was he for real?

“T-thank you. You look incredibly handsome too. Then again you always do—why did I say that.”

One corner of his lips quirked up.

“Why thank you, I’m glad you did. The feeling’s mutual, believe me.”

“Then why does this feel like one of the most awkward dates I’ve ever been to?!” you whisper-yelled, causing him to chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red.

His hand once again landed on yours, this time deliberately, the gesture warming you in more than one way.

“Well… I’m nervous. You might be too.” You hummed in agreement. Was that all it was? “But the way you said it, at least it seems to me that it could have been worse, right? More awkward?”

You felt the corners of your lips rise at the remark, shrugging. He had a point there. And he squeezed your hand a bit and good Lord, it should not be making your heart race so much, but he was touching you and he was being really sweet and his fingers were nice and warm and long-

“Tell me.”

You blinked in surprise, realizing you had been staring at your joined hands. You raised your gaze, finding him watching you with a subtle smile.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about the most awkward date you have ever been to,” he clarified, his thumb caressing your wrist.

You only hesitated for a beat before you nodded in agreement, god knew why. Perhaps you did need a reminder that this could have gone much more disastrously and it was mostly your traitorous brain telling you that you were messing everything up.

Plus, Steve deserved whatever he wanted – so far, he was the only reason this date wasn’t as disastrous as it could be.

“Okay. You ever been to a speed dating event, Steve? Because I have.”

“Oh, this is ought to be good,” he noted with another squeeze to your hand, before he released you. Shame. He sipped at his wine and dug into his pasta. “I’m all ears.”

This is ought to be good, Steve said. Well, maybe. You certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.

Explaining to Steve that as you had been under duress from no other than Penny, you both went to the event which promised you meeting ten dashing men in only an hour. You’d get five minutes with each, as anonymous as you’d wished to be, receiving a folder with nothing but a table with the first names of the men and a yes and no option and a line for your own notes about them.

You weren’t sure what to think of it – but after three epically failed Tinder attempts, you agreed to try. If nothing else, you’d gain a new experience.

And an experience had it been. You even lasted a month with one of the guys, but you didn’t tell Steve that. It wasn’t important.

André was.

André Whatever-was-his-last-name – because that was how it worked, no last names – definitely believed he was important. With the guys moving around the tables from one woman to another, spending five minutes with each, you could already hear André closing to your station from two tables over.

He was hard to tune out, courtesy of the colour of his voice, extremely unpleasant to your ears, and him never letting the woman he faced talk. Always interrupting. Always turning the conversation around so it would be about him.

Asshole.

You liked to think you weren’t quick to judge people, but André was making you cringe before you were even introduced. And then you actually were.

A minute into his monologue to you, you felt like you were being tortured.

And then the waitress managed to stumble and spill a glass of white wine – partly over your table, but mostly on the floor. At least she caught the glass and you had but a tiny spot on your dress.

“She was apologizing so profusely and I wasn’t thinking, okay. I went for the napkins few tables over to help and— I didn’t realize I put the open folder down for everyone to see,” you explained, feeling like face-palming when you remembered the night.

Steve watched you in anticipation, a small smirk and a knowing look on his face as he guessed you had already circled ‘no’ for André at the time.

Oh, you wished it were that simple. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you continued.

“André read it, of course. Obviously, he already got a hard ‘no’ from me, but… I might have written a tiny note for myself as to why,” you admitted and Steve’s eyebrow rose minutely, his curiosity piqued even more.

You took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t exactly kind to him. It was something along the lines of self-important asshole who probably compensated for something.” Steve huffed in amusement. But oh, if he only knew... you sighed and continued. “And If Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart had a love child, this would be him.”

No sound came from your companion this time and your teeth anxiously sank into our lower lip, your pulse wavering. What was Steve thinking? Did he think you had been rude? Mean even? Nerdy? All of the above?

He stared at you for full three seconds, clearly rendered speechless by your harsh judgement.

And then he burst out laughing.

Suffocating weight fell from your shoulders and you silently joined him as you explained yourself.

“I was in my Harry Potter phase! And in my defence, I think it was actually pretty accurate...”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, sweetheart,” Steve chuckled lightly before laughing some more, irises twinkling with amusement and something… softer.

You shuddered upon hearing the endearment spill unwittingly from his lips, upon seeing the emotion on his face. And maybe you were a little proud of yourself for making him laugh and lose the tension in his shoulders completely.

“It was one of the longest and most awkward three minutes of my life, the silence that followed,” you huffed, massaging your forehead. “He did not appreciate the comparison.”

“I bet,” Steve cackled, taking another bite of his meal, smile playing in the corner of his lips as he swallowed and continued. “But you’ve got to give it to him, he knew his Harry Potter characters.”

“Ha! My thoughts exactly. But that’s a little bit of weak base for dating, I think, especially since I kinda already hated him.”

“Oh, you did? I didn’t catch that,” Steve joked lightly, causing you to smile despite the horrid memory.

And funnily enough, telling him and remembering it… it did make you feel better and more at ease with him.

“Ha ha ha, laugh it up, Professor. Your turn.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, clearly puzzled. It didn’t escape your notice as his voice faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the addressing.

Oh, so that’ s still a thing. You couldn’t but smirk a bit at that.

“An awkward date. You have to share now, it’s only fair,” you shrugged, only for a terrible realization to dawn on you. “Please tell me there is at least one awkward date story, Steve. Tell me this isn’t really your worst date ever.”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, there’s plenty. I’m just trying to think about one that won’t scare you away from me. I’d hate that.”

One corner of his lips raised, he looked you up and down, lingering on your lips for a bit before meeting your gaze, something you could only hope was fondness and wanton in his eyes. Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your abdomen at the thorough onceover despite the gentle tone of his voice.

Fuck how could he make you feel hot and soft at the same time.

Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, you lowered your gaze and gulped, your stomach making an excited slip. He did want you. You had been being silly, letting your nerves get the better of you.

Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look up, finding him still watching closely – and perhaps, there was a hint of a red to his cheeks, the tip of his ears burning as if despite the blatant flirting, he was unsure of himself too, because he didn’t want to mess up with you either.

You found it absolutely endearing and your heart swelled. The way you got to see there was more to him than his professor side and his dashing looks… you felt incredibly lucky. The more you got to interact with him, the more it wasn’t just your sinful thoughts belonging to him – he was quickly working on stealing your heart as well.

Plucking up your courage, you were the one to reach out this time, carefully sweeping your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling.

“I’m not scared off all that easily, Steve.”

He mirrored your genuine smile, a glint of something you couldn’t read lighting up his eyes.

“That’s good to know,” he said lowly and sighed, narrowing his eyes as if he was assessing you again. “Alright, here goes…”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You actually managed to get one more awkward date story from Steve, because frankly, his experiences were hilarious. And surprise surprise, he was a great narrator. Plus, while he talked, you could ogle him shamelessly without fear of looking strange.

But you guessed that since you were on a date, you could ogle him anyway. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact, whenever he got the opportunity, he reciprocated it. It finally did feel like a date, the air growing thicker as you gradually shifted closer and closer, the light touches prolonging, feet meeting under the table without parting as soon as they made contact.

Your belly kept warming up with each smile and laugh, with every second of the intense eye contact, with every flicker of his gaze to your lips and vice versa. Sharing a dessert was a terrible idea, because you wanted kiss the crumbs sticking on his lips away. You teased each other, you complimented each other – with Steve absolutely winning the undeclared contest – and you realized that despite sharing your most embarrassing dates with each other at the beginning, this was the absolute best you had ever been to.

And you didn’t want it to end.

The light sweater you had brought with you did nothing to shield you from the surprisingly lukewarm wind. As you wandered the streets, Steve finally heard out one of your first thoughts you had had when meeting him today – he shrugged off his suit jacket.

Which… yum. The seams of his shirt were crying for help and you could only think fo one way of helping them – taking his shirt off too. But alas, Steve didn’t continue the striptease, probably because you were on the street. Instead, he did the most wholesome thing and held out the jacket for you to slip into.

You only hesitated a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. How could you say no to that?

“That’s awfully cliché and really sweet at the same time,” you muttered, causing him to shrug, one corner of his lips raised in a smirk as he helped you put it on, forefinger most definitely deliberately caressing the side of your throat before withdrawing.

A shudder ran down your spine, electrifying feeling going straight to your core. The whiff of whatever cologne he was wearing enveloped you, clouding your senses. Goddammit he smelled so good.

“Maybe I just want to see you in my clothes,” he hummed, the suggestive remark knocking the breath straight out of your lungs.

Stepping to your side from behind your back, you caught a glimpse of his expression – a little bit smug, a little bit panicked as it probably registered with him just how much suggestive it was, perhaps crossing a line.

It was absolutely not crossing the line, because the thought of wearing his clothes, preferably grabbing it because you couldn’t find yours after you threw it all around the room as you frantically stripped each other was making your head spin in the best way.

“Maybe I’d really enjoy wearing your clothes after you rip off mine.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, a choked noise leaving him and you couldn’t but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Surprise, professor, you little shit. I can keep up.

“That was… mean,” he said, clearing his throat. Your eyebrows rose, pot calling the kettle back style. “But I see how I deserved that.”

“Damn right… but that doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you shrugged, chuckling at the exasperated look he shot you.

‘Man, she’s gonna fuck you up on a whole new level and I’ll be here for it in the front row with a bowl of popcorn,’ Barnes’ words to Steve which you weren’t meant to hear echoed in your head, making you grin.

The teasing was intense, yet you felt comfortable in it. You blamed Steve and his nature – he already felt like a guy to go lengths to make you feel at ease enough; the way he had kept insisting on you choosing whether this was a date or not only proved it. He made it easy to be yourself, making you feel like you could.

And he made it perfectly clear that he was enjoying seeing you like that, that he appreciated you as you were.

But the closer you got to the campus, the more the reality was settling in, your laughter fading, butterflies and heat replaced by anxiety. He was still a professor. If you went for it, it wouldn’t always be uncomplicated like this. The awkwardness crept in as your steps grew slower, the inevitable arriving.

He couldn’t walk you home, to walk you to the dorm, even if the desire to do so radiated from every fibre of his being. He couldn’t do that for the same reason he hadn’t picked you up.

You came to a stop, feeling like there was this invisible border to a safe, students-free part of the city, the line you couldn’t cross side by side.

“So, uhm… this is it, huh?” Steve hummed, grim. You appreciated the lame attempt at a smile though and reciprocated, turning to face him.

“Looks like it.”

Heavy silence settled over you pair. Your eyes trailed all over him, lingering on his face, noting as he did the same. He was beautiful; you didn’t care you should say that about a man. He was. The light in his eyes dimmed compared to that just a few moments ago, but it was still there, expression soft, almost as soft as his beard looked, causing your fingers to twitch in need to run them over it and pull him in for a kiss.

Your lips tingled as the idea. You had never kissed a man with a beard and you wanted to know how it felt. The fact it was Steve only sealed the deal and made the need grow exponentially.

You wanted to kiss him so bad. But here you stood, unable to move, unable to speak. You sighed.

“Would you-“ “I want to-“

“Sorry,” you and him said at the same time again, laughing it off quietly, your fingers running through your hair.

Your stomach clenched when you noticed his eyes following the movement almost wistfully.

“You go first,” he prompted you gently.

You didn’t argue – if you learned one thing tonight, it was that Steve was a gentleman and that was so rare these days that you wouldn’t want to discourage him from being that way. Even if you really wanted to know what he was about to say, as soon as possible.

“I… I just want to say thank you. For the… for the date. I had a good time, so I hope you had too, at least a little,” you offered lamely, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.

