#possessive steven grant

[virtualvault]

Taking Control

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader, Marc Spector x f!reader

Summary: Steven's jealousy over your coworker prompts him to step in and explore his dominant side.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, no use of y/n, toxic/ jealous behavior and brief argument (mostly from the boys but reader gets kinda petty too), inaccurate depiction of DID, dominant/ possessive Steven, teasing/ taunting, dirty talk, begging, spanking, fingering, edging, oral (m receiving), rough sex, p in v, creampie

 WC: 4.8k

A/N: two jealousy fics in a row…sorry not sorry. Also, I know Marc is acting like an irrational ass in the beginning and sorry if you don't like seeing that type of toxic behavior, but he's being over the top/overly dramatic on purpose so hopefully it doesn’t rub you the wrong way. Plus reader says some pretty petty things in response lol

You had a long day ahead of you. In addition to the normal workday, you were asked to take your new coworker, Scott, to dinner just to welcome him and give a run-down of the project your department is currently working on. You meant to text the boys and let them know you didn't need a ride, but you had rushed out of the house this morning and left your phone behind. Luckily, you always leave a note on the fridge telling them not to pick you up whenever you forget to let them know the night before. They know to check there before leaving, so you assumed they'd see it.

You realized it might have been a foolish assumption to make when Scott stopped by the office before taking you home so he could grab some files he left behind. When you arrive, the familiar black sedan sitting alone in the parking lot has your heart dropping to your stomach. You’re pretty sure that they’re here due to miscommunication, but you haven’t had your phone on you all day so you begin to worry that something may have happened, and they couldn’t get a hold of you.

Your coworker must sense your concern since he asks, “What’s wrong?” and looks at you confused.

“Um…nothing.” you reply, unbuckling your seatbelt and slowly making your way out of the car. Scott rounds the front, and your boyfriend climbs out of his car, slamming the door behind him. You can tell your coworker is a bit taken back by the mysterious man in front of him, so you speak up.

“Scott, this is my boyfriend…” you intentionally pause to allow whoever is fronting to introduce themselves. You're almost positive it's Marc based on the deep scowl on their face.

“Marc,” he says while crossing his arms.

"Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Scott.” Scott sticks out his hand as he introduces himself, but Marc doesn’t even look at him. You give him an apologetic look for your boyfriend's gruffness.

 "Babe, what are you doing here?" you inquire, still worried something's wrong.

“Picking you up,” he responds bluntly.

"Oh. Sorry I didn’t text you; I forgot my phone. But I told Natalie to let you where I was if you stopped by looking for me," you reply coolly, relieved that everything is ok, but you sense the irritation in his voice.

“She told me where you were,” he says bitterly, and he turns his head to glare at the man next to you. This is the first time he has acknowledged Scott, and you honestly wish he would’ve just kept ignoring him. Marc is usually a bit standoffish when it comes to meeting new people, but he’s never outright rude, so you’re a bit taken back at his demeanor.

“Have you been here all this time?” you ask incredulously. You’d been gone almost two hours, meaning that he had all that time to stew in his anger, which is clearly about to boil over.

“Yeah, so let’s go,” he impatiently answers.

You turn to Scott. “I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I hope I covered everything. If you have any questions let me know."

“I will. I was thinking we could exchange numbers, you know, in case I- “, before Scott can finish speaking, Marc is pulling you towards the car.

“Thanks for dinner!” you shout to him as Marc opens your door and guides you into your seat hurriedly. Scott gives you a puzzled look at the abrupt goodbye and you flash him yet another apologetic look. Hopefully he'd forget about this whole thing come Monday.

Marc is pulling out of the parking lot before you can even buckle your seat belt, and you turn to him, looking displeased.

“You really embarrassed me back there,” you say and Marc scoffs.

“Yeah, well how do you think I felt?” he snaps.

“What? You were the one acting like a jerk. You knew where I was. I told Natalie to tell you what was going on.” He doesn’t respond and you feel a wave of frustration wash over you as you realize something.

 You fully turn to him, arms crossed, and head cocked to one side. "I also left a note on the fridge. Did you remember to check there?” you ask, brow raised. He doesn’t answer, but judging by the look on his face, you can tell he didn’t. Now it’s your turn to scoff.

“How many times do I have to remind you to check there before you leave?” You shake your head. This isn't the first time he's shown up when he didn't need to. You remind him constantly to check, but it doesn't seem to make a difference.

“You know, maybe I'll start leaving my own notes. I'll be sure to let you know whenever I'm going out on a date with another woman," he snidely remarks.

You let out a dry laugh. You just can’t believe how ridiculous he’s being. He's acted jealous before, but it's usually just an excuse for him to get you into bed, show you you're 'his'. But this time it seems genuine.

“It wasn’t a date! He’s a new hire and I was asked to welcome him to the office. It was purely professional. You have no reason to be upset,” you respond.

"I saw the way he was looking at you, like he was planning on having you for dessert. I bet he was acting like that all night. That prick has no shame," Marc grumbles, but you just shake your head. "You're imagining things," you respond annoyedly, and he huffs.

You spend the rest of the ride in silence as you mentally prepare yourself for a night of sitting on opposite sides of the couch waiting to see who apologizes first. But by the time you pull into the apartment, your irritation has started to dwindle, and you realize you're really not in the mood to fight, so you decide to set the issue aside for now and revisit it when he's calmed down a bit.

You step through the door, set your stuff down, and turn to him. "I know you're upset, but why don’t we just talk about this later? Let's have a nice, quiet night snuggled up on the couch. How's that sound?" you suggest, then pull him to you and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

He hums against your mouth, then pulls away. Leaning his forehead against yours, he mumbles, “I don’t know, maybe I should go spend a few hours with some random woman you don't know, since that’s apparently how this relationship works now.” You scoff and shove him away.

“Just let it go! You know what? Maybe I should’ve gone home with Scott. It'd be nice to be around someone who knows how to act like an adult. I bet he at least has the awareness to see when he's wrong and get on his knees to apologize.” You know it's a bad idea to mention Scott's name again, and an even stupider idea to mention going home with him, but you’re so frustrated you don’t care how Marc might react. If he's going to be petty, so are you.

You turn around to head to the living room, wanting to give him a second to calm down, maybe come to the realization that he’s being ridiculous. To think he would let your little comment slide was stupid of you, and you realize that when you feel him whip you around and press you up against the wall. You know you shouldn't keep egging him on, but you really want to mess with him to get back at him for how he's been acting. So, against your better judgement, you continue.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," you say softly and pull him closer, eyes now boring into each other's.

"I wouldn't go home with him. Why go to the trouble? What I should’ve done was pulled him into the bathroom, spread my legs for him and given him a nice warm welcome to the team,” you say, tauntingly.

You see his eye twitch slightly and he takes a deep breath, probably trying to keep his cool. By now you'd have expected to see that playful smirk on his face that means he's about to take you to the bedroom and shut you up, but he just continues to stare at you. Your goal isn't to genuinely upset him, so to avoid provoking him any further, you wipe the smirk off your face and look at him with wide eyes and small pout on your lips instead. 

“I want Steven,” you whine. Since it doesn't seem like Marc's going to let this go anytime soon, you're ready for Steven to come out. Ready for him to tell you he agrees that Marc is being ridiculous and apologize on his behalf, by way of shoving his face between your thighs, preferably.

He's never able to resist, especially when you ask for him like that, so you stare up expecting to see those soft eyes and that warm smile appear. Marc doesn’t waiver, though, and you think maybe he's blocking Steven out, determined to remain in control.

Marc cocks his head and asks, “You want Steven? Yeah?”, in mocking tone. 

“Why? So he can come out and spoil you? Let you keep acting like a brat?” That’s exactly what you want, and he knows it, so you can’t help the small smirk that reappears on your face.

“I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into. Why do you think he’s stayed silent this whole time?” You raised a confused brow, and now he’s the one wearing a smirk.

"You really want Steven?" he asks, and you nod your head at him slowly.

  "Fine. But you’re going to regret it.” And with that, his eyes close then reopen and his smirk is replaced with a fierce glower, a look so unlike Steven, you think it may still be Marc. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you also feel your insides clench. You don't know if you should be startled or turned on, so you choose both.

 “Steven?” you barely squeak out.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asks, derisively. His hand comes up and grips the back of your neck and he pulls you close. Your breath hitches at the closeness of your lips.

“What? Did you expect me to come out and beg for forgiveness for Marc and then get on my knees for you like a good boy? Let you walk all over me like I usually do?" he snaps.

 While you're definitely the more dominant one when it comes to the two of you, there have been a few occasions he has tried to take control. But he's never gotten very far because Marc always steps in and takes over. You’re momentarily worried Steven holds some resentment for the dynamic you two have, but the way he’s licking his lips as he stares at yours, or rather the hardness you feel against your leg, makes you realize he's just finally ready to unleash this other side of him.

Now that you understand what he wants to do, you feel the ache between your thighs intensifying. Wanting to see what he has in store for you, you decide to test what will happen if you try pushing his buttons like you were doing with Marc only moments ago.

“Of course. That’s what your best at, isn't it? You think you can teach me a lesson like Marc?" scoff. "You don’t have it in you,” As you taunt him you wear a smug look on your face that he's very tempted to fuck off of you.

His eyes darken, then he looks off to the side, and there's no doubt Marc is talking to him; you assume either urging him to take action or demanding to step in and do it himself. You attempt to bring his attention back to you.

“It takes a real man to put me in my place. Like Marc. Or Scott.” And with that he’s pulling you from the wall and pushing you to the room.

He tosses you face first into the mattress and grips the top of your pants. Before he goes any further, though, he’s brushing the hair away from your face and you crane your neck further to look at him. His voice softens and he asks, “This is ok, right? If not, I'll stop, so please tell me.”

You give him a small smile and push your ass back, grinding it against him. “I want it so bad, Steven. Give it to me, hard. Please.”

He sighs, relieved to know he didn’t misinterpret the situation. Also, hearing you plead like that, a tone usually reserved for Marc, sends a rush through him. And then just like that, the gentleness is gone and he’s pulling your pants down and off of you, then tossing them across the room. He settles his hand on the small of your back and leans down to admire the wet patch left behind on your underwear.

He smirks, “This all for me? I do this to you?”

You’re about to give him a desperate, ‘yes’, but before you can, he pulls the fabric up taught, and it wedges deliciously between your folds. You gasp in surprise but follow it with a moan.

