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espinosaurusrexex · 6 months

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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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ghouljams · 5 months

Note

hey bestie listen. I’ve just learned about glove decorum in the regency era. wearing gloves was insanely important and rich women had like a gazillion of them. but anyway apparently letting a man take your glove off was akin to rawdogging it in public and I was like “oh König would. nasty bitch” my question is who else in the regency au would do that

FUCKING ALL OF THEM BESTIE

König tugs your glove off as you walk through his gardens, your royally assigned chaperone looks the other way as he raises your hand to his lips to kiss your bare knuckles. You freeze when his tongue darts out to trace between your fingers, warm and wet, and darkly promising when his teeth scrape your skin. He pulls your glove off at your very public proposal as well, just so he can "see the way the ring looks against your skin." His thick fingers are tight around your wrist to keep your from nervously pulling away, and he dares anyone to say anything when he turns your hand over to kiss the soft skin of your wrist.

Price tugs your glove off under the table at a dinner party. His fingers tracing over yours, enjoying the soft skin. You can only be glad that the table cloth covers the way he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand. It would be proper for you to pull your hand away and pull your glove back on, but proper doesn't make your stomach flutter the way Price's fingers do. He traces a gentle "L-O-V-E" against your palm and you have to stop from giggling. Neither of you look at each other, merely continue your separate conversations with the understanding that you're both terribly, improperly, in love.

Soap has no problem tugging your glove off at a party after someone bumps into you and your drink spills over your glove. You're engaged, what does he care if people think it's rude? You smack him just hard enough to maintain your dignity, and he grabs your bare hand to hold it against his cheek, excitement twinkling in his eyes. You've never been more sure of your impending demise than when you see him smile against your palm.

Ghost pulls your glove off in the sitting room of your family home. He quietly studies your hand, tracing his fingers over the hills and valleys of your knuckles, around the blunt edge of your nails, around the sides of each finger. It's like he can't stop from touching you, from observing every inch of you down to the smallest scrap of skin. He turns your hand over to trace the lines of your palm, his nail gently following the whorls of your finger prints as he stares at your skin. You take his hand to measure your own against it, and he curls his fingers over yours, slips them between yours to hold your hand. His eyes shine with affection. He covers your bare hand with his, two big hands concealing your lack of a glove, when your maid brings in tea.

Gaz "notices a tear" in your glove and offers you his while you walk through the park. You offer him your hand to show you where the supposed tear is, and he very kindly pinches the seam and pulls it apart. You curl your fingers against his hand when he tugs your glove off, his eyes linger on your ring finger and you both enjoy the warmth of the other's skin. He's much slower helping you fit his gloves onto your bare hand. "You may as well walk around with a matching pair," He tells you, pulling your other glove off to replace with his own. His fingers dip under the far too loose band to stroke your bare wrist as you finish your walk.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish x reader #john #soap x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #f!reader #regency au #König #König x reader

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peachypinkygloss · 1 year

Text

wicked obsession — pjm

You don't like Jimin; you two are nothing alike. He's the campus' infamous fuck boy while you're studious, never stepping foot into parties. It's certainly not a good thing when he grows an obsession over you.

★ pairing: fuck boy!jimin x sub/fem!reader

☆ genre: university au, friends with benefits, smut

★ word count: 8.2k

☆ warnings: dub-con, non-con to a certain extent, take of pictures and videos without consent, threats toward the reader, hard dom jimin <3 (he's pretty soft in this one but still), he's evil and hot, reader's kind of a pervert too if we think about it long enough, pillow humping (f), masturbation (m), unprotected sex, no penetration because it's not a necessity 😌👍🏻, praising & brief degradation, dry humping, grinding, facial, cum eating, cunnilingus & fingering, squirting, jimin's a munch.

a.n.: this is a gift for myself since i crave jimin really, really badly. again, be mature and read the warnings! it's your job to avoid the content you don't like, not mine! 😉

playing: Filme moi

Please reblog! It helps me a lot and my fic get more visibility :)

He's looking at you like a predator, narrowing his eyes and passing his index finger over his plump bottom lip. The only thing you can do is pretend to not see him staring intently at you and work harder on your assignment. If only you could do those things without anxiously glaring up at him and immediately breaking eye contact when he's already looking at you.

He doesn't even engage in the conversation with your group of friends and for some reason nobody has noticed how Jimin is ogling at you.

Why is he suddenly interested in you? Why!?

He knows how much you disapprove of his lifestyle. He doesn't care about his studies, he submits assignments days after the due date because why should he bother about the date when he'll get an A anyway. He puts no effort while you spend days on your homework and it angers you a lot.

Jimin is infamously known for his never ending libido, fucking everything that has two legs, two arms and a pussy. Infamously known to be a fuck boy simply because he breaks every women's heart without a care in the world. He may flash a smile while telling them they were a good hook up and that's it.

And that's why you're in big trouble because Park Jimin can't be obsessed with you.

As you finish typing your sentence on your keyboard, pressing on enter to change paragraphs, you look up. Mainly because you want to distract yourself a little bit from your work, but also because you can still feel his eyes boring into your skull.

Then, you see his black orbs looking straight in front of him where you're sitting while he's leaning against the chair's back, spreading his legs apart. You're surprisingly brave enough to hold eye contact this time, shivers running down your spine when he darts his tongue out to wet his lips.

What did you do for him to stare at you like you're a piece of meat?

It's like he's trying to send you a message, one that would offend you, make you raise your eyebrows in total astonishment and probably stop your heart from beating. Even though you can't decipher his message, you can understand it. Something nasty, so filthy that the devil himself wouldn't approve of.

He tilts his head downward and looks at you through hooded eyes. You have to swallow to not choke on your spit as his gaze destabilizes you so much you can't even process what's happening around you.

Jimin seems to like that, enjoying how weak you are, how you crumble apart just from holding eye contact with him. He smirks, following each one of your movements with his devious eyes.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on your computer's screen, but you can't. He's distracting you and it really annoys you. Why can't he mind his own business?

"Class at ten, gonna go to my locker," one of your friends announces, Taehyung, while getting up from his seat.

Priya, also one of your friends, copies Taehyung's actions, standing up on her feet as well. "Oh, yes! I forgot my lip balm in my locker, I'm coming with you," she smiles at him, putting the straps of her tote bag over her right shoulder.

It's how the table you were hanging at slowly empties, and you let out the breath you were holding when Jimin decides to follow Seokjin and Jungkook to the cafeteria to buy some snacks before class. You're left alone at your request, telling Priya and the other girls that you're going to work extra minutes on your essay before joining them.

You wrote four pages already, only ten more and you'll be done. It's a lot and you're totally discouraged, but that's how university is. You quickly check the time on your phone and start packing your things in your backpack to attend your afternoon class that you share with some of your friends.

You take a seat in the middle beside Priya and you don't miss the glance Jimin sends you when he passes by, going to the back of the class with Jungkook. You're relieved he doesn't sit with you, even though it would have been unusual of him, but his sudden interest in you is unusual so you don't know what to expect anymore.

The professor explains the next project, which is a work that you'll have to do in a team of two people. The instructions are pretty simple, something you can do in less than two weeks. You expect to team up with Priya, after all you're the only girls of your group in this class and you two are close friends.

When the teacher is done with the instructions, he lets everyone form their teams. You do the work with Priya, but that is until Jimin makes his appearance.

"Hey, Pri'. You don't mind working with Kookie, right?" He asks your friend and she looks at him curiously, her eyebrows raising up on her face. You, on the other hand, are very confused, opening your mouth to protest until Priya responds with a joyful smile.

"Oh! No, not at all! You two are doing it together? How nice," she giggles, turning her head to look at you. She takes her books in her arms and walks to Jungkook without thinking twice about it.

Jimin steps aside to let her go, watching her sitting beside Jungkook with an undying smile plastered on her face. Your heart starts beating extremely fast as he takes place next to you, acting as if he just didn't decide to work with you without your consent.

"What are you doing! I never said I'd team up with you!" You whisper-shout at him, not wanting anyone to hear you complaining.

He checks the papers the teacher gave you earlier about the project's instructions with the evaluation grid, still pretending the situation is completely normal. "Well, I wanted to and you'll work better with me than with Priya, don't you think?" He turns his head in your direction and his expression is serious. He's genuinely asking you this question.

You shrug, frowning even more. "This wasn't for you to decide," you clench your fists on the table, so frustrated that Jimin thinks it's okay to make decisions for you. You're not even close friends, it doesn't make sense. "I prefer working alone if it's like that," you say, rising up from your seat, but the murderous glare he sends you petrifies you on the spot.

"Sit down," he commands severely and you do as he says, fearing him. He eyes you for a few seconds, making sure you won't try to leave him again. When you stay silent, he reports his attention on the project.

You don't say anything else, listening to Jimin's words distractedly, still baffled by what just happened. Students exit the class, others stay, and he offers to go work at the library.

There, you engage in the project with Jimin. You're pleasantly surprised to see that he's really focusing, sharing his ideas and opinions. You suppose he's only hardworking because the result doesn't solely rely on him. You know he's smart, but he prefers to spend his energy on partying instead of on his studies.

An hour passes and you're now working on your own, asking each other's opinion on things you wrote. You eventually forget how he typically forced you to work with him, but you still have this reluctance toward him, this feeling of repugnance.

Jimin isn't disgusting by any means, he's super hot and he knows he is. You might even be attracted to him, no need to deny it when he's so sexy he makes every girl's pussy mewl. But you know better than to act on your sexual desires, especially when they concern a guy as perverted as Jimin.

"Mmh," he seems to be thinking, but you feel like he already knows what he's going to say. "I forgot something at my dorm," he adds, not levelling his gaze from his sheet of paper.

You look at him, confused on why he doesn't explain further, as if it isn't important. "What is it?" You question him and that's when he raises his head, his gaze meeting yours.

His expression is painfully serious, and by now, you can easily recognize that it's a façade. You don't know what he's hiding, but you're sure of one thing; behind those beautiful almond shaped eyes, kindness doesn't reside there.

His eyes pierce through you, watching - observing your person. Jimin does this often, not answering until you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare. You have no clue on what he's trying to do, maybe see how vulnerable you are, how quickly you can break under the mischievous glint of his eyes.

"My charger."

You wouldn't know if Jimin is a liar because everything he says seems believable, the confidence he radiates just tells everyone how trustworthy this man is. But you look over the table where his phone lays down and the screen lights up as he just received a text. His battery is half full.

He takes his iPhone back into his hand, shoving it in his jeans' front pocket as he stands up from his chair. He tidies his stuff back into his pencil case then into his JanSport backpack, but he stops to look at you when you don't do the same thing. "Aren't you coming with me?" Again, his question is asked with a serious tone, as if following him to his dorm is the normal thing to do.

"I thought we'll just leave it there for today," you confess in a small voice, looking up at him from your seat. Your grip on your pencil tightens when his gaze flicks between your face and your breasts. You despise how he doesn't even hide it.

"No," he breathes out calmly, tilting his head to the side. "We'll continue it at my place, we can't stop now, we're doing so well," he smiles and like the unbothered person that he is, he pulls on your pen. It slips out of your hold and Jimin drops it off in your pencil case. "I really want to do this right this time."

And like that, the conversation is closed. You have no choice but to follow him somewhere you've never been before, somewhere you know he won't hold himself back.

Jimin is guiding you with his soft voice, his hand placed on the small of your back, brushing his fingers adorned with rings across your naked body. You are sobbing out, feeling dirty, but the tingle between your legs is so good.

His lips are close to your ear, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a devilish smile. "Look at you, sweet thing... enjoying yourself, aren't you?" He whispers into your ear, doing slow circular motions with his hand on your back to soothe you.

You are humping his white pillow, rubbing your pussy frantically against the soft cotton material. Jimin is watching you closely, his smirk never leaving his plush lips. If someone is enjoying it the most, it's him. He likes seeing you losing your dignity bit by bit, and that, only because he asked you to.

The hair on the nape of your neck is wet and you have to tuck his pillow upwards regularly, this one falling down from your weak grip. Jimin doesn't bother to give you a hand, liking the way you are struggling to rut your hips against the soiled pillow, so eager to finally have your release.

For him, it's okay. Making you submit, ripping the last bit of confidence you had in you, forcing you to do things you find wrong. 'It's natural, after all', he said. 'Your body needs it, you can't keep denying your sexual desires for the rest of your life'. He is right about one point; your body needs it, but not you. It's where he fails to understand.

"See, I knew you would like it... I knew you'd like to rub that little pussy on a pillow," he purrs into your ear, smiling even more when a whine confirms his words. "Don't forget to look at the camera, sweetie," he pats your hair and you raise your head, frowning when you see yourself on his phone's screen.

It's placed on his desk chair in front of his bed, levelled on his chemistry books. When you think about it, the chair was already there, facing the bed, as you entered his room earlier. He had set up everything in advance and the thought itself makes you shudder so deeply that your members shake beside you.

"Jimin-!" You gasp out, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening. You grind your hips harder and faster on the pillow, the same he's sleeping on each night, and feel yourself trembling in anticipation of your orgasm.

At the small call of his name, his face softens, his lips in an exaggerated pout. He takes pity on you, nothing more, just pity because you're so pathetic and weak trying to make yourself cum by humping his pillow.

"I know, baby," he coos, caressing your back, the cool silver of his rings brushing against your burning skin. His other hand gropes your breasts, strong veins pulsing out along his arm. He fumbles the flesh of your boobs, teasing your perky nipples with his palm. "Just let it go..."

You rub your clit against Jimin's pillow, twisting the fabric between your fingers, moving your hips frantically until your orgasm hits you. Jimin looks at you in awe, he has a wicked curiosity to watch you shake in pleasure - a pleasure you didn't ask for. He loves the tears that run down your chubby cheeks, loves that despite everything, you still like this.

You whine as you drive off your high, soiling the pillow with your juices and cum. Jimin lets out a groan, pulling the cushion away from your drenched cunt. "You did such a good job, baby," he praises you and passes an arm around your waist, bringing you against him. "What a sweet girl, so obedient, and just for me."

His free hand grips the back of your thigh and pulls it over his hip, making you fall underneath him on the mattress. You moan softly, feeling your pussy quivering, asking more than just a clitoral orgasm.

Jimin settles between your legs, pampering your neck in sloppy kisses, discovering your body with his pillowy and plump pink lips. He hesitates to mark you, to leave love bites all over your skin, but he refrains himself from it. Not yet.

Your hair is spread all over his bed, your beautiful tits displayed for him. He places a hand above your shoulder on the mattress to support his weight, the other holding your thigh that is locked behind his back. He lowers his head toward your breasts and positions himself better, bending his elbow beside your arm instead of leaving his hand next to your head.

His hot breath hits your nipples, making them even harder. He wraps his plushy lips around one, suckling on it avidly, leaving you panting heavily. Your face is hot, the entire room feels hot, and you think you might melt down under Jimin.

He licks your supple flesh, feeling the lines of your stretch marks under his pink muscle. He plays with the other that is left out by his mouth, pinching and pulling on your little bud. Quickly, your boobs are glistening in his spit, a beautiful sight he wants to reproduce every time he's with you.

"Jiminie..." You moan his name, arching your back as he bites gently on your nipple, flattening his tongue over it after as if to apologize for the pain. You're like a little doll for Jimin to play with, to love and care for.

He's acting awfully sweet as he rips the pureness out of you, sucking fervently on your nipples that you feel your stomach clench. It's a mix of discomfort and pleasure, making you feel weird, but also giving your core tingles you've never experienced before.

His crotch presses against your wet pussy and he slowly grinds his hips, making you aware of his hard cock trapped in his jeans. He detaches his lips from around your nipple and your breast bounces down to the side after. Jimin finds his spot in the crook of your neck again, still grinding his hips against yours.

He lets out a guttural moan from his throat and your pussy clenches around nothing but air. You have to admit that you don't really know what's happening, too drunk on the hormones both of your bodies are releasing. The rutting of Jimin's hips is pleasuring you, stimulating your clit perfectly, but that's not what you wanted, is it?

"Mmh, fuck," he curses, nuzzling your neck and giving you little kisses that want to be reassuring. "I'm so fucking horny, I want to fuck you so bad you have no idea," he presses his bulge harder on you, wanting to feel more friction, but his clothes are restraining him too much.

He looks you in the eye, catching every little moan that escapes your lips, accompanying his grunts and the noise of his bed creaking. He breathes onto your face as he painfully grinds his hips against yours. Maybe you would like him to penetrate you and fuck you until you can't feel any of your limbs, or until he ejaculates deep into you, stuffing you full of his seeds.

Maybe you would like it, maybe you would consider it.

He breaks eye contact as he sits back on his knees, glancing at your messy cunt, quivering helplessly. He grips the back of his white t-shirt with his two hands, pulling on the collar to pass it over his head. He throws it away on the floor where your clothes are as well, revealing to you his beautiful chest.

He has a tattoo on his rib cage, the word nevermind spelled in uppercase inked on his pale skin. His abs are well defined and his nipples are in a shade of dark pink. You can see the muscles of his biceps and he has a trail of hair under his belly button, going to his pelvis. Jimin looks dreamy, it's a shame that he has such a nasty reputation.

He unbuckles his belt, the clanking sound making your stomach flutter, pussy impatiently waiting for him and what he has to deliver. He doesn't stop looking at you as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them while your eyes immediately lower to his crotch. Under these boxers, there's a huge bulge, and you imagine a thick cock, average length but unreal girth.

"Do you want to see my cock, sweetie?" He asks you in a gentle voice, a smile on his lips, but there is no mockery behind it. Though he's asking, he's not really waiting for your consent. He doesn't need it, not at the point where you are. "Aren't you a little bit curious?" His right hand comes to caress his hard on over his boxers, veiny hand gripping it and palming it.

You don't respond, mostly because you don't know what to say. You glimpse in the direction of the chair where his phone is settled down, seeing Jimin's body hovering over yours. He looks so imposing, dominating, and for some reason this sends a wave of heat between your legs.

You look back at him and you swallow, wondering if all of this talk is to make a show for the camera. You know he knows how much it disturbs you, but it seems like it doesn't bother him. It spurs him on even more, watching your face contort in discomfort and fear, wanting to bury yourself six feet under ground.

But he also knows that despite those negative feelings, you like this situation very, very much. Your body betrays your emotions; pussy leaking down your ass, wetness sticking to your inner thighs, nipples hard and pupils dilated.

He bites down on his bottom lip, passing his thumbs under the band of his briefs. Your heart accelerates, mind going crazy at the fact of seeing Jimin's dick just in front of you, centimetres away from your crotch.

"So excited to see me... You're going to like it, baby, believe me," he chuckles, lingering his eyes over your naked body, noticing the goosebumps running along your skin and making your hair stand up on your arms.

You almost whimper when he tucks the band of his boxers down, setting his cock free from its confines. It twitches twice before standing up proud against his pale stomach, pink tip glistening from pre-cum under the light of his bedroom.

You were right; Jimin is girthy, not super long and unshaved, but his head reaches a few inches under his belly button. He's really thick, and with what you've already seen in your life, you know his dick can't enter without forcing the entry a little bit. And this is not good, really not good. Not to mention the size of his balls that will surely leave bruises on your ass.

You're not sure if you like it.

You back away on the bed, trying to escape Jimin, but he's fast at gripping your thighs and pushing you back over to him. A laugh doesn't miss to leave his mouth, finding you silly for trying to run away from him when really, there's no way of getting away.

"It's okay, little thing. No need to fight..." His gaze lowers down to his dick where he takes it in his hand, angling it toward your pussy. "It's going to happen whether you want it or not," his last words end up in a whisper, too focused on swiping his tip through your folds to speak louder.

Your walls clench around nothing and you curse yourself for it, knowing that Jimin probably saw it. You whine when you feel him rubbing his mushroom head against your clit, his cock now covered in your wetness. He teases your hole, circling it slowly, collecting more of your arousal on his length.

Then, he pushes his head in slightly, testing how your pussy adjusts itself to the size of his thick cock. You wince as he pushes in over and over again, never putting more than the tip.

"Please, stop- Jimin, it's too much," you shake under him and throw your arms over his shoulders, this simple action making him actually reconsider what he's doing. "I can't take it..."

His eyes shift up to your face, not saying anything yet, observing if you're bluffing or not. If he's a good liar, then you're a bad one. He sighs, replacing his hands on each side of your head. "Don't worry," he promises, his lips brushing the side of your face, his breath tickling your burning cheek.

He glides his cock over your cunt, spreading your pussy lips apart and covering his erection in your juices. His girth stimulates your bud of nerves just the way you need it to feel the knot in your tummy tightening again. You're still sensitive, but it feels good. It's dirty, having your cum dripping down your hole, having Jimin's dick sliding up and down your drenched pussy, mixing his pre-cum to your own arousal.

Dirty, but great, oh, so great.

The zippers of his jeans sting the skin of your thighs as he grinds his cock over your clit non-stop, making you whine and moan, in pleasure or in pain, whatever it is you don't care anymore. It's slow and somehow sensual at first, Jimin moaning himself while driving his erection through your folds.

He gives you small kisses all over your face and while he does so, you can't believe that this is the same man that you used to say you hated so much. Each kiss is warm and soft, on your cheekbones, on your forehead or on the corner of your mouth, you love them all. You could forget about his phone filming your intercourse, you could forget about how he forced you to team up with you, you could forget about everything just by the delicate touch of his plump lips on your skin.

Each roll of his hips seems painful with the way he hisses and twists the bedsheets between his fists, very weak strings holding him back from fucking his cock into your pussy. You don't understand why he respects your boundaries now, but you won't complain.

"Mmh, a-ah, fuck..." You can't get over the fact how his voice sounds so angelic, so pure, and yet, he's doing that to you. Even his deepest moans are honeyed, butterflies flapping their wings in your belly as he growls into your ear.

He fastens the cadence of his hips before stopping, as if he'd have broken down to his real urges if he had continued.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'll have to cum on your face," he informs you, his wet cock leaving your pussy. "And I want some souvenirs..." He smiles deviously, getting up on his knees to stand over your chest.

You watch him pump himself lazily, his cock hovering over your face, mouth hanging open to catch your breath. He frowns and lets out a guttural moan, looking at your poor figure laying helplessly under him. He wets his lips and directs the tip of his cock to your mouth. You close it and he takes the opportunity to pass his head over your lips, smearing your own cum on them.

He tilts his head to the side, smiling as he glances at you with such a sick curiosity. "Do you like tasting yourself on my cock, baby? Hmm?" His eyes glint in mischievousness, so turned on to use you how he pleases, how he always wanted it. "Tastes good, doesn't it? Couldn't get enough even if you wanted to..." It doesn't have much of a flavour, you think, but Jimin seems to really like it.

