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#i really can't get over that style of pants
cvnt4him · 1 day
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"woah would you look at that, deku just took out that guy with a single punch!"
"he's so amazing!~"
"you're my hero!!!"
So many people chant, root, and holler for even the slightest glimpse of his attention, even a glance.
"Mr deku, what can you tell us about this villain, you hadn't even put up much of a hassle and yet he appears to be tired!" One report gleams.
It's true. He hadn't done too much, one simple practically, light punch and the criminal was already down, he knew that. Deku knew he was good, he knew others thought he was good. He thrived on that kind of energy.
"oh~, well you know, I'm not one to brag nor bring other people down, criminal or not we're all human." He sings to the reporter, hinting at the fact she gave the measly little lowlife schmuck at best, a promotion to 'villian'. cameras flashing everywhere as he heard a bunch of girlish screams, everyone looks over to see a bunch of fan girls rallying to get an autograph.
Dammit.
Izuku tried so hard not to let his smile faulter, its not that he disliked his fans, really he could never, he knows one of the reasons he's here is because of his fans, and he loves them all equally no matter what. However. scrolling on the Internet, especially as a pro hero it's hard not to go down a loophole of your own fans. Izukus fans are nice, sure. But they're also bat shit crazy.
Doxxing people for disagreeing, assuming he was gay for his best friend dynamite, writing fanfiction about him and his best friend dynamite, assuming he had a new significant other because he changed up his style of clothing??
Really his fans are too much, he loves them, he does. But they are just so...smothering?
As he sees the fans hurrying toward him he tries his hardest to jump away as he was stopped by a little deaf girl who wanted an autograph.
Shit. You can't NOT give a little deaf girl an autograph it'd be bad publicity. he sighs deeply in defeat, knowing how easily persuaded he is, he'll most likely be there standing, on his feet, smiling wide and big for fans, for the next hour and a half.
Izuku sighed deeply through his nose as he finally, after 5 more hours of working, made it back to his bed, that's all he wanted. He didn't bother taking his suit off just simply jumping in his bed and groaning at the comfort he longed for.
He grabbed his phone and opened Twitter.. that was the first mistake of the night, he scrolled through his feed coming across a post of a girl just rambling about her ever lasting love for deku.
He shifted in his bed so now he was laying back on his pillows, turning up the sound to hear your beautifully slurred voice.
"- like bro.. I don't think any of you understand how my NEED for this man is like just.. sigh. I'm about to go crazy bro. If I were given the chance I'd do unholy. Unspeakable. Down right horrendous things to this man, i- aHaAVE YOU SEEN HIS NEW HERO SUIT??" You were talking to your friend who had the idea to start recording you while you were drunk, laughing and snorting at you.
The video was posted by you, the caption read; 'my friend started recording while i was drunk and i randomly went on a rant ab my love for the #1 hero 💀'
He snickered at this, genuinely finding it funny, but sooner or later it registered in his brain what you'd said..you'd do what to him.
Before he knew it he was semi hard, he looked down at his slight hard on confused, there is no way this turned him on?? He had been sent so many videos of his fan girls from all ages going down on a dildo with his name slapped on it, he never found it the least but attractive, just kind of desperate..
He watched the video again, his cock becoming fully erect as he sighed at the uncomfortable feeling of his now leaking, completely hard cock, rubbing against his suit pants.
It had been a while since he'd done something like this.. since he had used someone..he needed this, just to relax. Just a couple of strokes to get him to come, that's all.
He let out a shaky sigh, slowly trailing his thick fingers up and down his clothed cock, earning a light squeak to rip from his throat due to the slight pleasure he felt from the gentle actions.
He knew he needed it, he needed this so badly, but he wouldn't rush it. He hated when he rushed things, he says 'they never get done correctly'.
So he would be patient with himself, gently palming himself over his suit pants, letting breathy sighs leave his slightly dried and chapped lips.
He looked over to his phone to see the paused video...
'oh what the hell.' he thought to himself as he grabbed the phone, angling and holding it close to his ear to hear your voice and the loud laughs that he hopefully tried to blur out of his mind. Focusing on your voice fully.
He held the phone close to his ear closing his eyes listening to your slurred speech, and the hiccups and giggles that left your mouth, he bit his lip as his palming motions began to get harder and more rough, "I would do down right horrendous things to this man." That line stuck with him, that's what made him undo his pants and shimmy them off so he could fully touch his leaking, crying cock.
He groaned in embarrassment and disgust in himself at the sight of his already soaked boxers, why did his cock have to be so leaky!!
He whimpered at the sight, pulling his boxers down just enough to have his cock hit against himself. He wrapped two fingers around his cock and rolled his eyes back, biting his lip to sustain the sound that wanted to come out. He stroked himself slowly, letting the precum on his tip continue to drip down his thick cock.
He had listened to the audio all over again this time fixating on the part where you'd talked about his suit. He had changed up his suit a couple of times, never really straying away from the original concept he had in highschool, the green was always there to stay, and he always liked the fact his suit was more of a jumpsuit kind of thing, but changing it over the years, he went with a tighter fabric for his new and improved suit, removing the bunny ears at the back, and adding a white cape, replacing his huge bulky gloves with just as thick, smaller and well fitted ones, the white the painted his suit was now black.
He hadn't done much to his suit really.
But you and so many others thought it was the sexiest thing in the world.
He loved that, that you loved his suit, he whimpered in a pitchy octave, eyes crossing as he shut them, breaths becoming uneven as he wraps his whole hand around his aching, dripping, cock. It yearned for release, he needed it, it hurt so bad but felt so good he couldn't stop, he was sooo close!
So so close, and yet.. not close enough to get him there. He abandoned all self respect and hope for 'not rushing things' he needed to come and the only way he could is if he really touched himself.
He ripped off the top of his hero suit before rummaging in his bedside drawer to grab a Fleshlight, it was a lot more advanced than your normal average pussy shaped fleshie, it had handle and so many different modes!!! It vibrated and wiggled and had a squirt thingy that shot lube inside to make his cock slippery, not that he'd need it, his cock is like a water fountain with so much cum to give.
He turned it onto its highest setting before settling his twitching cock, dribbling with precum, inside of it.
He couldn't contain the line of moans that ripped out of him, he wanted to really he did, he wanted to keep quiet for his neighbors but he just couldn't, he felt so fucking good, he'd felt that he'd never been this hot or bothered before especially not because of some measly audio that wasn't in any way remotely sexual, and yet he was so close to cumming because of it. This video. This person. You.
You were so close to making him cum.. he was right there bucking his hips up into the contraption, shaking, whilst his whole body spasmed as he threw his head back, sweat dripping from his tired and spent body, he groaned and moaned so loudly it was so lewd, he was so lewd. He couldn't believe what he was doing, he felt so dirty, but in this very moment, he couldn't care. He was so drunk off of the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving that all he wanted, needed, was to cum.
