Latest Posts by tsalyani - Page 4

@positiveseed

the expedition

summary: you're about to make the discovery of a lifetime, so why is it you find yourself more focused on the man you've hired to keep you alive?

pairing: mercenary!steve rogers x archeologist!female reader

warnings: SMUT (18+, minors DNI), swearing, mention of: torture, blood, death, alcohol, violence, and knives.

length: 6.8k

a/n: written for my 3k celebration, the prompt is bolded. inspired by national treasure, the mummy (1999), and similar adventure films. the premise of this fic is based on fact/real legends, then the rest is the result of my imagination.

“Steve Rogers?”

The man hums in answer, his gaze fixated on the small television mounted above the bar.

Offering your hand, you introduce yourself. “We spoke on the phone.”

His head leisurely turns, and though they’re hidden behind dark sunglasses, you feel his eyes as they sweep over you before he accepts your outstretched hand.

“You want me to take you into the jungle.”

Glancing down at his hand as it engulfs yours, you can’t tell if he’s asking a question or stating a fact.

Either way, you respond with “Jake said you were the best man for the job.”

Sort of.

[2 DAYS PRIOR]

“Are you crazy?” Jake gawks, “I mean, yes, you’re crazy, but this is like a whole new level for you.”

"I'm not here for your opinion." You assert, resting your palms on his desk and leaning forward. "I just need someone to take us, someone who knows the area."

Running a hand through his spiked hair, Jake replies "Look, I know a few guys there but none are gonna buy what you're selling. Treasure hunters are a dime a dozen in South America."

"Explorers." You correct, heaving a sigh. "C'mon, there has to be one guy willing."

"I'm telling you there's not."

Slapping your hands on his desk, you straighten up. "Fine then, we'll go alone."

"What?" Jake splutters, "You wouldn't, you - fuck, you would." He groans.

Glaring at you for a moment, Jake shakes his head before rummaging through the papers strewn across his desk.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous Ecuador is? Do you know how many explorers die there each year?" He lectures.

"Why do you think I'm here?" You retort.

Muttering under his breath, Jake finds what he's looking for and meets your unyielding gaze. "I'm not saying he'll do it, but if you have a chance with anyone, it's Rogers."

You grab the small piece of paper Jake holds out to you, but his tight grip stops you from taking it.

"He won't be cheap." Jake warns.

"Of course."

A few seconds pass before he relinquishes the paper to you.

Smiling sweetly, you pocket it. "Thank you Jake."

Huffing, he gestures to the door. "Go."

Your smile grows at his exasperated demand - which you quickly obey.

Jake's voice calls out behind you just as you open his office door.

"Don't tell Rogers what you're looking for!"

[PRESENT]

Releasing your hand, Steve pushes up from the bar stool.

You have to tilt your head up and up as you watch him reach his full height.

"That was awfully nice of him." Steve states dryly, his attention returning to the football game occuring on the television. "You didn't say why you wanted to go into the jungle."

Right.

"Well, I'm an -"

A low whistle interrupts you, drawing both your and Steve’s attention.

“Maxwell.” You greet the approaching man, smiling through gritted teeth.

Ignoring you, Max looks Steve up and down before announcing “Perfect, you’re just the kind of brute we need.”

He’s right. Steve Rogers is built like a brick shithouse and most definitely suited for the task at hand.

Stopping beside you, Max extends his hand. “You must be Steve Rogers, I’m Max.”

Giving a small nod, Steve shakes his hand before aptly reminding you both “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

You keep your lie brief.

“As I was saying, we’re here to study specific sections of the Amazon rainforest for a thesis I’m working on.”

Throwing an arm around your shoulders, Max helpfully - and truthfully, adds “She’s an archaeologist.”

Steve studies you both, his face expressionless.

Your stomach drops.

He doesn’t believe us.

"You're treasure hunters." Steve declares, confirming your doubt.

"Actually, we're explorers."

Continuing on like you hadn't spoken, Steve says "And I'm guessing you're after the treasure of Llanganates."

"Good guess."

Sighing at Max's admission, you try again "We're -"

"Listen," Steve cuts off. "The jungle and mountain ranges here are no joke, and I'm not risking my life just so you two can come to the same conclusion as every other schmuck that's gone looking for that treasure, which is that it doesn't exist."

Your jaw drops at his words. "I'm no schmuck Mr. Rogers and just because you don't -"

"We have money." Max intervenes, shooting you a wary glance as you glare up at the large man.

Steve places his hands on his hips, his attention still on you while you bite your tongue.

You swear his lips twitch with a smirk.

Asshole.

"How much?" Steve eventually asks, turning his head to Max.

"How much do you want?" Max grins.

Silence falls as Steve mulls over the question.

"Five thousand a day."

Your jaw drops again. "No way!"

"Done."

Baffled, you gape at Max. "That's an insane amount."

Lifting his arm from your shoulders, he shrugs "This is an insane trip."

All you can do is stare as Max holds his hand out to Steve once more, stipulating "Five thousand a day for you to take us exactly where we want to go and to keep us from dying horrible deaths."

Nodding, Steve shakes his hand. "Deal."

You should feel ecstatic.

"So, when should we leave?" Max asks, "We're currently staying at the Tesoro Inn."

"First I need to know where we're going."

Both men turn to look at you.

Reaching into your jean pocket reluctantly, you pull out the map you outlined the beginning of your expedition on and hand it over to Steve.

Unfolding it, he studies the red line. "It's incomplete."

Of course, genius.

"You can see the rest when you get us that far." Arms crossed, you raise your eyebrows, all but daring him to argue back.

Steve regards you from behind his sunglasses before stating "We'll meet in front of the inn tomorrow morning, five thirty sharp." As an afterthought he adds "Make sure you pack light."

You can't prove it of course, but you just know he's directing that last comment at you.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you're dragged away by Max before you can utter a scathing response.

Steve's mouth twitches again.

[THE NEXT DAY]

You stand outside the inn, watching as the sun begins to peek above the horizon.

"So he's an ass and terrible at keeping time." You announce in a cheery tone.

Max groans, taking a sip of his coffee.

I suppose after last night he's probably had enough of me ranting about Steve Rogers.

"Darling, please, just ignore his personality and focus on his good looks."

You scoff loudly.

"Oh, don't even try." Max laughs, "I know how much of a sucker you are for big arms and hands."

Whatever.

"Good morning," A voice you unfortunately recognise calls out.

Looking over your shoulder at Steve's approaching figure, you use the shield of your sunglasses to properly assess him for the first time.

Steve is tall and built - that much you had observed yesterday afternoon.

His hair is dark blond and long, the ends of it curling against the collar of his shirt while some strands fall in front of his face, over his still present sunglasses. He has a beard and you'll forcibly admit that it's the best you've ever seen, full and well maintained.

You weren't typically one for beards but he made it work.

Similar to yesterday, Steve wears a long sleeved shirt that's rolled up to his elbows and khaki military style pants, held up by a brown belt. Over one shoulder he carries a backpack while a duffel bag hangs from his left hand.

"Mr. Rogers," You greet with a faux smile. "How nice of you to finally join us."

Steve grins, coming to a stop in front of you. "Retract those claws kitten, I had to secure our ride."

As if on cue, the loud rumble of an engine cuts through the peaceful morning air as an old pickup truck comes coasting around the corner, pulling up before you all.

"This must be the new Bentley model," Max quips good-naturedly.

The older man hanging out of the driver's window gives a rough laugh. "Ah, un comediante."

"Solo medio tiempo." Max retorts, earning another laugh.

Chucking his bags into the bed of the pickup, Steve grabs yours and Max's off the ground and adds them to the pile. Twisting back to you, Steve extends a hand for the satchel slung across your body.

You shake your head, grasping tightly at the brown leather strap.

He raises an eyebrow but makes no further comment, instead gesturing to the bed of the pickup. "Alright you two, hop in."

While you and Max climb into the back, Steve rounds the pickup and gets in the passenger side.

Max knocks twice against the back of the cab once you're both seated and the pickup rolls forward with a loud bang, rocking the two of you sideways.

