#FROM THE MOMENT I SAW YOU TRYING TO GO OVER THAT WALL

[artdcnaldson]

changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot

Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.

FALL 2006

You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.  

It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class. 

You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name. 

Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.

You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.

But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.

“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi. 

Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.

“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly. 

Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall. 

But you were being so understanding and cool about that. 

Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw. 

You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”

The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way. 

Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”

“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest. 

“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”

It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?

Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart. 

But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of. 

“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team. 

There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”

——

An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm. 

His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.

“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs. 

His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.

“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer. 

So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”

A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”

Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need. 

He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers. 

“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there. 

His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.

And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.

As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes. 

You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. 

Why was he thinking about Patrick?

He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum. 

When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt. 

You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine. 

You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.

“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”

He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”

You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt. 

“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh.  You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”

Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”

A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.

Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”

You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction. 

“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.

In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night. 

SPRING 2007

After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time. 

Most likely not the last time. 

Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.

You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you. 

No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game. 

You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.

All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.

“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?” 

“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?

You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…

“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.

You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”

Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would. 

Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine. 

Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches. 

“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”

“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.

You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”

“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”

You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”

——

An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer. 

His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up. 

The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot. 

You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin. 

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.

He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.

“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”

That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”

With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.

You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.

He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.

Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.

And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.

Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him. 

You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”

“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.

“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”

It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at. 

But he was good at other things.

You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.

It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process. 

You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later. 

His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue. 

You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.

His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim. 

“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly.  There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.

“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.

“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra. 

That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”

As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either). 

He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms. 

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.

The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.

Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor. 

“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.

When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”

You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”

He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly. 

You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.

The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.

A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”

Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.

It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue. 

There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face. 

Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp. 

He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants. 

“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.

Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. 

When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him. 

“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room. 

“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”

He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal. 

You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips. 

“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.

“Mhmm. Bedside table.”

He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.  

He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”

“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet. 

“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”

He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”

No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you. 

It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath. 

And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.

He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him. 

With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?” 

One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.

“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“

“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”

A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest. 

Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.

But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.

You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.

Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine. 

With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say. 

You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly. 

Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows. 

Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips. 

“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”

You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge. 

“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins. 

“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“

Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted. 

You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you. 

You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you. 

With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.

“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion. 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.

thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3

#challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic #challengers fanfic #my writing

[castiwls]

i think I'll miss you forever - a.d

Paring; art x ex!reader

Requested; no

Synopsis; leaving always hurts worse the second time around

Warnings; none

Notes;this is long and sad :( reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist

Taking another sip you felt the alcohol burn slightly as you swallowed. After the day you had you welcomed the burn, it took your mind off the absolute shit show that was your job. 

Placing your chin onto your palm you continued to mindlessly scroll through another report you’d been sent, mentally making a list of things you’d need to change in the morning. Reaching for your drink you moved your wrist in a small circle, watching as the liquid sloshed around in the glass. 

Taking another sip you placed the glass down. Going back to the report you went back to reading a paragraph you were pretty sure you’d already read. A sigh tumbled from your lips as you scrolled further down - mentally noting more things to change.

The sound of your name being called pulled you from the report. Sitting up straighter your eyes glanced round the relatively empty bar for a moment before you felt your breath stop. 

Your heart seemed to speed up slightly as you noticed the familiar figure only a few feet away. He smiled brightly, his eyes sparkling almost as he noticed your attention on him. 

“Art?” You gasped standing from your chair. He quickly strode across the room, his smile only seeming to widen as he got closer. When he’d first noticed you he could hardly believe it.  

It had been years since he’d last saw you, yet his heart seemed to beat just as fast as it did the day that he’d met you. He’d felt like a teenager again, trying to hype himself up to talk to a cute girl yet you were so much more than that. 

You were so much more to him still, and seeing you again after all those years only made those feelings he’d pushed down come crashing down on him.

“Hey.” His arms quickly engulfed you the moment he was close enough. A small noise of surprise left your lips before you reciprocated the hug. Art felt a small sigh of relief leave his lips as his body relaxed into your hold.

His chin rested on your head as he pulled you slightly closer, almost as if he was unwilling to let go. After a moment you loosened your hold, stepping back slightly.

You didn’t miss the way he kept one of his hands on your waist as he watched you for a moment. “I…I didn’t believe it was you.” He laughed his thumb slowly rubbing your hip. 

You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you saying I’ve changed?” You teased watching as his eyes widened slightly and he shook his head. “No..No I uh,” He rubbed his free hand across his neck. “You don’t look a day older.” 

He was telling the truth. You looked exactly the same as you did when he’d last seen you. 

You flushed slightly letting out a quiet laugh. “Thanks. You…you look good too.” You both grew quiet for a moment, the quiet wasn't an awkward one though it was something comfortable. Something so simple and normal it almost felt as if barely a day had passed since you’d last seen each other.  

“Oh, I uh…I heard about your engagement. Congratulations.” You smiled feeling his grip on your waist tighten for a moment. 

When you’d first heard of Art’s engagement part of you had been angry. You knew realistically it was dumb, you and him had broken up a year after college meaning you no longer held any claim over him. But that didn’t stop the feeling of jealousy that had ran through you at the news.

Tashi had been one of your best friends during college and finding out that she of all people was engaged to your ex had left you spiralling - your bedroom wall still had the evidence of your anger.

Art nodded his smile fading slightly as his gaze fell to his shoes for a moment. “Thanks.” You frowned slightly as his demeanour seemed to fall for a moment before he plastered a grin back on his face.

He didn’t know why hearing you mention his engagement stung so much. He was happy truly yet hearing you congratulate him only left a bad taste in his mouth.  “What about you.” He quickly diverted the conversation watching you with an expectant look. “Anyone in your life?”

“Oh.” you gasped before holding up your left hand. “Married actually. 4 months next week.” You smiled watching as he started at your rings for a moment. “Wow.” Art felt his heart drop slightly as his breathing picked up ever so slightly.

You were married.

“Con…congratulations” He pulled you into another hug, this time though to hide the pained expression on his face. When he’d first seen you part of him hoped that maybe by some miracle you were still single but he knew it was naive.

Of course, you’d be married, who wouldn’t want someone like you? He pulled back after a moment. “I’m happy for you. Really.” You nodded feeling his thumb continue to rub circles on your waist.

For a moment you felt yourself get lost in his eyes. Your heartbeat sped up slightly as he stared down at you his lips parted slightly. His grip tightened on your waist subtly causing you to shuffle slightly closer.

‘It should have been him’ The thought continued to circle through his mind the longer he stood there. It had been so long since he’d felt any sense of jealousy that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

Yet that little green monster seemed to have returned. Taking a quiet breath he pushed the feelings down. He had the life he’d always dreamed off. He was happy.

“It’s um…it’s late i should probably head up.” Your voice pulled him from his head. Art nodded. “Oh yea…i guess i should to.” He begrudgingly released his grip on your waist watching as you turned around to gather your things.

His mind was going a mile a minute as he realised you were slipping away again. For a few moments he’d been able to pretend that you were still his, but then reality came crashing down and he realised that you hadn’t been his for a long time.

"If I had asked, would you have stayed?" The words made you pause. Turning to face him, your eyes widened slightly as you replayed his words in your head. “What?” You felt your lips part slightly as his eyes found yours.

“If I’d have asked you to marry me. Would you have stayed? He repeated. He almost looked like a kicked puppy as he waited for your response, his eyes pledging with you to say something.

You’d have said yes a million times over. Hell, you’d say yes right now if he asked. But you knew it was impossible, your time had passed.

“Art.” You whispered moving to cup his cheek. His hand came up to cover yours as he leaned into the touch - his eyes closing.

You swallowed letting out a shaky breath. “But you never did.” 

Your words were quiet but they cut through him like a knife as he opened his eyes, a small frown pulling at his lips. Dropping your hand you reached for your bag. “So I guess we never know.” You sent him a small smile before mumbling goodnight as you passed him.

As you walked away tears began to sting at your eyes, walking away the first time had been hard yet doing it again felt almost impossible. Reaching the entrance to the lobby you paused, turning back. 

Art stood still watching you. His arms ached to reach out, to make you stay but he knew it was wrong. His eyes were glassy with unleashed tears as you stared at him from across the room. 

His hands shook slightly as he held your gaze. Before you could stop yourself your feet were moving on their own accord. Art reached out, his hand grabbing your wrist once you were close enough. 

You fell back into his arms naturally, your hand settling on the nape of his neck. You felt him tuck his face into the crook of your neck, a shaky breath escaping him. “I love you.” He mumbled as he pulled back.

“I love you too.” You watched as a tear slipped down his cheek. Leaning up you pressed a kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering for a moment before you pulled back.

Art’s grip on your wrist loosened slightly as you stepped back.

 “Goodbye Art.” 

#challengers #challengers movie #art donaldson #art donaldson fic #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson drabble #art donaldson angst #challengers x reader #challengers x you #challengers imagine #challengers drabble #art challengers #challengers 2024 #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #mike faist #mike faist x reader #.mine #.challengers #.artdonaldson

[periluvr]

jujutsu kaisen x bridgerton

which confession from the bridgerton’s universe would say jjk’s men to their future wife/wife?

ft. geto, gojo, megumi and yuji

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Geto Suguru being the king George, y’know, i really feel like what the king George said to queen Charlotte would be something Geto would say because of his mental issues. I think he’d rather suffer alone than talking to his issues to his wife not to worry her.

Suguru stands up, raises his voice and looks at you, "I’m a madman. I am a danger. In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and the Earth collide. I do not know where I am!"

you raise your voice back, your face is firm, your brows are furrowed, "Do you love me?"

he doesn’t respond to your question and continues to talk about his issue, "You do not wish a life with me for yourself" — he stops — "No one, wishes that".

that’s bullshit! your think to yourself, what the hell would he think that? "Suguru! I will stand with you between the heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?"

shouts echo through the room, the argument keeps going, "I love you! from the mo—" he takes a deep breath "from the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall—" tears begin to form in his eyes "I have loved you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, yn. My heart calls your name."

both of your breathing are synchronized, Suguru comes closer and kisses you, desperately.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru being Anthony Bridgerton, i just know sooo well this man thinks he’s THE gentleman of the season, every seasons. I think he doesn’t want to find a wife since he’s the head of his family and he just does what he’s supposed to do but when he first saw you, an inner conflict began.

