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!
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Himbo Next Door
Pairings: Tara Carpenter x gn! Reader
Summary: you met Tara in the elevator your apartment and you two awkwardly hit it off. You begin to form a situationship with her, but Sam disapproves of you.
Warnings: Scream levels of violence, Pitbull Sam
Word Count: 5.5k
AN: this was from a request and I kind of expanded on it. I hope you enjoy it and if theres anything I need to change, let me know! If anyone has some requests, also let me know!
This is my first time writing a himbo reader, so im sorry that it’s not the best in that regard
Rain pattered against the quiet apartment complex as you rushed into the building, holding a pizza box. It had been a nice, beautiful day outside, but Mother Nature decided to flip on a dime. And, of course, you wore a white button shirt with black slacks, so your shirt was utterly see-through thanks to the rain. This was supposed to be a lovely evening out with friends, but it had turned into a disaster, and you were more than ready to binge-eat pizza while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine.
You were initially supposed to go to a fancy restaurant with your best friend, Olivia, her boyfriend, and another close friend, Lucas. It was a going away dinner for her, as she was moving away for college. The restaurant was one of the best ones in New York City, and you somehow managed to snag a reservation for the four of you. As it was a top-notch restaurant, there was a dress code that one had to follow: black tie. You wore a handsome black suit with a white undershirt, and you were more than excited to drink the best wine and taste the best food that New York had to offer.
You meet up with your friends outside the restaurant, waiting for Olivia’s boyfriend to show up. She wore a beautiful cocktail dress, while Lucas wore a decent suit; he wasn’t what you would classify as a redneck, but he fit the description to a tee.
Thirty minutes had passed before her boyfriend showed up, and you almost lost it. He wore sweat shorts with an ugly soccer jersey, and to top it off, he wore a beanie that he refused to take off. You were always calm and collected, not one to jump to violence even when needed, but he really pissed you off sometimes.
You knew there was no way you guys would be allowed to dine at this restaurant just because of him, but you still gave it a shot. And whenever you guys walked into the restaurant, the waiter asked him to leave or change, but he insisted that he was allowed to eat there because he was ‘more of a man’ than the owner. Because of this, he turned it into a fifteen-minute argument with the manager, and then all four of you were asked to leave.
You were naturally upset about this and the fact that you had to put down a hundred-dollar deposit just to reserve a table. After you guys had left, he decided the group would go to Hardee’s, as he needed to get his daily food from there. You held your tongue as you drove there; this was supposed to be Olivia’s going-away party, but he just had to hijack everything.
Long story short, you were out a hundred dollars, listened to Olivia’s boyfriend talk about the WWE for thirty minutes, and bought a pizza at a locally-owned pizzeria. Just as you left the pizzeria, a downpour of rain started, causing your outfit to get ruined while you had to drive home in the rain. Your nerves were more than shot, but you didn’t say anything. Confrontation made you uncomfortable, and you always did your best to avoid it.
As you made your way to the elevator, a soft voice called, ‘Hold it!’ You switched the box to your left hand and held the elevator door back with your right.
“Thank you,” the voice said once she entered the elevator. She was close to a foot shorter than you, and when your eyes made contact, your heart skipped a beat. She was easily the most beautiful person you have ever seen; she had soft chestnut-brown eyes, freckles that highlighted those eyes, and the prettiest smile you had ever seen. Her bangs perfectly framed her face, and you couldn’t even mutter, ‘You’re welcome.’
She looked at you uncomfortably while looking at the elevator buttons. “Oh, looks like we’re going to the same floor then,” she said with an awkward chuckle while glancing over at you.
Your eyes snapped to the buttons and then back to her. “I guess so,” you said with a weak voice.
Tara looked at you when you spoke, but her eyes slowly drifted down to look at your shirt. She admired your abs through the soaked white shirt as it clung to your body, trying her best to keep her cheeks from getting too warm. She loved how you towered over her, and she would pay money to see your muscles or watch you work out.
Tara was snapped out of her thoughts as the elevator dinger and the doors opened. You smiled at her politely as you left the elevator, and to your surprise, she followed you down the same hallway. As you approached your door, Tara walked to the door before yours.