Like a schoolgirl blushing in front of her professor. Jesus, why were you being like this again.

Steve didn’t seem to find you as awkward as you felt however, your name slipping from his lips, kind and soft.

“I had a very good time. You’re amazing.” Your lips parted at the blatant and genuine compliment. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that came out so strong, I didn’t mean to put you in spot like that-“

Stronger than ‘maybe I just want to see you in my clothes?’ you asked yourself. No, you didn’t think so. It was just that the playfulness had left at least two blocks back.

This felt more serious. More intimate.

“Ditto,” you whispered, gracing him with a shy smile he instantly mirrored. “But hey, I already knew that, so…”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, his smile only growing. When he looked at you again, his eyes were the beautiful warm blue that made you weak in the knees.

“Would you like to do something like that again?” he queried lowly.

Yes. YES. YES PLEASE. Minus the awkwardness at the beginning and the one a moment ago, preferably.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you agreed simply, taking note of how his face lit up even more.

How could a man be so indescribably hot and yet adorable enough to tug at your heartstrings?

“Good. I’m glad.”

He tugged at your hand unexpectedly, pulling you to your left, his other hand steadying you by gently grasping your forearm.

Before you could question his actions, a pair of men swaying in a drunken haze passed you, having no care in the world for whom they might crash into.

“Thanks,” blurted out lowly, sparing a second to shoot their backs a dirty glare.

But Steve’s hands were still on you, distracting, as you stood face to face, chest to chest, a little too close, a little too far. Your heart sped up in your ribcage, breathing picking up in anticipation. So close…

But all Steve did was to squeeze your forearm reassuringly, lifting your joined hands to his face.

Just like the day you agreed to get coffee with him, he kissed your knuckles, only this time it was much firmer. His smile was sweet and utterly irresistible as he kept looking at your face and you felt all the worries about the future melt away once again.

He was so precious and this felt so right and--- you didn’t want him to kiss your hand.

Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more too.

You had been aching to kiss that mouth since you had first set eyes on him, on that inhumanly gorgeous and hot creature. You were on a date, you both had a great time and clearly he was giving you the opportunity to decide how far you wanted to take this, because as much as every little touch of his made to crazy, the displays of affection were positively chaste.

And you wanted to take it very very far.

Your rational brain wouldn’t let you just hop into sac with him today, but fuck, you could do with a kiss. You wanted to feel that perfectly trimmed beard of his and you wanted to taste him.

Did he?

You stepped even closer as he let go of your hand, distracting you minutely; due to the sudden proximity, it landed on his chest and Jesus fucking Christ he was firm.

Your fingers clutched at the white fabric of his shirt as you observed his face, your gaze inevitably flickering to his lips. Glancing up once more to find him still watching you intently, pupils dilated, your breath caught in your throat, heat stirring in your belly.

Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped the fabric tighter and shortly pressed your lips to his.

It was a funny feeling – lips hot, soft and slightly chapped, a stark contrast to the beard, less rough than you expected, leaving a tingly sensation behind. It was different; exciting and addicting. Before he could react and before you could think twice, you kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds, your eyelids falling shut.

Your heart fluttered when you felt his lips reluctantly respond just as you withdrew, his grip on your arm tightening. You ran your tongue over your lips to savour the feeling, mouth instinctively curling up in a smile, gaze meeting his.

Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled as well.

“You okay?”

You nodded, almost too eagerly, lowering back to your whole feet. Involuntarily, your gaze flickered to his mouth again, wanting more.

“Uhm… beard,” you piped up unhelpfully, pressing your lips together as soon as the admission left them.

Steve’s smile widened as he once again grasped your hand, leading it to cup his face – not before he dropped a kiss to your palm.

You almost let out a very embarrassing whine at the curious sensation, your mind, still enveloped in Steve’s warmth and cologne, wondering how the beard would feel elsewhere.

Your fingers unwittingly caressed the hair, thumb brushing his lips, unable to resist.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, lips parting, hot breath fanning over your skin as watched you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out and that was it – you pressed against the soft swollen flesh at the pet name, causing a low grumble echo in Steve’s chest.

And then his hand slid to your waist, the other sinking into your hair, and he pulled up into a kiss that had nothing to do with how patient he had been before. He was still a gentleman, but it was a close call – he angled your head to his liking, his lips dancing with yours in a sensual dance with just a tease of tongue licking at the seam of your lips, causing you to sigh in bliss, granting him access.

He hummed appreciatively, the sound shaking your bones as he held you flat against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours – as if every nerve ending in your body wasn’t on fire already. He breathed you in, consumed you entirely – there were no other words for it.

There weren’t many words you could think of to begin with, too busy feeling his broad shoulders under your palm, fingers roaming to find the soft hair at his nape, revelling at the taste of him, just a smidge of tongue and you wanted more, your insides twisting in need--- and oh, your back was pressed against a wall now.

You let out a small startled sound which Steve instantly swallowed – but it was a good wake up call for you both. The motions of his lips slowed, softened, a gentle caress more than anything, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Breathless, you chased after his mouth when he retreated, earning one small peck and then another. He rested his forehead against yours, nose briefly skimming yours, causing you to smile and meet his gaze.

“Sorry,” he muttered and you genuinely wanted to slap his arm or something for apologizing for that. Because you knew what you’d be thinking about for the next few hours, days even, hell, probably weeks. “For springing out like that. I just… wanted to do that for a long time.”

The admission had your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth – and nope, you weren’t over how it felt, his beard against your lips. You wouldn’t be over it for a long time, you suspected.

“Me too.”

“So… we’re doing this again, right?“

You smirked up at him as he reluctantly released you. “You springing out like that or-“

“Don’t test me, babygirl,” he nearly growled, causing your eyes going wide as saucers, feeling as if you were sucker punched to your gut – and liked it.

Babygirl. Jesus, he was going to be the death of you.

“You can spring out like that again too,” you chimed, your voice sounding a bit strangled, because holy shit he just called you that. His gaze flickered all over your face, a shade darker than before. Your underwear was thoroughly ruined with that single look… and the earlier make-out session. “But if we’re talking second dates, I’d definitely do that too.”

He huffed and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

“You’re a minx…. I think I like it.”

You grinned at him and then sighed regretfully, reaching to slip off the jacket, which made him frown.

“You could give it back later.”

“Don’t tempt me… don’t want to rob you of it--- and there would be questions,” you explained, knowing that even walking around the campus like what would raise rumours of god knew what.

Like, maybe someone would think some gentleman like Professor Steve Rogers himself lent it to you or something, gee, where would that come from...

Steve nodded in understanding, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on.

“Plus, I’m thoroughly warmed up,” you added cheekily, causing him to chuckle incredulously again. With a sigh, he leaned in, cradling your jaw in one large hand and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to your forehead.

You could melt on spot.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you get home safe?” he asked of you gently, tugging at your heartstrings some more, because of course he did.

“I will. You too?”

His smile was soft and sweet as he promised to do so, clearly touched by your care. Well, that made two of you.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

You breathed in deeply, dropping a last kiss to his cheek and quickly spun on your heels to walk away – because if you wavered a second longer, you might have not left at all.

Sure, you looked back at him several times, finding him standing where you had left him, his eyes following your receding figure. But you kept walking.

And once you couldn’t see him anymore, you broke into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your palms to muffle your delighted squeal.

You were just coming back to the dorms from the date with Steve Rogers.

And despite the hiccups, it was the best damn thing in the world, leaving you giddy and already craving another date and more. Your cheeks hurt from smiling by the time you made it to the dorms, your heart pounding excitedly the whole time.

As promised, you let Steve know you made there safe, earning another text with a heart. It only made you squeal again, fingers frantic as you replied – and with a kiss for goodnight so he knew you truly enjoyed your night, ending included.

What he didn’t know was that maybe, just maybe, the next evening you wrote a tiny story in which you elaborated at what could happen if he ever pushed you against a wall and kissed your breathless ever again.

And hopefully, he would.

Soon.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Attached masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

...how it happened? I was asked about the first date, very kindly and in a no pressure manner.

S: Hey, just out of curiosity, you don’t really have to answer… how do you imagine their first date went?

me: Hm, let me think, I guess, mm, it would be like this--- oh shit. Oh no. It’s gonna be a fic again, isn’t it? Maybe I could finally write a headcanon or a drabble--- sigh.

As if I could ever.

Thank you for reading :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #professor steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america au #modern au #professor au #college au #steve rogers #captain america #student reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #word is that we might work it out #attached #attached: word is that we might work it out #anika ann

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years ago

Text

Next Time

Peter Parker x Rogers!reader

Summary: You and Peter make plans for "next time", not realizing just how quickly they would happen.

Warnings: none! Just fluff :)

Word Count: 3504

a/n: My first real Peter fic! So this is a sort of sequel to 16 hours isn't enough. I was just feeling inspired, but this focuses more on the readers relationship with Peter! You don't have to read the first part to understand this one.

Masterlist

“I’m gonna go out with Ned and MJ tomorrow, celebrate our day off. Do you wanna come?” You and Peter had just gotten back from patrolling, and it was already 2 am. He's hopeful that you'll want to spend more time with him, but given the guilty look on your face, he doesn't think your answer is going to be positive.

“I would love to, but I need to sleep for at least 15 hours. Maybe I can come next time? If we ever have another day off.” He can't help but laugh, completely understanding the feeling.

“Trust me, I get it. Next time works. Add in a 16th hour, you deserve it.” He smiles at your yawn, thinking about how cute you look when you're tired.

“Thanks Pete.” You both laugh when you yawn again. “16 hours might not even be enough.” He relishes in the feeling of your hug before heading to the elevator.

He decided to head back to Queens tonight so he could sleep in a little longer. He can definitely relate to your need for sleep, being a teenage avenger is an exhausting schedule to maintain.

The next morning, nearly afternoon, Peter finally gets out of bed. Having slept for 8 hours, he definitely understands what you were saying last night.

Still, he's a little bummed he won't be seeing you today. He gets ready anyway, texting MJ and Ned. The three of them decide to go to Delmar's for lunch and wing it from there.

After ordering their usual sandwiches, the trio heads outside to eat.

"I thought you were going to invite Y/N?" MJ starts the interrogation as soon as the three have sat down.

"I did, but she was exhausted, said she was going to sleep all day." He's bummed again at not seeing you, but he still understands.

"Oh man, I'm sorry dude." Ned responds, feeling bad for his friend.

"It's fine. I get it. I definitely could have slept for another 8 hours." Peter shrugs it off, not wanting to dwell on it.

"What should we do now?" Ned poses the question, looking at his friends.

"I don't know. Something fun though, I never have free time anymore." Peter complains, although his friends can tell he's mostly joking.

"I haven't been to Coney Island in a while. What if we go ride all the rides and make fun of the scaredy cats?" MJ suggests.

The two boys agree, finishing up their sandwiches and heading to the subway.

After a horrendous 2 hour subway ride, the three teens finally arrive at the theme park.

MJ drags the two of them from ride to ride, excitedly- but subtly- pointing out the strangers who look like they're going to puke.

Peter does his best not to think about you while he's there. He can't help but remember all the times you told him about going to Coney Island with your dad though. You absolutely loved your father daughter days.

"Dude, isn't that Y/N?" Ned smacks Peter on the shoulder, pointing toward the line for the slingshot ride.

"I thought you said she was sleeping all day..." MJ worriedly looks toward where Ned's pointing.

"Um, yeah. That's what she told me. It probably just looks like her." Peter doesn't want to turn around. He doesn't want to know.

"No, dude. That's definitely her." Ned keeps gawking, trying to get Peter to look. "Why is she with Captain America?"