You’re both in the library, he really wants you to leave or he’s going to do something he’ll regret instantly. He hates you since the first time you met but he doesn’t know why. You just told him you’re leaving for your country and he can’t help but feels betrayed, sad and angry.

Satoru closes his book and looks at you firmly, "do you think there is a corner on this earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?"

you look at him completely confused, what the hell is he talking about? you start talking but he cuts you off.

"I am a gentleman, my father raised me to act with honor but that honor is hanging on a thread that grows precarious with every moment I spend in your presence."

"Satoru I—" he comes closer and whispers to your hear "You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires. Night and day I dream of you."

You can’t even say a word. He steps back, takes a sip of his whisky "My mother is waiting for me" he quickly bows to you and leaves the room. You’re now all alone in the library thinking about what he just said to you.

Fushiguro Megumi being Simon Basset, i really think this man wants a partner who can be his bestfriend too, even though he never wanted to get married at first.

both of you are no standing in front of your majesty, wishing she’s going to accept your marriage. Megumi has always been a good man to you, but he never wanted to marry you, until that day. Today, you have to convince the queen to marry you.

"You see your Majesty, it was love at first sight—" you start but Megumi cuts you off, "It was not your Majesty" — he looks at you, and you just look completely stunned by his words — "the young lady flatters me, it was not love at first sight for either of us. There’s attraction certainly, at least on my part and Miss [last name] thought me presumptuous, arrogant, insincere, all fair really." — he pauses and breaths heavily, "And I thought her a prim young lady barely out of leading strings, not to mention the sister of my best friend and so romance was entirely out of the question for both of us but in so removing it, we found something far greater." — Megumi looks at you once again — "We found friendship." — The queen looks more interested now — "You see Miss [last name] and I have been fooling all of Shinjuku for quite some time, we have fooled them into thinking we are courting, and really all along, we simply enjoyed each other’s company so much, we could not stay away from one another—" you look at him, mesmerized by his words and presence in front of the queen. "I’ve never been a man that much enjoyed flirting or chatting or indeed talking at all, but with yn—" he clears his throat, "Miss [last name], conversation has always been easy, her laughter brings me joy. To meet a beautiful woman is one thing, but to meet your best friend and the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart…"

Everyone is looking at Megumi absolutely stunned by his confession. He really just said you two were fooling all of Shinjuku by pretending a future marriage?

You didn’t say anything and just keep listening to Megumi, excusing himself towards the queen and the prince.

When you go out from here you look at Megumi and ask him "Did a just say that to the Majesty for her to accept our marriage or—" he sighs, "I think all of what I said. I really think that."

Itadori Yuji being Collin Bridgerton, idk why but Yuji really gives ‘friends to lovers’ vibe and i’m HERE for it! I think this man doesn’t understand signals when someone likes him.

After helping you to find a man, Yuji starts feeling jealous of men trying to court you. When he saw you leaving the ball with your ripped dress, he couldn’t help but feel bad for you. He followed you to your coach and asked you to get on.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?" you ask him, this is definitely not why a gentleman he’s supposed to do, even though you two know each other since eight or nine.

He looks at you and starts telling you what’s in his mind. He talks rapidly because you’re going to you’ll soon reach your estate.

"I have spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be. And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded. But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings." — he takes your hands in his — "Feeling like a total inability to stop thinking about you—" he looks at your lips, "about that kiss. Feelings like dreaming of you when I’m asleep, and in fact preferring sleep because that is where I might find you. A feeling that is like torture!" — he takes a deep breath — "But one which I cannot, will not, do not want to give up"

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, "please, do not say things you do not mean" — "I do mean it. It is everything I have wanted to say to you for weeks".

You’re now looking at each other. Yuji caresses your cheeks with his thumb and he finally kisses you. The kiss is delicate but rough at the same time. You wanted this for so long!

Once you arrive in front of the Itadori’s estate. He gets out of the coach and offers you his hand to get out too.

"Yuji?" — "Are you coming with me?" he smiles, "What? Your family will see me!" he comes closer, "For God’s sake, yn [last name], are you going to marry me or not?"

You take his hands and goes to his estate, with him.

i wanted to write this for soooo long!!! i had this idea with two of my friends @sunelia and @nycteis17 (look at her fanfiction of sukuna in ao3 : the irony of fate)

i put the one who have a netflix season because i didn’t read the books yet and i didn’t want to put fake things or whatever coming from the books.

i’m trying a new style of header, tell me if you prefer this one or not !!!

english isn’t my first language ;)

divider by : @saradika

#jujutsu kaisen #periluvr #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo x you #i love you gojo #yuji fluff #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #jjk yuji #itadori x reader #jujutsu itadori #megumi imagine #megumi fluff #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jjk fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader #geto imagines #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto fluff #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #getou suguru x you

[crimsonmoonlight88]

You Belong With Me

Pairing: Mae x Noa

Note: Inspired by the photo Freya shared and this gorgeous rendition by @cj-k. Thank you for letting me share this beauty!

Mae found him by the fire, sitting with his pile of books and rolls of parchment. The hut he had crafted reminded her of a scholar's study, and she supposed it was. Or as close to one as it could be. It was still a shock to her that he could read, that he was teaching the others in the clan.

She told herself she did not wish to disturb him, but the truth was that her throat had closed up. This ape...he was the first that had showed her mercy and compassion, and he had nearly died saving her life. She had later saved his in return, but it did not feel enough, somehow.

"So late," Raka observed, glancing up at her at last. "And so..." His voice trailed off as he squinted in the dim light, trying to read her expression.

Mae quickly morphed her face into neutrality. Steeling herself, she forced herself to speak, to move forward with the inevitable. "I wanted to return this to you," she said, removing the familiar medallion from around her neck. She hesitated, feeling oddly bare without it, before extending it to him. "It is yours, after all."

Raka did not take it. He merely looked at the circular symbol, then met her gaze. "It was...a gift," he said gently. "For Noa. And now...it is yours."

Mae's hand shook. "Just take it."

"It is yours," Raka repeated.

"I don't want it!" she snapped, her voice cracking in the night.

Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable. Raka closed his book, his dark eyes narrowing in a way that saw too much.

Mae let out a sound of exasperation and looked away. Her eyes wandered until they focused on the fading words of one of the tattered old books: The Words of Caesar. She knew this book. Raka read from it weekly to the others; she had listened only twice, too afraid to hear more.

With a sigh, Mae took a step forward and gently laid the necklace across the book so that the medallion rested on Caesar's name. She stared at it only briefly before finding Raka's gaze once more.

Sadness--and knowing--shone in his too-human eyes. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She felt as stripped of voice now as she had in the wilderness. So she forced herself to turn, moving mechanically to the flap of the door. She reached for it, but then Raka halted her when he spoke.

"I finally found..." he started, "why we call them...Nova."

Mae hesitated. She did not want to know the reason, and yet she turned, angling her head slightly. Waiting. Dreading. Curious, despite herself.

But Raka only smiled gently. "A tale...for another day...I think."

"Maybe someday I could hear it," Mae whispered.

Raka bowed his head, his eyes shining. "I look forward...to that day...Mae."

Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She darted outside into the chilly night. The moon shone brightly in the sky, and Mae practically sprinted away, heading past the rebuilt structures and toward the small hut the apes had built for her.

Her breathing was ragged as she flung back the animal pelt that served as a door. She she stood there a moment, taking in what had, for the past few weeks--or months--been her home. A bedding of blue cloth and sack stuffed with feathers for her head. A blanket of warmth. Pelts draped over the sides like makeshift walls for privacy. A bucket. A basket of nuts and fruits.

It was not like the bunker with mild human comforts, but it was...hers.

Mae did not know how long she stood there in silence, but a hoot of an owl had her finally moving.

Her hands shook as she knelt and hastily stuffed the few items she possessed into her ragged rucksack. She swiped at her face angrily, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall.

"Going...somewhere?"

Mae whipped around in alarm, reaching for the knife in her boot on instinct. Noa stood in the makeshift doorway, watching her with a sort of calm wariness, his stance almost defensive. She hated that look, that stance--it was so frighteningly human.

His eyes tracked the knife in her hand, his nostrils flaring. In his right hand dangled the medallion. Her throat went dry.

Mae slid the knife back into her boot. "I have to leave," she managed to say, her voice hoarse.

Confusion gleamed in Noa's eyes. "Why?"

"I can't stay here. I'm not..." She struggled to explain how she felt, but forced her way through. "I don't belong here."

"You..." Noa's mouth worked as he mulled over her words, as though he could find no understanding in them. "You would...disappear into the night?"

Mae swallowed thickly, but said nothing. Could say nothing.

"Where would you...go?" He took a step inside, his face incredulous. "You said...you said you had...nothing left."

He had not spoken cruelly, but the words found their mark and Mae flinched. When she had returned here with an injured and scarcely-breathing Raka, she had planned on staying only long enough to see him recover. But then she had stayed longer, and finally admitted the truth to herself, to Noa--that she could not return to the others, to the bunker. That was the agreement, the price for her mission.

He had only asked if she had delivered her book. She said yes. They had spoken no more of it.

Mae had seen the satellites rotate, and knew she had succeeded. That hope for humanity had burned so brightly in that moment, but at some point these past few weeks, she had started to feel a sense of impending doom. She didn't know when she stopped hoping to be found by more humans and when she had started to dread it.

Mae wanted humanity to regain their dominance, their strength, but she wanted this clan, these apes who had accepted and forgiven her, despite what she had done, to remain untouched. She knew it was Noa and Raka's influence that aided in that forgiveness, but she was grateful none the less.