“Or is it from Scott?” he says and pulls your underwear side to side, and it swipes over your clit each time. You squirm against the mattress, loving the feeling. You don’t answer him, so he tugs upward on your underwear and, at the same time, lands a quick but firm slap against your ass. You squeal. You continue to ignore his questions in hopes that he’ll do it again. 

This time he gives you a harder slap, and does it again and again until, through gritted teeth, you moan out, “No, for you. All for you.”

He hums in acknowledgment then roams your sensitive skin with his fingers and gives your plush cheek a firm squeeze. You whine at the delicious burn.

Deciding to give your ass a break, he tears your underwear off and flips you over. After ridding you of the rest of your clothes as well, he spreads your legs and settles himself between them. He examines you and then runs his fingers through your folds, gathering the slick forming at your entrance.

“You really get off on this don’t you? Look at you, you practically dripping just from a few spanks." You feel your skin heat at the comment, and you simply nod your head.

“Just a desperate little thing begging to be used,” he says and continues movements, toying with your entrance and intentionally avoiding your clit. The sensation and the filth flowing from his mouth makes you shudder. You’ve never heard him talk like this and you love it.

Getting a bit impatient with the slow, teasing motion of his fingers, you grumble, “C’mon, Steven,” and grab his wrist to move his hand to the bundle of nerves begging to be played with.

“You know I need more. Give it to me," you demand.

Caught up in the frustration of his teasing, you’ve reverted back to that commanding tone which typically has him happily falling into submission. But now, he's having none of it. He’s finally in control and he’s not letting go, not for you or for Marc. He lands a quick slap to your mound, and you gasp as it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. You want more, but before you can ask him to do it again, he squeezes your clit and begins rolling it between his fingers.

"Oh, god Steven!" you squeal and arch your back, prompting him to quicken his movements. The action alone has you on the edge, but before you can cum, he's pulling his hands away. You let out a long, dramatic, whine and open your mouth, ready to complain, but he covers it with his hand.

"No more whining. You'll take what I give you," he says and squeezes your thigh in a harsh grip.

" Thought I was going to let you cum already? Silly little thing, you'll cum when I decide. I'm not done playing with you yet," he says, and you can feel the fresh slick dripping from you in response to his condescending tone.

He removes his hand from your mouth and grabs at your chest while he brings his other hand to your entrance. He slips two fingers in, easily, and you sigh at the relief of finally having something inside you. The delicious sting of him tweaking your nipples combined with the drag of his fingers against your walls quickly brings you to the edge a second time, but all too quickly he's pulling both hands from you and denying you your release once again.

You let out what sounds like a sob and pound your hand against the mattress. You keep getting so close and he rips it away from you every time. The frustration has you on the brink of tears and your lip juts out in a pout. You're not used to this. Marc wasn't lying when he said Steven spoils you. He usually dotes on you and is always more than happy to give you exactly what you want, whenever you want it. He's ready and willing to submit to you and put your pleasure above all else. That's the treatment you're used to. Since you're not accustomed to him denying you pleasure, or anything for that matter, the irritation is written all over your face.

"You’re an asshole. Where’d you learn that from, Marc?” you ask, with more than a little sass in your voice.

Not thrilled with your tone, he undoes his belt and frees himself from his pants, then climbs up your body until his hips are angled towards your face. "I'm getting quite sick of your attitude, love. Let's put that mouth to good use, shall we?" he says as he strokes himself pushing into your mouth. The angle is a bit awkward but the sight of him has your mouth watering and you swirl your tongue around his tip as it breeches your lips.

His head falls back and he sighs. He lets you suck on him just like that for a few moments before he's guiding you further onto his length. He hits the back of your throat, pulling a gag from you, and he feels your throat contract around him. He groans at the feeling and does it again. His thrusts have your spit thoroughly coating his length and even dribbling down your chin. He bites his lip at the sight.

 "C'mon. Get it nice and wet. Yeah, just like that," he says huskily. He throws his head back again and his eyes fall shut. The feeling is heavenly and he has to pull out of your mouth, knowing if you keep sucking him like that, he'll cum down your throat.

He moves down your body, landing between your legs, and you wrap them around his hips. He goes to line himself up at your entrance and you buck your hips and pull him closer. As you feel his dick brush up against you, you let out a pathetic whine, almost delirious with the desire to feel him inside you. He chuckles at your desperation and can't help but tease you further by running his length through your folds.

"You want it? Yeah?" he teases, and slaps his tip against your clit repeatedly. You look at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and beg, "Don’t tease me.”

"What do you mean?" he asks mockingly as he continues sliding his dick against you. It keeps catching on your entrance over and over, but he still refuses to push it in.

"Why are you being so mean?" you ask, and your voice cracks. The sensation is getting overwhelming and you get the urge to reach down and push him in yourself, but you know he'd never give you what you're asking for if you did that, so you stop yourself.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked it. I've seen you writhe under Marc, begging for him to fuck you. That usually gets you what you want, right? So c'mon, beg for it," he demands, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look him right in the eyes.

You're quick to respond, wanting to do exactly as he asks, in hopes that he’ll finally take pity on you. “Please, Steven, I need it so bad. I'll do anything, just please fuck me. Please!"

He feels heat pool in his stomach from hearing you beg for him like that, and he can't hold back any longer. He grabs you firmly by the hips and pushes into you slowly. He groans as he watches his length disappear as you take him to the hilt. “See what you get when you ask nicely?” he says, breathily. Your jaw goes slack and your head falls back at the relief of finally being full of him.

After you've adjusted to his length, he throws your legs over his shoulders, pulls you closer, and leans over you, effectively folding you in half.  The new angle has him reaching so deep in you that you gasp, and it morphs into a broken sob when he begins slamming into you roughly.

He's satisfied at how you're falling apart around him, but he has to focus to keep himself from doing the same thing. The sweet noises you let out with every thrust and how he feels your walls clench around him has his breathing becoming increasingly ragged. He gets lost in the feeling and falters, and his movements slow down. He leans his forehead against yours as he gets lost in your warmth, and whines into your shoulder.

 The change in pace interrupts your previously rapid ascent towards your climax, and you whine right back. "Harder. Please," you beg and reach down and grab his hips, trying to urge him to go faster. He kisses your neck and continues the slow, deep, strokes. It feels good but you need more. You need it harder, faster, and begging is not working, so you opt for the alternative.

 "You're losing your edge, Steven. Maybe I should have Marc come out and do it for you," you threaten. Not appreciating the insinuation that he can't fuck you like Marc can, he snarls and flips you over. He slams back inside you and pushes the side of your face into the mattress.

"Oh please. Please. Please…" is all you can say as he resumes hammering into you, and it has you rocketing towards your release again. You become a babbling, whimpering, mess underneath him as he sets a punishing pace, his dick hitting that tender spot inside you relentlessly.

"I need to…to cum Steven. Please. Please can I cum?" you plead, needing to feel the orgasm he's denied you over and over again.

"Considering all the things you said earlier, I'm not sure you deserve it," he replies, yet he wants nothing more than to feel you pulsating around him as you reach tumble over the edge. He's seen Marc deny you for hours so he's tempted to see how far he can push you. But he feels his own release building, so he'll have to try that some other time.

"I do. I've learned my lesson, I promise. I won't-" a particularly deep thrust pulls a throaty moan from you, and you try to remember what you were even saying, but it seems like he fucked the thought right out of your head. All you remember is that you were begging so you try again. “I…Please. I need it so bad. Please let me cum."

"Say you didn’t mean it," he says, followed by a low groan as he slides in and out of your drenched hole. The way you’re gripping him has his hips stuttering, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

"Wha…What?" you mumble, not really sure what he's asking.

"Say you'd never let a prick like Scott touch you. Tell me you'd never let him inside you," he commands.

You remain silent, willing yourself to compose a coherent thought. He wants you to look him in the eyes when you say it so he pulls out, puts you on your back, and slams himself back inside you in one quick motion. It has your head spinning and you can't do anything but moan and whimper as you feel him stretching you.

"Say it!" he demands harshly, and the tone has you clenching hard around him. He tilts your head by the back of your neck, forcing you to look him in the eyes, and grabs at your chest harshly with the other.

“I wouldn’t let Scott fuck me. Ever. I don’t want anyone else,” you pant.

" And why is that?" he prompts.

"Because I'm yours," you profess. "All yours. No one else can have me."

 "That's right." A small smirk forming on his face at your confession. “Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?”

“You,” you reply, breathily.

“Who?"

“You…” He keeps asking until you finally realize what he wants to hear.

 “You, Steven! Only you can fuck me like this!" you cry out, and in return he lets out a low moan as your words wash over him. It makes him fuck you deeper, so you continue.

"I’d let you do anything you want to me. Anything…anything…anything…” you repeat like a mantra as he continues snapping his hips into you.

His eyes briefly flutter shut as coil in his stomach tightens. He looks at you again and brings his thumb to your clit, forming small circles that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"You can cum. C'mon, cum for me," he commands and as the last word leaves his mouth, your orgasm hits you full force. Your body stiffens under him as you let out a silent scream and drag your nails down his back, feeling the shockwaves pleasure rip through you. He lets out a long groan at the sensation of you clenching down on his dick and your nails dragging across his skin. It pushes him over the edge and he lets out an animalistic grunt spills himself inside you. He's above you, panting, as he continues grinding into you until he's empty.

After a moment or two, he collapses on top of you. You two lay like that as you both steady your breathing and attempt to come down from such an intense high.

 As you run your fingers through his hair, you hear him mumble, “I still like being your plaything. You know that, right?" into your neck and you chuckle. “Just like wanted to see what it was like taking control," he adds as he lifts his head to meet your eyes. You pull his lips to yours and give him a quick, yet searing kiss.

 “Of course I do, baby," you respond, lovingly.

“I do have a request, though. Next time you want to try something new, can you make sure it doesn’t involve acting like an irrational jerk and scaring my coworkers?” The request is more so intended for Marc, seeing as he was the one intimidating Scott earlier, but Steven responds.

“Sorry about all that. I just wasn't thrilled about this Scott guy," he confesses. You raise an eyebrow at him, surprised because Steven has never been the jealous type. Now, normally he isn't, but something about seeing you climbing out of some guy's car, skin a bit flushed from whatever drinks you had at dinner, just didn’t sit right with him. Then, when he saw Scott's eyes glued to your ass as you stepped out of the car, something just came over him.

"Marc suggested I learn to let these feelings out in the bedroom like you two usually do and I guess that was his way of stepping in and helping me do that. I did warn him to tone it down, I promise, but you know Marc…" he says, looking at you apologetically.