When you found yours, you unlocked your door and opened it, but before you walked in, you looked over your right shoulder and smiled at Tara. “It was nice meeting you,” you said softly as you walked into your apartment and shut the door. Tara smiled back at you while saying, ‘You too.’
You ran into Tara several times like that, and you tried your best to talk to her. You weren’t the best at socializing, especially with beautiful women, and Tara seemed to like that about you. You would always listen to her and seemed to enjoy what she said.
After enough small talk in the hallway, she eventually asked you to come to her apartment for the first time. You were nervous, of course, but there was no way you could pass on an opportunity to hang out with the alluring woman.
“Here we are,” Tara said as she held the door open for you. You smiled at her while walking into the apartment. It was nice and cozy, and it looked a lot like yours, and you instantly felt at home. Tara crept up behind you, grabbed your hand, and eagerly pulled you into the living room. Your cheeks immediately warmed at the touch, and you didn’t fight back as the younger girl tugged you into the living room.
You sat on the couch next to her as she grabbed the remote. “So, you know how I told you I wanted to watch a movie with you?” Tara asked with a smile while staring into your eyes; she could look into them forever and never get bored.
“Yeah, ‘The Babadook,’ I think?” You questioned with an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, that’s the one,” Tara said with a smile as she got up and looked around the entertainment center for the DVD. After a few minutes of looking, she let out a loud ‘ah-ha’ and inserted the disk into the DVD player.
She then sat on the couch and rested her head on your lap. The action caught you off guard, but then you gently ran your fingers through her hair. She smiled at the action and let out a soft sigh of happiness as she nestled into your lap.
That's how you two spent every Friday night: curled up on her couch watching movies. You enjoyed being in the girl’s company, and Tara loved showing you her favorite movies. Sometimes, you two would gossip about people on campus- you were in psychology together- or you would talk about what you had done that day.
Tara had mentioned that she had a sister she lived with, but you had never met her. Frankly, you were a little nervous to meet the older woman. You had caught yourself slowly falling for Tara, and it seemed that Tara valued her sister’s opinion more than her own. You hoped that you would make a good impression when you did meet her; you just didn’t expect to have to meet her today.
You and Tara were watching your new favorite show, ‘New Girl.’ It had been a peaceful night, and you two refused to watch an episode without the other. You were lying on the couch with Tara curled up on your chest. You guys were laughing together as Jess explained how she bought a footstool with a giant bag of meth when you heard the door to the apartment open.
Tara quickly pushed herself off your chest when she heard the door open and sat at the opposite end of the couch.
“Hey, Sam! What are you doing back here so soon?” She asks with a slightly nervous tone as she pauses the tv.
You heard the sound of boots walking toward you on the couch. You slowly push yourself up on the sofa, resting on your elbow as you look at the woman.
Sam was certainly taller than Tara, but not taller than you. She had jet-black hair and beautiful brown eyes. You were almost certain if Tara didn’t hold your heart, you would have fallen for the woman. She has a neutral expression as her eyes dart between you and Tara. “What’s going on here?” She dryly asks as she hangs up her backpack purse and turns to face you two.
You were about to say something, but Tara quickly interrupted you. “We were just watching a movie. This is Y/N, by the way,” Tara says as she nudges you, silently telling you to introduce yourself.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. You are extremely gorgeous,” you say with a giant smile as you extend your hand. Tara gives you a look of disbelief, but you can't see it as you face her older sister.
Sam looks at you suspiciously before shaking your hand. She makes sure to give you a good death grip, and if it weren’t for Tara, you probably would have melted onto the floor.
She scoffs as she rolls her eyes and lets go of your hand, and then looks at Tara, “Where did you find this street rat?”
Tara let out a small laugh that caused you to whip your hand around and give her a disheartening look. She quickly clears her throat before speaking in an annoyed tone, “I ‘found’ her in the apartment building, actually. We met in the elevator and shared a few conversations in the hallway.”
“So you have invited a stranger into our home with just you two here?” Sam asks with narrow eyes as she stares at you.
Her sister huffed, “This isn’t our first time hanging out here.”
At that, Sam’s eyes instantly leave yours, and she is staring at Tara with wide eyes and her mouth slightly open. “Are you kidding me, Tara?! Have you been hanging out with this random person while I’ve been at therapy? What if they tried to kill you?” Sam exclaims as she walks over and kneels before Tara, checking her sister for scratches or cuts.