They did not deserve to be caught in the crossfire.

"Mae," Noa said, drawing her attention back to him. "It is...not safe," he insisted. "Out there...alone."

"It's not safe if I stay either."

He looked to her rucksack, then back to her, and took another step closer. "You are safe here...with Eagle Clan. With me."

Mae felt her heart shatter. He did not realize it was he who was not safe--because of her.

"I can't stay," she forced herself to say. "I can't, Noa. And whatever this is..." She waved her hand between them, letting the silence fall.

Noa angled his head. "What is...this?"

"It's..." Words failed her. She didn't know how to explain what it was between them. All she knew was that it would not end well. It couldn't possibly end well. "It's not important."

Noa stared at her.

"Not...important?" He angled his head slightly as he prowled closer, eyes narrowed. "Not important," he repeated, testing the words and making a face, as though finding them sour.

Mae could only say nothing. Could not bring herself to speak another lie. Not to him.

He stood close now, a mere inch taller but somehow towering over her. She glanced away, unable to bear the look on his face.

After what felt like an eternity, he reached up and gently slid the medallion back around her neck. Then he leaned down, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "You are a better liar...than that."

A tear slid down Mae's cheek. As he pulled back slightly, her eyes found his, and the intensity in his gaze took her breath away.

Against her better judgement, her right hand slid up his strong arm, curling into his fur. Her other hand found the band on his other arm, her fingers brushing against the soft feathers.

His arms went around her, angling himself almost protectively, like it was the most natural thing in the world. For a long moment they just stood there, locked in an embrace that seemed to stop time.

Noa's eyes seared into her soul, more human than she had ever seen. "You were...wrong," he breathed. "You belong...with me."

(This picture feels like a cliffhanger, so I ended this just so. In my mind, of course Mae stays. ;))

#nomae #noa x mae #noamae #noa and mae #crimsonmoonlightfic #maenoa

[weneeya]

masquerade w/ wriothesley m.list | rules

note. i had this idea in mind for a moment so i hope you'll like it as much as i loved writing it <3 requests are still open!

There was this huge masquerade ball organized by the King himself, and there were a lot of important figures who were invited to it. It was like the night where you should be if you wanted to be seen by someone well-placed. 

Wriothesley was a duke, a pretty popular one. He wasn’t married so he came here all alone, only with a few guards to assure his protection, like a lot of people here. He was currently waiting against a wall, his wolf mask resting on his face to only show his eyes and the bottom of his face. He was observing all the people around, talking and dancing. 

Until you entered the ballroom. When his eyes laid on you, it was almost impossible for him to look away. He blinked slowly, trying to process how pretty you were looking right now. With this huge and bright dress of yours, and this mask which was making you look like a fairy. You were enchanting and he didn’t even realize that his body had started to move on its own. 

Wriothesley stopped in front of you, gently grabbing your hand hidden in a glove to leave a small kiss on top of it. A smile appeared on the corner of his lips and he raised his eyes in your direction. “You look mesmerizing, princess,” he said and you simply smiled softly at his words. “Duke Wriothesley. I should have known you would be here.” 

Your words made him chuckle slightly, letting go of your hand. He grabbed two glasses as a waiter passed by, giving one to you. You took it, thanking him with a small gesture of your head. You took a sip of your drink and he did the same, glazing in your direction at the same time. “You surely took your time before arriving.” 

You looked back into his gaze, slowly raising your eyebrows before sighing a little. “Travel has been complicated.” You explained to him, and the duke slowly nodded. The two of you talked for a few moments before a song started to play in your ears. Wriothesley looked at you and you saw a smirk appearing on his lips. 

He offered his hand to you, slightly leaning over. “May you dance with me?” He asked, and you slowly rolled your eyes. You smiled gently before taking his hand, letting him guide you in the middle of the ballroom to dance together. 

His hand rested on your waist, and the other one in your hand ; while you let your hand resting on his shoulder. You followed his steps without any hesitation, your eyes locked into his gaze. It was like time had stopped around the both of you. He couldn’t help himself but to look into your eyes like he was hypnotized by them. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” he said, a sigh leaving his lips. Feeling you so close to him right now, your scent all over his nose and the warmth radiating from you. Everything was so overwhelming but he would never complain about it. You chuckled a little, before approaching your face to whisper closer to his ear. 

“Oh no, I don’t want you to die yet,” you told him, and he was sure that he felt his heart stopping inside of his chest. He gulped slightly, before finally meeting your eyes again. He was glad he had this stupid mask or else anyone would see how burning his face was right now. 

Then, the song finally stopped. You took a step away from him, a soft smile drawn over your lips. “Thank you for this dance, Duke. I hope we’ll meet again tonight.” You winked at him, before leaving the poor Wriothesley all alone with himself and his thoughts in the middle of the ballroom. 

He blinked a few times, slowly. It was hard for him to realize what has just happened right now. Since when were you so confident? He was sure he never saw you being like this before. His eyes searched for you, but you were nowhere to be seen in the room. You passed his hand over his face, trying to get back to what he was previously doing. 

He was right, you really were going to be the death of him.

thank you for reading!

#wriothesley #wriothesely x reader #wriothesely genshin #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley hcs #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs

[quill-and-quiver]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: house of the dragon | aemond targaryen x fem!reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖����𝚛𝚢: You haven't seen your husband in a month. When he returns, you decide to show your love by giving a little affection to his battle scars. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: arranged marriage, mention of scars (no descriptions!), a tinge of angst, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, eye contact teehee, overstim and bondage if you squiiiint | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know! 𝚆/𝙲: 2.5k — 11 min read time .·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: ig i just really like my soft silver-haired boys. this was NOT supposed to be smut originally 💀 but shit am i glad it morphed into this 🤍 mills

✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧

Your hands grasp feverishly all along Aemond’s bare, hot skin. Your fingernails dig into his flesh and tangle in his silver locks. His hands roam your body, sliding up your thigh as his fingertips grip the muscle of your waist and hip, maybe hard enough to bruise. His lips attack your neck. He bites and sucks on every shred of sensitive skin available to him. He pulls it between his teeth, and you gasp.

Your husband has just returned from a trip after being gone for more than than a month. Despite his frequent jaunting off to do business, you’ve never been apart that long. Now that he’s back, you need him. Desperately. And judging by the pressure near your inner thigh, he needs you just as bad.

Your touch moves from his bare chest onto his neck. You grip his nape and force his face to yours,  pressing harsh kisses on him. His tongue slides between your lips, pushing its way into your mouth. You moan into his kiss, and your fingers trace his jaw. You trail your fingertip up over his cheek. Absentmindedly, caught up in the moment, your finger drags across the jagged scar cutting down Aemond’s cheekbone.

He jerks, his lips slipping from your own. Your eyes flash open just in time to watch him back away. His back slams against the wall behind him. Breaths heaving, your eyebrows furrow.

“Aemond? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” you ask, a bit frantically.

His blue-grey eye is wide, his nostrils flared. He drops his head, and your gut clenches with nerves. Though he doesn’t say anything, you can see his eyelashes flick from side to side. He traces every detail on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze. You gulp and carefully step toward him, one foot at a time. Once beside him, you bend your head to try and lock his eye, but he avoids you.

“Aemond…you’re worrying me.”

You lift your arm to reach for him, but he holds up a hand. You freeze. Your face screws up in concern, a sharp ache building in your tightening chest. Shaking your head, you recount everything that just happened. Though you replay the scene over and over in your head, you can’t understand. Until you remember the part where you touched his scar. Your eyebrows unfurl and you release a disappointed breath.

The scar. The one he’d gotten as a gift from his nephew Jacaerys. The one that would never, ever go away. It had disfigured his otherwise perfect skin and half-blinded him. Permanently.

Your marriage was arranged. You never really got the opportunity to know your husband before you professed your vows in front of a hundred witnesses just over a year ago. You’ve both been physical since the start; a significant factor in your willingness to marry Aemond was your raw attraction to him. This is not the first time you’ve been hasty with yourselves. More often than you would care to admit, you’ve pounced on each other with little care as to who saw or heard you. And yet, all the times you’ve fucked before, when you’ve been as close as two human beings could possibly be, you’ve somehow never touched his scar. Not once. You have no idea what lies underneath that scrap of leather.

You know Aemond is not a naturally trusting person. From the few details he’s let slip about his childhood, you can understand why. Since your wedding day, you’ve both made a concerted effort to grow closer. It’s proved much easier than you were expecting, but you know very well there is much more of his trust to be earned.

Tonight you allowed yourself to become frenzied, trapped in a dangerous lust which drew attention to the one part of himself that shames Aemond most.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

With your tousled hair and the disheveled appearance of your clothes, you feel dirty. You wrap your arms around your torso. You want nothing more than to drown your body in a thick blanket and cover every inch of yourself. To disappear into darkness. You hate that you’ve made him feel this way.

“I didn’t…” you continue, unsure what to say but desperate to make him better. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I-”

“Stop,” he interrupts you, his voice firm. “Just stop.”

You grip yourself tighter. You bite your tongue to keep your emotions at bay. Aemond lifts his head, his silver hair draping over his shoulder. You look to him, your pleading stare blurred by your tears. His face is hardened, jaw clenched, fists by his sides. Your heart aches. He stares at you for a moment, his face cold as stone. Your gut lurches as he steps toward you. And then brushes past you. You squeeze your eyes shut to blink the tears away.

He sits on the bed and rests his elbows on his knees. You allow him a few seconds of silence. It’s all you can bear before you cautiously make your way over to him. Worried that he’ll tell you off again, you slow when you near him. He says nothing. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he interrupts.

“It wasn’t you, pet. Don’t apologize again.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you drop to your knees. You crawl between his legs and then, bracing your hands on his thighs, lean your cheek against his leg. A few tears slip silently down your cheek. You let them fall.