And when he finally released with a high pitched moan, globs of tears leaving his rolled eyes, there was so much, ropes of his white, hot, thick cum squirting inside of the toy. It was still vibrating against his softening cock, it made him so overstimulated yet he couldn't move, his orgasm was so strong he didn't have the energy to take his cock out. He just sat there, holding onto the toy that continuously vibrated and massaged his limp, thick, crying cock, crying, sniffing, and whimpering.
Hell he'd probably already came again without even knowing it, his orgasms had gone on for a while, he still couldn't move, just blissfully laying against his bed, covered in sweat and tears streaming down his reddened freckled face.
As he regained his composure, the overstimulation was more than enough, he hiccuped, wiping his face from the tears and sweat that covered it, as he turned off the toy and tossed it off of his bed, he was half naked, hot, and hungry.
He groaned as he draped one of his arms over his face, feeling the sweat and tears cover his forearm, as he heard the video that had been playing over and over again on repeat. His eyes shot wide open as he scurried to grab his phone. he looked at the video in disgust. Had he really just gone to a new low, and came to this stupid video of a dumb drunk girl complimenting him??
His post nut clarity was always bad, especially because he did some pretty down bad, disgusting, sinful things. But this? Yeah he deserved to suffer for all eternity.
He groaned placing his phone under his pillow as he buried his face in said pillow, squeezing his eyes shut at how hard he'd came, his cock still filthy and sticky with his thick ooey gooey cum, now dirtying his bed.
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AN: he hates himself for how much and how hard he came, he really does.
I'm making a pt 2🤭
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benevolenterrancy · 2 years
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R, what have you done this time?
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@pilferingapples​ i’m stealing your tags because yeah that sounds about right
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chibitorra · 11 months
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They're wearing ✨pants✨
I adored their outfits in this cover story so I drew them.
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espinosaurusrexex · 6 months
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Watchful Eyes
CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU
read Bucky's story here
summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)
word count: 10.8k
warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
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“Can you start Monday?”
“I can start Monday.”
“Perfect.”
Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 
You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  
It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 
There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 
The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  
The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 
The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 
You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 
“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 
Holy Shit. 
Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 
Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.
“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”
Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.
“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.
“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 
Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.
The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 
You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 
“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 
“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.
“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”
His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 
“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”
“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.
Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”
Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 
“Sure.”
“I’m serious, Buck.”
“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 
Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 
As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 
“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 
Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 
“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.
“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 
“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 
It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 
Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 
“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 
“Just shut up, punk.”
“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 
Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 
But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 
He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 
“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”
“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 
“You aren’t serious.” 
“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 
“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 
“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 
Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.
“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 
Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 
Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 
“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 
And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 
By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.
You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  
Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 
With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 
You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 
You knew better though. 
People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 
Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.
Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 
So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 
Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 
Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.
He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 
The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 
Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 
It was worrisome. 
He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 
He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.
You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 
“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 
Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“
“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 
Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 
“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 
“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 
You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 
He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 
“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 
Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 
His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”
He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 
After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 
Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 
The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 
He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 
The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 
You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 
“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 
“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 
“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 
But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 
You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 
“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 
“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 
“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.
You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 
“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”
“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 
“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 
“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”
“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 
“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”
Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 
“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”
“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 
“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 
“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 
This was definitely new.
❁ ❁ ❁
The next week was pure torture. 
Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 
It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 
Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.
It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 
“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 
Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 
The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 
Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 
His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 
He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 
“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 
His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 
Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 
Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 
For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 
Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 
He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  
Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 
“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”
“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”
“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”
“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 
“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 
“So...?”
“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, very.”
You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”
“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?
“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 
“I knew it!”
“Nat, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 
Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 
Happy one month!
Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.
Happy one month.
You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.
You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 
“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 
“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 
“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 
Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.
With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 
It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 
Just like any other day...
❁ ❁ ❁
Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 
Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 
But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.
“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”
“What? When?”
“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 
“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 
“Amazing! Thank you so much.”
She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 
You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 
Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 
“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 
To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 
“You forgot your flowers.”
“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 
“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”
His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 
“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 
“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”
“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 
“Can I trust you?”
His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”
“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 
Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 
You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?
His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 
So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 
Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 
Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 
Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 
No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 
“You’re very good at this.”
He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 
“What are you doing?”
“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 
Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 
“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 
“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 
You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”
“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 
You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”
His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 
“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 
“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 
In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 
“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 
“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 
“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 
“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 
“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 
You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?
“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”
“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 
His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 
He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”
“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”
He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 
You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 
“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”
“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 
“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”
“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”
You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 
“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 
“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”
His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 
“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.
“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”
“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 
“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”
“I don’t know if I-“
“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 
“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”
“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 
“Wait. Almost there.”
“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 
Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 
“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”
And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.
He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 
A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 
But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 
“Good morning, Sharon.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”
“What? Until when?”
“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”
“Do you know what she has?”
“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”
Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 
“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 
“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 
“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 
Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 
“Hello?”
Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 
“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?
“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 
“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?
“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”
You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”
“I’ll see you.”
And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.
So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 
First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 
It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.
His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 
The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 
Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 
You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 
His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 
He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 
“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 
“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.
You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.
Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.
Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 
You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 
In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.
Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–
*smack*
His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 
“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”
“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 
It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 
“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”
You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 
“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”
Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 
“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 
He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 
He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”
“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 
Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”
He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 
His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 
The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 
Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.
I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!
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If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞
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simonrileysfavteacup · 4 months
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Home
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader
Word count: 600
Warnings: none ig?? it's fluff
Summary: Simon comes home with Riley after being gone for 2 weeks. But he can't find you.
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Simon shrugged the snow off his boots as he stepped up onto the porch of your shared home with his military dog, Riley. He shushed Riley as she began to whine, it was late at night and he was sure you were asleep. 
He fumbled through his bag to find his keys, finally finding them buried under treats for Riley, which she tried to steal when he wasn’t looking. He unlocked the door, Riley stepping in first in search of her mother. Simon shook his head at the dog, setting down his duffel bags. He tried his best not to be loud, he really did. 
He was still shaken up, his mind in two places. One, he was Simon. Your husband. Your everything. And then he was also Ghost. Lieutenant. Feared by many. But with you…he was just Simon. 
It was hard for him to turn Ghost off when he came back from missions but he always did. He’d always make sure you never saw that side of him. You were too special to him to see that side. The side he never wanted to become but it’s there anyways. 
The home you two shared always smelled like fresh flowers. He was positive you bought a new batch every day, even after you convinced him with receipts that you only buy a new bouquet every 2 weeks. He liked bickering with you. It was funny to watch you get all heated. 
The home was decorated with pictures, Simon’s medals which he begged you not to hang but you did anyways, pictures of Riley, and so many little trinkets. You had a little shelf in the corner of the living room for your books too. There was always a blanket draped over the couch, your first lounge place after a long day. 