“Don’t worry, I'll make him pay for it later," you say, smiling at the thought.

“We can make him pay for it now by going for round two. He’s been begging me to let him out. Says he's dying to get his hands on you.” He grins at the idea of you denying an already incredibly frustrated Marc what he wants.

"Tell him not a chance," you say as you roll both of you over and straddle Steven. He feels a thrill run through body as he already knows he'll be the begging, pleading, mess this time.

[mentalmeles]

Did someone say Dungeon Meshi Stucky AU??

Inspired by this post.

[starboyanomaly]

Marc and Jake as King Steven’s most loyal and fierce knights. The way they crawl to his throne after battle, weary, aching, smearing blood, to slot themselves between his legs. Steven tugging their helmets off, clattering to the ground in this great hall. It’s just them. Steven running his soft hands through Marc and Jake’s sweat-damp curls, thanking them for protecting his kingdom. For protecting him. One knight resting on each thigh, breathing ragged, wet, open-mouthed against Steven. They need him. His skin, his body, anything their king will allow his knights to touch (Everything. Steven allows them everything.) Steven praising them as they kiss him, the curve of his knees, his inner thighs, up his taut belly. Hearing their king - their Steven - sigh in pleasure. How Marc and Jake settle knowing their beloved king is safe because of them.

[sadwetcatmk]

Video slips out of pocket and into the enclosure where you guys are as I walk past

Song is O Superman by Laurie Anderson

[ateenytinytot]

I made the Moon Boys in Finch

Marc deserves ice cream.

I couldn't find Steven's signature jacket, this is the closest I could get.

Jake was probably the easiest to put together

And as a fun bonus:

[therealraewest]

I've gotten to Moon Knight's stint in the West Coast Avengers and I was a bit worried it would take the same route as the 1985 Fist of Khonshu run where Steven and Jake weren't even mentioned but

Everyone getting zapped by a mind control beam and MK looking... Pretty unphased?

Definitely not in pain like everyone around him, until

Oh hey Steven

And then Steven gets zapped and Jake out here basically running up and yelling "boo" (I love Jake Lockley so much)

Even though Marc has been ignoring/suppressing them for years at this point, the MK system came out to help Marc make a good impression on his new potential teammates

Love to see the system working together again

[twicetolivetwicetodie]

Something something Orthax screaming "He's mine!" when Vax saves Percy from Hell vs Khonshu's "You think you own this body? It belongs to me."

If I had a nickel for everytime i've loved a character who has childhood trauma and is coerced into a deal with a supernatural bird entity with a preoccupation with vengeance I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice

[zwartexxroos]

[📼] Headcanons of Marvel Men when you dragged them to watch horror movies together.

(including Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Loki Laufeyson, Stephen Strange, Logan Howlett, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Steven Grant, Joaquin Torres, and Johnny Storm)

Tony Stark

"Horror? You mean, like, fake horror or 'this is gonna traumatize me' horror?"

Jokes the entire time.

Throws popcorn when jumpscares hit—at the screen.

Lowkey startled multiple times but pretends he’s not.

“I wasn’t scared, I was just reacting for your entertainment."

Ends up clinging to you when he thinks you won’t notice.

Steve Rogers

"Sure, I can handle a horror movie."

Lies.

Eyes go wide during creepy music build-ups.

Gasps quietly when something jumps out, then looks embarrassed.

Subtly scoots closer.

Probably ends the night saying, "Let’s balance that out with a comedy next time…"

Bucky Barnes

"No. Absolutely not. I’ve been through enough horror already."

Yet… ends up watching it.

Stone-faced the whole time, like nothing phases him—until a ghost crawls on the ceiling.

“I'm done. That’s some unnatural shit.”

Secretly enjoys how you clutch his arm.

May or may not use the excuse to keep his arm around you all night.

Peter Parker

"Uhh—like horror-horror? Like, paranormal or slasher? Wait—is it gory?"

Nervous bouncing leg.

Grips the popcorn bucket like it's a lifeline.

Hides behind a pillow but still peeks through.

Ends up holding onto your hand like it’s his lifeline.

“Next time can we watch Pixar instead?”

Loki Laufeyson

"Pathetic mortals and their idea of horror. I could do far worse with a flick of my hand."

Unbothered… until the atmosphere gets too real.

Quietly mumbles, “That spirit’s possessing the wrong vessel…”

Smirks, but you catch the tension in his shoulders.

“I am not afraid. But if you are… you may cling to me.”

Ends up clinging to you later when a exorcism scene goes wrong.

Stephen Strange

"I’ve literally fought creatures from beyond time and dimensions, this is nothing."

Fully confident. (at first)

Then something moves in the corner of the screen and he pauses like: “…Okay, that was well done.”

Watches with arms crossed and half-judging the plot.

Casually throws his cape over your shoulders when you get scared.

Will not admit it if he flinched even once.

Logan Howlett

"Tch. Waste of time. Horror ain’t scary when you’ve lived through it."

Sits grumpily.

Grumbles at characters making dumb decisions.

Until the chainsaw scene starts. Then he tenses.

Might slip an arm behind you like it’s no big deal.

“If anything touches you, I’ll gut it. Even if it’s fictional.”

Charles Xavier

"As long as I don’t accidentally pick up on your panic, this should be enjoyable."

Calm and collected.

Then you jump, and it makes him jolt too.

Chuckles softly, brushes your hair aside, whispers: "You’re more entertaining than the film, my dear."

If you already watch it once, would definitely reading your mind halfway through just to know when the scares are coming (he cheats!).

Erik Lehnsherr

"I don’t see the appeal of fear-based entertainment.

Sits through it quietly… at first.

Then absolutely tenses when something crawls across the ceiling backward.

Narrows his eyes like he’s about to metalbend the ghost.

"Why would you enjoy this?"

Kinda loves the way you press yourself against him.

Steven Grant

Super enthusiastic—loves horror lore.

“This one’s got great reviews! You’re gonna love it!”

Halfway through: whispers history of the haunted object on screen “Y’know, in ancient Egypt, they used to believe—”

Will totally grip your hand during scary bits though.

After? “Brilliant film! Fancy another one? Or should I… walk you home?”

Joaquin Torres

“Horror night? I’m in!”

Brings snacks, cozy blankets, a positive vibe.

Ends up screaming once and then laughing at himself.

Constant commentary like: “Nooope. Couldn’t be me. I’d be OUTTA there.”

Sneaks an arm around your shoulders “for comfort.”

Afterwards? “You should totally sleep over—uh—so you’re not scared, of course.”

Johnny Storm

Grinning when you tell him. “Pfft. Horror? Babe, I’m flame-proof.”

Smug at first, loudly mocking the movie.

Then a REALLY good scare hits and he yells and popcorn goes flying.

“I’m still not scared! Just startled!”

Whispers in your ear, “We should do scarier things after this, yeah?”

[nocturnewidow]

hi again! its the same person who asked about pet names <3

I absolutely love your account and your writing, so if you don’t mind i’m going to have an emoji at the bottom of my requests because i’m planning on sticking around! ^_^

anyways- I always love when people write headcanons where it’s like how they sleep (movement, snoring, ect) so i’d love if you’d write something like that for the moonboys.

thank you!

-🐞

How the moonboys sleep (with you!).𖥔 ݁ ˖

+ pet names & sleepy habits headcanons

requested by the sweetest returning anon with the emoji tag!! welcome back, love!!

steven grant⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★

“love” / “sweetheart” / “darling”

Sleeps like a princess,, If you try to wiggle in, he’ll instinctively wrap you up with him in all the warm blankets

Talks in his sleep usually about random museum facts, book plot points, or mumbled “I love you”s that make your heart melt at 3 a.m.

He’s a cuddler through and through. Will absolutely wake up and panic if you’re not in bed, even if you just went to the bathroom.

Soft snores,, Sometimes you have to poke him to make sure he’s still alive because it’s that soft.

Can’t fall asleep unless you’re there. He gets fidgety without your weight beside him, muttering, “Where’s my girl, then?”

marc spector˖ ࣪⭑

“babe” / “doll” / “baby”

Sleeps flat on his back like a soldier. Arms crossed or straight down like he’s ready to bolt if needed.

Has trouble sleeping through the night,, when he does sleep, it’s deep, but you’ll sometimes wake to find him sitting on the edge of the bed just staring into the dark.

If you roll onto his chest, it calms him down instantly. He’ll instinctively wrap an arm around you and mumble, “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Doesn’t snore, but he clenches his jaw in his sleep. You’ll sometimes have to massage it softly to ease him out of nightmares.

His version of cuddling is possessive. A hand on your hip. A leg slung over yours. A protective weight that says mine even in sleep.

jake lockley. ݁₊ ⊹

“mi vida” / “corazón” / “nena”

Sleeps on his side, one arm under the pillow, the other firmly wrapped around your waist. If you try to move? Good luck.

He does snore but it’s low and rhythmic, almost like a purring engine. You get used to it fast.

Warmest body of the three. He radiates heat like a human furnace. Perfect in winter, but in summer its baadd.

Will not admit it, but he loves when you sleep in his shirts. Wakes up in the middle of the night just to pull you closer and whisper “so pretty for me.”

He kisses your shoulder in his sleep without even waking up. It’s muscle memory. Instinct. A sleepy little claim.

[arpicityandneed]

How about a cockholding stucky x black reader

a/n: How about hell the fuck yeah

18+ black f!reader. Husband!Steve. Dom!Bucky. Bi!Steve. Bi!Bucky. Dirty talk. Creampie. Cuckolding.

"Care to share with the class, Rogers?" Bucky drawled before taking a sip of his beer.

"What do you mean Buck?" Steve traced the rim of his beer with his finger, desperately avoiding his best friends eyes. There was no way in hell he was sharing the thoughts running wild in his head.

"You've been staring at your beer for thirty minutes. This is supposed to be our guys night out without y/n. Come on, punk. Talk to me." Bucky could have charmed the birds from the trees if he wanted, and Steve feel his defenses crumbling when Bucky turned his sincere gaze towards him.

"It's nothing." Steve mumbled, his dick already perking up from the embarrassment of the situation. God why was he like this?

"And the sky is green. Bullshit. Alright, you leave me no choice." Bucky took out his phone, showing Steve the screen with your contact on it. "I'll just call your wife and ask her, she'll know."

"No! Please, fuck, alright I'll tell you but you gotta swear you won't laugh." Steve panicked, the last thing he needed was for you to find out what a perv he was.