Aemond’s fingers snake under your chin, raising your gaze to his. He brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tear stains away. He stares unrelentingly into your eyes, searching. You tilt your head as if to ask what he sees. You raise one of your hands from his thigh, reaching out to place it on his heart. He heaves a deep breath and gulps. You watch like a hawk while his hand raises toward the leather eyepatch. He smoothly lifts it up and over his head, placing it on the mattress beside him.

There, in place of a matching stormy grey eye, is a sapphire orb. Sparkling and…beautiful. Though you could not deny that you’ve sometimes feared this exact moment, you find yourself mesmerized, perhaps even entranced by what you see. You move slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wishes. He does not. You touch your fingers to the scar, tracing the line down his cheek. His eyes close, his eyebrows furrowing.

You smile. You love the feeling of him, any part of him. Even the skin, the parts, others may see as damaged. You love them. Because they're him.

You stand and pull him along with you. Wrapping your fingers around his palm, you place a kiss to a small scar on the back of his hand. Though you’ve noticed it before, you have no idea where it came from. You follow by kissing another scar, this one on his wrist, probably from sparring with Ser Cole. You raise yourself up on your tiptoes to peck one on his chest. As you lazily drag your hands across his taut muscles, you look up at him through your eyelashes.

Aemond follows your gaze until you dip behind his back. Though a pang thrums through your chest at the sheer number of them, you press your lips against each and every scar jagging across his back. You feel him tense each time your mouth ghosts over his skin. His head drops to the side, exposing his profile to you. Exposing his sapphire eye and the matching scar. You know he can’t see you, but his nostrils flare as if he can almost smell you. Something about him is animalistic, and it makes your breathing come in shallow pants.

You trail your fingertips across his side. His stare follows your every move. You place your hands on his biceps, kissing a scar on his collarbone and then one between his neck and the meat of his shoulder. As you do, you allow your hands to wind around the nape of his neck. You flick your eyes over to him, drinking in his soft expression for a moment before touching your lips to the scar over his eye. He leans into your embrace. You pause again, holding him for a second, soaking in his affection.

When you pull away, you find his eyes closed. He looks surprisingly refreshed, calm. His eyes finally blink open. You’ve never seen him so look so gentle. You offer a small smile, your palm cupping his cheek, thumb caressing the scar. His fingers curl possessively over your hand. He guides you onto the soft velvet of the bed. As you push yourself backward, he crawls over top of you. You watch your own fingertips as they trace over the striations in his muscles, flexed under his weight. Wisps of his long hair fall gracefully over his arms. He eases the strap of your nightgown over your shoulder.

Aemond lowers himself to kiss your shoulder. His mouth is warm and wet, and goosebumps raise on your skin in his wake. He tugs the nightgown down with him as he moves, giving attention to your collarbone, chest, the space in between your breasts. When he kisses your lower stomach, you arch and he slides a hand around your lower back. With expert skill, he trails one of his hands up your thigh, pushing the silk fabric up your leg and bunching it around your hips. He looks up at you, no semblance of his usual smirk, just admiration in his eyes. He hooks his palms around your thighs and lowers his mouth.

At the first swipe of his tongue, your head falls back onto the pillow. By the third, his long, slender fingers are sliding into your folds. As he pushes his way inside, you catch your lip between your teeth. You gasp when his fingers curl up inside your walls and his tongue dances around your clit. Your fist clutches onto the silk sheets by your head. Your hips start to move in time with his fingers. His grip on your thigh is firm and tight, almost painful. As you move against him, you feel a familiar knot start to form in your stomach. His fingers drive in and out of you, smooth and easy, covered in your wetness. Your hand latches onto his as you grasp for control. You’ve lost track of how many of Aemond’s fingers are in you now. Your breath grows ragged as it becomes difficult to breathe, each moment more unbearable than the last. You grip his fingers, pressing your head back against the pillow as you prepare for release.

He denies you. He detaches his lips from your clit and fingers from your pussy. You groan, glaring at him. He raises himself up on his knees, his head leaning back. Your anger evaporates at the sight of your wetness glistening on his chin and the smirk of his lips.

You watch with bated breath as Aemond removes his trousers. His knee hooks under your left thigh, pushing your leg open to make room for his hips. When he places his hands on either side of your head, you latch onto his forearms as if they were handles. He brushes your hair from your sweaty forehead before wrapping his fingers around your jaw. His thumb drags along your lips. You gasp for air, his gaze like dragonfire on your skin. Though he smiles softly for a moment, his expression fades into a wicked grin as he pushes inside you.

You’ve had him before. Several times. But this is different. The intimacy, the pressure, the deliberate way he shifts his hips into you. Most of all, the way he keeps his eyes steadily on you, unyielding and focused. You’ve never even realized how good your love could be. Most times, your eyes had been shut in pleasure. Now, watching how his face changes with every movement, you never want to close them again. His eyes darken right before he thrusts and soften when he pulls out.

You hike your legs, hooking your knees into the space between his rib cage and hip bones. He takes that as permission to speed up. His body drops to one elbow, his other hand threading through yours to pin your arm above your head. You curl your fingernails into his knuckles. He keeps his gaze on you, his breath quickening. Your moans get louder and louder and your hips buck against him. You feel that knot building, relishing the way it feels when he fills you up. Sweat drips down the back of your neck. Your eyes instinctively close, but Aemond taps his forehead against yours. When you open, he shakes his head.

“I want to see you.”

You nod, forcing a deep breath. His sapphire eye seems to glow in the darkened bedroom. Your free hand slides onto his shoulder, fingertips tugging at his skin. He growls in response and his eyebrows knit together. You fight to keep your eyes open, especially when his mouth pops open. He lowers his head toward you. Your gasps and moans sync up to pace one another. You inhale sharply as the knot in your stomach unfurls, your head tilting back and your body arching into Aemond’s hard figure. His groan in response is almost drowned out by the sound that escapes your mouth as your body shakes through your orgasm.

You can hardly catch your breath as Aemond continues to drill into you even after you’ve finished. His jaw clenches, a sign you’ve learned means he’s close. You wrench your hand free from his grasp above your head and place both of your open palms on his face. You again brush his scar with your thumb, whimpering at the soreness building below you. He immediately drops his forehead on yours, his body quivering as his warmth floods into you. He slows to a stop. You both freeze, your pants mixing.

Giddy with pleasure, you giggle and kiss your husband. He gives you a lazy one back. When you part, his droopy eyes open and the ghost of a smirk dances across his lips. He shakes his head and pecks the corner of your mouth before burying his head in your neck. Your arms wrap around him. His slide around your waist and up your back. His weight on top of your body feels good. You like holding him close while he’s in you. The closest that you could possibly be.

Aemond playfully nips at your neck before pulling away to flop on the bed beside you. He pulls the covers over your sweaty bodies. You snuggle closer to him, grinning like a fool. He shares your expression, threading his fingers through yours. He raises your knuckles to his lips and kisses them sweetly.

“I love you, Aemond. Just as you are,” you whisper, nudging his nose with yours.

He doesn’t say it back. But the way he pulls you closer, tucks his chin over your head, wraps his arms protectively around you. The way he falls asleep with you just like that, his eyepatch discarded and forgotten about. The way he’d given himself completely to you in the most vulnerable way possible. It had all been his way of showing you that he loves you, too.

tags: @kennafild @anukulee

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen fic #hotd fic #quill and quiver #spice

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hiii ❤️

Can you do a fic where fem!reader wants to try something new with jason so they switch places (jason sub)

A/n: I know I said I was only doing fluff but I was bored in class and this was requested in March, I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get to this, it is also not the only one from March :')

Also wasn't sure if you meant dom/sub dynamic or pegging so I hope I got it right lol

Warnings: Smut, sub!Jason dom!reader, riding, if I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You weren’t sure how you were gonna bring it up to him but you knew what you wanted

Jason was fairly vanilla. He liked to love you and make you feel good, receiving his own satisfaction in the end. But you wanted more.

You paced around your apartment, trying to think of what to say. You were so lost in thought you hadn’t even realized Jason coming in.

He saw you pacing and figured he’d come and help. He wrapped him arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug. Usually it worked, you only paced when you were thinking and he was like a weighted blanket.

“What’s going on?” He asked, tilting your head up to look at him.

You stated up at him for a moment before spewing out all these thoughts and eventually letting it slip what you really wanted.

Jason was nervous but he figured this meant a lot to you and he wanted to be a good boyfriend. You both had a good understanding of each other’s boundaries and it would be good to try something new, right.

You’d both stripped and now Jason was on the couch, biting his lip. Whether it was because you were naked and straddling his lap or because he was nervous you didn’t know.

His hands were tied behind his back using his belt, not tight, if he really wanted to he could take them off himself. But it was a step in the right direction, even if he could break out of them just knowing that he was tied like that had your body hot.

You rested your hands on his broad shoulders and lifted yourself up before slowly sinking yourself onto his hard cock. Jason’s eyes rolled back and a moan left him. It wasn’t forced, per se. Jason never was a quiet guy, he just grunted instead, so hearing him moan was a whole new experience.

“What was that for?” You had to ask, you’d fucked multiple times before but never did he moan.

Jason looked back to you, lidded eyes and a soft smile. “Well you moan, I figured if you wanted to switch positions I’d take a turn” filthy whore and yet still thinking of your pleasure. He was such a sweetheart and the best boyfriend you could ask for.

You kissed him and started bounces on him, getting off just on his moans falling onto your lips.

You pulled away and moved faster, rubbing your clit as you searched for that approaching high. Jason started thrusting up into you, wanting to help you.

You hesitated a moment, as much as you just wanted to cum you had a vision. And that vision was of Jason crying, dick all red and leaking because you wouldn’t let him cum, no not until he was sobbing would you give him the satisfaction of release.

You pulled off of him but kept rubbing yourself until your eyes rolled back and you came. Jason watched with stars in his eyes as you brought yourself over the edge.

“Jason,” you started as you calmed down, "who said you could cum?" Jason looked up at you with a small pout, just what you wanted.

You took you sweet time torturing him. Telling how good he was, getting him right on the edge and then pulling away and getting yourself off.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks now, his moans were laced with sobs, or his sobs were laced with moans. You asked him if he wanted to stop but he begged you to keep going.