But today, there was no blanket there…
Riley had run upstairs in search for you but Simon was still dumbfounded at the missing blanket. It was always over the couch. You never moved it.
The whole house is dark except for one light. The light in your office. 
He let out a snort, standing still for a moment before stripping off his military gear by the door where he left his bags. He leaves himself in just a tight black shirt and a pair of tactical pants. 
He walks into your office. The missing pink blanket is draped across your body, leaning back in your office chair, snoring away. Light illuminating from your laptop, that still remains on. 
He walks over to you, picking you up bridal style, making you stir awake a bit. 
“S-Si?” You whisper, groggy with sleep. 
He has to hold back a chuckle. “‘Ts me, lovie. ‘M home. Riley’s home. Just get some sleep, eh?” 
You blink a few times to process it. “You’re not supposed to be home for another 2 days.”
“Surprise,” Simon chuckles as he carries you upstairs. He sets you down on the bed in your bedroom before Riley begins to attack you with licks and kisses. 
Simon heads into your shared closet to change before coming back out in a pair of sweatpants, shirtless. He lies down next to you, pushing Riley away and telling her to go to bed. She whines but pads over to her bed in the corner of the room. 
Simon turns his attention back to you, stroking your hair as he looks down at you. “Hi lovie.”
“Hi,” You whisper, voice low. “Missed you.”
“I missed you too, lovie. ‘M home now, huh?” He smiles. 
“Home…” You repeat.
“Mhm. Home. Now get some sleep, eh?
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oikasugayama · 6 months
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He F--KS You When You're Stuck pt. 1
pt. 1 *Atsushi, Fukuchi, Nikolai | pt. 2 Dazai, Ango, Oda | pt. 3 Kunikida, Sigma, Akutagawa
Disclaimer: These are works of fiction. The actions in these stories do not reflect real actions taken in the source material. I do not condone the actions some characters may take in these stories. If you are sensitive to potential non-consensual activity, do not read this series.
Contains: fem!reader being stuck/confined, non-con, fingering, spitting, doggy style, cunnilingus, masturbation, degradation, being used as a toy, etc.
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*Atsushi
*This idea was originally for Atsushi, so his section is mostly a drabble! Enjoy!
You're getting ready for your first date with Atsushi when you drop an earring into your bathroom sink. It's your absolute favorite so you scramble to save it before it goes down the drain, but no-- it disappears into the darkness.
"Fuck," you swear, dropping to your knees to open the cabinet beneath the sink. The drain pipe has a bend in it before it disappears into the wall. If you're lucky the earring just dropped and is sitting in the elbow. If you're unlucky, it slid further back into the pipe.
You manage to unscrew the elbow connector by hand, only getting a bit of water on the ground. Your earring isn't in there, though. "Shit, shit, shit," you hiss, trying to look into the pipe on the wall. You have to get your phone flashlight to really see, but there it is!! Just a couple of inches back!!
You ranch one finger inside trying to grasp it, but it's too far back...so you add a second finger since your middle finger is longer, and you push as far as possible in and feel your earring just under your fingertip, and when you try to bend your fingers and pull out-- you can't. You're stuck. Thoroughly.
"You're lucky you had your phone with you," Atsushi says as he walks into your bathroom. "Otherwise, I--" his voice drops off, and you're certain it's because he just laid his eyes on you. You're on your hands and knees on the bathroom floor, your upper body inside the cabinet under the sink, and you're only in your underwear, not having put on your dress yet.
"Yeah, I know. Please, Atsushi, just get in here and help me."
"Right." He slightly stutters when he says it. A heat is stirring in his pants and he feels incredibly guilty, but as he kneels down beside you his eyes are glued to your ass. It's almost entirely exposed to him given your skimpy black thong.
"Um, I can't really-- get-- in there," he says, trying to reach in the narrow space around you without letting his body touch yours. If he feels your warmth and your sturdiness right now he's really going to lose himself.
"Just get closer, I don't care what you have to do, please! This is really uncomfortable, I just need like-- lotion or lube or something."
"Huh?!" You're looking over your shoulder at him and he can see in your eyes that you're serious, but all he can think is I'm hard I'm hard I'm hard I'm hard.
"Look around, I've got some somewhere."
Atsushi meekly agrees and crawls backwards away from you, but when he catches sight of your ass gently swaying as you shift your weight uncomfortably, he can't help but to palm his crotch, which makes him let out an involuntary whine.
"Are you good?" you ask him, and he shakes his head though you can't really see him given that he's behind you.
"It's-- [Y/N], I'm sorry, but you're so hot. I can't help it. I wanna touch you so bad." He scoots forward and presses his clothed dick to your ass, instantly throwing his head back and moaning.
"Atsushi, what the fuck?! This isn't cool-- h-hey! Ohh--" As he grinds against your ass, you feel how big his dick must be, and it sends you a jolt of arousal.
"I know a way to get something slick," he says, and you also hear the tinkling of metal as he unbuckles his belt.
"Atsushi," you say as a warning, but he ignores you.
"I'm gonna make you feel so good," he promises breathily, and then you feel his fingers caressing your cunt through your panties. "I'm gonna get you wet and then we'll get you out of there. Promise."
He pulls your panties to the side and spits, though you don't feel it hit you. You're torn between panic and frustration now, trying to pull your fingers out, but only succeeding in back up onto him, feeling how his hand must be moving over his dick, spreading his spit out as if it'll be slick enough to enter you.
Meanwhile, his fingers dip into you, and you squeal, lurching forward and banging your head against the wall. "Wha-- stop-- Atsushi!" You're ashamed at how wet you already are from him touching you, but you refuse to say so, and you don't want to let him know.
"Don't worry! I'm gonna get you out!" He says, completely brainwashed by how horny he is. His fingers disappear, only to be replaced by something bigger, thicker, and much hotter.
"Oh my god, is that your cock?!" you ask, dropping your head between your arms and guiltily leaning back into him. "Oh my god... Atsushi," you moan, giving in to how good it you just know it's gonna feel.
He whimpers behind you, and both of his hands grab your hips. He starts thrusting immediately, not giving you any time to adjust to him. His strokes are long and firm, making your ass clap against his hips.
"Oh, fuck! Atsushi-- oh, fuck, Atsushi, n-no--" You try to bite back moans and give a final plea for him to stop, but to his ears it only sounds like you moaning his name, which only spurs him on.
"Oh, yeah, baby. Oh, [Y/N]! Oh yeah!" he moans, babbling loudly over the sound of him clapping your cheeks hard. His head is thrown back, his eyes screwed tightly shut. "You're so wet. Oh, you're so hot," he whimpers. "You feel so good!"
"Atsushiiii," you whine, "You're such an asshole." You cut yourself off with a moan, and you find yourself rocking back and forth to meet his thrusts. "Oh, fuck-- It's a-- good thing we-- I was-- I wanted to do this anyway--" You try to say between your moaning and gasping.