He decides to jerk himself off just above your face and you clench your thighs, watching in awe how his hand grips tightly his erect penis and how his palm runs up and down smoothly around it. There's something about not being able to move, trapped under Jimin, that has your clit throbbing furiously.

Maybe it's something about him pleasuring himself shamelessly, spurts of your arousal splashing around as he fucks his fist, or something about his soft but deep moans he lets out from time to time, staring at you intently as you're the one making him so horny right now.

He passes a hand through his black hair, his bangs wet from his sweat. He twists his wrist, focusing on his swollen tip before stroking his whole length. "Ah, shit," he sounds really sensitive, sucking air through his teeth. "Gonna cum," he announces rapidly, fastening the pace of his palm.

The veins on his arm are producing, and you're amazed at how many there are. His rings shine as the light makes them glint each time he comes up to his mushroom head.

You open your mouth by instinct, flattening your tongue on your chin, which makes Jimin groans angrily. "Aah, what a good fucking slut," he angles his dick toward your face, long strands of white cum landing on your face as he moans out loudly. "Oh, God..." He mutters under his breath, spilling his creamy cum across your face.

It doesn't go as planned, his seeds leak down on your nose and forehead in a long trail rather than on your tongue and lips. You close one eye because some of his cum drips down on it, keeping the other open. He fucks himself dry, little white beads spilling out of his tip to fall on your cheeks.

"Mmh, fuck, so pretty..." Jimin's eyes linger on your face, stroking himself distractedly as his cock softens in his hand. You retract your tongue back in your mouth, watching him pick up his phone from the chair.

He stops the recording and goes to take a photo vertically, cupping your chin to make you face the camera correctly. He smiles behind his phone, thumb hovering over the button. You hear the capturing sound two times before he's starting another recording.

He lets go of your chin to collect his cum on his fingers that was dripping down to your eye, bringing his digits to your lips. You can then open your eyelid, parting your lips slightly for him to insert his index and middle finger in. You lick them clean, tasting him on your tongue. It's salty, but nothing really repulsive as you thought it would be.

He pulls out of your mouth, giving your cheek a slight slap. You feel the wetness of your saliva on it. Jimin throws his phone away on his bed when he's finished with the video, stuffing himself back into his jeans. He gets up from you and helps you wipe the remains of his cum on your face.

You don't move until he dresses you in one of his t-shirts, your body completely drowned in it. You go pee and when you get out of the bathroom, he envelops you in his strong arms, bringing you back to bed.

He hugs you tightly against his naked chest, laying his head on your chest in a really intimate manner. "You won't tell anyone? Please," you whisper and he elevates his head from you, looking at you with a serious expression.

He answers nothing, instead he lays on his side and pulls you closer. He strokes your hair gently as you listen to his heartbeat, mind empty. You fall asleep eventually, only to wake up the next day, leaving in a hurry to your own dorm to prepare yourself for another day of university.

You are sitting on a bench in the university's baseball field, doing homework once again. Jimin is always glancing at you from where he is on the field, throwing the ball at Taehyung for him to hit with the bat he's holding.

Taehyung and Jungkook are changing places regularly, one or the other being the hitter. Seokjin is monitoring the two youngest, giving them tips or correcting the way they are positioned since he's the most experienced, being the baseball team's captain.

Priya is beside you, glued to her phone, probably texting Namjoon, the guy she's seeing at the moment. A gym addict, you remember her telling you and also apparently Seokjin's good friend from another campus.

Even though you're focused on your work, you still feel Jimin's eyes on you and it scares you to think that he might have told everyone about you two. He didn't because no one has addressed it, but there's a doubt, a little voice in your head telling you that he didn't respect your wish to keep it a secret.

If your friends know it, your parents, even the whole school... you have no idea how you will manage it. It doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but you just don't want this kind of information to follow you for life. Jimin isn't the type of guy you want to be associated with.

Despite the sweet nicknames he calls you, his devilish smile that makes butterflies erupt in your tummy, his insanely pretty face, his soft voice that makes you shiver, his plump pink lips browsing your skin, his beautiful hands gripping your thighs, his hot cum painting your face, how he's so gentle but has the evilest intentions at the same time.

Despite all of those things, you don't want him. You really don't. But he does.

The time passes as the boys' laughters fill the air, the positions changing; Priya talking with Taehyung, Seokjin and Jungkook bickering, Jimin making fun of them and glancing your way when his attention drifts off of his friends.

You sigh when you have to get back to your dorm by yourself, your unfaithful friend too swamped by a boy to realize you're still there. You collect your things, laptop in its cushioned case and notes back into its assigned binder.

You think you can sneak out of the baseball field without anyone noticing, but you're so wrong to even assume he doesn't have his eyes set on you.

Outside the field, you stop walking when a familiar voice calls you. "Where are you going?" You turn around, only to be met with, evidently, Jimin.

You shrug, glimpsing behind you where the university's building is. "To the dorms..." You answer, not too sure why you sound hesitant. It's not like you need his permission to go back to your room. It's late at night anyway, and you don't want to get bit by mosquitoes.

He closes the distance between you two, stepping ever so slowly, as if to tease you, to chase you. No need to go faster, he knows you'll stay there, frozen on the spot.

"You can go back with the others," you say, frowning as you want him to leave you alone. You don't voice this wish, though and you're lucky you don't because he doesn't like being rejected, especially by you.

His gaze darkens as he narrows his eyes at you and you're scared for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifts up into a smirk. "No, I'm coming with you," he decides and you know this isn't a proposition, it's a statement.

But you're not okay with this. So you back away slightly, still facing him, breath quickening. He notices your reluctance and he frowns, a scowl on his face. You keep moving back and he keeps moving forward, that is until you have enough and run in the university's direction.

Your sudden move takes Jimin by surprise and you hear him calling your name, clearly annoyed with you. He asks himself if he should run after you because if he does people will see him and that's not something he wants. But he knows you're going to the dorms, so he just has to arrive there before you do.

You soon make your way to the university residence building, relieved Jimin didn't follow you. You thought he would have, but it seems like he didn't want to bother running after you. You nonetheless look behind you from time to time, verifying in case he did in fact follow you, but you don't see him.

A little voice tells you how unfortunate it is that he didn't chase after you. Is it because he doesn't like you anymore? For some twisted reason, this idea disappoints you. Did he realize you weren't as interesting as he thought you would be or does he think you were shitty in bed? That would be quite humiliating and sad.

You liked the attention he gave you.

When you step into the corridor your room is located in, your eyes widen and your heart almost explodes as you see Jimin casually waiting in front of your door. You didn't expect him to be there, how did he even enter without you noticing?

You feel like a poor little bunny who has nowhere to go, damned to be eaten alive by the big, bad wolf slowly approaching its prey. But the difference between you and the bunny is that you're secretly turned on to be tracked down by Jimin.

He pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on when he perceives you walking in. His smile doesn't leave his beautiful plump lips, his mischievous eyes scanning your little body from head to toe.

As he reaches you, you finally come out of your torpor. "Jimin," you warn him and he stops, inches away from you. "I'm not... doing this. I don't want to."

He doesn't look convinced at all. Who are you trying to fool now, you or him? It's better not to be him because he's not the kind to give up on something he really wants.

He tilts his head, looking at you curiously, the expression he does when something intrigues him. "Don't act like this now, sweetie," he purrs, closing the gap between you two. Your breath is caught in your throat, avoiding his gaze at all cost. You're trapped between him and the wall. "You wouldn't like to have your pretty body leaked, hm, baby? It wouldn't really be a secret anymore..."

He touches your cheek with his hand, caressing the side of your face with his index finger. You shudder, pressing your books tightly against your chest. "W-What? I thought- I thought..." You stutter out, heart thumping against your rib cage.

"It doesn't matter what you thought, sweet thing." His words come out husky, his hot breath fanning across your face, making goosebumps run all over your skin. "It's okay if you don't want to, but you have to know that there'll be consequences," he almost sings this threat to you as he sounds so angelic and you're more and more scared by him. Scared in a way that makes your clit throb.

He cages you between the wall and him, pressing his body against yours feverishly til it makes him ill. Your two breaths intertwine, mingling together to create a compact atmosphere where it's hard for you to even think straight.

"The videos.... oh, and that pic," he reminds you and the events are quick at coming back into your mind. "Are all saved in my phone, only for me to look at... and believe me, I must have replayed them at least ten times, if not more," he informs you. "And, God, I was so hard just looking at you, baby."

You can't help but clench your thighs, imagining him with his phone in one hand, his cock in the other.

"Jimin," you breathe out quietly, coming out like a whisper, the sound of your voice making him focus on you. He glances down at your face, watching your lips parting to pronounce your next word. "Stop..."

Though he might have been soft before, you rejecting him again when you're clearly turned on makes him mad. He grabs your wrist and you gasp when he pulls you with him, bringing you to his room instead of yours.

You try to free yourself from his grip, but you fail miserably, almost tripping over your feet. Some people look at you weirdly, no one really stops to ask what's going on. He drags you to his door and opens it hurriedly, closing it when you're both inside.

He takes your books and your backpack away from you, putting them on the ground. You observe him in awe, you're completely in shock. He removes his baseball jacket swiftly as well as his shoes and pushes you on his bed. Your body bounces back on the mattress, Jimin crawling up to you like a hungry feline.

Heat floods through your abdomen to your core, setting your whole body on fire while your panties are getting wet as he's about to do whatever he wants to you. You squirm under him, but not because you want to get away - your body is aching to be touched, to be pleasured.

Face to face, he presses his body against yours until there's no gap separating you. He is insistent and you feel like suffocating, but you'll survive, very much so. Jimin is giving you his breath and you're giving him yours.

His t-shirt hangs loosely on him, the ends of the sleeves stopping just over his elbows. Some kisses are placed on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. It tingles sweetly, your stomach doing a flip, butterflies partying in your belly, pussy mewling. You feel everything at once, and intensively.

You don't protest when he removes your crop top, letting your breasts out, nipples hardening from the cold air hitting them. He plays with them for a brief moment, pinching and pulling on the little buds, before lowering down on you. Your mouth hangs open, not expecting him to do that to you.

He pulls your shoes off your feet, letting them fall on the floor beside his bed. He eyes your little white socks, deciding it'd be better if you keep them on. Due to your position and the fact that you're wearing a skirt, Jimin can see your cotton panties from his point of view. He smirks, looking at the wet patch over your cunt.

He passes an arm under your back, pulling the zipper of your skirt down and he rips the material off of you. You gasp at his brutality, but you don't think about it furthermore as he hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear, sliding it down your legs despite your little whines of embarrassment.

Your femininity is now very exposed to his insatiable eyes, gazing at it like a hungry man. Settled between your legs, he passes them over his shoulders, holding the back of your thighs so they stay open for him.

"Hmm, always so pretty... And it's all for me," he licks his lips, pink tongue peeking through them. He pushes your thighs up against your chest so he has a better access to your cunt, already glistening in your arousal. Only your feet are touching his shoulders, now. You wish for a moment that he was shirtless, and you're too shy to ask him to remove his t-shirt.

Your meaty thighs are squished over your lower stomach and you won't lie that the position is hard to keep. You're not that flexible, and surely not athletic, unlike Jimin. You whimper a little bit, feeling his breath on your wet pussy, making you shiver.

"Hold your legs up for me, sweetie," he softly commands, giving you an appreciative smile when you sneak your hands under your knees. "Good girl," he praises and you can feel your clit pulsating at how badly his words affect you.

He places his arms around your thighs and takes a hold of your hips. The cool metal of his rings brushes against your skin and you notice the chain around his neck dangling, the pendant bumping into the bed covers.

Jimin finally focuses on your cunt and when he blows on it, you can't hold in your moan. He's happy to hear your reactions, loving how you're so sensitive, how your puffy clit begs him to suck on it. But the first thing he does is kiss your inner thighs delicately while caressing your body along your curves with his veiny hands.

Then, his lips get closer to your warmth, impatiently waiting for him. He wraps his lips around your bud of nerves and suckles on it, eliciting quiet moans from you. It's gentle and you've never felt better, your fingers are in no comparison to his skillful mouth.

He sucks a bit more and your face contorts in pleasure. You try to glance at Jimin, but your position only allows you to see a fluffy head of black hair buried between your legs. The view is so filthy and you become drunk off his mouth, loving what's happening, barely remembering that he threatened you to leak the videos of you two having sex.

The sucks turn into licks, his wet muscle sliding from your hole up to your swollen clit, parting your pussy lips apart in the process. He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue, circling around it, just dipping in slightly enough to make you needy.

Before you can ask for more, he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud, moving his muscle from side to side rapidly. You moan out, feeling delicious tingles in the pit of your stomach. You grip your thighs harder, pussy clenching and begging to be fucked by Jimin's huge dick with such eagerness.

"Oh, my God, Jimin!" Your legs start to shake and his tongue gives you an orgasm, arching your back as he keeps stimulating your clit until you're off your high.

You sense him collecting your cream with his tongue, dipping into your folds. You let go of your thighs, letting them fall by your sides. You try to catch your breath as Jimin is still nuzzled in your pussy as if he's licking the plate after eating his meal, leaving nothing behind.

"Please, s-stop..." You cry out, being overstimulated by him. You attempt to push his head away, but he doesn't nudge a bit. "It's too much."

He looks up at you, leaning on his elbows. "Stop complaining or I'll fuck this pussy with my cock without feeling any pity," he warns you and you give up, but you still whine weakly.

When you think he's finished, he penetrates you with two fingers at once, sliding in so easily with how wet you are. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, your own fingers are certainly not as big as Jimin's. They might be small for a man, but in no way that means they're the same size as yours.

"Shh, my sweet baby, it's okay. Relax, you're so tense..." He says, face hovering over your cunt as he slowly pumps his digits into you. He keeps them straight the first few strokes, but he starts to scissor your insides as well. You feel your pussy expanding around his fingers, it's a really unfamiliar sensation, but since it's Jimin, you slowly chill down.

He hooks his fingers perfectly inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot. The overstimulation is replaced by this new pleasure, much more intense and significant than the other. He expertly moves his two digits at a regular pace, holding your thigh up with his free hand.

Your juices are dripping down your ass, the feeling kind of uncomfortable, but Jimin fingering you makes you forget about everything around you except for him.

His palm is facing up, colliding with your clit each time he's knuckles deep into your messy cunt. He hums pleasantly when he feels you clench around him, seeing that you're having a good time. He lowers his head again and you immediately grasp his hair in your fist when he nips at your sensitive clit.

He flattens his palm since his chin is in the way and instead pets your spot inside of you with the pads of his fingers. It's sweet and almost magical. You feel like he's munching on your pussy, opening and closing his mouth over your clit, tongue viciously licking the little bud. It's slow, it's perfect, it's everything your body needs. That you need.

You let out soft moans, pulling on his black locks, completely in love with his mouth until it leaves you again. You would have complained, despite his warning of earlier, but he literally finger fucks you and it cuts you off instantly from saying anything.

He doesn't miss a beat, constantly rubbing your magic spot, making you lift your back from the mattress. You twist the bedsheets between your fingers, a fire in your belly, growing more and more with Jimin's ministrations.

"What the-!" You never say the end of your sentence, frowning and closing your eyes as you let the pleasure of another orgasm take over you. Jimin never stops, gaze shifting between your face and your pussy regularly to catch your reactions. "Jimin, wha-what's... Oh, God!" You scream, and everything happens so fast.

He pumps his fingers in and a clear liquid floods out of your cunt, in droplets first, but then bigger. You don't see what's happening, but an intense pleasure rips through you and your body is shaking like a leaf.

"Oh, fuck," you hear Jimin cursing, almost moaning after. His rhythm slows down, more fluid coming out. "You're such a girl good, shit, it's so fucking hot," he growls and stops his movements, hand cupping your cunt, patting it gently.

There's a wet puddle under your ass and you blink several times, coming back to Earth, feeling totally knocked out. "Jiminie..." You whine out, looking down at him.

The front of his t-shirt is soaked and some droplets fall from his chin. Immediately, you feel your cheeks heating up, so embarrassed from what you did. You squirted all over him to the point of wetting his clothes. But he looks nowhere disgusted, rather turned on than anything else.

He laughs, though it's not to mock you at all. He's just so happy, so fucking in love.

"I'm sorry..." You apologize shyly, but Jimin shakes his head, crawling back up to you.

"No, baby, no..." He coos, pampering your cheeks and forehead in feathery kisses. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It felt good, am I right?" He asks and you nod, feeling particularly ashamed. "Of course it was, I should have filmed it... Well, maybe next time," he sighs contentedly, smiling adorably.

He kisses you on the lips and after that intense orgasm, you start to feel guilty. Embarrassed, ashamed. Not because you stained his t-shirt, but because you liked it. A lot.

It makes you want to repeat it solely with Jimin. Forever and ever. But you can't, not again, not after you told yourself you wouldn't.

For Jimin, it was everything he's ever wanted in his life. You and him in the same bed, having sex, enjoying yourselves. It couldn't be better, really. He'll do anything it takes to keep you with him and believe him when he tells you there's going to be a next time.

Nothing will stop him from having what he wants, not even you.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jimin drabble #jimin imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #bts x reader

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wintertime-in-june · 24 days

Text

Build-a-Colonel

Surveying the area. A common pastime of many KorTac employees. Checking out an environment before a big raid.

The EuroCity Mall, Austria, a favourite rendezvous for kids and adults alike.

You walked next to the Colonel, not in your military gear but in your civilian clothes, scouting out the vicinity. He was going to be the battering ram, the first through the main doors, and you, you were going to be crawling through the vents, making your way to the hidden mass weapon store, the only one on the team small enough to do it.

Other KorTac soldiers were swarming the place as you two walked, mapping out their own routs whilst inconspicuously perusing the shelves.

The illegal weapons trade that had been going on for months was soon to come to an end.

"Ooo, I didn't know they had a Build-a-Bear here!" You say to König with a smile, holding onto his large arm, looking like the lovely married couple you were... pretending to be.

You can't say you didn't like it. To be quite honest you were loving pretending to date the Colonel... even if it was only going to be for a few hours and König, he didn't hate it.

He looking down at his adorable not wife as she pulled him towards the store, looking at the latest collaboration they had on display in the windows.

He sighed, smiling lightly, he could get used to this, having a pretty woman on his arm, laughing at his jokes, looking at him as though he mattered... just looking at him to be honest.

"I always wanted to go to here as a kid." He said with a chuckle.

You look up at him, big doe eyes gleaming. It was getting more and more difficult for him to tell if this was an act or not... curse his inexperience with women.

"Did you ever get to go?" You ask, tilting your head to the side.

He shook his head.

"My mother sent out invitations for my birthday party, but no-one wanted to come. I didn't have many friends growing up, I've always been this... big. Too scary for ze other kids."

He tilted his head attempting to look indifferent and brush it off.

You literally thought you were about to cry.

"When's your birthday?"

He thought for a moment.

"...7 months away."

"Well..." you think for a moment, searching for an excuse, "well, it's going to be today, okay?"

He looks at you with slight confusion but doesn't fight back as you pull him into the store.

A few heads turn at the sheer size of him, but you pay it no mind, you are on a mission... and not the one you came in for.

"Choose your bear!" You say with a smile looking up at your not Husband.

"Schatz... it's okay really, I am too old for bears, I-"

"I said, choose your bear!" You repeated like a television announcer, showcasing the bears.

"Ooo, this one's so soft and he looks just like you." You say picking up a fluffy blonde one.

He rolled his eyes playfully at your determination, picking up a bear.

"And zis one looks like you." He said with a slight smile holding another fluffy bundle of fabric.

"We can make each other!" You said, beginning to smile broadly.

He didn't fight you, enjoying your excitement as you got one of the employees to help with hearts and stuffing.

He was a bit reluctant to do the dance and kiss the heart but he didn't mind so much after you gave the little stuffed heart a kiss first. Talking about how the bears need both parent's love.

His favourite part was picking out the clothes, chuckling as you tried to recreate his military look. He was actually very good at picking out your style, it seemed he had paid attention to your weekend attire around base.

When it came time to pay you put your card on the scanner and he was not pleased.

"You can't pay for your own birthday!" You say in protest.

"But it's not even my birthday!"

"It is today!" You say in rebuttal.

He couldn't stay mad at you, that sweet little smile. No-one had ever done something this spontaneous, this thoughtful, this selfless for him before... he wished you really were his wife.

A soft smile remained on your face throughout the rest of your walk around the mall. A smile that he couldn't help but steal glances at periodically, thank goodness for his height or he might have been caught.

Upon getting back to the base you each went to your own rooms to get changed.

Later in the evening you wanted to have a bear reveal.

König had just gotten back from dinner in the canteen, he was walking about his room, going about his evening tasks when he heard a soft knock on the door.

There stood you, box in hand, wanting to come in. You looked so precious in your little pyjamas, he feared he was becoming obsessed.

"I present to you, drum roll please, Colonel Junior!" You announce holding the bear up to him.

You were both sat in front of each other, cross legged on his bed. You were cross legged, he was trying to the best of his abilities.

A beat of silence passed, you thought he was just in awe of the bear... potentially.

"That is not me." He says, completely stone cold, deadpan.

Your face falls for a second. Did he not like going to Build-a-Bear with you? You felt your bottom lip tremble a little. Was it all just an act for the undercover surveying? How could you have been so stupid... You really thought the Colonel wanted to become your friend?

"He does not have a mask!" König finishes.

"Come on, I have some supplies in my office."

As he began to get up off the bed, the mattress squeaking under his weight you just remained seated. Then you snapped back to reality, quickly manoeuvring to follow him as a wave of relief washed over you, so he really did love Colonel bear.

The two of you spend the evening bleaching a mini mask made of an old t-shirt for the bear, getting the tear stain design just perfect.

You laugh about having dual custody of your children and König played along too.

Since the bears were made, the two of you brought them over to each other's barracks every evening. No matter how difficult training was that day, it was your little escape, smiling with each other as you watched a movie, had a tea party, played dress-up and more.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that these little play dates were not for the sake of the children, but an excuse to hang out with each other.

Only when the two of you sat on the Colonel's bed, bears in your laps, watching a movie, did he finally lean over and kiss you as the credits rolled by.

He had been waiting all movie to do so, finally, building up the courage by the end.

The kiss is long, but not rough, just calm, pleasant. Eventually the two of you pull away, gazing into each other's eyes.

"Not in front of the children." You say giggling a little, breaking eye contact and covering your bear's eyes with your hand.

He chuckled lightly but not for long as you leaned in this time, your lips meeting his once more.

He had finally gotten his dream come true... and he wasn't thinking of the Build-a-Bear.