You were bouncing up and down on his length again, your legs were getting tired so you got off of Jason and laid down beside him on the couch. "You wanna cum?" You asked, Jason eagerly nodded. "Earn it." And with that he crawled over you and pushed into your gummy walls, not letting a single heartbeat pass by before he starting bucking his hips into yours.

He was a dog in heat, eager to please and doing whatever he could to cum. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck as he sobbed out about how good it felt, how much he loved you.

He couldn't keep a rhythm, his mind was too far gone for him to be able to. It didn't matter. You were already coming undone at the seams and Jason could barely hold himself together as is.

"Fuck, you're so good, such a good boy." You praised, knowing it would fuel the little bit that Jason had left and bringing him to the high he'd been working towards this whole time.

His cock was buried deep inside of you, he couldn't care less, he could barely move. He rolled off of you but kept his arms wrapped tight around you, getting more comfortable on the couch with you.

He sniffled. "I love you." He mumbled. "I love you so much."

You smiled and kissed his temple. "I love you, too." You whispered. "You're the best, you know that?" Another kiss. "You're perfect." Jason smiled against you and fell asleep.

#metallica #metallica fanfiction #metallica imagines #metallica smut #metallica x reader #jason newsted #jason newsted smut #jason newsted x reader

[asylumdream]

Drawing project of my Hero Rosario (Nicknames Rosy or Ari) for every 10 levels I gain in Dragonfable-

Closeups and story under the cut

Rosario was from a poorer hunting family, just trying to get by. One winter was particularly harsh, and being the youngest mouth to feed… They saw the writing on the wall, and fled. Deciding that at least their memories of their family wouldn't get tainted. If they ran away themself there was a chance they wouldn't have been abandoned. They got spotted and picked up by a Guardian who had happened to be wandering about, and from that moment on was a kid of Falconreach through and through. They were thoroughly obssesed with books, burying themself in any they could get their hands on. They would spend days locked away in the library at the gaurdian tower pooring over history books, tactics books, magic books… they loved it. Their dayly routine was to wake up, go early to Cysero to beg him for any books he would sell them for their measly 3 coin weekly alownce (and some days he would have one he'd be willing to give up in exchange for a favor or two) then help serve breakfast in the messhall. After that they would jump head first back into their studies until they had to be guided away from their books for dinner. Then they would read until lights out. When they were old enough to venture outside the wall without supervision they would make the treck to warlic's tent to beg books off of him, and anyone else who'd be willing to spare some litterature for them. They became quite the shut in, so bad that they had no friends their age nor did they ever go outside save for the early monring. Their caretaker had had enough of it, and forced them to join the heros of falcon reach to 'Put all that brian power of yours to good use lad! You love your magicks so much? well learn to cast a spell out there!". And so kicked out they were, to face the wide open world of lore.

between doing random chores for the knights of the Pentaganol Knights and stealing the egg back from Drakath they are keen to keep up their studies…. But find that this whole 'adventureing' thing is kind of fun actually! Twilly isnt half bad company and will listen to them ramble on and on about magic theory without interupting them.

Their dragon egg has hatched! to their awe and amazment, an adorable little baby is introduced to the world. they name the dragon 'Sweetpea' after the flowers it enjoys burning to a crisp while it sneezes. And with Sweetpea born Rosario is off to the races, spesifically the race against Sepulchure to secure the elemental orbs and prevent his usage of them. They've heard of the orbs before and know the history and Awesome Power they hold- and though Rosario can't fathom why Sepulchure wants them it can't be for anything good.

With Sweetpea at their heal Rosario goes to convince anyone with any access to the orbs to help them keep the orbs safe- The Sandsea was horrible, they were picking sand out of there armor for weeks, but at least zhoom is a reasonable person with a respectable work ethic. Then he offers to teach them to become a ranger- To Teach Them??? Say no more. Rosario has always been a quick study, and having been banned from their library for the foreseeable future the next best thing is to get taught in the real world. At every opportunity then on they try and learn all that they can, trying to find this paladin they've heard of… And it turns out that paladin shares their love of clever puns and wordplay! Useing light magic to kill undead while learning the ways of a paladin (and necromancer, and deathknight) is a dream for them, and Artix makes surprisingly good company! He isn't patient enough for their lectures on the mechanics of magics, but at least he's polite to nod along. They find they dont mind it too much.

Being a veracious learner, is it any wonder they took to soulweaving like a duck to water? No mater their misgivings about Tomix's… Friend… They are honored to be taught a whole new skill they've never even Heard of before. Not to mention… It's fun being the one teasing instead of the one being teased for once- and Tomix is a bit of an easy target. The whole endeavor, as stressful as managing greed was, was a much needed break after the…. water orb….

Things were good! They had secured the orbs and backtracked to learn the ways of the Pirate and Ninja! things were looking up! Then Sepulchure got the orbs anyways. Fine! Sure! They'll deal with it! So they do. And it's great! the world is saved and they can rest! Not ten days later fire imps attack Falconreach with refugees pooring in from portals and Warlic is nowhere to be found but Fine! Sure! They'll deal with it! So they do. The spell that this Jaania was under… it is as facinating as it is terrifying to them, and they greet the girl who was broken out- a spite fire, but they feel a kindered spirit in her. They want to pull her aside and explain everything that's happened so far, give her the complete information they know they'd crave in her position- but then the professor is ushering them all to a grand battle without so much as a 'how do you do'. Wargoth by Rosario's observation seems to create mana when casting, rather then destroy it. So if they can provoke him to cast fast enough, they are sure they could burn him out, the only problem is the massive amount of free floating mana that would create- it would wipe out half the planet for sure. But they've not researched magicks their whole life for nothing, they know of and even collect the seeds of a spicies of plant that rapidly absorbs mana when it grows, if they can just- But no, the professor has a Better Idea. Fine! Sure! They'll deal with it. They sure hope their old caretaker is proud of how accommodating and understanding they are being. And they defeat Wargoth, with much collateral damage and close calls- but at least Warlic is back together and now they can focus on the Important Things of rebuilding after Sepulchure and this damage- as well as meeting with and learning from the people who fled from Wargoth's advancments. Sweetpea is safe and sound and all is-…

#dragonfable #df hero #dfanart #art #my art #Im fairly proud of how these turned out #We shall see how the next 5 illustrations go and how Rosario's character shakes out #Right now theyre very Twilight Sparkle!My little Pony Friendship is Magic-esque #Not great at comunicating and a bit of a know it all #Strong sense of justice and deep love for the mechanics of the natrual world

[watchoutforthefanfics]

Ticking Love Bomb (Part Eight) || Eleventh Doctor × gn! Reader

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...

Taglist: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @solitairemvp @idontevenknowwth @this-is-me-lolol @rokosbasalisk @solarbxby @thestrals-and-firewiskey @followingthefanfiction @stevenknightmarc @ahkmenrami @yellowsubiesdance @toobusymakingmyownreality @crowleythesexydemon

Summary: Your adventure with the Doctor and the Ponds takes a harsh turn when it seems you're targeted with a potion. A love potion, specifically the type where you fall in love with whoever's eyes you met first after "drinking" it. But what if you're already in love with him?

TWS: aliens, space, references of guns, smoke, unrequited love (but not really), self sacrificial attitudes, and purely oblivious people. Also, just a touch of angst (typical of a love confession).

[[A/N: so sorry about the wait, and I finally fixed the taglist!!! My bad for those who asked to be tagged and haven't been. Thanks for reading :)))]]

Before you could even blink, you hear the hiss of a needle prick your skin. It felt a little like heat travelling through your veins, passing through your limbs. Everything tingled for a moment before succumbing to a sort of numbness you'd kind of known by now.

Your legs were weak, or whatever they injected you with (again) was making your limbs heavy -the guiding force of the creature was the only thing that kept you standing.

In the back of your head, you could see the blur of grey passing your eyes. It was reminiscent of the walls from before, but you couldn't really see them. Not fully.

Your brain was still so fuzzy, almost in the same way with the roses, you couldn't quite notice anything around you. All you felt where the creature's hands on your shoulders, pushing you forward as your feet stumbled to match his pace.

Was he even walking? You weren't entirely sure he had feet.

"Y/N!" a voice interrupted your haze, Amy, you suddenly recognized, "-thank god, you're alive."

You slurred just a little, trying to look at her -everything was so blurry, "Amy...?"

"Are you okay?" she suddenly questioned, and you saw a blur of red beside you, "-Y/N, are you-"

"Stay away from the hostage," the creature's voice rang out through the air, "-Headmistress only requested this one."

"Hey, no," she sounded more distant -farther away, "-Rory, let me go-"

Then it all faded to quiet, the only noise being the lowest sort of rumble of the ship. It almost sounded mechanical, like maybe the engine, or some of its inner workings. You didn't really know that much about spaceships at all, other than what the Doctor had described to you. But at their core they had to be similar to a car right? They had an engine-

You almost relaxed into the noise, it was almost calming, when everything was so blurry and uncertain. You suppose that's why you immediately heard the opening of a door.

It was similar to when they opened the door that let the Doctor, Amy, and Rory out. A slow sort of hiss almost. In your delirious state, you couldn't tell if it was degrading on your ears -everything sounded so stuffy.

"Ah, here are our guests," a voice chimed, nearly melodic (you recognized it to be the voice over the intercom system). You felt a little like you were floating, as you tried languidly blinking to clear your surroundings -the Doctor was here.

Head swimming, your eyes smoothed across the room -hitching briefly on a woman with high hair and a pleasant sort of blue skin. Somehow, in your delirious mind, you saw her as pretty. Blinking, you moved further and caught the green you'd been looking for. (Even then, something in you relaxed.)

Doctor, Doctor, Doctor-

His eyes flicked up and down you a few times, taking you in -eyes holding on to the cuffs where you could see the cusps of a bruise forming underneath them (if you focused enough). Without a breath, the creature aimed the needle at your skin again -your tongue felt like cotton in your mouth.