"Yeah!" Atsushi agrees loudly. "Wanted to have sex with you so bad. Oh god, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum already, I can't-- I can't-- aaaaaa!!--" With a few rapid, hard thrusts and a loud moan, Atsushi comes, still fucking you, making his cum and your wet squish out around his dick.
When he finally pulls out and falls backwards to sit on his butt, panting to catch his breath, you groan.
"You're not done yet," you tell him sternly.
"I'm so sorry, I'll get you out, I swear!"
"Yeah and after that you've gotta make me cum or I'm never going on a date with you again."
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Fukuchi
You had the misfortune of being trapped by a mafia scheme in the tunnels below Yokohama. You're relatively unscathed, thank goodness, but unfortunately the way the train derailed and crashed sent you flying forward and you ended up pinned beneath a seat that got partially crushed when the side of the train dented inward.
Don't worry, though! You've been reassured that the mighty hero Fukuchi and his team of Hunting Dogs are coming to rescue survivors! You're so relieved, as you know of Fukuchi and how incredibly his reputation is. You have no doubt he'll save you.
"What pretty panties," is not the first thing you expect to hear from him, but when he kneels down and pats your butt, you realize your dress must have come upwards and exposed you.
"Sir?" you stutter out when his gloved fingers stroke up and down your crack all the way down between your legs to your cunt.
"This is thanks enough for the mighty Hunting Dogs saving you, wouldn't you say?"
"P-please?" you ask, meaning "say that again" or "excuse me?" but he takes it as you begging.
"Good girl," Fukuchi says, slowly removing his gloves.
He doesn't put his dick in you, but he does get a face full of your ass and pussy as he eats you out like there's no tomorrow, getting sloppy and messy, even spitting on your cunt when two of his fingers come up to rub back and forth acoss your clit
He makes you cum and demands you scream his name while you do it. When he finally gets you out of the seat and stands you up, he hands you a handkerchief and makes you wipe your wet and cum off of his face and especially out of his mustache.
"I trust this will stay between us. Go get your injuries checked out." and then he sends you on your way, not even casting a look at you over his shoulder.
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Nikolai
He forces the situation in which you're stuck. You've been his plaything for a while now and you didn't have a choice about it. He fell in lust at first sight when you started working with one of the cover-up companies for the decay of angels. he sent you flowers, treats, popped his head in now and again to talk to you, and you talked to him too because honestly he's handsome, though he makes you nervous because you know he's dangerous.
then one night his portal spawned and he appeared in your bedroom in the middle of your alone time
"What beauty!" he said, watching the panic overcome your face as you clamped your legs closed, hiding his view of the dildo buried in your sopping wet pussy. "Apologies for being late."
You freak out, telling him to leave, threatening to call the police. you reach for your phone but he gets it away from you. somehow you end up pinned down, and when you think you've fought your way free you realize you're not actually making any progress.
Nikolai summons a portal and sends the top half of your body onto the floor, while the bottom half of your body he stays on the bed. he uses his hands and knees to keep your thighs spread and your pussy exposed while he pushes his pants down just far enough for his cock to spring free.
you feel every bit of it while you see it. you watch from the floor as he fucks you on the bed. you feel his pants rubbing against your legs, you feel his fingers digging into your plush love-handles, and it's so. fucking. hot.
you had been thinking about him while masturbating anyway, and from the way he said "sorry i'm late" he must have known it, though you have no idea how. now he rails you hard, and his stamina is incredible. he's fucking you for twenty minutes straight, moving you around, flipping you over, getting different angles, before he realizes you're moaning and enjoying it. you're calling his name because you want to touch him, not because you're telling him to stop.
finally he pulls you back through the portal so he can play with your tits and cum on your face when he's finally done with his new favorite fuck toy
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yonch · 4 months
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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever
(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)
ok this got really long. here you go
sif:
ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.
ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.
they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.
they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.
they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers
41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.
isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes
isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork
he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...
kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife
can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!
39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand
mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend
i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her
speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.
she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.
moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.
38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3
odile:
my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay
she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.
she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.
64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"
bonnie:
prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)
speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)
26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise
loop:
ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.
i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that
i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.
ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.
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sherewrytes · 2 months
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Ms. Good Grip
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Inspired by this song
If you know you know. If you don't know how you know. Wanted to drop a fic with a more Caribbean inspo.
C.W : smut, Caribbean dialect, overstimulation, Caribbean black reader. Dom ony. Y/N be actin out
Your fav cousin wedding reception was in full swing. Drinks pouring, shots passing, weed smoke in the air all elders already left. You knew your boyfriend Ony wasn't used to Caribbean style parties. The pacing was completely from the usual parties he's used to. He was faded and tipsy, hands gripping your hips catching every whine you threw his way. You were completely bent over, if it wasn`t for your updo your hair would be touching the floor with how far you were bent over. You both took a break from dancing to get some drinks and more food before everyone's greedy ass ate it all up.
The song changed to Alkaline's on Fleek. As soon as you heard,
Whooo gyal yo pum, pum Gyal, yuh pum pum, Gyal, yuh pum pum on fleek.
You joined your other wild ass cousins in the dance circle and began whining. You made sure to position yourself right in front of Ony. You were secretly putting on all this show for him. All the weed and drinks had you wanting him. He looked so good in his semi casual fit You whined slowly at first slowly going lower to match the intro of the song staring him dead in his eyes while he smoked a joint with a bottle of Stag beer in his hand. His shades resting slightly lower on his nose. You watch him beckon you over with a finger, but you ignored him only because you loved riling him up at times, it makes the sex better.
You felt a hand grip your waist; you knew instantly it wasn't Ony's, but you decided to give the guy a lil dance. You cousin Shanice side eyed know mothing " Aye, you always lookin' for problems. You know how Ony's gonna react." You laughed saying "Oh well, small thing."
(Small thing- Trini slang for No big deal)
You heard the Dj scratch and the song changed to Spice's Jim Screechie
You were singing the song loud and clear while throwing it back on the random guy.
"And your gyal a watch you hard, but me no matter that Hold me tight and don't let me go Whine with me and me a whine with you"
You were giving him a wicked whine knowing for a fact that kinda whining is reserved for Ony but you thought "Oh well." The guy had one hand on your hips pulling you back against his hips while almost dry fuckin you on the makeshift dance floor. You felt a hand grab your wrist and pulled you. You looked up and saw it was Ony pulling you off the makeshift dance floor away from everyone.
"You got me fucked up; you know that. Are you goin out of your head or sum." Ony said his voice gruff with annoyance. You on the other hand were turned on by hearin' him this way. You smirked "It's just a dance Ony. I know you're suffering from not accustom. You bein' a black American I know you won't know much about my culture and shit."