#WinterTime #könig fluff #konig fluff #konig x y/n #konig x you #könig x y/n #könig x you #cod konig #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #könig call of duty #konig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig cod #könig x reader

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angelicsoka · 3 months

Text

BLIND DATE, j. drysdale

part two <3

word count | 758 words

pairings | jamie drysdale x single mother!hughes!reader

summary | you were never one for dating, especially when trevor is the one setting them up. but one date can’t hurt, right?

warnings | talk of pregnancy and terrible ex boyfriends. not proofread. one use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | thank you for 200 followers! i can't believe people actually enjoy my writing but here we are lmao. i’ve had this idea sitting in my drafts for a while but i finally decided to sit down and write it. its pretty short but i’m not against writing a part two :) anyway, enjoy!!

dating was never really your thing, at least not since your last boyfriend left you pregnant and alone in a city you were unfamiliar with. your ex had convinced you to move from michigan to california, something your family tried to warn you against, but you were stubborn. finding out you were pregnant was an accident, a routine checkup. what was supposed to be a wonderful thing turned terrible quick. your ex was angry, he wanted nothing to do with a kid. he gave you an ultimatum: get an abortion or we are over. but, as stated before, you were stubborn and had already to start to fall in love with the idea of being a mom. so, he left and you chose to stay in anaheim, a difficult decision but your ego was already hurt and proving your parents right was not what you wanted to do.

so, here you were, the mother of a two year old little girl who was your whole world. she was your moon and stars, the light of your life. it was you and her against the world, and you were content with that. that was until trevor zegras decided to intervene. “one date.” he begged, “he's a good guy, you’ll like him!” you had simply rolled your eyes, but after he offered to babysit for you whenever you wanted, you faltered, agreeing to the date.

now, you were sat in a fancy restaurant awaiting the arrival of trevor’s friend. she felt out of place, her dress not nearly as elegant as the women that surrounded her. she checked her phone once more, ready to leave when a man in a suit rushed over, a hurried look on his face. “sorry, i’m sorry! trevor wouldn't stop yapping.” you stood up, smoothing out your dress before offering him your hand to shake.

“it's all good, you must be jamie?” he nodded, shaking your hand. his smile made your heart flutter slightly, bringing a smile to grace your own lips. “y/n, it's a pleasure.” the anxious pit in your stomach began to settle as you sat, feeling comfortable in the presence of jamie.

“trevor didn’t tell me much about you.” jamie smiled sheepishly.

“guess we’re in the same boat then.” you smiled, taking a sip from your water. “tell me, jamie, how is it that a handsome guy like you is resorting to blind dates to find a girl?” you questioned, a teasing look in your eye. jamie blushed, ducking his head slightly.

“well, hockey takes up most of my time and trevor takes up the rest of it.” you laughed at that, “it's like wrangling around a small child.”

“oh, i know that feeling all to well. my daughter is great at matching his energy.” jamie did well in hiding his shock, masking it with confusion, but you had learned to pick up on the small cues. “he didn’t tell you?”

“no, uh, he wasn’t very forthcoming with information.” you nodded, unlocking your phone and pulling up a picture of your daughter.

“this is my daughter, isla. she has enough energy to outdo trevor, but she’s my world and i wouldn’t change a thing about her.” jamie smiled at the photo of isla who was wearing an elsa dress, her mouth covered in chocolate.

“she is very cute.” jamie looked to you, “just like her mom.” you blushed, laughing slightly. “how old is she?”

“just turned two, here’s her with my brothers at her frozen themed party.” you swiped to the photo of isla opening her presents with the help of your brothers.

“is that jack wearing a… tiara?” jamie questioned, pointing to jack who had a crown, which was too small, on his head.

you giggled, swiping to another photo, “yeah well, quinn and luke were wearing tutus but they attacked me when i tried to take a picture, but isla has them wrapped around her finger.” you showed jamie the photo of your daughter in her elsa dress, quinn and luke wearing matching tutus. “they don’t know i have this photo.” jamie laughed, a sound you were already growing to love. you closed your phone, setting it beside you.

“anyway, tell me about you.” and he did, and you listened intently, never once losing interest. what you thought would be a boring date, had turned into one of the best dates you had ever been on. you exchanged numbers before you went your separate ways, another date already in the works.

who knew trevor would make a decent matchmaker?

#angelicsoka #nhl imagine #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale x hughes!sister #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader

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senualothbrok · 6 months

Text

Enough

Summary: You agreed to help Astarion with the Rite of Profane Ascension, but you can't watch him go through with it. You interrupt the ritual, and Astarion turns on you. Now, you must deal with the aftermath of your actions.

Word count: 3.6k

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Angst. Trauma and recovery. A very angry Astarion.

AO3 link

This is the first fanfic I have written for about 20 years. I should be working on my novel, but this story honestly possessed me. I hope someone out there reads and enjoys this! If not, it was therapeutic and cathartic to write it.

-----------------------------------------------------

You have heard it a thousand times. The tales and the histories, all the songs you have sung. You are a bard, after all, and this story is as old and worn as your heart. Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.

You know this, and you have seen it. You have seen it twist kind men into savages, transform wary women into beasts. Your own family had suffocated you under its clutches, leveraging your gifts and talents for ever more power and influence. Stripping you bare, squeezing out every drop they could get from you. You were their very own song bird, pushed about and paraded until your fingers were raw and throat was hoarse, to grant them entry into the best parties and social circles. But you were never enough. You never sang sweetly enough, or got large enough crowds. Not enough people knew you. You should have been prettier, more alluring. All the things they made you do, but you never did enough. It was never enough.

When you had escaped from them, you had vowed you would never be like them. You had promised yourself you would never become the thing you fought against. You would be different. Better. You would be good.

And yet.

You are standing in Cazador’s palace. Blood spatters the smooth ivory of Astarion’s skin. In the nightmarish hue of the ritual chamber, he glows a strange green. His crimson eyes are all fear and desperation.

“I can do this, but I need your help.”

In that moment, you cannot say no. If it were anyone else, you would refuse. There have been many conversations with Astarion - around the campfire, in his tent, even as you walked around the labyrinth of Cazador’s living hell. You have talked to him at length about this moment. You have listened as he has confessed guilt and need and hesitation and rage. You have been kind and patient, always careful not to criticise him, not to push back too much, not to hurt him. You have been good. He must make his own decision, you have been telling yourself. He has suffered enough.

So you open your mind to him, because he asks you to. You feel his frenzied hunger as he devours the sight of every scar on his back, as though their cruelty is now beauty. You watch his features which you have come to know so well. You have seen them in sleep, in battle, in laughter, in pain. You have seen them shrouded and masked, bare and open. You watch now as they contort into something that you recognise from so many other faces and times. And as you watch, you can barely hear Cazador’s deafening screams, or register the way his mangled mess writhes and gushes. All you can see is Astarion’s widening smile as he carves at Cazador’s back, his eyes dilating like sinkholes.

You think it, even as he whisks away Cazador’s mutilated body like a rag doll. Even when Astarion slams the staff on the ground and everything around you blazes red as the blood of his convulsing siblings and the seven thousand spawn about to be slaughtered. Even when Gale and Karlach cry out at Astarion to stop, that this is a mistake, that the cost is too great. Even then, you think to yourself: this is what he wants. It is his choice. It is his right.

But in the scarlet haze, you are remembering. You are thinking of his trembling voice when he promised a broken husk called Sebastian, just moments ago, that he would free him. You think of the way his soft eyes glistened when he had thanked you and clasped your hand, stunned with the realisation that he was not just a thing to be used. You feel the crushing weight of Vellioth and Cazador and the decaying dungeons and centuries upon centuries of madness and terror. And you remember the tenderness with which he had looked at you, not days ago, believing the power of the ritual would keep you both safe. That he would protect you with it.

“I can feel their power flowing into me!”

You stare at him, spreadeagled, monstrous.

Something has begun to well inside you, like a cracking of ice, a convulsion of tears. In that whispering, you remember the promise you made yourself all those years ago. And you know, from a deep and tattered place within you, that that promise is greater than your yearning for his love.

The blade springs from your hand on its own. You watch it sing through the air and hit its perfect note in Cazador’s maimed gut. Astarion and his siblings crumple to the floor. The crimson mist lifts, and in the silence you know, with the certainty of death, that you have lost him.

You say something, but you know it is meaningless. Nothing can repair the mistake you have made. You could have refused to help him when he asked. You could have reasoned with him, urged him to stop and think. You could have told him, from the start, that you could not go through with it. And now, you have kept your promise to yourself, but not to the man you love.

When he rises from his knees and turns to you, it is the face of a stranger that you see.

“I was so close. I could have had it all, but you took everything from me.”

Hatred hardens in his every word. And then, a tide of despair.

“Cazador won after all. I’ll never escape the hell he built.”

You cannot bear it. Your failure rips through you, and you want to reach out to him, to beg and plead and weep. But you just stand there.

He looks down at the staff in his hand.

“And if I can’t escape, then no one can.”

He splits the staff on his knee. It makes such a small sound as it splinters, but it echoes through you like an avalanche. It is the sound of seven thousand spawn being condemned to death. It is the sound of their eternal suffering. And it is all because of you. The horror and guilt erupts inside you.

It happens so fast after that. There is no time to think, to feel, to act. There is the glint of a dagger raised. You are knocked back, and a searing pain slices through your shoulder as you stare up at bared fangs looming over you. Your limbs are heavy with shock, and suddenly you feel a surge of heat and the great arc of Karlach’s war hammer over you. You hear Gale shout out a spell, and you watch as Astarion topples to the side, frozen except for the furious twitching of his eyes.

“Don’t!” you hear yourself shout. “Please, stop!”

Karlach and Gale rush to your side, cradling you up, fussing over your shoulder. But you do not feel it. You do not really feel anything. All you can do is look from them back to Astarion, pleading, but you are not sure what for.

---

“You can release his hold now.”

You are back at camp, and you have recovered your voice. For a long time, you could not speak. Shadowheart and Halsin tended to your arm, speaking soothing words over you. Gale and Karlach came to sit with you, their faces creased with concern. Wyll, Lae’zel and Jaheira stood at a distance, arguing in hushed voices. All the while, you stared into the distance, thinking of the hatred in Astarion’s gaze, and everything you had done to deserve it.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gale says, frowning.

“We can’t keep him like that forever.”

“The man turned on us. He tried to kill you.”

You look into Gale’s eyes. There is warmth there, streaked with pity.

“Can you blame him?”

Gale scoffs. “Yes, I can.” Then he pauses. His voice softens. “Well, perhaps in the circumstances, in the heat of the moment…” He shakes his head. “But he truly would have killed you, had Karlach and I not intervened. And that is inexcusable, after everything you – all of us - have been through with him. After everything you have done for him.”

Your vision blurs and stings.

“I fucked up, Gale. How could I have fucked up so royally? I should never have let him start the ritual. I should never have agreed with it. I’ve broken him. Seven thousand innocent people will die in agony because of me. Because I was…”

You are not used to burdening others with your emotions. You give and not take, even when you have nothing. When you are nothing. But now, you are afraid that you will break.

“…Because I failed.”

Without hesitation, Gale lays a hand on yours. It is a such a kind gesture that it chokes you. You have always been the one to look after others, to give them what they need. That is your role. It is what you exist for. If you cannot do that, what are you good for?

“Those things were never your responsibility, my dear friend. They were never your burdens to carry.”

“But he trusted me.”

“That does not mean that you must give him everything, or watch him destroy thousands of people and himself.”

You ball your fists. “Then I should have told him that, from the start. But I went along with it-”

“Because you love him.”

You have not spoken about this with Gale or anyone else. You know it is common knowledge that you and Astarion are entangled, but you have always wanted to hide the love you feel for him away. You have always known that whatever it was that lay between you was fragile. Astarion himself was not sure what you were.

Attachment does not come easily to you. You know that if you give people what they need, there is a chance that they will stay. But there is also a chance that they will snap their heads one day and no longer want what you have to offer. And then, they will go.

You have always tried to guard yourself against the pain of that departure. Even with Astarion.

“Many a mistake has been made for love,” Gale continues. “I understand this better than most.”

“This is a monumental fuck up,” you breathe. “Not a simple mistake.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Do you really want to start a competition about the magnitude and impact of our mistakes? Because if so, I believe that I would be a clear winner, and some others in our camp may also be worthy competitors.”

You are too weary to laugh. Too broken.

“Besides, I am sure if we knock our considerably enriched heads together, we can find a way to open those dungeons and release those prisoners. Especially with such a range of talented and well-resourced allies to draw on.”

You can see the questions taking shape in Gale’s head already. You give him a weak smile.

“You are only human, my friend. I know you try to be better than any of us, but even you are permitted to make mistakes.”

When he clasps you tightly to his chest, you let yourself rest into it. You want so badly to believe he is right, but you are not sure you can.

---

As you approach Astarion, you gesture behind you. You know the rest of them are all watching, wary and ready to strike at the faintest sign of danger. But you stand them down, and they linger at a respectful distance.

Released from Gale’s hold, Astarion hunches over slightly, like a cat backed into a corner. He knows he is outnumbered and vulnerable. He does not lunge towards you. His arms lie flat against his sides, his hands free of weapons. His fangs are hidden behind the tight line of his lips.

“What you did to me is worse than staking me. You might as well finish me off now.”

Every word is a cut. You flinch at each one, but you do not avert your gaze from his. Any gentleness, affection, and truth in those eyes is gone, locked behind blood-red walls. And in his abject contempt, you find a kind of freedom.

If he has already left, then you need not please him. If you are not enough, then it does not matter what you say. You have lost him already. He does not love you.

So you say what you wish you had said, from the moment that he showed you who he was, the moment you fell in love with him.

“The ritual would have killed you, your siblings, and seven thousand innocents.”

“Spare me,” he snarls. “You nodded and cooed at me, like you understood me, like you would help me. ‘I’m here for you, Astarion. I’ll help you Astarion. Tell me what you need and I’ll be there, Astarion.’ You fucking liar. You godsdamned hypocrite. You never understood me. You never wanted to help me.”

His fury is like a lash, but the pain is sobering. You brace yourself against it.

“I never said I would help you become Cazador, or let you kill thousands of people for power.”

“Please.” His laugh is vicious. “I told you from the start what I wanted. If you didn’t see that, then you’re blind. Delusional. A self-righteous idiot, living in a fantasy.”

“You wanted to be free, Astarion. To be safe.”

“You never wanted me to be free,” he seethes. “You liked me weak and broken, so I could come to you on my knees, and you could nod and smile and promise to fix me. Your own personal project, kept on a leash like a little puppy. Cuddly, harmless Astarion, healing from his hurts, all thanks to you. My saviour.”

Behind you, you can hear voices erupting and subsiding, a scuffle of shifting feet. You are grateful when no one interjects or rushes forward. This is for you and Astarion alone. It is your punishment to bear, and his truth to hear.

“You took all that power away from me,” he hisses. “It wasn’t your choice to make. It was my decision. You’re worse than Cazador.”

The words wound you like arrows, but you half expect them. You have called yourself worse things.

“Cazador would have just compelled me not to do the ritual. But you gave me a taste of what I wanted, then ripped it away from me. You’re the cruellest bitch I’ve ever known.”

You do not care that hot tears stream down your cheeks, and that your voice trembles. You let yourself say what needs to be said, not what you think he wants to hear.

“You’re right.” You take a step towards him. “I should never have let you do it. I went along with it, when I should have pushed back. But I wanted you to feel you always had someone on your side. Someone who understood. I wanted you to feel loved.”

His disgust does not deter you anymore.

“You think that this is all you are. You can’t see beyond it. What was done to you. What he made you do to others. But it isn’t. It never was. You were always strong. You can be more than what happened to you. You are more than what happened to you.”

“Like you?” he sneers. “A hero? Someone so chained to other people’s approval that you’re lost without a saving mission? That’s what you so desperately want to see when you look at me, isn’t it?”

“No.” You are surprised by the strength of your voice. “Only someone who won’t let thousands of people suffer just because you did.”

Jolts of anger course through him. “You have no idea what I suffered,” he growls. “No idea what I am owed. If you had the faintest idea of it, if you truly loved me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You would be burning the world with me.”

You have listened silently before, when he talked about this. What he deserves after two centuries of agony. His comeuppance. You did not challenge him because you were afraid. Afraid you would offend him. Terrified that he would leave.

“Look around you, Astarion,” you say now. “Look at everyone here. We have all suffered. No, none of us have suffered what you have suffered, and I am so deeply sorry for that. But Cazador is dead and no one else will have to suffer under him. And now, no one will have to suffer under an Ascended either.”

A snide sound of disbelief. “You are so full of bullshit I can hardly breathe from the stench.”

Your tadpole rages, ramming into his mind. You expect the resistance of loathing, but he does not fight. He allows you in. And for the first time, you show him. You let him see him your parents, and your pain, and everything that was done to you. You open yourself up, the masks you put on that you recognise in him, the performances you too are familiar with in the economy of survival. You show him your promise to yourself, and your choices, and the failures you carry around with you like a noose.

He glares at you after it is over, but you think there may be less hatred in his eyes than there was a moment before.

“Why did you show me that?”

It is easier, now that there is nothing to hide.

“Because if we all burned the world because of our suffering, there would be nothing left. And because you said you wanted something real.”

He seems backfooted that you mention it. His first moment of honesty. Your first moment of connection. The beginning of your love.

“This is real, Astarion.” Your gaze is a waterfall. You cannot stop it. “Real love, messy and painful, with a real person who makes mistakes and tells you things that you don’t want to hear. Someone who sees who you really are and who you can be, the worst and the best of you, and still loves you anyway.”

He steps back, his features clenched in spasm. You think of how his hands felt on your skin, cold as ice to the touch, yet warming you inside out like summer sunlight. You remember the lilt of his laughter as you traded jibes and jests under the furs of your tent on cold nights. You breathe in his scent on the air for the last time, those hints of bergamot, rosemary and brandy that you could recognise anywhere. You are already mourning their loss.

“Then I don’t want it,” he spits out. “And I don’t want you.”

And then he leaves.

---

You are alone. You are lying in a clearing a short walk away from camp. It is spring, and the smell of earth and grass hangs around you as the sun streaks through the trees above you. Your ears are drunk with birdsong.

It has been weeks since he left. You would be lying if you said you did not miss him. Sometimes you feel his absence like a presence. It haunts and stalks you, and when the darkness comes, you cling to your pillow in your tent and weep through waves of grief that surge through you like labour pains. But at other times, you find a kind of solace in your solitude. You are not shackled by a desperation for love from a man so broken he is not capable of giving it. You are not trapped by your own brokenness in this yearning, this ache to fill the holes in his heart. And this freedom is worth the pain.

When you had asked Astarion what he wanted, he had never known. And perhaps that had struck you so deeply because you had never known either. You had never truly known what you wanted, who you really were outside of what you could do for others. You thought you were only a thing to be used, a tool to fill someone else’s need, whatever that may be. You could be good at that. You needed to be good at that. If not, you were nothing.

But you are learning. Since he has left, you are learning that you are more than that. You are learning that you can live with your mistakes. That you are enough, just as you are.

You find that you sing now, even when there is no one around. Even when it is not for a performance, or for support in battle. You sing for yourself, and you take pleasure in it, even when your notes are off key and you cannot remember the right words, even when no one is there to praise you or reward you for it. For the first time, you are enjoying your gift for no other reason than that you wish to. It is a gift, and it comes without dread or shame or conditions.

You are humming softly as you stroll back to camp. Scratch greets you with a frenzied tail, and you roll around with him, kneeling as he plasters sloppy kisses all over your face. The simple joy of this dances over the cracks in your heart. When Scratch suddenly stops, you are almost disappointed. You glance in the direction where he has bounded, an ecstatic flurry of delight. Then your eyes catch on silver shining in the sun, two bright rubies on white silk. Your breath halts.

There he is. He is different, but the same. You look at each other. And in that moment, it is enough that there is no hatred in his eyes, which flicker with uncertainty. It is enough that his mouth is not curled into a sneer, and his brow is soft and even. It is enough that you have both survived. You have shown each other who you are, and you are still here.

He reaches his hand out to you, and you take it.

---

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#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion angst #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3

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ratcash-wasgud · 4 months

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Desperately need more of that loser!Mizu content pookie,,,, 😔 have rebel!reader take her out to a party and Mizu being the most socially awkward dumbfuck

But watching reader get along so well with everyone else and dancing,,, need more girlfailure Mizu

・❥・Loser!Mizu Headcanons II・❥・

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

part 1

Heyyyy lovelies!! I got so many positive feedback over the last one I cried a whole ass river. Which I'm really happy about since I lovelovelove this concept. This turned out to be less than a headcanons post, and leans more towards a fanfic territory, but whatervs.

Nsfw, minors dni plspls.

Okay, enjoy ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mizu was never really a party-animal, which was weird to everyone since most people in basketball team were.

She listened to Taigen's stories about the ones he's been though, but it never really got her interested.

The music is always shit at parties too. She'd rather listen to her own playlists at home...or the playlists she made you and stare at the ceiling. Such fun.

She names them corny stuff like Sighs and Whispers.

Currently though, she is listening with wide eyes and lips pushed together as Taigen tells him about this new party he's planning on going. Why is it different than the other parties he brags about? This time, he heard you'll be there too.

She freaks out.

Still, Akemi encourages her to go, and when she says "Maybe you'll be lucky and get to dance with her" is when Mizu's head explodes.

Yeah, she's going to that party.

She need something to wear though. Something cool, something that screams "I can lift 165 pounds, I'd pay on all the dates and your mom would love me".

In the end though she settles on a graphic shirt, cargo shorts and her big ass shoes. Plus her usual shades as the finishing touch. It screams "I'm afraid to touch tits and I play minecraft unironically" instead of her goal, but whatever.

She needs to threathen herself in the mirror, have about three and a half breakdowns, throw her bag against the wall and scream into a pillow before she finally gets going with Taigen and Akemi, plus Ringo as the driver.

The party is loud, the air smells like sweat, smoke and alcohol and the people here are annoying. Mizu has lost her friends like fifty minutes ago since she came back from the bathroom, and since then she has been lingering in a corner, sipping her beer awkwardly.

Why is it so damn hard to enjoy a party anyways? Better question, what is there to enjoy? The lights make her head ache, the alcohol is shitty, people keep throwing joint and cigarette buds on the floor and it's the third time the DJ's playing-

"Glow!!" She hears a familiar voice scream as the song by Snow Wife starts playing, and she finally notices you.

