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hertzwritings · 2 years

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Pawprints

A/N: My brain is used and rotten by all my professional knowledge at this point in time, so I’m resetting with some good, old fanfiction. It’s the cure all, and I will die on this hill. Prompt: “There’s blood everywhere.”

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you something personalized – the sky is the limit, my loves!

I love y’all so much and I’ve honestly been blown away over the response to some of my stuff lately, so thank you! Remember, feedback feeds the soul (min, in particular) and my requests and askbox are always open – there’s no limits to what you can ask for, because I am me and I have none.

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CHRIS EVANS MASTERLIST

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Pairing: Chris Evans x plus sized!Reader

Contains: language, mentions of SMALL injury to Dodger (PROMISE IT’S BARELY A THING), Vetenarian!Reader, flirty Chris, smidge of angst, a lot of fluff

W.C.: 3.000

Pawprints

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, when you moved to a small town just outside of Boston to take over the veterinarian position; at any rate, you were here and it was the quietest job, you’d ever had in your entire life. Mrs. Robinson came in once a week with her poodle, because she convinced herself it was limping (it was not, nor was it the time before that), Mr. Ericsson came in with his parrot, because he needed you to make it stop swearing (it did not, but the parrot did get worse at it) and all in all, you didn’t do much. It was still only a month since you moved to Boxford, and you had wanted the quiet of the small town. It fit you perfectly after a shitty breakup and a shittier job. The quiet of your small home on the outskirts of the town, the living room facing the lake and the forest around it – you might have a shit-ton of handiwork on front of you, because the cabin was overgrown, falling apart at the seams and your foot had gone through a hole in the kitchen floor more times than you could count, but it felt like home.

You sighed and placed the last of your cups in the cupboard, finally emptying the last box – it was a relief to finally be done, especially in the sweltering heat. You felt like you could swim in the amount of sweat, your body had produced; another wonderful aspect of being a bigger girl. You glanced at the clock and decided that it wasn’t late enough to call it a night, and the fact that you hadn’t actually seen more of the town other that the supermarket, your practice and your home, made up your mind to at least see something from the town.

The walk to town wasn’t too long, and the warm evening air felt comfortable on your skin as you trekked through small and narrow streets, the soft noises of the day winding down and the evening kicking in, surrounding you. The town was small and quaint – it was pretty, with soft lights from the streetlights flooding the sidewalk leading to the post-office, while people walked to and from the grocery store, the small restaurant and the park, families hauling blankets and children in their hands. You smiled at them and waved politely at them – your eyes scanned the town square and they landed on a sign to the only bar in town. Perfect.

You stepped inside, the smell of beer and peanuts flooding your senses, and you walked straight to the bar, ignoring the stares that followed you. New people in a small town were bound to draw a few eyes. The bartender smiled politely at you. “What can I get you, doc?” you laughed a little under your breath. “I’m not a doctor, I’m a vet.” “Same difference here.” He winked at you. “What will it be?” “Double whiskey, please.” He nodded and pulled down a bottle from the top shelf, before he winked at you. “You deserve the top shelf-stuff. Don’t worry, no extra charge.” You chuckled and gratefully took the glass from him. Another voice sounded from your left. “Hey, Henry, can I have whatever beer is the coldest?” It sounded familiar. You turned your head a little and almost threw up. Holy shit. Blue eyes locked in with yours, and a soft smile played on his lips. “Hi.” You gulped and tried to fix the sudden dry spot in your throat. “H-hi.” You stuttered. The bartender placed a cold beer in front of him, and turned to you. “Don’t worry too much about it, that’s the general reaction he gets from anyone under the age of 60.” You both laughed at that, and he turned to you fully, extending his hand to you. “Chris.” You nodded. “Kind of knew that.” You grabbed his hand and shook it. It was warm and slightly rough. “I’m Y/N.” “Oh, shit, you’re the new veterinarian, right?” He asked, letting your hand go and grabbed his beer. “Yup.” “Can I ask why on earth you moved here? It’s… Uhm…” he trailed off and you didn’t miss the way his eyes zeroed in on your lips as you licked them. “Uneventful?” He nodded. “Uh, well… I guess I needed it. Besides, it was my old teacher who ran the practice here, and I was pretty close with him, so it seemed perfect for me to take over.” You shrugged. “I have to know though, what you’re doing here? I thought you were a big-city-boy?” He chuckled. “I used to be. I needed the freedom a little, after both L.A. and Boston, I guess. I like to be able to walk Dodger around without having a camera or five in my face.” “That makes sense.” He smiled at you. “Where did you move in? I didn’t think there was any listings in town?” He took a sip, leaning against the bar. His bicep was bulging out of his tight t-shirt and it took you a moment to focus on talking. “Oh, there wasn’t. I actually moved into the lake cabin.” You said and grinned at his expression. “I know, yeah, it has… A few issues.” “Y/N, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is literally a gust of wind away from collapsing.” You laughed along with him – you felt warm and slightly giddy, while also in awe that this man, this absolute God was talking to you willingly. “Maybe so. But I’m working hard to make it a little sturdier.” You said with a shrug. “It’s a little difficult with a small toolbox from IKEA, but I make do.” “Oh no, that won’t do. You at least need a powerdrill that can do something.” He said with a grin. “My powerdrill is perfect, thank you very much.” You finished your drink and stood. “I should get back, or Mrs. Robinson will be very upset with me tomorrow.” “Of course.” He grinned. “Uh… Can I, maybe walk you home?” he asked, and you were surprised by a soft blush on his cheeks. Without thinking about it, you answered. “Sure. I’m still a little lost on the trails, so…” “Cool. I’ll pay, hang on.” And with that, he paid for both of your drinks and left the bar together.

As soon as you were out of the town center, and the sidewalk turned to gravel under your shoes, you opened your mouth. “So you’re not… Like a serial killer or something, right? Who just uses fame as the best cover ever?” You asked, only halfway joking. He laughed hard, his hand flying to his chest. “No, I’m not, but I commend you for asking the question after we are out of eye and earshot, in the darkness and in the woods. Very good on survival-skills, Y/N.” “Damn, I didn’t even think about that.” You mused. “Well, can we just make a deal that you don’t kill me, then?” “Sure thing.” You walked a little while without talking, until he cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’m sorry if I seemed forward. It’s just a little rare that people my age shows up around here.” “You don’t even know how old I am. Or if I’m single.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “For all you know, I might be 45 and married with seven kids.” He chuckled. “That’s true. So… How old are you, and do you by chance have a husband and seven kids, I need to know about?” You shook your head. “No husband or kids. Thankfully dodged that bullet. And I’m 27.” “Oh wow, you’re younger than I thought you were.” He said quietly. “And what do you mean dodged that bullet? Kids or the husband?” “The husband. I’m not that young, Chris. Full adult here.” “Want to talk about it?” “My age? Pretty self-explanatory. See, I was born…” He laughed and you nudged his shoulder – well, more like his elbow, because he towered well above you. “Ha, ha, funny girl. No, the husband. Or lack of him.” You sighed. “I, uh…” Somehow, you found yourself pretty comfortable with him around, and it seemed as easy as it was talking to your friends back in the city. “Well, we were together for a long time. Almost five years. He proposed and took it back three months later, because he found someone else.” “Ouch.” “Not the worst part, if you can believe it.” You said bitterly. Your house was appearing out of the darkness. “He told me it was because I gained weight. I wasn’t… I don’t know, sexy, I guess, anymore. So, he found a blonde, tall and skinny model-type, who doted on him. More than I did, anyway.” “Holy shit, he’s a douche.” Chris said, stopping dead in his tracks. “I mean, I barely know you and I think you’re a catch.” You felt your cheeks heat up. “Thanks, but you don’t have to say that. I’m pretty used to…” “I’m not saying it out of pity. Seriously, I… Okay, so… You can ask Henry and he’ll tell you I never willingly talk to anyone. You kind of drew me in. He’s a douche, your ex, Y/N.” You scoffed. “I wish I knew that five years ago.” You looked to your house. “Uhm, this is me. I guess I’ll see you around?” He nodded and sent you a boyish smile. “I guess you will. Goodnight, Y/N.” “Goodnight, Chris.” He turned to leave, gravel crunching under his feet, and something clicked inside of you. “Chris, wait!” You yelled after him and jogged to his side. He turned quickly to face you. “Give me your phone.” You asked, and he handed you it willingly. “Why?” He asked, while you punched your number in and gave it back to him. “Uhm… Well, now you have my number. In case, I don’t know, you need some vet-assistance. You can call or text if there’s anything you need.” It was half true – you also just kind of wanted him to have your number. You grinned and he echoed your grin – his eyes lit up even under the cover of darkness. “Well.. Thank you, Y/N. Sleep tight, honey.”

When you laid down in bed, you saw your phone light up with a message from an unknown number.

Unknown: Just in case you need the powerdrill. 😉

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It was only two days later, after you had already dozed off, when your phone rang, and Chris’ name lit up your screen. You answered groggily. “I know I said anything you need, but it’s a little late…” you mumbled, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “It’s Dodge.” His voice was panicked. “I don’t know what happened, I don’t… He’s, God, I let him out, and there’s…” He was panicked, that’s for sure. You could hear how shallow his breaths were, and all traces of sleepiness disappeared from your body. You sat straight up and fumbled for your lights, turning them on and quickly throwing your sweatpants and a hoodie on. “Y/N, please, there’s blood everywhere.” “Okay, hay, it’s alright. I’m on my way, okay? Is his breathing normal?” You asked, putting him on speaker to throw your hoodie on. “Yeah, I… yeah, I think so. He’s limping.” You nodded. “Okay, Chris, I need you to text me your address. I’ll drive to you as fast as I can, okay? Make sure he tries to drink some water, and keep an eye on him to see if he gets sleepy.” “Ye-yes, yeah, okay.” He hung up and you practically jumped into your sneakers and out into your car, praying that the piece of shit would start. It did, and you put your phone in the cupholder, GPS on and found the address he had texted you.

You knocked on his door – the big door that belonged to the big house with the other side of the forest behind it – with your go-bag over your shoulder. He opened quickly. “Thank you so much!” His eyes were wide, and he looked just about ready to cry. “Yeah, no problem. Where’s the best boy?” You asked, toeing your shoes off. “In here.” He led you through his hallway to the living room (which was beautiful and kept in neutral colors, with dashes of forest-green added here and there) and your eyes found Dodger immediately. He was laying on the floor next to the fireplace, pawprints of dried blood around him. “Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you, yeah?” You slowly extended your hand and he leaned against it, allowing you to scratch him behind the ear. “I had hoped it would be in a different way, but nonetheless…” You let your bag fall to the ground gently, and turned your head to Chris, who was biting his nails. “Chris, can you go and get two clean towels and wet them both?” He nodded and rushed to what you presumed was the kitchen. “Alright, Dodge, what’s up with you, huh? Scaring your dad like that…” You chuckled when his tail wagged. “At least your mood is good.” You looked at his eyes and felt his nose. “Buddy, I’m going to check you, okay? I promise I’ll be good if you don’t bite.” He woofed gently and you took it as a sign of goodwill, and began slowly inching your fingers through his fur, around his neck, down his tail and finally, his paws. “Ah, there’s the culprit.” You mumbled to yourself, and Chris knelt next to you with the towels. “Can you give him one of them to just suck on? Sometimes it’s calming to them, and we’re making sure he’s getting fluids.” He nodded and followed your instructions. “He was outside?” You asked, feeling Dodger’s hindleg. “Yeah, I… I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t more than a minute, and I just looked down and there was blood…” he drew a deep breath and you smiled reassuringly at him. “Dodger is going to be just fine. He got cut by something, see?” You held the paw up, and sure enough, a gash was at the bottom – it wasn’t too deep, and wouldn’t require stiches, because it had already stopped bleeding. “Oh, thank God.” Chris closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you. I always panic when something happens to him, and I just…” You shook your head. “it’s fine. It’s what I’m here for, remember?” You smiled softly at him. “But we’re not totally in the clear yet. I need to clean the surface of it, and I need to give him a shot, just in case.” Chris paled. “I promise, it’s fine and he won’t even notice me giving him the shot.” “Honestly, it’s not him I’m worried about. It’s me. I hate needles.” He confessed and you laughed a little, nuzzling Dodger’s fur. “Aren’t you covered in tattoos?” You asked, while searching your bag for the necessary things. “Yes, but I don’t see the needle there.” “Ah.” You worked fast and fixed the shot quickly. “Okay, then do me a favor, okay?” He nodded. “I need you to just hold and cuddle Dodge while I give the shot. Don’t look at it, okay, just keep your eyes on me.” “That won’t be a problem.” He said quickly and blushed. “Wow, flirting, are we?” You joked. “Not that I mind.” You added quickly. “I would hope not. I mean… It’s kind of hard not to look at you, have you seen yourself lately? Gorgeous.” He chuckled and held Dodger’s head in his lap. “Okay, just… keep your eyes on me, okay?” You blushed and began stroking a spot on Dodger near his stomach, that made him visibly relax and quickly gave him the shot. He didn’t react at all, and was being a very good boy, even when you cleaned the gash with antibacterial wipes. “Good boy, Dodger!” You praised and both he and his owner seemed happy to receive the praise. “I got you something, boy…” You fumbled for a moment and pulled out one of the surefire winners in the treat-book and gave it to him after Chris nodded to you, agreeing. Dodger took it happily and trotted off in no time, barely limping. Chris fell back against the backside of the couch, closing his eyes.

“Seriously, thank you. I don’t even know what to say other than that.” “No worries, I am here to help.” “I wonder what he stepped on.” “I can help figure it out with you tomorrow?” You suggested with a nervous smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiled, and you moved to sit next to him, shaking slightly. “I hope it’s not too much, but, uh… Do you think you can stay for a little while? Just to make sure he’s good?” You nodded. “Of course. Anything.”

And that’s how you spent the night. You moved from the floor and the backside of the couch to actually sitting in the couch after a while, talking easily with him, and flirting even easier – he made you feel safe and comfortable, as you talked and laughed until the sun came up. You talked about everything and nothing, and he was not shy from flirting with you, which you weren’t one to not return tenfold to him.

“You know, we should go find whatever he cut himself on.” Chris said with a slightly hoarse voice. You had talked through the night. “Yeah, and I should get home after. I have a giant hole in my kitchen, I need to fix.” You said, standing up. “I mean… We could come with you? I’m real’ handy, miss.” You laughed. “And Dodger is a pro at finding spiders, so you’ll be spider-free and hopefully hole-free.” Dodger wagged his tail and woofed gently.

How could you say no to that?

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chxrryhansen · 3 months

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

Pairing; Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings; smut, dark themes, non con, breeding kink, oral- both receiving, degrading, size difference, unbalanced power dynamic, huge daddy kink, choking- to the point reader can’t breathe, dumbification, dacryphillia, spanking, steve is very dark in this, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Steve Rogers, your boyfriend, the man everybody loved, his soul soft, standing against all evils. Until he got a taste of that sweet power. He became hungry. Now, you have no choice but to obey his rules. Can you bring him back to the light? Or is it too late? (it’s definitely too late)

here we have my first ever full fic! firstly i would like to give a huge thankyou to @dbnightingale24 for giving me the confidence and tips to write this! and another big thankyou to @evansbby and @hansensgirl for inspiring me in the first place for begin writing💘it’s around 3k words and i really put my all into this so please don’t forget to comment and reblog, i would love to hear all of your feedback!🫶🏻 much love, cherry.

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Steve Rogers, the man everyone respected, the man everyone believed in, looked up too. The man you used to cherish, his sweet boyish nature drawing you in from the moment you met. His pearly blues that used to soften as they fell on you, his gentle touch as he caressed your hair, the tender, loving kisses he used to leave all over your body.