Peter perks up at that, understanding what must have happened. "He's here too? He was supposed to be on a mission until Tuesday!" He finally turns around, easily spotting you and your dad in line for the ride.

He can't help but stare at how beautiful you are. His smile grows as he takes in your tired, but excited expression.

"Um, care to share your findings with the group?" MJ shoves his arm, trying to get his attention back.

"Huh? Oh! Right." Peter laughs at himself. "He wasn't supposed to be back until Tuesday, they must be having a father daughter day. She told me how they used to always go to Coney Island as an escape from the superhero life." Peter grins, remembering the first time you told him about missing spending time with your dad. He's happy you're finally getting just that.

"What?! Why didn't you tell us she was Captain America's daughter? That's so cool!" Ned finally turns back, staring wide eyed at Peter.

"I introduced her as Y/N Rogers... I kind of thought it was implied." Peter looks back and forth between his friends. It's clear MJ knew, but Ned is genuinely surprised.

"I'm honestly not even surprised you didn't put that together Ned." MJ shakes her head at the boy. "Now, what should we get for dinner?"

"Ohh, hot dogs! It's a Coney Island classic!" And just like that Ned's attention has been diverted. Peter can't help but steal one more glance at you.

You're clearly having a good time. It looks like you've finally convinced Steve to go on the slingshot if the cautious smile on his face means anything. He watches as you jump up and down, hugging your dad with a big bear hug.

He smiles at how happy you are before turning and following his friends to the hot dog stand.

Peter didn't see you at all on Sunday. Normally, the two of you would at least do some homework together, but you hadn't responded to any of his texts.

Around 10 pm, his phone finally dings indicating two new texts from you.

I'm so sorry! I slept so late today, I panicked and forced Tony to help me with my homework so I could get it done faster.

Did you get yours done? I can try to help you :)

haha, I thought you were going to sleep all day yesterday? And, yeah I got mine done. Thanks for the offer though! 😄

I was definitely planning to sleep all day. My dad got back early and surprised me with a father daughter day though. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was exhausted. 😴 I powered through a full day of hot dogs, amusement park rides, McDonald's, and a movie 😊

He was about to respond when another text came through.

Okay, admittedly I fell asleep halfway through the movie... but still

Honestly, Peter was glad to hear the confirmation that you hadn't lied to him. He didn't think you would, but it still calmed any unnecessary anxiety to know exactly what happened.

Well, I'm glad you got caught up on sleep today then. I actually was at Coney Island on Saturday too, what a crazy coincidence 😂

Peter...

Did you see me at Coney Island?

Damn, you know me too well... I did, but I saw your dad too so I figured you were having a father daughter day!

I just didn't want to sound creepy... 😳

Not creepy, just a coincidence...

we should go together sometime 😊

Peter nearly dropped his phone when the second text came through. Were you asking him out? Was it just a friend thing? Shit, he really needs to respond.

For sure!

Peter can't help but think he sounds like an idiot. "For sure?" Who says that?!

I mean, that would be great. Our next day off?

For sure! 😉

Oh god. He was definitely in for it now.

Yours and Peters next day off came a lot faster than he expected. Normally, you would go months without a whole day off.

Maybe Steve was worried about you, or maybe it was Tony. Maybe it was just a lack of bad guys, but not even two weeks later you were both given a day off.

"So, do you still want to go to Coney Island?" You were nervous to be asking Peter about your conversation a few weeks ago, but you wanted to spend time with him.

"Yeah, definitely! You'll have to show me all your favorite rides." he smiled, glad you brought it up so he wouldn't have to. "I can pick you up tomorrow at 8?"

"Sounds perfect. Not too early, but still early enough to get there before the crowds." You smiled. If he wanted to pick you up, maybe he thought it was a date...

You hugged him, lingering a little more than usual in his arms. "i'll see you tomorrow, Pete."

He blushed at the nickname, as usual. "Goodnight, Y/N."

The two of you went your separate ways, each freaking out about what the other was thinking.

The next morning, you were pacing around the kitchen in the compound, freaking out. You didn't want to make a fool out of yourself on this maybe date.

"Morning, sweet pea. What's on your mind?" Your dad walked in, getting ready to make his post-run smoothie. One look at your frazzled pacing, and he knew something was up.

You froze instantly. You hadn't even thought about telling your dad. "Oh, um... nothing?" You winced, knowing hoe unconving that was.

Steve laughed, even more intrigued now. "Come on, you can tell me. What's going on?"

"Well... I maybe have a date today..." You said the words slowly, unsure of how he would react. You hadn't talked to your dad much about dating.

His first question surprised you. "Maybe?"

You breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn't immediately freak out. Unbeknownst to you, on the inside he was screaming.

"Well, yeah. I don't know if it's a date or not." Your nerves were back, displayed by your continued pacing.

"Do you want it to be a date?" Again, his question was calmer than you anticipated.

You didn't even need to think about your answer. "I do, but I don't know if he does. That's why it's a maybe."

He nodded, seeming to think about your predicament. "Nat! Can you come in here for a minute?"

You froze again, unprepared to share your maybe date plans with another Avenger.

"What's up, Cap?" She smiled at you, clearly having an idea as to what this could be about.

"Y/N maybe has a date." Her smile grew, clearly her idea was on the right track.

"Maybe, huh?" She turned back to Steve, trying to figure out why exactly he needed her help.

"Yeah, so can you help us figure out if it's an actual date?" You smiled at your dad, surprised but thankful for his actions.

"Of course! Tell me everything, how did you plan it?" She sat down at the island, listening intently as you explained your text conversation with Peter that day, leaving out only the fact that it was Peter.

You went on to describe the conversation you had with him yesterday, again leaving Peter's name out of it.

"Well, from what you described I can definitely see why you're confused. You've been friends with this guy for awhile?"

You nodded, even more nervous to hear your confusion is justified. She nodded to herself, seemingly pondering all the information that was presented.

"I think it's a date." You froze for the third time, unsure if that made your nerves better or worse. "But, you'll know for sure when he picks you up. If it's just a friend thing, he'll probably wear what he always wears. If he thinks it's a date, he'll probably dress a little nicer. He'll want to impress you." She winked as she rose from her chair.

"Thank you!" You rushed around the island, pulling her into a hug. Now you've at least got a plan as to how to figure out if this is a date or not.

"No problem, kiddo. I'm happy to help with girl stuff." She winked at Steve, heading out of the kitchen.

"So, you gonna tell me who this maybe date is with?" There's the questions you were expecting.

Before you could even think of a response, the doorbell rang. "Gotta go, love you!" You planted a kiss on his cheek, rushing out of the room before he could question you.

As you ran out, Tony wondered in just in time to hear Steve ask "Friday, who just rang the doorbell?"

"Mr. Parker, Captain."

Steve nearly choked on his smoothie.

"What's that about, Capsicle?" Tony asked, taken by surprise at the man's reaction.

"Peter Parker is taking my daughter on a maybe date." He said it with a sense of caution, unsure how to feel. To his joy, Tony nearly choked on the water he was drinking.

You were nervous to open the door, but excited to test Nat's theory. It made sense when you thought about it. you yourself dressed a little nicer than normal for your day with Peter.

Instead of jeans and a tee, you opted for a colorful t-shirt dress. It was still casual, and comfortable enough for a day at a theme park, but nicer than normal.

You flung the door open, immediately pulling Peter in for a hug. "Hi!" You were slightly out of breath from running from the kitchen, but Peter didn't say anything about it.

"You look really pretty." Peter blushed, squeezing you tightly.

"Thank you. You look very handsome." You couldn't stop the smile from growing as you took in his outfit. He had on a pair of khakis and a long sleeve button up. He still looked casual, but definitely nicer than normal.

"Thanks. You ready to go?" He held his arm out when you nodded, guiding you to the car when you took it.

You didn't know what to expect on the car ride, so you were pleasantly surprised when Peter put on some music. A few songs in, you recognized it as a playlist you made him of your favorite songs. Your heart melted a bit at the realization.

When you arrived at the park, Peter rushed to open your door for you. It was a tradition you never understood, but you blushed anyway, accepting his hand as you rose from the seat.

"What do you want to do first?" He lead you toward the entrance with a hand on your back, again taking you by surprise.

"Oh, well it makes the most sense to do the big rides first, before the lines get too long!" You were instantly in planning mode, creating the best route for you to get on all the best rides.

You eagerly pulled Peter through the park, holding his hand to guide him. It wasn't uncommon for you to grab his hand and drag him somewhere, but you felt a little bolder today. When you got to the first line, you intertwined your fingers, continuing to hold his hand as you waited.

The next few rides went the same way. You pulled Peter from one roller coaster to the next until lunch time.

"Do you want to get some lunch?" He intertwined your hands this time, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

"Sure! Let's go to Paul's Daughter, yeah? Dad and I had hot dogs last time." You scrunched up your face at the idea of eating more hot dogs.

Peter couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face as he took in your adorable expression. "I had hot dogs last time too."

The two of you just stared at each other smiling until someone bumped into trying to get around the boardwalk.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. The two of you strolled down the boardwalk until you made it to the restaurant.

You happily ate your burgers and fries, talking about anything and everything that came up.

After eating, you continued to walk along the boardwalk, giving yourself time to digest before doing anything else.

"Did you want to go to the arcade area?" Peter questioned, trying to make sure you did everything you wanted.

"Sure, we can play some games! Fair warning, I've had lots of practice. You can't get mad if I beat you." You couldn't help but tease him a bit.

"Darling, you wound me." He playfully slaps his hands over his heart, giving you his best puppy eyes. "Did you forget about my spidey senses?"

You laugh alongside him at his antics, genuinely having fun with him. All of your earlier nerves seem so unnecessary as you stare at his smiling face.

"Yeah, yeah spider boy. Let's see what you can do."

Unsurprisingly, Peter beat you at nearly every game you played. You might be a force to reckon with in hand to hand, but when it comes to throwing rings at bottles, he's got you beat.

True to every rom com ever made, Peter wins you a giant blue elephant. You're not even annoyed at losing, having experienced it over and over with your dad.

It's going on 8 pm when you finally finish playing games. You gave most of the prizes to little kids you passed, only keeping the elephant. You wanted something to remember this day by.

"Is there anything else you want to do?" You smile at Peter, letting him decide your final activity.

"I've always wanted to ride the ferris wheel..." He answered honestly, leaving out the part about kissing you at the top.

"Then ride the ferris wheel we shall!" He laughed at your over the top expression, smiling as you again dragged him by his hand.

The two of you slid into the last open seat on the ride, sitting next to each other with the elephant across from you.

You gleefully looked out over the park, smiling and pointing at all the lights.

"We never stayed this late when I was younger. I was always so tired, so we'd leave and get McDonald's on the way home." You smiled as you remembered countless father daughter days. "The lights look so pretty."

"Absolutely breathtaking." Peter whispers, not having taken his eyes of you for the duration of the ride. When the ride stops, the two of you are at the very top.

A slight breeze cause you to shiver, leaning into Peter for warmth. He puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

His other hand reaches up to brush your hair out of your face, and just like that you can barely breathe. His hand lingers on your cheek, eyes roaming your face.

You both lean a little closer, ready to take this next step when the ride jerks, causing each of you to jump back in shock. You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride, cursing the bad timing.

When you get off the ferris wheel, Peter guides you back to the car. Again, you're half expecting the ride to be a little awkward, but Peter doesn't let it happen.

The two of you continue talking about life, reminiscing on stories from when you were younger. Before you know it, your back at the compound.