You watch Ony's eye widen with annoyance "Oh really, you really wanna go that route with me. Imma give you a last chance to take that shit back." You rolled your eyes and giggled. "Still just a lil dance Ony." You attempted to walk away big mistake.
You knew it was your fault you were now in this situation. Your hands pressed and pinned against the toilet door with your back arched. Ony was feeding deep, hard strokes. You had to way to move, one of his hands pinned your hands against the door while the other was between your spread thighs rubbing your clit.
You felt your wetness run down your thigh, you were making a mess of yourself. You were coming again. You were pleading with him to take it easy on you "Ony 'm sor-sorry...please I can't"
"Nah, you can't, you weren't whining out there on him like you couldn't so nah you gon' take this dick. It's what you wanted right."
You were panting, moaning moaning his name as fucked you harder. You were now pressed against the door, his hand now pressed against the side of your neck. Between the hard slaps of his hips against yours and the song blaring in the background, you were losing your mind. You came twice already and feeling the third one fast approaching. He was rubbing your twitching clit. Rubbing so fast, your squirt was coming out faster than you realized. Your lust filled sobs were shaking your body and his, it only made him want to fuck you harder.
"Ony! Ony! Ouuu fuck I'm sorry 'm sorry please please please slow down." He stopped only to turn you over so you can be face to face as he lifted you up and pinned your back against the door again. You were both face to face. Ony's eyed still red from smoking.
"You always tryna test me and push me Y/N huh. You don't fuckin listen....actin up and showin out for WHO. that dude..playin' too much."
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your stomach clenched, you saw Ony smirk and slid his hand between both of your bodies and press down on your stomach. Your eyes widen while tears brimmed the corner. "Ouuu fuck! shit Ony..didn't mean to do it. why you fuckin me like this."
Ony tried to reign in his anger but her couldn't he felt it coming back, only pushing him to thrust deeper and harder "Don't play dumb with me Y/N you know I'm actin' like this."
Between Ony tearin your shit up and the music thumping in the background, you were close to another orgasm, tears now running down your face. Ony's hips practically pinning you between him and the door. Ony leaned in and kissed your tears away.
Ony finds your silence a bit annoying. After what felt like minutes, his hand gripped your throat. Through your teary eyes you could see you pushed Ony a bit to far but then again he knew how you were. He loved you for it.
Ony felt your body shivering against his. He kept feeding you deep, hard strokes which you were sure if the music wasn't loud as fuck everyone could hear. He felt his vexation simmering in his veins.
"Ony..please..I love you. I...Ony!" you pleaded. Ony rolled his eyes tired of hearing the same things over and over again come out of your mouth.
"Nah, love me, that's crazy Y/N. Do you really love me Y/N?" "I do Ony! I do. I won't do this shit again I swear...just.."
You were gripping around his dick so tightly he could feel his balls twitching and he fucked you against the door harder. He knew you loved pushing his buttons as much as you loved him. he wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, trying to go deep as he possibly can. You were so overstimulated you were shaking while pressed between the door and him.
"Fuck Y/N you're squeezin' me Gonna nut" you felt him fill you up groaning into your ear. You knew the amount he just came in you would leak out.
Ony sat you on the bathroom counter, helped you clean up then he cleaned up himself. You cleaned your face with make up wipes you had in your bag and reapplied your make up Ony smirked "You gon behave now my love" "Yes Ony I will"
You went back out the wedding party holding hands and smiling.
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Random Captain John Price headcanons
sfw and nsfw
pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (cod mw)
tags/tw: domestic stuff, afab!reader, masturbation, spanking, hickeys, Price is an ass-man
a/n: inspired by a conversation I had with @melancholyy-hill and just some random thoughts, might do a second part to this, tell me if you want any other characters
John Price MASTERLIST
sfw
-Price has two phones, one for work and a private one, he doesn't like using the same one when he's deployed in countries where there's definitely a chance of it getting hijacked
-he's so tidy, like having a surroundings to calm his mind, make it easier to concentrate for him
-he's also pretty strict with his own cleanliness
-don't get me wrong, Price doesn't mind getting dirty on the field and in bed, would be weird if he did lol, but once at home or base, he takes care of himself
-we talking beard oil, grooming, trimming his nails if they got jagged during deployment and picking out the dirt from beneath them
-not that he dislikes showing you off in public, on the opposite he loves having you by his side, showing others you're his, but he gets uneasy with PDA
-that's why he's such an old-fashioned gentleman with showing you affection around people, those small gestures that make women swoon and telling you that you're found 'a good one, god you're so lucky'
-hand on the small of your back in a crowd is a must, palm resting on your knee when sitting down, you walk on the side furthest from the road, standing/walking behind you on the escalator or stars if you're wearing a skirt, kisses to your hand, temple, forehead or crown
-he always does the bed in the mornings despite you being the one who wakes up last
nsfw below the cut
-he's such a fucking ass man, like he appreciates boobs, thinks your nipples look good poking through a shirt or deliciously teasing in lingerie, but he prefers your ass
-like this man's hand is drawn to the plush flesh of your rear like magnets, just like his eyes
-back turned? eyes down, staring at ass.
-don't get him started at how he folds when watching it jiggle in doggy style or reversed cowgirl
-lowkey struggles not to blatantly stare or grab at you when you're in public and the pants/leggings you're trying on make it look too fucking good for his health
-sometimes you can just be relaxing, laying on your stomach and he comes up from behind, kneading your ass, swatting it to watch it jiggle
-other times, he pulls you on top of him, resting a book against your ass as he reads, one of his hands always groping you, you simply prop a pillow on his legs to get comfortable as you'd gotten used to this request of his
- you've stopped counting the times he'd put down his book and started parting your asscheeks as he massages your rear, in the end Price can't help how his thumb rubs the folds of your covered pussy
-if he gets to know you don't mind spanking, it's over, the man swats your ass constantly around the house,
-he thinks your gasps are adorable as you shoot him a look he ignores bc he knows you like it
-does not whine, not a particularly big moaner either, but the grunts and groans is enough to make up for it
-high-sex drive when he's around you, but during deployment he keeps it under wraps, which leads me to...