Until Fury resigned that was.

Steve was officially the new director of shield, to which nobody opposed, i mean, who would right? He was Captain America, the man out of time. He was perfcet for the role. Strong willed, commanding yet understanding, he had respect for those beneath him and most of all he was compassionate, something that was hard to find in a good leader. This didn't last for long, of course.

Steve shortly became power hungry, his morals became more sick and twisted as his methods became more sadistic. He was violent, cruel…volatile. There was no bringing back Steve Rogers. The problem was he dragged everybody else down with him, nobody dared to stand up to Steve, too frightened of the consequences.

Tony couldn't talk Steve down, he tried for a while, attempted to reach out to him, guide him back to the light...but nothing worked. Tony couldn't do it, nor could you, not even his best friend of over a decade could sway his newfound mindset. You all figured it was best to keep your heads down from now on and follow Steves orders, no matter how out of line they seemed.

Not that you had a choice anyway.

Bucky was short to follow in his footsteps as his second in command. Both cruel and unforgiving. Your friendship with Bucky was practically non-exhistant, you no longer had movie nights together, giggling with big buckets of popcorn.

A simple nod of his head as he passed you down the hall was about as much as you would get. Steve wouldn't allow it now anyway.

Steve's display of affection changed alongside him, the love he made was no longer passionate, or gentle. In fact, he didn’t make love at all anymore… what he made was simply rough, hard, fucking.

The marks he left behind were no longer loving hickeys while he whispered in your ear, moaning sweet nothings as he gently thrusted his hips into your own. His eyes, gleaming with nothing but pure devotion.

They were bruises... bruises from how hard his hips slammed into your ass from behind, his grip tight on your hair, pulling and tugging as your skin became flustered at the impact of his thrusts. You missed the man he was. You often thought about that life while his cock was busy destroying your cunt. He didn’t care about your pleasure anymore, you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck.

From a distance you could hear Steves heavy boots storming down the coridoor. The sound was instantly unsettling. Your body recognising the noise as a trigger for an oncoming threat, sending you into alert mode.

You stood from your office chair on shaky legs, your posture rigid as he turned the corner to enter. His 6'4, stoic figure coming into view, casting a shadow that filled the room. His broad shoulders spread wide, his presence making your tummy tighten with unease.

He said nothing as he stared down at you, your fingers tugging at your short pink skirt- which he had chosen out for you this morning, the same way he customised your figure every morning. Claiming your dumb, baby brain was incapable of choosing an outfit that proved elegance and professionalism. In reality it was the complete opposite.

He liked to dress you in short skirts, ones that left little to the imagination, your asscheeks peeking out most days and revealing blouses, your tits practically spilling out of your shirts. You were highly sought after by the males at the compound before he came and scooped you up a few years ago.

They knew you were his, i mean he was your boyfriend for several years, you were what the female agents used to coo at, naming you as "couple goals". Where Steve went, you went, and vice versa. You were always seen smiling and giggling together, tag teaming on missons and holding hands as you explored the compound.

But, as steves power grew so did his insecurity. His possesive nature grew strong, wanting, no, needing to show other men you belonged to him, and only him. And you always would, whether you liked it or not.

"Get on your knees."

"Wh-What?"

"Get on your knees. You know i don't like to repeat myself." he growls while pushing your office door closed with one arm from behind, not daring to take his eyes of you.

You gulped as he stepped forward, caging you inbetween his thick biceps as you lean against your desk. One thing he was always good at was making you feel small. Even before all of this. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as it was now. He used to joke about how tiny you were compared to him, how he could pick you up with one hand, it was cute how big and protective he was of you.

Now, he used it to his advantage. He knew you feared him. He knew that you knew, you would never be able to run from him. He would overpower you every damn time with his brute strength.

There was no running from Steve Rogers. His thick beard scraped against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine as he groaned into your neck, your scent driving him wild.

He whispered darkly in your ear "Final chance. Get on your knees. Now, or you won't like what'll happen if you refuse me again."

You inhaled sharply, goosebumps spreading across your body in pure fear, or ecstacy. It was hard to tell these days. Steve had conditioned you so well to his own liking that even your body reacted to him in ways you would never fully understand. Or so he says.

Slowly you inched down towards the floor with your knees bent. The cold, rough flooring instantly proving to be uncomfortable as you figited. But Steve didn't care about that, why would he? His thick hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him through hooded eyelids.

His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, he then pushes further, massaging your tongue as saliva begins to pool in your mouth. Removing his thumb slowly, he tugged on your bottom lip with pinched fingers. Before you even realised what was happening he shoves two fingers down your throat.

You sputter and gag around his thick digits, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the hard floor. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain as tears began rolling down your flustered cheeks.

His other hand is quick to grip your hair, tugging harshly. "You fuckin' look at me while daddy gags you with his fingers. Actin' like you don't get off on this shit. You love it. Say 'thankyou daddy'." he mocks with a high pitched tone.

Desperately trying to get the words out, you mumble around his fingers, seeming incoherent. He laughs darkly at your poor attempt, shoving his fingers deeper down your throat, gagging you one last time before pulling out.

"You gonna' be a good whore n' suck my dick? Huh? You fuckin' slut." His hand reaches down, pulling your shirt to the side, making your tits spill out. You hear him let out a loud groan, his pants tightening at the sight of your bare chest. He pinches your hard nipple roughly, rolling it roughly inbetween his index finger and thumb as you cry out, tears continuing to stream down your cheeks.

He shushes your cries gently as he begins to massage the same spot he previously assaulted making you keen with pleasure.

He had a thing for associating pain with pleasure, confusing your silly little brain into thinking the hurt he put you through was a good thing since pleasure soon followed. That he was rewarding you.

"Unzip me. Cmon' you dumb baby, take daddys fat cock out."

Listening to your own heartbeat in your ears, your head pounding with adrenaline, your fingers itch towards his pants. Which was apparently too slow for his liking as his grip on your hair tightens, making you sqeeze your eyes shut briefly before opening them, not wanting to anger him further.

You hurridly unzip his pants, reaching into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It's angry head pointing towards you as he grips the base with his other hand, slowing pumping his shaft over your face.

He pushes his bulbous tip into your closed lips, smearing his hot precum all over them. When you refuse to open your mouth he growls, pinching your nostrils closed. Feeling the air begin to leave your lungs, you gasp for breath and he's quick to shove his dick down your throat.

Gagging at the intrusion you cry harder, your lips stretching to fit around his thick length. his hips thrusting into your face as he fucks your throat harshly.

"That's it, you whore. Take daddys dick all the way down your throat. You fuckin' remember this the next time you try to refuse me."

His hand which was previously tugging at your hair moves towards your throat, holding you in a tight grip.

"Fuck... i can feel my fuckin' cock in that tiny throat of yours. Love it when you cry f' me, just makes me want to fuck you even harder, sweet girl." he grunts loudly over the sound of your gagging. Steve swiftly pulls his dick out as you keel over, coughing and sputtering, your throat sore from his brutal assault.

Before you even have a chance to gain your breath, his thick hands grip your shoulders, pulling you upright, bending you over your desk. Your legs shaking as he positions you so your ass is sticking out.

Lowering himself to the ground, he grips the flesh of your ass, squeezing roughly as he lifts up your skirt, briskly pulling your panties to the side. He shoves his nose into your pussy, groaning in delight at your sweet scent.

"Fuck i could live inbetween these slutty legs, your cunt's always ready for daddy, huh? Trained you so well." Your sticky juices smeared across your legs, dripping with desire, his facial hair bristling against your thighs making you squirm.

He mercilessly pushes his tongue as deep as it can go into your hole. You whimper as he laps up your wetness, his tongue prodding at your insides. Your arousal soaking his beard while your pussy clenched around his tongue. He pulls away for a moment, “God, how do you taste so fuckin’ good.” he groans.

Reaching back to grip his hair in your small fists, you go to push his face back into your cunt, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. His hand grips your wrist tightly, pining your arm to the desk, a sure reminder of who's in charge, seeming as you had forgotten your place. “Stay fuckin’ still or i’ll stop. Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You moan lewdly as he moves to latch onto your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Groaning into your pussy as he fists his cock.

Your eyes begin to roll back as your orgasm itches closer. Steve, realising this, pulls away once again. Your juices stringing from your clit to his lips as you cry out, your orgasm beginning to fade.

"Stop with the fuckin' whining. Daddy's gonna' fuck you now. Tell daddy how much you want his cock...Cmon. No need to act all innocent now." he pressures at your hesitation.

"P-Please daddy wan' you to fuck me."

"You can do better than that." Steve husks, giving your ass a harsh smack from behind, knowing your skin will blister from his force.

Your lips quiver as you cry, "Please! N-Need your cock inside me so badly, wan' you to destroy me for anybody else. Wanna' feel you in my cervix daddy, Jus' wanna make you feel good. Love how full you make me feel. Please...I-I'll die if you don't fuck me. Pretty pretty ple-."

and before you can finish your sentence your cut off by your own scream, his cock dissapearing inbetween your folds as he bottoms out with a singular thrust. Your legs become slack as your body spasms at the intrustion, his hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as you squirm, instinctively trying to escape his hold.

"F-Fuck, Y-Your so big daddy. It hurts so bad, p-pull out!"

"Shut up." he groans as his thick hand covers your mouth from behind. “Gonna fuckin’ dog fuck you til you can’t think of anything but this fat fuckin’ cock you dirty little slut, you hear me?” he practically growls as he begins to fuck you.

The sound of clapping skin begins to fill the room, agents around the compound sure to hear the way his dick bruitalises your cunt.

"Such a filthy girl i have, always so desperate for daddy to fuck you, even when you try and deny it, i know this sweet pussy would never lie to me." He coos in your ear as you sob, your face wet with tears and saliva.

"My messy whore, see what happens when you don't listen to me? You see what a mess you become? Fuck. You look so pretty like this, this is how you should always be, filled to the brim with my fat dick.”

Steve had always loved fucking you braindead, watching as your eyes glaze over and your tongue begins to hang out of your mouth, drooling all over yourself. It made him feel powerful, like you were dependent on him. Which you were in a sense, always so needy and desperate for him to fuck you.

The impact of his animalistic thrusts turn your skin raw as he speeds up. His arm wrapping around your waist, pressing you close to him as he spreads his legs further apart, hitting a new angle inside your pussy. You let out a loud wanton moan as his balls slap against your clit.

“F-Fuck yes! H-Harder daddy.”

“Yeah? You like that? I know you do, it’s okay. Is my little girls brain goin’ fuzzy? Huh? Poor girl.” Steve mocked, amusement clear in his tone. "M' gonna' cum. Daddy please can i cum?" you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening, a warning that your orgasm was near.

"Yeah baby? You gonna' cum for me you dirty whore? Go ahead, cum all over my dick. Can feel you clenching around me, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice."

Your cream coats his length as you let out a muffled cry, biting your lip harshly as you cum.

"T-Thankyou daddy. Feels s-so good..." you babble, your thick cream creating a ring around the base of his cock. Your weight giving out once again as Steve holds you, smirking as he watches you come undone, giving you no escape from his relentless thrusts.

His thick shaft pummeling your insides as you scream with ecstacy, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

"F-Fuck look at that... love watching your cream leak around my cock, taking this dick so good for me. Gonna' cum inside you...yeah? You want daddy to fill you up?" he groans as his own orgasm nears, talking himself through it.

"God, this cunt treats me like a fuckin' king. It's coming baby, daddys gonna cum, Oh fuck fuckkk." his hips twitch and his balls throb as his load begins to fill you, shooting out thick ropes of hot cum into your pussy. Moaning at the sensation of his warmth inside you.

“Take my fuckin’ cum. That’s it, good girl. Love watchin’ your pussy swallow my hot fuckin load, bet you love it too, hm? You slut.” he pants, exhausted from the brutal fucking he just gave you.

He snaps out of it almost instantly, pulling out without warning and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

Giving your ass a harsh smack, he steps back. You turn to look at him, your eyes glazed over. He stares at the ground with no emotion as he combs his locks with his fingers, making himself seem presentable.

Hope fills you, your heart races as you lick your lips in anticipation, wondering if he will stay to comfort you and hold you the way he used to many months ago.

But he doesn't. You get nothing but a short glance as he turns to exit your office, slamming the door shut on his way out. You slump down against the floor, a complete mess.

Your soft cries turn to sobs, breathing rapidly, your hands gripping your hair as you raise your knees to your chest. It was almost as if he had you in a trance when he was burried inside your cunt, as soon as he was done it was like the fog in your brain had cleared.

People told you there was no bringing the old Steve back, that your sweet, caring boyfriend was gone. Replaced by a monster.

You didn't want to believe them... but maybe you should've.

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imyourbratzdoll · 11 months

Note

Hi! I love your fics so much and wanted to send in a request if that would be okay with you!!💗 could you please do a lifeguard!Ari Levinson x Tiny!reader where she brings him lunch while he’s at work, she’s wearing a bikini… obvi. When she gets there she sees girls flirting and staring at Ari and she gets really jealous, size kink… smut? 😁

hey honey! thank you so much, I'm sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it.

summary - you go to surprise your boyfriend and get jealous over the women hanging around him.

warning - smut, angst, jealousy, daddy kink, creampie, breeding kink, swearing, public sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You wanted to surprise your partner. You decided to make his favourite food, wrapping it in cute packaging before putting it in an adorable picnic basket and wearing the sexy bikini that Ari had gifted you. You were happy as you skipped up, excited to see Ari, but you began to regret it as you got closer. Your man stood with tall, good-looking women around him, their hands touching his biceps, and they seemed to be flirting. Was this what he does when he’s here? Did you not mean anything? Were you too short? Many thoughts flew around in your mind, causing the green monster to appear.

You can feel your inner brat begin to make its way to the surface. With a huff, you stomp your foot and angrily turn around, not feeling in the mood to have lunch with Ari anymore. You don’t notice Ari turning his head with a smile as he sees you, which slowly turns into a frown when he catches you walking away. He growls when he realises why. These stupid bimbos are always crowding him daily, and he’s learnt to zone them out, watching out for danger. They had known he was taken, but they didn’t care, and he wished he could drown them in the same ocean he was watching.

Ari pushes the women as he stalks after you, nodding to the other lifeguard to take over for him. “Baby!” Ari huffs, breaking out into a jog as he chases after you. “Baby! Goddamit woman! Slow down!” He growls, wondering how a tiny ass woman can be so damn fast. Ari finally catches up to you, quickly getting ahead and stopping before you. He sighs when he notices the look on your face, knowing he’d have to make it up to you. “Baby girl. Where do you think you're going?”

You roll your eyes, attempting to walk past him but feel annoyed as he stops you. “Ari, let me go. I’m not in the mood. Go back to your beach, bimbos.” You grumble, and a squeal escapes as you are suddenly lifted, your feet no longer touching the ground as Ari carries you to a secluded part of the beach. Your tiny fists hit his back, gasping as his large hand smacks your plump cheeks.