Resting a heavy arm around your shoulders for stability as you each rock with the motion of the pickup on the dirt road, Max states "I love riding in the bed of trucks, reminds me of -"

“Arizona.” You finish with a soft smile.

“Yep,” Max pops the p. “Where we found nothing but rock.”

“And got burnt to a crisp for our efforts.” You recall, looking up at him as he laughs.

“Let’s pray this expedition proves more fruitful.”

“It will.” You answer without a second thought, clutching your satchel again. “This time is different.”

Arizona had been a spur of the moment idea, something to do for fun and experience - nothing more. There’d been no prior research, no maps, no coordinates.

Humming, Max leans forward and grabs the rolled up sleeping bag from his backpack, placing it between the cab and his head before closing his eyes. “Tell me about it again.”

Settling against his chest, you recite the story you know by heart.

“In 1532, Spanish conquistadores captured an Inca Emperor named Atahualpa who promised them a room full of gold and twice as much silver in exchange for his life. The conquistadores agreed and soon treasures from across the region were being brought to them. However, the conquistadores’ fear of a re-energised Inca military led them to kill the Emperor before the ransom was fulfilled."

“An Inca General named Rumiñahui had been en route with an enormous amount of treasure for the Emperor’s ransom when he learnt that Atahualpa had been killed. In response Rumiñahui ordered his men to take the ransom into the uninhabited land of Llanganates and hide it."

"Rumiñahui continued to haul even more treasure, such as gold, silver, jewels, and Inca artefacts to hide in Llanganates until he was captured by the Spanish. They tortured him for the treasure’s loaction, but he refused to tell them.”

“He’s a better man than me,” Max mumbles.

“In 1603 a Spaniard named Valverde married an Inca woman and he claimed that her family showed him the treasure. Before his death, he wrote out the treasure’s location and even drew a map to guide others to it. People have used and improved Valverde’s map for centuries trying to find the treasure and the last person to have claimed finding it was Barth Blake in 1886. In a letter he detailed his discovery of gold, silver, emeralds and other treasures and stated that he, nor a thousand men could remove all that he had found.”

“So in over a century no-one has claimed to have found even a piece of the treasure?” Max questions, opening his eyes and looking down at you.

Lifting your head from his chest, you shake it. "A man named Mark Honigsbaum tried to find the treasure and wrote a book about it in 2004. He concluded that either the Incans retrieved the treasure centuries ago or it’s been lost forever in the mountains.”

“You believe it’s still in the mountains, right?”

“Yes, in its original hiding spot, just not where it’s marked on Valverde’s map.”

Max shakes his head, “Why can’t they just say ‘go to this place, here’s the treasure, spend it wisely’?”

You chuckle, but both you and Max know you don’t - can’t agree with his sentiment.

Finding the location of this treasure has been your sole purpose for years. You’ve lived and breathed this lost piece of history for so long that you almost felt a part of it.

To be able to find something that you couldn’t simply be given a map to was everything to you. You’ve earned the coordinates sitting in your satchel through your own hard work and time - so much time. 

Succeeding at this would be your life’s greatest achievement.

As well as your greatest honour. The artefacts, like tiles from the Temple of the Sun, stowed away with that gold and silver were invaluable pieces of lost Inca culture that deserved to be returned to the people and shared with the world.

“How much is it all worth?” Max asks with a whimsical smile.

Sighing, you give him the answer he already knows, but just likes hearing. “Thirty-seven billion dollars, at least. However its historical significance is priceless."

Max squeezes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you even further into his side. "Well seeing how you're in it for the history, I guess you'll have no qualms with me taking ninety percent."

“Ninety?” You repeat, shocked. “That’s generous of you, I expected you to take at least ninety-nine percent.”

Pressing his mouth to the top of your head with a loud smack, Max states “You underestimate my love for you.”

[SOME HOURS LATER]

“Looks like we’ve reached the end of the road.” Max announces once the pickup has slowed to a stop.

You wouldn’t exactly call what you’ve been driving on for the past few hours ‘road’.

A door creaks open before being slammed shut.

“Alright kids,” Steve appears to your right, reaching for the bags. “This is our stop.”

Your legs wobble when you stand and your ass is completely numb from sitting so long.

Gingerly, you lower yourself out of the back of the pickup and walk over to Steve, Max ambling behind you.

Collecting your backpack off the ground, you straighten up as the pickup rolls forward with its signature loud bang and makes a u-turn.

“Buena suerte!” The driver calls out as he passes, raising a hand.

“Gracias!” You and Max return, waving back.

Sliding your sunglasses up onto your head, you turn around to face the famed Amazon rainforest and take a deep breath.

This is it.

“Please, after you.” Max smiles at Steve, sweeping his arm out towards the mass of green.

Dutifully, Steve pulls out a machete from the holder around his thigh and steps forward into the awaiting wilderness.

[SOME HOURS LATER]

The first few hours of the trek are completed in silence.

You listen to the soundtrack of the Amazon, admiring the nature around you while getting tripped up by it more often than not.

It’s thick - and humbling.

There are trees that stretch up so high they must almost touch the sky, and their trunks are so wide that you can see nothing else when standing in front of them.

Unfortunately, none of it can distract you from the heat.

The humidity is like nothing you’ve ever experienced and the sun isn't even at its highest point yet - not that you can see it.

You removed your long sleeved shirt a while ago, stuffing it into your backpack with your sunglasses. This left you in a dark green tank top and brown hiking pants.

"We'll take a break here." Steve declares, breaking the long silence.

Pushing your backpack off your shoulders, you take a seat on it and pull out your water bottle, taking a greedy gulp.

"I miss the truck." Max sighs forlornly, collapsing beside you.

His skin is shiny with sweat, just like yours.

You pat his back sympathetically.

“I thought you were looking for the treasure of Llanganates.” Steve says suddenly, sitting on a fallen tree across from the two of you.

You think it’s a question, but his tone makes it sound like a statement.

He likes doing that.

“We are.” You retort.

“Your map doesn’t follow Valverde’s.”

Surprised, your eyebrows rise. “You’re familiar with Valverde’s map?”

"Do you really think you two are the first I've taken on this wild goose chase?"

Raising your chin defiantly, you assert "We'll be the first to find it."

Steve smiles at your confidence. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see kitten, but I’ll keep my bet on you going home empty-handed.”

“Oh, I like a good bet, what are we waging?” Max pipes in.

You roll your eyes while Steve’s sunglasses continue to hide his.

After a moment your guide decides “If we find the treasure, my services will be rendered free.”

Max scoffs a laugh “How kind, and what percentage of the treasure will you be asking for?”

Steve smirks, “Nothing absurd, just one percent.”

Which would only work out to about three hundred and seventy million dollars.

Yeah, nothing absurd.

To Max, it’s a bargain.

“I knew I liked you for a reason." He grins, picking himself up and walking over to Steve to shake on their bet.

“When we find the treasure we will be donating it.” You deadpan.

“Ignore her.” Resting his hands on his hips, Max says “She doesn’t understand greed like the rest of us simpletons.”

Steve hums in agreement, “You’ve got finder’s fee written all over you kitten.”

“Would you not call me that?” You glare.

His mouth twitches.

“I thought it was fitting.” Max mumbles from where he stands.

“And yes Mr. Rogers, we will be donating the treasure and accepting whatever finder’s fee we’re offered.”

Standing up, you put your backpack on again, deciding for the group that the rest period is over.

As you stride away, you hear Max mutter to Steve “Don’t worry, we can fill our bags with goodies before the museum stiffs show up.”

[THAT NIGHT]

You sit in front of the small campfire that Steve had made for light rather than for warmth.

Heat isn't something you're in short supply of.

Max is lying in his sleeping bag on the ground beside you while Steve sits across from you both, on the other side of the fire.

He’s finally removed his sunglasses, but the night hides Steve’s eyes just as well as his shades. Instead of colour, all you see in his eyes is the reflection of the flickering flames between you.

"I was thinking -"

"Uh-oh."

"Shut up." Max sighs, lifting his hand to swat your right arm. "I was thinking about what you said about that Blake guy, the one who wrote the letter saying he found the treasure."