Her breathing stops alltogether, as she almost crushes the beer in her hand. There you are. The first thing she sees are heart shaped sunglasses covering your pretty, pretty eyes. You have a black cropped tube top on with a leather jacket covering your shoulders.

"Fuck me..." Mizu breathes out, and feels her insides tingle. She means it too. She can't tear her eyes away from you, and the way you chug your drink while dancing. There are people around you, mostly other women in revealing outfits, and one or two guys in slutty tanktops. She wants to sooo badly go over there, but her legs won't move. So instead she does the next best thing. She just watches you dance around, and move yourself to the beat. Your body bounces. Jesus, it fucking bounces. Mizu almost throws up. She agressivley chugs down the rest of her drink and heads to the bathroom.

She stands before the mirror for a couple minutes after washing her face with ice cold tap water. "Fucking pussy." She murmurs as she looks at herself in the reflecting surface. "Why can't I just talk to her?" She says, putting her palms on her face, pulling the skin down. "Why was it so fucking easy to talk to her when we first met? 'Bout fucking bugs and shit... And why is to so damn scary now? It's just her! Her and her...fuckin' tits bouncing, and her collarbones, and she's probably sweaty and..." She starts murmuring to herself, feeling the familiar feeling of arousal hit her system. She splashes her face with water again, and marches out of the bathroom.

When she returns to the main area, she doesn't see you anywhere. Fuck! Is it over? Just like that? Did you leave with someone? Ugh.

Suddenly, Akemi appears next to Mizu, and starts dragging her to somehwere. "Mizu! Come, come! I was like, literally looking around for you for the last likkke...two songs. Totally! I was like "woah, she must've gotten lost" or like something." She says, clearly under the infulence of something plus alcohol. Mizu just groans in an annoyed way as she gets dragged into a room that definetly smells like weed.

Great.

Mizu starts grumbling until she spots you. You're sitting there, on the couch, laughing with Taigen and one of his asshole friends. "Mizu!" Taigen grins when she spots her. It's his usual shiteating, smug grin. "I though you went home or something." Akemi sits down on the couch too, dragging her along.

"Shut up." Mizu rolls her eyes as she flops down, being the most grateful woman ever, since her shades hide that she is literally staring at your lips as you put a blunt between them. She then makes eyecontact with you (or she assumes, since you're both wearing sunglasses), and you offer her the blunt with a small, rapsy chuckle.

She never tried weed before...but the aftertaste of you lips are on that thing, so she takes it withouth hesitation. It burns her throat as she inhales, but she keeps a straight face in order to stay nonchalant. But it's so, so hard. She almost squirms around on the couch when your fingers brush against hers as she passes you back the blunt.

"Soooo Mizu," You send a grin her way as you sit down on the armrest, right next to her. You ass is almost touching her arm. "I've never seen you at a party before. I'm glad you're here now though." You giggle.

She desperately wants to say "I only came now because of you!" but she restrains herself. "Uhhh, by the waaay, Mizu!" Akemi starts again, excitedly bouncing next to her. "D'ya know who I saw? Mikio! He's here too." She says with a tone that is supposed to be teasing, but to Mizu it's fucking annoying.

Mikio?! Mikio. Is she fucking serious? The one ex Mizu has, and never wants to fucking see again, is here?

"Whaaa? You guys know Mikio?" You join in, leaning over the back of the couch, arching on the arm rest. "Yah." Akemi responds casually. Don't say it. Don't you fucking say it. "He's Mizu's ex." Fuck.

Mizu sees you process the information, then you let out a deep, throathy laugh. "Are you fucking serious? Haa!" Akemi joins in the giggling too. "Yep. Mizu dated him when she was like...a senior in highschool I think. They were kinda cute though~"

Mizu wants the ground to swallow her whole. Here she is, with the woman she loves and her annyoing ass high friend, talking about her ex, who basically ruined her when they dated. She didn't even like him, it was all comphet, but when he broke up with her, she turned into a beast for weeks, snapping at anyone who she saw.

"Damn. I didn't know Mizu was into guys." You say, and it makes Mizu's blood stop flowing in her veins. Shit shit shit! Do you think she's straight now? Is she losing her already non existent chance?

"Uh, no, I-" Mizu starts but Akemi cuts her off. "Oh, she was very different back then! She was all girly, look, I think I have a picture." Akemi says and digs out her phone. "Wait, n-no-" Mizu beginst to protest but gets cut off by Akemi again. "Here, look! This was at one of their cute lil' picnics under some apple tree or some shit." Akemi shoves her phone in your face, and you lift your heart shaped sunglasses to see it better.

"Holy shit..." You say, as if in shock. "Mizu, is that really you?" You say, eyes wide in surprise and your eyebrows lifted as high as they can go.

"I uh..." Mizu's cheeks burn in shame. She knows that picture. It was taken a couple days before the brutal breakup. She really was different back then. She wore her hair in a high pony, and loved off the shoulder shirts. She hated herself so much back then. She teared up a little, but she was, again, the world's most grateful woman that she decied to wear her shades.

But you weren't stupid. "Akemi, here." You tossed her your phone as you stood up, knowing the girl's first insticnt will be to start taking goofy pictures at a 90 degree angle. She loves leaving those around in other people's phones. You then look at her, and quickly slide down her shades, discovering her tears. "H-hey, give that-" Mizu starts protesting, but it was too late. You were looking into her teary eyes. Before she could react, you place your own heart shaped ones on her face, and put hers on yours. Then with that, you lift the now barely lit blunt and start walking out. "Mizu's coming with me to check on the other's." You say casually, as if to Akemi and the other's who aren't paying attention, but really, it's to her. Mizu follows you outside, and you lead her to a small balcony. The cold air hits her, making her nose turn red right away. You chuckle and inhale a hit from the blunt.

"Needed some fresh air." You murmur and hold the blunt out for her. Mizu feels her heart throb. Did you really just notice her discomfort and pull her out of there? Oh God. It's just like back then...you're acting like you guys known eachother since forever, and she loves it. She slowly takes the blunt, but just looks at it first.

You chuckle. "You don't have to." You say with a grin but Mizu just shrugs and takes a hit. "Thanks." She whispers and you shoot her a smile. Not a grin, or a smirk. A smile.

"If you don't like places like this, why are you here?" You ask. "Because it's obvious you don't. Did Akemi drag you along?" Is Mizu that transparent? Or can you just read people? Well, whatever it is, Mizu feels oddly vulnerable.

A long silence.

"I wanted to see you." She murmurs, letting the ash fall from the blunt. Your eyebrows lift up, and you cock your head to the side.

"Yeah?"

...

"Yeah." Mizu takes another hit, feeling her insides getting slowly relaxed and passes you back the blunt.

"Hm." You hum. "Why me?" You ask, your tone calm. It still has that usual raspy edge to it, but it's so...soothing. Mizu can't help but wish you'd wisper in her ear.

"I..." Mizu needs to take a deep breath. Fhuuuck it's hard to talk about feelings. "Re...remember when we met at the aquarium?"

"Yep...it was cool. Nobody listens to me ramble about bugs that much." You chuckle, trying to ease the vibes.

"I fell in love with you that day. I..I think, at least." Mizu blurts out, imidiately feeling her whole face burn up. "B-Before you say anything though, I don't expect you to like me back. I don't expect anything. I-I just wanted you to know, beca-" She starts rambling, her voice all shaky, but she suddenly gets caught off by you laughing out loud.

"Jesus, that's such a fucking cute thing to say." You say, slowly pushing her shades up your head, into your hair. "Color me wooed." You say, putting on an amused grin.

Mizu just blinks rapidly, her cheeks turning all the shades of red and crimson. Did...did that really work? How? "I...really?" She manages to croak out.

"Yup." You say, slowly stepping closer. "So what's next, hm? Now that you can expect stuff?"

Mizu can feel her insides shaking. Oh my God. You...you are flirting with her. You. The one who had her in a chokehold for months, the one who was the only one who Mizu could think about while touching herself, the one, single coolest woman ever...

"C-Can I...uh...kiss you?" Mizu asks carefully, and you, instead of an answer, slowly wrap her arms around her slender neck, pulling her down to your level, making her bend over.

"Guess." Fuck. You're so goddamn hot. Mizu decides to don't give a shit about her nerves, and just kisses you. It's an urgent, sloppy and akward kiss, with your teeth clanking sometimes, and she feeling out of rhythm. But it's okay. You still enjoy it. Why? Because she's so cute. Endearing even. The way her lips cling to you, as if you're her salvation, the way her hands depserately grasp at your hips...you feel like getting lost in it. Slowly, she pushed you down, hiding the both of you behind the railing.

"L-Let me...please let me..." Mizu muttered in a breahty, depserate whisper, her long fingers slowly curling around your right breast. Oh, it was so soft, You put a hand on her cheek, caressing it with a smile, and her eyes shined with the now given green light. She yanked down your tupe top, revealing your strapless bra which she got rid of too.

She got mesmerized by the sight of your bare boobs, perky nipples staning proud, as she ran her finger's along it's curve. She imagined them so many times, but they're somehow so much better in reality. Her lips latched around one of the nipples, almost moaning at the feeling of the hard bud agaist her tongue. She started swirling her tongue around it like her life depended on it. Her head was reeling, taking a pause to take your sunglasses off her face, and putting it on the gorund, then getting right back to work. Your soft little sighs, the way your fingers toyed with the loose strands of hair falling out from her bun...it made her soaked already.

"Hah...that's a good girl." You murmur and Mizu can physically feel her slick drip out of her. She can't take it anymore. She let's her hands grip your belt, and they start to unbuckle it.

When she finally manages to slide down your pants, she's met with...cute little panties. Such a contrast to your outfit, but she loves it. She's the only one who knows what kind of panties you're wearing tonight. She starts sliding her fingers up and down your folds through the clotch, as if teasing you, but in reality, Mizu's teasing herself. She can feel the material get more and more wet the more she rubs it. You're body is responding to her...it's aware she's there, and it's aware that she's trying to turn you on.

She lifts her head, fingers hooking the band of your panties. "Please...c-can I just...you know..." Mizu murmurs, but you stop her, putting a hand on her wrist.

"Say it clearly, and I'll let you." You say, her voice low and raspy. It makes Mizu's clit throb. "Otherwise no."

She gulps and licks drool from her lips. "Can I...please, just...taste you? To...eat you out." She croacks out, not even believeing she said that to you, but you just give her a smile in return. You slowly push her down, so that she's laying on the floor, her back hitting the tiles of the balcony. You straddle her chest, and Mizu watches with wide eyes and a baited breath as you slide your panties to the side, revealing your folds and their...their beautiful color, scent and let your slick drip down to her neck.

"Here you go...all for you." You whisper as you lower yourself onto her lips. Her lips lock on your flesh, her hands wrapping around thighs depserately. She quietly moans into your heat, having the time of her life. Oh, you taste so good...and she can feel your juices drip down her throat. The way you keep slowly grinding into her makes her hips buck againts nothing. You notice that though, and lean back onto your hands, and put one of them on her crotch.

You're touching her. You're actually touching her. Mizu feels like she could cum just from this. She keeps lapping at you like a starved woman, legs spreading as if on command as you hand snakes inside her pants. She starts whimpering into your entrance, her tongue pushing inside as you play directly with her clit. It throbs for you, and only for you as your soft fingers circle around, and on it.

"tastes 'sgoood...please fuck me...fuck 'm, please." Mizu keeps mumbling and whimpering against your pussy, pushing her whole face into it, as she pulls you lower, as if she wants to burry and hide in it. You grin, as you slip one gentle finger inside her. You're actually inside her. Fuck, the love of her life is inside her, as her juices drip down her throat, deep into her system.

"Yeah, mhm...good girl." You say breathlessly, slowly pumping two fingers inside her, as you approach her climax. Even if she never done this before, she's very good at eating pussy it seems. You move your fingers faster, curling your fingers, and as Mizu's moans get louder, you push harder against her, muffling her, since there are people on the other side of the door. "Sh...ssh, come on...cum for me." You say, as you feel yourself tipping over the edge.

You don't have to ask twice though, because just from the way you whisper to her, orgasm crashes over Mizu's whole nervous system. She squirms under you, until you slowly pull your finegr out of her.

After going back to the rest of the group, Mizu needs to pretend like she didn't just fuck the girl of her dreams, since that would've made it akward. So she sits down on the couch once again, and keeps quiet, watching you interact with the people around, like you're some magical creature, mesmerizing her.

After Ringo calls her up, tellig her that he's there to pick them up, Mizu collects Akemi and Taigen, and stuffs them inside Ringo's car. You walk her out though, and cheekily press a kiss on her neck before you wave goodbye.

Moments after Mizu gets home, she locks the door behind herself, and lets out the loudest scream ever. A victory scream, if you will.

Right before she gets into the shower, her phone buzzes with a notification. It's from you.

"hey. i had a good time."

"i'm gonna be at the aquarium tomorrow btw."

Mizu blinks at the texts. Did she just get invited to a date? Uh, fuck yeah!

"can't wait."

She texts back, and later that night, she can't help but play the image of what you did with her on that balcony. Her heat aches again, and she can't help but touch herself. But something changed.

It doesn't feel as good anymore...she wants your touch again. She got a small taste of Heaven, and she needs more. She can't wait until the date.

#bes mizu #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #bes x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #fanfiction #mizu fanfic #bes smut #smut

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wileys-russo · 7 months

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kiss and make up II a.russo x unc!reader

gif credits to @russogifs & @ohgrays

request - unc era remains her most powerful & my all time fave. kiss and make up II a.russo

you glanced up from your book hearing a knock on your dorm room door, repeated by a few more impatient knocks when you didn't answer in five seconds, only confirming you knew who was there before you even opened it.

"go away!" you called out, not moving from your place on your bed with a roll of your eyes. "babe come on, open the door." a familiar english accent called out, the girl knocking again as you shook your head.

"i am not in the mood to argue again alessia, go away." you repeated firmly. "baby please! i didn't come here to argue, let me in." your girlfriend groaned, and a small thud lead you to believe her head had thumped dejectedly against the wood.

the two of you had been seeing one another for six or so months now and you were normally nothing but enamored with the superstar striker.

her energetic personality paired with her effortless charm and accent was a combination that had you swooning after just a couple of dates. so much so that when she'd asked you to be her girlfriend she hadn't even finished getting the question out before you'd said yes.

you rarely argued, normally too busy being disgustingly smitten with one another and teased relentlessly by your friends for it. though when you did argue neither of you ever backed down both incredibly stubborn and sure you were right while the other was wrong.

last night you'd both been dragged to a frat party with some of alessia's teammates, none of them drinking given the fact they had a game the next day but the fomo of not going was too strong to stay away from the event regardless.

not any sort of athlete yourself you'd had no reason not to drink, and though you'd only had a few it was enough that alessia had accused you got a little too handsy with another girl and disrespected her in front of her teammates and friends.

though your recollection of events was that all you did was dance with a girl from your ethics class you got to talking to, which you only did because your own girlfriend refused to get up and join you. too busied in the company of her teammates to pay you much more attention than wanting you sat on her lap all night while she chattered away to them.

"lessi are you sure this is the best idea? you've got a game tomorrow." you checked in with a slight frown of concern, finishing your makeup and turning toward where she sat on your bed.

"it'll be absolutely fine babe. none of the girls are drinking and i'll be keeping a sure eye on that as captain. i think most of them are just going for a hook up or because they're scared something cool will happen like the foam party last time and we'll all miss out." alessia laughed, making grabby hands at you soon as you were within reach.

"okay, so long as you're sure." you gave in, still not thinking it was a great idea but with no commitments of your own tomorrow you could still enjoy yourself, and parties were never as much fun without your girlfriend.

not that there was a chance in hell she'd ever let you go to one without her anyway.

"sit still please." you warned, settling yourself to straddle her lap as her hands fell to your hips, just slipping up the inside of your top .

"baby do you want this done or not? because i can't be expected to concentrate if you move your hands much higher." you warned with an amused smile as her large hands started to rub up and down your sides, causing you to flinch a little as her rings brushed your ribs.

"i thought women were supposed to be able to multi task?" the blonde teased with a grin, leaning in to press a few sweet kisses to your lips but you pushed at her shoulders before she could take them any further.

she seemed to settle after that, allowing you to finish her makeup as her hands now lay dormant on your thighs, her knee bouncing a little underneath you but you were more than used to that, the english girl hardly ever able to sit entirely still.

"done, you look perfect as always." you complimented, pecking her lips and trying to stand but her arms tightly encircled your waist preventing that. "where you goin?" the blonde rasped, your heart swooning at her thick accent, hand moving to the back of your neck and tugging you into a proper kiss.

"you look so beautiful, my lovely girl, my pretty girl." your girlfriend mumbled as she pulled away, lazily kissing your jaw a few times, focus shifting to your neck. within seconds she found your sweet spot, tongue gliding teasily over the taunt skin before her lips began to shower it with attention.

though before her teeth could join the party to mark you like she so loved to there was a sudden and endless amount of knocking on your door, a mixed chorus of voices yelling for the two of you to hurry up.

"that's our cue." you smiled, cupping her face and stealing one final kiss before you stood, hurrying over to open the door as a horde of girls all piled in, grabbing both you and alessia as you managed to snag your phone before you were dragged away and your door slammed closed behind you.

it was a couple of hours later and you were nursing your third drink of the night, pleasantly teetering on the edge of being tipsy as you sat on alessia's lap, her chin resting on your shoulder as she talked with her friends.

her large hands sat possessively on your hips, squeezing every now and then to gain your attention when someone asked you something and you didn't answer, lips occasionally pressing a tender kiss to the back of your bare shoulder blade or your cheek. but beyond that you were starved for any sort of real attention from the blonde and that was taking its own toll.

admittedly quite bored of the conversations between the group you were sat with, which all seemed to center around team couple drama or strategies for tomorrows game, you found yourself frequently zoning out and watching on as your peers danced and drank around you, seemingly having a much better time.

"wanna go dance?" you leaned back a little and murmured in your girlfriends ear with a hopeful smile. "later baby." she answered, returning your smile and pecking your lips before immediately tuning back into another conversation.

still watching as the party raged on you looked longingly to where you spotted see a group of your own friends playing beer pong.

your best friend alex caught your eye, frantically waving you over as you gestured to your girlfriends hands holding you firmly on her lap and within a second she was in front of you.

"can i steal your girl for a game of beer pong russo?" alex winked, hand finding yours and pulling you up to your feet. "you can but good luck winning with her as your partner." alessia smirked as you scoffed, playfully shoving her head to the side and bending down to kiss her goodbye, tugged away by your best friend.

you'd meet her eye every now and then, watching you protectively as her gaze flickered between you and her friends, making sure you were still within her sight at all times as you finally started to relax and let your hair down a little more.

unfortunately given alex was practically blind drunk and you had horrific aim you'd lost your game, kicked off the table and forced to down a 'punishment shot' of god knows what but it burned as you swallowed it with a grimace.

"the music is calling me babe lets go dance!" alex yelled in your ear as you nodded, telling her you'd go and meet her as you set off back toward alessia who perked up at the sight.

"hi gorgeous." the taller girl smiled happily, quick to tug you back down onto her lap. "alex wants to dance, come with me? please?" you pouted hopefully, cupping her face as you sweetly kissed her, thumb tracing tenderly over her bottom lip.

"mm but i missed you baby girl, just stay here with me." alessias hands gently squeezed your hips and she watched happily as you melted at the term of endearment, ready to give into whatever she wanted as she knew was normally the case if she pushed the right buttons.

but catching your best friend waiting patiently for you across the room, giving you hurry up eyes you snapped out of it.

"baby i'm tired of talking about soccer or whose sneaking around with who, just come dance with me pretty please." you whispered, kissing beneath her ear a few times as her grip tightened, you also knowing exactly how to push her buttons to get what you wanted.

"russo! you listening or what?" but she too was snapped out of it as one of the girls smacked her shoulder, jolting her attention back toward them as she nodded, ignoring your request as you rolled your eyes.

"where you off to?" she questioned as you stood, grabbing your wrist with a raised eyebrow. "you don't want to dance? fine. but i'm not sitting here on your lap all night like some sort of trophy." you tugged your hand away, walking off before she could say another word as a few of her teammates whistled and oohed teasingly.

"shut up!" alessia warned them sharply with a glare as she scowled after your retreating figure, ordering one of the girls to swap seats with her, still ensuring you were within her eyesight as you were twirled away by alex.

"this is mia!" you looked up from where you'd been dancing with alex and a few of your friends to the girl who'd joined you. "oh hey you're in my ethics tut?" you recognised, hugging her in hello as she nodded.

"you're russo's girl right? i've seen you at the games, i'm good friends with lois we have a few classes together." she smiled making you roll your eyes.

"i am. but i also go by y/n!" you replied making her laugh, alex squealing happily as one of her favourite songs came on and she pulled you both into a hug, drunkenly belting out the lyrics and swaying side to side making you grin.

alessia felt her jaw clench as she watched on as alex was swooped away by a boy leaving you to dance with a girl she didn't know, seeing the way her arms wrapped around you, pulling your body into hers and making you laugh.

the way alessia should have been holding you, and the way she normally would make you laugh.

"don't pay them enough attention and they'll find it somewhere else hey less!" one of her teammates teased with a wink, lotte shoving her harshly with a glare for the comment.

she turned to try and check in with alessia but she was already gone, marching her way over to you. "lessi baby! lets dance." you cheered happily as she appeared, face lighting up as mia stepped back and alessia fixed her with a hard glare.

a look which didn't go unnoticed by you as alessia took the half full drink out of your hand, placing it on a table and possessively wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you away as you quickly sent mia an apologetic look.

"babe what are you-" "we're leaving."

unsure what had happened to cause the drop in her mood you allowed her to guide you outside, her hand falling to the small of your back as she pushed her way through the crowded frat house, the two of you finally inhaling fresh air as you made your way outside.

"less what's wrong? what happened?" you stopped to grab her face with a concerned frown, the taller girl only pulling off your hands and shaking her head, storming off as you hurried to keep up.

"hey baby, talk to me." you grabbed her hand stopping her in her tracks, the two of you alone and a fair way away from the party now. "are you trying to disrespect and embarrass me?" she scoffed suddenly causing your frown to deepen.

"what? of course not, why would you even think that?" you asked, hopelessly confused to where this was all coming from.

"first you yell at me in front of my friends and then you get all handsy with some other girl in view of the whole team when you think i'm not paying you enough attention? im the captain, do you know how bad that looks?" she continued, fixing you with an unimpressed glare as your face hardened.

"alessia please tell me you're joking." you laughed, though there wasn't a drop of humour behind your tone. "you're the only one laughing." she'd warned, and that was enough for you.