Ari plonks you down onto the ground and stands over you. “Now, baby girl. You know I love you, and I’d never cheat on you, so why let your inner brat take over?” His hands rest on his hips before he kneels and crawls on top of you, gripping your cheeks softly. “Did my little baby come to give daddy some lunch, hmm? Did you come here wearing my favourite bikini and then get jealous thinking I’d rather have someone else?” A moan slips past your lips as he rubs his prominent bulge against your covered cunt. “Why don’t I make it up to you, baby.” You whine when he slides your bikini bottoms to the side and takes his throbbing member out. Ari lines the thick cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in, grunting with how tight you are around him. “Fuck, baby!”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling your walls spasm wildly around his cock as he continues to push in deeper and deeper, stretching you open from the inside. Your hands fly to his back, digging your nails into his flesh as your head flies back. “Daddy! Daddy! Oh fuck!” You whine and moan, wrapping your tiny legs around his giant body. Your screams echo as he begins to pound into you, fucking you hard and deep, marking you, claiming you.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby. Why would I want someone else when I have you, huh?” Ari growls, holding your tiny body down as he destroys you, taking you apart underneath him. His cock splits you open, drilling into you until you wither underneath him, your back arches, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as your arousal squirts out of you and covers him. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Squirt for daddy.” Ari’s hand slithers between you and plays with your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm. His balls tighten, and his cock begins to twitch wildly before thick amounts of cum spurt out of him and deep into you, stuffing you full of him. “Gonna pump you full of me, let everyone know your mine, and I’m yours as your round with my child.” You whimper underneath him, cumming at his words.

Ari leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, holding you close to him as he strokes your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. You’re my little doll.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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mavsstar · 11 months

Text

𝑀𝑦 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑎

Summary ︱Mr. Levinson lives right next door to you, the sweet, innocent college girl. Little do you know that you're Mr. Levinson's favorite neighbor. He's there every chance you need the slightest of help, maybe a little too much.

Pairings︱Mechanic!Ari Levinson x Innocent!Fem!Reader, Robert Pronge x Innocent!Fem!Reader

W.C︱4k

Warnings︱18+ MINORS DNI, Trailer Park AU, it's pretty tame for right now, pet names (Sweet Pea),cursing, reader is scared of Pronge, masturbation (m!) and I think that is all the warnings. Let me know if I missed any!

Author's note︱I am very excited for this series :) This is set around the 90s just because I feel like it fits better with the idea I have going on in my head. It has been awhile since I've written anything so I'm hoping it's not too terrible. I hope you will enjoy this! Feedback is appreciated! Follow my side blog and turn on post notifications :D

“Did you see Mr. Levinson today?” your Mother’s friend, Valerie, asked while wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nope,” you instantly responded. “Have you?”

“Already got my dose of that sexy man.” She smirked while winking at you.

Ari Levinson towered everyone he’s ever met. He stood at a proud 6'6. It was hard to miss the luscious brown locks that fell over his face and the cerulean blue eyes that you could never find your way out of. His beard adorned his jaw and hid the pump rose colored lips he held.

Even when he was doused in motor oil and dirt he was still a beautiful man. He was your neighbor and very well known at the trailer park. Ari was a woman’s walking wet dream come to life.

“He’s already up?” you asked as your eyes bulged out of your head. “It’s like 6 in the morning.”

“Of course he’s up, he’s having his morning coffee.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Only you would know that stalker.”

“It’s not stalking Y/N, it's called being an astute observer,” she retorted. “That’s besides the point, shouldn’t you be heading out by now?”

“I should be but…” you started to answer, looking out the window cautiously, “I have a feeling you know who is outside.”

“If you don’t leave now you’ll be late for work which by the way is in 20 minutes,” she reminded you, pointing towards the clock.

“Please don’t remind me.” You internally groaned as you threw your head back and rubbed your eyes.

After a few moments you finally decided to lift yourself from the couch and head your way out. Goosebumps arose on your arms as you opened the front door. You hated this kind of weather, you couldn’t be without a sweater in the morning but by 3pm you’d be sweating like a dog. You shrugged on your brother's jacket, not bothering to zip it up and closed the front door.

Just as you predicted, the person you dreaded seeing most was standing right outside, Mr. Pronge.

Robert Pronge was your neighbor and lived right across from you. Ever since you moved in he formed the bad habit of staring at you and hitting on you like there’s no tomorrow. From what you heard he was a sick sadistic bastard who liked to torture girls with pleasure. He’s had many lovers enter the trailer but seemingly none of them come back.

You didn’t like the way he makes you feel. It felt like a hungry lion stalking its predator, ready to pounce at any moment’s notice. At the same time you couldn’t help but feel hot. Everytime he was near you, your heart raced from the fear and you felt a pulse in between your legs.

“Morning Princess!” Mr. Pronge called out from his front lawn.

“Good morning Mr. Pronge!” You greeted back but only to be polite. You tried to avoid looking too much at him and instead looked towards the ground.

You heard shoes beating against the ground and you prayed with all your heart that it was someone else running. Luck was not on your side that morning. When you looked up it was the one and only Mr. Pronge.

“Where are you going Princess?” he asked. His breath was minty fresh even though his appearance would say otherwise.

“To work,” you bluntly replied, trying to open your car door.

“Aw Princess, don’t be like that,” he cooed. Once you did get your car door open, he immediately slammed it closed, almost smashing your finger in the process. “I’ll give you a ride. Come on, let's go.”

“I appreciate the offer Mr. Pronge but I can take myself,” you insisted while attempting to reopen your car door.

“Princess…” he warningly said.

Mr. Pronge didn’t like it when people told him no. The word no did not exist in his world.

“I said I’ll give you a ride.”

“Leave her alone Robert!” Ari yelled from his porch, causing the both of you to turn around. “She’s probably late for work!”

Mr. Pronge sighed as he stepped back in defeat. “I’ll take you next time Princess.”

You internally groaned at his comment. He could never leave you alone. Every morning he would play this game with you. On the bright side, you were one of the very few people allowed to tell him no and get away with it.

“Thank you Mr. Levinson!” you yelled as you got in the car.

“Anytime!” Ari walked over to Robert after you drove off. Though his eyes never peeled off from you the entire time.

“You’re always in my way,” Robert playfully commented.

Ari chuckled at the jab. Ari always had to save you from him every morning without fail. “Rob, how many times have I told you to leave the poor girl alone?” He asked as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips.

“I will never leave her alone,” he answered with a proud smirk. “Not until I make her mine.”

“Oh please! You’re old!” Ari jabbed at him. “She’s going to want a hot 20 year old guy not some 40 year old.”

“Her father was not present in her life.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Ari asked, confused at Robert’s statement.

“The girl has major daddy issues, Ari,” Robert said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All I gotta do is caress her a bit, say sweet nothings in her ear and bam! She will fall in love with me.”

“Do that and she will call the cops on you.”

“I’d like to see her try,” Robert remarked as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Besides, why do you care?”

“Because her mother is really starting to get concerned and-”

“Oh that's why you’re concerned!” Robert hooted. “You want to fuck the mom!”

“I do not want to have sex with her mom,” Ari declared with a serious tone. “The woman is stressed enough and I feel bad for her and I feel bad for the girl. I see her peek her head out of the door every morning to avoid you.”

“Ari?”

“Yes Rob?”

“Mind your business.”

The following morning was the same dreadful routine. You were trying to stall, not wanting to face Mr. Pronge though you knew he would be there. He always was. Even when you would try to leave at an earlier time. It’s like he would sleep there and wait for you.

Your mother shoved your car keys in your hand. “Sweetie, you need to go now before you’re late.”

“But what if he’s out there?” you asked with a slight hint of fear.

“Is he still bothering you?!” she questioned, her overprotectiveness coming out. “I’ve had enough, I’m going out there.”

“No! No! No!” you instantly said, jolting your hands out to stop her from taking another step. “Please don’t say anything. Mom please!”

Your pleads were granted. She stayed still as she squinted at the window, sending a silent threat to Mr. Pronge.

“Fine,” she said. “But If I hear or even get the feeling, I’m going to rip his nutsack and his stupid smirk off of him.”

“Wow,” you said with your eyes bulging out in shock.

“Sweetie, you’re too nice and a little bit–how can I put this?” she sarcastically questioned herself as she tilted her head to the side. “Oh yeah, you’re naive.”

“I am not naive,” you muttered under your breath, offended.

“Yes you are,” she said as she was walking out of the living room. “Now go to work!”

You grabbed your bag from the couch and swung it over your shoulder. Your hand went on the doorknob, turning it to open the door. You peek your head out to see if you’re one and only was out there waiting for you.

“He’s not there Sweet Pea!” Ari exclaimed. “You’re safe, you can come out!”

“Thanks!” you yelled from the door, fully stepping out. You confidently walked over to your car, happy Mr. Pronge wasn’t outside to terrorize you. Your happiness was soon cut off when you saw a complete flat tire.

“Dang it!” you cursed to yourself. You peered down at your watch, it was 6:41 A.M. You were trying to calculate how much time it would take to go on the bus and you heard the dreadful sound of boots hitting the road.

“Oh no,” you internally whined.

“Got a flat, Princess?” Mr. Pronge sarcastically asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Ari quickly stepped in. “Robert no.” You didn’t even hear him walk over to you. You looked at Ari in shock and sent a cry for help at the same time. “Leave her alone.”

“She needs a ride, I’m giving her a ride. What is the problem?” he challenged, taking a step closer to him.

“You’re not taking her.”

Robert straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “And why not?”

“Because I’m taking her. She was just getting something from her car.” Ari grabbed your bag from your hand and placed his hand on your lower back. “Lets go Sweet Pea,” he said as he guided you to his car, opening the door for you and handing you back your bag.

Robert stood in shock. Ari was taking you. And you let him. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed, he was just wondering how he did it. That lucky bastard.

The inside of his truck was bigger than you ever imagined. It was dirty and there were oil stains everywhere you looked. Wrenches were scattered across the floor along with bolts and lug nuts. The only thing that was almost impeccable was the air freshener hanging off the rearview mirror but there were five oil stained fingerprints on it.

“Thank you for the ride Mr. Levinson, you didn’t have to take me. I could've taken the bus.”

“Don’t even mention it Sweet Pea,” Ari said. “Plus I don’t think you wanted to ride with Rob now did you?”

“No,” you answered as you shook your head. “He scares me.”

“He scares you?” Ari repeated, barely shocked.

“Mhm,” you confirmed with a small hum. “He’s really big and mean. Everyone says he’s the nicest to me and if that’s true I don’t want to see him when he’s mad.”

“It’s true, he’s the nicest to you.” Ari found it weird when Robert wouldn’t constantly yell at you like he did with other people but he can see why. You’re the sweetest thing ever.

“Is that all?”

“Mr. Pronge used to bring women and–and they would come out screaming and crying. It frightened me.”

Robert used to bring women over all the time. They wouldn’t last for too long. They would run out of the house screaming all kinds of profanities after 3 weeks. You’ll never forget the moment a woman came to your house and asked if you had anything sharp. You gave her one of the knives from the kitchen. 5 minutes later the word asshole was embedded on the side of his car in big, bold letters.

You’ll also never forget the time another woman came to your trailer. She screamed while she banged on the door like a madman. When you opened the door she had red hand prints on her body and a barely carved ‘R’ on her exposed hip. She asked you to hide her because he was coming. Sure enough a minute later Mr. Pronge came, demanding you to show him where she was hiding. Luckily your brother was there to kick him out.

He could see why you were scared. Hell even that scared him a couple of times. For some reason Ari didn’t like the thought of you being scared. Hell, he could barely deal with the fact how uncomfortable Mr. Pronge made you.

When you approached the building Ari parked the car and exited out, lightly jogging over to your side and opening your door for you. He held out his hand to you to help you out of the truck, your hand delicately gripped his and he could feel the rush of dopamine releasing in his body.

“Thank you again Mr. Levinson!” you beamed with a bright smile. You raised yourself on your tippy toes and slightly bounced to place a thank you kiss on his cheek.

An unexplainable warmth rushed through him. The action was short and sweet but it made him feel weak in the knees. He would get cheek kisses from women quite a lot but it never felt like this.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.” He felt himself staring at your eyes for a little bit too long. He forced himself to look anywhere else for a brief second, making sure you didn’t grow uncomfortable. “What time do you want me to pick you up?”

“Oh it’s okay Mr. Levinson, I can take the bus or have my brother pick me up.”

“Are you sure?” he asked you again.

You nodded your head. “Thank you again! You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t even mention it,” he waves off.

You muttered a small goodbye to Mr. Levinson before taking off into the diner. He watched you go in with a small smile on his face.

Even though this was your first real interaction, he knew he wasn’t going to get enough of you. You were the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. The whole way back he thought of you. You were like a deadly plague in his mind. A beautiful, rose scented, warm plague.

Luckily your brother was able to pick you up after he got off of work. The next bus was going to come within another hour. When your brother picked you up, he was agitated.

“What happened to your tire?” your older brother asked, not amused at all.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I went outside this morning and it had a flat.”

“I helped Mr. Levinson changed the tire, it had 4 nails,” he said in a matter of fact one. “4.” he repeated as he held four fingers in the air.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized.

“You need to pay more attention where you’re driving.”

“I didn’t mean to drive over the nails. There weren’t even any when I drove yesterday!” you protested. “I only drove to the library which is 2 minutes away.”

“So they magically appeared?” he sarcastically asked. “Just pay attention please.”

“I will.”

“You left your bus pass on the table this morning. How did you get to work? ” he questioned you. “Mr. Pronge didn’t take you, did he?” He turned to glance at you with a worried look.

“No, Mr. Levinson did,” you told your brother.

“Did you make it on time?” He quickly glanced at you again, “because you are horrible at giving directions.”

“Hey!” you barked at him. “I am not horrible at giving directions.”

“Yes you are.”

“Well lucky for me I didn’t even have to tell him, he already knew where to go,” you responded, “sure did save me the hassle.”

“Did you thank him?”

“Of course I did, I’m not rude,” you responded, half hurt he would think that of you.

The rest of the ride was short but your brother took the remaining 4 minute drive to lecture you once again to pay attention. You tried to zone him out but he would snap at you, telling you to listen. You knew he did it to annoy you, it was simply too easy to annoy you.

When you arrived at home, you jumped out of the car to look at the tire. Sure you had no idea what you were even looking at but it never hurt. You bent down to look at it and you noticed one thing. It wasn’t patched up like before. It was brand new.

“Are you coming in?” your brother asked you.

You turned to look at him. “Yeah, I just have to do something really quick.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll be done cooking in 10 minutes.”

“I promise,” you told him before he went inside.

You took out a sticky note, a pen and 50 dollars that took you 4 days to earn. You used the hood of your car as a desk and wrote a sweet but short thank you on the sticky note. Afterwards you walked over to his house and placed it under the surprisingly alive flower pot he had on his front porch.

The both of you didn’t see each other for almost 2 days. You got overwhelmed with work that you barely were in the house. It wasn’t until Ari caught you late at the laundromat.

“Sweet Pea?”

You turned around at the sound of your name. “Oh hi Mr. Levinson,” you greeted him with a huge smile.

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you though he could barely pay any attention to you at the moment. You wore a thin pastel pink cardigan with a pearly white nightgown that had a bow at the valley of your breasts.

“I forgot to do my laundry this morning and I didn’t have time so I came here after work,” you told him.

“Isn’t it a little late to be working?” he questioned you.

“I’ve been picking up other shifts at work,” you said, “it doesn’t help having the extra money.”

“Speaking of money,” he began to say as he took out the fifty you gave him from his front pocket of his flannel, “you left this on my porch.”

“Yeah it’s for you,” you innocently said, “I noticed the tire is brand new and I’m 90% sure my brother forgot to pay you.”

“It’s your money, I’m not taking it. Here.” He passed the money back to you but you refused.

“Keep it, you changed my tire and I’m paying you for your service.”

“I really can’t—”

“Please,” you begged him with puppy eyes.

You pulled at his heartstrings. It agonized him, he didn’t want to take your money but he also didn’t want to make you sad. But he kept it anyway and stuffed it back into the front pocket of his flannel.

“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him as you bent down and took out your now dry clothes.