"Hmm?" You prompt.

“Well, it sounded like he really found it, so why didn’t he take it?”

“Blake took what he could carry, planning on -”

“Returning with more men and supplies to retrieve the rest, but on his way to New York from Ecuador he disappeared overboard. Most believe he was deliberately pushed to keep the treasure safe.”

Your head snaps towards Steve and he smirks at your reaction.

“Once again, not my first wild goose chase kitten.”

You’re about to tell him once again not to call you that, but Max speaks first, clearly trying to avoid another back and forth.

“What’s your deal anyway? How’d you end up in this hot ass country?”

Steve’s smirk fades as he shrugs, his expression hardening.

You side-eye Max.

Good one idiot.

“There’s not much to it.” Steve states. “I used to be in the military, now I’m not. Now I choose what jobs I do, which is usually anything that pays well.”

The fire crackles.

“What about you two?” Steve retorts. “Rich kids with nothing better to do? I can’t tell if you’re related or dating -”

“Ew.” You groan, pulling a face.

“We are not related, nor are we dating.” Max informs.

“And he’s the rich kid.” You add, gesturing down at Max.

“Yep, she just mooches off of me and I mooch off my dad.”

That earns a laugh from Steve.

“His dad is the director of one of the most respected museums in the world.” You elaborate. “I interned there while completing my degree, which is how we met.”

It’s hard to believe that was almost three years ago. When you first met Max you certainly had no idea how important he’d become in your life.

You’ll never forget the first thing he ever said to you.

“So, do you consciously dress yourself like Rachel Weisz in ‘The Mummy’ or is that just an odd coincidence?”

[THE NEXT DAY]

“I take back my complaints about the jungle.” Max mutters, observing the swamp.

Midday has just passed and so has the first and shortest section of your expedition - the rainforest.

Now the wetland awaits you all. You estimate that it’ll take roughly three days to get through.

Three days of mud, stench, and the feeling of being constantly wet.

“Staring at it isn’t gonna get us through it any faster.” Steve asserts, taking the first step into the green water.

Everyone has tucked the ends of their pants into their thick socks to try and limit as much contact with the water as possible.

You follow after Steve, Max trailing behind you with a reluctant sigh.

It’s slow-going, trying to avoid branches and rocks hidden beneath the surface that Steve finds with the long stick in his hand. The same stick he uses to avoid deceivingly deep puddles.

However, you soon miss the relative easiness of trekking through the water once you’ve reached the mud.

Loud suction sounds are all that can be heard as the three of you trudge through the mud that swallows your feet and then some with every step, a dark line on your pants indicating the highest it’s reached - halfway up your calves.

It takes all of your strength to free yourself, just so you can do it all over again.

“My legs are going to be ripped after this.” Max pants.

You can only huff a breath in response, too focused on pulling your feet from the mud. The suction is so strong you’re worried you might lose a boot - or two.

It also doesn’t help that your backpack seems like it’s full of bricks.

“Oh thank god, solid ground.” Max announces gratefully.

You look up - not to see if he’s telling the truth, but to see why he sounds so far away.

Wasn’t he just beside me?

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself.

Both men have made better progress than you. Max had spotted the solid ground because Steve now stands on it.

Staring back down at your engulfed feet, you grit your teeth and use every bit of strength you have left to try and quicken your pace. Every hour of daylight was precious and there wasn’t much left of today’s.

Maybe it’s their longer legs or strength - Max isn’t that much stronger than me, or maybe their backpacks simply didn’t weigh a million tonnes -

God my legs are burning.

Then suddenly, it’s like a weight is lifted.

Because it is.

Your backpack is pulled from your shoulders before Steve places it over his own, his bags deserted on the hard ground ahead.

“Oh.” You squeak, startled by his presence. “Uh, thank you - wait, what - put me down!” You demand as you’re lifted from the mud with an echoing pop.

Steve’s hands grasp your hips and he pulls you out with what seems to be little effort, his arms bulging with the action. Then you’re upside down, thrown over one of his broad shoulders.

“Are you a caveman? You can’t just manhandle me!” You protest, affronted.

You brace your hands on his lower back, trying to hold yourself up so your face doesn’t bump into his back.

Is he just all muscle?

He’s rock solid underneath your hands.

Steve chuckles, “I just did kitten.”

“Would you -”

“Time is valuable out here, we can’t wait around for you to finish playing in the mud.”

Glaring at the mud beneath you, you insist “Put me down or I’ll fire you.”

It’s a very weak threat since you and Max kind of need him, but it’s all you’ve got.

Also… maybe you kind of don’t want him to put you down. 

Maybe.

Another chuckle. “You didn’t hire me, nor are you the one paying me.”

“You know what -”

“Quit whining!” Max calls out, sounding close. “I told him to go get you, I want out of here.”

“See? I’m just doing what the boss asked.”

“How noble of you Mr. Rogers.” You mumble.

“Well it’s a nice change of scenery kitten.”

It takes a moment for you to understand his meaning, but it’s obvious when you do, your sharp inhale of air audible as you open your mouth to tell him to go -

You squeak again as you’re abruptly dropped onto your feet.

“And stop with the Mr. Rogers talk.” Steve says, shrugging off your backpack and hooking it over your left shoulder before you can snatch it from him. Dropping his head so that he’s looking into your eyes - his are still hidden behind those damn sunglasses, Steve purrs “But if you insist on being so formal, sir will do just fine.”

Your mouth falls open and Steve moves out of the way with a chuckle when you attempt to swing your backpack at him.

The absolute -

Max appears beside you and grabs your arm lightly, urging you forward as Steve continues trekking ahead.

“Please remember we need him alive.” Max implores.

[THAT NIGHT]

“Now will you admit to me that he’s hot?”

“Shut up.” You snap at Max, shooting him a glare.

“Just look at his -”

Covering his mouth with your hand, you raise your eyebrows in warning.

You’re sitting on a log in front of the campfire not admiring Steve in distance, illuminated by the torch on the ground beside him, as he changes shirts for the night and -

Max snorts against your hand, making you drop it as your gaze quickly shifts to the fire while Steve changes into a different pair of pants.

Can’t he do that somewhere more private?

“Oh darling, you’d love his thighs, have a look -”

“Would you shut up?” You hiss.

“Too bad it’s dark,” Max carries on. “I can’t really see what his underwear is hiding - ow!”

Whack. “Shut.” Whack. “Up.” Whack.

“Alright, alright.” He surrenders, rubbing his arm. “Jesus, you’re in one of your violent moods today.” 

Then, as if he can’t resist - because he can’t, Max smirks “Unlike Harry, I bet he’d actually know how to -”

“Oh my god -”

“Who’s Harry?”

You jump at the sound of Steve’s voice and your hand freezes midair, interrupted on its way to hit Max again.

“No one.”

“Her ex.”

I will murder you before sunrise - that’s what the look you direct at Max promises.

Steve hums, taking a seat on the other side of the fire. “And what didn’t he know how to do?”

His smirk tells you he’s already assumed.

I want to die.

No.

I want them to die.

“Cook.” You declare, glaring at him. “He didn’t know how to cook.”

“Was terrible at it,” Max reinforces with a sad tone.

You have to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“That’s a shame.” Steve states in his deep voice, a hint of laughter detectable in it. “Every man should know how to cook.”

“I wouldn’t call him much of a man.” Max inputs.

Fucking hell.

The comment is probably a little harsh, but Max is your best friend.

Harry had been your first and last attempt at a relationship. He’d been nice enough but… well, that was it really. Just nice, tolerable… passionless. You’d stick to the fictional men in your romance novels.

“Can you cook Steve?” Max asks, as casual as ever.

You turn to him with wide eyes.

“I’m a great cook.” You can clearly hear the laughter in Steve’s voice now.

“Of course you’d think that.” You jab, looking from Max to him.

Steve meets your irritated gaze over the fire with a smirk. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

“Well,” You shrug, biting back “Doesn’t mean they walked away satisfied.”

“I wouldn’t say they walked.”

Max chortles next to you, choking on his own spit while heat floods your face and neck.