-not that big of a masturabator, but once in a while he needs to rid himself of the crawling desire in his spine, simply having to jerk one out to be able to concentrate, probs because he thought about you for too long
-BUT he actually really loves mutual masturbation, started when he walked in on you once when returning unexpectedly early from a mission
-'don't mind me, love, continue' he would husk at your wide eyes following him as walked from the bedroom doorframe to the little seating area you had in front of the bed, sometimes used when you did your makeup or Price would read, sitting down and to your surprise pulling down his pant, jerking his already half-hard cock to full length, waiting expectantly
-he puts on a show as well, using two hands, one to stroke himself in matching speed to how you finger yourself, the other cupping and fondling his balls
-would definitely not shy from throwing his head backwards when reaching his sensitive cocked with palms too rough in comparison to your soft ones
- Price is so fucking sly about where he leaves hickeys
-as previously mentioned, he doesn't really like the public attention it pulls, but a primal part of him swells when seeing the marks he's left during your intimate moments, so he definitely likes to give you little lovebites
-so you can bet your ass you could leave the house in a crop-top and they wouldn't be visible, strategically placed where no one but him and you could see them, meaning the line of your panties, on or around your breast, inner thighs, etc
-the beach might be a problem however, you would never forget the time Soap had cackled like a fucking madman when he'd spotted the marks' inconspicuous placement, leaving absolutely no room to guess what Price had done between your legs
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periprose · 10 months
Note
Logan’s reaction when you wear one of his shirts!
ahhhh anon the imagery that popped into my head with this one... thank you for requesting it <3 maybe a slight warning but Logan calls reader kid, (she's an adult) because he's obviously older than everyone. also smutty implications lol
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/
"Kid. Is that my shirt?" Logan is not sure if he's just half-drunk already (it's nearly impossible for him to get drunk as it is on just a few beers) and you're wearing a big, oversized, Calgary Flames jersey.
He's fairly sure that's not yours- he doesn't think you know any Canadian hockey teams, not like that, and the jersey is definitely dated. Logan thinks he got that when the team was early in it's existence.
"Uhhh..." You turn from your spot in front of the kitchen fridge. The X-Mansion is out of milk and creamer, unfortunately. "Maybe? Sorry."
It's not your shirt that bothers Logan, not exactly. From this spot at the kitchen counter- he's leaning over, but he almost has the full view of your legs, because the shirt only meets the beginning parts of your thighs, and he wonders why on earth you have to be so annoyingly delectable. When Logan is trying his best to be professional, a proper X-Men member, you have to go and be half-naked, no pants, just luscious, sweet legs all taut and smooth as you reach upwards to scan through the upper shelf of the fridge.
You're too much for him, he thinks. If Logan was a slightly better person, he might not be having these thoughts at all, let alone considering acting on them- but he thinks about sneaking up behind you and grabbing, squeezing your ass, the back of your thighs.
"I think our laundry got mixed up like a week ago." You try your best to excuse it. Honestly, though? You were happy to steal Logan's jersey.
It's nice and comfy, and the material has worn away into a soft, loose shirt. Best of all, it smells just like him, after years of wearing it- a slight laundry detergent smell is there, but you mostly catch the smell of pine wood, mixed with cigar smoke and maybe something musky.
You didn't expect him to be down here- you didn't want Logan to know your terrible secret.
"And? You just decided you'd keep it, huh?" Logan grumbles, but he's mostly joking. His eyes are soft.
"I didn't-" You turn to him again, and you cross your arms, and it's with a little start that Logan realizes you're not wearing a bra. You're completely naked under there, other than your panties, and he gets a rush of exhilaration thinking about taking them off slowly, with his rough, callused fingers juxtaposed against your supple, soft hips. Gently squeezing your breasts as if he owns them.
There's something hot about it, Logan thinks. You wearing his shirt. As if he loaned it to you. As if he kind of owns you, as if he's your boyfriend. He can't help but feel a deep sense of pleasure. It's not as if all his hook ups and one night stands were clamoring to be his, and it's with fondness that he looks at you again.
"I thought I could give it back to you. After I wore it for a bit." You admit, and Logan has a slight smile.
"Keep it." Logan has a twinkle in his eye, his eyes glancing up and down your figure as he smirks. "It suits you, no pants and all."
He's not really joking about that- it looks way better on you, and to Logan's perverted mind, it is fascinating how this jersey he fills out so well, had a completely different style as it falls on you. It sort of drowns you- leaves your figure to the imagination- but there's just enough that he can see how it skims over your curves, making it easier for him to imagine running his hands over you. Logan thinks about lifting it up from the bottom hem, exposing you.
You turn red, almost forgetting that your legs are bare, and you don't know how to respond to that.
"Really?" You shake your head, ignoring Logan's compliment, knowing that he's just teasing. "Thanks, Logan. It honestly helps me sleep better."
You didn't mean to say that last part- you're not trying to expose the year long crush you've had on the guy- and you stutter over your words, trying not to reveal the comfort you feel around him.
You shut the fridge, and try to leave, but Logan is a little faster, and he's got you right where he wants. Against the fridge. Looking up at him, sweet, meek, just as cute as he remembers.
He leans over you. "Well, I could help you sleep better. If you want."
"Really?" You look up at him, tilting your head a little. "I thought you would think I was just some creep and tell me to fuck off."
"Oh, kid. You think you're the only one who can't stop thinking about us?" Logan swallows. "I think I've liked you since you had to help me figure out the teaching schedule, remember?"
"Who could forget? You were really struggling- your class started an hour late." You joke, and Logan grins. He's not usually such a smiley guy, and it's not something you take light-heartedly. You know he must trust you.
"Offer's still on the table." Logan murmurs, as he traces the collar of his jersey, against your neck and collarbones, and you shiver as he leans in, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It's warm, soft, inviting- but you think Logan must be holding himself back.
"Okay." You whisper up at him, and Logan, being as devious as he is, immediately grasps your waist, your ass, your thighs, squeezing, wanting to feel every bit of flesh, and he feels a deep rumble in his chest- something possessive as he leans in and kisses you, something firm and rough as he feels his shirt around you- and Logan's mouth slots against your own quite easily, open-mouthed, rough kisses that have you shuddering, as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you against the fridge.
You know Logan didn't mean sleeping. He meant putting you to sleep, by sleeping with you, and this silly double meaning, the idea of getting to do all that and then cuddle and sleep by his side, it makes you smile against his mouth.
Logan doesn't stop kissing you as he lifts you up and away, you still wrapped around him, towards his room, feeling an immense amount of slick, lustful pride that he's bringing back his shirt and his girl there.