His eyes peered down for a quick second and he saw the nightgown riding up, revealing your baby blue panties. His throat went dry and he fought hard to keep his gaze up but it found itself looking back down.

“I–I realized I forgot to wash my work clothes.”

“I hate when that happens.” You came back up after you pulled out the last piece of clothing. “Then I’m stuck getting yelled at by the manager when I come in with the wrong clothes.”

Ari chuckled to avoid an awkward silence. Really it was to refrain himself from stuttering or making a fool out of himself. In his head he wanted to compliment you and how pretty your nightgown was but the words wouldn’t leave the tip of his tongue.

He took a deep breath before he spoke. “You look pretty in your nightgown,” he quickly muttered out.

Your eyes lit up at his compliment. “Thank you Mr. Levinson. It’s pretty but I don’t think I’ll keep it.”

“Why’s that?”

“It always rides up and by morning it’s all the way up here,” you pointed to your upper stomach.

Oh what he would give to be a fly in the room in the morning. He quickly changed the conversation, it was obvious you were too oblivious to what you were doing to him. Your sweet voice and innocence were driving him insane but he loved it, he secretly wanted more.

The both of you left the laundromat 40 minutes later. He insisted on carrying your basket for you. You both walked side by side. You were busy trying to keep up with him while he was busy looking down at your breasts.

“Thank you for carrying my basket Mr. Levinson,” you thanked him as you took your basket from him when you got to your front porch.

“Anytime Sweet Pea.”

You kissed his cheek once again to seal your thank you. “Sweet dreams Mr. Levinson.”

“Sweet dreams honey,” he repeated to you.

Ari was in a rush to get back to his trailer but a dear beloved friend was waiting for him.

“Well would you look at that?” Robert sarcastically asked him. “She gave you a kiss on the cheek.”

“Not now Robert,” Ari pleaded, dying to get back into his place.

“What’s the big rush to get back home?” Robert crossed his arms as he smirked, “I see you’re sporting a hard on. Surely it can’t be because of her. Right?”

“Oh shut your trap.”

“It is, isn't it?!” he gawked.

“No it’s not!” Ari protested.

“Oh really?” Robert Challenged as he squinted his eyes.

“I was about to get lucky with Kim before she came into the laundromat and interrupted us,” Ari quickly lied.

“So you waited for her to be done then walked her back?” Robert questioned Ari.

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, “otherwise she would’ve ran into you. Not to mention she’s terrified of you, fuckin’ creep.”

“Whatever. She wants me, I know it,” Robert boasted.

“Yeah in jail.”

Robert rolled his eyes and walked back to his trailer while Ari walked back into his. He immediately locked the door behind him and dropped the basket on the floor.

“Oh thank god,” Ari hissed as he unzipped his painfully tight pants.

His cock was rock hard and had been for the past 20 minutes. The pants barely gave him any friction and if anything, made it worse. He palmed himself through his boxers and moaned in relief.

All he can think about is you in the short nightgown and how he’s never been this hard before. Sure he’s been turned on but it was nothing compared to this. It was like he was a horny spazzy teenager all over again.

He freed his cock from his boxers and sharply inhaled at the impact of the cold air. The tip of his cock was bright red and oozing with precum. He used his thumb to spread his precum and use it as lube.

His eyes screwed shut in bliss when he began pumping up and down. He tried to think of the porn he watched three days ago but instead you kept popping up. He imagined you being here with him, helping him out.

“Does that hurt?” you ask him as you point to his angry, leaking cock.

“It does Sweet Pea,” he rasped out.

“Was it because of me?” you innocently ask him as you bat your lashes.

“Yes,” he admits.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you apologize to him. “Let me help you,” you tell him as you take his cock into your tiny, warm hand.

“Oh Sweet Pea,” he moans out.

“You’re s-so bi-big,” you sputter out, slowly pumping him up and down. “Does that feel better?”

He doesn’t have the strength to talk so instead he nods eagerly. “G-Go a little bit faster.”

You obey him and start pumping faster. His moans fill the room as he gets lost in the pleasure you’re giving him. Your hand is cramping but you don’t care, anything to make him feel good.

“Sweet Pea, I-I’m about to cum,” he warns you.

You get down on your knees while you still pump him. “Let it all go,” you seductively say as you open your mouth.

Ari was brought back to reality when his high overtook him and he orgasmed. It was so intense his thighs started to shake. He continued pumping and pumping until he got too sensitive he had to stop.

He stood there with his cum dripping down his hand and secretly wishing you were there to help clean it all up. The realization had hit him hard, he needed you.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months

Text

I still got a few rounds left in me

kinktober, day thirteen

a/n: ...i have such a thing for fighters, it's bad....

warnings: boxer!steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, domestic bliss, kissing, foreplay, bathtub sex

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

You felt like a little marshmallow floating atop a warm mug of hot chocolate as you laid there in the tub, staring out at the dark skyline. The melody of soft rain drizzling against the window lulled you even further as your hand lazily played with the bubbles foaming at the surface.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard, spinning your head around to spot your burly boyfriend gazing at your relaxed visage from the doorway, raindrop-painted gym clothes still hugging his form.

“Steve,” you gasped, spine straightening, “you’re home! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, well, I thought you would be asleep already, so I tried to be quiet.”

“In a bit, I just wanted to wash the day away first, you know?” you sighed, “fall back down to earth before I try and fall asleep…” Offering you a gentle nod, he then stepped further into the bathroom, a soft smile still fast on his lips as he began to peel his clothes off. You couldn’t help but giggly ask, “what are you doing?” as the fighter slowly revealed more and more of his rippling physique, his eyes staying locked with yours the entire time.

“Well, I was gonna take a shower,” his shorts hit the floor mere seconds before he planted his palms on either side of the tub, “but you’re making that bath look so good.”

As he lowered himself in, your giggle morphed into a laugh as the bubbles began to make a run for it, “you’re gonna flood the entire bathroom!”

“Then it’s a good thing we have something called towels,” fully submerged, he simply leaned in to kiss you.

Arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, the current scooped you a bit closer, your legs intuitively entangling up and over his thick thighs. As your hands drifted over his skin, your fingers paused and took time to dig into a few of the muscles on his upper back. Parting from the tender peck, you deepened your massage momentarily as you asked, “are you sore?”

With his own arms tangled around you, he murmured, “not really, I didn’t really go too hard today,” before he lifted you further up onto his lap, his broad palm firm on your back so that your chest pressed flush against his, making your soapy tits share their suds.

It took you approximately two seconds before you noticed the raging hard-on, poking you under the water, “oh my god…” you chuckled, tilting your chin back as you gazed at his smirk, “what are you trying to do, huh, champ?”

His hands slowly raked down your back before they found the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that shot directly to your aching clit, “like I said, I didn’t go too hard today, so I still got a few rounds left in me…”

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georgiapeach30513 · 9 months

Text

I Can See You

Summary: Steve was new to this modern world. And trying to figure out the technology and all he wanted was home. Looking up 1940s women, he wasn’t prepared for what he sees. You. Feeding into his every fantasy, and then some. It becomes an obsession a need to see you everyday. To have you everyday. To keep you. Every. Day. In his bed. Just where you belong

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Cam Girl!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, online sex work, cam girl, masturbation, toy play, butt plug, squirting, licking, kidnapping, obsession, dark, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2K

Steve Rogers Masterlist

“You should date,” Steve turns to look towards Natasha, glowering at her. “What? Dating is normal. What do you have against dating?”

“Dating is different now than it was when…never mind you wouldn’t understand,” he goes to stand, but Natasha pulls at his arm, “What?”

“I get it. The women now aren’t like the women in the 1940s, but is that a bad thing? Look, Google is your friend. I’m sure there’s someone out there who believes in your weird standards for women. Guess what, Steve? Some even wear the clothes, too. Google is your friend.”

Google is your friend. A sentiment that was running through Steve’s mind the rest of the day. Google is a friend. Was a friend? How could a search engine be a friend? How could he find anything that was remotely close to the 1940s in modern times. How could he ever find someone that held his values, and how would he know?

Settling in at home, his eyes scan over the stupid phone. Who needed a phone that could do anything more than call people. But there was a Google on there. Women of today weren’t hideous creatures, but there was something in the ones that he had met. They weren’t…exactly what he was looking for. Too eager and leaving nothing to the imagination.

Google is your friend, but it was just a stupid machine. Nothing ever made sense in this time. People had taken something simple and made it nonsensically more difficult. And for what reason? But there the phone sits, and if Google was a friend, how could it help Steve?

What could a machine possibly do for Steve? How could it help his need to get out some frustrations? Things weren’t the same, and they definitely didn’t look the same. But he was told Google had archived photos. And videos…

Reaching quickly to the phone, but only because he was bored, and everyone needed to get off from time to time. His fingers search for the buttons he’s looking for before he hits search. Anticipating it would take much longer than the instant gratification of women upon women, and then a short clip. Legs that were covered in hosiery, and a quick squat of the woman. Her skirt flares up, exposing her bum to Steve.

He watches that clip way too many times before clicking on it. Taking him straight to your website. Pictures of you dressed in the most beautiful 1940s frocks, and posing with the prettiest smile and brightest red lips. Unfairly there are some photos with strategically placed blocks over your body. A button demands him to click it, and there’s even more photos.

Still these photos are annoyingly blocked out, but adding a credit card he would have access to remove them. Steve sets his phone down, taking a deep breath. His cock was pressing hard against his pants at just the tease of your body. He knew what he was going to get. You. Every part of you. Playing into his every fantasy while you whimpered his name.

Standing up, he awkwardly paces his living room. He wants to see it all. It was like you catered to just him. What could thirty dollars a month hurt. He would get to wake up to see you. Go to bed stroking his cock. It wouldn’t hurt. It wouldn't be a distraction. This is what he needed.

He doesn’t hesitate to put in his credit card information, and he hears the sound of your voice, “Welcome, Soldier,” why did that sound so sexy? Not even knowing what some of the buttons mean, he just wants to look at you. You are a dirty girl. Showing every part of yourself, and watching you ride a red dildo while your tits bounce around has him quaking where he sits.

A ping in the corner of his phone makes him lose focus, ‘Thanks for the payment. What would you like me to call you?’

He couldn’t let people know that America’s golden boy was watching fetish porn, and a very specific fetish of a 1940s housewife. ‘Captain.’

‘Hey, Captain, are you new around here?’

‘Yes. Brand new.’

‘Aww, for new subscribers I always give them a private video. What would you like to see, Captain? Whatever it is you want. For your eyes only.’

‘How often do I get private videos?’

‘First one is free.’

‘I want one every morning and evening.’

‘Oh, Captain, you are a naughty boy,’ Steve’s cock trembles at your words. He just wishes he could hear your voice. ‘I tell you what Captain, let me do the first one, and you can decide after if you want to continue our private little conversations. How does that sound, big boy?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Are you hard right now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to see my pussy? I can show you what toys I have.’

‘Okay,’ he takes a deep breath as his chat turns into a live video feed, and there your pretty face was. Giving him a quick wave before turning the camera to your treasure trove of toys.

“Which will it be, Captain? Can I turn your mic on so I can hear you? I get off to men with pretty sounds?” Responding with a yes, you turn on his mic, letting him look at every toy. They were all shapes, but one particularly caught his eyes.

“That one,” it wasn’t a genius to figure out which one he was talking about. The red white and blue one. With a name like Captain, he seemed to have a bit of a Captain America kink.

“I have something else that matches,” you sweetly tell him. Moving over to something Steve had early heard about. A pretty little butt plug with his shield on the end. “You want to see me stuffed fully, Captain?”

“I would like that,” his voice cracks, and you realize just how innocent he is to this brand of porn.

“Is it because you like sharing your dames?” Steve groans out yes as you position the phone on a tripod. “Who would you share me with?”

“A friend. He…he��d get your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask as you stuff the plug into your ass. You were sure he’d love seeing you ready for him. Coming back into frame, you place the dildo on the floor, and turn to look at him. “What would you like your doll to do, Captain?” Finger in your mouth, you playfully tease him.

He would love to take his time and watch you more carefully, but his cock is angry and in desperate need of release. “I want to see…see you…I want,” the sweet boy was struggling with what he wanted to view. Stuttering, and unable to vocalize exactly what it was he needed.

“You want me to slowly,” you undo each button carefully. Steve didn’t want slow. Steve wanted to fuck you. This would work for now. But…

“No. Not slow. Put…I want to see the shield.”

“Of course you do, Captain,” it was like the angels parted the clouds, and there was heaven right in your tits. Taking off your bra, you give your nipples a little pinch before walking over to the toy.

“Don’t wait,” he mutters as you move to your knees. He tries to pretend it's his cock you’re grabbing as you sink over the cock. It wasn’t the perfect view, but he sees that red, white, and blue cock split you open. A little glimpse of that shield in your ass.

Hands in front of you, you lean forward, and there it was. That shield in your ass. “Fuck yourself. And turn back to look at me,” peeking over your shoulder you give him a sly grin. Moving over the toy.

“I hear you, Captain. How good does my pussy feel?”

“So good,” he grunts out, pumping his fist around his cock. Why had he neglected to do this for so long. “My pussy.”

“Yes, Captain. This pussy is all yours.”

“Mine.”

“It’s so warm, and wet, and…how tight is your pussy?”

It’d be tighter once he had someone to stuff your ass. Get to watch you come over two cocks, while you beg for him to pet you. “Oh, Captain, you feel so good.”

He’d feel better if that was his actual cock. “Captain, you’re so deep.”

That cock was nothing to Steve’s size. He would make you have tears in your eyes as you took every bit of his length and girth. “Captain, I love the way you feel when you’re in my stomach. You’re so deep,” you give a smirk to the camera as your juices spill onto the floor.

“Oops,” giggling. The giggles. The mess. “I made such a mess for you, Captain. You got me so wet.”

“Yeah. Go harder. Make your Captain proud,” your ass cheeks recoil as you bounce fast. Stretched out so pretty, and still spurting your mess into the floor. He’d have to spank you for being such a sloppy little slut. Make you watch Bucky’s tongue lap up all your mess.

Your cream coats that dildo, and he knows you are capable of so much more. “Captain!”

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growls, choking on his cock. He was almost there. Could practically feel your walls clench around him.

“Captain!”

“I know. Be a good girl, and come,” you scream out as euphoria shoots down to your nether regions. Wishing that he could choke you in that moment. There weren't too many things you hadn’t experienced in this line of work. But there was this demanding quality to this Captain.

“Now, be good for Captain, and clean up your mess. With your tongue,” you want to scream. That is the hottest shit you have ever heard. Demanding that you clean up your own mess. “I’d have someone help you.”

“You want someone to come play with me?”

“Yeah, but they’ll leave. You have to let your Captain take care of you.”

“And Captain always takes the best care with his pussy, too.”

“Mine,” he lets the word roll off his tongue, while you licks up your arousal. His. All. His.

——

Opening up your apartment door, you stand at the entrance for far too long. There were roses on the table. A dozen roses from the looks of it. Steve was becoming steadily more needy. Wanting to monopolize your time so you couldn’t find new clients. It was fine at first, until he became too obsessive.

Playful possession had turned into something he in fact demanded. You look down the hallway of your complex, unsure if you wanted to go in. This was a job that was for extra money, and Steve had made it clear he demanded you and wanted you when he wanted it. And now the roses.

Of course those roses could be from anyone, but you knew they weren’t. They were in your fucking apartment. They were only from one person. Him. Captain. The hall was too quiet. Just as quiet as your home. It was like you were the only one in the room. In the building.

“Steve?” You ask, taking a step back into the hall. An unfamiliar smell is surrounding you. Clean. Fresh. It was him.