“Okay.” Standing abruptly, you state “I’m going to bed.”

Their laughter follows you all the way to your sleeping bag.

[TWO DAYS LATER]

“I smell so bad.”

“I’m glad you said it.”

“Oh, because you smell so much better.” You mock, eyeing Max.

The wetland has been punishing. Every inch of your body ached. You were covered in mud, bug bites, and drenched in your own sweat. It’s unpleasant, to say the least.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you decide to tell Max some historical fun facts. 

Well, they’re fun to you.

“You know, Valverde drew the map to the treasure before his death because he wanted to give it as a gift to the King of Spain.” You begin, “The King sent out an expedition to find the treasure but -”

“They were unsuccessful - obviously, and the friar that was accompanying them died in a swamp.” Steve gazes around, “This very one most likely.”

You purse your lips at his interruption, but can’t find it within yourself to be annoyed.

“Also,” You try again, addressing Max. “The Spanish conquistadors would constantly dig up large quantities of platinum while searching for gold and while we know platinum to be more valuable than gold -”

“They dismissed it as junk because being so rare, they didn’t know what it was. All they knew was that it wasn’t gold, so they would dump it as scrap.” Steve concludes, his shade covered eyes looking over at you.

“They threw away one of the rarest and most precious metals on Earth because their lust for gold, something that only had value because they gave it value, blinded them to the true, unique treasure in front of them.”

It feels like the air has been knocked out of your lungs.

Forcing a huff, you feebly respond “Would you stop that?”

“Stop what?” Steve smirks.

That damn, all-knowing smirk.

“Knowing… things.”

Wow, good one. You really got him.

Steve’s smirk widens into a grin. “Why kitten? You like it when I talk smart?”

Yes, it makes me want to climb you like a tree.

“No, I just prefer not being interrupted.”

“Someone please correct me if I’m wrong.” Max breaks in, “But is this hellhole about to end?”

You gaze ahead and see that Max hasn’t gone mad. The wetland is indeed about to end.

“We’ll set up camp on the outskirts of the swamp.” Steve directs, glancing at his watch. “Tomorrow we’ll head into the moorland, there's a lake on our path and we should reach it by afternoon.”

[THE NEXT AFTERNOON]

“It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Max sighs lovingly, admiring the lake. “I dibs using it first.”

You shrug, “Whatever.”

After three days covered in filth, what harm could waiting an hour or so longer do?

Besides, you wanted to take your sweet, sweet time.

Leaving Max at the lake, you and Steve trek into the forestry further up from the lake. It’s a stark contrast to the thickness of the Amazon rainforest, the trees still tall but slim and spaced out almost evenly.

Steve selects a spot far enough away from the lake to give anyone using it privacy and starts setting up camp.

Max wanders up from the lake a little while later, after everything has been set up and a small fire is burning steadily.

You tell Steve he can go next and he’s quick to rise.

It feels like you wait an eternity, but you know it’s just your eagerness to be clean that drags the time out.

The moment you spot Steve approaching through the trees you’re on your feet, heading for the lake.

At the lakeside you remove your clothes, leaving your bra and underwear on. You soak your clothes first, scrubbing them clean before laying them out over the rocks around the lake to soak up the afternoon sun.

Finally, you delve into the lake's cool waters.

You don’t rush, taking time to rub every part of yourself spotless. Afterwards you lie on your back and float around the lake.

When your face starts to feel too hot from the sun, you submerge underneath the water and hold your breath for as long as you can before coming back up.

Breaking the surface of the water, you keep your eyes shut while you run a hand over your face, removing the excess water.

When you open them again, you flinch.

“Do you mind?” You all but shriek at Steve who’s sitting on a large boulder at the lakeside, watching you.

He smirks, “Not at all.”

Glaring at him, you hiss “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

One of these days I’m going to kill him.

Swimming up to the edge of the lake, you keep everything below your neck underwater.

“Well pass me my towel would you?” You snap.

Steve raises an eyebrow and it’s only then that you realise he’s not wearing his sunglasses.

Blue.

His eyes are blue.

You’re too far away to see any great detail though.

Steve raises his other eyebrow, bringing you back to reality and making your teeth grind.

“Please.”

Leisurely, Steve reaches for your towel behind him on the boulder and holds it out to you, as far as his arm will extend.

“Are you serious?” You ask, exasperated.

He shrugs, “I’m afraid it’s the best I can do kitten.”

Groaning, you bite out “Fine, close your eyes.”

A moment passes before he eventually does as you demanded, his eyes shutting.

“No peeking.” You enforce, squinting at him.

When you’re certain he can’t see anything, you rise out of the water and quickly approach him.

The second your hand grips the towel Steve tugs on it, sending you toppling onto him.

You fall face first into his solid chest while your hands scramble for purchase to push yourself back.

“What are you -”

The words die in your throat when you feel his warm, rough hands grasp your waist and spin you around before bringing you back down to sit on his lap.

“Let me help you.” Steve husks into your ear, his beard pleasantly scratching at your skin. 

His right hand presses against your bare stomach, holding you in place while his other hand picks up your towel again, swiping it over your left arm.

You open your mouth to object but then his right hand glides up your wet skin to lightly wrap around your neck, tilting your head backwards so he can move the towel over your chest.

Any fight you might have had leaves your body in a giant whoosh, his touch turning you to jelly.

“There you go,” Steve coo’s. “It’s not healthy to always be so tense kitten.”

Fuck you.

That’s what you want to tell him, but instead you whimper as he suddenly drags the towel down and over your underwear.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Since you pleasured yourself? Yes. Since you had a man touch you? Even more of a yes.

But he hadn’t made you feel anything close to this.

“That’s okay.” Steve whispers, as if you had answered. “I’ll take care of you, it’s what I’m getting paid for.”

Abandoning the towel, his fingers dip behind the band of your underwear and you’re almost panting in excitement.

He’s so… big around you, caging you in and overriding your senses.

“Poor kitten,” Steve teases, dragging two of his fingers along your slick folds. “Just dripping for me, huh?”

You want to punch him so badly you -

“Oh.” You can’t help but moan as his thumb presses on your clit, lightly circling it.

Instinctively, your thighs squeeze together and both of your hands wrap around his wrist to stop the action.

You’re embarrassed by how sensitive you are.

It has been a while.

Steve hushes you, “I know, I know.” Using his left hand to pry your thighs apart, he begins circling your clit again. “Just relax, I got you.”

His words seem to have a pull over you, as your body instantly relaxes in his hold.

With your body pliant, Steve's fingers dip down further and slowly push into you, first one, then two.

Your hips lift to meet his hand.

“Good girl, fuck yourself on my fingers.” The vulgar sentence sets your face on fire while also making you clench around his digits with a gasp.

How the hell does he know just what to say? 

It’s like he’s read one of your books.

Steve’s fingers start to push into you faster and a bit rougher as his thumb continues circling your clit.

Your stomach tenses, the coil within you already about to snap and god you want it, you want it so bad, so, so bad -

“Please.” You mumble, not recognising your own voice. It’s so airy and desperate. “Please let me come.”

Steve releases a guttural groan beside your ear, the sound rumbling against your back while his arousal pokes at your ass.

His thumb quickens on your clit as his fingers keep pumping into you, nudging just a bit more before -

You moan loudly when he hits the sweet spot inside you.

Steve’s warm breath tickles your cheek. “Come for me baby, make a mess on my fingers.”

Crying out, you whine Steve's name as your orgasm collides with you. It's like the blood in your veins is replaced with fire, your body intoxicatingly hot as you jerk in Steve's hold, riding out your high on his still moving fingers.

Steve’s murmuring in your ear, but it’s all white noise as you come back to yourself.

“Fuck.” You whisper when you feel a little less lightheaded.

Removing his hand from beneath your underwear, Steve raises his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean. You watch him, mouth slightly ajar.

“How was that kitten? Was it good?” Steve asks once he’s finished, his blue eyes shining down at you.

They’re a light blue - baby blue. At first you think they’re pure blue, but then you see just a flicker of green within them. Somehow it makes them prettier.

It’s a shame he’s always hiding them away.