"That's what I thought." Bucky smirked and settled back into his seat expectantly. "Well?"

"Do you know.. what cuckolding is?" Steve glanced around the bar and kept his voice low, noticing the way Bucky's eyes immediately darkened.

"Now what would goody two shoes Steven Grant Rogers know about that?" Bucky's voice grew deeper. He leaned in close enough that Steve could smell his colonge, spicy and warm and all man. Steve had to readjust himself under the table as he tried to continue, his erection straining in his pants.

"I can't stop thinking about it. I saw a video by accident and..." Steve couldn't finish the sentence but by the way Bucky whistled, low and appreciative his best friend could guess.

"By accident huh. What your fingers slip or something?" Steve flushed a pretty pink at being caught.

"Something like that.” Steve avoided Bucky’s gaze for a long moment.

“So you want someone to fuck y/n?” Bucky asked bluntly, letting Steve choke on his beer for a second before patting his back gently. “Come on Rogers, use your words.”

“…Not someone.” Steve knew his face would be red as a tomato so he kept staring into his beer like it had the answers to the universe.

“Who?” Bucky asked, a slow wicked smile spreading across his lips when Steve refused to answer. “Oh now that’s interesting.”

“She always looks at you anyway.” Steve chewed on his lower lip as he spoke low and quiet. “Plus, I think you’d make her feel good.”

“Steve, if you let me—” Bucky’s pupils were blown wide when Steve finally looked up. “I’d make her cum till she begged for a break.”

~

Steve was having a hard time staying on his feet watching Bucky cup your face in his hands and kiss you for the first time. He sat like a stone on the chair they’d brought into the bedroom, grunting as all the blood rushed to his dick from the sight alone.

“I think he likes it.” Bucky drawled with amusement as he pulled back, noting the hazy look in your eyes as you gazed up at him. “I think you like it too doll.”

“You sure know how to kiss, Buck. Ain’t that right baby?” You called over to your husband as Bucky brushed your braids aside so he could start nibbling on your neck, his hands roaming over your luscious curves so possessively it made you shiver.

“How would I know?” Steve blushed furiously, not realizing how obvious his crush on his best friend was.

“You’ll get your turn Rogers, patience.” Bucky promised as he looked over his shoulder at Steve. “But first I think you wanted a show, right?”

“Fuck yes. Please.” Steve nodded so fast and hard Bucky laughed, some of the awkwardness of the situation disappearing.

“You know your safewords don’t you baby?” Bucky asked you as he started stripping off your clothes, your rich tawny skin exposed one inch at a time. You nodded and Bucky’s hands couldn’t stop pawing at your ass, your tiny waist, even your tits when they bounced free.

“Beautiful.” He breathed as Steve watched the love of his life get manhandled. Steve’s cock wouldn’t stop leaking in his pants, the wet spot growing with each passing moment until he couldn’t resist taking out his shaft and squeezing the base to try and stave off the orgasm that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn’t want to cum until Bucky was balls deep inside you—and god just the thought made his balls ache.

“Flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Barnes.” You ducked your head shyly from the praise but could resist tugging at his shirt with a pout. “Now you, I want to see you.”

“As you command Mrs. Rogers.” Bucky grinned and started tearing off his own clothes hastily, dying to get his hands on you. The second he was fully naked and Steve saw his cock the blond whimpered.

Bucky was fucking hung.

Thicker than Steve’s own cock and with heavy balls Steve knew would knock you up if given half the chance.

“C’mere big boy.” You murmured as you reached out to pull Bucky closer. This time when you kissed you felt his leaking tip pressing into your belly, making your cunt throb with need.

“I’m not gonna last if you keep teasing me.” Steve tried to sound stern but considering he whined the words, neither of you took him very seriously.

Bucky merely gave your ass a squeeze and ordered softly, “Bed. Now.”

Then he turned to Steve and walked over confidently, stopping just shy of shoving his dick in his best friends face.

“You’re going to watch, and you’re not going to cum without permission because that would make you a bad boy. You don’t want to be bad do you Stevie?” Bucky asked quietly, his control over the both of you ironclad without him ever needing to raise his voice.

“No, Buck. Sir. Fuck.” Steve wasn’t even looking at Bucky, not really. He was staring at his cock with shameless longing.

“If you’re a good boy I’ll let you eat my cum out of her. Deal?” Bucky smirked when Steve merely licked his lips. “I need an answer here, Rogers.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good. Promise.” Steve blinked like he was waking up from being hypnotized and just for that Bucky decided he’d have Steve on his knees for him after he was done with you.

“Good boy.”

~

Steve had made a deal with the devil.

How was he not supposed to cum when you were getting pounded into the mattress? Bucky had you on your stomach, prone boned until your eyes crossed from how deep he was inside your dripping pussy.

And he wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

“Best fucking pussy I ever fucked, goddamnit Stevie isn’t fucking you right—” Steve whimpered at that. “No way he’s giving you enough dick if you’re still this tight.”

“He,” you hiccuped, tears on your lashes from cumming so many times until the pleasure was almost painful, “He tries!” you cried and Steve’s tip leaked pre all over his fist as he squeezed as hard as he could.

“Not, fucking, good, enough.” Every balls deep thrust squelched its way through your creamy folds, and Bucky loved watching your ass jiggle every time his hips slapped against it.

“I’m gonna have to bend you over more often baby, gotta give you all the dick your hungry little pussy needs.” Bucky groaned as he got close after an hour of just reveling in how your pussy felt wrapped around him. His stamina and control put Steve to shame without even trying.

“Please…” Steve whined as he watched, his pretty baby blues glossed over and his whole face and chest covered in the pinkest blush.

“Need to cum, cuck?” Bucky got a little mean when he realized how much Steve liked being embarrassed.

“Yes, please, please—” Steve begged shamelessly as he tugged at his balls.

“Come here then, paint her face and tell her how much you like seeing her get fucked.” Bucky purred the words and growled when your pussy clenched around him. “You like that huh? Dirty girl.”

Steve scrambled to his feet and made it over to the bed in record time, jacking his cock furiously over you as you looked up at him so trustingly.

“You’re so -fuck- so fucking pretty baby. Taking his cock like you were born to.” Steve groaned as he came within seconds, unable to hold back any longer. But seeing your beautiful face and plush lips covered in his cum, the pearly liquid reflecting off your darker skin made him hard all over again.

“Good boys get rewarded, Stevie. And I gotta big reward for you.” Bucky fucked you harder as he started to cum, slamming his hips into yours so his cum was tucked safe and sound in the depths of your pussy. His load was thick and hot and overwhelming as it made its was into you. When he finally pulled out your pussy couldn’t hold it all in, leaking onto the sheets as your hole clenched on air.

Bucky leaned back on his heels for a second, enjoying the view, before he grinned at Steve.

“Come on cuck, come get your snack.”

[oddballwriter]

Calling Them your Husband

Warnings: nothing really 

Author’s Snip: I just wanted to make some tooth-rotting fluff so enjoy

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Steven Grant

When you call him your husband, it was originally a joke, sort of

Your friend called you while you were out doing errands with Steven and they asked what you were doing, to which you said "I'm out with my husband getting stuff done."

Steven just blushes and does that goofy little smile he does because he's never heard you say that but now he wants to hear it all the time now

You guys are in a long committed relationship together and you two have been living together for some time now but he's been too anxious to ask about possibly getting married some day. Not knowing if that's something you want or if you just want to cohabitate as a couple instead

But now that he heard you refer to him as your husband (even if it was a little joke) he wants to marry you in a heartbeat so that you can actually call him your husband and he can call you his wife/husband/spouse

He just thinks about it the whole day but doesn't say anything to see if you will call him that again in case pointing it out will cause you to stop. He is a bit more affectionate though, sneaking in a pick on the cheek or something and secretly making goo-goo eyes at you

When you get home and you aren't in range of seeing it Steven starts looking up engagement rings and prices to see which one would look nice on you and try and save up money

Steven also starts to subtly, at least as subtle as he can be, ask you about if you want to get married someday

He's such a dork though, bless his soul, in his brain he's just kicking his feet and giggling. He's looking at prices for venues and planners already.

Marc Spector

Marc has it in him to get married, we know that

But in his mind he doesn't really see himself as "husband material". He thinks that he's got too much baggage that you'd have to deal with if you were married

He acts like you two haven't been living together and splitting the bills and stuff, which is sometimes what marriage is, in the most domestic way possible

To him, he can't really see himself being able to do the whole marriage thing all over again

That was until some drunk creep was hitting on you while you and him were on a date and you told the guy "I'm with my husband" which warded that guy off

For some reason you calling him your husband while you locked your arm with his just washed those feelings of doubt out. Something about it just made him feel so confident

Like "Yeah I'm their husband! Back off!"

After that Marc was more open with himself about the idea of letting that title back into his life and getting to call you his spouse too

He more so likes the ability to call you his spouse. Possessiveness is in him and by god does getting to call you his spouse feed it

Marc will ask about the idea of marriage sometime after that just to see if you like it

If you want to get married then he's on board. But if you think cohabitating suits you better then he's fine with that too

So long as you're there together and you love him then he's content and happy

Jake Lockley

Damn right he's your husband

Honestly ever since you two got serious with your relationship, became committed to each other, and moved in he's just been like "We are married now" in his head

He's never said that out loud but he knows that the feeling is there with you too

It wasn't until you semi-jokingly called him your husband when some girls were checking him out and you huffed and puffed about it

"What's the matter? I wasn't flirting back." "Well, excuse me for not wanting some giggling college girls to be eyeing up my husband."

And that just... made him feel something, in his heart and in his pants

No but seriously. After that night cohabitating and acting like a married couple wasn't enough. He needs to put a ring on you and vice versa

He will go down to town hall and get those damn papers and buy the rings right now

Jake was originally just going to wait until you said that you wanted to get officially married, but he just can't anymore

In the morning you guys are going to buy rings, get the papers filled out, and planning the wedding

He's got the wedding planner on speed dial and a house with a picket fence in the nice part of town ready to go, just say "I do" please

Honestly at this point he never wants to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again. To you, it's either "hun" "hunny" "dear" or "sweetheart"

Light of his life, air in his lungs, fire in his loins

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[virtualvault]

No One Compares

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!reader

Summary: You're going to a party where Steven knows someone who has a crush on you will also be attending. Before you go, he wants to remind you what you have waiting for you at home.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, oral(f) receiving, possessive thoughts/ behavior, fingering, praise, biting (Let me know if I missed anything :))

Word Count: 1.6 k

A/N: This popped into my head the other night and I needed to purge it from my system. Still getting a feel for this whole writing thing and feedback is more than welcome!!