“Steve?” You tremble. Ready to bolt. Anywhere but here. You had to cut him off. The money wasn’t even that good. He had lost his mind.

“Steve?” Yelping when arms wrap around your waist, but his hand covers your mouth gently. Pressing his nose to your neck, he inhales deeply.

“Honey, I’m home. And I expect you to say my name properly. I can’t have you available to any other men. Your site has been taken down. Your apartment will be swept. All those toys trashed, because you have the real Captain now. It’ll be like you never existed. Your new life starts today. And I’ll make sure you are the perfect housewife for me. Bear my children, and live to serve me. Now, be a good girl, and thank your Captain for rescuing you.”

His hand is now wet from the tears that spill onto him, and you try and shake your head no. “Say, thank you, my Captain.”

“Thank you, my Captain,” you sound like a scared mouse. And he knows it. With one maniacal chuckle he starts dragging you down the hallway. No one will ever remember you. No one will ever rescue you. You are now his. And he has no intention of letting you go.

Now…thank him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @harrysthiccthighss

#i can see you #steve rogers #steve rogers x cam girl #steve rogers x cam girl!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fics #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans characters #marvel #dark!steve rogers

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sweetsbfreex · 10 months

Text

who loves you

summary: a four month long situationship with Ari goes south when you see a text you shouldn't have

pairing: college!hockey player!ari x situationship/fwb!reader

warnings: none?

Fuck. You felt refreshed and blissed out as you sat up and stretched. Watching Ari’s bare, fit body disappear into his bathroom.

It always surprised you how he showers without his phone because that meant he showered with no music. You couldn’t imagine taking a shower without music, how else would you fulfill your popstar dreams. But alas, Ari was different from a lot of the guys you’ve previously been with.

You drop back against his bed, smiling at the ache between your legs. Ari was a lot of things and a sex god was definitely one of them.

The incessant buzzing from a phone..his phone jerks you from your blissed out state.

Bzz-bzz

Ignore.

Bzz-bzz

Ignore.

Bzz-bzz

Okay, what the hell?

You grab his phone beside you, it comes to life when you lift it.

Joy ;)

—Meet you in the parking lot after? My place?

—I’ll wear the special panties with your number on them

You squint as more texts roll in. Special panties? Her place? The fucking winky emoji by her name?

What. The. Fuck.

You stare in disbelief for who knows how long, feeling a little hurt and naive.

“Why is my phone in your hand?”

Ari stands at the end of his bed. A towel wrapped around his hips as he runs another through his shoulder length hair. Your eyes can’t really help to worship the droplets over his chest.

“Who’s Joy?” You push out the question.

You can see something change in Ari as he walks over and takes his phone from your grasp. “None of your business, why are you snooping around”

You scoff, “I wasn’t snooping! It kept buzzing and I thought it was an emergency or something. Who’s Joy?” you question again, annoyed at the way he’s avoiding your question.

“I don’t appreciate you looking through my phone. And she’s none of your fucking buisness, so drop it”

You stare up at him, subconsciously lifting his sheet to cover your bare chest.

“You’re having sex with other people?” you accuse, and deep down you're confident you know the answer, but that naive part of you is hoping it’s all a misunderstanding.

“And if I am? We’re just fucking around too. Are we not?”

Your breath stutters at his admission. Although the two of you have never stated terms of this…relationship, his actions have always spoken louder than words. Everyone thought the two of you were together. Even though he’s never formally asked you to be his girlfriend, you always had an inkling that he would at some point.

Your stomach flips thinking of his protectiveness over you, the way he’d always pay if he was there, and the way he goes out of his way to check up on you after his practices. Or the way you’re always there for him at every game, his number and name on your back as you cheer him on.

Shit, even the sex was anything unlike a pair of friends. It always felt intimate between the two of you. Your toothbrush stood next to his in his bathroom, and yours, for Christ sakes.

“Are you being serious right now?”

Ari shrugs. Fucking shrugs at your question.

“Y/n, I don’t understand why you’re upset. In no way have I ever committed myself to you.”

That stings.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” You mutter, trying to blink away the tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t.”

“Fuck you, Ari.” You seethe, dressing yourself with speed. “Have fun with Joy.” You tell him, buttoning your jeans, and gathering your shoes in your hand. Anything to get out of this humiliating scenario.

You shove your way past Ari’s confused figure. Which stops you as he grabs your elbow, “I’m not understanding what the big deal is? You’re telling me you haven’t been sleeping around.”

You remove your elbow from his grasp, “No. I haven’t. And if I did, I’d at least have the decency to let you know.” And with that, you’re out of the room.

Ari stands there for at least a minute, disgruntled and confused with what the fuck just happened. He shakes his head trying to figure out whatever the fuck he was missing.

“You’re a fucking idiot, a moron if you will. Maybe a dodo would fit better?—” Ransom laughs to himself as relaxes in his spot in the frats living room, snacking on his favorite biscuit cookies.

“Ran,” Steve interrupts the way Ransom isn’t helping. Softly shaking his head in reprimandment. “Now isn’t the time.”

Ransom only shrugs, and looks back to the television.

“I hate to say it, man. But Ransom is right, the only answer was in front of you the whole time.” Sam tosses in his opinion, clapping Ari on the back.

“Well what the fuck is it? Why is no one saying what I’m missing?”

“She likes you, Levinson.” Bucky answers, walking through the living room and out the door, his key to his motorcycle swirling around a finger. He didn’t need to know the full conversation to know what exactly was going on. He would’ve stayed to watch the aftermath, but he had a certain spicy redhead waiting for him at her apartment

Ari doesn’t mean to sound dramatic, but he quite literally feels the world tilt on its axis at the discovery. He’s admired you for a while, but never in his mind did he think he was the right guy for you. He’s seen the guys you’ve dated before and they were the complete opposite.

Intelligent, brainy, in tons of clubs, they wouldn’t do stupid shit like fighting on ice skates because it’s fun. They were guys who any mother would love.

Fuck. He can’t believe this, there’s no way.

“What—“

“Dude, you can’t be so blind, to not see how in love with you she basically is,” Ransom says around a mouth full of cookies. “The sex is probably great, but you think a chick like her is gonna wanna be around you without an ounce of admiration.”

“I think what Ransom is trying to say is: there’s a lot of telling that y/n has feelings for you, and I’m pretty sure her getting offended that you’re sleeping with other people is a big one.” Steve says.

“Fuck.” Ari groans, running his hand down his face and over his scruff.

“How would you feel if y/n told you she was screwing someone else?” Sam asks.

“Livid.”

Sam snaps his finger pointing at the dark look already on Ari’s face. “There you go.”

“Fuck. She’s not even answering my calls. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Give her time to cool. If anything, maybe she’ll be at the game?” Steve offers.

“Maybe,” Ari mutters.

But you never picked up a single call and for some reason, even picked up that Ari thought of swinging by your apartment. You had texted him to leave you alone.

And then Saturday rolled around…

“How long have you been into hockey? I’d never take you up as a sports girl. Sorry that sounded terrible—“

“It’s okay, Jake.” You laugh. “Not until this year, you’re right I’m not really into sports at all. What about you?”

“I really got into it with my dad, we used to watch every game together if we could,” he smiles at the memories.

“That’s really sweet,” you smile back, placing your hand over his.

Jake Jensen is a computer science major you befriended over your French class last semester. But the both of you basically ran in the same social groups, leading to you guys staying friends.

When talking about the upcoming game, you had let it slip that you passed the deadline to donate your ticket, and couldn’t find anyone to sell it to. Leaving you to go to the game alone or getting a strike.

Jake was kind enough to let you join him. You would’ve joined Natasha and the others, but it felt too weird to you and you wanted no chance running into Ari. Especially since you weren’t wearing his jersey like you usually do.

You haven’t spoken to him all week, minus the small text you sent, and you refused to. Even though he had tried non stop to run into you on campus.

“Have you—“ Jake starts, but is interrupted by the commentators introducing the team. Everyone stood up and cheered at the sight of the school’s players.

Ari skates out with a smile on his face, lifting a hand in the air as he waves and joins the line of his teammates. As he does so, he tries to find you, but it’s hard to distinguish you among the wave of people in the stadium. Especially since you weren’t seated in your undesignated-designated seat closer to the rink.

But he shakes it off, putting himself in the right mindset for the game.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our favorite time of the night: THE KISS CAM!”

Some players skate and others like Ari, watch the Jumbotron during the brief break.

The first is an elderly couple, then a pair of random strangers who kiss under the playful pressure, two pairs of students, parents with their children who dramatically gag. That makes everyone chuckle, including himself.

They go around the stadium one last and he cannot fucking believe it. His hand becomes around his stick.

He can feel his teammates staring at him in sympathy. But Ari cannot look away from the Jumbotron.

The first thing he notices is your flustered smile, that you came to the game sans his jersey, and the most noticeable of all is the dork sitting next to you with his arm behind your seat, looking just as bashful.

He’s livid. You’ve been avoiding him all week, probably doing who knows what with this guy.

“You know what you gotta do,” teases the commentator. You laugh behind the back of your hand. Jake sits beside you just as flustered, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb.

In no way is he against kissing Y/n, but he also doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“C’mon folks!”

You stare at Jake, shrugging a shoulder in question. Jake only smiles back before sitting up straighter. The both of you go to lean in. Your lips press softly against his until a loud smack of temper glass breaks it up.

The two of you jolt away at the sound of a disgruntled voice. You look to see Ari, “hey!” His voice booms. “Back the fuck off my girl!”

“What— who is he?” Jake’s eyebrows knit together as he points towards the enraged giant pointing a menacing finger towards him.

“An asshole who doesn’t know what he wants.” You answer, shaking your head towards Ari before you place a kiss on Jake’s cheek.

You watch as Ari stands behind the plexiglass. And even though you’re about eight rows back, you can see the confused and upset expression on his face. A pinch in his eyebrows and a pitiful glare in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry about that, Jake.”

“It’s nothing, don't worry.” He smiles, “Do you want popcorn or anything?”

“Sour patch kids, if that’s alright.”

“No problem.”

You look at anywhere but Ari during the rest of the brief intermission.

Ari 🏒🦁

—Meet me outside the locker room

—Please?

You sigh as you grab your stuff. Just before the two of you reach outside the stadium, you gain Jake’s attention.

“I’m really sorry to cut our hangout short, but I had a lot of fun. I just have to handle something really quickly.”

Jake tries not to show the disappointment on his face, “I’m gonna rightfully assume it has something to do with that ‘asshole who doesn’t know what he wants’?”

“Unfortunately,” you smile ruefully.

“Okay,” he nods his head. “I hope everything goes well. I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you hug him before you make your way outside the doors of the locker rooms, with no trouble which you can guess is because of Ari.

You smile awkwardly at the glances of Ari’s teammates. You hate that everyone has seen that happen and you assume most of his teammates know the intimate details of what’s gone down between you two. Which only adds another layer of unnecessary awkwardness. Time passes before you feel a light tap on your shoulder, looking up to see Steve at your side, a timid grin.

“The locker is all cleared out, he’s in there waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Ari?” You walk in to him tying his sweatpants.

He turns around with a mournful look on his face. His sweatpants low enough that you can see the bands of his Calvin’s; he’s shirtless so his six pack is on display and glistening from his shower; his hair is disheveled, but the ends still curl at the ends; and he has a towel thrown over shoulder.

You can ask any women how they could not be hung up on a guy as attractive as him.

“Hey,” he sends a small smile, making his way towards you.

“Wait—“ you interrupt, “We cannot have this conversation if you’re shirtless.”

He won’t argue, but he does as you’ve said and throws on some ratty t shirt in his locker. He sits on the bench in front of his locker, patting the spot next to you.

You sit beside him, making sure to keep some distance between you two.

“I see you’re not wearing your jersey?”

The audacity of men will always surprise you.

“Your jersey and is that really the first thing you want to talk about?”

“You’re right…” warily his hand grabs yours and when he sees you won’t retract from him, he brings it his plush lips. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. Seriously.”

“What you said Sunday was totally uncalled for and spiteful— and where do you get off announcing to practically the whole state that I'm your girl? And You embarrassed poor Jake for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothin’ and the douche will be fine.” He staggers at the fire in your eyes. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“That seems to be the only thing you can say,” you huff. You turn to him, needing to know the answer to this. “Are you really sleeping with other people?”

He notices how small your voice is as you ask.

He sighs and looks down for a little, before tightening the grasp of your hand. “I was.”

You stand up while trying to get Ari to let go of your hand. The last thing you want is for him to see the tears begging to fall.

Ari stands with you in haste, bringing his other hand to palm your cheek as he looks down at you. Those piercing blue eyes saying so many things at once. “Was. I was. Listen, I haven’t slept with anyone else other than you since last month. It was a moment of weakness and you can’t be mad at me for it. We’ve never made anything official, baby.”

“Do you even care about me? At all.”

It feels vulnerable and desirous, but you’re unsure how you can continue without asking.

“What? Did tonight not show you that?”

You go to argue, but he cuts you off before you can start.

Both his hands cup your face while his thumb draws circles on the apple of your cheekbones.

“I love you.”

Your breath picks up at his admission.

“It’s been months coming, but you gotta know since our first night together I haven’t slept with anyone other than Joy and that was only once. And I didn’t think I could tell you because.. I’m just not the guy you typically go for, Y/n. But I guess that was my own insecurities playing a part of that. I’m rambling and i probably sound like Steve after he takes one hit. But I promise I’ve admired you for so long and it has never been just sex to me. I don’t want my stupid mistake to get in the way of us trying correctly this time.”

You swing your arm over the back of his neck and pull him in a kiss, your other hand fists his shirt.

He lags at first before his brain catches up and he’s kissing you back harder. He tilts his head just a smidge like he always does and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head. You feel his other hand cup the side your body. His hand roams up and down before he’s slipping it behind you to squeeze your ass. You moan into him, pressing your body closer to him.

Both your breaths pick up and you know you need a breather. So you pull away in a blur.

“I love you too.”

He smiles at your admission. One of those adorable, rare smiles not many get to see from the broody man.

You smack his arm and he grabs it with a questioning look.

“But I’m still really pissed at you and I’m not letting you off easy.”

“Even if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He snakes his brawny arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he ducks to kiss your cheek.

“Even then,” you giggle, turning his head for a kiss. “And that’s a yes.”

a/n: it's been so long, hi!!! sorry i disappeared

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💗

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navybrat817 · 7 months

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Easy as Pie

Pairing: Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You bake pies for Andy, but you're still his favorite treat. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, slight body worship, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), established relationship, light D/s vibes, mention of insecurities, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #2 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks for suggesting soft Andy, @whisperlullaby (body worship and sensory deprivation) and @drabblewithfrannybarnes (cockwarming). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Baking was a hobby you enjoyed and what better time to make pies than in the fall? When you asked Andy that morning if he'd prefer to have a pumpkin or apple pie for dessert that evening, he told you to choose for him. It was tough for you to decide. For pumpkin, the earthy pleasant flavor and creamy filling was a wonderful contrast to the flaky trust. For apple, the sweet and tart combination was both delicious and complex.

After a quick mental debate, you decided to bake Andy one of each so he could have the best of both worlds.

“I guess I'll just have to surprise you,” you told him before he left for work.

“Either way, I'll still want you for dessert.”

You were looking forward to that.

It would've been easy for you to buy crust or filling from the store, but you preferred to bake from scratch. As tedious as it was to get the consistency right, it was fulfilling to see your progress from beginning to end. You also told Andy that baking engaged your senses, from touch to taste to smell. It relaxed you as well as energized you. It was almost like the aroma pushed you to the finish line.