Again, Peter gets out to open your door, taking the chivalry thing very seriously. He walks you to the door, painfully aware of your almost kiss on the ferris wheel.

"I had a really good time today, Pete. Thank you." You lean in, kissing him ever so lightly on the cheek.

You purposefully linger close to his face, willing him to give you a sign that he's on the same page.

His hands frame your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. You melt into each other, eagerly reciprocating the kiss until you need to pull away for air.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Peter whispers, his face still only millimeters from yours.

"Goodnight, Peter." You whisper back, planting a final quick kiss on his lips before going inside.

You lean back against the door, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours. Eventually, you walk through the compound, heading for the elevators.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha, Tony, and your dad are all sitting in the common room you have to pass through.

Before you can ever utter a greeting, your dad is talking. "Parker, really?" Your not surprised that he figured it out, he probably just asked Friday. You are surprised at his tone of voice though. It almost sounds approving.

"Yeah..." Your answer is cautious, unsure of where this is going.

"I'm happy for you sweet pea, he's a good kid." You hug your dad, glad to know he's not going to ban you from seeing him. You wouldn't have expected him to react so drastically, but you’re still surprised by the calmness.

"Thanks, dad. I love you."

"I love you too." He rubs your back until you pull away, ready to head to bed.

Before you can leave the room, Nat asks the question all three adults have been wondering. "What's the verdict? Date or not a date?"

You were nearly out of the room when she asked, looking over your shoulder when you reach the doorway. Your face betrays the answer before your voice does, wearing a small, but loving smile. You involuntarily squeeze the elephant closer, hugging the giant stuffed animal closer to your body.

"Definitely a date."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x rogers!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #tony stark #marvel

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worksby-gabriella · 4 years ago

Text

USO Girl?

Halloween!Steve x Halloween!female!reader

Summary: Steve and reader meet at a Stark Industries halloween party, but the reader is dressed up as a USO girl. 🇺🇸

Warnings: None really, just a terrible title.

Request from: @lighterthanstardust (technical difficulties with tagging at the moment)

Putting on the last few touches of your red lipstick, your phone dings.

Nat: Are you still coming? I wanna introduce you to some people :)

Y/N: On my way

Natasha had been begging you to come to Stark's Halloween party for the past month, you kept saying no because you're content with your little tradition of buying candy, curling up and watching horror movies every Halloween. But Natasha was persistent, and adamant about you going. She would come to your workplace at shield, whether you were training, taking a call, or welcoming a new recruit, and bother you until you gave in.

You were pretty sure the reason she wanted you at the party was so she could introduce you to her co-workers? Friends? Family? Whatever she called them, you've heard her refer to them as many different things over the years. And well, you guessed correct based off the text.

Shutting your door and walking out of your apartment complex, you could hear your silver kitten heels click clacking on the cement ground. Getting into your car and checking the adress off the piece of paper Natasha gave you, you turn on the ignition and speed off.

Pulling into the parking lot of a very tall building, that you assume is Stark Tower, you see a red headed figure standing out front.

As you park your car and get out, Natasha starts walking towards you. Pulling you in for a hug and letting go, she takes a good once over of your USO girl costume.

"Damn, 'might as well take you home tonight girl!" She says as she twirls you around.

"Thanks but look at you, Kim Possible!"

Natasha hooks her left arm with your right arm, as you both start walking towards the entrance.

"What are supposed to be anyway?"

"A USO girl, it was a last minute idea because I didn't have a costume. Had to rumage through my grandmother's closet." You answer.

"Hm, it's cute."

As you enter the building she leads you to an elevator, and punches the button that says: 17th floor. When the elevator stops, and opens you notice there's not as many people as you thought there would be. It seems to be more of a small get together for Halloween. To the right there's a group of five people, and Maria Hill whom you've talked to a good amount of times already, all sitting on white couches. There's about two handfuls of some other people scattered here and there, dress in different costumes.

"Tasha' where is everyone?" You whisper shouted as she led you to her friends, The Avengers.

"This is everyone, Y/N"

When Natasha and you reached the group she stopped in front of everyone and introduced you to them.

"Guys, this is Y/N, she works for shield."

"Hey!"

"Hello."

"Nice to finally meet you!"

"So you're the girl Nat keeps talking 'bout, eh?"

You knew who they all where so you didn't bother asking for names, instead you just said your "hi's" back and settled on the couch by Nat.

"Where's Steve?" Nat asked,

"The mans is old as dirt, he's probably just walking to slow. He'll be here eventually." As Sam says this he moves his eyes to you and asks,

"So what's up with the costume?"

"Sam reall-" Maria starts to say but you interrupt.

"Ha ha, it's okay Maria. I'm a USO girl, I didn't have a costume and it was a last minute idea, I had it on hand."

"Be careful, Y/N, gonna give Capsicle a stroke there."

They all chuckle at Tony's joke,

"Capsicle?"

"Just ignore Tony" Natasha says rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

After about an hour of conversation, and Halloween music playing in the background, you volunteer to get the second round of beer from Tony's bar. But Bruce stops you,

"Oh, you don't have to get them. Sit down I'll get it."

Not stopping and ignoring his offer you say,

"It's fine, I can get them."

He smiles warmly at you as you get up to go to the bar.

When you open the small refigerator door, you grab six beers including one for yourself. When you close the door and start to exist the bar you crash right into someone's hard chest.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, i wasn't lookin-"

You cut your self off looking up. Completely mesmerized by the man in front of you. Steve Rogers. You knew he was attractive, but you didn't know he was this attractive.

Chuckling Steve tells you, "It's okay."

He looks down at the beers in your arms,

"Let me grab one for myself, then I'll help you carry those over there."

Waiting for him to grab one, he walks back to you, takes three cans from you, and taps the small of your back to signal you to start walking, sending a shiver down your back.

"So, a USO girl, eh?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yup, didn't have a costume."

"So then what's that?"

"My grandmother's"

Realizing what you said you just said you look at him with wide eyes.

"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to call you old."

Steve lets put a louder laugh causing everyone to watch both of you as you and him make your over to them.

"So, I see you've already met Steve." Nat says with her eyebrows raised.

Knowing what she's suggesting you roll your eyes and say,

"Yes, I have."

"So, I guess I was right. You did give him a stroke."

Everyone starts chuckling at Tony's joke while Steve shakes his head with a goofy smile on his face, looking down at his shoes.

"Hm?" You ask after taking a sip of your beer.

"Well the loud crash?"

"Oh! No, that was me dropping all the beer."

Everyone is moving onto different conversations but you an Steve keep talking. Asking eachother question after question, inventively listening to one another.

Nat was watching both of you out of the corner of her eye.

"So where's the costume old man?!" Sam says, sorta struggling to keep his eyelids open.

"Didn't know we were dressing up." Steve answers with a shrug.

"What?!? No way. Absolutely not. Who doesn't dress up for Halloween?"

"Apparently, Capsicle."

Jerking his head toward Tony he points at him saying,

"Hey! Who're you to talk Stark, you're not dressed up either."

"When you're Tony Stark, Rogers, you don't need a costume to be cool" Tony argues in his defense, flicking off some imaginary dust from his suit.

Everyone keeps talking, drinking, occasionally dancing, and getting drunker and drunker. But Steve has the inconveniency of not being able to get drunk, and you're so caught up in his baby blues that you completely forget you were drinking.

You're definitely drunk, but not from alcohol. You're drunk off of his seafoam eyes, his charm, his kindess, his authority, his every detail.

When two a.m rolls around, and everyone is drunk of thier asses they start heading up to a couple of floors higher, most likely to whatever rooms were up there to get some sleep, already dreading the morning after.

Since you and Steve were sober, well you were more sober than the rest, You and him stayed behind to clean up empty bottles, empty beer cans, and fallen decorations.

You pickup some beer cans to go to the bar and throw them away but when you come back, Steve asks you,

"Would it be wierd if I asked you out?"

"No, no it would not be wierd"

You're both smiling at eachother, Steve is holding orange, black and purple streamers in one hand, while your holding a beer bottle.

Next thing you know he's dropping the streamers, and walking to you.

He kisses you. Lips on lips. Moving so perfectly in sync. It's igniting, it's new, it's exciting, and brilliant. So brilliant that you drop the beer bottle to lay your hands on the nape of his neck, but the bottle has other plans. It crashes to the floor and shatters, causing you and Steve to pull away from eachother and chuckle.

As you both bend down to pick up the shattered peices he grabs your hand, and tilts you head up to look at him.

"So, will you go on date with me?"

"It would be crazy of me to say no, Steve"

My first actual fic!! I hope you've all liked it, btw I THRIVE of off feedback so please tell me what you've thought.

If you've liked this fic please like and reblog. REBLOGS HELP WRITERS A CRAP TON!!!

🤍💙🖤

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natromanxoff · 3 years ago

Text

Queen live at Oakland Coliseum Arena in Oakland, CA, USA - September 7, 1982 (Part-1)

(x)

The band are in great form tonight, full of vitality and passion. Only the intro of Rock It is performed from now onward. When the vocal is expected to re-enter after the rhythm section joins in, the band jump into the first verse of the fast We Will Rock You. John Deacon's bass solo after the second chorus is aggressive, and overall the band are clearly happy to be playing the longer version of the song again - although they do have a bit of trouble getting out of the middle section together, but they recover well. Freddie offers a great version of Play The Game. After the song, he has a word with the enthusiastic audience. "So here we are, back again in Oakland after a long time. Has everybody been keeping okay since we've been away?" Naturally everyone says "yeah", and Freddie replies, "Bullshit!" He continues, "Anyway, we have a lot of new songs for you since we were here last, and this next one is a song for all the girls here tonight, you know what I mean? The real girls. If you've got tits or if you haven't got tits it don't matter." The girls quickly stop cheering as Freddie is just trying too hard when he actually doesn't have to. He attempts to recover, "You just don't understand English. It doesn't matter. This is a Roger Taylor composition [the mention of Roger's name gets the girls screaming again] entitled Calling All Girls." Just before the first chorus of the song, Freddie adlibs, "I've got a message for you babe!" After the second chorus, following "take a message of love for all to hear," he adds to the energy with a few spontaneous words: "Have you got it? Can you hear it? Can you feel it?" Tonight is the first known performance of the Hot Space rocker Put Out The Fire, segueing from the vocal improv of Now I'm Here (Freddie doesn't have the lyrics perfected yet, which suggests it hasn't been performed too many times - fan club magazines from the period say the song was performed as a standalone piece earlier in the tour). After the second chorus, the band seamlessly jump into Dragon Attack. The combination of these three songs seems to recall the medley idea that had been dropped in 1981. After Now I'm Here, Freddie challenges the audience to one of his usual vocal duels. For the first time, he is heard singing "Dee do de de", something that would become part of the lyrics of "Living On My Own" off his first solo album in 1985. Shortly thereafter, after an "alright" that's held for a few seconds, he shouts, "You can do it!" in encouragement, after which he says, "Not bad! It's amazing what you will do if you're pushed." He really takes a liking to this audience. During the next song, Save Me, instead of singing the line "I love you 'til I die," he speaks the words "I love ya", and during the three quiet beats leading into the first chorus, he quickly and poignantly adds, "don't forget it!" Freddie once again dedicates Fat Bottomed Girls to "people who like fucking a lot." In the second verse of Crazy Little Thing Called Love, he modifies a lyric to say "she knows how to fuck and roll." One can draw their own conclusions as to where Freddie Mercury's mind was at on this tour. He turns in a very passionate version of Bohemian Rhapsody (despite not being in full voice by the end of the show), where everything seems to come home to him. Only he knew what the song really meant, but plenty have suggested that the proverbial man being killed in the first verse as told to his mother is his former self that had not yet come to terms with his sexuality. A clash of worlds in 1982, if that's the case. Matt Granz (also with a story from San Francisco '77) fondly shares his memories of this show here:

“This photo is from Queen's last Bay area show ever with Freddie Mercury. With the new direction that they took with the album "The Game" Brian May stated that Queen had "gained the world, but lost America". I think that after they played a Los Angeles gig or two after this particular show that they never did come back to the US. That is truly sad since they were one of the most charismatic of all rock groups to ever play on a stage. This concert was no exception! This photo was taken during Brian's echo solo. The three lights backlighting Brian belonged to one of two manned light pods that followed him around the stage. It was a spectacular effect!