“I would never hurt her, Sam. She’s too kind,” you say with a giant smile, even though Sam just insisted that you were a potential killer. You didn't care that she implied it; all you could think about was the beautiful girl you shared the couch with.
Sam slowly looks at you while keeping her hands on her sister’s knees. She glares at you with narrowed eyes as her eyes look you up and down. She can tell that you are taller than her and undoubtedly stronger than her. The fact that you could easily overpower both her and her sister set Sam on edge, but the way you seemed to carry yourself: the way you talked, sat, smiled, and even breathed made her even more suspicious of you. Sam had already seen how someone Tara loved killed her friends and almost both of them; she refused to let that happen again.
But you just seemed so indifferent about things. Sam wanted to call you some other things that weren’t nice, but she stuck with calling you indifferent.
Sam looked back at Tara and lightly sighed. “Is this the one you’ve been talking about?”
Tara moves around nervously while Sam calls her out. Her eyes shift uneasily between you and Sam as she fidgets with her fingers. “Um, yeah, they are,” she says with a low voice.
“Okay,” Sam says with a defeated tone as she stands up. She looks at you and speaks threateningly, “If you do anything to hurt Tara, I will kill your entire family and then you.”
You smile at Sam’s words as you sit up on the couch. “I don’t talk to any of my family, so I wouldn’t really care if you did. But I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill me; I love hanging out with Tara, and I would greatly miss it,” you say gently as you look at Tara. Tara is staring holes into the floor while she tries to hide her smile with her right hand.
Sam rolls her eyes at your comment and walks into her room, but not before sending a threatening glance at you and Tara on the couch. You had moved closer to her sister, and you looked back at her, sending her a polite wave with a friendly smile, believing that you had made a great impression on the older woman.
Sam scoffs as she walks into her room, slamming her door. You look back at Tara with a gentle smile and ask with a quiet tone, “You told her about me?”
The atmosphere in the living room immediately changed into something tense, and Tara could almost taste it on her tongue as she spoke calmly, “Um, yeah, I did. Does that bother you at all?”
You love how Tara refused to meet your gaze when she spoke; it almost made you believe she harbored romantic feelings for you, just as you did for her. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I kinda like it,” you say with a gentle smile as Tara’s eyes meet yours.
Those beautiful brown eyes smiled for her as they quickly glanced down at your lips before returning to yours. “You mean that?” She asks in a more confident voice as she shifts her body to face you; she has pulled her left leg up onto the couch while letting her right one hang off the couch, and her entire body is facing you.
“Of course, I mean that, Tara. I actually think I made a good impression; she seemed really nice,” you say happily. Tara let out a small laugh as she grabbed your hands and pulled you closer to her. You followed her silent commands and ended up laying your head in her lap while facing the tv.
Once your head got comfortable in her lap, Tara softly ran her fingers on her left hand through your hair while she reached for the tv remote on the coffee table with her other hand. “Just so you know, you did not, in fact, make a good impression with Sam, but I still like you,” Tara said with a smile that grew bigger when she heard you scoff in response.
She loved having these small, soft moments with you. She knew you weren’t the brightest, but your kind and caring nature made up for it plenty. Tara would give up everything she had to her name if it meant spending an evening like this with you for the rest of her days. You held her heart in your hands, and it only took her two weeks to admit that after your first encounter with Sam.
You two were going on a ‘double date’ with Mindy and Anika. You were a bit iffy on calling it a double date, as you and Tara weren’t dating, but Mindy and Anika are. So in your head, you called it a ‘totally platonic hangout.’
You got dressed and left your apartment to head over to Tara’s. When you knocked, the door instantly opened, and Tara was wearing a giant smile and a cute outfit.
“Hi,” she says with an angel-like voice while staring up at you with soft eyes.
“Hi,” you reply breathlessly. If Tara would let you, you would always stare at her, admiring her beautiful features and counting her freckles.
She snaps you out of your daydream by taking your hand in hers and intertwining your fingers. You gently bump your shoulder against hers as you walk towards the elevator and out to your car.