By the time you finished baking and cleaning up, it was late afternoon. You were proud of how the pies turned out. Plus the smile on Andy's face when he walked into the kitchen was worth double the work.

“Right on time,” you smiled, removing your apron as he glanced over where the pies sat on display. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home,” he said, loosening his tie before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He brought his hands to your waist to hold you close, your body molding easily against his. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did, but it’s better now that you’re home,” you said in return.

“You had a good day baking a pumpkin and an apple pie for me?” He questioned as you nodded. “You spoil me, honey. Thank you.”

It was almost laughable that he considered you baking pies as spoiling him. He worked hard as a lawyer and was still a loving partner even with his often busy schedule. The least you could do was take care of him in some form, though you were certain you got the better end of the stick by being with Andy.

“Don’t thank me until you taste them. They may not be so great,” you teased.

The hands on your waist gripped you a little tighter. “Don’t do that.”

Self-deprecating was something Andy didn’t care for, especially when he knew how hard you worked. He understood that there would be days when you wouldn’t think the world of yourself, but he never wanted you to put yourself or your skills down. Even if you were joking and nothing more, he preferred that you saw the best in yourself. If you didn’t, he found ways to tell or show you how special you were.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” you said, shrinking slightly under his fierce gaze before you brushed your fingers along his thick beard. “I’m sure they taste great.”

“I’m sure they do, too,” he said, the blue of his eyes darkening as you moved your fingers to his hair. “Now say something nice about yourself.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sifted through your thoughts, doing your best to find something positive to say that didn’t sound like you were bragging. “I put love into everything I do and that’s what counts.”

Andy’s piercing gaze softened as he gently held your chin, bringing a smile to both of your faces. “That’s how I know your pies will taste delicious. Because you made them with love.”

Praise was something you typically shied away from, but it was different with Andy. You welcomed the way warmth blossomed from your core and embraced how it spread from your head to your toes. “Double the love since you wouldn’t decide which one you wanted,” you said, his chest rising a bit as he chuckled. “Now you have to pick which one you want to try first. Unless you want to wait until after dinner.”

His brows pinched together slightly as he considered your question. He couldn’t go wrong with either. “I think I’d rather skip dinner and go right to dessert,” he answered, venturing over to the counter.

You watched as he carefully cut and plated a slice from both pies, your breath hitching when he licked some of the apple filling off his finger. He wasn't trying to seduce you at the moment, but it was working. “I don’t mind that at all,” you said as he went back to you, your fingers wrapping around his tie to have him close again. “And where would you like to have dessert?”

“In the living room,” he replied, running his free hand up and down your arm. “And there’s something else I want to try.”

“And what’s that?” You asked curiously.

“I want you to sit on my cock,” he began, bringing his hand back to your waist as you inhaled. It was always a good time for you when he wanted to play. “And I want to blindfold you.”

You whimpered, eager to give him what he wanted. Him robbing you of your sight as he stayed deep inside you would enhance everything else around you. Would his cock feel harder than usual? Would his hands and lips make you tremble more than normal?

“And you’re going to sit perfectly still while I have a slice of each pie,” he continued, his voice gruff as your breathing picked up.

“You want me to sit still while I keep you warm?” You questioned as he kissed your forehead with a smile.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he whispered, dragging his lips down to the tip of your nose. “You naked and blindfolded while my hands and mouth wander, letting me worship you as I eat those delicious pies you put so much care into.”

You made some sort of embarrassing sound at his words, wondering if was going to keep his suit on while you kept his cock warm. It was such a power move and one you loved exploring with him. While he was physically dominant over you, he was also verbally appreciative and tender. He loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

“Maybe I want to worship you, Andy,” you said. He deserved for you to love him the way he needed you to as well.

“Not tonight,” he said, a hint of dominance starting to seep in. There would be no arguing with him. “Not when I’m going to eat you out after I pump you full.”

Fuck.

“And what’ll happen if I don’t stay still?” You asked breathlessly, shivering when his mouth touched the corner of yours, his beard tickling your skin.

“You won’t come,” he replied, smirking when you took a step back and narrowed your eyes. “At least, not right away.”

“That's just mean, Mr. Barber,” you said with the smallest of pouts. He only edged you if there was a reason to do so. Though it wouldn't surprise you if he dragged it out for your self-deprecating comment earlier.

“I won't be mean tonight, but I will need you to be patient,” he said, nudging you toward the doorway. “Go to the living room and strip. I'll be there in a moment.”

Glancing over your shoulder, you smirked as you said, “Yes, Sir.”

The smirk fell as you began to undress in front of the couch with shaky hands. Though the curtains were drawn, the light in the room was bright enough that you wouldn't have a chance to hide from Andy's stare. The thought had your heart racing faster because he cherished every part of you. Any imperfection to you was a thing of beauty to him.

“Fuck, you really do spoil me.”

The rich timbre of Andy's voice made your hands fall to your sides, the ache between your thighs stronger as he walked toward you. Your nipples hardened as his eyes swept over you, like he actually touched you. It was embarrassing how wet you were when he hadn't laid a finger on you yet. You didn’t even close your eyes until he moved close enough that his nose brushed against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips almost touching yours before he set the pie down. “You ready to take a seat or should I check?”

“I think you should check,” you said, opening your eyes as you widened your stance.

His gaze moved lower as he cupped your pussy, his fingers brushing along your slit. You were patient, letting him tease you when what you wanted was for him to stab his fingers deep. Watching him bring his glistening fingers to his lips to taste you seconds later, it was a feat your knees didn’t buckle.

He didn’t beckon you any closer as he lowered his pants and underwear, his cock springing free. His gaze devoured you still as he took a seat, lightly stroking himself with a moan as you stood there waiting. Your mouth watered at the thought of dropping to your knees and swallowing him down. It was another way to keep him warm. But he was in charge and what he wanted was your pussy.

You wouldn’t deny him.

“Come here,” he urged, taking your hand to help you into his lap. He stroked your thigh with his other hand as you straddled him. “Take me in.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you stared into his eyes as you lined him up with your entrance. Prolonged eye contact was another thing Andy taught you to appreciate. Watching the swirl of emotions in his eyes as you began to sink down made your heart almost beat out of your chest. Both of you sighed as you continued to move down, not wanting to go too fast. It would hurt him if you got hurt.

“Good girl,” he praised as you took a moment to appreciate how good he felt. He removed the tie from around his neck when you tightened slightly around him. You almost forgot he planned to blindfold you. “You let me know if this is too much, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. You never had to use your safeword with Andy, but knew he’d stop right away if anything made you uncomfortable. Communication was everything to him. “I trust you.”

He paused, a raw expression on his face as he didn’t reply. You framed his cheeks, wordlessly telling him that he didn’t have to speak. Trust wasn’t something either of you gave easily. Something about him made it easy. Maybe it was how deep your love for him ran.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick as he covered your eyes with the tie. He didn’t make it too tight, but you couldn’t see a thing. “Now be good for me.”

You gasped when one of his hands closed over your breast, your back arching to get more of his touch. You had to bite your lip to hold in your moans when his mouth enclosed around your nipple, his tongue suckling the hardened bud. Your cunt throbbed as he switched, giving equal care to each side with his hand and mouth.

“So lucky to have you,” he rasped as he released your nipple, your breathing heavy as you heard the fork scrape along the plate. Your cunt throbbed when he moaned, the sound filthy and deep. “Have a taste.”

You breathed in deeply through your nose, but Andy didn’t bring the fork to your mouth. He kissed you instead, making you cling to him as you tasted the spices on his tongue. It was stronger than normal, the flavor exploding in your mouth. You practically saw colors dancing behind your eyelids, giving various shades to the sweet taste he shared with you.

“Sweet just like your cunt,” he growled, arousal pooling in your gut as he moved his lips down your neck. Your hands were free, but you felt completely at his mercy. Your pleasure was in his hands. “Doing so well. Just keep me warm while I eat.”

You were desperate for more, but you stayed as still as you could. He kept a hand on you as he took bites, between gently grabbing your ass or rubbing your thigh. His lips and tongue touched wherever they could reach, bringing little whimpers out of you. The one thing he didn’t touch was your clit, which was begging for attention.

How long would he tease you?

“Andy, please,” you whispered, almost shifting in his lap in the hopes to get some relief.

“Almost done, honey,” he assured you, drawing a soft cry from you when he suddenly thrust his hips up. “You need me to fuck you, is that it? Can’t wait until I’m finished eating the dessert you made just for me?”

His finger brushed your clit only once and it was almost enough to hurdle you over the edge. Each touch, every lavishness of his attention, was pure ecstasy. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

“Honey, this is making me feel good,” he said, rocking his hips again as your chest heaved. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his gaze was hungry. “Watching you like this, letting me touch you, praise you. Don’t you feel how fucking hard I am?”

“I do,” you exhaled. You felt every inch of him along your sensitive walls. “Feels good.”

He kissed your cheek, the scent of cinnamon filling your nostrils. “You feel good. So wet and tight and it’s all for me. So fucking lucky to come home to you. Love you so much, honey.”

The fabric of his tie felt damp and you realized it was your sudden tears causing that. Between his words and how sensitive your body felt, it was a lot in a good way. “I love you, too,” you whispered once you took a breath.

He dragged his mouth to your ear as he brought his finger back to your clit, rubbing gently as you both groaned. “You want me to feel even better? Show me how good I make you feel. Drench me and I’ll fuck you with my cock and tongue.”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, gripping his arms in an almost bruising hold, determined to give him what he demanded.

“Come.”

That was your undoing, the tide washing you away as you drenched him the way he demanded. He quieted your cries with his mouth, swallowing them down for himself. You whined as he stopped rubbing your clit, the spasms from your walls still strong as he whispered how much he loved you.

You loved him, too.

“Beautiful,” he commented as you came down, allowing you to collapse against him as you caught your breath. His heart raced against your chest, almost as fast as yours beat. Pleasuring you pleased him and you wondered how you hit the jackpot with him.

“The pumpkin was good,” he began, running a hand up and down your back. “But I think I prefer the apple pie. It’s sweet, like you.”

You laughed breathlessly, making your walls spasm a bit around him. “Noted,” you said, reaching for the blindfold.

He stopped you before you could remove it. “Leave it on. I’m not done worshiping you yet,” he said, shocking you by tracing a bit of whipped cream on your lips. “And if you want my cream, you'll behave.”

He deserves the world! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands.

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact.

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks.

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you.

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying.

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle.

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage.

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him.

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed.

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door.

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes.

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.”

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool.

"Wait! What are you doing!"

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears.

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?"

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink.

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?”

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm.

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch.

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink.

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?”

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes.

“Oh… It got dirty.”

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.”

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete.

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon.

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see. A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be.

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city.

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note.

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his.

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.”

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead.

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery.

“You liked the attention.”

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.”

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books.

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money.

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with.

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.”

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago.

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so.

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise.

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you.

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle.

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window.

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’ bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business.

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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krirebr · 5 months

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More Than This 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother.

“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk.

You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.

“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”

Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn.

“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?”

“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”

Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible.

“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”

At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”

Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.

He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him.

“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.

Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called.

Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you.

You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.

When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”

At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.

You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable.

When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”

That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.

“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.

“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.

“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.

“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”

You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”

“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”

“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”

That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”

“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”

“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”

“He give you a name?”

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.

“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”

You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”

Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”

You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”

He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”

“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–”

“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”

“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”

Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”

You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.

All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”

You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”

“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.

“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.

He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.

As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.

For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck.

The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead.

So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to.

Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.

Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom.

He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.

You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”

“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”

He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?” His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering.

Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”

He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”

You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say.

He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”

“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.

He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was.

You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.

Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.

He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”

Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”

You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”

You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”

Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”

“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”

“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.

You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”

He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest.

“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”

You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?

“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.

“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”

“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”

At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

And then he was gone and you were alone.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead.

Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight.

Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”

You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him.

“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”

“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”

He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”

You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”

His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”

“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”

“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.

As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.

When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.

Part Two

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@bval-1

#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #steve rogers #knives out #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #kris wrote something #more than this #ce characters

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buckys-wintersoldier · 19 days

Text

Wisdom teeth | Chris Evans

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Husband!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You need to the dentist to remove your wisdom teeth.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.532

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (M) 18+ Minors DNI, established relationship, implied smut, fingering (fem!receiving), anxiety, dentist appointment, surgery, being high after surgery, fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> Hiii, Not sure if you are taking any request but would you mind writing a Chris Evans request for me you can either use Chris Evans or (Andy barber) 😭🥺🫶🏼 I’m getting my wisdom teeth removed next week on Wednesday and I’m scared shitless like scared 😭 happen to be in my late 20s and dealt by afraid of needles, doctors, anything to do with medical things in general.. feel like I’m about to walk into a lions den.. I’d rather jump of out a plane than do this 😭 sorry for the long introduction thing I’m really nervous… and sorry for wasting your time if you don’t even do requests or this isn’t your cup of tea :( But I was wondering if you could write a long image 2k plus or it doesn’t have to be 🥺 …. something along the lines of the reader getting her teeth out and her in recovery and he’s there with her through everything and super supportive… mushy gushy fluff husband vibes… takes care of her and just good comforting vibes… and comforts her when she needs to be put under for the surgery… I love your writing style.. your page is a beautiful comfort piece of happiness in my daily life. I understand if you can’t but it was worth a shot 😭🫶🏼🩷💗🎀 I just was wanting something to read afterwards or before to calm my nerves… and can’t seem to find an image and neither are my writing skills any good… Anyways I hope you have a good rest of your day regardless ☺️🌷☀️

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request, this is a bit rushed and not too long but hope you still like it. And thank you for your feedback, I'm glad you like my work!

Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

A low groan leaves your lips when you see the reminder of the dentist appointment. It's not like you forgot it; how could you? The dentist is one of your biggest fears. The needles, the doctors — they cause an uncomfortable feeling. You just want to run away and get rid of your wisdom teeth. You inhale deeply, wiping the reminder away, and lean back on the couch.

You haven't slept well in days; the appointment causes so many thoughts that you just can't concentrate on something else. Not even your favorite series is helping your mind to stop spinning around the dentist appointment.

Before you can get lost in your thoughts once again, you hear your boyfriend coming home. When he opens the door, you smirk softly, and a moment later it reminds you that you still have that shit appointment, and he will force you to go there.

With a soft sigh, you wrap the blanket tighter around your body. Maybe he just forgot about your appointment, and you can convince him to do something more fun. Chris loves to spend time with you, so he will be into it when you ask him to go out for dinner or a trip tomorrow, right?

“Hi, babe,” he says, smirking when he walks into the living room. When he sees the blanket wrapped around you like a cocoon, he laughs. Chris leans against the wall; his eyes brighten when he admires you. “It's so warm; why are you wrapped in a blanket?”

“Because you were working and I needed cuddles!” You explain, nodding your head to underline it. Your husband laughs, pushing himself off the wall and making his way to the couch.

Chris lets himself fall next to you; his legs are slightly spread while he rests his back against the backrest of the couch. His hands are placed on his thighs, and then he turns his head toward you. Just the way he looks at you with that charming smile and his perfect blue eyes causes you to melt.

“Does your blanket cocoon have anything to do with the dentist appointment tomorrow?” He asks, and your eyes widen lightly. He hasn't forgotten the appointment just yet, so maybe you can convince him to do something more fun.

When you're not answering immediately, he chuckles, patting his thighs, waiting for you to move and sit on them. You crawl with your blanket still tight around you, closer to him and on his lap. Then you sit up and let yourself fall down forward, resting your head on his shoulder and your nose in the crock of his neck to inhale his scent deeply. Chris places his hands on your hips. pulling your closer against him.