Steven paces back and forth in front of the bathroom door, planning his next move carefully. You’re about to go out for your friend’s birthday dinner and he normally has no problem with you going out, except that he knows he’ll miss you and be a needy mess until you get back. But tonight, you’re going to your best friend Tasha's birthday dinner. He loves all your friends but there is one person he does not want you around. Tasha's brother, Jackson.

You've been friends with Tasha since you were little, and she's like a sister to you. Her brother Jackson had a small crush on you growing up and it seems his feelings have continued into adulthood. You never minded his advances, considering he never made any moves beyond harmless flirting, but what did bother you was that he didn’t back off even when you informed him you were in a relationship. He’s tame when it’s just you but when Steven is there, he turns his antics up to one hundred. It can be annoying, but you don't want to run and tattle on him to Tasha about her brother's little crush. You don't want to cause any problems, and since he never actually attempts to make a move on you, you've decided to just suck it up and deal with it, not wanting to create a big fuss.

As he stands in the hallway, Steven's mind floods with the memories of all the times Jackson has tried to make a pass at you right in front of him and he decides he needs to take action. With a huff, Steven storms into the bathroom and wraps his arm around your waist. You had just set everything out to start getting ready, and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

You think he will leave you be when he notices you are about to start doing your makeup, but instead he brings his hands up to your chest, grabbing both breasts and he pulls you flush against his chest. He starts kissing up and down your neck and you try to wriggle out of his grasp, knowing if you put this off any longer you are going to be late.

"Steven, what's gotten into you?" you ask, although you already know. He always gets like this when you have somewhere to go, trying to get you to stay home and hop into bed with him instead. You think he's just being needy as usual, but you have no idea this has anything to do with Jackson. Yes, you know it makes him uncomfortable when he's around, but the first time he saw how Jackson acted around you, you explained how it would cause more problems to address and was best to just try to ignore it. He accepted, understanding how you didn’t want to jeopardize your relationship with Tasha.

Your boyfriend knows you would never do anything with Jackson. You're loyal and loving and he trusts you more than anyone on Earth, and he knows you would never betray him. He also knows that you didn't actually like Jackson, but sometimes you would play along, flirting back with him a bit to try and keep things from being awkward. Steven knows it’s all fake, but even seeing you feign interest in that guy made him want to lay you down and fuck you so good you forget that any other man even exists.

He decides here and now that he needs to make sure you remember what you have waiting at home for you. He needs to be quick, though, because he doesn't want to send you to the party all hot and bothered. He knows you only ever entertain Jackson to keep the peace, but he can't help the possessive voice in the back of his head telling him he needs to show you that your boyfriend can make you feel better than anyone ever could.

"Steven I'm serious, I can't be late." He ignores you, already sliding your tight dress over your thighs and settling it on your waist. He falls to his knees, planting kisses and soft bites across your ass. He crawls under you to now face your panty covered center. You try to push him away, but he swats your hand and takes off your underwear. Loving the sight of him on his knees for you, you decide you are going to let him continue. On one condition.

"You have to be done by the time I finish my make up. Don't want to send me to dinner all worked up, do you?" you tease. Hell no. He can't let Jackson see you like that. Maybe it would leave you tempted to flirt back, just to blow off some steam. He pulls your leg over his shoulder and shoves his face between your legs.

He wastes no time teasing you, no licking up your folds, no soft kisses to your thighs. He zeros in on your clit, sucking and lapping at it like a madman. You try to steady yourself, picking up your makeup and starting to slowly apply it, keeping your hands as still as possible to avoid making a mess. You struggle to keep your eyes open as they threaten to roll back into your head, the pleasure starting to distract you from the task at hand. You start to grind your hips into his mouth and use one hand to grip the counter. You're surprised you don't fall over, but his strong grip on your thigh and ass keeps you upright. He circles your clit, and flicks his tongue back and forth, just how he knows you like it.

"Fuck Steven, you're so good at that. So fucking good." you say in that low, breathy voice that never fails to turn him on. Spurred on by your praise, his movements become more frantic, and you squeal and start panting above him.

You feel that you're right on the edge, but you pull him away, earning a frustrated grunt from him as he can tell you’re close too. You explain you have to do your eyeliner and really don’t want to blind yourself. While you do that, he starts nipping at your thighs impatiently. He had you right there, you were so close and now he’d have to build it back up. Usually, he’d go crazy about the idea of edging you, but time is of the essence.

You finish and he’s back on you in an instant. Your breathing quickly becomes ragged and you take a moment to look yourself over in the mirror. Your makeup doesn’t look terrible, just a little rushed. All that’s left is your lipstick. You take a minute to examine your lips in your reflection and you see how swollen and full they are from how you’ve been biting them. It should make the color you chose really pop. You silently thank Steven for this by reaching down to run your fingers through his curls. He gives you an appreciative whine and starts sucking harder at your sensitive bud.

You take a few deep breaths and steady your hand as best as you can as you place the applicator onto your lips. Of course, you feel that familiar tightness in your stomach and you know you're about to cum. He hears your desperate moans, and he can tell too. He slips two fingers into you and starts rubbing against that tender spot he knows drives you crazy and you cry out as you clamp down onto his fingers. The surprise intrusion causes your hand to slip and your wrist swipes across your lips, smearing the lipstick onto the corner of your mouth and your chin. You groan in frustration as the waves of pleasure rip through you and you clench down onto his fingers.

Knowing he accomplished his goal, Steven slows his movements and pulls his fingers from your dripping entrance. He wears a proud look on his face and moves his gaze to your arousal that coats his hand. He licks it off eagerly, making sure to clean up your mess. The previous frenzied nature of his touch quickly turns tender as he drags his hands up and down your sides and along your ass and thighs. He cleans you up a bit with his tongue but decides to forgo the washcloth he usually uses. He wants to send you to the party with a reminder of how he made you feel tonight.

He stands, sliding your underwear back on. You’re still gripping the counter and trying to regain composure as he takes his place back behind you and nuzzles into your neck. He chuckles as he catches a glimpse of you in the mirror. You’re clearly a wreck, but he has to admit you did a fairly good job despite the circumstances. Then, as if some switched has flipped in his brain, he latches onto your neck, making you gasp, and you feel his teeth sink into you. After a minute or so of him sucking at your skin, you feel his tongue run across it, soothing the indents he had left. He smiles, satisfied to have effectively marked his territory, and he starts applying gentle kisses instead. He hopes you don't try to cover it up. He desperately wants Jackson to catch a glimpse. Steven grins at the thought.

"You made me smudge my makeup." you whine. Since you'll have to fix it anyway, you turn your head, pulling his lips to yours. You pull back, and admire the fresh lipstick smeared across his mouth. You're tempted to drag him into the bedroom and mark up his dick with it, but you have to go. You sigh, " But I think I can forgive you. I'll reward you for being such a good boy when I get back, ok?"

[nickythehickey]

EDIT: there is now an updated version of this with corrections. go to that one!

*emcee voice* hello sfth fandom, by the request of myself and literally four people (hi @not-an-idiot @very-confused-alpaca @chaostributary97 @bbatcat), i give you

my best attempt at a list of disability representation in the sfthverse

*for the purposes of the list, "disability" includes physical/mental/developmental disabilities, neurodivergence, chronic illnesses, and mental health conditions

*i went through and added as many as i could think of but easily could've missed some. also i can't get the patreon rn so there's no patreon exclusive characters, sorry. if you know of some more feel free to reply/reblog and i'll add them!

canon (either explicit or heavily implied)

bubba (inside the mysterious cube) is stated to be an amputee with prosthetic legs

peter steven (the milkman) is stated to have adhd; granted its a throwaway line but i think it's true. since adhd has a large genetic component, that implies that either janet or david or both likely also has it- my money's on david since peter seems to mostly take after him

post mortem, L (the creak in the attic) is mute and uses mime/sign language and possession as forms of aac

donnie (the detective vs. the christmas tree bandits), my personal blorbo, is explicitly stated to have adhd and a seizure disorder- likely photosensitive epilepsy based on the mentions of the lights in the strip club. "i was never good with numbers" could be interpreted as dyscalculia as well. frankie may also have adhd bc again genetics, but if he does he can mask like a motherfucker

chip (the cardboard stegosaurus) has an unspecified seizure disorder (although i can't find one that turns you french), and while she isn't present, we learn that his mother marie-claire was suicidal

queen of representation that she is, amanda (clarissa's diy wedding) is all but confirmed to have prosopagnosia, or face blindness

according to divorces and teddy bears, the entire north pole elf population has adhd. congrats on the diagnosis luke i mean snowdrop

"that one gas station man" as @doodle-ratz called him (the pilot's final flight) is blind

mrs jeffery (the milkman) was blind at the beginning of the scene, they ended up not going with that but she probably does still have poor vision

the bartender (the hare who wore a sweater) slut dropped so hard his knees exploded, and that's now a sentence i've said on the internet. im.... not sure what to count this as tbh, but as a person with vague undiagnosed joint fuckery myself, he makes the list regardless

they don't like... SAY IT say it, but john hobson (the creak in the attic) with the whole "thunderstorm killed my parents" thing probably has ptsd. like yall see it too right

based on body language, granddad (wine under the bridge) appears to use a walker, suggesting mobility issues

headcanons (still implied like at least a little bit but mostly up to interpretation, this is mine)

*(this one's messy, its more me sensing vibes than anything else, there's almost definitely some projection in there, honestly you can disregard it if you want. spoilers its mostly autism bc that's me)

frankie (the bard with a scar) says that he can't run fast, maybe implying mobility issues? i like to think so

i don't think their ages are ever established so i may be completely off base and they're just meant to be children, but jimmy (toby's secret pocket) and jeffery (party quirks) are both autistic teenagers/young adults to me. jeffrey specifically bc he reminds me immensely of how i acted the first and only time i threw a party

i get... a vibe. from titch (the unrelenting aubergine). im not sure what it is, but its there

fellow autistic people yk how there's this weird kinda split that happens where when you're a kid people think you're mature for your age but then once you're older people think you're immature? yeah johnny and janae (the neighbor's under the bed) are the extreme incarnation of that dichotomy

someone in the comments of ballet on the battlefield pointed out alexa stimming after she befriends janusz and i love that so im saying she's some flavor of neurodivergent

troll-son (wine under the bridge) probably has some kinda allegory for something idk

because of the way i visualize character designs for sfth, pretty much any character luke played while wearing glasses (like andrew (all eyes on nigel) or fullset o'hands) also wears glasses. im not gonna list them all just know they're included

i've been working on this list for seven hours. i feel like sysiphus (thats a very smart reference). im going to bed

EDIT: if you're seeing this now there's an update in the reblogs!