When you two get in the car, you start it and drive towards the restaurant. You and Tara talk about your day and how you missed each other (it's been two days since you last saw each other). You tell her about the crazy things your roommates have done recently, and she laughs at your stories. She tells you about new things in her life, such as Sam asking about you more and that she’s got a new roommate named Quinn. Tara said that the girl was promiscuous but funny and lighthearted. She then starts to talk about Chad, and you instinctively tense up.
“Chad hasn’t left me alone all week, Y/N! It's starting to drive me crazy. At first, I thought he just wanted to hang out as friends more, but yesterday he told me he has feelings for me. Can you believe that?” Tara asks with a small laugh as she looks over at you. You had gripped the steering wheel tighter at the mention of Chad having feelings for Tara. Your chest began to tighten, and your heartbeat picked up with jealousy. You had no right to be jealous, but you couldn’t help. Chad was athletic like you, but he was also a lot smarter than you, which Tara valued and liked as a romantic partner.
“Oh. Well, I'm happy for you, Tara. You deserve someone like him,” you lie through your teeth with a sad tone.
At your saddened tone, Tara finally noticed how your body was tense and how you seemed to want to strangle the steering wheel. She reaches her left hand out and gently places it on your arm, “I don't like him like that, Y/N,” Tara says honestly while looking at you with love. You visibly relax at her words and almost let a smile appear.
“How come? He’s everything you want in a partner: smart, funny, caring, loyal, and strong,” you reply with a weak voice that Tara almost laughs at.
She rubs her hand up and down your arm as she says, “I don’t like him back because I have feelings for someone else.”
“Oh. Well, I hope they make you happy,” you say honestly. Tara might not like you back, but you wanted her to be happy. And if she was happy, you were too.
Tara gently squeezes your arm before pulling back and placing her hands in her lap. She looks at you with so much yearning and love that she’s surprised you can’t feel it, but then she remembers you were basically a himbo: friendly, respectful, handsome, but not that bright. “You have no idea,” she says while sending heart eyes your way.
When you two get to the restaurant, you meet with Mindy and Anika and walk in together. You four get a table in the corner of the restaurant. You are sharing a side with Tara while sitting across Anika and Tara across from Mindy. You guys made idle conversation while waiting for someone to take your orders.
An attractive young woman approaches the table with a pip in her step, “Hey guys, welcome to O’Charley’s, my name is Sadie, and I’ll be your waitress for today. What can I get your guys to drink?”
All four of you order sweet teas, and before she leaves, she sends you a flirty wink that you missed, but Tara didn’t. She let out a small scoff as she hid her face in her menu, trying to fight jealousy. You look at Tara but don’t say anything, afraid to upset the girl more.
When Sadie brings back your teas, your hand lightly brushes hers as you grab yours, causing the woman to smirk. “Alright, are you guys ready to order?” She asks as she pulls her notepad from her apron, and you guys nod. “Okay, what can I get for you, beautiful?”
You pull your head from the menu and find that Sadie is talking to you. “Oh, I would like six-ounce sirloin with a Caesar salad and fries, please,” you say with a small smile. Not a flirty one, just a friendly one, but both Sadie and Tara mistake it for a flirty one. One girl is excited, while the other is filled with thoughts of murder.
Sadie finishes taking everyone’s orders before she quickly disappears again, but the atmosphere at the table is tense. Everyone but you can feel it, to which you start another conversation, and everyone else but Tara joins in. You tried to get the girl to talk, but you would get a small ‘uh huh’ or ‘of course.’
When your meals arrive, the four of you eat in peaceful silence, occasionally talking about how excellent your food is. It was an overall relaxing dinner until the checks came.
“You guys are separate, and you two are together?” Sadie asks, gesturing to you and Tara before gesturing toward Mindy and Anika. She was asking about the checks, but Tara picked up on the hidden underlining that you did not.
“That is correct,” you say as you accept your check from Sadie and then hand Tara hers. You all pay in cash and quietly wait for Sadie to come back.
When she does, however, she hands everyone their change, and instead of leaving, she pulls out her notepad and writes her number down on it. “Give me a call sometime,” she says with a wink as she hands you the paper.
You were going to ask what she meant by that, but any words got lost on your tongue as Tara stood up from the table and stormed out of the restaurant. Your clueless eyes follow Tara out of the restaurant before you lose sight of her, and you turn away to find both Mindy and Anika staring at you with wide eyes. “Go get her, dumbass,” Anika says harshly after a moment.