The friend I went to the concert with (who's name I can't even begin to recall) took his SLR 35mm and I took a pocket fixed focus... after seeing me lament over the bad quality of my images he took mercy on me and sold me this memory as an 8x10 B&W Glossy that I kept secured in a folder... and just recently rediscovered and decided to digitize these many years later. My own pics from the concert all came out underexposed... drat! His SLR had some great lenses and he had his own darkroom. He also had great access to many good spots to shoot from.

By the way… remember the days when you didn't need a press badge to bring a camera to a concert? What happened??? Lawyers, I'll tell ya... Lawyers.

The story behind the Flying V being utilized was that at the very onset of his Echo solo, Brian busted a string on the "Red Special". He waked backstage and then shortly reappeared with this guitar. The sound was quite different. After the solo was done fifteen minutes later, he took back his own guitar and proceeded to use it for the rest of the show. It was pretty unusual to see him playing this and (besides the Tele he plays on Crazy Little Thing Called Love for the songs' first solo) have not seen him play another electric besides his main axe that he and his father made.

I was pretty poor at the time, but I liked this photo enough to buy it because of the before mentioned spectacular lighting and the fact that Brian is playing a Flying V.

Though I was not a fan of The Game, this concert was superb! I came to see Brian (being a guitarist myself) and was amazed at how distracted I was by the rest of the band. They were flawless that night and the floor seats I snuck into... 20 rows from the stage... provided the perfect viewing experience. The light show was also the best I had ever seen as well, in that it didn't distract from the music or musicians but rather pulsated perfectly with the beats and saturated the stage with great color combinations.

Freddie, Brian, Roger & John all had the whole auditorium held by the throat from the very start of the show till the last fading notes of "God Save the Queen". Sheer Excellence!” Most of the photos were taken by Sean Trend. A few of the pictures show Brian with the Gibson Flying V, as he had played in East Rutherford last month. But this time he begins his solo with the Flying V, as confirmed by someone who attended the show. Brian, in disbelief, later commented on this: http://www.brianmay.com

“Well, I'm shocked. I definitely would have sworn that I never played a solo live with a Flying V. I played around with them, but mainly at home, except for one video appearance for "Princes of the Universe" in which I'm obviously not really playing!!!

Cheers Bri”

(x)

Part-2

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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star-spangledstud · 4 years ago

Text

SELF-DEFENSE

Request: Um can I request something with steeb🥺🥺👉👈 Maybe him teaching a reader to fight or drive or work out! Thank you❤❤ @donutloverxo

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (female!) reader

Warnings: smut (18+), PIV, lil bit of slapping, nothing crazy.

Word Count: 3062.

Note: Thank you for the request. Sorry it’s taken me so long, I’ve been afk from Tumblr for a while. Hope you still like it!

It’s entirely too early in the morning when your phone rings. Shrill, high tones jolt you out of peaceful slumber. The sound forces you to open your eyes, brain ripped from the dream you were having but already can no longer remember.

With a groan, you roll over in bed, body tangled in pink satin sheets that you’ve managed to wrap entirely around yourself during the night. Blindly, you reach for your phone. Your hand slaps across the wooden nightstand next to your bed until you finally feel the vibrating device cramped between your stiff fingers.

Ready to curse at whoever dares to call you at this ungodly hour, you don’t bother looking at the screen to see who’s calling you. A single swipe and the phone is pressed up against your ear, breath coming out through your nose in short bursts of annoyance while you purse your lips in preparation for what’s to come.

“Good morning, peach,” you hear on the other end of the line.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you instantly swallow the curses you were ready to spit at the caller down. A smile you didn’t know you were capable of this early in the morning blossoms on your face instead, anger long forgotten by the time you manage to form a coherent reply.

“Good morning, stud,” you say with a raspy voice, followed by a soft, sleepy chuckle.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone when he hears you yawn on his end of the line.

“Nah. I always get up at,” you look at your alarm clock, “five in the morning.”

“I’m sorry peachy,” he doesn’t mean it; If it were up to him, you’d never sleep, “I just wanted to hear my girl’s beautiful voice.”

With cheeks heating up quickly, you smooth out the soft fabric of your red nightgown. Buying it was, of course, Natasha’s idea. It’s not really your style, but somehow, she managed to convince you it is.

“How was your run?” you ask as you lay back down on the bed and take a moment to stretch your limbs.

“Wet,” he’s grinning, you can tell, “it’s raining.”

“It always rains in New York, big guy. You leaving tonight?”

The silence on the other end of the line confirms it; Steve leaves for another mission tonight. You’re used to it by now, but worrying about his safety sucks nonetheless, and a lump forms in your throat at the thought of missing him again.

“I was going to ask you what time you get off work. I want to see you before I leave.”

“One, I think.. two if it’s busy. Why?”

Steve sighs and shifts in his chair, “you know I don’t want you walking home alone at night.”

“Steve, I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I’ve lived here my whole life, remember? I’m no stranger to this city.”

“I know you have, but I feel better if I walk you home. I’ll send an agent to pick you up. I have to go now, gotta get ready. I’ll call you tonight to make sure you’re home safe.”

Before he has a chance to hang up the phone, you interject, “you could teach me self-defense.”

It’s silent on the other end. For a brief moment, all you can hear is Steve’s quiet breathing and the clinking of coffee cups in the sink. You’ve suggested a self-defense class to him before, but the reply is always the same.

“We’ll talk about it when I get back, okay? Be safe, peach. I’ll call you.”

“Fine,” you sigh, “if you don’t wanna teach me, then guess I’ll just sign up somewhere in the city.”

“Don’t say that,” he groans audibly, “you know why I don’t want to teach you these things.”

“Steve, you can’t stay by my side every minute of every day. I don’t expect that from you. Nobody does. If something happens while you’re away, I need to be able to defend myself, and let’s face it, nobody is better at this than you.”

“I know,” he admits finally, “I just don’t want you to get involved in any of this stuff.”

“I’m not. I just want to be able to protect myself. Promise you’ll think about it?”

“Okay,” he says finally, “I promise I’ll consider it.”

Two weeks pass after that phone call. Steve gets back from his mission with only a few scrapes and cuts, but all of them heal before he’s even had a chance to see you. He’s glad because he knows you hate seeing him hurt, and you worry too much about him as is.

The sound of distant thunder outside the walls that currently surround you alerts you that Thor is in town again. Still, the raging storm outside isn’t the reason why you’re shaking in your boots.

You tug on the sleeves of your t-shirt and straighten the hem, wondering for a moment if you should’ve picked something more... baggy. In this giant room, you feel very exposed. The gym is a lot bigger than you thought it would be. Granted, you’ve never had a reason to come down here before, but knowing Steve spends so much of his spare time here makes you feel only a little bit at ease.

Steve watches you standing next to the shoulder press machine with your arms crossed when he enters the gym, duffel bag slung over his broad shoulders. He’s carrying two bottles of icy cold water in his hands; one for himself and one for you. He smiles when he sees you’re wearing the Tiffany’s necklace he got you for your birthday, and he can’t help but think you look adorable in your pink t-shirt and ruby work-out leggings.

“Hey peach,” he greets you with a small peck on your lips, “you ready for this?”

You nod and smile gently to assure him, but he can tell you’re nervous. A pang of guilt hits him deep in the chest when he eyes you carefully, afraid he’s pushed you too far this time. It’s one thing to expect his civilian girlfriend of one year to wait for him while he’s out kicking ass for sometimes months at a time. Still, it’s another to immerse you into the lifestyle, much less teach you fighting techniques.

“Born ready, stud,” you respond, sending him a playful wink.

He takes some time to go over general self-defense rules. He tells you to watch your feet, be aware of your attacker’s arms, and to keep your fists as close to your face as possible at all times. He touches your bare skin when he adjusts your posture a few times, and each time his heart twitches because the thought alone of you fighting off a mugger nearly has him losing his fucking mind.

He’s careful with you when you spar for the first time. Even though he would have absolutely no trouble sending you flying to the mat with only one hand, his touches are feather-light and soft. He allows you to hit him a few times, but he can tell he’s not the only one holding back. Steve wants to take it slow, but the sensical part of his brain knows he can’t teach you anything if he doesn’t apply any brute force.

“Peach,” he breathes after taking a break to think, “I need you to hit me.”

“What?” you gulp and bite your lip, doe-eyes widening when Steve places his hands on his hips.

“Is this how you’re going to fend off an attacker? By swatting their hands away from you? By pouting your pretty lips and batting your eyelashes?”

“N..no, but,” you stammer, “I don’t..”

“Come on then,” he urges you to step forward, “take a swing at me. Take me down if you can.”

You take a deep breath, mustering all the courage you have to swing back your fist. Before it connects with Steve’s jaw, he blocks it, twisting your arm behind your back until you’re facing away from him.

The sensical part of your brain quickly realizes you’re never going to win a fair fight, not against Captain America. Then again, you muse, he never told you you can’t fight dirty.

You think quickly, taking only a few seconds to concoct a plan that would make even Natasha proud if she saw it unfold before her eyes. Steve’s already tense, you can tell by how his jaw is clenched tight, and his grip on your arm is firm.

“That all you got, peach?”

He breathes down your neck, causing goosebumps to rise along your heated skin. In a desperate attempt to prove him wrong, you hook your leg under his and bend forward, trying your hardest to pull him down to the ground. Your ponytail flies in his face, allowing him to take in the scent of your shampoo while his rough, calloused palms find their way around your waist to steady you on the mat. Suddenly, you can feel it, pressing up against your lower back. You smirk for a split second, afraid he might see and realize what you’re trying to do, before pursing your lips again into a thin line.

Steve momentarily forgets what he’s doing when he feels you arch your back. His mind trails off, away from the objective of staying upright in position. You turn your head slightly sideways, hot breath fanning against his exposed neck in another attempt to distract him.

You sigh audibly when Steve’s lips press firmly against your throat, lips parting when the feeling of Steve’s muscles pressed tightly against your back becomes a sensation you’re both hyper-aware of. His t-shirt is thin. You can feel every ripple of muscle underneath the tight fabric that is stretched so thin you wonder how the fuck it hasn’t ripped.

The hammering of his heart and the rapid rise and fall of his chest causes your own heartbeat to speed up. In a final attempt to take him out, you once again shove him, sending all your weight into his trembling body. With a loud grunt, Steve loses his balance. His grip on your hips tightens when he allows himself to fall down onto the mat, taking you down with him in the process. The two of you wrestle for a moment. Still, Steve finds himself on top of you before you can protest, left hand tightly gripping both of your wrists while the other gently brushes a strand of loose hair from your forehead.

He leans down, lips ghosting your collar bones and neck before settling on your earlobe. You turn your head, but Steve grabs your chin with his free hand. Your entire body tenses up when his voice coats your skin in more goosebumps, and you wiggle against his iron grip when he whispers in your ear.