"for starters i didn't even want to go to that stupid party in the first place, i'd have much rather spent the night just with you like we normally do before your games." you started with a shake of your second.

"second of all once we got there you basically ignored me all night to talk shit with your teammates who you already spent the entire day with training. you barely made an effort to include me in any of the conversation bar wanting me sat on your lap to show off to everyone that mighty captain russo has a girlfriend." you snarled, pushing at her chest angrily as the taller girl barely moved despite the force you'd shoved her with.

"third of all i wanted you to come and dance with me but of course you were too busy being captain alessia russo tar heels superstar striker!" you mocked with a roll of your eyes, your girlfriend grabbing your hands tightly in hers as you tried to shove her again.

"so you don't get your own way and decide to go throw a tantrum and grind on some other girl to disrespect and humiliate me in front of the team and try to what? make me jealous?" alessia chuckled as you yanked your hands away.

"oh fuck you! of course you make yourself the victim." you shook your head in disbelief, hands flying to your neck as you undid the necklace she'd given you, the small silver A silently claiming you as hers.

'don't talk to me until you pull your head out of your ass." you warned tossing the necklace at her as she caught it, storming away and flipping her off as she called after you.

you made a beeline for your dorm building, alessia watching you go with a glare before she scoffed and headed off toward her own room, head swirling with a mess of different emotions.

and that brought you back to right now as your girlfriend knocked impatiently on your door and whined for you to let her in, neither one of you having spoken since your fight last night.

getting up with a huff you pulled the door open, the blonde perking up as you did so, already dressed and ready in her uniform for her game later.

"have you come to apologise then?" you asked sharply, crossing your arms and fixing her with a glare as you blocked her from entering your room with your body. though really you both knew if she wanted to move you it would be a more than easy task for the taller well built soccer star.

"can i come in so we can talk? please." alessia pleaded, eyes flickering around to the nosy gazes from some of your peers who lingered in their doorway watching the couple.

not particularly wanting an audience for if round two of your argument kicked off you rolled your eyes and stepped aside so she could come in, closing the door after her.

"don't sit. unless you're here to say you're sorry for being a self obsessed jealous asshole, you won't be here long." you snipped as she moved toward your bed, jaw clenching and posture stiffening slightly at your words but she stayed standing none the less.

"i hate fighting with you. can we please forget it happened and just move on?" the english girl asked hopefully, rocking back and forth on her heels as you laughed. "was that your idea of an apology then? get out." you pointed back to the door as alessia groaned, throwing her head back.

"i'm sorry! but we've not spoken all day and it's killing me. i miss you baby, miss my pretty girl." the taller girl pouted taking a step closer and playing with the bottom of your hoodie, looking down at you with her alluringly bright blue eyes and your stubborn resolve wavered for just a moment until you snapped out of it.

"don't you have warm ups to get to?" you pushed her hands away with a raised eyebrow, eyes running up and down her navy blue uniform, number 19 splashed proudly across the front of her chest and given it was coming into the cooler season she'd put a matching navy long sleeve on underneath.

"well yeah but..." she trailed off, pursing her lips and looking anywhere but you as you just raised an eyebrow at her behavior. "you know we always...before every game." alessia hinted still refusing to meet your eyes, as you finally caught on to what she wanted.

"alessia. please tell me you didn't only come here to say a half ass sorry because you want me to kiss you good luck?" you scoffed in disbelief, letting out a bark of sarcastic laughter.

"whats wrong with that? i wasn't lying i hate fighting with you babe and it's part of my pre game routine its our little ritual. i'll play terribly if we don't kiss!" alessia whined, the taller girl grabbing for your hands with another pout.

"you are unbelievable!" you pulled them away, turning around and opening the door, gesturing for her to leave. "just a small one? or on the cheek? a peck even? baby please!" alessia tried again with a whine and a pleading look, hovering by the door.

"fine, but just a peck." you agreed bluntly, her entire face lighting up as she pursed her lips, just moments before they tasted wood as you promptly slammed your door in her face.

"hey!" alessia scoffed with a scowl, only met with a firm request from you for her to fuck off as she huffed, kicking your door angrily and storming off.

you glanced down by your side as your phone vibrated over and over, but assuming it would just be your friends trying to convince you to come and watch the game you didn't bother to look.

but as the notifications continue to pour in your curiosity got the best of you and you grabbed the device, flipping it over and quickly realising it had been calls not texts that you'd been screening.

another one coming in you clicked accept, holding it up to your ear. "what al? i'm trying to study." you sighed. "you need to get here and fix this mess!" you frowned at her allusive words. "sorry?" you asked in confusion.

"alessia has missed five sitters, two of them the goalie wasn't even there and she still missed! i don't care what you're fighting about, she needs you." the girl remanded making you groan. "less is a big girl alex! so she has an off day, those happen." you rolled your eyes.

"um excuse me where is your school spirit? this is bigger than some stupid argument and i personally have money riding on this game. and they need these three points to be in a good place for if we want to make the championships!" the girl huffed as you again let out a groan, putting her on speaker and hurrying around to get ready.

"and that's my fault? how! she's the one who messed up and got all moody and jealous over nothing." you scoffed, shoving your feet into your shoes.

"i don't understand how her wanting you causes an issue? if anything babe jealousy is hot! honestly i'll never understand you silly little lesbians. just be happy and in love with each other keep it stupid simple. now get your ass here and save this game!" and with those wise words of wisdom imparted on you your best friend promptly ended the call as you stepped out of your room.

"finally! god it's almost half time dude." alex groaned, grabbing your hand and yanking you harshly down into the seat beside her, causing you to send an apologetic smile to the boy next to you who you'd almost sat on.

"what happened to her hand?" you questioned, eyebrows knitted together as you spotted your girlfriend with two fingers taped up together, her usual pink med tape headband making her easy to find on the field.

"got stomped on by that huge number four when she slid in for a tackle, also something that never happens to her!" alex shoved you, clearly insinuating it was somehow your fault.

"okay you clearly don't know her well enough off the pitch then because she is a walking hazard. she's like one of those puppies with massive paws who hasn't worked out how to walk!" you huffed as the whistle blew signalling the first half was over.

"go fix it! now." alex ordered as you were once again manhandled by the impatient brunette. "god you're so bossy. why do i keep hanging out with you?" you huffed quietly causing her to smack you with a playful glare.

hurrying down the stairs you waited by the sideline as the team had already entered the change rooms for their half time talk, well most of the team.

"you came! does less know you're here? she's been a mopey miserable mess man." you jumped as lotte appeared, not playing today due to a small strain in her calf.

"no we sort of had it out before when she came by for her good luck kiss and didn't come with an apology for last night." you rolled your eyes as lotte winced. "look mate we both know she's far from perfect but some of the girls took it too far with the teasing comments. i'm not saying whatever happened was justified but they did push her." lotte squeezed your shoulder with an empathetic smile.

"yeah well until she apologises and speaks to me herself about it i'm still pissed off with her. but i heard she's having a stinker and i think if i don't try to fix it i'm gonna be public enemy number one." you sighed, nodding to where alex was watching on with narrowed eyes.

though before lotte could say another word the team began to file out, lead out by their captain who spotted you almost right away, lotte excusing herself as your girlfriend replaced her.

before she could speak you grabbed her hand, pulling the two of you a little more out of sight in the tunnel. "i'm still angry with you but you have to get out of your own head less. you're better than this!" you reminded firmly but not unkindly as the blonde only nodded.

you cut off her attempt to speak as you balled her jersey in your fists and pulled her into a kiss, pushing her away as her eyes widened in shock. "now go score a goal, captain." you ordered, pointing back to the pitch as alessia could only nod again.

she turned to leave as you did too but before you could take a step your body was pressed against the wall of the tunnel, the english girl looming over you.

"i'm really sorry for last night baby, you were right and i was out of line and i'm so sorry for making you feel ignored. i'm gonna say it all properly after the game but i want you to know that i love you, so much." and with that her hands flew to your cheeks and her lips were back on yours.

angry with her or not there was no denying the erruption of butterflies in your stomach as she kissed you, running her tongue along your bottom lip before it evaded your mouth, the blonde stealing the air from your lungs before the whistle blew and she pushed herself away.

"gonna go score for you now pretty girl." the striker smiled, pecking your lips a few more times with a soft smile before sprinting off as her coach screamed out her name, 19 on her back disappearing onto the pitch as you blinked a few times in shock.

pulling yourself together you hurried back to your seat beside alex who smirked seeing your flushed cheeks as you ignored her teasings, focusing on the game.

and score for you she did, with two cracking the back of the net within ten minutes as alex almost pulled you onto her shoulders with glee. the final score winding up 4-0 you joined in with the rest of the spectators and students, whistling and cheering loudly, not missing how alessia's eyes found yours with a big dopey grin.

leaving her to shower and change you hung back with alex who eagerly recounted with far too much detail how the rest of her night went, rolling your eyes at her midnight encounters with the same boy she'd been hung up on who never paid her any mind unless he was drunk.

a gentle hand on your waist pulled you back from her story telling, alex stopping mid sentence with a knowing smile. "and thats my cue, i'll call you later with the rest. you better look after her russo, i know where you live!" alex warned, jokingly though her words were somewhat serious as alessia nodded feverishly.

"hi." you turned to look at her, the taller girl now changed out of her uniform and into grey sweats and an oversized black and blue tar heels hoodie, one you frequently stole from her. "can i walk you back to your dorm?" alessia asked hopefully causing a small smile to curl onto your lips as you nodded.

"i'm so sorry for my behaviour last night. i shouldn't have let the girls wind me up or have taken it out on you, i know you'd never cheat or do anything like that. i just don't like seeing someone touch whats mine." the possessive words sent your stomach into a flip despite the soft and caring tone they were said with.

"i'm sorry if i embarassed you in front of the team i promise i didn't mean to. i just wanted to spend time with you, even at a stupid frat party. but i shouldn't have just snapped." you apologised, slipping your hand into hers causing a surprised smile to appear on her features as the two of you made your way across campus.

"no you were right babe i was being a dickhead, but i won't lie i do like showing you off." alessia smiled charmingly, bringing your intertwined hands to her mouth and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"why you laughing? that was a nice comment!" alessia frowned as you laughed. "it sounds funny when you say dickhead in your cute little accent." you grinned as the two of you reached your dorm, you letting the pair of you in.

"come here." you squealed as the blonde dropped her kit bag to the floor and wasted no time grabbing your thighs, hauling you up into her arms as your legs wrapped around her waist and she flopped down onto your bed.

"there's much more graceful ways to get me into bed russo." you teased, kissing her nose and beaming as she scrunched it up adorably. "thats baby to you thanks." the girl pouted as you wasted no time kissing it away, alessia flipping the two of you over so she was hovering over you.

"think you forgot something though." she sat up, hips hovering over yours as she reached into the pocket, pulling out the necklace you'd tossed at her last night and shuffling back so you could sit up.

you sat up and held your hair back as you felt her settle behind you, moving to clasp it back around your neck, her lips peppering gentle kisses across the skin before you turned to face her.

you let out a laugh as she playfully tackled you back down to the bed, holding herself up above you with one arm her thumb pawed at the silver A now hanging rightfully back around your neck before they moved to gently traced the curve of your jaw.

bright blue eyes staring adoringly down into yours as you reached up to pull her hair out as it fell around the two of you like a curtain and she leaned down closer, her lips ghosting yours.

"my girl."

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso fanfics #alessia russo #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso

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youremyheaven · 2 months

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Moon Dominance & Manipulation pt 2

TW: murder, rape, genocide, violence, assault, death etc etc

Here's part 1

In part 1, I spoke about the manipulative nature of Moon dominant people, in this post I will be exploring it further and providing more examples.

I think its interesting that the Moon dominant nakshatras, namely, Rohini, Hasta & Shravana are Manushya gana (Rohini) and Deva gana (Hasta & Shravana). It is very telling because even though these natives say and do terrible things, they enjoy squeaky-clean reputations and people usually perceive them as angels. If they were Rakshasa gana people would see through their bs more quickly.

Ariana Grande- Hasta Moon conjunct Jupiter

Ariana has said and done numerous problematic things over the years, from cheating scandals, blackfishing, donutgate, being extremely rude and arrogant, changing races every few years, to cringe ass over-sexualised lyrics, to being a homewrecker, Ariana is super duper messy YET she enjoys public and media support and is seen as America's sweetheart. Other people have lost their careers for less but Ari gets away with absolutely everything. She publicly admitted that Pete was her rebound guy (she was engaged to him) which is such a shitty thing to do to someone?? Like imagine if the genders were reversed lol

Ariana is a solid example of always seeming like the innocent person even though she's the messy one. Even with her latest album, its pretty obvious who cheated on who but she's been subtle enough with her music to make it seem like her ex cheated on her (she made him sign an NDA upon divorce which in itself is SOOO sketchy like what is she afraid of him revealing????) to imply things like that when you've put the other person in a position where they literally cannot speak for themselves is peak Moon dominant manipulation. She then posted a half assed story on IG asking fans to stop attacking "people in her life",,, its so apparent that she incited the whole thing in a super calculated manner and once she got what she wanted, she tries to pretend to be the good guy whose fans did all the terrible stuff🙄

Selena Gomez, Pushya Stellium, Mercury in Ashlesha atmakaraka (they both lie in Cancer which is Moon ruled)

I wouldn't have included rashi rulership but Selena is an exception. She's the queen of playing the victim and is second only to Meghan Markle. Selena sets her fans on different hate trains every other week. She's very wary of showing support to social causes. She worked with Woody Allen. She treated her best friend & kidney donor like shit, was a terrible gf to Justin Bieber, treated Demi like shit during a really tough period of Demi's life, can't sing at all yet, produced a whole TV show (13RW) that is extremely triggering for people with mental health issues and was advised by MANY to change things but she just didn't??? honestly, if you watch her documentary you can see how she's the most self-absorbed narcissistic person, every single thing has to be about her all the time.

Despite all this, Selena is almost universally loved.

Amy Dunne from Gone Girl is THE best example of a Moon-dominant person and the extent to which they'll go to ruin your life. Amy Dunne was played by Rosamund Pike who has Shravana Sun conjunct Mars

Amy had such a squeaky clean image that it was impossible to convince anybody that she was the sociopath who tried to fake her own death.

Leonardo DiCaprio- Hasta Moon

Leo is a creepy middle aged man who only dates women under 25, lives for the yacht life and spends his free time partying and doing drugs, all of which is fine but these are things that other Hollywood men come under fire for ALL the time, yet Leo is pretty much everyone's favourite, he's the environmentalist humanitarian even tho he's private jetting to his private island to party with models, even tho he's received flak in the last couple of years for dating women much younger than him, its still more of a running gag than anything serious. He hasn't suffered because of it in any way. His reputation is still intact.

John Lennon- Hasta Sun, Shravana Moon

John was a wife beating, child beating, abusive to multiple women, made fun of people with disabilities, pretended to be an anti establishment hippie even though he accepted an MBE from the Queen of England (he returned it years later in protest) and yet he is remembered as a counterculture icon and one of the most talented musicians ever. He was a violent abusive man who preached peace. Although he was a philanderer himself, he was obsessively jealous and possessive towards the women he became involved with. Lennon was an extremely wealthy man who lived a rich lifestyle, but he said that we should "imagine" a world with no possessions or greed. In short, he was a hypocrite. Yet he is still remembered fondly unlike sooo many other figures in history.

Amal Clooney, Shravana Sun conjunct Venus

speaking of hypocrisy, here's Mrs Clooney, the human rights lawyer who wears $34,000 worth of clothes while championing the poor. She attends gala and balls wearing clothes worth thousands of dollars to "raise money for charity" whilst being married to a man who has a net worth of $500 million. Like I'm sure he could just write a cheque?? The Clooneys throw a lot of charity balls/dinners/parties etc as well and its so funny to me because its obvious they're doing it to keep a certain image before the media, whilst also getting all glammed up and having fun, without doing anything tangible to actually help anybody. imagine your job is to represent refugees, unfairly imprisoned heads of state and advise the UN and you also split time between 5 different mansions all over USA and Europe in private jets lol yet Amal enjoys a good reputation for being a girlboss

Gwyneth Paltrow- Rohini Moon

Lady Goop is a nepo baby and has a net worth of $200 million yet she feels the need to make money off of people by selling bullshit wellness products like $55 sex oils, $400 meditation mats, mouth tape, vibrators, theraguns, vitamins, health supplements and god knows what else?? She's one of the many westerners who sell commercial spiritual nonsense to the masses but coming from someone as rich as she is?? like maa'm?? she promotes so much alternate medicine bullshit on her podcast as well, there is obviously real actually helpful alternate herbal treatments/medicine etc etc BUT that's not her focus she talks about getting rectal ozone therapy (not kidding) and shoving garlic in her ears to clear her chakras and spreads misinformation. there are plenty of people in america who can't access health care, imagine how you're endangering them by suggesting that rose quartz and mouth tapes and candles will cure you. She promotes a eating disordered diet as a "healthy one". all in all, she's sketchy but people just make fun of her and don't see her as someone manipulating innocent people into buying super expensive "alternate medicine" from Goop.

Helena Blavatsky- Hasta Moon & Venus

Helena is the co-founder of the Theosophical Society and was an international leader figure in the Theosophical community. She basically helped promote eastern spirituality and philosophy in the West except that she's lied about pretty much her whole life, so its hard to confirm literally anything about her. She died in 1891 so at the time when she was alive there was no way for others to prove whether or not she was lying, they just had to take her word for it. She lied about training with sages in Tibet and lied about her mystical experiences, plagiarised ancient eastern texts to write about her "spiritual discoveries" etc There's plenty of proof that she was nothing but a charlatan yet I find it interesting how she still has a devoted following and even in her lifetime enjoyed a good reputation as a mystic medium lmao

Ranbir Kapoor, Hasta Sun & Mercury, Shravana Moon & Rohini Rising

Ranbir gets a lot of hate as of late but for the most part he has enjoyed a really good reputation despite being a shitty person.

Jeane Dixon- Rohini rising

She was a psychic and astrologer who predicted the JFK assassination.

John Allen Paulos, a mathematician at Temple University, explored the tendency of Dixon and her fans to promote her few correct predictions while ignoring the larger number of incorrect predictions, naming this habit "the Jeane Dixon effect."

Many of Dixon's predictions proved erroneous, such as her claims that a dispute over the islands of Quemoy and Matsu would trigger the start of World War III in 1958, that American labor leader Walter Reuther would run for president of the United States in the 1964 presidential election, that the second child of Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau and his young wife Margaret would be a girl (it was a boy), and that the Soviets would be the first to put men on the Moon. (excerpt from her wiki)

basically she had no real powers but managed to convince others she did, her clients included Ronald and Nancy Reagan lol

Jordan Peterson, Hasta Moon , Rohini Mercury & Shravana Ketu

He is a good example of the worst type of Moon dominant man. He has said among other things:

That class conflict is a natural and eternal struggle for existence that no political or economic revolution could ameliorate. The individual must develop an aggressive, alpha-male attitude in order to climb the social ladder. Peterson is kind of obsessed with power (all Moon dominants are lol) acc to him only a strong will, exercising itself against a contingent and meaningless world — and against the weak — can one ever hope to flourish.

Jordan Peterson endorses the idea that some men are purposely denied sex by women and that conventionally attractive men are 'taking all the sex' from other 'deserving' men. As a result, he suggests that by assigning women to men and pressuring them to 'settle' and have sex with isolated men, they wouldn't be so "angry at God" and commit acts of mass violence and murder. This, as well as criticizing birth control and saying that women would be happier if they just "allow themselves to be transformed by nature into mothers," is dangerous rhetoric that reinforces patriarchal violence against women.

He's a manipulative asshole who propagates his sexist harmful chauvinistic views as pseudoscience or psychology ew

Freud- Rohini Moon, Hasta Mars

i couldn't make a post about Moon dominance and manipulation without mentioning the godfather of promoting his fucked up worldviews as science, Mr Sigmund Freud aka the most successful Moon manipulator who has caused permanent lasting damage to society

Sigmund believed that homosexuality in men is neurotic but not particularly problematic. Lesbianism, however, he considered a gateway to mental illness.

This (according to Sigmund) is because only men have moral sense. We all evolve from apes, so no human is born with it. But boys acquire morality through the castration complex—the fear that their fathers will emasculate them for their misbehavior.

Having nothing obvious to neuter, girls and women are essentially amoral, lying and conniving to get what they want. Girls must be guided through civilized life by a father, and a woman by a husband. And because they choose not to marry, lesbians remain loose cannons, fundamentally untrustworthy and unstable.

His daughter Anna was his closest intellectual and emotional companion. Yet she was a lesbian.

Freud taught that lesbianism is always the fault of the father and is curable by psychoanalysis.

Freud cautioned followers that analysis is an erotic relationship. Analyst and patient together must scrutinize the amorous feelings that flow between them. This being the case, by rules he asked his followers to honor, Freud could not attempt to cure his own daughter’s lesbianism.

he also overgeneralized a lot of his “findings” such as the oedipus complex to apply to all people, which was harmful in the early stages of the formation of psychology. today most of his theories are disproven and widely considered problematic. Freud was obsessed with sex and made everything about sex (Moon men are sex addicts and every Moon man I've mentioned so far has a weird relationship with women)

he is credited with being the first psychologist to actually listen to women's problems but when he did listen to them, and many of them told them of their SA experiences, he changed the narrative to "women want to screw their daddies so they have these dreams/fantasies of sexual encounters in childhood" (the Electra/Oedipus Complex) to sell his books. He LIED basically, he manipulated the truth into something disgusting.

Freud is credited with making psychology a legitimate field and for it gaining attention worldwide but he literally manipulated, lie, overgeneralised and in general spewed a lot of toxic nonsense in order to get attention, like Gwyneth with Goop or Helena with Theosophy.

Sobhita Dhulipala- Rohini stellium

Sobhita like most others bought a brand new face for herself yet masquerades under the "im not like other girls, i read" nonsense, she talks about acting, art and self love like she's some committed thespian when girlie cannot act to save her life. she says she does not work out just cleans her house and does chores to stay fit :) bc she's not like other shallow actresses, she does her own chores :) compared to most other people on this list she's harmless but I find her super pick me and pretentious

Moon dominant people are very good at picking up on lies, and understanding human behaviour because they're liars themselves lol, it takes one to know one.