“Do you wanna go bungee jumping tomorrow?” You ask. Maybe you can convince him to do something like that — it's scary to bungee jump but not as bad as the dentist. “Or we could jump out of a plane? This will be fun, won't it?”

Chris laughs, shaking his head. He moves his hands underneath the blanket, lifting your shirt to place them underneath the fabric. You shiver slightly when his soft fingers hit your skin. He grasps your hips, his thumbs moving soothingly over your stomach, and you sigh softly. Your husband's soft touches can calm you down like nothing else can. “We can go bungee jumping or jump out of a plane some other day, but tomorrow we have an appointment at the dentist.”

“But it's so much more fun to do bungee jumping,” you say, leaning back to show him your best pout. Chris leans forward, capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss with yours. His tongue glides over your lips, waiting for you to part them before he pushes his tongue into yours. When the two of you pull back, his forehead is resting against yours, and he looks deep into your eyes — they are so calm and beautiful.

“Pouting isn't working, babe. But we can jump out of a plane as often as you want after the appointment,” he offers, but you shake your head. You don't want to jump out of a plane, then, since that's still something you wouldn't do, but you would prefer it instead of going to the dentist. “I love you, and I will be there with you tomorrow. I will punch everyone who hurts my beautiful girl. And for now, I have a good idea for some distraction.”

Before you can ask him what he means, one of his hands is slipping into your pants, and you throw your head back. Chris finds your clit, rubbing small circles on it while he listens to the soft moans that leave your lips. He moves his hand and smirks. When he looks into your eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks red, and the way you look through your lashes, it makes him go crazy.

“Let's get into bed and continue there; it's more comfortable,” he says, kissing you before he grasps your thighs and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you into the bedroom to continue your heated game.

The whole morning, you tried to convince your husband to go bungee jumping or something, but he just shook his head. Somehow he managed to get you into the car and to the dentist, while you told him a lot of reasons why jumping out of a plane or bungee jumping would be a lot more fun.

“Y/N Evans?” a woman asks, looking around, and you stand up. Chris follows you when you make your way to the woman. She smiles politely, but that doesn't stop your fear. When Chris reaches you, he grasps your hand and squeezes it. The three of you walk through the floor until you reach the room for the surgery. Your whole body trembles when you walk into the room.

“They just get rid of your teeth, and then we can jump out of a plane or whatever you want to do,” Chris says, chuckling softly when you look at him annoyed.

The woman who leads you into the room shows you to sit down on the chair; she shows Chris to sit at the edge of the room. Two other women walk into the room, saying hello and smiling nicely, but that doesn't help your nervousness. One of the women is explaining what they are going to do, but you just nod, trying to calm yourself down.

“It won't hurt, but when you feel better, we could ask your husband to come over here to help you calm down,” one of the women asks, and you nod immediately, smiling softly while your eyes light up when you look at Chris. He nods, pushing the chair closer, and sits down. The women prepare everything, and before you recognize it, the surgery starts, and you feel Chris playing with your pants while he looks at you, smirking when you roll your eyes.

When you wake up from your short sleep, you look around. Your mind feels really funny, and the guy who is playing with your pants looks really familiar. When you look at him with confusion, he chuckles softly, moving the chair to sit closer to you. “WOAH! You're Chris Evans!”

He laughs deeply, and you shiver slightly. Chris Evans is sitting in a room with you, touching you! You look him up and down; your mouth drops when he kisses your hand softly. His fingers feel so soft on your skin, and his plump lips are even softer.

“I've dreamed about kissing you,” you say, nodding to underline your statement. Chris can't hold back but bursts out laughing. You furrowed in confusion, not understanding why he laughed about it. He then leans closer and captures your lips with his. Your eyes widen when he pulls away and laughs again. “Chris Evans kissed me!”

When it knocks at the door, it swings slowly open, and a woman walks into the room. She smiles when she sees you with a dropped jaw. “Y/N Evans, right?”

“YOU'RE MARRIED?” You shout and look at your husband, who nods. “You just kissed me! I need to tell your wife that!”

“You can take her home now. The confusion should fade away in a few hours.”

Chris nods, then he gets up the chair, helping you to sit up, and kisses you once again. “I love you,” he mumbles against your lips.

“You love your wife!”

“I do; I just told her and kissed her,” he says, and your eyes widen, giggling. Chris brings the two of you home, and after a few hours, your mind is clear again. Your husband has told you about the way you reacted when you saw ‘the Chris Evans'; you both laughed about it. Chris makes dinner for the two of you while you look for a movie you could watch. He made some ice cream for you to cool your mouth, and you look at him the whole time while he makes dinner, smirking about how cute he is. He's so in love with you, like you're with him.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @charlottiedawson @princesscore-angel @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

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toastedkiwi · 6 months

Text

Mr. Yeti

Summary: Chris finds you texting someone.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sister!Reader, soon to be Travis Kelce x Silence!Reader

This is part two of Silence after TWO WHOLE YEARS.

Chris came into the living room. You’ve ventured out of his guest room and have planted yourself on the L shaped couch. You’ve got Dodger right next to you with his lion. The tv is on with cartoons playing but you’re not even paying attention. Your eyes are on your iPad as you type away with one finger messaging somebody somewhere. It’s been a week since you’ve been discharged from the hospital.

“Hey, want me to type for you?” Chris asked.

You flinched but eased when you saw it was him. He came around and sat down on the couch beside you. He saw your saw your screen a little clearer. At the top was Mr. Yeti.

“Who’s Mr. Yeti?” Chris asked.

You looked at him holding the ipad against your chest not allowing him to see the message exchange. He looked at you. You’re looking a lot better than you have. The swelling in your face especially has gone down. Your still a bit puffy around your jaw and lips but that’s understandable with your jaw being wired shut.

“Y/n… is it a boy?” he teased.

You tensed up. Chris smiled and put his arm around your shoulders. He pulled you into his side. You looked at him warily.

“It’s okay, ya know,” he said. “As long as there’s no funny business going on.”

You gave him a look that he knows all too well. He smirked.

“I’m your brother, Pooh, not your dad,” Chris said.

You let out a small hum.

“Lemme at least hold your iPad for you while you text this Yeti guy,” he said.

You shake your head no.

“Please. I won’t even read what you’re texting him,” he said. “I’ll just hold it for you because I know it’s not easy on trying to hold it with your broken hand.”

You grabbed him by his chin and moved his head to face the tv. He snorted at your actions. You then guided his hand to hold your iPad. You checked quickly to see his face. His eyes are currently on the tv— he’s going to seek a look at your messages because he is your older brother and wants to make sure things are going smoothly.

You unlocked the iPad and opened up your messages again. You’ve received two new ones from your buddy. You’re quick to type out a clever response. Chris managed to catch you smiling. He hasn’t seen a smile from you in years. He does miss it.

Chris did kiss the top of your head when he noticed you weren’t texting anymore. He looked to see if you’re asleep and you are. Your lips are parted letting your wires be shown. He took the chance and glanced at your screen. A majority of its pretty innocent.

He ended up turning it off for you and placing the iPad off to the side. He then made sure that you’re covered with the very soft blue blanket.

“Sleep tight, Pooh,” Chris whispered.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x silence!reader #silence!reader #travis kelce x silence!reader #chris evans x sister!reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fanfic #travis kelce x evans!reader #travis kelce x reader

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chxrryhansen · 3 months

Text

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s concepts 9/50

Character; Steve Rogers

Kink; Breeding

Dialogue; “You look so pretty like this.”

Requested by; Anon🙊

As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, all dark content will be labled as such. Please read at your own risk.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

your hands gripped the cotton bedsheets in tight fists as steve's thick hand slammed down against your ass from behind, instantly flustering your hot skin as you cried out in pleasure.

your pussy stretched around his thick cock, riding him reverse cowgirl as he thrusted his hips up into your dripping heat, the sound of clapping skin filling the room.

"fuck... thats it, you take this dick so fucking good, my sweet fuckin' whore." steve grunted, his hands moved to grip your hips, slamming you up and down on his cock, your pussy clenching around his length as your clit slapped against his balls with each bounce, his pretty blonde locks began sticking to his forehead as sweat dripped down his cheeks from the rapid pace he was fucking you at.

"your s-so big, daddy, feels s' good." you whimpered as your juices leaked out of you, creating a cream coloured ring around the base of his shaft.

"i know baby, i know. shit, look at that, creamin' all over daddys fat dick, huh? what a messy girl you are, sweetheart." he growled as his release neared, wanting nothing more than to fill you up with his hot n sticky cum.

"gonna' cum inside this cunt til its dripping down your fuckin' thighs, you fuckin' whore..yeah? you want daddys cum? such a good little slut f' me."

"p-please daddy, need it so bad, miss the way your cum fills me up daddy." you babbled as he planted his feet against the bed, beginning to relentlessly pound into your pussy, desperate to get you pregnant with his kids.

he was quick to flip you over, staring down at you as he fucked you sensually in missionary, one hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tight as he forced you to stare into his eyes.

"you look so pretty like this, baby, all fucked out, god, i'm gonna' cum, your gonna' make me cum, oh fuck, ohhh f-fuckkk." he groaned, his hips stuttering as his warm seed began to fill you making you quiver around his length, ropes of hot cum spurting into your pussy. you whined at the feeling of his warmth stuffing you.

Steve shushed you as he leant down to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongues battled for dominance until he squeezed your throat tighter, making you gasp for breath, his tongue beginning to explore your mouth. He pulled away slowly, a trail of spit connecting your lips, the sight leaving you breathless.

"i can't wait to make you a mommy, baby, gonna' look so hot, all full and round with my kids." he rasped, his soft cock growing hard inside of you once more, growling as he began thrusting gently.

you whimpered, mentally preparing your sore cunt for round two, or three… or four.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #steve rogers fanfic #chxrrys concepts #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans fic

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

hi, my love! I’m okay, how are you? x

of course, request away!💗//

I'm good, thanks 🥰

So, i really loved the kinkoctober's fic, i think read them like a thousand times 🫣 (they're too good, sorry 😅)

I would like to have one with an innocent reader, a lot of praises (like 'my good girl' or 'you're doing so well') and maybe if he can call reader Bunny (like 'my beautiful bunny' or 'my little bunny'), also i'm really short (150 cm 😬) so maybe a little bit of size kink too? I love read about how tiny she is compared to her man 🫣

I'm an Ari's girl, so maybe with him? Or Ransom, if he inspire you more

-🌻

hey honey! don't be sorry, hehe. I hope you like what I wrote, and thank you, @lokiandbuckysdoll, for supporting me again on kofi. I love you both!

summary - you get fucked by your large man in the kitchen.

warning - smut, size difference, bunny, daddy kink, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Ari couldn’t believe how tiny you were compared to him. You were so small that he could just pick you up and put you in his pocket or toss you around like a ragdoll as he fucks his way into you. Ari remembered how the morning had started. He had woken harder than ever after having a very steamy dream about you. Instead of using his hand to relieve himself, Ari had gotten up and walked out of the room, entering the kitchen where you stood naked in your cute little cherry apron. He felt his tip leak with pre-cum, a growl escaping him before he pounced. Grabbing hold of the back of your neck as he pushes you into the counter, lining his thick cockhead with your sopping cunt before piercing deep inside of you.

He ensured the stove was turned off, cock still nestled deep inside you, and your pathetic whimpers filled the quiet room. Ari grunted as he felt your walls squeeze and spasm around him, your tiny little hole being stretched wide by his massive member. “Jesus, bunny. You wanna relax for daddy? You’re going to cut my dick off with how tight you are.” Your tiny hands try and grip the edge of the counter, your feet barely touching the ground with how high you are, only the tips of your toes barely graze the tile. Ari’s hands begin to feel you up, rubbing your sides and gripping your hips as he begins to move, thrusting deep and slow into you, growling as you squeeze him. Ari leans over you, feeling his cock twitch at the size difference, his breath hitting your ear as he grunts. “You’re my good little bunny, aren’t you?” You whimper into the cold marble, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at his words and the feel of his cock splitting you open from the inside, your tiny body shaking against his large one.

You rapidly nod, blinking away the fat tears brimming your eyes, your plump bottom lip going between your lips at the mix of pain and pleasure blossoming inside you. “I–I am! I your good little bunny!” You whine, barely being able to speak the words properly as he continues to thrust deep into you, your mind plunging deeper into a fuzzy state. “D–Daddy!” His sizeable hairy arm comes around and locks around your throat, pulling you up and flush against his thick hairy chest. He groans, pressing his head into your hair and placing a soft kiss before picking up his pace, thrusting faster, his heavy sacks slapping against your puffy clit.

“What’s wrong, my little bunny? Are you going dumb already? Daddy’s cock too good?” He chuckles as you whimper, clawing at his large arm. His cock twitches as he notices how tiny your hands are compared to his arm. He digs his feet into the ground as he propels harder and faster into you, feeling his end approaching. Ari's hand goes down and finds your puffy little clit, flicking and rubbing it. Grunts and groans escape him as you squirm, your walls pulsating and squeezing around his thick base. “It’s okay, bunny. You’re such a good girl. Let go for me.” Soft little moans leave you, feeling your core tighten, and your vision becomes white. “Cum for me, bunny. Cum.” Your head rolls back, and your juices squirt out of you, covering the large man behind you and the kitchen counter before your body begins to sag, your head flopping forward, and your walls continue to send waves around Ari’s cock.

His thrusts become sloppy, and his balls tighten as his cock twitches, filling your little cunt with thick ropes of cum as he finishes inside you. Ari groans, holding you close to him as cum continues to shoot out of him, overflowing, dripping onto the counter and the kitchen floor. Ari presses a kiss into your hair, breathing heavily as his high comes down. “My beautiful little bunny, you did so well for daddy.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

Text

ALPHABET BOY- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: Brothers Best Friend! Steve x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: you despise steve and his constant teasing with you- the younger sister of his best friend bucky barnes. little do you know that teasing is flirting, and it comes in handy when you’re trapped at a costume party with no way home.

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, daddy kink, petnames, slight breeding kink, praise kink, swearing, size kink (steve is like 6′5), dry humping, slight degradation kink, lots of teasing, alcohol and drugs mentioned

“i'm not a little kid now, watch me get big now- spell my name on the fridge now with all your alphabet toys.... you won the spelling bee now, but are you smarter than me now? you're the prince of the playground little alphabet boy” - alphabet boy, melanie martinez

You were sick of him.

Sick, sick, sick.

He plagued your brain, consuming you whole like some flesh-eating maggot. The thought of him was enough to send shivers down your back, make your stomach curl in on itself like rotten milk.

Steve scared you.

He scared you in a way you didn’t even know was possible, in a way that was rooted deep in your core. The embarrassment you got whenever he was around sent you spiraling.

You were the shy, timid and innocent little sister to Bucky, though you weren't so little, he and his friends always thought of you that way.

I’m not a little kid! You’d often whine to him as he teased you, times never changing. Steve was Bucky's best friend, a brother to him if you will. Always lurking around, always popping up in places you'd least expect him.

He was the character that was always slouched on the couch when you got home, acting as if it were his house, and you were the guest. You might as well be, with the way he teased you.

Always making your cheeks heat whenever he mocked you, called you names, picked on you for your cutesy, little pink outfits. It made your toes curl in their socks, your hands balling into little fists as if you were fighting the urge to swing at him.

He’s being mean to me again Bucky! You’d often call from your bedroom as Steve towered over you, leaning against your bedroom door frame- eyeing you up like you were the star dish on the menu.

Let him! He’d call back, making Steve’s smirk grow even wider.

It was torture, being around him. Any comments you shot back to him ended up backfiring almost immediately.