“Do you think this is fair?” he mutters, “wearing these tight leggings in front of me. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

Your pupils dilate, eyes darkening at the deliciously deep grumble in his voice.

“No,” you lie, “I swear.”

He’s needy. You can tell by the way he’s subconsciously grinding his hips into yours. You can feel every inch of his cock through his sweatpants through the thin material of your leggings, and the sheer size of it nearly sends you over the edge then and there.

Steve roughly kisses your lips. Teeth and tongues mash together harshly for the first time in over two weeks. He doesn’t usually kiss you like this. Still, you welcome it, lifting your head off the mat instead into a bruising competition of lips.

Your eyes glance towards the door, and you push against Steve’s heaving chest. He’s already grabbing for the hem of your t-shirt, warm fingers grazing your bare skin when you build up the courage to stop him.

“Wait,” you say, pulling away just as Steve’s hand glides underneath your top, “here?”

“I’m gonna take you right here, peach,” he says while groping your left breast and fondling with your nipple, “right on this mat.”

“What if someone comes in?” you ask, back arching when Steve’s lips once again latch onto your neck.

The warm, wet sensation of his mouth against the most delicate spot on your bare neck has your mind drawing a blank. Suddenly, you can’t remember why you even questioned him. Who the fuck cares if someone walks in, anyway?

“Fuck it,” you reply to your own question, “want you, Steve.”

His hand releases your wrists, allowing you to reach down to the hem of your top. You rip it over your head in one swift motion and toss it next to you, followed by your sports bra. Your tits spring free, bounce in his face. The moment the fabric lifts over your head, Steve’s mouth is on your already tweaked nipple, licking and sucking it how you like it best while you wiggle your way out of your leggings.

“Leave them on,” he orders, grabbing hold of the smooth fabric before you can pull them down all the way.

With your leggings and dampened panties stuck around your knees, your movement is limited. You struggle to open your legs when Steve’s fingers run along your wet folds and groan in frustration when he dips two fingers into your throbbing pussy.

You yelp when he takes his fingers out again and softly slaps your cunt twice with the palm of his hand. He takes his fingers and pushes them into your mouth, chest swelling when he realizes he doesn’t have to tell you to suck on them because you do it instantly.

Three fingers disappear into your pussy now, coated in your saliva and sweet, delicious juices.

“You’re so wet already,” he comments before claiming your mouth with his again so he can taste you on your own tongue, “tell me what you want.”

“I want,” you gasp when he curls his stroking fingers, “your dick inside of me, Steve.”

Your fingers grab at his sweatpants. You yank down the soft, grey material that separates his flesh from you until it falls past his hips and under his toned ass. Steve’s cock, fiery red at the tip and hard like granite, springs free from its confinement and twitches when you allow your fingertips to graze its entire length slowly up and down. Steve bites his lip and holds his tongue to stop himself from cursing, but a small fuck escapes his throat when you fist his dick and guide the tip to your entrance.

“Put it in,” he commands through clenched teeth.

You don’t waste time giving Steve what he desires. After quickly wetting his cock with your slick, you plunge it inside of yourself with a fiery need. A sinful moan escapes your pink, swollen lips, and Steve presses another hard kiss to your open mouth when your hands grab hold of his ass.

He thrusts slowly at first to get your walls stretched nicely around him. No matter how many times the two of you have sex, it always feels like the first time, tight and warm, and oh so delicious. His dick pulsates when he picks up the speed, relishing in the feeling of your fingernails digging painfully into the plump skin of his perfectly round ass.

“You like that, peach?” he locks his hand around your throat, “like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-yes,” you manage when he begins to squeeze, “feels so good, Steve.”

“Anyone can walk in and see you like this,” he moans, “you like that, don’t you?”

You arch your back into his chest, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his weight nearly crushing you. When he reaches down to rub your clit, you almost lose your fucking mind, and he has to bury his head between your tits to stop himself from cumming before you do.

Your bodies are beginning to stick together. The scent of sex is now heavy in the air. If anyone enters the gym looking for a late-night run, they’ll find something they can never unsee—the unmistakable thrill of getting caught red-handed drives both of you nearly over the edge. However, at this point, neither of you can stop if that were to happen. Nothing exists except for the sound of rough breathing, explicit moaning, and skin slapping against skin.

Every sense in Steve’s body is on high alert. He can feel it every time your walls flutter around his aching cock. You can feel it too. His weight on top of you feels amazing. The soft, blonde hair that grazes your neck while his tongue swirls around your nipple feels even better. The sheen of sweat that drips from his chest onto you, you want nothing more. You never want this feeling to end.

“You gonna cum for me, peachy?” he mumbles against your bare skin.

You whine at the knowledge it will end because you feel the coil inside of your underbelly is close to snapping. His thrusts become sloppier, less consistent, and it feels as if he does deeper and deeper with every snap of his hips. There are marks on his ass from where your nails dug into the delicate skin, but it’ll heal quickly.

Your cheeks are red with heat when you cum, lips deliciously parted, and eliciting the most beautiful moans Steve has ever heard. Your entire body vibrates when the orgasm flows through you, breasts glistening with sweat as they bounce while Steve fucks you through it. He fucks you, continues to fuck you until his own orgasm rips through him. Hot spurts of cum cover your insides, and he nearly collapses on top of you, barely careful enough not to actually crush you with his bodyweight.

He stays inside of you for a moment while both of you catch your breath. After he pulls out, he hoists his sweatpants back up over his hips. He kisses you softly while he pulls up your leggings. They snap against your skin when they reach your waist, and he grabs your hand to pull you up off the floor. His cum is still inside of you, dripping into your underwear when you take his hand and follow him out of the gym.

It’s fine, you think, I’ll learn self-defense some other time.

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queerlennon · 4 years ago

Text

Lesley-Ann Jones Is Untrustworthy

So I’ve seen some people in the fandom reading and citing Lesley-Ann Jones’ biography The Search For John Lennon recently and to be honest it’s concerning to me. Lesley Ann Jones has proved in the past to be an extremely untrustworthy source for info about the people she writes about. I understand that it’s exciting to have a book about John that’s not written by the typical “Lennon biographer” type (aka an ageing straight man) and for said book to also promise to shed light and focus on his bisexuality but, if we’re going to analyse John respectfully and accurately, it’s important to identify sources that are biased and untrustworthy, even if they’re technically within our favour. Especially when it relates to his queerness. And seeing as LAJ doesn’t have the best record when it comes to writing about rockstars’ sexualities in a respectful manner, it’s best to treat her words with caution.

Info about exactly how she’s a bad source is under the cut

Firstly, it's key to talk about LAJ's journalistic background when discussing what sort of writer she is: she's worked for papers such as The Sun, The Daily Mail, and The Mail On Sunday. Essentially, the bulk of her work has been for tabloids and traditionally the writing style for those kinds of publications place an emphasis on sensationalism and gossip. Now obviously that doesn’t discredit her work immediately, authors are usually able to write in more than one style so it doesn’t necessarily mean the tabloid style is going to carry over to her biographies; but it’s good to keep in mind when discussing and analysing the legitimacy of the narratives she creates and the stories she recounts in her work.

LAJ has received criticism in the past, particularly from the queen fandom of often overexaggerating, or just straight presenting false information in her bios about Freddie Mercury. She is the champion of the claim that Freddie was bisexual and not gay. Her evidence for this is over-exaggerating and (seemingly intentionally) misinterpreting the nature of the relationship between Freddie and his friend, Barbara Valentin. LAJ claimed that the two had a relationship and even lived together:

“Barbara was very open with me about the sexual relationship she had with Freddie.”

(x)

However, no-one in Freddie’s life has ever corroborated that Freddie and Barbara were anything but friends. As for the claim they lived together, according to Peter Freestone, an extremely close friend of Freddie’s:

In the event, Freddie never actually lived there although Barbara fulfilled a huge role in Freddie’s life at that time... Freddie became very disillusioned when with more and more frequency articles were appearing in the German press’s gossip columns... about the relationship between him and Barbara... After one article claiming to have knowledge of him and Barbara getting married, Freddie... concluded that it could only be Barbara who was providing the information.

(x)

This exaggeration of their relationship and the insistence LAJ has on presenting Freddie as bi because of it has attracted criticism from queen fans for obvious reasons. For one, it’s borderline homophobic to essentially lie about a gay man having a relationship with a woman while downplaying his relationships with men. No, she’s not portraying him as a straight man, however it’s still erasure of the specific struggles Freddie would’ve faced being a gay man in his time, therefore those who want to analyse him would be missing some of the picture when trying to understand him and his life

LAJ’s research methods are also... questionable. This is a post from Crystal Taylor (one of Roger Taylor’s roadies) about her methods for her David Bowie bio which, if to be believed is particularly concerning.

(x)

LAJ is also known to greatly exaggerate her own relationships with her subjects. She often claims to have been friends with the people she writes bios about (coincidently the people she does this with are dead.) Back in the day she would meet with artists while on tour so the idea is convincing enough. However besides her word there’s nothing to suggest that she had close friendships with Freddie or Bowie, two people she claimed to be good friends with. There’s also this comment from Brian May which actually goes against the idea that she was close with Freddie:

(x)

So with all of this in mind, let’s look at the quote from The Search For John Lennon that’s been circulating around Beatles tumblr:

That Bowie worshipped Lennon is no secret. He'd banged on about it often enough. The ex-Beatle had gone to his hedonism. They'd met in Los Angeles, during John's Lost Weekend. I lunched from time to time with David in New York while working there as a music journalist, before he married Iman. He lent me his house in Mustique, to write the first draft of my first biography on Freddie Mercury.

The crazy pair went out to play, according to David, when John was on yet another break from May and far away from Yoko. They genderbender-ed about, John indulging again that 'inner fag' of his. What larks.

They later 'hooked up': 'There was a whore in the middle, and it wasn't either of us,' David smirked. 'At some point in proceedings, she left. I think it was a she. Not that we minded.' By the time they made it back to New York, the ambisextrous pair were 'lifelong friends'.

I’m suspicious of this story for several reasons but first I want to make it clear that none of them have to do with John having sex with men or being bisexual. I’m a very firm believer of John’s bisexuality (my username is literally queerlennon lmao) but once again I think it’s good to examine the legitimacy of sources, even when they favour our position.

Firstly, LAJ’s source for this story is the claim that David told her, which considering I can’t find any info about them being friends besides her word, combined with the fact that she’s lied about having close relationships in the past raises a lot of flags.

But even if we assume LAJ isn’t lying and did know Bowie, the quote is still suspect, particularly the line “John was on yet another break from May and far away from Yoko.” According to May in her book Loving John, her and John had only one break from their relationship (the phrase “yet another break” implies multiple) that lasted a week, and for the entirety of that week, John was with Yoko. (x)

Finally, the language LAJ uses to describe John and David’s sexualities not only puts me on edge but very much makes me question her intention. Phrases like “the genderbender-ed about,” “indulged his ‘inner fag,’” and “ambisextrous,” all come across to me as fetishisation. Bisexuality is already very highly fetishised and sexualised and LAJ is most definitely not concerned with deviating from that representation. That phrasing combined with the way she also discusses Freddie’s sexuality, where she’s alleged highly sexualised claims about him having threesomes:

And quite often that involved other people as well. Other men, other women. There would be a number of them in the bedroom at any given time. In fact they were raided by the police once and the police stormed in and they found more people than they were expecting to find in the bed that morning.