“Very.” You breathe out honestly, your mind still muddled.

Steve grins and lowers to brush his mouth over your cheek, the feeling of his beard making you shiver. “The chef appreciates your compliment.” He teases.

Drawing the connection back to that night days before brings you out of your orgasm-induced stupor and kicks your brain into gear.

What the hell did I just do?

Pulling yourself from Steve, you stand - your thighs still shaking a little, and snatch your towel off the ground. Wrapping it around yourself, you collect your clothes from a nearby rock.

When you turn back around you find Steve still sitting in the exact same spot, contently watching you with a lazy smirk, like nothing’s out of the ordinary - like there isn’t a large tent in his pants.

Your core throbs at the sight and you quickly look away.

Marching past him, you don’t respond when Steve calls out “I’ll be up soon kitten, I just gotta wash some of my clothes.”

The smile in his tone is obvious.

Heading for camp, you try to process what just happened.

Did I really just let Steve finger me?

“Oh no, Max.” You groan, dreading his reaction.

Just act natural, he won’t know if -

“Hello there, you took your - wait.” His eyes narrow.

To avoid looking at him you begin drying yourself and re-dressing.

“What?” You ask, trying to sound casual.

Max strides over to you and grabs your chin, forcing you to face him.

“Oh my god.”

How the hell -

“Did you fuck Steve?” Max whisper-shouts, his brown eyes wide with excitement.

“No!” You respond in the same tone.

“Then what -”

“Look, he just… gave me a helping hand, okay?”

There was no point in trying not to tell him. He'd never drop the subject, or move on.

“Did he ask for a helping hand back?”

He’s so nosy about these things.

“No.”

Max grins, “I knew he’d be good to you.”

Squinting at him, you retort “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Waving you off, he sits back down by the fire. “Was he good at it?”

Checking behind you to make sure Steve hadn’t snuck up, you quickly answer “He was great at it, now can we please forget this ever happened?”

Max lets out a chuckle while you finish zipping up your pants. “Good luck with that darling, you can’t exactly avoid him out here.”

Fuck, he’s right.

What were you thinking?

You were supposed to be out here finding lost treasure - the find of the century, not getting some from your guide who you literally cannot escape from until this is over.

A guide who is going to be unbearable after this, as if he wasn't already.

Dropping your head into your hands, you sigh.

It's fine, everything is going to be just fine.

INSTAGRAM

Lazy Mornings

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Bucky loves waking you up in the morning. Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (female receiving), Bucky is a giver. 18+ Please!!! This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own

I blame you for this @angrythingstarlight​. You know what you did and I love you for it. Gif by @violadvis​. Enjoy, lovelies!

Waking up beside Bucky was one of the best feelings in the world. It took time for him to get comfortable sleeping with someone else in his bed, but it wasn’t because he didn’t trust you. He didn’t trust himself with the nightmares. Hurting you was the last thing he wanted to do. You worked through it with him and now you couldn’t remember what it felt like not sleeping in his arms. You always felt safe and warm in his embrace. 

Continuar a ler

𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮

Summary: Filming different home ✨videos✨ with different characters.

Pairings: Andy Barber x fem!Reader, Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader, Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Warnings: All smut – filming, blow job, swallowing, thigh riding, cumshot, some spanking (just twice I guess), anal plug use, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, 18+

Word count: ~1,500

A/n: Shout out to the lovely anon who gave me ideas for Steve’s part 🥰

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Andy Barber

“How do I look?” You tease him, winking right at the phone in his hand, recording you kneeling in front of him.

“Fucking gorgeous.” His free hand moves to rest on your cheek, his thumb ghosting over your lips until you part them enough to take it into your mouth.

Giving him a show already, you suck on his finger, swirling your tongue around, and let him push it further until you gag lightly.

“Better be getting my good angles,” you joke, catching your breath when he pulls his hand away.

“You don’t have bad angles, sweetheart.”

With a lighthearted roll of your eyes, you set your hands on his hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of his briefs. They still there, your lips following to press kisses against his lower abdomen, then trailing lower. His cock twitches at the attention, earning a quiet groan from him and a giggle from you. Another teasing look to the camera and you’re biting your lip, moving back enough to finally pull the fabric down just to let his cock spring free.

You waste no time taking him into your hand, lazily stroking him a few times before leaning in to run your tongue along his length slowly, all while keeping your eyes on him above you.

“Christ, honey,” he groans, watching you through the small screen to make sure he’s capturing it. “Keep going.”

His breath hitches when your lips wrap around the head of his cock, your tongue paying special attention to the sensitive spot on the underside.

Feeling his free hand once again, this time on the back of your neck, you take the hint and begin taking more of him into your mouth. Your hand covers what you can’t handle, moving in time with your mouth.

You moan around him, the vibrations causing his breathing to quicken and an involuntary thrust of his hips. That makes you gag, swiftly pulling your head back but still working him with your hand.

“Do you want me to swallow?” Your question comes out breathless.

It takes him a moment to register what you said, his own mind too hazy to answer coherently. “I– Uh,” he pants, looking down at you. “You don’t have to.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes,” he blurts out, just needing you to keep going.

You double your efforts, pumping your fist quicker until you know he’s on the edge. Opening your mouth, you beg for it. “Give it to me. Please, cum in my mouth.”

It does it for him. A guttural moan rips from his throat, his hips stuttering as his release spills into your mouth.

He watches you as he catches his breath, swallowing everything he gave you, and he curses under his breath.

Sitting back, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, looking up at him once more. “Was that good or do we need to film a take two?”

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Steve Rogers

“There’s my pretty girl,” he coos, panning the camera up toward your face. Your hands quickly move to cover it though, your cheeks immediately heating up at the realization of what you’re doing. “Hey, don’t be shy. This was your idea,” he teases. “Look at the camera.”

Slowly lowering your hands, you place them back on his shoulders for support, picking up the pace of your hips again to grind your cunt against his thigh.

Doing your best to offer some eye contact to the camera for him, you can’t help but laugh and turn your face away. Your laugh suddenly turns into a whine though when he flexes his thigh, adding to the pressure against your aching clit.

“Good girl,” he praises when you don’t stop. “Keep going. Look so pretty like this, darling.”

Angling the camera back down to where your core meets his leg, he chuckles, the movement once again making you whimper. “You’re making such a mess,” he points out, referring to the wet spot on his pants. “I’ll have to make you watch this later so you can see it too.”

“Steve,” you whine, partly from dreading the humiliation of that, but also from feeling yourself quickly approaching the edge. “Can I–” You don’t get the question out before letting out a desperate moan.

“You can do better than that.” His tone is teasing as he puts the camera back on your face. “Ask nicely.”

Too focused on chasing your high, you don’t have the chance to be timid. “Please, can I cum?” You’re looking right into the camera this time. “Please, Steve.”

“Let go for me, sweetheart.”

Throwing your head back, your hips jerk against his leg, pleasure washing over you in waves. He stops filming when you fall forward, body slumping against his. He needs both hands free to hold you, rubbing your back gently as you steady your breathing.

“That was really good,” you breathe out, laughing a little.

“That’ll definitely come in handy,” he chuckles. “Good idea, sweetheart.”

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Ransom Drysdale

“Fuck,” he breathes out, dropping his face to your neck.

He gives you a minute to come down from your second orgasm tonight before pushing himself off of you and leaning over to grab the phone from where it’s been propped up and filming from the nightstand thus far.

His fingers tapping against your side get your attention, your eyes fluttering open to be met with him holding the phone now, making you the main focus.

“Turn over, babe. Let’s see that pretty ass now.”

Groaning, you turn over onto shaky hands and knees, giving him the perfect view of your ass and the pink heart-shaped jewel on the end of the anal plug he got you.

“Hell yeah,” he marvels, pushing on it, earning a whimper from you. It’s enough to make your arms give out, your face resting against the sheets now. “Good to keep going, babygirl?”

“Yes, please.”

You gasp feeling his cock push back into you. He easily falls back into his rhythm from before, hips slapping against your ass with each thrust.

“You look so fucking good from this angle,” he grunts, punctuating his praise with a slap of his hand against your ass.