You grab yours and Tara’s change before quickly excusing yourself from the table, almost knocking your chair over. After you leave the restaurant, your eyes scan the area, looking for your lady. It only takes you a few seconds before your eyes land on her; she’s sitting on a bench, just staring at the ground.
You jog over to her and stop when she looks up at you. Her eyes are filled with a bit of anger and a lot of hurt, and for the first time in your life, you are out of words to say. You were always overtly friendly with people and they often mistook flirting with friendliness, which seemed to be your downfall with Tara.
“Tara, I am so sorry-”
“Just take me home, Y/N,” Tara cuts you off as she stands up from the bench and walks towards your car. You followed closely behind her, and when you got to the car, you went to open the door, but she shut it and opened it herself. You were slightly startled by the action but shook it off as you made your way to the driver’s side and got it. You start the car and drive back to the apartment; tension is the only thing you two feel.
You tried to talk to Tara throughout the car ride home, but she just stayed quiet and looked out the window with her arms crossed. You knew she was mad, but you couldn’t tell why. At first, you thought it might have been because of Sadie, but you and Tara weren’t dating, so she can’t be upset about it. Plus, your heart only belonged to Tara, so you would never go for anyone else.
When you two returned to the apartment building, it was an awkward ride up to your floor. When you two stepped off the elevator, you finally spoke, “Tara, please, I’m sorry, just talk to me,” you pleaded as you followed behind the girl.
You were getting ready to usher more apologies as Tara opened her door, but you were quickly cut off when she slammed the door in your face. You were stunned at the harsh action but knocked on her door once you realized what had happened. “Tara, please. Talk to me,” you said with a defeated tone. You waited a minute before sitting on the floor and resting your back against the door, sending Tara a string of apologies and asking her how you could fix it. But you got no reply, so you closed your eyes and rested your head against the door, hoping she would open up.
You fell asleep at one point but were quickly woken up when the door opened. Tara scoffed at you before she stepped over you. You stood up after she did that and followed her down the hallway. “Tara, you have to talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong,” you pleaded as you grabbed her wrist.
She pulled her hand out of your grasp. “Leave me alone, Y/N. I'm going to a party with Chad,” she said with a voice full of anger. Your heart instantly dropped at the mention of Chad, and your face showed it.
“Why Chad?” You asked with hurt, causing Tara to stop and turn around. She noticed the hurt look on your face, and she instantly wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let go, but she refused to give in easily.
“Because, Y/N, he invited me to go with him as his date. And who knows, I might even get lucky tonight,” Tara replied as she crossed her arms. She had no intention of sleeping with Chad; she just wanted to make you jealous enough so you’ll finally make a move on her, but Tara soon found out how wrong she was.
With a defeated sigh, you slumped your shoulders and spoke with a heartbroken voice, “I didn’t know you truly felt that way towards him. I hope he gives you the world then, Tara. You deserve that kind of love. I hope you have fun tonight, and just so you know, I am so sorry and I don't want to lose you.”
When you finished talking, you gave Tara a tight-lip smile as you turned around and walked toward your apartment. You were just outside your door when you felt a tiny hand slip into yours, pulling you around. You barely have time to respond before Tara crashes her lips against yours.
You were so shocked to feel her lips against your own you just stood there like an idiot before you finally broke out in a grin and kissed her back. When you kissed her back, you felt butterflies in your stomach, and your entire body became warm the more Tara kissed you. You grabbed her hips and pulled her closer, needing to feel her body against yours. Tara parted her lips to deepen the kiss, and your knees almost buckled.
When oxygen was needed, you two pulled away, resting your foreheads together. You two could hear nothing but the sounds of each other trying to catch your breaths and the drums of your hearts. You placed one final kiss on Tara’s lips and pulled away from her. “Are you still going out with Chad?” You asked with a slight frown; you really wanted to hang out with Tara after what just happened, but you were still unsure of where you stood with her.
She laughed as she grabbed your hand and opened your apartment door. “Not a chance,” she whispered against your lips, pulling you into your apartment before closing the door.