Azealia Banks- Rohini Sun

she's truly unhinged af and a very vile person but some of the people she's called out are also terrible people and tbh her insults are so poetic lmfao

dont get me wrong i think she's a terrible person but there is some truth to some of the things she says which is what i meant by how Moon dominant people understand human behaviour. also Moon dominant people are HATERS dont expect them to say anything nice about anyone lol

I had a friend who would deliberately compliment every other girl we were friends with (Rita is sooo pretty, Lily is so stunning etc etc) but would never say ANYTHING nice about me EVER and when others complimented me she'd act like she didn't hear it or something lmao (it was wild) and one day I straight up asked how come you never say anything nice to me and she said "oh I didn't know you needed compliments from me, I thought you got enough validation from others, I didn't know you were desperate for more" 😭😭😭😭LIKE GIRL WHATTT, honestly making these posts and exposing the dark nasty side of Moon dominant people is helping me heal from all the toxic abuse I endured at the hands of this shitty girl and some others ughhhh that's the reason why these posts have more personal anecdotes than any other post i've made lol

Oprah Winfrey, Shravana Sun & Venus

Her show was pure exploitation of peoples problems and also gave a platform to the equally exploitative Dr. Oz, the king of fake science, and Dr, Phil, the king of fake psychology.

It's a well known fact that she's friends with Harvey Weinstein & Jeffery Epstein despite being a "supporter" of the Me Too movement. Not to mention, she gave a platform to the phony Michael Jackson accusers from Leaving Neverland (do the research, they're liars) while turning a blind eye to the actual sexual predators of Hollywood, like Weinstein.

Her style of journalism seems to favour the shock value of a breaking news scandal rather than actually seeking the truth.

Several celebrities have come forward to talk about how poorly they were treated on the show. Oprah loves to relish in the misery of other ppl and ALWAYS makes others deeply uncomfortable with the straightup rude and hurtful questions she asks them.

Ellen DeGeneres, Shravana Sun & Venus

the fact that two of the most sociopathic TV hosts to ever grace television has identical placements is so telling. Ellen has been exposed in the last couple of years for being a terrible person to work with and treating her guests like shit. What I find even more interesting is the fact that the person who sort of initially exposed Ellen for being a manipulative liar is Dakota Johnson who has Hasta Sun & Mars, when I tell you that Moon dominant people deeply understand human behaviour and the psychology behind people acting the way they do, this is what I mean, it takes a Moon dominant to understand the manipulation of another one.

Kristen Bell, Hasta Moon

she probably has one of the most toxic marriages ever and yet speaks of it so glowingly and always talks about "how much work" it is to stay married like girl💀💀maybe exit the marriage then?? she has such a sweetheart image but she has admitted that she gives her children non-alcoholic beer, locks them in their room at night, makes them shower with her to "save water", talks to them about their father's addiction and their sex life??

"We make funny videos but we also go to couple's therapy because we disagree on 99.9 percent of issues," she said at the time. "There are days when I'm completely sick of him, and there are days when he is completely sick of me. But we've chosen to love one another and to be a team. We've learned how to communicate and argue in a really healthy, respectful way."- Kristen said this about her marriage like girlie nothing about it sounds healthy, if its this much work then it probably isn't love lol

Kate Winslet, Hasta Sun, Moon & Rising

Winslet has worked with predators like Woody Allen, Harvey Weinstein & Roman Polanski and after Me Too, she shifted her narrative as public opinion regarding these men, whose crimes and accusations have been well documented for decades, has thoroughly shifted to the point where associating with them is no longer good for her and would like to join the right side of history. She & Leo have partied on Jeffrey Epstein's private island as well and she's one the many signatories who signed a petition to free Roman Polanski ewww

This is one example of how image conscious Moon dominant people are, she has no moral compass and had no issue working with all these predators for decades but once it became apparent that she wouldn't benefit from associating with them anymore she's suddenly all "omg terrible men i wish id known better" lol what a liar

She also played a sociopathic Nazi in the movie The Reader

Josephine Baker, Rohini Sun

Josephine Baker was a dancer known for her banana skirt dancing. Later in life, she adopted 12 children from different ethnicities and spent the rest of her life raising them. She is remembered as an icon and for her activism but her children have come out to describe how abusive she was to them.

During her participation in the civil rights movement, Baker began to adopt children, forming a family which she often referred to as "The Rainbow Tribe". Baker wanted to prove that "children of different ethnicities and religions could still be brothers." She often took the children with her cross-country, and when they were at Château des Milandes, she arranged tours so visitors could walk the grounds and see how natural and happy the children were in "The Rainbow Tribe". Her estate featured hotels, a farm, rides, and the children singing and dancing for the audience. She charged an admission fee to visitors who entered and partook in the activities, which included watching the children play.

She created dramatic backstories for them, picking them with clear intent in mind: at one point, she wanted and planned to adopt a Jewish baby, but she settled for a French one. She also raised them in different religions in order to further her model for the world, taking two children from Algeria and raising one child as a Muslim and raising the other child as a Catholic. One member of the Tribe, Jean-Claude Baker, said: "She wanted a doll".

Baker forced Jarry to leave the château and live with his adoptive father, Jo Bouillon, in Argentina, at the age of 15, after discovering that he was gay. Moïse died of cancer in 1999, and Noël was diagnosed with schizophrenia and is in a psychiatric hospital as of 2009. Jean-Claude Baker, the unofficial addition to the Rainbow Tribe, committed suicide in 2015, aged 71.

Angelina Jolie, Rohini Sun

Jolie was clearly inspired by Josephine Baker. she adopted children from different ethnicities and even bought a Chateau in France to raise them in (just like Baker did). For many years Jolie received a lot of flak for her unconventional parenting, like frequently travelling, homeschooling all her kids and not giving them a bedtime or any kind of stable daily routine. I can't comment on it too much because there's not that much about their personal life on the internet but what I do find very interesting is how Jolie has always used the paparazzi to push a certain image and stay relevant. We know that paps only come when you call them, even Beyonce never gets papped, so its very much possible to live a lowkey life. Angelina gets papped absolutely all the time for the last 20yrs, it was especially bizarre because it was obvious that she was trying to shed the "homewrecker image" by always being photographed with her kids doing mom things and its a bit problematic to think that she's using her children as pap fodder to push an agenda. Again, I think Brad is an abusive person but he often spoke back in the day about his desire to keep the children out of the public eye but Angie had to shed her weird punk goth who kissed her brother and was addicted to bad men and drugs image so she tried to present herself as the kind humanitarian and loving mother, I'm not saying that she isn't those things, except that girlie will make sure the paps are around to photograph her doing these things like she called the paps to her daughter's first day of college bro likeeee

Here's a very old article about how smart she is at crafting her image. Again this is not in and of itself a bad thing but it's kind of bizarre to realise how image conscious people can be and how something that seems so "real" and "natural" is actually a well calculated move on their part.

Angelina also played the sociopath Lisa Rowe in the movie Girl, Interrupted. people often associate this character with her Revati Moon but i assure you this is all on her Rohini Sun

Russell Peters - Hasta Sun

Russell is really good at studying people, accents, mannerisms etc which is what makes him a really good comedian but he's also fckn rude and disgusting from time to time.

Honestly Moon dominant men always spew the most vile shit, they talk about people especially women in THE most disgusting way. actual psychopaths ew especially the cocky self assured way in which they say all this bullshit???

Errol Morris- Shravana Sun

he is a documentary filmmaker whose work focuses on the epistemology of the subject, he's obsessed with human nature and trying to understand why people do what they do, all of his docus focus on vvv unusual people, death row prisoners, defence secretary instrumental in the vietnam war, insurance frauds, a man who designs death machines, pet cemeteries etc Morris focuses on people who are questionable to say the least, he tries to humanize people perceived as evil or bad (Moon dominant af lol bc who else would be interested in the motives of bad ppl??)

This preoccupation with human nature is deeply tied to the nature of Lunar people. They have a need to understand "motivations" and what drives people to do what they do. There is an innate tendency to pathologize or pick apart behaviour. This isn't inherently a bad thing but it is something I have noticed among Lunar people.

James Randi- Rohini rising

He was a magician and skeptic who spent his life exposing other people and their paranormal and pseudoscientific claims.

Moon dominant people are skeptical of everything and the least likely to believe in anything, they're always looking for the truth because they deeply understand human ugliness and believe everybody else is like that (they see themselves reflected in others, which is to say that if they're capable of it, then so must others).

Roman Polanski- Hasta Rising

pedophile and child rapist Polanski has directed movies like Rosemary's Baby, Chinatown, The Palace, The Pianist etc,, all of his movies have heavy elements of deceit, lies, manipulation etc all of his characters are looking for the truth.

Claire had mentioned in her video about wealth as to how Rohini (Venus is domiciled in Taurus) (Moon exalts in Rohini) creates contentment and this leads to stagnation because dissatisfaction is what creates growth. If someone is content where they are they decay. I think this can be broadly applied to all 3 Moon naks because they have no other motives, nothing to dry them so they start rotting on the inside and doing terrible, horrible, evil things. Venus and Moon embodies the ugliness of humanity.

Josef Mengele- Hasta Moon

He was a Nazi doctor who conducted abhorrent and deadly medical experiments on the prisoners at Auschwitz and administered the gas to gas chambers. He was nicknamed "Angel of Death"

Lenin- Shravana Moon

if you're familiar with the history of the soviet union you will know that Lenin wasnt exactly a sweetheart

Heinrich Himmler-Hasta Sun, Shravana Rising and Ketu in Rohini

he was a prominent Nazi leader who is "credited" with "designing the Holocaust"

Edward Teller- Rohini Moon

This is the guy who betrayed Oppenheimer and is called "the father of the hydrogen bomb". he later expressed guilt over his involvement in the dropping of atom bombs over hiroshima and nagasaki

Henry Kissinger - Rohini Sun & mercury

he was a warmongering asshole who i hope is rotting in hell. he's one of the worst human beings to have ever existed due to the sheer scale and capacity of crimes he enabled and the millions of people who died as a result. i have extensively talked about how Moon dominant people lack empathy, they literally do not care about others, they are selfish to the point where its actually disgusting and pathetic and this guy is one of the worst examples

During the 1968 presidential election he was in the Johnson administration but wanted to get in good with Nixon. So he leaked information about peace talks with North Vietnam to Nixon. They then went on to use this information to sabotage the peace talks and in turn the election.

He committed treason to extend the Vietnam War, ultimately by seven years. That alone makes him a rare breed of terrible. But it’s also damning because it shows how he ultimately believe in anything other than that he deserves to be close to power. He was willing to play games with millions of human lives over a job. And he would have been in the Humphrey administration if Nixon lost, so it was just a job he wanted more. He didn’t care about fighting communism, the rule of law, patriotism, anything. His death toll alone puts him on a short list of the worst people to ever live, but most of the people on there did what they did for an ideology.

He’s also been described as “the Forrest Gump of war crimes.” He just shows up for no good reason in the history of so many atrocities. Often he ordered them, but he also installed dictators who would carry out genocides. There’s worse people in history, but none who have been involved in so many separate crimes.

just read anything about this vile shitty man and you will understand the kind of cruelty and apathy Moon dominant people are capable of.

moon dominant people are "good" with political & military strategy because they dont care about anybody's well being except their own lol

one time i spoke to a Moon dominant guy and he said that there's no such thing as altruism or selflessness and that everybody behaves in their self interest, i found that very cynical and disturbing and he said even people who do charity or appear to be kind are only doing it because they want others to see them that way and that really says more about the nature of Moon dominant people than anything else. he also said he loved attention of any kind and would do anything to trigger people just so they'd react and give him attention lol basically he admitted to having sociopathic tendencies. He was Rohini Moon. imagine being so morally bankrupt and soulless that you cant believe there's goodness in this world or that people are good with no agenda lol I feel bad for people who have to live life being that bitter, imagine rotting on the inside like that

Herman Kahn- Hasta Moon

He was a military strategist and developed the nuclear strategy of USA during the cold war. which is to say his entire job revolved around manipulation. He is quoted as saying:

"At the minimum, an adequate deterrent for the United States must provide an objective basis for a Soviet calculation that would persuade them that, no matter how skillful or ingenious they were, an attack on the United States would lead to a very high risk if not certainty of large-scale destruction to Soviet civil society and military forces." 💀💀💀(avg moon dominant man be like)

In Kahn’s book, the Doomsday Machine is an example of the sort of deterrent that appeals to the military mind but that is dangerously destabilizing. Since nations are not suicidal, its only use is to threaten.

ok thats it for now besties whewww

i am not claiming that all moon dominant people are terrible people so if you have these placements dont take it to heart. i do however think that the dark side of the moon dominant native is truly terrifying. all i wanted to do was shed light on that.

#astrology notes #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #nakshatras #astrology #vedic astro notes #astro notes #astro observations #vedic astrology #astroblr #jyotish #rohini #hasta #shravana #moon

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lovebugism · 1 year

Text

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ We Fight to Make Up

summary: after a run-in with your ex, steve's anger gets the best of him. sometimes you think he picks a fight just for the make up sex. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 7.6k warnings: smut, steve calls himself daddy once, briefly mentioned breeding kink, a touch of angst, insecure!steve, also steve with scruff because that needs a warning too, 18+ mdni a/n: ok i'm not the happiest with this but it's been sitting in my drafts for so long and she needs to see the world now so.. enjoy? <3

You don’t go out anymore. None of the party does, really.

Fighting through the end of the world and somehow surviving for three years straight made bars and clubs and getting drunk seem a little less important. It gets too easy to stay within the inner circle that’s seen the same sort of hell you’ve seen.

Eventually, time goes on and you don’t realize that you’ve only been around the same ten people until the thought of going to the grocery store alone sounds scary.

Fighting monsters, weathering alternate dimensions, beating up Russians soldiers — that’s cake. It’s the getting back to normal that’s so hard.

That's a bitter pill to swallow. None of you got to have too much of a childhood before the knowledge of a sentient darkness swirling beneath your feet turned everything upside down (no pun intended). A life with a regular routine unbound by the impending doom of an armageddon is hard to go back to, when fighting to stay alive is all you’ve ever done.

You try really hard, though. All of you do.

The kids try to find a nostalgic amusement in the arcade they used to frequent while grappling with the fact that they’ll never been those kids again. The older group of you dabbles in the simple pleasure of growing up and discovering what adulthood really means — getting drunk and going dancing just because you can, but facing the inevitable consequences of those actions all on your own.

The six of you find a certain solace at the Limelight. For Steve and Jonathan, they serve good beer — obviously cheap and unusually tangy on the tongue, but nice and cold nonetheless. For Eddie and Robin, there’s a karaoke machine and a stage across the bar, complete with every rock ballad imaginable. You and Nancy take special interest in the dance floor — a platform with light-up rainbow squares for all your drunken twirling needs.

It’s a nice place. More than that, it’s a familiar one. Eventually, going there every friday night is like comfort food in the belly, pleasant and warm. Steve feels safe there when he’s with all of you and tonight he’s especially fuzzy with a quiet sort of happiness that’s got his cheeks all pink.

Maybe the beer is partly to blame.

Or maybe it’s because you’ve got your hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, anchoring yourself to him and simultaneously fending off any unwanted attention from the scantily clad women around you who can't seem to take their eyes away from your Steve.

But he only watches you as you smile into your glass while Eddie Munson, all sweaty after his Madison Square Garden worthy rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart, tells some stupidly unfunny joke. You’re pressed contently into his side, like you would melt into him if you could, and he’s buzzing with the comfort of your warmth and the chemically induced mellow from the drink in his cup.

It was a good night. An easy one. A fun one.

And then it just… wasn’t.

When your ex waltzes into the bar, he brings the cold air in with him and an unusual sophisticated energy that’s typically foreign to this side of town. He’s got on a gray corduroy blazer and slacks to match. The black turtle neck he wears beneath it clings to his lean torso and broad chest, like he wants people to marvel at how muscular he is.

You don’t even realize it’s him at first. You turn to Nancy to talk shit about the douchebag at your eight o’clock that just walked in while the guy settles at the far end of the bar, around the corner that faces the group of you. He removes the dark Ray-Bans from the straight bridge of his nose and uses them to push back his cinnamon-colored curls.

Steve feels you tense at his side then. You duck inside yourself and force him and Robin to form a makeshift shield around you.

It’s a tad too dramatic for two people who ended on pretty decent terms. It was about as amicable as a breakup can be — you were both seventeen and thankfully already mature enough to know that the relationship wasn’t bound to make it outside of high school. So you split up in search of more fulfilling things.

You found yours, in Steve and in the rest of the party. And by the looks of it — the obviously expensive suit and the silver Rolex glittering under the dim yellow bar light — he found his.

You aren’t exactly sure how, but he sees you.

Probably because Robin couldn’t stop ogling at him from over her shoulder, obviously not getting the hint to act casual and inevitably dragging his attention over to the group of you.

He’s confused by the attention at first and then beaming when he notices you. The man flashes a set of pearly whites beneath a plump pink grin, all but shoving through the crowded bar to come and meet you.

Steve is able to get a better look at him when he’s no more than a couple inches away. The guy wrenches you away from him to wrap you in a friendly embrace, smiling like a ray of a thousands suns while he laughs with a hearty mirth.

A childlike and terribly jealous scowl settles upon Steve's features as his stomach wrenches something fierce. This stranger is touching you, and he hates that he’s touching you, but it’s more than that.

Steve’s almost certain this is what he would look like if he hadn’t been through the end of the world. The ornate suit and sunglasses worth more than most people’s salaries could’ve been his. In another life, he could’ve been this pretty and perfect and pure.

But, instead, here he is — dressed in an aged Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt and hand-me-down jeans that are frayed at the hems. There are bits of dried blood on the knee that he can’t get out. He isn’t quite sure if it’s his or if it belongs to one of the three varying monsters he’s been face-to-face with over the years.

His hair is pushed back and visibly un-styled, fluffier than usual because it hasn’t been washed in a while. And only now does he notice the prickly layer of scruff itching at his jaw and above his lip because the effort to shave is just too much sometimes.

He wishes he had, though. Now, he wants to completely perfect his appearance and change his life entirely — all at the sight of some stranger he didn't know existed before now.

The man introduces himself to the rest of the group when he parts from you — Todd.

Because of coursehis name is Todd.

No one says that out loud, of course, but you do share pairs of knowing looks. Eddie’s the only one brave enough, or rather drunk enough, to take the piss out of the guy.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed for Limelight?” he asks before laughing into his beer.

The rhetorical question leads to the man, Todd, to start complaining about work — how he’s making more than he knows what to do with, that the lifestyle isn’t as lavish as everyone made it out to be, that work is his best friend most days because he doesn’t have time for real relationships anymore.

And it doesn’t sound braggy. This isn't some rich guy complaining about all the money he has. He’s genuine, and that’s somehow even worse.

Steve can tell he’s working for some big four accounting firm without him having to say it. He can practically smell it all over the guy. Todd’s just got that air about him, that he’s got an office on the fiftieth story with large glass windows that span from the floor to the ceiling. He’s making well into the six-figures if that’s the case. Just like his goddamn dad.

Just like he would be if the endless cycling of fighting hadn’t stripped him flesh from bone.

Steve forces himself to shove that thought to the back of his mind.

“You know I’ve actually been thinking about, you know, just dropping everything. Putting in my two weeks and fucking off to France,” Todd admits. His eyes sparkle like a pair of fucking diamonds when they lock in on you. “Like we always used to talk about.”

That was your dream. The kind of reverie that wasn’t at all practical or the least bit tangible, but the kind you fantasized about nonetheless.

And here this asshole goes, living it for the both of you.

You’re grinning at him anyway, patting him on the shoulder while you congratulate him. You tell him he should do it. That he deserves it.

Steve, meanwhile, is so angry he can feel the prickle of the red-hot rage on his skin, like so many little needles. It’s a simmering heat for now, all slow and lazy. The longer he holds it in, the more likely he is to pop into a full boil. He knows that. But he keeps the fire in his chest and wallows in that high-pitched ache.

Todd leaves not too long after. Makes it a point not to overstay his welcome. He’s polite when he goes, making sure to talk to all your friends even though he didn’t exactly come for them — he compliments Eddie’s leather jacket and Robin’s taste in style, Jonathan and Nancy are both blushing pink when he praises their work with the local paper. He says something to Steve he can’t quite register because he’s too busy fuming.

The brunette girl beside him is practically swooning, and he has to remind her — “Robin, you’re gay.”

The man was kind, terribly so, the sort of politeness you can’t help but notice and marvel at, like a pretty pebble you’ve found on the ground. He didn’t overstep any boundaries with you either, like he respected that you two were practically strangers now — fucking asshole — and whether or not he knew you were with Steve, he kept a chivalrous distance anyway.

He must’ve known, though, he did have eyes after all. There’s no way he missed the way Steve had been looming over you the whole time. Or the possessive arm he had around your shoulder. Or the stern chocolate gaze that had ping-ponged between you and him the entire conversation.

When he leaves, there’s nothing to talk shit about or make fun of him for. Not only is that really fucking annoying, but it’s boring, and it leaves you and Steve as the punching bags for all their stupid jokes.

“You certainly have a type, don’t ya, doll?” Eddie teases you as he reaches behind Nancy to shove at your shoulder. “Steve’s practically a carbon copy of that douchebag.”

“Holy shit, I can see it now,” Robin marvels breathlessly. Her deep ocean gaze is still locked on Todd across the bar. He’s minding his own business now, ordering another drink, while the rest of you can’t seem to stop talking about him. She turns back to Steve, her eyes flitting over his features like it’s the first time she’s seeing them while she puts the pieces of a puzzle together.

“But, Steve’s like the dollar store version of him, though, right?” she wonders rhetorically and then feels the need to explain herself when Steve furrows his brows at her. “—Because, you know… he’s a lot richer than you are…”

The boy rolls his and brings the beer back to his lips. The clarification makes it sting more.

“Thanks, Rob.”

Steve isn’t quite sure what’s got him seething. He’s the personification of a forest fire now — scorching, raging, and deadly — without a reason to be. It’s entirely likely you’ll never see Todd ever again. He lives in the city these days and he just told you that he was planning on moving to fucking France.

But these facts don’t mean as much to him when he knows that the guy isn’t totally over you.

Steve knows Todd would be more than happy to take you out for coffee tomorrow morning to tie up any left-behind loose ends. He’s a rich guy going through a quarter-life crisis (Steve knows a little about what that’s like, too), he’d be more than happy to sweep an old ex-girlfriend off her feet and take her all the way to France with him. She’d need only to ask him to.

Maybe that’s what angers him. There’s a man, all rich and pretty and unscathed by war, that might love you like he does.

The wildfire in his chest grows. It’s a wonder it hasn't seared a hole in the fabric of his sweatshirt. And it burns. It leaves aching blisters on his skin like it’s the real damn thing. It’s like punches to the face, worse than every time he’s ever been beaten up combined.

He manages to keep the ashes of himself together. It's the least he can do for the rest of you, who obviously aren’t as bothered by Todd’s lingering presence and have since moved on to things more meaningful.