“Shit, Ran,” you choke out, gripping fistfuls of the sheets in your hands. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you feel like you’re right on the edge again.

“What, gonna cum again already?”

“Please,” you whine. “Want you to cum with me.”

He curses under his breath, and his thrusts become harder, determined to make you fall apart again.

“Oh, God–” The trembling of your legs tells him you’re right there.

“Come on,” he pants, slapping your ass one more time. “Give it to me.”

With a scream of his name, you’re hurdling over the edge for the third time, cunt spasming around his cock, and it’s enough to bring him with you. Quickly pulling out, he jerks his cock until his cum is painting your ass, giving him the perfect frame to end the video with.

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Ari Levinson

“God, look at you go,” he groans, teasing as he watches you through the screen of his phone, bouncing on his dick.

“Stop,” you whine, but can’t help but laugh. “You’re making me nervous.”

“How am I making you nervous, sweetheart?”

“Do I look okay?”

“You look fucking amazing,” he breathes out. “And the best part is this view is all for me. Only for me.”

Pressing your hands on his chest for leverage, you grind your hips deeper, both of you letting out moans from the new angle.

“Want you to make yourself cum, pretty girl.” His free hand slips down from your hip, his thumb pressing against your clit. Rolling your head back, you cry out his name. “Come on.”

“I’m gonna–” Your own silent moan cuts you off, your vision going dark as you hit your peak.

When your legs begin to quiver, he takes over, thrusting his hips up, chasing his own climax. “Right there with you, baby. Fuck–”

His hips still and his thighs tense as his release spills inside you. Your heavy breaths are the only sound in the room until he asks if you’re ok.

“My legs hurt,” you laugh, dropping your face as you become aware of the camera on you again.

“Here, lift up,” he begins, panning the camera down to where your bodies are still connected. “Up…”

Listening, you slowly push off of him, letting his cock slip out of you, and you whimper. It’s followed by his groan though as he watches his cum drip out of you. “That’s it,” he smirks. He ends the video there, tossing the phone across the bed. “Come here.”

Gently falling forward, you lay on top of him, his arms coming up to wrap around you.

“I can’t believe we did that.”

“We can delete it right away if you–”

“No,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his neck. “It’s okay. I kinda want to see it.”

♡ ⊹ ° .　˚ 　 𖧷 · 　° .　 ♡ ⊹

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @starlightcrystalline @stargazingfangirl18 @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @andy--barber @rogersdrysdalebarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean

𝖊𝖚𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙 | priest!Steve Rogers x reader

summary: anybody can get a boy into bed, it’s not very hard if you have low standards (which you, historically, have), but it takes a special kind of woman to seduce a man of the cloth.  the question is, while you’re tempting him away from a life of holiness, can he convince you to change your ways as well?  

word count: 8.7k

warnings: smut!! (including rough sex, oral sex m & f receiving, fingering, and a bit of dubcon at some points), an overwhelming amount of religious references, sex in religious places, use of a confession booth as a glory hole (i’m so sorry), very slight breeding kink, a non-sexual slap, semi-public sex, implied age gap, dommy reader but steve has some dom moments too, and she calls him ‘Father’ because that’s his title so… just be prepared for that

Continuar a ler

I wouldn't mind help conditioning his beard

Conditioner

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count: ~500

Warnings: Smut! Explicit sexual content, oral- woman receiving, dirty talk, explicit language (must be 18+)

Summary: You help your boyfriend with beard care and it leads to much more!

Continuar a ler

life’s too short to be embarrassed you read x reader fan fiction. live ur life and date as many imaginary boys as u want

Wise words from snek

this is your daily reminder that yes- your comfort character would absolutely want to rearrange your guts and cuddle you afterwards.

The Oscars and Hollywood in general is just becoming a bigger joke. They will keep lose revelancy while they keep showing their biased views, a white man's career will not be over when he's accused of sexual assault but a black man slaps someone and its the end of his reputation

so the academy is reviewing whether or not to remove Will Smith’s award and here are some interesting tweets about that :)

She works hard to pay her bills

She works hard for her money

Yennskier’s 100% incorrect correct quote

Sweet Dreams

Jake Jensen X Reader

Summary: Your sleeping body gives away your waking thoughts.

Warnings: 18+, language, sexual content (somnophilia, thigh riding, unprotected vaginal sex).

Credits: dividers by @firefly-graphics and thanks go to my ever lovely beta reader @christywantspizza ❤️❤️❤️

AN: My first Jake fic so please be gentle!

He was being tortured, that was the only explanation. The only reason he would be tested like this, so cruelly, made to hold back from his desires. Teased. Taunted. Tried.That had to be the explanation. 

There could be no other reason why he was lying still, tired and desperate...hard, while you clung to him. He would like to say while you slept but this was something between sleep and full consciousness. Your eyes were certainly closed, but your body seemed to be awake, moving of its own accord, rolling against Jake's own like the steady lap of the waves on the other side of the canvas tent. 

Jake starred up into the darkness and rubbed a hand over his face, taking his glasses off so he could more effectively hide his face. The blush growing on his cheeks was red hot, making him sweat in the tropical heat. 

What could have changed. Why were you doing this now? This wasn't the first time the two of you had shared the tent, or a bed for that matter. You'd spent countless nights holed up together setting up comms, tapping into whatever security systems you had to breach and monitoring targets. 

When it was cold, Jake had held you against his broad chest, tucked you into the warmth of his arms and you'd shivered together until you both fell into a dreamless, solid sleep. 

In Mexico you'd posed as a couple to get closer to your mark, holding hands and sharing a room, but that was it. At night, you'd stayed to your side of the expansive honeymoon suite bed. 

Tonight you had pitched the tent together, rolled out your sleeping bags while the sun was setting and talked until the stars twinkled above you. There had been no indication that you expected or wanted anything else... Your hips rolled again, body drawn to him and, like a magnet, he followed, pressing his leg up against you and basking in the whimper he received in return. 

You were friends. You had let him finish your food when he was still hungry. He had traded you a shirt when yours got wet with salt water. Just friends, you would never hurt him or trick him. 

So why were you doing this if it wasn't to torture him? Your grip on him tightened, the leg you'd slung over his twitched, and then you started again, harder, faster. Grinding and rocking against his thigh, your small hands clutching his damp t-shirt. Breathy pants and huffs of pleasure and frustration blew across the sensitive skin of his neck, making the hairs on his nape stand on end. 

He should wake you up, you'd be embarrassed in the morning, he should definitely wake you. But he couldn't deny he was enjoying each racked sob you gave him, each little moan and pant like the singing of angels. Each roll of your hips giving permission for his own arousal to grow. 

With his left hand on the small of your back, trapped by the weight of your head and shoulders, Jake lifted his right hand to your side. 

Beneath his large palm you were warm too, still sun-kissed from your long day. At first you squirmed against his touch, too light and tickling, making the whole situation worse. Flattening his hand made you stop, although now he could feel the dip of your hip, the swell of your ass. Experimentally he pressed his hand down to feel the soft curves of your body. 

You responded instantly, your body stilling but holding him ever tighter. 

Your moan took shape around his name, "Jake." 

Shocked, Jake pressed his left hand deeper into the small of your back, forcing you closer, your legs tighter around him. You ground yourself against him, deep and slow, his hands helpless, squeezing and rubbing, unable to let you go. 

"Jake, oh- Jake, Jay, Jayyy -" your moans becoming more desperate, his leg wet from your arousal. 

He couldn't take it anymore. His cock, impossibly hard, throbbed with each delicious movement of your body. 

"I'm here - I'm here - wake up." He poked a finger into your side making you squirm and puff a laugh across his neck.

"Jake." You hummed his name, reedy and thin "stop it - I -ugh" you grunted when he shifted you again, desperate for you to wake up. He pushed you up until you were seated across his lap, your eyes flying open. "Jake! What's happening? Are we under attack?" 

"Are we under attack? Are you fucking kidding me sweetheart?" 

"You woke me up?" 

"You woke me up!" 