[ramp-it-up]

Peach VI

Peach V | Peach VII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. You two FINALLY admit your feelings for one another and seal the deal. But how far are you willing to go for this love?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: This is it! I hope the smut is up to par. When I tell you I’ve agonized about this. But thank you to all who were in my inbox and dms giving me encouragement this week. Love you bunches! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach V. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, eye fucking, Steve Rogers is an artist, y'all!, sending (almost) nudes, phone sex, possessive Steve, references to shibari, mutual masturbation, pining, references to sex in a car, the "L" word, oral (f recieving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple play, size kink, pleasurable pain with sex, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint, references to murder. Something big may or may not happen after the last line.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering, emotional, mess.

He’d made you cum, hard, but you felt that he was holding back, that if you’d told him how you felt it would have been so much better.

Or maybe that was all in your mind. Steven Grant Rogers was on your mind a lot since you met him as Grant Stevens in Atlanta.

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out. 

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

What’s the worst that could happen? You weren’t going to marry the guy, you just want to explore these mutual feelings. It shouldn’t be complicated.

Right?

You still had the rest of the week in New York to stress out about it, so that was a plus. The afternoon was ahead of you and the next day was the Summitt.

After that, you had your one on one with Steve.

Bucky told you about Steve being an artist himself during your meeting with him. So, for your meeting with Steve, you requested that you see some of his artwork, and he agreed.

You were curious to see what he could create, and you were anxious and turned on at the thought of him as a creator.

You were so into Steve Rogers.

And you didn’t know what you were going to do about that.

—--

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left. He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage.

He needed a drive and a little alone time to clear his head and come down from you, but he also needed his friend’s help.

“Wassssaaaap! Did you get the–”

Steve cut Bucky off.

“Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Meet me on 47th street.”

—-

That afternoon, you just kept your distance from Sharon and ignored her, focusing on the task at hand and all business. You didn’t want to waste energy on her.

Your energy was spent on thinking about Steve and wondering if he was thinking of you too. You wanted to text him, but you were chilling. You didn’t want to seem to eager.

You were successful in your self control until 11 pm as you tossed and turned in your hotel king bed. Doubts, but mostly need and desire, coursed through you. 

You were going to find out exactly what Steve was doing right now and who he might be with. You shook your head at how much you cared; it was definitely not something you regularly did. You weren’t used to feening for someone.

You were choosing violence as you posed on the bed in front of the mirror. You sat on the bed, crossed your legs and snapped a picture.

You weren’t naked, but your panties were skin tone and your sleep bra was sheer and you were feeling needy.

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

—

Steve was ready for the Summit, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Sleep was elusive, so he was self medicating, sketching your body from memory of mostly touch.

His phone vibrated and he almost didn’t pick it up, but when he saw your name, his heart sped up.

He clicked through to your message and his heart started hammering in his chest. 

Sorry, wrong thread.

The picture you sent along threatened to give him a heart attack. He zoomed in a couple of times and then read the message again. What the fuck?

——-

In less than a minute your phone was ringing. You picked up immediately.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Peach.”

Steve’s growl got you wet, but you instantly regretted your horny decisions.

“It was a mistake.”

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?”

You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

Your voice was needy and that awakened a hunger in Steve. He was beyond frustrated that he wasn’t there to spank your ass raw, but he remained quiet.

You sensed his mood.

“If I were there, I’d make it up to you…”

You were testing the waters, experimenting to see if he would give you what you wanted despite his annoyance.

If he would give you what you needed.

“What would you do?” 

Steve’s baritone was silk in your ear.

“What?” 

You suddenly found that you couldn’t breathe.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I’d kiss you,” you rushed out in a whisper.

Steve paused, letting your sentence hang in the air.

“And?” 

There was an edge to the question. 

“And… My lips. All over you.” 

Fuck, he was hard. Just a few words in your husky voice, and Steve delirious, imagining his hands in your hair as you kissed him.

“Where?” he asked mercilessly, his voice broken with lust.

“Everywhere…your face, your neck, your nipples, your abs. Your cock.” 

You were definitely not a virgin, but you were blushing through the phone although your hand was rubbing the skin at the edge of your underwear.

“Want you in my throat.” 

Steve had to concentrate to stay hard. 

“Oh? What if I want more than that?” 

“You can have whatever you want...” 

A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission.

“You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly. 

“I trust you.” 

Holy fuck. Why did that mean everything to him?  He cleared his throat.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

“Okay.” 

You complied so readily, it made Steve even harder.

Your clit was so hard as you circled it.

“Are you wet, Sweetheart?” 

You moaned and Steve reached into his sweats and curled his fingers around his aching cock.

“My pussy is so messy for you, Mr. Rogers,” you whispered, thrilled and afraid of how much you wanted him. 

Steve rolled his eyes as his cocked jerked for you.

“Such a good little slut.” 

“Fuck…” 

You realized the breath you’d been holding as you listened for his voice.

“Your pussy is so beautiful Peach. And god, you taste so good. Just like a sweet peach.”

Steve knew he had you in the palm of his hand. But fuck, you had him in yours too. 

“But your cunt is so tiny. I’m gonna needs to get you ready for me, Baby.”

“Is it going to hurt me?” you whined. 

Steve was about to explode at your little innocent voice asking the most nasty question.

“Yes, Peach. It is,” he growled as your anticipation reached 100.

Your breath sped up and so did your fingers. Steve grunted, his fist moving faster, thumb swiping the copious dribbles of precum dripping from his slit.

He should have known it was over as soon as he opened your message.

Hot sex was happening.

Electronically.

As the coil in your belly wind tighter, you realized with both joy and dismay that you were addicted.

“Steve, “m so close…” 

“Of course you are.” 

Steve soaked up your cute little sex sounds, thirsty for more. 

“You know what I’m thinking about, Doll?” 

A shaky breath was your only response. Steve continued.

“I think I want to tie you up. Silk ropes all over you, pretty little knots. I’d tie your arms behind your back, so those tits would sit up pretty for me to slap, lick and suck. That ass would be tied up so sweet and open so I could eat it.”

Your eyes rolled at the sensations his words and your fingers were sending to your clit. 

“I’d fuck your throat and cum all over that soft, sweet body. Over and over, while I tease your greedy little cunt. I want to see it drip down your delicious nipples, your belly, your hungry pussy, your pretty face. I need to see all of you covered in my cum. Everywhere, marking you as mine…Mine.” 

You gasped, and then moaned and your entire body tightened up then released.

Your mouth hinged open as you came. 

“Mine,” Steve hissed, tightening the knots around you both and jerking his cock until cum spurted out. He listened to your breathing and knew that you’d just cum as well. 

Suddenly, he missed you.

“You good, Peach?”

You hesitated.You heard the yearning in his voice and you wanted to be in his arms, but you lied to him anyway.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled at you. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see.

“Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow.”

“Night Steve.”

—---

You needed a distraction.

Steve looked so delicious this morning, sitting on stage and serving art intellectual in a dark turtleneck and brown corduroy suit. A suit that was tailored to the detriment of everyone who looked at him. 

Holy shit.

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.  

And he made you feral.

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp.

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

You teased her some more until you saw Steve. You sighed and gazed at him, straightening your spine as you remembered how he made you cum twice yesterday. And he’d hardly touched you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Steve’s head turned. Those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared in an instant. For a moment, you were frozen. Pinned in your seat by his magnetism.

This feeling was so heady.

When you realized you’d been caught staring Steve down, you tried to change the unspoken subject.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

“Fucking-A.” 

Her chuckle was all-knowing. Then she read you.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You couldn’t front anymore.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea about everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She was speechless and so were you. You both continued enjoying the forum when your phone buzzed.

You look beautiful today. You’re my favorite thing to study. Can’t wait for today’s art experience. Meet me at the Laguardia Place entrance immediately after the talk. Sunlight is precious.

You were his favorite thing to study!

You waited on the edge of your seat until the end of the summit. Then you were up and walking out toward the entrance post haste.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you saw Steve watching you from the door of Rosenthal Pavilion.

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs.

In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Holy hell.

His deep voice greeted you as you arrived.

“I’m anxious to get started.”

Steve searched your face and found a different look from the partially closed off expression you’d showed him since Thanksgiving.

Your face was open and trusting. His heart did a funny thing in his chest. It was almost too good to be true.

Could you love him, too?

He tempered his mood with sensible words, filling the space that he wanted to fill with romantic declarations.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite artistic landmark in the city. I’ve loved it since I was a boy.”

You smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

—--

The driver that was taking you and Steve to your meeting place was the same one who picked you up from the airport. The one that your cousin knew so well. 

You stared at the back of his head and then glanced over at Steve. He raised his eyebrow at you because of the look on your face. You grinned back, then leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.

“So… Nico…” 

Your eyes cut over to Steve with a mischievous look. His heart beat out of his chest at the joy you were serving him along with your chaos. 

“You ever drive my cousin and Bucky around the city?”

Nico stole a look at you and smiled.

“Yes ma’am. All the time.”

“Do they ever do the nasty back here…?”

Nico laughed heartily as Steve shook his head.

“Peach…”

You shushed Steve.

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…”

Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

—-

Nico stopped the car at the Washington Avenue entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Steve got out, shouldered his backpack, and then reached for your gloved hand with his own.

For some reason, you felt like a princess as you stepped on the path. The air was crisp, and there were traces of snow lingering on the ground.

You came out of the car chattering and laughing, making Steve’s heart light.

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….”

“Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…” 

Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, although he fantasized about christening the backseat of the Lincoln for you and him.

The wrought-iron gate creaked softly behind you as you entered the Garden, and you looked around in wonder as the gravel path crunched beneath your boots. A magnificent metal and glass structure was in front of you.

“This is the Steinhardt Conservatory. Wait until you see the inside.”

Steve smiled and took your hand as you stepped through the glass doors into sudden warmth shaking your head at him. 

There was a heavy scent of flowers and a haze of the waning rays of sunlight beaming through the glass panels overhead. It gave everything golden highlights, including you and Steve. 

You squeezed his hand as you looked around in awe. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

And then you noticed that he was looking at you. 