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l13 · 11 months
Note
what kinda kinks do you think hobie would have? :33
first of all i wanna apologize for this lazy ass writing i'm just UNHINGED i've seen so many hobie edits my mind cannot take this madness i'm seriously in love with him it's not a joke anymore, like i need him bro, I N E E D HIM
NSFW 18+, MDNI
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❥ i haven't heard a lot of people say this about hobie but i think he'd REALLY like power exchange, like let my MAN BE A SWITCH PLEASEEEEEE guys please trust me okay hear me out, picture this: hobie laying naked on the bed, chest rising and falling rapidly as you continue to jerk his cock in an torturously slow pace, he's already cum once, so his hips jump every time your fist closes around his tip, and he's groaning, the sound trailing off to a breathy chuckle as he glances up at you, grinning lazily "Y're killin' me, y'know that?" throw in a little nipple play and man's GONEEEE
❥ definitely and i mean DEFINITELY likes dry humping ohhhhh?>>my god??? literally starts as a joke on the rare occasion he sees you bent over, or braced against a counter or smth, he HAS to come and hump you, and it's fine cause you literally do the same thing to him (you're the one that started it). the first time you did it he had laughed the sound giving you goosebumps as he glanced at you over his shoulder with a tiny smirk "You're mental,". but then proceeds to do the same thing to you every chance he gets. One day, you just rolled your hips back against him and the whole vibe changed. You shivered when you heard him inhale sharply from behind you, and his hands circle around your frame to pull you closer. and then he's thrusting against you hard, his clothed cock rubbing against the swell of your ass making you both moan as he drops his head on your shoulder to pant, "About fuckin' time,"
❥ random horny thought and not really a kink: he loves fucking you doggy style in front of a mirror, hand holding you by the throat, his fingers skimming your jaw as he tugs you back to him every time he thrusts forward, his other hand holding onto your ass securely as he snaps his hips against you. And then he's pulling at your throat and suddenly your back is flush against his chest, and the hand that was holding your ass travels around to your pussy to circle at your clit. You're both moaning when you tighten up so much around his cock "Look at you," he's groaning, snapping his hips up instead of forward and your mouth drops open in a silent scream as his cock touches that spongy spot inside you, and he's moaning "Yeah? Right there? You're so fuckin’ pretty, baby, should be fuckin’ illegal," and you're mewling, “You’re so good to me Hobie.. Can feel you so fucking deep inside me oh my God-” “Shit- don’t say that or I’ll cum-” DAAAAAMN okay i got sidetracked again
❥ lil bit of a voyeur maybe, he'd take you even at a secluded space at HQ (would first make sure if you're 100% in tho) he'd fuck you against the wall, with his hand over your mouth as he mutters against your shoulder, "Wanna hear you so fuckin' bad.. but we can't, right? Can't let them know how much of a good girl you are f'me.. Ah, fuuck-S only for my eyes."
❥ CONSENTTTTT consent turns him on so much- and let me explain okay imagine you're just getting ready to suck him off, unbuttoning his jeans, still giggling at his face when you'd said "no, the belts stay on," and then your fingers are finally under the waistband of his boxers and you're looking up at him- "Can I take these off?" and he's so confused bc he's never actually had anyone else ask him that question before "Wh- yes?" and when his cock is finally out in all its glory, and you're licking your lips, you ask again, "Can I touch it?" he can't hold back his smile this time, letting out a giddy laugh, "Baby, 'f course you can, you don't have to ask," idk he just thinks it's the hottest thing ever
❥ extra crack hc cause it just came to me: imagine him being like "You wanna try slapping me in bed?" and you're just looking at him like he's grown two heads but nod slowly nonetheless "....sure?" and then you actually slAP him like 10 minutes later and he's like :C "That felt personal love, m'feelings are kinda hurt." and you're just apologizing over and over and he's laughing at you- "m just playing wit' you. but yeah absolutely not doing that shit again,"
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motimatcha · 4 months
Text
“ morning and evening. ”
hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader
headcanons about home routine with Adam.
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You and Adam are late birds: you get up and go to bed quite late. Adam can’t sleep until he’s exhausted all his energy, which ends around three in the morning or until his eyes (and whole body) start to hurt from watching some cheap TV series (or porn). If you can't sleep, then Adam is ready to keep you company — this is one of those rare cases when you both enjoy silent time with each other.
Your relationship has a pre-bed self-care routine. Moreover, a joint routine. You can stand next to each other and brush your teeth, or one of you can take care of your hair/skin. I also think you two need a really big bathtub both as a room and as a soaking tub because of Adam's wings and his childish behavior.
Washing together includes two options:
1. Romance or even intimacy. The water is barely half full, barely above room temperature, and Adam’s hands slide over your body. His lips give your neck fleeting kisses and do not stay in one place for a long time, nor do they kiss the same place twice.
2. When he really wants to woo you. Adam carefully selects the shampoo for your hair so that “your hair should smell like roses and make everyone gasp and be envious.” Adam also lets you take care of his hair; do you want it to smell like vanilla? "Okay, this is not my style, but let's do it." What about the power of the forest? “Babe, where did you even get this shampoo??” Adam definitely prefers shampoo that smells like mint or "male power" because he's supposed to be the alpha male, the dominant one.
I think Adam sleeps in fabric pants (I don't remember the exact style name, but you can imagine those gray pants (if you know what I mean)). If you fall asleep with him wearing only a T-shirt over your naked body, then Adam will hardly be able to keep his hands to himself. I believe he has a whole ritual before he falls asleep that involves putting his hand under your T-shirt so that his thumb is dangerously close to your chest.
If we assume that angels can hide their wings (as demonstrated by Lucifer and Vaggie), then Adam sometimes hides his wings: when he sleeps, when he wants to lie on his back, when he has sex with you, and when he wants you to snuggle against his side, and your head rested on his chest on the side of his heart. Adam is a selfish bastard who doesn't care if his wings get in the way of anyone (he'll even laugh at you) because he already did more than enough when he pressed his wings to his body.
Lying on his side, he likes to press you to his body not only with his arms, but also with his wings. Adam is basically very clingy and if you don’t object, he is ready to fall on you with his whole body.
Adam is very lazy in the morning. He, like you, can get up closer to lunch, enjoying a late breakfast (at four o'clock in the evening, for example).
His favorite pastime is to watch you cook, clinging to your back and hugging your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder or the top of your head.
He also doesn't mind if you do the same while he makes you two coffee or breakfast.
Adam can't help but sit you down on the table and stand between your legs. The fingers of one of his hands rest on your thigh, the other hand holds a cup of sweet (definitely sweet) coffee while he carries on some casual conversation with you.
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I add random pictures to understand which post you liked in my notifications.
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lxndonorris · 5 months
Text
wearing his clothes - Charles Leclerc
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Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish Charles catches you wearing his clothes, and he needs to put in some work to get it back x word count: 1900 taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)
In the soft glow of the bedroom, you open the closet, looking at a display of your boyfriend's clothes. Charles owns so many pretty clothes, but one item in particular caught your attention once he brought it back from his latest photoshoot.
A beautiful black leather jacket, slim fit, tight—just the way he and you like it. Charles sent you the pictures right after the shoot, but seeing him actually wear those clothes blew your mind.
Right now, he is busy getting ready for a boy's night out with his closest friends. You saw him through the open door, running his fingers through his hair and styling it—a beautiful sight. You assume, as much as he loves that jacket, that he wants to wear it tonight.
At the same time, you know how much he loves seeing you wearing his clothes, and you want to use that to your advantage by teasing him a little and putting him in the right mood for today.
Looking through his closet, you find a few gorgeous jackets and designer clothes, and all of them tickle your fancy. However, that leather jacket is what you need.
"There you are." You carefully take it out of the closet and look at it. What a beautiful piece of clothing!