Something in his jaw tightened.

"Doctor, don't hesitate to greet them on my behalf," she continued, rather casually, "-This is General Kilape of our fleet, I do hope the two of you get along, and well... you're much familiar with the human, aren't you?"

Doctor didn't respond to her, instead turning back to face her accusingly, "Why have you brought them into this? Is this not about me?"

"It is," the woman (who you still had no name for) clarified, "-Doctor, haven't you ever heard of something called collateral?"

His lips flattened into a straight line -sharp and deadly.

"What? Do you believe that I would just trust you?" She hummed, laughing, "-Doctor don't be silly, having them gives you two options-"

You blearily blinked, eyes detailing the stitching of his jacket and the hair at the nape of his neck. You kind of wanted the jacket, it probably smelt really good -like him. You wanted to smell like him-

"One," she echoed, eyes pointedly glaring at the doctor -before motioning for the creature (Kilape) to push you forward. Your head spun, and you felt the drag of green eyes on you -watching as everything on your body seemed to sink (it was all so heavy), "-you refuse our offer, and we kill them-"

"You wouldn't dare," he snapped back -eyes cold and something hardening in them that you had seen maybe once or twice before.

"-and use your grief, angry grief as the legends go, to our betterment, or two-"

Your eyes were getting so heavy.

She barely took a pause, "-you cooperate, and they are returned to your loving embrace. Truly, how inspiring."

The Doctor didn't say anything then, maybe deciding exactly what he wanted to. His eyes kept flicking to you, and the slight lull of your head -the way Kilape was holding you forward made your whole body feel limp. His lips fell into a frown, something softer passing through his eyes.

He loves me. It was still so hard to believe.

"Okay," his voice was quieter, less forceful, "-okay. Just give them to me, give them to me safely and I'll... I'll do as you wish."

"Wow," she tsked, tapping her fingers along her desk, "-the great Doctor, at the will of a human. You always were weak to your companions, weren't you?"

The Doctor's mouth flattened into a thin line.

"A fickle thing like love bringing him to his knees," she continued, carefully and you saw the Doctor stiffen -it made something in your stomach swirl (don't be upset, I love you, don't be upset), "-So disappointing."

You were barely awake, but you knew something was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. You weren't worth the universe, but the words were stuck in your throat. It was pounding in your head, the fate of it all, and he wanted to save you.

"General."

Before you could even focus on her words, you were thrown to the ground. Cold metal stinging against your skin, you think you hit your head. It made your head rattle a little, but still somehow made you a little more aware. Pushing yourself up on your forearms, your eyes skimming along the room -almost searching.

Hearing a gentle buzz, you felt the cuffs snap off your wrists.

Hands guiding you up, you felt warmth and that familiar fuzz of books flickering through your nose. Just as he sat you up, one hand on your shoulder and the other framing your face, you blinked at him slowly. Eyes flicking along his face, taking him in, you could do that now. He loved you, and you loved him. Wow-

Before you could say anything, he pulled you to his chest and stood -your knees wobbled in place but he neatly held you up. How long did this thing last?

"They stay with me," he spoke, icy, "-If any of you touch them, or my other companions for that matter, you are most certain to see the wrath that you are so desperate to. Understood?"

The woman was unmoved, "As long as you cooperate, Timelord, no issues will arise."

You were slowly starting to blink away the fuzz in your brain -your surroundings becoming clearer and voices less stuffy. You could feel the ground beneath your feet, and the strange sort of warmth of his body against yours (alien, right). Words were on the cusp of your tongue, rejection (you can't do this, not for just me).

"I will call on you again, Doctor," she hummed (you still didn't know her name, actually), and motioned for Kilape to guide the two of you out of the room.

He dutifully did so.

The Doctor was moving you gently, carefully, like perhaps you would break. Your mind was clearing up substantially at this point, but your body hadn't had the same effect. Your legs still felt weak, and you could only really feel the scratch of his coat against your skin -it grounded you, just like the mechanical hum had done before.

"Doctor?" You questioned, tone more sturdy -less slurred.

He didn't say anything, neatly pulling you onto a bench. Or a chair, it was actually kind of weird. You weren't sure what-

The Doctor threw the thoughts out of your head, gently grabbing your wrists -bruises now on full display. His fingertips were careful and eyes tediously examining every inch; they fanned over the bruise, but not enough to hurt. Just a gentle sort of brush. (It made your heart stutter in your chest.)

"Does it hurt?" He asked, tone quiet and gentle but something a little with an edge deep under it all (maybe because you were hurt).

You pursed your lips, responding slowly, "Only when you put pressure on it. Like... Like normal bruises."

He hummed, looking over it carefully before his eyes flicked back to yours as if he was trying to judge if you were lying. He probably could, if you were. His green eyes dipped along your features (softening slightly) -examining, a little like you were a fascinating rock and a little like you might be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Something in your stomach swirled. God, he loves me.

"And the injections?" The Doctor quickly continued, trying to scan your skin, "-Where were they?"

"Uh, in my neck," you answered -obediently, "-somewhere close to the hinge of my jaw, I think."

He frowned a little, fingertips gently caressing your jaw -ever so careful, "Look up for me, yes?"

Your brain felt a little like it was on autopilot, but you did as asked. The Doctor seemed to pause for a moment, before gently moving your head slightly to the left -you mindlessly felt a sting, assumedly where the needles had been pressed into your skin.

His other hand moved to smooth along your skin -fingers trailing to the edge of the wound. You could feel it now, like maybe you just hadn't thought about it enough to realize it existed.

"Looks alright," he commented, before pulling your face back down to match his, "-I'd much prefer better than alright, but I suppose we're not really in a place for that, are we?"

You laughed a little, still a little dizzy from the casual closeness -especially now that you knew he loved you. God, he loves you.

"Not really," you replied, smiling just a little.

The Doctor's eyes twinkled in that familiar sort of way then, lips turning up into a grin -the kind that made your head spin. Your eyes naturally flickered along his face -just absorbing him for a spare moment.

It was almost like there wasn't any danger, like he wasn't choosing you over-

"Doctor," you spoke -suddenly more serious, "-what are you doing?"

"Well," he paused, rolling the thought around in his head -a little cheerfully, "-I'm always doing lots of things, you know that, my dearest Y/N. But, for the sake of clarity, what are we talking about in particular?"

"Doctor, I'm not..." you waited a moment, eyes falling all over his face (love, love, love), "-You're supposed to save the world. Not... not just me."

His lips fell into a frown.

"Doctor, all of this," you motioned, and maybe your eyes were burning a little bit, "-you need to stop it. It's people you're talking about, tons of people, and I'm just... I'm just me-"

"Stop, stop saying that," he interrupted you, gently bringing a hand to cradle your face -guide your eyes to his, "-'just you'? You are so much more than... than just, Y/N."

His words faltered off, and one of his hands curled a trail behind your hair -green eyes focused on you so gently that you felt a little like you might've swayed in place if you were standing.

"Human beings are extraordinary," the Doctor continued then, looking at you a little like you were something very precious, "-what you overcome, your passions, your flaws, your dreams, your hopes, and your feelings-"

You bit at your lip, eyes a little foggy.

"Humanity is quite the feat, believe me, but you? My darling Y/N-" his thumb gently brushing along your cheekbone, "-you're... you. One of kind that I'm so grateful to know in all my years-"

"Doctor," you tried to object, "-I believe you, I do. But you can't just give up."

The Doctor's eyes brushed along you.

"Those people, I don't know if you could call them people I guess," you continued, "-they're worth so much more. They're all one of a kind."

His lips pulled into a frown, but he didn't speak.

"You save people," you repeated, braving a hand forward on his face, "-don't be a prick and choose favorites."

He laughed a little then, and you realized it was a little wet -teary. It was quiet then for a moment, like he was trying to work up what he wanted to say.

"I can't lose you."

You pressed your lips together, trying to smile lightly and fight back tears. You couldn't do this if you cried, you couldn't leave him. He leaned into your hand then, connecting his own around your wrist.

You whispered out, smiling bittersweetly, "And I can't let you do this."

He frowned again.

"So, do it," you hummed, combing back his hair gently, "-save them. Even if it puts me in danger-"

"Y/N, I can't-"

"You don't have a choice," you stressed, "-I know you think you are that legend but you're not anymore. You save them, you always save them."

"What about you?" He questioned, "-Am I not supposed to save you?"

You smiled then, light and airy, ignoring the tears smoothing down your cheeks.

"Oh, Doctor," you let out a laugh, "-you already have."

#eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who #gender neutral y/n #a bit angsty but #it fixes itself #is really sad kinda so #unrequited love but not really #use of y/n #watchoutwriting #ticking love bomb

[shuenkio]

Break 💔 up ? | OT7

Paring: Enha x male!reader

Genre: soft angst, fluff, crack, obsessed

Cw: nothing or?

Summary: You want to break up with them but-

Non proof read ×

Crd to all pics&dividers

Lack of perfect words.

Lhs: The moment you said, you wanted to break up with him, he went silent. Instead of speaking, he closes the distance between you into a small gap, eye piercing sharply at you before pinning you against the wall.

"You can't break up with me without any reason mn, now tell me is there something behind it?" His gaze went dark, as he looked at you like you were just committing a crime.

"I— I can't handle you anymore you're just too possessive I wanna take a break," you said, with sweat soaking your forehead and dripping down to your cheeks. You should be brave to make this decision for your good but why did you suddenly feel so numb like this?

"Sit on my lap, it's not my fault you're drop-dead gorgeous, not only you feel better but also pleasure" He smirked, cupping both of your cheeks, pressed his lip against you let the tension take a turn.

"Try to leave me again, I'll make sure you won't find anyone who could make you feel like I do!"

Pjs: The man would be speechless on the spot after you said you wanted to break up with him. What's not good enough about him? He's overthinking if he doing something wrong, something is not right for you but as he dips down into his mind, he can't seem to find any clue what's wrong with himself. Having no answer, He uttered with his shaky voice, asked you why.