“Yes…”

You grew warm as you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“It’s like a completely different world in here.”

“It’s our world for the moment. Just you and me.”

He wanted to add the word Forever, but he didn’t. You felt it though.

You started on an indoor path and Steve pointed out the unique flowers and plants in his warm baritone. You were impressed, again, with how much he knew.

Steve Rogers was not a stereotypical mobster. This was a man who followed a path in life that landed him where he didn’t want to be and was trying to make up for it. 

As he spoke, Steve drew you into his enthusiasm, and you found yourself smiling and relaxing, asking questions and marveling at the vast indoor space. 

When you came to a small alcove furnished with a wooden bench and beneath a sprawling magnolia tree, Steve stopped and took his backpack off his shoulder, and then taking off his coat and draping it over the bench as you did the same.

"Please, sit." 

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the subtle command.

You hesitated. 

"Why?"

"So I can sketch you."

Your stomach did an odd little flip. 

"Here? Now? I wanted to see your sketches, not be your sketches."

You performed on stage in front of hundreds with barely no clothes on and you were so nervous to let Steve Rogers sketch you with winter layers of clothes on. What was wrong with you?

Steve raised his eyebrow and his gaze swept up your body slowly, making you shiver. Clothes couldn’t stop the intimacy of that look.

“Too late for that.”

You raised your eyebrow at him and you felt irrationally happy. Steve had drawn you.

“Do you not trust me?”

You regarded him, guardian your reaction because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“I do Steve. I trust you.”

It was true.

Steve smiled. 

“Then please, sit down.”

You gave in with a sigh and lowered yourself onto the bench. 

"Fine," you muttered. "But no weird artistic liberties. I better have a nose."

Steve chuckled, flipping open the sketchbook. 

"I make no promises."

You watched as he proceeded to balance the sketchbook against his bended knee. Then he looked at you seriously, holding your gaze for a moment before his attention returned to the page, and his pencil began gliding effortlessly across the paper. 

His thick fingers were surprisingly agile, moving with long, sure strokes. But then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised, with the way his fingers had previously made you feel…

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft scratch of his pencil against paper. 

You attempted to sit still, staring at the plants around you. You also tried to pretend that you weren’t aware of the way he studied you with that relentless focus, switching his gaze between you and the sketchbook.

After a few minutes, Steve made a soft noise, something between a hum and a chuckle.

“What?” you asked, turning your head and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing.” 

He didn’t look up. But he spoke.

“It’s just... you’re trying so hard not to move, but you’re fidgeting anyway.”

You caught the hint of humor in his tone and it made you a little too happy again, so you decided to cause problems. 

"Well, maybe if you didn’t look at me like that.”

"Like what?" 

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, looking up at you quickly, then back down.

You fidgeted again.

"You know…"

Steve chuckled, deep and low and shook his head.

"Oh. Am I ‘sparkling my eyes at you again?’”

You scowled at him and he laughed.

“I'm an artist, Peach. I study form." 

His eyes traced up and down your body, lighting you on fire again.

You clenched your thighs together to fight the flow of arousal threatening your thighs. This was dangerous. Steve was dangerous.

"You're insufferable, Steven."

“Well, can you suffer on a little longer, so I can capture more detail?”

You cocked your head in that adorable way.

“What details do you need?”

“I need…” 

Steve looked at you like he needed all of you. 

And he did. 

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

You unclenched your hands and sat back.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He tapped his pencil against the sketchbook. Then he looked down again to continue drawing.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

He licked those red lips of his and your eyes tracked the movement.

"The fact that I make you nervous."

The way he was looking at you made butterflies riot in your stomach. That special electricity was buzzing around you both. 

Suddenly, his pencil stopped. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face slightly.

You stiffened.

"Hold still," he murmured. 

His thumb ghosted over the curve of your jaw and settled at the edge of your throat.

Your breath hitched.

Steve’s eyes were dark now and his voice was softer when he spoke again, but there was an edge to it now, hinting at something rough beneath the surface.

“You always do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“React like this when someone touches you.”

You pursed your lips together and shook your head. 

Just you.

"You’re doing it again," he mused as he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb.

"What, Mr. Rogers?"

You were about to combust. He clenched his jaw and increased the pressure of his fingers on your neck.

"Fighting it."

"I- I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do," he intoned, his voice stern.

"Don’t hide from me, Peach." 

Your pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

"You think I don’t notice how you react to me?" 

Steve’s hand grasped your throat, pressing more firmly before he let go.

"Hold. Still," he murmured, those blue, blue eyes stormy.

His fingers tilted your face up with authority now. You froze for a moment as his thumb came up to pull your chin down to open your mouth.

“Breathe.”

He slowly pulled his hand away and you had to stop yourself from chasing his touch. 

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. If he had to guess, you were wet and ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you right now. But he willed himself to be patient. 

He picked up his pencil again, rolling it between his fingers, like nothing had happened. 

"Good girl," he offered to the page as he returned to his sketch.

Steve knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he affected you. You waited impatiently, clenching your thighs together desperately as his pencil continued to scratch on the paper. 

"Done," he said, as he lifted the sketchbook toward you.

You gasped as you looked at the page. 

The drawing was stunning. Steve had captured you with uncanny accuracy, from the curve of your parted lips to the shading of the different colors in your eyes. The hollow of your throat seemed to pulse, and you could almost see the indentations of his fingers. 

The portrait was beautiful. And it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

“This is… how can I thank you?”

Steve’s heart flipped in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him on the bench.

"Steve…"

His eyes went to your mouth.

"Say that again," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Your whole body was burning, but you stayed quiet. You were paralyzed with the possibilities.

"No? Too shy now?"

His voice made you impossibly wet. If you gave in, you were about to get everything you didn’t know that you wanted. And that scared you.

You let out a shaky breath. 

"Steve."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something hot.

“Have I told you that I love the way you say my name?”

His hand came up again against your side, slowly, more deliberate. His fingers moved over the curve of your side, and slid against your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple.

He continued, tracing over your cleavage and finally landing against your throat again, pressing against your pulse and driving you crazy.

"You're shaking," he murmured, voice low, thick with need.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and gave you a kiss against your throat. And he lingered, lips warm against your skin, before pulling back just enough to smile against your skin.

Your whimper told him so much. 

"You act so tough, but you’re so easy to ruin."

You raised your arms and pulled him close, fingers playing at the nape clutching the hair spilling over his collar.

“You made me this way, Steve. And I don’t want you to stop.”

His now dark blue eyes searched yours as his fingers tightened on your waist. 

“What does that mean, Peach?”

He’d pulled you closer, his eyes on your face as he waited for your answer. The anticipation was so much. He huffed and then dove into the curve of your neck, inhaling and tasting you there, as if he couldn’t help himself. His large hands palmed your breasts, pressing your nipples insistently.

“Oh…my….Steve!”

You squirmed in his grip.

“I asked you a question. Do I need to stop touching you so you can answer?”

“Please, no, Steve. Need you...”

You were the queen of changing the subject.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

His lips were on the curve of your jaw, so close to your lips. You whined. He cocked his eyebrow, the question not so silent.

You huffed, making your decision to go for it as your hands came to the side of his face so that he knew your intentionality. You wanted to look into his eyes when you said it.

“Moment of honesty? I want you Steve. I feel…I want to be yours. Really been yours since you put your hands on me in Atlanta. I can’t categorize or control this feeling. So I’m giving in. Are you ready for the chaos that is me being yours?”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent.

When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…”

His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“And this feeling? This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be.”

He kissed you again and his mouth took possession of yours in a way that was tender, yet full of promise. 

“I gotta let you know that if you’re mine, I’m gonna give you what you need. When you need it. Do you want that? Do you trust me with that?”

This was the important question.

“Yes, please. I want that, Mr. Rogers, sir. And I trust you.” 

"That’s so fucking hot… but I’m trying to behave. Even though I reserved the pavilion just for us, we’re still in a public place,” he murmured. 

His voice was calm, controlled. But those sea blue eyes told a different story.

"You call this behaving?"

You rolled your hips against his cock. Steve kissed you again and let out a sexy chuckle, then stood you both up, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If I wasn’t," he murmured, "you’d already be begging me for more." 

You linked your arms around his neck and looked up at him as the cutest woman on earth.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.”

Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled.

“We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Steve reached for your coat and helped you with it before putting his own on and gathering his things. He took your hand and led you out and across the grounds. He pointed to a familiar building. 

“Your hotel is right there. Or do you want me to call Nico to take us to my place?”

You looked up at Steve as your breath vaporized in the cold air.

“We need my hotel. I’m ready. Right now.”

—--

You were in your room again, not entirely sure how you arrived, the journey through the park hurried and full of anticipation. You weren’t thinking too hard, you just knew you needed Steve. Immediately.

You were pushing his coat and blazer off his body and feeling his chest. The steady thrum of his pulse tapped a staccato in your palm.

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered. 

“You do that to me, Peach.” 

“Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“You have no idea how much power you have, do you?” 

“Me?” you asked in a small voice. 

Steve nodded.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

It was confession time.

“It’s you that has the power, Steve. I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice gets me there.” 

You felt tongue tied as you told him your raw feelings, all the while taking off your and his clothes. 

“Sometimes I — I think I'm going to cum just from hearing you speak. Today, at NYU, I could hardly sit still. You're like a drug, pulling all my attention.” 

Steve’s shirt was off now and you were in your bra; he pulled you near him to get his mouth on you.

“When I'm near you, I'm so hard it aches.”

 “Really?” you whispered. “Are you aching right now?” 

Steve groaned as you pulled back to unzip your skirt and take off your boots. He leaned back against the wall and palmed his crotch over his pants. 

“Like you wouldn't believe.” 

Steve couldn’t believe that he had you here like this, giving yourself to him. He had to tell you the truth.

“Look at me, Peach.”

You looked into his eyes.

“I’m In love with you.”

His rough voice pulled an involuntary sound from you. 

“You're mine, Peach You always have been.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart thudded against yor ribs.

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.”

Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry. 

Not at all. 

He laughed as an expression of joy and then your lips met.

The kiss wasn't soft or sweet. This was feral, sharp, and intense. You moaned into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into yours as he unhooked your bra.

“I fucking want you,” you whimpered into his mouth. 

Steve smiled against your lips.

“Good, cause I fucking need you, my sweet Peach.”

Steve stood, looming over you, all big and fucking magnificent. The vision of him, all lithe muscles covered in smooth skin, and light feathering of hair making its way down his torso, between the defined planes of his abs and into his waistband, was… Good Lord.