(x)

— leads me to believe that LAJ is an author less concerned with exploring John’s sexuality as apart of his life, something that made him who he was, and more concerned with including details about “bisexual threesomes” as shock value, as a sensational point she can use to to promote her book in press tours and interviews. Like a tabloid writer. And this sort disrespect representation of John’s queerness, imo isn’t that much better than the biographers who dismiss or underplay it. I totally understand that for a lot of us, finding out new info about John’s queer identity is exciting, especially for those of us who are queer and identify with a lot with John for that reason, myself included. But we shouldn’t be giving credence and legitimacy to someone who firstly, isn’t trustworthy and secondly who’s reason for talking about it is gross and exploitative at best and biphobic at worst.

tl;dr, LAJ is an incredibly untrustworthy source of info and in her own over exaggerations, treats discussions of queerness in an extremely problematic and exploitive way so please take anything you read from her with a massive grain of salt.

#john lennon #the beatles #freddie mercury #queen #david bowie #beatles analysis #lesley ann jones #shut up fable #classic rock #biographies/memoirs #fable’s analysis

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tooweirdforyou · 4 years ago

Note

hi!! it’s me again the Luffy lover hehe i thought of something really cute/funny. lets say luffy’s s/o is usually the calm/mature one in the relationship, imagine if the roles reveresed once luffy’s s/o is drunk for the first time with the strawhats at like a bar & luffy is the one that has to be the mature one and make sure she doesn’t do something out of control it would be so cute and funny!! do you think you could do something like that? if so, thank u! i love ur writing

Luffy + His Fem! S/O - Role Reversal

a/n : ah, this was actually pretty cute, thank you for requesting again! :)) hope you enjoy!

note : I literally could not think of another title. I didn’t want it too long but I couldn’t come up with any creative.

Summary : Luffy, who is goofy and immature, ends up having to look after his female significant other one drunken night.

“Lufffyyy!”

Dragging out his name with a slur, Luffy smiles softly at the sight of you sprawled against the bar counter, next to him and Zoro, the latter drinking to his hearts content.

Nami was gambling away in the corner with Franky and Robin watching, Sanji somewhere surrounded by the women in the bar, Usopp was on the verge of passing out, Chopper was outside relaxing and Brook was playing his violin and singing.

The whole bar was a chaotic, loud and crazy mess but it was all fun regardless.

Honestly, Luffy didn’t think you were such a light weight, but he found it pretty funny when you were drunk.

First of all, you tried to out-drink Zoro, which resulted in your drunken state in the first place, and Zoro laughing his ass off at you for trying.

Second of all, you kept embarrassing yourself in front of the bar by singing along with Brook and screaming the lyrics to your hearts content.

And third of all, you were quite the emotional drunk.

“Luuufffyyyy!”

Hearing you call his name once again snapped him from his thoughts and watched as you sniffle and rubbed your nose.

You then latched yourself onto him and clung onto his arms tightly. “Luffy, this place doesn’t have cookies!” You wailed out, completely uncharacteristic of you.

You lost all strength in your limbs and was now just flailing and all your weight was onto Luffy.

Luffy blinks at you and your cry before a laugh erupted from his lips. “Shishishi!~ You’re so drunk, [Name]!” He was entertained from just watching you.

“Captainnn! Can you get me some cookiesss?”

You drag out in a pleading tone, looking to Luffy with the best pleading expression you could muster, quivering lips from your cries.

Luffy chuckles softly at you and wipes your tears away, exhaling a bit as he shook his head at you. “There’s no cookies, [Name].”

Now, Luffy wasn’t really one to get drunk, and this bar didn’t have any meat for him to eat either so he was kind of just hanging around.

But now that you, the one who was always looking after him and the crew during their adventures and troubles, was drunk as hell and couldn’t even stand up straight, Luffy couldn’t help but be amused and find this all too entertaining.

Of course, since he was the only one nearby that wasn’t drunk, it was also his duty as captain to look after you this time.

And boy, you were quite the handful.

“But Luffyy, I want cookies!”

You childishly pout, hugging his arm tighter and nuzzled your face against his skin.

“Get me cookies now! I order you to!” You demanded, pulling back from Luffy and gave a small glare to Luffy.

“Oi, I’m the captain!” Luffy then sighs, almost in disbelief at how different you were drunk and just grins to himself a bit. He found it extremely adorable and cute of you.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the ship, okay?”

Luffy suggests, getting up from his stool on the counter and dusted off his clothes, before holding out a hand for you.

“No!”

Luffy stared blankly at you turning away with a huff, planting yourself straight onto the counter with your back facing him.

Luffy then smiles to himself and stretches his arms, wrapping them around your torso and pulls you towards him with ease, a small shriek escaping your lips.

“Oi, Zoro! Watch the others, you hear me? I’m heading back to the ship!” Luffy calls as he began making his way out of the tavern, Zoro nodding. “Roger.”

“Oi! let me go!” Tears began to stream down your eyes at Luffy’s grip, you squirming around.

“LUUFFFYYY! HELP ME, IM BEING KIDNAPPED!”

“Oi, [Name]! It’s me, Luffy! Im carrying you!” Luffy quickly remarks, walking through the quiet street, watching as you suddenly became quiet in his hold.

“...oh..” suddenly feeling weak, you snuggle closer into Luffy since he was carrying you bridal style in his arms.

Luffy carefully moves one of his hands and wipes your tears away and stares down at you closely.

“Hey... Luffy?”

“Yeah, [Name]?” Luffy questions as he glances from you to the pathway, the moonlight as his guide of vision.

“... did I ever tell you how much I fucking love you?.. you’re so lovable... caring about others and.. being there for your nakama... and positively thinking about everything..” Slurring your words a bit, you continue to drag on your explanation for your love of him.

Luffy could feel his heartbeat picking up a hit, his cheeks unknowingly pink as he grins warmly to himself and chuckles.

“I love you more, [Name]!” He hums cheerily, which made a sleepy smile form across your lips. “Yay..! You love meeee....!”

Feeling content and satisfied with how peaceful you were feeling, you sniff the air randomly before leaning closer into Luffy.

“...you smell like meat.”

You blurted unexpectedly, Luffy unable to contain his laughter from your comment.

“Shishishi! And You smell like alcohol.” He grins at you, seeing the small curl of your lips as you close your eyes.

You could sense your vision darkening as you eventually closed your eyes and your consciousness fading away.

A slow exhale escaped your lips.

“..Thank you, Luffy..”

Seeing you slowly relaxing and the steady and slow breathing from your lips being heard, Luffy’s expression softens as he sighs gently towards you.

He tightens his grip and pulls you closer into his chest, making path to the coast to arrive at the ship.

“Of course, [Name].”

“Ugh.. my head..”

The throbbing headache seemed to worsen as you slowly sat up, feeling weight and a pair of arms wrapped around you.

Rubbing your eyes, you glance down to see your familiar rubber lover laying on top of your legs and hugging your waist, fast asleep.

You glance beside you to see the time but instead found a glass of water and a shot glass of medicine to ease headaches, along with a note.

Gladly taking the shot glass and water, you gulped both down with ease before exhaling out in satisfaction.

Then turning to the note, you pick up the card and read it aloud.

“To [Name]. You’re funny when you’re drunk. It’s cute! - Luffy. Ps. You’re a bit of a pain to take care of tho”

Glancing from the note to Luffy asleep on the bed, you only smile slightly and shake your head.

“I wasn’t even that drunk..”

Sure, you couldn’t remember a thing, other than partying with the crew and then suddenly waking up in bed on the ship, but you knew you weren’t THAT drunk.

Turning your attention to the sleeping Luffy on you, you smile to yourself and pat his head.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Luffy.”

As if he heard you, Luffy’s snoring seemed to have quieted a little bit and a small smile began forming on the boy’s lips.

a/n : ahhh, I hope you liked this! :))) 🤍 I wanted to get at least one post out so I apologize if this seems rushed!

I apologize if it’s not what you expected either, I had different ideas for this but I couldn’t really come up with as specific one 😅

It sucks I only have free time / motivation late at night and I’m exhausted too ;-;

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #luffy x reader #op #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Stockings (S.R.)

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3000

Summary: You just wanted to decorate the apartment for a bit, you swear.

It wasn’t your fault that it was impossible to stay with your mind out of the gutter for longer than five minutes whenever Steve was around.

A/N: No knowledge of Attached needed I think 😉 Feel free to read as a standalone, you’ll find it in my masterlist as both.

A/N 2: For @wonderlandmind4 ‘s challenge. Congrats on your follower count and for coming up with this awesome challenge!

Prompt: “Those - weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-“ (bold in text)

Warnings: suggestive themes, implied smut with tiny bit of action so 18+, nsfw, language (always), and one (1) trope that has definitely been used before

Series masterlist

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When the idea of decorating first flashed through your mind, it was, honest to God, completely innocent.

Due to loads of schoolwork, Halloween somehow passed by and you barely noticed, the most festive thing you had done being the indulgent orders of pumpkin spiced lattés and hogging some of the candy for your exam time stress-eating. Candy which just happened to be shaped like spiders, snakes, witches and other lovely stuff.

But that was it and with ditching the spooky holiday and the Thanksgiving which no one in your apartment was allowed to talk about, you itched to celebrate at least one of the holidays in peace and with everything that belonged with it.

Gifts, obviously.

Baking, perhaps.

Decorations, absolutely.

Last year, you and Penny had gone a bit overboard, fully affected by the holiday madness, and bought half the store (well, as much as your financial situation allowed anyway). Your dorm room looked as if Santa puked there, as Penny elaborately put it, but you both adored it.

Now, with Steve, you knew you had to be considerably more restrained.

Not that he would notice if your apartment turned into a damn Santa village, because he was too preoccupied with grading midterm papers. Non-stop, it seemed. The pile never ever appeared to be reducing.

However, you and Steve had set a rule that even if you were both crazy busy, you’d make time for at least one or two evenings together – simply to take few moments to fully appreciate each other’s company.

That night, Steve’s mind wandered despite trying to stay focused on you, you could tell. You felt for him, you truly did… but you missed him. Your time together, truly together, became so rare lately and--- you didn’t want to end up like the couple that kisses goodnight and good-morning just because they share quarters and a bed, and ignores one another for the rest of the day.

Rather than letting the gloomy thoughts consume you though, you tried a different approach; humour.

After all, that was how your relationship had started, along with loads of awkwardness.

“Penny says hi, by the way,” you said casually, practically feeling Steve’s absence despite his body engulfing you as you cuddled on the couch, movie on your laptop playing in the background which neither of you were watching.

Steve hummed, his fingers never ceasing the comforting strokes on your arm.

You adored him, you did – which really was the reason why you couldn’t but mess with him, tease him for his mental trip to the far-away lands.

“She and Bucky hooked up again.”

“Mm.”

“She still claims he was the best she ever had.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Steve muttered, almost as if he was actually listening to you.

“I’m meeting them tomorrow both, because they offered me a threesome.”

“That’s nice.”

The corners of your lips twitched. God, Steve was lucky to have you to take his mind off his job sometimes, otherwise he would work himself into the ground with how much of his brain space was filled with university matters. He was so detached from life sometimes…

“Bucky asked if he could film it, do you think I should say yes?”

“Whatever you think—wait WHAT?!” he cried out, sitting up straight, hence pushing you up too since you had been nestled on his chest.

Giggles erupted from your throat as you watched his perplexed and scandalized face, realization slowly dawning on him as he probably went over the last few sentences that left your mouth – and his expression gradually melted into an apologetic one, blending into exhaustion as he ran his hand down his face.

You cupped his cheeks then, leaning in to plant a kiss on his forehead – you would swear it was a fraction hotter than normal, his poor brain overheating – and stifled the aww threatening to spill when Steve closed his eyes contentedly, a hum vibrating in his chest.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing your lips chastely before wrapping his arms around you to hold you close again, face nuzzling your hair. “I’m listening now.”