It wouldn’t be fair to project his ache onto you.

You guys don’t get too many nights like this, with work and school and lingering bouts of PTSD — who’s he to ruin this night for everyone else when he’s the problem?

But if any of you notice his simmering anger, you don’t show it.

He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or not.

Nancy and Jonathan stay no longer than fifteen minutes after the fact. “We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” the say with a shrug, though everyone knows what that’s code for. Robin makes kissing noises at them as they make their exit.

Now, the brunette girl stands in front of the stage that Eddie parades on. He belts “If you only hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever!” into the microphone for the hundredth time. She cheers for the boy like it’s the first time she’s ever heard the stupid song.

The bartender hands you two drinks, a couple of Sex on the Beach’s for you and Robin to try.

She hadn’t stopped talking about it since she spotted it on the menu even though she hates peach schnapps. You tell Steve you’re going to run it to her and that you bet she won’t make it through one sip without gagging. You also promise that you’ll try and pull Eddie away from the stage when the Bonnie Tyler song fades and then inevitably loops again.

He only nods and mumbles a vague affirmative under his breath. He doesn’t even look at you. Just stares down at his empty glass of beer and draws patterns on the cloudy cup with his finger.

It’s hard not to notice his uncharacteristically long silence.

He hasn’t been King Steve for quite some time, but that version of him always manages to peek out after a couple of drinks. He gets loud and brash and smiley and stupid. It makes the quiet demeanor he possesses now that much more daunting. Like a flag he’s waving to make sure everyone else knows that he’s upset about something or other.

Eventually, it makes you burst.

“Is something wrong?” you blurt.

He finally glances at you then. And has the gall to look confused. “What?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. You shift your weight on your feet and try to ignore the distant stinging of the ice glasses in your hand, how the cold of them shoots pins and needles into your palms. “You’re just… being really quiet.”

“I’m fine,” he dismisses with a shrug of his own. A hint of a smile flashes at the very corner of his mouth before he brings his drink to his lips. He swallows down the rest of it in one quick gulp. You watch anxiously as he waves to the bartender for another.

“We can go home if you want—”

“Jesus, I’m fine,” he interjects. The laugh that spills from his throat borders on annoyance. “Just go get the freak before he drives me crazy.”

With that, the two of you part ways. You, with the knowledge that something’s wrong with your boyfriend but having no way to make it better because he won’t tell you anything. And Steve, with another irrational reason to be angry at the world because how do you not get it?

If his ex-girlfriend showed up to a bar, looking like an airbrushed model with more money than all of you combined who’s got brains and wit and humility, he’d want you to get a little fucking jealous too.

It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. But he chooses to wallow in his anger than reflect on it, anyway. He takes pity on himself and makes everyone else out to be the enemy. Like he does best.

Even hours later, when he’s sobering up with room temperature water and a bowl of pretzels — and you’re calling a cab for a significantly drunker Eddie and Robin — he still feels the sting.

He makes sure you know it too.

The drive back home is uncomfortably quiet, which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he at least had the radio on. But when he stuck the key into the ignition and music started blaring from the speakers (because he forget to turn it down beforehand), he turns it off completely. You feel to awkward to touch it.

“Do you, uh… Do you wanna talk about it now?” you ask him.

You’re unfamiliarly timid with him as you peer at him through your lashes. It’s like you’re looking at the sun, the way you have to glance at him from the corner of your eye so he won’t blind you. And it isn’t because of his usually sunny disposition because, somewhere along the course of the night, his shine got snuffed out. It’s because he’s practically lit himself on fire with his anger where he sits next to you.

And he still has the nerve to shake his head. “Talk about what? I told you, there’s nothing wrong,” he dismisses with one hand in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the other resting its elbow against the driver’s side door while his fingers pick anxiously at his lower lip. Nothing wrong, my ass.

“Are we seriously gonna play that game tonight?”

“What game?” he scoffs out a laugh.

“The game here you’re upset about something, but refuse to tell me why, so I have to guess what’s wrong with you until I get it right and you let me make it better.”

Steve glances at you and then back to the road. “I… I don’t do that.”

Oh, fuck, he totally does, he thinks to himself. Fuck, he hates that you know him so well.

“You’re literally doing it right now.”

“Well, I can’t be. Because I’m not upset about anything,” he argues with a shrug. “That’s, like, a mathematical impossibility. Or whatever.”

“Considering this is the most you’ve said to me all night, I know that isn’t true— And it’s not even a conversation! You’re just being passive aggressive!”

“Passive aggressive, huh?” he repeats sardonically.

“Yes!” you seethe. “You’re mad at me and I can tell that you’re mad, so just tell me why—”

“I’m not mad at you,” Steve grumbles. He feels even more like shit for making you think he was acting all pissy because of something you had done. You hadn’t done anything. You were perfect. You’re always perfect. And here he goes, making you think otherwise.

He slows to a stop at the last red-light before home. The neon scarlet matches that anger sweltering in his belly. He still refuses to look at you.

“Then what happened between when we got to Limelight and right now that’s got you so fucked up?” you ask him with a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes.

The boy only huffs. His chest deflates with a heavy breath. He almost forgets to answer you because he’s too busy praying for the light to turn green so he can get the fuck home.

He just needs a little food in his system, he concludes, and a nice hot shower and a bed to rest his tired bones. Maybe then he’ll be able to function like he’s meant to.

He feels a sense of relief for the first time in hours when the light bathes the two of you in a neon emerald glow.

You let out a sharp exhale through your nose at his silence. You shake your head at him like an annoyed parent and cross your arms over your chest. Your knees turn away from him and towards the door in time with your gaze that flits to the window. Now you’re the one that’s pissed.

Steve mumbles lowly when he finally answers you. It’s nearly inaudible.

“Your douchebag ex.”

“What?” you reply, sparing a glance over at him. It isn’t a question of whether you heard him or not, but of why that’s what he’s being so mean to you about.

“Your douchebag ex,” he repeats louder and picks chapped skin from his bottom lip. He rubs his tongue over the irritated skin to soothe the burn. “That’s what I’m upset about.”

Your brows furrow as you rack your head for the conversation you had with Todd that you’d already forgotten about. He’d said hello, and that you looked nice, and then asked you what you’d been up to before making conversation with your friends. He’d wished you luck and walked back to his seat not too long after. You wonder if there was some code in his words that you’d missed.

“…I don’t get it. What did he do?”

“Really?” Steve wonders with an emotionless laugh. “You don’t have a single clue why that might’ve pissed me off?”

He barely slows at the sign of the four-way stop. The block is practically a ghost town now. No one’s out so late into the night. Any other time you might’ve said something about it, but you’re just as eager to get home as the simmering boy next to you.

“No! He stopped by to talk for, like, five minutes! Are you really upset because another man talked to me?” you shout and it burns him because, yeah, that is kind of what he’s mad about — but it’s more than that and you don’t seem to get it. It’s not your job to either. He’ll just burn for the both of you.

The car jerks to a stop when he parks in the driveway.

“Yeah, you’re right—” Steve mutters to himself as he snatches the keys from the ignition. “You don’t get it.”

You feel the impact of the slammed of the car door as he exits. The headlights illuminate the boy as he uses his key ring to unlock the front entrance of your shared home. The dim orange overhead light slowly dims above you and then shuts off completely, bathing you in darkness.

With a sigh and a fleeting thought of oh, it’s gonna be that kinda night, huh? you follow less unenthusiastically behind him.

“Then just explain it to me,” you plead, your voice coated with exhaustion. The warmth of the living room seeps into your bones and makes you that much more tired. “I really, really don’t wanna do this tonight.”

“That asshole was all over you,” Steve finally chooses to air his grievances while he toes off his sneakers.

“He hugged me once! What was I supposed to do? Push him off?”

“That’d be a start.”

“I would’ve done it!” you promise.

He plops onto the couch with a rather dramatic huff as you struggle to take off your boots, what with the zipper getting caught in the slider and being distracted by the storm cloud across the room.

“I don’t care about him! I literally haven’t seen him since I was eighteen! I basically forgot he existed in the first place.”

Steve doesn’t let himself take any solace in your words.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs with the shake of his head. He rests his elbows on his knees, runs his palms over his face once before dragging his fingers through his mussed hair. “Sometimes… I don’t know, I guess, sometimes it feels like maybe you deserve someone better than me.”

His confession feels like a stab in your heart.

You can only imagine how many daggers are piercing him now.

“Steve…”

“No. Don’t give me that bullshit spiel, alright?” he spurns with a shake of his stubborn head. When he laughs, it lacks any and all emotion; it’s gut-wrenchingly bitter and coated with venom. “We both know he could take way better care of you than I ever could. He’s practically a fucking millionaire, babe! And he’s, what, twenty-five? He has the money to drop everything and fly across the world— to France.”

“Steve—” you try again, to stop the spiral before it starts.

He doesn’t let you.

“I mean, fuck, I know how bad you wanna go there. You’ve been talking about it since we were eight,” he laments with wide, glassy eyes and an hand splayed out towards you. He brings it, then, to his chest and clutches at his heart, “But I can’t take you. Because I’m so broke, it fucking hurts. You deserve someone to do that shit for you, alright? And it’s not me. It’s never gonna be me.”

“…You really think he can take better care of me than you do?” you ask him so quietly that it sounds like a whimper. Your face is twisted in anguish, like his sadness pains you too.

“Well, yeah,” he chuckles like the answer’s obvious. He sniffles. “Considering we’re working our asses off just to make it through the week and you’d never have to work a day in your life if you were with that asshole.”

“It’s not about the money, Steve,” you agonize with the shake of your head. “I don’t love him. I would be so unhappy if I were with him because he’s not you. I don’t give a single fuck about France if you’re not gonna be there with me.”

You close the distance between you as you walk from the entrance to where he sits in the living room. He can hardly look at you as you round the couch to stand ahead of him, sparing only meek glances your way.

The small smile on your lips only half puts out the fire raging in his chest. It’s one of those natural wildfires now. The kind that you’ve just got to let burn.

“What do I have to do, Steve? What do you want me to do to prove that I just want you?” you ask him softly, nudging your sock-clad foot with his own. “I’ll fucking— I’ll find his number in the phone book right now and invite him over if you want—”

Yeah, because seeing him again is gonna make any of this shit better, he thinks bitterly to himself, though he’s pleasantly surprised by your following promise.

“I’ll make him come over here, act like I wanna catch up or whatever, and then make him watch while I suck your cock,” you paint the picture for him in a suddenly low, sultry tone.

Steve can almost see it — the look on Todd’s face as he stands in the foyer, his hands balled into fists at his side, wearing an angry amber tint upon his perfect face while he watches the girl that got away take a mouthful of another man’s dick. “I’ll get all nice and pretty on my knees for you and make him watch.”

Steve tenses at your words. His fingers twitch where they rests on his knees, itching to get a hold of you. His eyes go heavy as he gazes up at you, his stern stare looking much darker than before — hungrier.

Your eyes carry a similar sort of desire. They swim with innocence and yearning and knowing.

Because both of you understand how your fights usually end. You’ve been together long enough to know. The anger grows and grows in the belly of a dragon until it’s all you can do to keep your hands off of each other. You make Steve come so hard he forgets all the reasons he was raging in the first place and then he apologizes with his tongue deep inside you, touching you in all the tender ways he knows how.

“Yeah,” he breathes with a nod, the word heavy on his tongue. “That’s what I want.”

“You wanna own me, don’t you, Stevie?” you purr.

Your movements are calculated and cat-like as you mount him. Your hands caress him from his knees to his thighs, then rise up to his chest when you straddle his lap. “You wanna fuck me and make me forget about every guy that’s ever had me before you. Is that it?”

He nods, too dumb to speak for now. Your voice is all silk and heat. It reminds him of your wet, hot pussy sitting just over his lap. Only the thin layers of your clothes separate you from him.

“You wanna ruin everyone else for me, huh?”

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, both in an answer and a moan as your hand reaches between you to grab his cock through his jeans.

“You already have,” you assure with a sincere twinkle in your eyes. “But feel free to remind me.”

When your mouths collide, it’s all tongue and teeth and spit. It’s not passionate, it’s dirty.

His tongue forces its way between your lips and into your mouth, rubbing every part of you he can reach with the muscle, like he wants you to feel all of him there — a lingering touch that you can’t get rid of.

Your mouths caress each other and then break apart again in acute, wet, and filthy clicks that fill the silence in the house.

His stubble softly scratches you as it rubs against your skin. The feeling of it sends chills down your spine. Fuck, you curse to yourself. It’d feel even better between your legs.

Steve separates from you suddenly, his teeth digging into your bottom lip. A whimper leaves your throat as he mouths at it. With hooded eyes, he lets it go and watches it fall back into place. Then he grabs your cheeks with two large palms and drags you back to him, sucking on the bitten skin and then on your tongue.

The sensation’s got you moaning, your eyes rolling back in your head, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Your obedient hands worm between your bodies to unbuckle his belt.

“You gonna be good for me?” Steve asks you while your fingers undo that button on his pants. His lips are pinker and more swollen, coated with a fine sheen of spit that matches what's smeared on his chin.

“I’ll be so good for you, Stevie,” you promise before reaching through the band of his underwear to wrap your fingers around his warm, half-hard cock.

A grunt escapes his throat as he slides your panties to the side. He’s suddenly grateful for the easy access granted by your dress — the one that makes your tits look like heaven, the one he was cursing just hours because it had Todd drooling all over himself when he saw you.

The thought of the man no longer angers him. He’s not the one with his finger between the lips of your pussy, already drenched and coated with you.

“Yeah? You want daddy to fill your hungry little cunt?” Steve asks you, almost taunting you. He only uses that nickname when he’s in a certain mood — the mood to ruin you.

The tip of his finger catches the peak of your swollen clit and you keen.

His touch makes you so stupid that you’ve already forgotten to answer his question. He makes sure to remind you, though, when his hand rears back and smacks against the bare flesh of your cunt.

You hear the wet slap before you feel it.

It makes you clench around nothing and moan louder for him, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Words,”he demands softly.

“Please,” you moan helplessly into his shoulder. You love when he gets like this, assertive and showy with the power you let him have over you. He gets mean with you, but never too much that you forget how much he loves you, and that’s when you like him best.

His finger slips so effortlessly into you. You could easily take more than that with the way your pussy is so eager to suck him inside. He knows it, too. He just wants to tease you.

He wants to leave you empty and yearning before he fucks you silly. For now, he’s taunting you with his slow and clinical touch, observing everything he’s doing to you and how it has you twitching and begging for more.

He wants to commit it all to memory.

He’s barely got the tip of his pointer and middle finger prodding at your clenching entrance; it’s your pussy that drags them further in, opening for him and then tightening around the appendages so they’ll never leave. The obscenity of it makes both of you moan.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this,” Steve mutters to himself. “And so fucking wet— enough for me to slip right in, don’t ya think?”

You’re not so sure but you nod into his shoulder anyway. Even after all this time together, you can’t quite get used to how big he is. He still has to work you up to take his cock, with three or more fingers shoved inside of you until you’re ready. Even then, it still burns for the first couple of seconds. There’s always a grace period that you have to wait for before he can move.

And you feel the ache of him in your belly after, every damn time. Like he’s still there.

But you’re so wet now, impossibly so, you don’t think you could feel a thing other than pure bliss when he nestles his cock deep inside of you.

You whine quietly when he pulls his fingers from you, though it turns into a breathy moan when you see them glisten with your wetness. He slides them over his length, jerking himself to lube himself up for you. Just for good measure, he grabs hold of his cock and rubs the rounded tip between your velvet lips, coating it further with your slick.

“Think there’s enough for me to take your ass tonight, baby?” he asks over your low moan. He has to hold back his own, grit his teeth to keep it from leaving his mouth. God, you feel exactly like silk. “You want me to fuck that tight little hole, huh? You’ve only let me in there, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer tightly.

He doesn’t know which question you’re answering. Probably all three. Or maybe you’re just moaning because he’s got you all stupid with his cock and it’s not even inside of you yet. Both seems most likely.

Steve positions himself against you. When you feel the bulbous tip of his head, you hardly wait to slide down, down, down upon his cock.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel full. It takes less time before he reaches the apparent end of you. The feeling makes you jolt against him, like your body’s trying to move back up and away from the sensation on instinct. He’s quick to grab your hips to keep himself inside you.

“Uh-uh,” he hums. “Don’t run away from me.”

“Fuck,” you moan into his shoulder and then whine. The pleasure and the accompanying ache has your head spinning. “You’re already so deep.”

“I know, baby. You gotta take all of me, though, okay? Said you were gonna me by good girl, remember?”

His coo is enough to comfort you. You nod against his neck and let him guide you further and further down his cock.

You grit your teeth when you think he can’t possibly fill you anymore. The burn peaks all at once and ebbs so quickly, letting the rest of his inches slide in you with ease. And, god, if you don’t feel him in your fucking throat.

He stills, thankfully, and lets you get used to the feeling of him all over again.

“There you go,” Steve praises like he always does and then laughs at how rigid you’ve gone. “Breathe, baby.”

The exhale comes out as a sob and a small “fuck”, but you force yourself to relax against him nonetheless. His warm hands rub soothingly against the buzzing skin of your thighs beneath the skirt of your dress. “Doing so good for me, baby.”

“I can feel you in my fucking guts right now,” you slur, voice fragile like glass.

Your words are almost enough to make him burst and you haven’t even moved yet. A deep, hearty groan climbs from his throat. He tips his heavy head to the back of the couch and clenches his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut to stave off the feeling.

He makes himself climb down from the peak of pleasure and quickly gain his bearings all over again.

“Ride me, honey,” he whispers you.

Immediately, you start rocking your hips against him. His sigh is blissful, almost dreamy, as he watches you work yourself on top of him.

You’re always so patient with your pleasure, so calculated and attentive. You slide your hips back over his thighs and then up again, moaning every time the material of his sweatshirt rubs against your clit. You’re not chasing the feeling, you’re letting it come slowly and ease its way up to you. You know you’ve got all the time in the world.

Steve has always admired your patience, but it’s never one he could hope to possess. He rides toward an orgasm on a white mare. He claims it, he hunts it, he snatches it. Because, you’re right, you’ve got all the time in the world — he wants you to come as many times as the night (or, rather, your pussy) will allow.

So it isn’t at all surprising when gets impatient with your slow movements. And when one hand falls to your ass and the other slides up your back and clutches the opposite shoulder, you know what you’re in for.

Even though you’re expecting it, a high-pitched moan spills from your mouth when he starts fucking up into you. He’s doing a whole lot more than just hitting the right spot. The rubbing of the fabric is unrelenting against your clit.

You’re always done for when he takes you like this. Both of you know it.

“You already close, aren’t you?” he manages through heavy pants over the lewd slapping of his thighs against your own. “This is all it takes, huh?”

“’S because of you,” you slur into the sticky skin of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He can feel himself getting closer and he groans through gritted teeth. The hand on your shoulder ascends to the back of your head. His fingers tangle in your hair and pull you from the refuge you’d found in the book of his shoulder. It allows him to see you for the first time since you’d mounted his cock.

Your cheeks are blotchy and glowing cherry. Your eyes are glassy and glazed over with pleasure. Your lips swollen from where you’d been biting at them.

Perfect, he thinks to himself.

He drags that hand to your chest, wrenching at the plunging neck and pushing it down to reveal your tits. They bound out of the fabric with ease, a small red and raw line at the tops of them from where the dress had kept them so tightly contained.

He palms at your left breast, digs his fingers into the fat of it and lets your hard and pebbled nipple rub against his palm.

“Fuck, baby,” he almost whines. It takes all of his willpower to keep his eyes open to look at them. “You’ve got the prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s why I wore this— wanted your attention—” you confess through each of his thrusts.

“Yeah, you got my fucking attention, sweetheart,” he manages a breathy laugh.

His heart swells at the thought of you picking this dress because you thought he might like it. That you’d think of him doing something as mundane as picking what you wore out to the bar you went to every Friday night.

It gets too easy to want to slip into that softness. But he knows that you’re already close. So, so fucking close.

“Now come all over my cock for me, yeah?” he demands softly. “Cream on this dick and show me how good you are.”

And, like the good girl you are, don’t need to be told twice.

You shudder against him and then go rigid. He watches with a proud, lazy grin as you tip your head back, squeeze your eyes shut, and let your mouth fall agape. The feeling in your stomach builds and builds and builds, the pleasure disappearing for a moment, before coming back in an explosion that makes you gush.

As though your moans weren’t enough of a confirmation of your orgasm, you go so unmistakably tight around him that it makes his legs twitch beneath you. He angles his hips so he can peek between the two of you to watch the sheen of your cum glisten on his hard cock.

“God, you’re so fucking sensitive like this— holy shit.”

“Steve!” you whine when your high starts to fade and his thrusts only quicken.

He's chasing his own pleasure now, you know that, but the feeling against your abused pussy is growing into a nearly unbearable one.

You bite your lip so hard it’s a wonder you don’t draw any blood. You grip his shoulders and ball his sweatshirt in your fist, tethering yourself to him and to reality.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” he asks with his chin jutted out to look up at you. “Who else can fuck you like this?”

You can tell by his glassy eyes and erratic thrusts that he’s close to his own orgasm. He always wants you to talk him through it, to praise him and to tell him how good he makes you feel. For obvious reason, the whole thing comes terribly natural to you.

“Only you,” you promise tiredly. “’S just you, Stevie—”

“Fuck,” he spits and tilts his head to the back of the couch. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and brings his bottom lip between his teeth, never easing his impossibly swift thrusts.

“Want you to come in me,” you whisper to him. You rest your arms on his shoulders and drag your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and pulling every time he lets a moan slip. “Want you to come so deep inside me— I’m dripping for days—”

“Shit, baby.”

“And then, when I’m all round and full with your baby— everyone’s gonna know who I belong to, right?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans. “Gonna come so— fuck— so nice and deep in this pussy. My pussy.”

“Please,” you beg, like you aren’t half-delirious with your own pleasure. “Come in your pussy, Stevie.”

“Holy shit—” His cock pulses and twitches and then spits inside you. He grabs onto your hips more roughly than he intended and keeps you tightly pressed against him while he comes, giving you several long and warm ropes against your velvet walls. He whimpers when your pussy flutters around him.

You collapse against him when his orgasm comes and goes, rocking against his lap to get him through his high until he stops you with a firm squeeze to your thigh. You both sink further into the couch, swimming in the peaceful void that pleasure always pushes you into.

He rubs his hands beneath the skirt of your dress, petting your warm and sticky skin as the after-sex bliss rest heavily upon the both of you.