You looked down, the tent of his shorts and the damp patch on your own, unmistakable. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" You tried to move but his hands kept you still, hips bucking slightly at the movement. 

"Just. Stop. If you're not going to help, stop." 

And you did. But only for a second. 

Your hand reached inside his shorts and pulled his leaking cock free, letting it tap his belly with a wet smack. Quickly you shimmied out of your own shorts before sitting astride his thighs. 

"You want me to help?"

Jake tipped his head back and nodded, "Fuck yes." Helping you to sink down into his lap, you could hardly see, blinking sleep from your eyes and letting your mind wander back into the sleepy daze it was so recently enjoying. 

"Fuck, JJ. So fucking big." You sobbed, trying to fall forwards, held up by his palms 

"Knew you'd be filthy, way you rubbed yourself on me in your sleep." He choked out. 

Jake rolled you both onto your sides, pulling you so close you could feel him breathing, wrapped together. 

"I don't- ungh - I don't rub myself on you when I'm asleep!" 

He tightened his grip on your hips, moving your body and taking ownership of each spark of arousal. 

"You do, you were being needy, whiney, my poor baby." His hands cupped your cheeks until you pouted, kisses dancing over you. "But I love it." He gave a harsh thrust, the coil of desire tightening in you.

In the gloom of the tent, and without his glasses, Jake struggled to see you properly, pressing his forehead to yours so he could feel each pinch of your eyebrows, the scrunch of your nose and the soft puff of breath you exhaled as you got closer and closer to release. His beard tickled and scratched the soft skin of your neck following his kisses. 

"I was not." You tried to protest, but Jake tipped his hips, changing the angle and catching the soft spot inside of you that made stars explode in your vision at the same time as pressing down on your swollen clit. 

"Sure, baby, sure." He teased again, face so close you were breathing as one, panting and keening into the sticky air. Each thrust forcing another high pitched whine to escape you. You tipped your head up, catching Jake's lips with your own for the first time and licking into his mouth. He held you close, a hand on the nape of your neck and noses nudging together until you could hardly breathe, dizzy with the sweetness of his kisses. 

Too soon, you felt your release building, each thrust of Jake's hips brushed firm and rhythmic over your clit, pleasure danced up your spine making your toes curl and your fingers tighten in the short blonde hair at the back of his head.

"Jay-" 

His hand clamped around your mouth to muzzle your cry of his name before moving to your lower back. He held you close while you rode out your orgasm, letting you roll your hips over him as you had in your sleep, chasing the aftershocks until you were sated and limp in his arms. 

Like a rag doll he moved you again, holding you close while he gave one, two, three final thrusts, spilling inside of you. 

"Shit." He pulled back, hands still all over you, burning warm but surprisingly soft. 

"Shit " you echoed, falling back onto your camping mat. 

"I - hah - I guess sorry for waking you up." You laughed. Deep down you knew this should have been awkward but… it was Jake. Your Jake. Somehow it just felt right to lie there with him in the after glow and, after all, wasn't this exactly what you'd been dreaming of? 

"If you want to wake me up again sometime, baby, go ahead." Jake laughed, shaking his head, surprisingly shy. With a sigh, you rolled onto your side, looking at Jake's profile in the moonlight seeping through the tent. All of a sudden,you felt very, very tired again. 

Using the last of your energy, you curled yourself into his side, Jake stretched an arm around your shoulders, tucking your head into his chest and you let your eyes fall closed again, content. 

Healingfromptsd

Where can I order a Jake for me?

Never Have I Ever…

Pairings: Jake Jensen x female reader (not My Best Friend, Jensen verse)

Warnings: explicit sexual content- oral (female receiving), explicit language, talk of past inadequate lovers, asshole ex-boyfriend, a dash of angst, pinning, pussy worship kink (is that a thing?) praise kink, implied smut, Jake being the fictional boyfriend we all deserve (18+)

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: this is not JJ x sunshine from My Best Friend, Jensen.

This is not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

'But like... never?' Jake asked, squinting in disbelief, ‘never?’

'Um... no' you shrugged, embarrassed at your admission, 'can you hand me that folder?'

You had been paired with Jensen for a huge project at work and had gotten to know him over the past few months. You'd even consider him a friend at this point. And it was a good thing, since you were now sitting cross-legged on the floor of your office, folders spread all around you as you spilled-your-guts to him about the most embarrassing part of your love life. Or lack of love life to be exact.

'OK... so like some guys can't find the g-spot... with their...' Jake cleared his throat and cocked his head slightly down towards his lap, 'but not even with his fingers or tongue?'

'I don't know...' you said, face burning with embarrassment as you tried to hide behind a folder.

'You don't know?' Jake asked, going silent while he processed your words, 'wait... did he ever go down on you?'

You were silent, chewing at your bottom lip, pretending to run the numbers again as you avoided his question. Your gut turning painfully as you worked to keep your breathing steady. This was a mistake.

'Y/N?' Jake's voice was raised in disbelief, leaning over to catch your gaze, 'hey?' His voice softened, the concern in his tone made your heart ache.

'It's not a big deal, Jake' you tried to brush it off like it didn't bother you. It's what you always told yourself at least. But deep down you knew you were lying. And something told you Jake did too.

'Not a big deal?' He choked, 'your dumbass ex boyfriend never gave you an orgasm... never tasted you and you're trying to tell me that's not a big deal?'

'Tasted me?' You squeaked, you could feel the heat wash over your face in waves, the warmth reaching your ears.

'Hell yeah, tasted you' he said from his chest, 'I love tasting the woman I'm with... laying her out, spending as much time as I can between her sweet thighs, making ‘em tremble, making her scream my name. It gets me so fuckin' hard.'

'Oooh' you managed a shaky breath as you felt an ache build deep in your belly. An ache that was too deep to reach with your fingers or your vibrator. You whimpered when Jake looked up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his pink lips.

'It really is one of my favorite things about being with a woman' he continued, as you eyes flickered to his lips, discreetly pressing your thighs together for some much needed relief. You shifted in your work-appropriate sundress, bottom lip sucked between your teeth as you hung on his every word.

'It's intimate and soft and beautiful... making a woman fall apart in your mouth' he said, his voice low and warm as you squirmed, arousal pooling in your panties.

'It's my fault, really' you offered, absentmindedly, still staring at that perfect-pink-pout, 'the ex always said I couldn't relax enough t-to cum.'

'What? Oh, fucking come on' Jake practically snarled, rolling his eyes and punching the floor as he leaned back against the base of your cushioned arm chair, his head hitting it with a soft thud.

Jake's reaction made you startle as your thoughts were pulled back to your work project and the time.

'Yeah... well' you coughed, clearing your throat uncomfortably, 'maybe if we ever finish this project I'll loosen up enough to meet a guy...'

'That's bullshit' Jake grumbled, 'please tell me you know that's bullshit' his glasses were off and he was pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing his tired eyes in frustration.

'Y/N...' he sighed, putting his glasses back on and giving you an incredulous look, 'this has nothing to do with you...'

'You don't know that' you said, eyes prickling with tears as you busied yourself with putting papers back in folders and started stacking them neatly beside you. It was well past time to call it a night.

'I do' he sighed, leaning his elbow on the seat of your chair as he angled his long lean body towards yours, 'that asshat shoulda been working to relax you... you know… get your pussy ready so he can take you apart over and over... and over' he emphasized, suggestively.

'Well there was never even one over... so there couldn't be multiple overs...' you snorted, 'um... remind me why you're single again?' You teased.

'Why are you?' He shot back, but his voice didn't have his usual playfulness to it.

'I told you... frigid bitch' you smirked, your self deprecating sense of humor usually earning you at least a pity chuckle from Jake, but this time he remained stoic, unspoken emotion burning in his eyes.

Jake took a deep steadying breath, his jaw clicking as he smoldered with an emotion you hadn't seen from him before... Anger.

Jake was angry. He was fuming in fact. And for the first time since you had started working on this project, you wanted to be anywhere else then with him.

You finished stacking the rest of the folders with no help from Jake, leaning on all fours to reach the ones farthest from you. You swear you heard a low rumble in his chest when you leaned just over him.