You curled into his warmth, much more welcoming than the comforter wrapped around you.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I know you’re tired. We’ll just call it a night.”

“But you wanted to talk about something?” he protested softly, earning a hum in affirmation.

“Just wanted to ask if you’d be okay with me decorating the apartment? Just a bit, to bring a piece of the Christmas spirit in here?”

You could feel his smile against your scalp as his thumb caressed your shoulders blades, his large form shifting for a bit.

“We both live here, sweetheart,” he reminded you and you made a tiny sound of protest. Yes, he was correct, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t consult him on stuff before messing with the interior, even if it was with the best intentions. Duh. “But I appreciate you asking. Decorations, huh?”

You withdrew, meeting his tired eyes with a barely-there twinkle. You smiled at up at him innocently, showing him a tiny space between your thumb and index finger.

“Just a little bit. Just the basics…”

“Uh-huh. The basics. So that’s what? Christmas lights, stockings, mistletoe, a tree?” he mused, his thumb moving to your chin, to your lower lip, brushing it tenderly as you nodded minutely with a smile. His irises lit up a fraction with that image he must have painted in his mind and you felt familiar warmth around your heart at the sight. “I guess we’ll have to talk about getting a tree then. But it sounds nice, babygirl. The mistletoe in particular.”

He proceeded to capture that lips with his, lazy but indulgent kiss that sent pleasant sparkles down your spine and yet made you sleepy as it was soothing, feeling like home.

“Yeah. Sounds nice,” you echoed dreamily, meeting his lips again in a short kiss before nudging him to stand up so you could begin to move to bed.

Only later it occurred to you just how nice you could do with the stuff Steve had mentioned if you tried – and you fell asleep in his arms, a menacing grin that would make Grinch green with envy on your lips.

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Carrying the box after hanging one mistletoe branchlet in the kitchen along with very few fairy lights in the window, you were ready to move onto the bedroom, where Steve was, again, working.

Not for long, you hoped – after all, you put notable effort into your appearance.

With a small smirk on your lips, you knocked on the separating wall, peeking from behind it, trying your best not reveal too much.

Steve didn’t even bother looking up, a semi-loud hum the only sign of him acknowledging your presence.

“I’m gonna decorate this room… you mind me messing around for a bit?” you asked, attempting to sound compassionate about his workload, which you were, and perfectly innocent, which you were not.

That got him eye you briefly, an unconvincing smile passing his lips.

“Sure, go ahead,” he encouraged you softly. He turned his gaze back to the papers on his desk and started writing notes before you could even respond – hence missing your victorious smile.

“Thanks!”

You gleefully walked in, steps soundless against the floor thanks to the thin fabric covering your soles, and placed the box on your own desk.

The rustle of papers and the sudden lack of scribbling sound had you biting your cheek so you wouldn’t burst out laughing.

Steve cleared his throat loudly; when you looked at him over your shoulder however, he went back to reading his damn papers.

You swallowed your disappointment, trying not to think much of it – Steve could be very patient when he wanted to be – or very impulsive. And sometimes, he was both at the same time.

So you pressed your lips together and removed the other branchlet of mistletoe from the top of the box, following with Christmas lights, putting whatever you needed on the desk.

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice sounded from his seat, partly amused, partly… hoarse, affected, and you had to bite your lips so the giggles wouldn’t spill out. “What are you wearing?”

You turned to him, making a show of checking your outfit, letting your palms sprawl over your barely covered thighs and slowly moving them up, the hem of Steve’s loose ivory sweater hiking up an inch and revealing the lace of your thigh-high crimson stockings; perhaps even offering a peek of the straps holding them in place due to the garter belt.

“Your old sweater… and stockings,” you offered with a one-shoulder shrug, cool as cucumber in December – or as yourself teasing your loveable boyfriend at the end of November – on the outside, giddy on the inside as his gaze trailed all over your figure, wavering at the lace and the patch of skin on display, before focusing on your face.

“Those-- those weren’t the kind of stockings I had in mind-- when I, uhm, talked about decorating this place,” he explained.

He sounded almost patient, as if it wasn’t clear as day. His irises, however, were not clear – a cloud of desire covered them, turning them a shade darker, hungrier.

It sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, heat pooling in your belly, satisfaction at inching closer to your goal causing your chest nearly puff with pride.

“Oh, my bad!” you exclaimed, chuckling self-depreciatingly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you eyed Steve from under your eyelashes, picture perfect of innocence… not. “Silly me! I’m sorry, I know how much you hate me in stockings…”

“Babygirl…”

His voice resembled a growl, a low warning not to toy with him – which was exactly what you did want to do, teasing him shamelessly when having added emphasis on him not liking your attire.

Stockings and/or his clothes on you got your boyfriend going in fact, sometimes for hours even, thank you very much.

“Yes, Steve?”

“This isn’t going to work, you know. I really have to finish these,” he stated and you most definitely didn’t imagine the impatience and his dislike towards his task sneaking into his voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. These are just…” you bit gently on your lower lip, sliding your palms up and down your thighs, Steve’s gaze following the motion instinctively, pupils dilating with the craving to replace your hands with his own, “…comfy, just like your sweater. You never minded when I borrowed it before—you know I love stealing it. It just… it smells like you and it’s warm. It’s like you’re all over me. It’s perfect.”

His glare zeroed on your mouth, slightly accented by a natural, yet visible shade of your lipstick. Steve didn’t say a word, simply staring – and shifting slightly in his seat, much to your glee, which hopefully didn’t show too much – and grumbling an unidentifiable noise.

You felt for him, you truly did – god knew that sometimes, you were overwhelmed with schoolwork too – but that didn’t stop you from smiling at him sweetly now, adding an apologetic tone to your next words.

“Sorry. I talk too much. Don’t let me disturb you. You have work to do and so do I. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

Then you spun on your heels and went back to continue your previous activity, laying out decorations on your desk.

Steve only grunted behind you, but you could hear him as he started going through the papers again, probably trying – and hopefully failing – to ignore your presence.

It wasn’t that you wanted to be mean, there was no single drop of malice in your plan; Steve needed to get his head off his work for a bit, even if he wasn’t aware of it. The way he was overworking himself was beginning to threaten to his sanity.

You simply wanted to help and this was just the way that had crossed your mind first; it was entirely on Steve and his stupidly perfect everything that you couldn’t seem to get your head out of the gutter sometimes when in his presence.

You wished nothing more than for him to turn off his brain… and to relax and enjoy himself.

Clearly, he was enjoying the view indeed.

You caught his sharp inhale when you accidentally dropped a tacky plastic Santa and proceeded to bend over to pick it up… offering Steve a perfect view of your rear and revealing the smart garter belt you wore; with nothing as much as a thong, leaving your most intimate areas bare.

You heard him shuffling in the chair and had to smirk, mentally counting down the time until his resolve broke.

He was holding up quite bravely – nearly long enough to make you doubt your ability to seduce him. Except the shuffle of papers that followed sounded as if he was trying to make a point and you knew that the breaking point was on horizon.

So when the time came to set in motion what you assumed would be the final strike – pushing the chair from your desk to the middle of the room to get ready to put your stockings on display right in his natural line of vision – you delicately took the branchlet of mistletoe with you, climbing up and carefully tying it to the lamp.

Steve’s pen hit the desk with a click and you quickly shot him a glance, meeting his stern and yet rather amused eyes. He sighed at your ridiculously unsubtle antics, but one corner of his lips rose anyway.

“Alright, that’s it. Get down here, you little minx,” he huffed.

Oh, sweet victory.

Mirroring his expression, you retorted cheekily: “Come get me.”

There was no missing the dangerous glint in is eye as he rose to his feet and stalked to your chair, a smirk playing on his lips, every movement purposeful and precise as if he was a predator chasing his prey to the corner.

Your breathing picked up as he neared, your heart pounding, chest heaving quickly – fuck, wasn’t it an erotic sight, Steve’s figure cladded in plain t-shirt and sweats, looking up at you as if he was about to eat you alive.

Maybe it was the expression on his face, somewhere between aroused, amused, cocky and predatory at the same time. Maybe it was the outline of his semi-hard dick on his sweatpants. But shit, you knew you were in trouble, you loved it, and you might have been this close to drooling. You were glad for forgoing underwear, because it would be absolutely useless and soaked through in an instant.

And Steve hadn’t even started yet.

Stopping right in front of you, craning his neck only a bit to face you (the tall bastard), his wide palms sprawled over your calves, their heat warming you from inside out.

An appreciative hum rumbled in his chest as his touch trailed up at torturously slow pace, drinking in the sight of your ragged breaths, indulging in every inch he laid his hands on. You couldn’t withhold the shudder running through your whole body and his grin widened.

“You’re such a fucking tease….” he whispered, licking his lips as his gaze fell lower again, following the movements of his hands, clasping the back of your thighs now, inching toward their inner part, fingers brushing the hem of your stockings.

“Is it-“ You had to clear your throat against the lump that grew there, your body buzzing with anticipation, the smart remark growing heavy on your tongue. “Is it teasing when you can just take what you want?”

He chuckled, a delicious dark sound, bringing more slickness between your legs, much to his apparent satisfaction as he set eyes on his prize.

“Downright naughty…”

His mouth landed softly on the inside of your right calf, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs to nudge them few inches apart to make space for him.

“Does that… uhm, does that mean I won’t be getting any presents from Santa this year?”

You had genuinely no clue how you managed to form a sentence through the fog of arousal around your brain, only growing thicker when Steve’s teeth grazed the skin above your knee, his fingertips brushing an extremely sensitive spot so close to your core.

“You could come down now, be a very good girl and I might put in a good word for you,” he muttered, biting down some more, drawing a mewl from your lips, another one escaping you when he snapped one of the strings holding your stockings in place.

The sharp gentle pain was enough to make words roll off your tongue.

“You think that would work?”

“Oh sweetheart…” Steve chuckled again, a huff of breath warming your thighs, before his eyes, wide-blown and hungry, met yours. “If it doesn’t… you can be damn sure I’m gonna give you fucking everything I have.”

You yelped when his grip on the back of your thighs tightened and he tugged you forward, your hands instantly going to his shoulders to maintain balance as you found yourself with no surface under your feet all of sudden.

He grinned up at you – the show-off, but by God, wasn’t the demonstration of strength setting your body on fire, rendering you speechless – and slowly lowered you to the ground, half-lidded eyes zeroed on your lips. He made damn sure that you felt his erection against your body at all time as he always loosened his grip and tightened it a second later, until your feet touched the ground – and yet you felt your legs shaking, unsteady with the need to feel more of him.

It dawned to you how crazy he managed to drive you, your roles reversed, your plan backfiring. But was it? Backfiring? Because you couldn’t wait to see how it would unfold--

His hands slipped under the sweater you stole from him, one grasping your hip to hold you tight against his body, fingers of the other diving into the pool of slick between your legs, causing you to jerk forward into his hand.

He leaned down to nip at the skin of your neck right under your ear, forefinger circling your clit for a good measure, drawing a needy moan from you.

“And I bet you’re gonna take it…” he hummed into your ear, satisfied smile audible in his hoarse voice, “and thank me for it like the good girl you are.”

You barely forced the words out, heavy with desire but any less true.

“Yes, Professor Rogers. I think I will.”

“Damn right.”

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S.R. masterlist

Attached masterlist

The One Word (next in timeline)

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I really wanted to come up with an original title… and failed. Also, it was supposed to be a drabble, but you know that I tend to babble… and rhyme, apparently.

Thank you for reading and for any kind of feedback :-*

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