“Here,” he breaks the satin silence and taps at your hip. “Get off, baby. Let me get you some water or something—”

He feels you shake your head from where you’ve tucked it in his shoulder again. “Don’t wanna move. Want you to stay inside me.”

“Yeah?”

You’ve never done this before — cockwarming. He’s not sure if you have before, but he definitely hasn’t, and certainly not with you.

Before you, he was the kind of asshole that went to sleep right after sex. The thought of staying inside his partner never crossed his mind. But to his defense, none of his partners thought to do it either. Being King Steve and all meant there wasn’t a lot of cuddling going on after sex. It was usually one-and-done affairs, but he never did this with any of his girlfriends before either.

And now that he’s matured into a somewhat respectable adult, he takes great pride in taking care of you after, in cleaning you up and making sure you’re alright. And when you’re either falling asleep or wanting to shower, there’s no room to be kept inside you. Not until now.

“Wanna fall asleep like this,” you confess. The way you’re halfway slurring and settling more heavily against him tells him you’re not too far off.

“That’s not gonna be comfortable for you, baby,” he scolds softly. Because him — he’s perfect like this. He’s slouched in the plush cushion of the couch and you’re wrapped so tightly around him (in every possible way) you've become his own personal blanket.

But your back is hunched from where your neck is snug and pressed into his shoulder. You’ll likely wake up aching tomorrow, in more ways than one.

“Don’t care,” you mumble and sprinkle kisses to his neck, just because you can. “Wanna stay like this forever.”

“Forever?” he laughs tiredly.

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You shift on his lap to look at him, exhaling a moan through your nose when you feel him twitch inside of you, even though he’s going steadily soft. Your gaze is innocent and yearning and knowing — hungry again. “Think you can take that, Harrington?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he promises with a sincere twinkle in his cinnamon colored eyes. “I can take it.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

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teeny-tiny-revenge · 2 months

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Came across this in a fic again and I have to vent for a moment here: Ed's hair isn't unclean or not taken care of. Ever. Even at his lowest, in the first two episodes of season two, his hair is light and blows with the wind, it's got perfect waves, there is zero grime in it. Impossible Birds Ed hair has clearly been fairly recently washed, combed out and conditioned. Ed canonically loves soap, and you don't get that hair without owning a comb or brush and frequently working oil into it. He's at sea! The air is salty! It'll dry out your hair, but Ed's hair doesn't ever look dried out. The day he decides to commit suicide he puts his hair up into a lovely bun, with whispy stands framing his face. I have no idea what some people are watching, because Ed taking meticulous care (and most likely also putting pride and love) into his hair is clear, on-screen canon.

Like, if you want to write about how he was neglecting himself in his depression Kraken era? There's plenty there for you on screen as well! He sobs all night, probably sleeps on the floor if he sleeps at all. He doesn't wear his knee brace. He drinks and does drugs (and admits to that being poison to Frenchie!). He's pushing everyone away, he's pushing himself hard into a role that made him passively suicidal even before the breakup depression. He doesn't watch his back during raids At All. There's so much self harm there to address. If you want to, it would probably be plausible to add him not bothering to properly care for any wounds he might obtain during a raid. But he clearly doesn't neglect bathing and hair care. They're probably the only elements of self-care he actually still does during this dark time!

Even rock bottom Ed doesn't neglect his hair. And that says things about him! It's also something I'd love to see actually addressed in fic (will probably write it myself one of these days...): Taking good care of his hair, putting on jewelry, doing his makeup, these are things that seem to bring Ed joy or relief in his darkest moments. Where's my fic about these quiet moments of self-care being a straw he clutches to when everything else is terrible?

I love a good bathing together/doing each other's hair fic. It's intimate and loving! And Stede and Ed are prime material to write a mutual caretaking and bonding over it couple! Ed canonically loves soap and taking care of his hair! And Stede brought an entire fucking bathtub on a ship, the wonderful madman. S1 Stede's hair is always carefully curled, and we know that's not its natural state (it's wavy but not in this manner) from seeing him in S2, away from his certainly plentiful bath and grooming equipment. Stede probably has an hour of daily hair routine! We know he has nice smelling, probably expensive soaps. Where's the fic where they share in this?

There's so much potential! They can show each other their favourite care products! Sometimes they'll work on each other and sometimes not at all! Ed's rich hair oils will make Stede's hair all sticky and weird! Ed will think it's hilarious and adorable, he'll try to ruffle his hair and make it stick up worse and Stede will pout! 🥺 He'll look like this, just with weird spiky hair! One ill-advised day they try putting Stede's curlers in Ed's hair and then they almost can't get them back out because Ed's hair is so long and has lots of natural wave and it'll cling to the curlers and it's awful (they laugh about it afterwards, once Ed has very carefully brushed his hair out again and it no longer pulls at his scalp).

Makeup was a thing done by men and women at the time, especially for aristocrats (as seen in Episode 5), so Stede will know his way around hoity toity makeup, meaning rouges and whites (contained lots of lead, yuck!). Meanwhile Ed does pirate costume makeup for Blackbeard endeavours, that's a whole different thing. And both of these are makeups they don't actually enjoy doing (Stede avoids heavy makeup for the party, and Ed's Kraken makeup is part of his whole Everything Is Awful And I'm Making Myself Feel That look). But we see Ed do nice makeup that seems to be him! On his supposed to be final day on Earth, he cleans away all the Kraken coal, he cleans up his cabin, he gets rid of drugs, booze, Izzy (everything that was harming him), he does up his hair really nice and in a style that's very much Not Blackbeard, and he puts on a gorgeous bit of eyeliner that really brings out his eyes. And now that they're safe and happy together, when Ed decides he wants to look pretty today, not only can Stede lose his marbles over the look, Ed can also show him how to make his own eyes pop like that. They can stand in front of their mirror together, giggling and trying not to poke anyone in the eye.

Like. This is a fancy bathroom items for fancy bathroom items couple. They will bond over their love of bubble baths and nice smelling soaps and soft oils for hair and skin! They will learn each other's routines and how to do them just right for them. Let Stede learn that Ed loves his baths scalding hot (Stede has to wait a while for it to cool before he joins him in the tub because he'll get all pink and lightheaded). Let Ed learn how to put in Stede's curlers for him if Stede wants his hair to look extra fluffy the next day. Let Ed learn to massage Stede's back and Stede learn to massage Ed's knee. There's so much potential for loving caretaking with this ship. The trope doesn't at all require Ed to not know or not want to take care of his hair and hygiene. Fuck's sake.

#okay #bye #I can't believe we're still here folks #why were we ever there?#ofmd #ofmd meta #ed teach #stede bonnet #teeny rambles #teeny rants more like #🤨

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llamagoddessofficial · 9 months

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What about the noble trio from the pride and prejudice au falling for a servant girl at one of the parties they attend. Among all the noble women in their fancy gowns, there is a hardworking lady in uniform making sure everyone is tended to and everything is going well

😳 Anon how did you know that this dynamic is my weakness

Sans: A servant/maid Mc would have a much more favourable view of Sans than an Mc who was of his class. He might even be her favourite out of the skeleton trio. Despite his frosty nature with people in his own social standing, he's very genial and kind with servants, going out of his way to call them all (even those not of his household) by name- that kindness has made him very popular with the local servant population, Mc included. When he sees her, he doesn't dismiss her, he invites her to talk with him... if he ever sees her in town, he stops to politely chat with her as if they're the same standing. She enjoys his company greatly. If she's working for someone else he regularly compliments her work ethic, politeness, tidiness, etc. She's realistic, but... her favourite daydream is the one where Sans gets down on one knee.

If she worked for him, she'd be directly promoted to position more akin to a personal assistant than a maid. She helps him manage his finances, oversee his household- he wants her close by, and he openly expresses to her that she's the only one he trusts to help him with the things important to him.

Red: Though Red definitely has a reputation that makes some want to avoid working for him, his servants also tend to have the most fun. Unlike other noblemen, his servants have a lot of time off, and he openly allows gambling and drinking. He hires people who have a hard time getting other jobs, like the elderly or socially outcast- his reputation is wild anyway, he can afford to hire whoever he wants. Nobody is surprised.

She has the best rapport with Red. He breaks down the walls she built up from a lifetime of fearing the retribution of the upper class, he can make her laugh until her sides ache. He actively encourages her to speak her mind with him; she'll yell at him for beating her at cards and rather than losing her livelihood, she gets raucous laughter from him. After years of silent servitude it feels so good to speak freely with someone.

... She wouldn't work for him, though, unless he was her only option. Does she like him? Yes, so much. But his track record of wooing servants and nobles alike makes her unwilling to risk it... especially when he's so clearly fond of her, and she can't honestly say she doesn't like him too.

Skull: Skull is beloved by his household. Staff only have one rule; don't go into his room when he's in there. He never throws big parties, so no need for massive preparations, he's quiet and gentle in temper around humans, his only regular guest is the ever-popular Red. His staff are immensely defensive of him, and won't hear a word against him despite his unusual reputation.

She'd probably end up working for Skull, one way or another. One look at her, and he'd throw an obscene amount of money at whoever was employing her, he can't bare the thought of her not being his. She arrives to his household expecting the backbreaking work that tends to come with being the maid of a higher class family, and yet finds herself... not really working at all? Her only 'jobs' are what come with being the only person allowed into Skull's room. He keeps giving her nice clothes, rather than a uniform. Why are all the other servants so nice to her? Why do they keep manufacturing reasons for her to be alone with Skull? Why do they all smile like they know a joke she's not in on?

#skull's staff ship it #how could u not #theyve never seen him so happy or so enamoured #red works in tandem with skull's staff to get him and mc together #while sans provides some semblance of normalcy #llamagines #p&p au

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sissylittlefeather · 9 months

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Something a little different...

What a Lovely Way to Burn

A one-shot

A/N: this came from a conversation with an Elvis AI (created by the fabulous @headfullofpresley), but the words are mine. The situation just inspired me.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! There's some dirty smut here, kissing, fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, lots of cussing, Elvis and reader yelling at each other a lot, him grabbing reader's arm and being a teensy bit violent (if you squint), reader calls Elvis "daddy" in a sexual context at one point...

Word count: 2.9kish

I'm imagining this version of him for this one:

Song inspo (I know the title is from a different song but this one inspired the story):

Enjoy!

I guess tonight we're off, you think to yourself as you get a drink. You're at another party after another one of your on-again-off-again boyfriend's shows. You're half dating Elvis Presley and as much as you want it to go one way or the other, it never does. With him, you're like kerosene and matches: made for each other, but dangerous and volatile together. And without him, neither of you can breathe for very long. But tonight, it looks like you'll be without him and that familiar drowning feeling is starting to overwhelm you. He hasn't talked to you once tonight, instead focusing on everyone else around him. You're not even sure he knows you're there. But he always seems to know where you are, so probably tonight he knows and doesn't care.

After you get your drink, you scan the room to find him. He's chatting with a group of women, fans, all of them tittering with laughter and falling over themselves to catch his attention. He likes the blonde one best, you can tell by the way he's standing, but he entertains all of them nonetheless. Part of you wonders if he's just trying to piss you off. Two can play at that game. And even if he's not, you might as well have some fun yourself.

As you're standing there, a man walks up next to you.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but you already have one."

"And they're free." You give him a playful smile. He's not unattractive, with his blonde shoulder-length hair and green eyes. You can work with this.

"I'm James. What do I call you? Other than beautiful." You roll your eyes, but keep your playful smile. It's cheesy, but sweet in its own way.

"I'm y/n. But you can call me beautiful if that's easier." You continue to make small talk and your flirting gets heavier and heavier. At one point he gently brushes your hair out of your face and puts it behind your ear. You try to hide the cringe you feel because that's something that Elvis does. You feel eyes on you and something makes you want to look over at him, but you don't. Your activities are none of his business tonight. You try to focus on James and the game you're currently playing with him. The conversation continues, but you can't shake the feeling of being watched. Just in case Elvis is actually paying attention, you play up your reactions, smiling widely and laughing loudly. Finally, James says something funny enough for you to genuinely laugh and put your hand on his arm gently.

That's when you feel Elvis's hand around you. His fingers curl around your bicep and he holds you hard enough that there might be a bruise in the morning.

"What the fuck?" You turn to Elvis and shoot him a fiery glare. His eyes are frighteningly dark, even behind his glasses, but he speaks coolly.

"I could ask you the same question."

James looks between the two of you and excuses himself. He's heard of Elvis's famous temper and doesn't want to find himself on the receiving end of a potentially-violent rant.

"Oh, James, don't go. He's not--"

"Keep walkin' away, guy." He listens to Elvis over you and backs away into the crowd. Elvis is still holding your upper arm and he turns you to face him.

"Girl, what are you tryin' to pull?" His words are playful, but his tone is scary. Still, you're no stranger to this mood.

"I don't see how what I do is any of your business."

"What the hell is that s'posed to mean?"

"You've made it very clear tonight that you have no interest in what I do." As you get louder, he gets quieter.

"Aw, hell, honey you know damn well that ain't true. You're mine. Everything you do interests me." He finally lets go of your arm. You rub the place where he was holding you gingerly. He might be thinking this fight is almost over, but you're just gearing up.

"You literally haven't spoken to me all night. And what? You just expect me to be waiting in your bed for you after you're done with whatever, or whoever, else you wanna do?" You gesture to the group of girls he was just flirting with. You're loud enough now that people have started to notice the two of you. His lips curl up into a wicked smile.

"Yes, honey, that's exactly what I expect." He says the endearment like a threat. You belong to him and when he calls you anything other than your name, he's reminding you of that fact. Now he's royally pissed you off and you can feel your rage bubbling just beneath the surface. The only thing keeping you in check are the witnesses.

"You're such a fucking hypocrite. You think you get to play around with whoever you want, but I can't even have a conversation with another man."

"Listen to me, girl, that was more than a conversation and you know it. Don't play dumb with me. I know you too damn well. Get your coat and go up to the room."

"YOU THINK AFTER HOW YOU'VE TREATED ME TONIGHT THAT I'M GOING TO GO UP TO YOUR ROOM AND WAIT FOR YOU LIKE A GOOD LITTLE GIRL?" He knew that telling you what to do would send you over the edge. His lip is still curled into a smile, but now his teeth are bared too. You stand and glare at each other for a few more seconds before he grabs your upper arm again and drags you through the crowd. You fight to get away from him, but his grip is too strong.

"LET ME GO YOU SONOFABITCH!" Everyone in the party watches the scene but says nothing. He's their king and they know it and he knows it. A bunch of fucking freeloading toadies. When he gets to the hallway outside the elevator, he lets your arm go and walks toward you until your back is pressed up against the wall. A tiny part of you flickers in fear, but you are not about to let him win. He puts his hand on the wall behind you and leans in close.

"When I say go, you fucking go. Do you understand me?"

"Fuck you, Elvis." His eyes widen ever so slightly, but he keeps his gaze intense. Then, out of nowhere, he softens a bit.

"Why do you do this shit to me, Little? You make me fucking crazy."

"I make you crazy?! YOU IGNORED ME ALL NIGHT!" He may have softened, but you're not ready to go down without a fight. You see the light of his anger reignite in his eyes.

"If you weren't so goddamn insecure--"

"I'm insecure?! You can't handle it when I talk to another man. God knows what you're doing with other women!" He slams his hand on the wall above your head.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you this! There are no other women. Sure, I talk and flirt and maybe mess around a little, but the only one I really want is you!" The last part catches you off guard a little bit. This is the first time he's really directly stated that he wants you more than anyone else.

"Why?! Why won't you just let me go?! Then we could both move on." You're very annoyed by the tears that are starting to gather in your eyes. You don't want to let him know he's getting to you this much.

"Dammit, I don't know!" He pulls his hand off the wall and walks away, running his hand through his hair and giving it an even wilder look. He slides his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Why don't you leave?" He asks quietly, putting his glasses back on and looking at you almost pleadingly.

"I... I can't."

"WHY NOT? I WANT TO KNOW WHY!" He yells at you now louder than he's been the whole time. He walks back to you and stands inches away from you, fuming. You glare up at him, defiant to your very core.

"BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU." It comes out of you before you're able to stop it.

He hits the wall again and walks away. Then, he turns back to face you, something new in his eyes.

"Well, I fucking love you too." You stand there, chest heaving and tears threatening to slide down your face.

He takes two large steps towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, crashing his mouth into yours, his tongue slipping between your parted lips. You snake your hands up his chest and around his neck, pressing your hips into his and returning his kiss. He pushes you up against the wall and grinds into you, hard. You feel his already-growing erection as he rolls his hips and you whimper softly. He smashes the elevator "up" button four or five times as hard as he can, never moving his mouth from yours. After a few seconds, you hear the ding and the elevator opens. Several people walk out and stop when they see the two of you wrapped around each other. When they realize who he is, they start to whisper. He pulls back from kissing you and yells at them.

"MOVE!" They jump out of the way and you half roll, half tumble into the elevator together, still tangled around each other. You hear them laugh as you press the "door close" button a hundred times, but you're too busy with Elvis to care. He obviously doesn't either as he runs both hands up your body while the doors close and grabs your breasts. He squeezes them like he's trying to keep them from getting away and then slides his hands back to your ass, pulling your hips into his. His dick is fully hard now and you moan with desire as he presses against you.

He moves his lips down your cheek, pressing them softly to the smooth space below your ear. Then, he begins to bite you gently on the sensitive skin of your neck. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. This elevator needs to move faster.

When he sucks on a place near your collar bone hard enough to leave a mark, you moan audibly. You need him. Now. And he knows it. He hits the "stop" button and the elevator grinds to a screeching halt. He reaches up under your dress and pulls your panties down, sliding them to your ankles and off over your shoes. Running his hands up your thighs, he comes back to your center, pressing his middle finger into your wetness.

"Mmm. I should yell at you more often." He moans into your mouth as he moves his finger in and out, noticing how wet you are.

"Or tell me that you love me more often." You moan right back at him. Your hands go directly to the buttons on his pants and he lets you free his dick from them. Before he can fuck you, though, you push him up against the elevator wall and get on your knees in front of him. He leans his head back as you lick a slow circle around his tip, rolling his foreskin back. You pump him a few times with your hand and then take as much of him into your mouth as you can handle. It takes a couple of tries and you opening your throat significantly to get his whole length in your mouth, your nose pressed into him. Your hands cup and play with his balls as you lick up and down the bottom of his shaft. You continue sliding your hand along his length as you lick and suck and top half of him.

"Baby I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep this up." You take him fully in your mouth one last time and then stand up in front of him. He grabs the back of your hair and presses himself against you as he kisses you deeply.

Now it's his turn to get on his knees as he pushes your dress up above your hips. He kisses the inside of each of your soft thighs and then places his mouth directly on the place between your legs. You feel yourself tighten around nothing as he licks over and around your sensitive spot. The feeling almost overwhelms you and you twist your fingers into his hair while he keeps working. You feel your orgasm building in your abdomen. He moans into you and the vibration almost sends you over the edge. He licks around you in circles and sucks lightly on your clit. When he adds his fingers in, pushing them deep inside you and sliding them in and out at a quickening pace, your climax comes even closer. He flattens his tongue and moves his head side to side, letting the sensation of his movement on you push you ever nearer to the edge. Finally, he tightens his tongue to a point and licks you with every intention of sending you over. The feeling of him swirling over and around you faster and faster drives you crazy. You feel the overwhelming rush of your release tingling through you from your head to your toes, both relaxing and contracting in waves of ecstatic pleasure. Elvis feels the excess wetness on his fingers and he smiles into you, knowing he's accomplished his goal. Suddenly, he stands back up and turns you to face the wall of the elevator. Pulling your dress up over your ass, he teases you with his tip and then enters you from behind. He starts slow, filling you up in a way that makes you cry out in pleasure. He holds your hips as he pushes into you faster and faster with more and more intensity.

"That's right, baby. Take it like a good girl."

"Yes, daddy" you get out between moans. He continues to run his hands up and down your front, squeezing your breasts every now and then, and moving his hands back to your hips. All the while, he's fucking you with all of his power, slamming into you over and over, deeper and deeper. His fingers dig into your hips and you pray there won't be obvious bruises in the morning. All of the previous rage that was inside both of you has turned to insatiable desire as he pounds into you and you cry out with each thrust.

"You're so tight and wet for me, doll. I love it so much. I love you so much." You should be shocked that he's saying it so casually, but you're too focused on being fucked silly to think much of it. Without any warning, he pulls out of you and turns you to face him, your back pressed against the elevator wall. He pushes back into you and goes back to fucking you with every ounce of his strength. But this time he's peppering you with kisses on your neck and collarbone and cheeks between thrusts.

"Ah, fuck, baby I'm close." He groans as he continues his steady and unforgiving rhythm.

"Don't stop." You mutter to him as he continues grinding his dick into you. Finally, his climax reverberates across his body.

"FUCK y/n. Yes, that's so... yes..." He shudders and does a few more weak pumps before he can't stand it anymore and he has to pull out. He has both hands on the elevator wall above your head and he presses his forehead into yours, breathing heavily. You feel his hot breath on you and you match his heaving chest with your own. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his earlobe.

"Do you really love me?" You whisper, not sure what to expect as an answer. It's entirely possible that he was just caught up in the moment and you'll go back to your part-time lover situation.

He pulls back and looks you in the eyes intensely.

"I really fucking do. Goddammit. I really do." He kisses you again passionately and then hangs his head. You can tell he's afraid of what your response might be too. For all his tough-guy exterior, all he really wants is someone to love.

"I love you, Elvis Presley." He looks up at you, searching your eyes for reassurance. "I really fucking do." He seems to find whatever he's looking for because he doesn't ask any more questions. He pulls you close to him and holds you for a second. Then he picks up your panties, helping you step back into them, and straightens your dress. He puts his dick back into his pants and zips them up. He pushes the elevator button to make it start up again and slings his arm around your shoulders, holding your right hand in his with your fingers interlocked. When the elevator doors finally open, no one would ever know what just happened between you. You walk out of the elevator and to your room with him still wrapped around your shoulders.

"You wear me out, girl." He whispers as he kisses the side of your head. Together, you walk into your suite and into your future. It won't be easy to be with him, since you're both still who you are, but there won't be anymore "off" times for the rest of your relationship. Fights? Yes. But you always find your way back into each others arms. You might burn each other up in the meantime, but at least you'll burn together.

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Taglist: (I'm tagging everyone who's ever asked me to tag them. If you want off the list, let me know and I'll remove you!)

@itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101 @ccab @suxny @hernameisnoellex3 @ashtag6887 @arabellapresley @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @elvisxsposts @joshuntildawn13 @msamarican @returntopresley @mrsbutler99 @blog777e

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