"I fall out of love I don't feel the same way as before Jay, I don't know what to do besides this decision" Your tears begin to break down, shattered from your eyes as they pour every drop into the floor. Jay saw you break down, his heart broken into pieces as he immediately went to pull you into his tight embrace. Let you pour out all of your sadness in his chest.

"There's always a solution, I know it's not right to force you to be still in our relationship but— please give me a chance I swear I'll make everything even better for us"

Sjy: Not only did tears appear on his face, but he would also drop down to his knee buried his face in his palm after you said it was not a joke. You thought he would just be unable to speak however seeing him being like this, stunned you. You want to comfort him, telling the truth why you want to path away from him. But your mind went blank at the moment, you feel like he's not the only one who's hurting, and seeing him shattered makes you want to swallow all your words back. You lean down slowly to his level and press a gentle kiss on his forehead before wrapping your hand around his.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry" you whisper to his ear. He responds with his hands wrapped over your small waist, snuggling his face on the crooked of your neck.

"Don't leave me!! Please don't I just can't let you go"

Psh: At first, he would give you a silent treatment. He looks down at his feet, holding back his tears, stopping his rushing emotion. He leaves you alone without any words, not even asking why you want to break up with him, not even a simple "why"

You let out a heavy sigh, regret at what you've just done but nothing crosses your mind to stop him from leaving, you feel a part of you think, he deserves someone better than you, who's prettier, more socialized, and talkative than you. You also thought that two introverts in a relationship would be nothing other than Boring.

Late at night after everything had happened, someone came banging at your door very loudly. You went to open up and revealed a friend of Sunghoon holding him, he was wasted at the sight, which make you feel a ping of guilt washing over you.

You take Sunghoon in, still acting as a couple, before saying goodbye and thanks his friends for taking him home. You put him down on the couch gently, take off his shoe and jacket tuck it to the side.

His face is reddened, and tipsy, probably from all the alcohol he's pouring down to his throat because of you. You slowly pressed your hand on his face, carelessly on it softly. Cupping his cheeks your tears break down without you even notice.

Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist pull you down on the couch with him, holding you close to his chest. His hot breath hit your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine with a mix of sadness and nostalgia. His warmness, his hug, and his sweet gesture toward you can't seem to leave your mind. As you regret breaking up with him for your stupid reason this morning.

"Don't speak... We'll never break up and never will, I know what's on your mind mn, you're perfect to me I love you"

Ksn: Your words feel too unreal for him to take. He would question you again and again with his forcing smile, holding onto your hand tight, you then explained why you wanted to break up. He instantly becomes a cry river, he'll cry while smiling like a manic at some point because everything just feels right from the beginning but now you want a break it's like he had been fooled by you.

His face went swollen red from all the crying and sobbing, he didn't want to let you go this easily, after all the memories both you made together. Never, he'll do anything in his power to keep you beside him, which he's turning into his new side that you've never known before.

"Being the sweetest is not enough for you mn? Then you shall see my other side, I promise you'll never leave me again! Hm?" He hums under his breath, with an unexpectedly stern deep voice. As your body goosebumps, gulping down back your saliva unable to make a sound.

"I- I'm sorry I... Don't know anymore"

"I'll take care of it, if you get bored of my playful side, I'll show you my new side, promise to don't break up with me again alright? I'm drowning in you already!"

Yjw: He rarely cries. Even after you said you wanted to break up with him, He eventually left you alone, keeping you hanging without an answer. You try and try to give him a reasonable explanation, but in return he just stares at you emotionless, buying you unnecessary gifts, and gives you free kisses & hugs out of the blue. As a result, you gave up and just accepted your fate, even though your break-up reason is kinda silly.

On one fine day, you decide to play it harder, so maybe he'll open his ear to listen to you, by threatening him that, if he continues to ignore you, you'll leave the place.

"Try another step baby boy! I bet you'd crawl back to me again~"

And—

"I do that on purpose mn so that you won't break up with me, yoi love me, I love yoi, and we're in love why should we break up?"

And he knows all along, you just want to break up with him because he forgot your birthday, and he's ignored you because he knows he's wrong and couldn't apologize probably.

Nsr: He didn't react to your words, everything that you just said was not serious for him. Similar to Jungwon, he's nonchalant. He shrugged it off, just doing his daily routine normally as if his relationship with you was about to tear apart. And that's also one of the reasons you wanted to break up with him, you can't keep up with his attitude and behavior. Someday he's sweet, someday he's dry he's like a robot.

However, you and him still living together, in your shared apartment. One day when he's about to go to work, usually he would press a goodbye kiss on your cheeks before moving forward. Today was different, after he placed a kiss on your cheeks, you wiped it away aggressively, not enjoying his sweet gesture anymore, which made him turn his head toward you slowly, in a way that made you feel something bad was going to happen, nevertheless, his gaze remains the same.

"Did you just wipe my kiss off?"

"So? I said I wanted to break up with you, why are you acting like I just spit nonsense thing?"

"There's no reason for you to leave me, you'll need me anyway I'm doing your work myself"

"I'm so tired of you!! We're breaking up no matter what!"

"Try it, lol you can't even go a day without my presence, now go to sleep if you're tired of me"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ I did not realize that I write Sunghoon longer than the other 🫣

#enhypen #enhypen x male reader #enha x you #enhypen scenarios #enha fluff #enha x male reader #enha imagines #kpop x male reader #enha scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enha fanfic #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen crack

[deunmiu-dessie]

"george, i will stand with you between the heavens and the earth. i will tell you where you are. do. you. love. me?"

#I LOVE YOU #FROM THE MO- #FROM THE MOMENT I SAW YOU TRYING TO GO OVER THAT WALL #I HAVE LOVED YOU DESPERATELY #I CANNOT BEATHE WHEN YOU ARE NOT NEAR #MY HEART CALLS YOUR NAME #RAHHHHHHHH #IMAGINE RETIRED MISSION WORE JOHN WHO LITERALLY FEELS LOST WITHIN HIS MIND #WITH HORRIBLE NIGHTMARES AND ALL THAT #AND THIS WOMAN WHO JUST COMES INTO HIS LIFE AND MAKES IT ALL SUNSHINE AND RAINBOWS #BUT THAT SCARES HIM #AND HE KEEPS AWAY FROM HER BUT HE LOVES HER SO MUCH #AND THEN SHE FINALLY CONFRONTS HIM LIKE #AND YALL #REWATCHING QUEEN CHAROLETTE #AND OMFG #THIS BUT MAKE IT MODERN AND #RETIRED #captain john price x reader #call of duty #captain price #call of duty modern warfare

[allthebestnamesweretaken]

Bridgerton Rankings no one asked for:

1. George & Charlotte - she said “I will stand with you between the heavens and the earth, I will tell you where you are” and I haven’t been the same since

2. Kate and Anthony - talk about YEARNING!!! Someone teach the men how to yearn again, this season can be apart of the course

3. Lady Danbury and Lord Ledger - was he a bit old? Yes. Do I still ship it bc someone finally saw her?? Also yes

4. Lord and Lady Bridgerton- we didn’t get to see them, but the way she still loves him so deeply tells me everything I need to know about their relationship

*literally everyone on the cast list including extras*

-10000000000. Daphne and Simon - she literally SAd him and not enough people talk about it

I’m not a big fan of what’s coming next season, but Colin Bridgerton better be BEGGING ON HIS KNEES for Miss Penelope Featherington! 😤

#bridgerton #kanthony #queen charlotte #queen charlotte bridgerton #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #lady danbury #george x charlotte #I will stand with you between the heavens and the earth #I will tell you where you are do you love me?!? #I love you!! from the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall I have loved you desperately #George and Charlotte are my standard #kate x anthony #I feel bad for Edwina though #imagine growing up with kanthony as your parents #I hate Daphne but I’ll still tag them #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #I barely remember the rest of them tbh🤣 #penelope featherington

[yawnderu]

Currently thinking about neighbor!Simon with a sweet thing who keeps shamelessly flirting with him.

Ghost, the soldier who has been basing his life in self-control and discipline, knocked down a peg or two by his younger neighbor. He doesn't even respond to the flirting, simply replying with a grunt or a "thanks" so quiet you can barely even hear it before he disappears into his house.

Neighbor!Simon, who initially moved to your quiet neighborhood for some peace and quiet— and he gets just that, with one glaring exception.

Neighbor!Simon, who is forced to listen to your moans and whines as you bounce up and down a dildo, filthy nonsense escaping your lips whenever it hits a sensitive spot.

Neighbor!Simon, who seemed amused about it at first and ignored it, but after a few times started feeling his jeans tighten up.

Neighbor!Simon, who cups his throbbing boner over his jeans, trying his best to stop himself from jerking off, yet your whiny moans are taking away any semblance of self-respect he has.

Neighbor!Simon, who timed his strokes with the sounds of your squelching cunt, imagining it's him going in and out of you.

Neighbor!Simon, who pathetically came all over his stomach when you moaned out his name, filthy and overly loud words leaving your lips because you know he can hear you.

Neighbor!Simon, who since then was less of a Ghost in his own neighborhood, actually trying to reply to your attempts at making conversation with him.

Neighbor!Simon, who told you one of his awful dad jokes just to hear the loudest sigh ever, the corners of his lips threatening to tug up at your reaction.

Neighbor!Simon, who eventually started tagging along for anything you did— Grocery shopping? Paying bills? Going to the park? Shopping? He's coming with you, claiming there's lots of creeps around.

Neighbor!Simon, who accepted your offers for dinner, looking at you moving around the kitchen and helping you, imagining you're his pretty little wife.

Neighbor!Simon, who got enough courage to kiss you after being 100% sure you were interested in him.

Neighbor!Simon, who couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face when during one of your make out sessions, you took him to your bedroom.

Neighbor!Simon, who was a groaning mess underneath you as you rode him, calloused hands holding onto your hips with a bruising grip.