You were smaller, dumber, younger- didn’t you know better?

No, you wanted to snap back. No, I don’t know any better. Because I’m stubborn and he’s being a tease.

Steve would build you up like building blocks, just to bring you back down again. Yet you refused to be away from him for too long. Yes the thoughts made you feel sick, tummy starting to ache as you thought of his cool, stern gaze, that cocky smile and biceps as large as your head.

It made your thighs clamp, palms turn clammy when you thought of the happy trail that lingered down his abs whenever he’d stretch and yawn while him and Bucky were watching the game, knowing you were watching from behind your little hiding spot.

Damn him. Damn him and his mocking, pretentious ways. Damn him for always winning you back over, with little sweets and treats and the odd compliment, or attention he knew you so desperately craved.

It was obvious, how drawn to him you were, like a lost puppy. Though you tried to fight it, you were always rewarded with a snarky comment.

You’re so dumb. So dumb, such a baby.

You could never win, when it came to Steve. He was the golden child in everyone’s eyes, always doing the right thing, always working so hard and succeeding! You were just trying your best, getting the soft, sad smile along with it.

They didn’t see how Steve treated you. They didn’t notice the sly looks he gave you, knowing he had beat you at every hand he dealt.

He was the prince of the playground. You were just a pawn for him, something to direct his mocking, sarcastic ways towards. Though you refused to cry in front of him, knowing that would irk his comments even more.

I’m just teasing you rabbit. Don’t be so sensitive. Was his form of an apology. And you ate it up every single time, licking the plate and utensils before seconds.

It was cat and mouse between the two of you, always pulling each other's leg. Or hair, in his case. The sexual attraction you felt towards him was undeniable, nonetheless. You were drawn to him and his charming ways, the facade he put on for others.

How could no one see him? The real him?

The Steve who always trailed his hand up your leg to pinch your thigh tightly when you were forced to sit next to him, the Steve who always looked at you as if you were his next meal.

He was an angel to the world, but his halo was anything but bright. You thought of him now, in your own set of angel wings- costume party in full swing. It was late, the hour growing long and you wanted nothing more than to stumble home.

Even if that meant taking yourself.

The alcohol was buzzing in your system, the bottle drowning you way past your limit. You were such a sucker for peer pressure, wanting nothing more than to please others.

So you drank, and drank, and drank until you were a babbling mess, the world seeming to bend over backwards, flipping each and every way as you adjusted your little wings and took another sip of some fruity cooler.

It was so saccharine you swore your teeth started to tingle as it swished around your mouth.

You needed to leave.

It was too stuffy and hot, bodies all packed together as the wallpaper glistened from the low lights, and the smoke started to cover everything like a shield. Nobody listened to you, your friends long gone as you attempted to beg for an exit, an escape route for you to stumble down.

Everyone had morphed into another being- you weren't sure who was who anymore, with all the masks and makeup. It was not your scene. Not at all.

Somehow, after a few loud, floor-shaking songs later you had managed to stumble over to a hallway, slowly guiding yourself past the couples who were dry-humping eachother against the picture frames, kissing with so much teeth and tongues it was like they were having a battle on who would gasp for air first.

The red solo cup had slipped from your nibble fingers, clattering against the hardwood and splashing red up against the walls.

It looked like blood.

The cool air hit you like a train on a track as you stepped out into the dark abyss, large forest looming in front of you as the porch light flickered. The shadows of the trees looked like clawed fingers against the grass, the gust of wind causing goosebumps to spread up your arms.

You needed to get home.

There was a trail that connected this property to yours, though it was long and windy. The smart thing to do was to call Bucky, explain to him the situation.

I’m drunk. Like really drunk. And I’m scared and I need someone to hold just for a few minutes while they take me home. It was a mistake and I’m so sorry, I really am.

But he wouldn't hold you. He probably wouldn’t even pick you up, saying it was your fault for getting in this situation, so you should find a way out of it.

No, no that was intrusive thoughts talking. You couldn't tell the difference anymore. Everything in your brain was swimming, the world stretching and warping like a fushigi ball.

Bucky would pick you up. Of course he would. But you knew the consequences that would come with it. Which is exactly why you put another foot forward, pushing yourself off of the old, weathered siding.

You would be treated like a child, mocked at for being so careless. Well, he could shove that mocking up his ass. You were tired of him and his friends always being so mean, always bullying you because you were seen as careless.

You didn’t need any company, but it didn’t mean you were opposed to it. A shadow, one even more intimidating than the towering trees appeared, lingering behind you. It was stretched, shoulders wide as you peered down at it.

“You shouldn't be out here all alone.” the voice murmured, low and deep as you turned. Your eyes met with a strangers, mask covering his face- deep looming pulled eyes staring at you.

Ghostface.

You had seen that movie with Steve and Bucky, though you had never been a fan of scary movies. “It’s not safe for little girls like you, you know.” he drawled on.

It should've scared you, his sudden interest in you. He had appeared out of nowhere, quite literally from nowhere, keening to the likes of you. But it made you feel special, knowing this mystery man was talking to you.

“I’m not alone, you’re out here.” you giggled, stumbling forward towards his 6’5 frame. You felt a weird desire to be in this mans arms- though there was no doubt about it that it was the booze that rushed to your head.

“You should be scared angel. Not stumbling towards a stranger, all doe eyed like that.”

“But you seem nice!” you chirped out, forgetting your original mission to make way back to your home. You liked this man. You liked Ghostface.

“ Mhm you’re lucky I am. I take pity on little girls like you.” His arm extended, tight black henley sleeves rolled up to his bulging biceps. Mystery mans hand was warm to the touch, the brush of skin against your own sent heat licking down your spine. It was then you noted the tattoo that was all too familiar, the twist and curves of black ink that bent around his wrist like a snake.

Steve.

“Steve?” The hand that shrugged off the mask confirmed your suspicions, long blonde hair curling at the nape of his neck, blue eyes sparked with mischief.

“You really shouldn't be so vulnerable, ya know. What if I actually was a stranger? It’s dangerous.”

The scolding began. You were too dazed out to fight back, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I really am. Just- just don’t tell B-bucky!” you hiccupped, praying he would help you. This was the first time you had needed Steve. Had wanted him to stay, and actually care.

He clucked his tongue. “I won’t. But we need to get you home, yea? Silly girl. Silly, silly girl.”

“I’m sorry.” was all you could mutter, stumbling as he squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, fighting off the chill of the night air.

“Don’t be stupid. You weren't thinking of going in the woods alone, were you? There really must not be a brain in there after all.” he mocked, taunting you as he guided you onwards, towards the creaking trees, their limbs dangling down like claws that would scratch your skin lean off, leave you bare and vulnerable.

You took a deep breath, the fresh air heightening your senses as a twig snapped from under his weight, a soft tune leaving his lips as he whistled. You shuddered, leaning into him more, his larger hand in yours squeezing your digits a little tighter.

“You scared angel?”

“N-no. Never scared.” you lied, staring straight ahead, though you couldn't see much besides his flashlight beam aimed at the little path in front of you.

“Not even when I spooked you that one time when you were with that pink bunny stuffie in your bedroom? What were you doing with it anyways?”

Humping it to the thought of you, you wanted to confess but kept your lips shut.

“Having a tea party.” you grumbled, to which he laughed. It brought you a sense of comfort in the moment- that laugh. It wasn't mean, or directed. It was just easy, carefree, and light as it bounced off an invisible sound barrier.

He wasn't laughing at you. He was laughing with you.

“Cute. You’re so cute bunny. You know that?”

“No.” you giggled, cheeks heating as hot as the sun, whether it was from the booze or his affections, you didn’t know. It seemed like time was stretched and warped, the path ending as soon as it started when you were with Steve.

You felt weirdly protected with him near, the warmth of his body drawing you closer, the scent of his cologne making your head spin as he murmured to you. It was hard to comprehend what he was saying, your mind in a different place as you stumbled into your backyard.

The lights were off, the structure appearing empty and hollow as you stared up at it. “Looks like Bucko wouldn't of came anyways sweetheart.” he sighed, noting his car wasn't in the driveway, the doors appearing locked.

“Does that mean I’m alone?” you asked, anxiety creeping into your voice. You didn’t think you could be alone tonight. You were too anxious and on edge to deal with the warped shadows, bending and following you like a contortionist.

And if you puked, who said you’d be able to get off the bathroom tiles?

“I’m staying with you angel. You’re too stupid to think for yourself right now.”

You fought your urge to stick your tongue out at him, but you knew he was right. He teased you for having next to no thoughts in your brain all the time, but this time it was actually true.

“Let’s go.” he tugged at your arm, causing u to stumble after him as he made his way towards the back door. His legs were so much longer than yours, stride extensive and full of authority. Steve knew exactly where to go, digging the key out of the hiding spot and unlocking the door.

You didn’t even know how he knew where it was. You surely didn’t remember.

The light flickered on, humming softly as it illuminated the little breakfast nook. “Steve why do you hate me?” you blurted out, hiccuping as you bent down to unbuckle your shoes, kicking them off by the door.

His face contorted into a look of confusion as he peered down at you. “I don’t hate you bunny. Far from it.”

You just nodded, taking his word for it. He was stumped by your level of compliance, as you normally would fight or bicker with him whenever he made a claim. But you were quiet, humming a little song as you trudged towards the stairs, hands out in front of you to guide you instead of turning on the rest of the lights.

“Stev-” you gasped as suddenly your body was lifted from the ground, swung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your head spun as you stared at the world from a much taller height, body squirming as he moved.

A hand smacked your thigh that poked from under your little dress, making you yelp. “Stop squirmin girl. You're not walking up these stairs.” he grumbled, making the trudge up the rickety wooden stairs, hand rubbing your thigh as you felt your panties start to dampen.

His hand was so warm, so nice as it stroked your skin, even when it stung.

“I’m fully- fully able to walk up.” you slurred and he chuckled.

“Mhm I don’t think you should think for yourself right now baby bunny.” he teased, and you giggled. Your bedroom door opened with a creak, and he walked you past the pink walls, past the frilly whites and endless stuffies as he plopped you down on your bed.

You laid back with a sigh, tracing the soft sheets with your fingers, sinking into them as you closed your eyes. Steve felt himself getting harder and harder the longer he gazed at you, so soft and delicate- like a little doll.

You were so in your element, basking in the comfort of the silk and cotton, just savoring how fuzzy you felt in the moment.

“Can you help me with my costume Stevie?” you whispered, eyes fluttering open to smile at him. He thought he was dreaming. He needed to be pinched.

But you needed his help, craved for his touch again as you lay there- almost helpless. You swung your leg up, toes curling against his abdomen in your socks, stretching your arms over your head.

“You’re such a tease, you know that?” he murmured, tugging at each sock, peeing them away from your skin to reveal your bubblegum pink nail polish.

“Mhmm so tired though Stevie. I can’t do anything.”

“Oh I know.” he smirked, hands slowly inching their way up towards your thighs, fingers walking their way across your skin.

“Just need your help, you gotta take care of me.” you giggled, back arching as he tugged at your dress, pulling off the rest of your costume. Your breasts were bared, shining in the pale moonlight as the air whooshed past his teeth.

No bra.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck.” he murmured as you giggled softly, batting your eyelashes at him as if you were a schoolgirl. “What’s the matter Stevie?” you asked, reaching for him, nails softly scraping against his biceps.

“You’re so fucking adorable angel. Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, grabbing his hand, guiding it down towards your lacey underwear that was now soaked, letting his fingers circle your button through the fabric.

You moaned, back arching against the sheets as he smiled, that wicked grin that drove you wild. You couldn't help yourself. You were on cloud nine, head in the heavens from the way he looked at you, the way he touched you.

Hands slipped up to grope your breasts, massaging them, squeezing each nipple as your mouth parted into an O shape, moaning his name. His hands slipped under your undergarments, fingers coaxing you open as your legs fell limp- purely under his control. Submissive and willing for him.

It drove him wild, the sweet, innocent little sister of his best friend- the person he had craved for years was now under him looking like a doll.

“Gotta open you up first princess. Don’t wanna hurt your sweet, little hole hm?” he whispered, thumb circling your clit, so sensitive under his flesh, aching for him.

You were just so needy, practically begging him- words slurring as you humped his hand, mindlessly reaching for one of your stuffies to cling to as your body rode him.

“Mhmm so… daddy..” you gasped out, emitting a low growl from his lips. You moaned into the fur of the animal, to which he quickly ripped away.

“Don’t hide your sweet little noises for daddy baby, don’t you know better? We’re all alone here, just the two of us. But even if we weren't, wouldn't you want everyone to know how good daddy's fingers feel stuffed in your cunnie?”

You nodded viciously, gasping for breath as heat licked down your spine, burning bright in your core as he rocked into you deeper. It was taken away in an instant, a startled gasp leaving your lips in disappointment before you saw his hands fumbling with his belt, muttering under his breath.

“Fuck I’m sorry angel but I can't take this anymore.I need- I need to be inside you I’m-”

You whimpered as he tugged down his bottoms as quickly as the two of you had entered this tangled affair, barely having a second to process what was happening before he was in you, and he was in you deep.

Plunging straight to the hilt, hands clawing at his biceps as you moaned, cried his name so sweetly he almost combusted right then and there.

“I’m so sorry angel I just- been waiting too long, FUCK you’re so goddamn tight n wet..” he murmured, head drooping low as he breathed you in, watched the way your juices coated his cock as he slipped out just slightly, only to plunge in even harder.

You clung to him so nicely, as if you were just made for him and only him, delicate and dainty. It was so easy to make you drool, so easy to watch you melt deeper into the mattress as he used you as his own personal fleshlight, muscles tensing and flexing as they adjusted you to the exact positions he wanted you in.

“You’re so good to me Stevie. So, so good, filling me…” you sighed, eyes hazy and glazed over as you peered up at him, admiring the man you hated with a passion, but the one you also craved like a drug.

He was so careful with you, guiding your tipsy body home, but so rough and eager with you now, as if he was feral.

“Stevie?” you asked softly, face distorting slightly the longer he looked at you, confusion now smeared across your face like a kids finger painting. “Stevie?”

You were muffled- trapped underwater. Murky.

His eyes flew open with a start, meeting yours as he blinked the fuzz away. His hand was so close to your body, just mere inches away from the place he had been touching you in his dream.

“Mhm?” he asked, noting he had somehow ended shirtless in your bed, the girly bedsheets wrapped around his low midriff, and you fought not to stare down at his happy trail.

“You were dreaming I think. Mumbling something.” you slurred, head smacking down back onto the pillow as he stared at you, your eyes now closed once more.

He didn’t fully remember what had happened. He had teased you, felt you up, and helped you home. But now he was in your bed, despite the fact the two of you bickered constantly, and nothing had happened.

Your little skimpy pj’s were still on. His boxers were on. Though he wished more than anything they were off, that everything was off and he could feel you the way he had ten seconds earlier.

He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you fell back into a drunken slumber, hand slipping over to cup your warm cheek before he could stop himself.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 18 days

Text

the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

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Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on.

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you.

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window.

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap.

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor.

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair.

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?”

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…”

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him.

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.”

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.”

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper.

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist.

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase.

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more.

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in.

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower.

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?”

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed.

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?”

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you.

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation.

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt.

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them.

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard.

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.”

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet.

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past.

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night.

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet.

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth.

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him.

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair.

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth.

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded.

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip.

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night.

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were.

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath.

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move.

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp.

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him.

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock.

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts.

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were.

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you.

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase.

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt.

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head.

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close.

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric.

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl.

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently.

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth.

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole.

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind.

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?”

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

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