That was four weeks ago, and today you are preparing a dinner for yours and Tara’s one-month anniversary. She told you it didn't have to be anything special, as you two would have many more months together in the future, but you insisted on doing something nice. You were cutting up some steaks in the kitchen while Tara made homemade mashed potatoes. “Do you think Sam would want any?” You ask, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know. You should ask her though. I think she’s on the couch,” Tara replies as she mashes the potatoes in a saucepan. You nod at her words and head into the living room with the knife still in your hand.
Sam was lying on the couch watching tv. She wanted to stay home tonight to keep an eye on you and Tara, but she wanted to give her sister some amount of privacy.
“Hey, Sam, I'm getting ready to make some steak. Would you like some?” You ask, pulling Sam’s attention away from the tv. She leans up, and her eyes instantly land on the knife, dripping with blood. Her mind is filled with thoughts of Tara, and her body reacts before she can even think; her hands grab your arm and flips you over the couch and onto the coffee table, breaking it. She quickly takes the knife out of your hand and presses her right knee into your chest, making breathing hard for you. The action slightly turned you on, and you mentally murdered yourself for thinking that way about your girlfriend’s sister.
“What the fuck was-oh my god, Sam! Get off of her!” Tara screams as she runs into the living room, pulling Sam off your chest. You suck in some air, and Tara moves to help you up, “are you okay, love? Is anything broken?” She questions while checking over your body for any injuries.
“No, I'm okay,” you say as you stand up and look at the table, “your table isn’t, though.” Tara laughs at your comment and kisses your cheek before turning toward her sister. Her caring and loving nature was gone and replaced with anger. “Why did you do that, Sam?! Y/N was just being nice!”
Sam scoffs at Tara’s words but flinches back as Tara points the knife at her, demanding an answer. Sam reaches out and pushes Tara’s hand down, “I saw the blood on the knife and freaked out. I'm sorry, Tara,” Sam mumbled with shame.
“Don’t apologize to me; apologize to Y/N,” Tara demands, still staring at her sister.
Sam glares back at her sister before looking at you. “I'm sorry I flipped you over the couch and onto the coffee table,” Sam says with a low voice as her eyes refuse to meet yours.
“It's okay, Sam. Don’t worry about it,” you say with a smile. It really was okay with you, even though you felt slightly bad about breaking the table.
After your dangerous encounter with Sam, you and Tara return to the kitchen and finish dinner. You even made Sam a plate and brought it to her room. She thanked you as she took it, and you smiled politely as a response.
You and Tara continued having small dinners at home, followed by movie nights. She would also stay up late reading her books to you as you fell asleep. You weren’t the best at reading, but you loved the stories more than anything, and you loved them even more when Tara let you lay on her chest as she read to you.
It was game night at the Carpenter’s apartment, and the core four plus the girlfriends were over, along with Quinn, but she had a ‘male friend’ over. The six of you were playing a not-so-relaxing game of Uno when muffled screams came from Quinn’s room. The group just laughed it off, believing it was just Quinn having a really good time, but when her screams became ones of pain, and she cried for help, everyone stood up from the table and ran into the living room, staring at Quinn’s door.
The apartment had fallen into an eerie quietness that sent shivers up everyone’s spine; it was as if the temperature in the room had dropped ten degrees.
“Run,” Mindy says, but before anyone can move, the door opens, and Ghostface pushes Quinn’s body out of the door, causing it to land on Anika, knocking her to the ground.
Ghostface charges out of the room and swings his knife at Mindy, cutting her arm. You push Tara into the kitchen as you grab a bat from the corner of the room. You run towards him and quickly swing it; the sound of metal meeting bone rings throughout the apartment as he collapses onto the ground.
“Come on,” you command as you grab Tara’s hand and pull her towards the door, flinging it open as you rush everyone out of the apartment. You do a quick headcount, and when you reach head number five, you shut the door and follow everyone downstairs.
Once outside, everyone regroups with their loved ones; Anika and Chad both check on Mindy’s arm as Sam holds Tara close to her chest. You walk toward Tara and Sam, and when your girlfriend sees you, she pulls away from Sam’s grasp and throws her body at you, pulling you into a crippling hug. You smile at the contact and kiss her head, thanking all the gods that your Tara was safe in your arms.
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