'' 'S what you wanted all along, love?'' He manages to grunt out between his deep groans and moans, hypnotized by the way your tits bounce while your tight cunt takes all of him.

''Since I first saw you.'' You reply with honesty, leg muscles tired from riding him, but his thick cock feels way too good to even think about stopping.

''Good girl.'' He praises, eyes closing as his hips start to thrust up, meeting you halfway while you bounce on his cock, angling up your ass so he hits a more sensitive spot that has you moaning on top of him, his grip on your hips going to your ass while he moves your smaller body up and down his cock, thrusts getting rougher while you finally collapse on top of him.

''Cum inside.'' His hips falter for a moment as he looks at you with raised eyebrows, your hushed confirmation of being on birth control enough to keep him going even harder, driving himself into your cunt at an unlawful pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusted deeply, the room filled with the smell of sex, walls bouncing with the sounds of your combined desperate moans as he shoved himself as deep as he could, filling your womb with his thick, fertile cum. It doesn't matter if you're on birth control, his seed is much stronger.

Husband!Simon, who got to come home from deployment to his missus, stomach swollen with his baby.

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #ghost #ghost smut #mw2 smut #breeding k1nk #breeding kink go brrrr #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #neighbor!ghost #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost

[ciaoteamo]

Milk and Water (Pt. I)

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: One of the newest residents’ very first doppelgänger comes in, trying to sway you into to letting them in. Will you..?

pt.II

art credit (twt: loafuu_chii)

warning: 18+ content

“…what’s the story behind your um… ears(?)” You ask the doppelgänger before you. It was a clone of one of your favorite neighbors actually, her name was Maria.

A woman around your age that you became really close friends with over the few months of you working here.

“@&! !$?&” The doppelgänger let out a series of sounds.

“right, so give me one second” You press the bright red button next to the window and the steel blinds shut with a blaring alarm sound.

You call D.D.D. and they clean up their mess per usual. You once again, you were just thankful you didn’t have to work on that side of the glass.

You check your wrist watch, and happily sigh at the fact that you only had one more hour left to work.

“ mmm, someone’s eager to go home i see” A familiar voice speaks up.

“oh, Mr. Francis” You give the man a polite grin. He gave you a sly one in return. You knew it wasn’t him off the bat. Francis was usually shy towards you, making you want to tease him into blushing whenever you saw him.

Well, you suppose you could kill two birds with one stone. Flirt with the doppelgänger of your crush, and have some entertainment.

“how are you pretty girl” He asks, sliding an I.D. and sheet through the slot.

You examine the documents and identification and beam a smile up at him.

“the date on the I.D. is a little expired hun” You declare. He lets out a small chuckle and leans a little toward the glass.

“mmm, been busy with the milk business, love. must’ve slipped my mind to renew it” He replied. His eyes were low but he still held his sly grin. You leaned back in your chair, with a bored look on your face.

“you’re not like my Francis” You huff and tilt your head with a disappointed look.

His grin faltered and he stepped closer. His breathing had quickened a bit and he took off his hat. “who knows, i could be better” He suggests.

Now that his confidence had depleted a little, you were growing bored of him. You checked the time again and you had 45 minutes left.

“well i’ve gotta get you moving now. it was nice to see such a handsome face though, so thank you” You beam and reach for the button

“you don’t want to do this, trust me” He states with a warning tone. This wasn’t unusual, getting threats after realizing they’re doppelgängers, but being that this one was this aware… they must be evolving.

“and why would i trust you?” You ask out of curiosity.

“i mean look at me” He smirks, one arm leaned against the top of the window. His irises turned from their chocolate brown and into an empty pure white.

“hm” You nod and press the button.

“(Y/N)!” He roared with what you assume was his fist banging the glass.

You call D.D.D. and wait for them to clean their mess, again.

The steel blind begins to lift and you sit back in your seat, checking your watch again but noticed the new pink lighting that shone in.

You furrow your eyebrows and look up in horror as you see blood streaks on the window in thick, and dripping amounts. You jump out of your chair and put your back against the wall.

About 5 D.D.D. workers were piled up, bloody and battered in the corner of the room, and there the doppelgänger was.

Staring at you.

His eyes were low, his shirt was torn, revealing his pecs and the start of his abdomen. He was panting with his (surprisingly still) neat hair and an almost psychotic expression.

“oh no…” He starts with a laugh, still breathing heavily.

“what did you do..?” You cover your mouth with your hand.

“it’s what you did. you got me all riled up.”

He looks down for a brief moment and you swear you hear a zip. He holds his tie and the end of his tattered shirt in his mouth and looks up at you with knitted eyebrows.

His breath fogging up the window as he asks you. Looking like a poor starving puppy. “will you let me in now…? I need your help…” He slightly groaned.

“…what. the. fuck.”

#milkman #milkman x reader #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #fem dom reader #thats not my neighbor #milkman smut #milk the man

[fairy-hub]

‘𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬’

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: size kink, teasing/mocking/encouragement/light degradation, toji bites you once, daddy/mama/princess, toji is very cocky with how you're boosting his ego, big dick toji struggling to get all of his cock in you, pain kink, choking, squirting, mind break, restriction but toji uses his size and weight to do so, manhandling, very light objectification, cock drunk!reader, pussy drunk!toji

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Toji getting turned on by how small the reader is compared to him and then fucking them senseless?

Pinning your wrists above your head with one large, calloused hand. "Your sloppy little cunt is so beautiful takin' my cock. I knew she would be the moment I saw you." His thick cock stretching your sloppy sensitive cunt loose is already overwhelmingly after he just put it in.

"So fuckin' short, the way I can bend you in two and fuck you stupid. Nnng!" Toji keeps his groans low trying to hear you whine.

Twisting your hips, gliding your tight cunt on his cock. You can feel the soft ridge line of his cockhead tugging on your tight cunt. He's about to slip out when Toji rocks his hips forward, stroking your sweet spot, and reaching too deep.

Your toes curl, eyes rolling back, crying from the intensity. Toji scoffs, "I've just started lil mama n' you're strugglin' to take my fat cock already." Letting go of your wrists, sinking his thick fingers into your squishy hips’ crease. "Pitiful crybaby, aren't ya?" He rocks his hips forward, his well-defined abs clenching.

He groans, getting you off with the raspy sound. Each taunt, moan, and tremble of his large muscular body pushes you to take more from Toji. You can't get enough of overwhelming him with your cunt. Ignore the impending sense of breaking in his hands.

Toji could fuck your cunt into a mindless sleepy mess with your cunt gaping, dripping cum. You'll be sore, wanting more when wake up. "Can't help it, you're so big!" You can see his ego swell with his growing cocky smirk.

He lifts your hips off the bed. "Lil mama that was just half.” Thrusting forward, his balls heat your ass. Your eyes widen, jaw drops, digging your nails into his hard pecs. Scratching his chest, leaving pink lines leading towards his well-defined abs.

You whine in disbelief. "Daddy!" You can feel him beneath your belly button. Is he really that deep? “Too full! Too nnngg! Can't! Gonna break!" Toji roughly chokes you, lifting you off the bed and holding you upright.

You're a cock drunk flesh-light from how he roughly bounces you on his cock. Shifting his body, pressing your back to the wall, pinning you by your hip and neck. Your eyes roll back when your clit brushes his navel.

His large thumb under your chin forces you to look up at him. "You were too tight for me to get that last inch innnnn!" Clenching him, Toji shutters, closing his head, dropping his head to kiss you.

Splaying your fingers on his thick pecs and hard abs, feeling the latter flex with each thrust. You can't wiggle away from any of his thrusts, he's too big and strong. Breaking the kiss, loosening the grasp on your neck.

Crooning, "Such a tiny slut takin' all of my cock so well. And here you were whining it's too much." Dropping his hand to your hip, sinking his fingers into the taking the full brutal force of head rough hit from his cock.

Drowning you in an intense pleasure bordering on painful. "Is it! NNn" Is all you can manage, getting off on how small you feel in comparison to him. Toji is looming over you, pinning you to the wall. Bullying your squirting cunt with his fat veiny cock.

"Fuck lil princess your cunt is gushing drenching my balls n' making such a mess." Toji glides his cock out with a loud squelch. Firmly holding you to the wall by your squishy hips, dipping his head between your thighs.

Toji groans stuffing his face into your dripping cunt. Gliding his tongue into your sensitive sloppy cunt. “You taste so fuckin’ good mama.” Sucking on your clit, groaning, your toes curling from the sweet vibration.

Slipping his tongue into you, curling it, stroking your sweet spot. Squirming, his arms flex restricting your hips. You were going to feel him long after he went back to his apartment. "Wanna cum!" It drives you wild how you can feel him smirking into your cunt.

Your neediness and easily manhandled stature stroking his ego. "Greedy whore." Biting your thigh, close to your fat cunt. Sucking harshly, biting down hard when he pulls away. Crying, "Please!" He lets go, kissing the throbbing bite.

Pulling you off the wall, throwing you onto your bed face down. Grabbing your hips, "Hmm won't let up easily you're too damn short. Fuck you look so damn breakable, makes me want to ruin ya more." Stuffing a pillow beneath your body.

Lining his cock up, gliding it between your puffy wet lips. "Nnn the things you're makin' me feel princess. Don't get mad at me if ya can't walk after this." Rocking his hips forward, he fails to get the last couple of inches in on the first thrust.

"Wanna make your too tight cunt take my fat cock until she's gapin', drippin' cum." Hunching over you, grabbing your hair, yanking your head back. Using his weight in his thrust.

His large body stifles the lurch forward your body should have taken. "Hnn it's so damn easy to pin you down and fuck you. It's not even fair to your poor little cunt is it?" This angle adds more pressure, each stroke gliding over your sweet spot making you forget your name. And everything else but Toji.

He groans, "How is ya getting tighter lil princess? Fuck ya gonna cum again so easily? Am I just that good? Ya love my cock that much you wanna soak me again?"

oreo-creampie’s m.list

#jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #toji #jjk toji #dilf toji #daddy toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #toji x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x you

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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