'Well... um... I'll see you tomorrow' you stumbled over awkward words as Jake pushed off the floor, rising slowly to his feet. It was the first time you realized just how much taller he was then you.

He still hadn't said a word, was just glowering down at you with a smolder that made a tingle snake up your spine, your heart hammered against your rib cage. You shifted uncomfortably, the slick in your panties making your thighs stick together under your dress.

'Y/N' Jake growled your name as you moved to get up, he offered you a hand and you accepted, tired legs wobbling a little, regaining your balance as you smoothed your hands down the length of your dress, a nervous habit.

'I'm sorry... I...' you began, but Jake was pulling you into his chest as he ducked down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as if he needed you to breath. His large hands tentatively framing your face, his action a contrast to the burning need he felt for you. You leaned into the kiss, needing him just as much as he needed you.

'I wanna taste you' his voice was low as he took the time to explore your mouth, sitting down and pulling you, still standing, between his thighs.

You nodded against his lips, carding your hands through his hair as your tongue swept into his mouth. Jake groaned, gripping at your soft curves before his hands smoothed down your hips. Your breath hitched when his warm fingers cradled one of your knees, gently opening you up.

Jake pressed his forehead to your belly, shivering you could feel the warmth of his kisses chaining over the fabric that covered your thighs. Your hands went to his broad shoulders as his fingertips softly traced up your bare legs. You held your breath when his finger hooked into the string waistband of your panties resting low on your hips.

'This OK?' He asked, staring up at you, the cool blue of his eyes dancing with desire.

You bit your bottom lip, nodding your answer as your entire body trembled with anticipation.

'Need ya to use your words, pretty' he goaded, 'been waitin’ so long to taste you... fuck, can't tell you how many nights I left here rock-hard just dreaming about this sweet cunt on my tongue' he has tugging your panties down your legs as a breathy yes was pulled from your throat, a chant on your lips.

Jake groaned when he got your panties off your body, stuffing the delicate ruined fabric in his back pocket.

'Smell even sweeter then I imagined' he hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your cloth covered clit, pausing there to inhale your scent.

You whimpered, impatiently, wiggling your hips and grinding up into his face, seeking any sort of relief for your swollen bundle if nerves.

'Still not a big deal, baby?' He teased as a sob escaped your lips, you trembled, knees weak as you fought the urge to collapse.

'Shhhhhh' Jake cooed, 'I got you, pretty' he smiled softly, removing his glasses and tossing them to the side table before taking the hem of your sundress and bunching it up to your waist, he hooked your leg behind the knee and slowly brought it up over his shoulder, never breaking eye contact with you as he gave you time to adjust to your new position. He didn't even flinch when your nails dug into the meat of his broad shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

'Gonna show you just how much of a treat you are' his words came in hot puffs over your mound as you stared down at him, body tense with nerves.

Jake's nose ran up the length of your folds before diving right in, sucking your pearl into his mouth in a messy kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

‘Fuck, taste so good’ he hummed his appreciation, a man starved.

The chorus of moans Jake was pulling from you was heaven to his ears. They started soft and timid as you rocked over his strong tongue but soon enough you were grinding into him, needing more.

'Oh, god, Jake' you gasped, 'please....please' you whined, not even sure what you were pleading for until he speared into your center, fucking you with his thick tongue.

Your body jolted forward, catching yourself on the back of the chair when he added a finger to where his tongue was fucking into you. Jake groaned possessively as his finger curled into your spongey walls and hooked into a spot that made you see stars.

'Fuck, Jake' you choked, squirming as the pressure in your belly built hot and heavy.

'Come on, pretty' Jake praised, 'doing so good for me' he said, licking a thick strip up your folds as he palmed his impossibly hard cock.

'I can't' you whined, overwhelming pleasure flooding your senses. You gasped when he took handfuls of your ass, rocking your hips into his mouth as he sucked your pearl with a harsh flick of his tongue.

You sobbed when the coil in your belly snapped, unraveling as a warmth washed over your entire body and you collapsed into Jake's chest utterly sated as your heart kicked against your rib cage.

Jake pressed his wet lips to your dewy crown, smirking when he noticed the tear stains streaking your cheeks. You were completely wrecked in the prettiest way possible.

'You wanna see what real pleasure tastes like?' He murmured against your temple, gripping your ankle and shifting you until you were straddling his lap.

'Yes' you panted as he crashed his lips to yours, the tang of your arousal still on his tongue as you felt his heavy length press against your sensitive mound, making you cry out.

You groaned, breaking the kiss too soon as you pressed your forehead to his, suddenly feeling self conscious.

So... that's cumming?’ you whispered against his lips, the corners of your mouth curling into a shy smile.

'Oh, pretty' his laugh was warm, 'that’s just a taste…wait until you're making a mess on my cock.'

You whimpered, pressing a hard kiss to his lips before pulling back and helping him with his glasses.

‘That’s better’ he smiled up at you, ‘hi, pretty girl’ Jake said.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, butterflies fluttering in your chest. You sighed, tired and happy as you lazily ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, ducking down for a soft, shy kiss.

‘Thank you’ you whispered, suddenly feeling the weight of every asshole you ever dated all at once.

‘Hey, it’s OK’ he soothed, ‘you did so good, baby… so good’ he smiled caressing your cheek as he wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

‘Can I…’ he started and stopped, ‘can I make you cum again?’ he asked, ‘I'll take you out to dinner first' he offered, flashing you his boyish grin.

‘Why wait for dinner’ you sniffled, smiling down at him with a soft giggle as he wrapped his big arms around you, pulling you into the first of many filthy kisses.

The divider was made by the talented and lovely @firefly-graphics 🖤

As always, thanks for all the love 🖤

One order of love, coming right up!!

I'm on this and I'm not sure if I like it

Baby fox with a broken leg gets rescued and visits the vet for his cast.

(via)

#wisdom

My body battery is completely worn out then

I live in a world where instead of staring at peggy creepily and rummaging thru her office, steve rogers went back in time to brooklyn in the 1920s and watched a single mother picking her bloody, bruised boy off the ground. the perspective changed from steve watching them, to steve being the boy. his mother holds him gently, but with an iron grip. she tells him, you always stand up. you always stand up.

when steve is on the ground in the final battle, body broken and failing, his breath wheezing and his teeth stained red, he hears his mother’s voice in his ear. he remembers who he is. he’s not the guy who sits in basements mourning, he is not the guy who lets his grief or sorrow or pain demobilize him. no matter how much the world throws at him, he cannot let it keep him down. he is the man who stands up when no one else can. when no one else wants to. when he thinks even his own poor legs can’t hold him.

he stands up, looks thanos in the eyes, and says, finally believing it, “I can do this all day”

Awn, good for reader for standing up for herself

Would love to read a continuation with Clark 💜

Mini skirt

Holacia Note: This started as an idea from the song Minifalda but spiraled out of control and this is what I got 🤷‍♀️

Summary: You and your friends head out for drinks and dancing when you run into your stupid ex-boyfriend. 

Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word Count: ~860

Warnings: history of unhealthy relationship, drinking, lady sticking up for herself. Remember to never drink and drive! Surprise cameo 

Tag List: @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @thiskindahotkindamusic​

Continuar a ler

Happy: “Kid–,”

Peter, looking absolutely betrayed: “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Happy: “I didn’t mean to lie to you, I swear. I thought you knew.”

Peter, dramatic as hell: “Five years.”

Happy: “Peter–,”

Peter: “I spent five years believing that your god-given name was Happy Hogan.”

Happy: “—I’ll buy you ice cream or something, anything, just please don’t cry—,”

Peter, already tearing up: “I don’t even know who you are anymore, Harold.”

A fucking masterpiece !!

Rouse

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,542 Summary: As far as wake up calls go, this wasn’t the worst. Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Explicit language. Unprotected sex. Slight breeding kink if you squint. Soft!Ransom (but he’s hard when it counts 😘). 18+ ONLY.

A/N: Blame (or thank) @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for this. I saw this post on her blog and my hoe brain just fucking ran with it. Enjoy, my pretties. Ilu ❤️❤️

Continuar a ler