You licked your lips, mouth instantly dry. 

Steve’s mouth hooked up on one side as his fingers worked his belt and fly. His pants fell in a matter of seconds, and there he was, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

Steve was all thick thighs, and long, powerful legs, his hand slowly stroking himself over the sizable bulge in his underwear. 

You gaped at him. 

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

His dick was long and wide, at least eight or nine inches, and curved eloquently (if a dick could do that) against his abs. It was so pretty and your mouth watered for it at the same time your pussy clenched, as you were thinking he was correct. You would struggle to take him.

His smirked deepened as he reached for you and pulled your panties down slowly, his short fingernails scratching your legs and making you shiver.

For a moment he just stared, drinking in the sight of you spread before him

“Fucking sublime,” Steve breathed, the words filled with reverence. 

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.” 

He leaned over you and set about doing just that, kissing you deep and filthy, tongue diving to claim every inch of your mouth. You cried out, scratching at his broad shoulders as he suckled and nipped, worshiping your breasts until you were mindless with sensation. 

Steve took his time tracing your torso with his lips, teeth and tongue, learning your body and  paying attention to every sigh of pleasure as he climbed down your body.

The press of his mouth to your pussy made your back arch, and a ragged moan escape your mouth. Steve growled into you, the vibrations running through your soaked cunt.

He parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, and dove to lick your clit with the hot velvet of his tongue. 

Slow, thorough licks made you writhe beneath him. 

“That’s it,” he whispered, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Ride my face, Sweetheart. Fuck my mouth ‘til you cum all over it.” 

You arched like a bow as he latched on to your clit and sucked, two thick fingers thrusting deep to stroke along your inner wall. His practiced fingers found your g-spot and massaged it ruthlessly, curling and scissoring until you sobbed his name.

“Love when you call my name, Peach.”

He looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, and then continued what he was doing. When Steve bit down gently on your clit, your orgasm crashed over you in a burst of white light. 

You shuddered through the aftershocks, trembling as Steve lapped at your folds. Each lick sent a jolt of electricity through you, on the edge of too much. 

Rising to his knees, the thick, heavy length of him rose up again, even more swollen and glistening at the tip. 

Steve notched the thick head of his cock at your entrance and his eyes crossed as he slowly sank into your tight, dripping heat. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

When he bottomed out, you both groaned at the intensity of the connection. He looked you in your eyes as your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you got used to his size.

“I’ve never felt so full, Stevie…”

You quivered in his arms. And he knew that he was utterly possessed by you. It was more than just physical; it was an overwhelming sense of rightness. 

“Perfect,” Steve rasped.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Like you were made for me.”

He dropped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, pausing to suck hard at your pulse point. 

“Please,” you whimpered, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “Move.”

“As you wish.” he whispered, brows knitted together. 

You whimpered and your hands grasped the sheets as he started to move. He bent and sucked your nipple hard, causing a jolt of electricity through your body. Your brain was cloudy and you scratched his back as your eyes shuttered closed.

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Steve ordered darkly. 

As he looked you in your beautiful eyes, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He started increasing his pace until he was fucking you roughly, pushing your knees to your chest. 

“Yes.. feels so good Steve. Oh my godddddd, fuck me!”

Steve’s eyes roamed your body as he did as you asked. Your beautiful breasts bounced. The bed knocked against the wall and you gasped for breath, your face transfixed on the eye contact between you and Steve.

He was lost, one hand gripped your hair, and the other braced on the headboard. He fucked you hard, grinding against your clit with every stroke. 

You were whimpering, on the verge of screaming as you two made noise up and down the hotel hallway.

He leaned up and grasped your throat, gritting his teeth as he asked a question.

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?”

“Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….” 

You opened your eyes and pouted up at him.

“Paint my walls, Steve...”

Steve choked on air as he spurted hot cum into your welcoming pussy, but he pulled out, shooting the last jet of cum on your clit and pussy lips. Then, like a heathen, he bent between your thighs and started licking. 

You sobbed, writhing as he devoured you. 

“Need to eat you more than anything, my sweet, sweet Peach. 

“Steve, Stevie… oh my god!” 

You clutched his hair, tugging sharply. It was too much.

“Oh my God. Please Steveeeee!” 

He raised his head, grinning as you fully collapsed, limp and spent. Your pussy was tender, your face flushed, your eyes gleaming. 

You were beautiful.

You looked at him and shook your head as he took you in his arms. 

“Are you mine?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered out. 

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair.

“I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

—

You and Steve stayed up late, ordered room service and talked about a lot of things, music, your parents, his friendship with Bucky, Nat, and Steve, everything.

You laughed and cried, and then settled back in his arms in the dark to sleep, his hand rubbing your hip as his breathing began to slow.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

It had been nagging at you for a while.

His sleepy voice answered you.

“Shoot.”

You chuckled.

“That’s just it. Have you ever… have you ever killed someone?”

Steve stirred, pulling you closer to him and moving his mouth next to your ear.

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.”

Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“What?”

You tried to keep your voice even. You didn’t know what this feeling was that came over you. Steve continued, seemingly calm and not spiraling like you were.

“You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

You were silent for a good while.

“Oh.”

Steve stirred, leaning up against his elbow.

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?”

Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

You laughed.

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.”

“True. But when you know, you know.”

Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating.

“Would it make us look crazy…?”

You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark.

“…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled down again. Your mind spun as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and you spoke again. 

He was probably asleep, but you had to get it out.

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

——

I’m so anxious about this one! Please let me know how you feel? Reblog, comment, like. TIA!

Read Peach VII

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

No restraint

Yandere!Steven Grant x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, smut, darkfic, delusional Steven, dub-con, non-con, implied kidnapping, implied captivity, obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of stalking.

Steven knew next to everything about you. And all it took for his obsession with you to start was a simple, normal talk.

He knew the way to your place almost like the back of his hand, how easily he could march in with the right tools.

Of course he knew nobody would even consider someone like himself capable of such cruel things, but his determination for you made him do nearly anything.

Tonight's the night.

Where Steven is going to finally see you up close, to finally show you what you, even if, by accident, made him do for you.

Steven was tired of watching you, he was so tired of jerking off to the thought of you. He wants the real deal.

While you slept peacefully in your bed, Steven managed to break into your home, creeping through the place until he slowly opened the door into your room, revealing you, and stalking carefully towards you.

His breathing almost hitched from all the excitement he felt, you were so close.

It wasn't hard for him to get you immobile in your own bed. Tape around your wrists and mouth did the trick.

He could watch you for hours. You, trapped in your own home with him. Even tied up you looked so stunningly beautiful.

The feeling of a hand on your cheek caused you to wake up, instinctively trying to move when you felt your wrists being tied and tape covering your mouth.

Steven smiled. "Heyia sleeping beauty."

You looked up at him, trying to push yourself away from him, but he held you in place with his hand on your shoulder.

"Nope, not doin' that, love." He scolds gently.

With a soft sigh, Steven straightened up. "Excuse me if I'm a little excited," he slowly started pulling your covers down "but," he stopped once the covers were at your waist "I'm just so happy to finally have you."

He resumed pulling the covers down, admiring every inch he revealed.

After he removed them fully he threw them carelessly to the side and stepped closer.

"You're so bloody beautiful."

Steven grabbed both your ankles, pulling you closer to him.

"I just couldn't satisfy myself with only looking at you from afar. I need you with me."

His fingers slowly trailed up your leg, he catched your gaze with a sharp look.

"You know what I have to do now, yeah?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

Steven leaned a bit close, his hands now moving to undress you.

"Nod if you know now." He demanded lowly, his eyes flicking down between your legs before up to your face again.

You nodded, your breathing intensified as you realized what he is going to do to you.

Steven smiled softly. "Don't you worry, luv." he reassured, climbing on the bed between your legs.

You immediately started shaking your head, trying desperately to get him off the bed, but Steven restrained you quickly with his hands on your hips.

"No no, don't make a ruckus now."

Steven moved a hand to your between your legs, running his fingers through your lips.

"But let's get you nicely wet first."

You tried squeezing your thighs shut but Steven kneeled right between knees and held your thighs open.

"Don't fight it, luv."

His fingers gently pushed against your cunt, dipping two inside, scissoring them to stretch you out.

"Can you already imagine your wet cunt wrapped around my cock?"

You tried to fight it by arching your back and push your hips away, but each time, he simply pulled you back.

"Stubborn little thing, are you?" Steven smirked.

Despite yourself, your hole slowly started getting wet, and even more wet the longer Steven thrusts his fingers in and out.

His fingers were soon coated in your wetness, and he removed them, moving to undo his pants and pulling his cock out, giving himself a few strokes, then leaned over you, supporting himself with one hand at your side.

"You'll enjoy it like I will." He chuckled, positioning himself and pressing his tip against your wet hole and slowly pushing inside.

"Oh fuck.." He groaned, his hips stuttering as he enjoyed feeling your warm, tight cunt wrap around his cock.

Steven bit his lower lip, "God, you feel amazing." he sighed, his eyes fluttering close, "Mmh, 'm so happy you're finally mine.."

You tried struggling again. Steven opened his eyes, his other hand came up to your cheek to cup it.

"Already starting to love it, hm?" He chuckled sarcastically.

A moan escaped you as Steven hit a spot inside you, making you forget about fighting and your eyes almost rolled back, your hips bucking up.

"Now you like it, yeah?"

Another moan came out of you, Steven decided to fasten his thrusts.

Steven admired your pleasure contorted face, "Fuck, look at you... you love gettin' fucked by me, hm?"

He hit your spot again, earning a needy moan from you.

"Better get used to it, love. I'll be the only one fucking you from now on. You're mine."

Your moans grew desperate, your orgasm was fast approaching, and so was Steven's.

His thrusts became sloppy, his breathing heavy, and with a final thrust, your cunt exploded around his dick, covering him in your juices.

Steven cursed under his breath, loving the feeling of your perfect pussy squeezing his cock. He came just seconds after, filling you up with his hot cum.

He held himself inside you for a moment before pulling out, letting your combined fluids ooze out onto the bed.

Steven tucked his softened cock back in, then stood up and straightened his clothes.

He looked at your exhausted form, loving how fucked out because of him you looked. Steven liked it.

Steven cupped both your cheeks.

"You're coming with me now. If you fight me, I'll have no other choice but to sedate you."

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect, love. And I will take such good care of you."

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[therealraewest]

My therapist: okay but really Evil Jake Lockley isn't-