Just then, you hear his voice echo through the hallway. "Y/N? Have you seen my rings?" Charles exclaimed.
With a coy smile, you drape his leather jacket over your shoulders and slip inside, one arm at a time, savoring your boyfriend's familiar scent that envelopes you. The supple material embraces you, carrying his scent like a secret promise.
You catch a glimpse of yourself inside the mirror, his jacket hanging just right, accentuating the contours of your figure. The soft hum of anticipation fills the room as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning around to watch the doorhandle move, the jacket sets comfortably against your skin.
The door eases open, revealing him, his hair nicely done, his sweater, pants, and shoes flattering his well-formed physique perfectly.
"Y/N. I found the rings." Charles soft voice fills the room when his gaze falls upon you. Instantly, his eyes widen with surprise, and a grin forms on his lips. "Oh, hello." He says, casually leaning with one arm against the doorframe, as your focus shifts to the bulging biceps barely hidden underneath the fabric of his sweater.
"Hey." You lift your chin slightly and raise both of your eyebrows. His jacket makes you feel so comfortable, tough even. Running a hand through your hair, you strike a little pose, holding on to the jacket, when you catch him biting his lower lip.
"Well, aren't you a sight?" Charles remarks, his eyes lingering on the way the jacket clings to you.
You can't resist a mischievous smile, wearing that jacket like a trophy. "Thanks, babé." You tilt your head teasingly, enjoying how much his gaze devours all of you.
Charles licks his lips as his eyes linger on your chest, and subconsciously, he places a hand at his pecs and strokes himself before letting it run down his entire chest.
"That looks better on you than it does on me." He teased his voice, carrying a mischievous tone.
You feel a flush of warmth as his admiration becomes palpable. He closes the distance, his fingers tracing the edge of the jacket, and the touch a gentle caress.
"You really make it look so much better than I ever could." He admits that his voice low and appreciative.
The tension rises between the two of you as he moves even closer. The faint scent of his cologne grows stronger once he leans in to you, his soft lips barely brushing over your cheeks before he lets out a deep breath.
"Fuck. You're so hot." Charles' hands wander down to your waist, securely holding you in place. A spark of electricity rushes through your veins as you open your mouth, letting out a breathless sigh.
"Charles." You mouth, placing a hand at his firm chest, tracing the tangible outlines of his pecs through his tight clothes.
He breathes down your neck, surely holding back a low moan himself. "Y/N." Charles whispers, and you lean your head back in response.
"How about a trade?" You propose, gently stroking his chest. His muscles are tensing slightly, getting harder by the second.
He slowly separates himself, just enough for you to still feel his warmth against your cheek. "What do you have in mind?" Charles chuckles under his breath, both of his hands still at your waist, stroking you with his thumbs.
You lean in, steadying yourself against his frame with both of your hands. "A kiss for your favorite jacket?" Teasingly, you meet his burning gaze.
At the sound of your words, a mischievous smirk forms in the corner of his lips."
Y/N." He frowns. "I cannot decline that offer."
His eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and desire, and without hesitation, he closes the distance between you. The warmth of his lips meets yours in a sweet exchange, sealing the deal.
Once or twice, you kiss each other, embracing each other again and again. The tension engulfs both of you as you move even closer. His hands run along your waist, resting and caressing your butt, while yours run down his chest, feeling his toned body tense underneath his sweater.
But you won't stop there yet. In the heat of the moment, you cannot help but run a hand to his crotch, feeling his desire building up, forming a tangible bulge inside his pants.
He flinches once you touch and feel him, encouraging him to rock his hips against the palm of your hand.
"Mhmmm." Charles purrs right into your mouth as you close your eyes, fully embracing this moment.
"You like that, huh?" You tease once again and lean your head back, enjoying the smug grin spreading across his entire face. He narrows his eyes and lifts his chin as well, while you keep on teasing him with your fingers.
There is no need for more words. Both of you know that he's into that, enjoying you making the first move. Charles just shakes his head in amusement, a bright smile on his lips.
"You're one to talk." He says it with a playful tone.
Before you can react, however, he easily picks you up.
"Charles." You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Both of you giggle now as he carries you toward the bed. You hold on tight, hugging him with your arms and legs.
Gently, he puts you down on the soft mattress before he climbs on top of you, his body towering over yours.
"You're enjoying that, huh?" Charles smirks, his accent coming through a little.
Your eyes wander to his necklace, now hanging in the air just inches above your chest. The two of you are breathing quickly, barely able to catch your breath.
Nodding, you embrace him once he bends down, kissing you again and again while grinding his hips against your thighs.
Your whole body tingles in excitement, but you tilt your head to breathe deeply.
"Fuck. Charles." You let out a low groan when he starts placing kisses all over your neck.
Then, however, he stops.
"I need to go now." Charles places a hand at your neck, tracing your jawline with his fingers, before caressing your cheeks lovingly.
"I know." You lean into his soft touch, feeling his cold rings on your skin.
He helps you off the bed, reaching for your hand.
Lovingly, Charles starts to undress you, one arm at a time, you let go of his leather jacket. You enjoy feeling his hands run all over your upper body. Naturally, he uses this to his advantage, touching you and your boobs gently as well.
Giggling, you turn around, and your eyes meet again. This time, it is more playful, yet you're longing for his gentle touch, his warm embrace, and his lips on yours. Your heart is still racing, and you know he is feeling the same. Charles keeps on touching himself, stroking his chest, his tummy, and his bulge multiple times.
With a grin, he slips into the jacket that had just adorned me moments before. The material molds to his frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and making him look effortlessly good. You watch with a mix of curiosity and delight as he adjusts the collar, clearly enjoying the familiar comfort.
Charles then turns to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "How do I look?" He asks, striking the same pose as in the photoshoot.
Of course, he knows how well he looks. His strong yet slim frame looks so good as he strokes his chest through the fabric of his jacket. All of his clothes flatter him perfectly, but his pants are now unable to hide his desire.
A chuckle escapes you. "Surprisingly good, considering it's my turn to admire now." You reply, appreciating the sight of him wearing the jacket with a newfound allure.
He walks toward you, a swagger in his step, and wraps his arms around you, the jacket providing another layer of warmth. The scent lingers in your nose, making you lick your lips once.
"Maybe you should borrow it more often." He suggests, his lips curving into a charming smile.
You kiss him softly before he pulls away once more, walking over to the mirror, admiring his own reflection.
He runs a hand through his groomed beard, seemingly enjoying himself. When you catch him touching himself, his bulge firmly.
"We should finish that later." You raise your eyebrows again.
Curiously, he turns around, one hand still on his length and the other stroking his own chest.
"Oh, that sounds so good." His accent is still present as his rough voice fills the air all around you.
A soft smile plays on your lips as you take in the way he carries himself, the jacket adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance. The dim light in the room cast a subtle glow on his features, emphasizing the allure of the moment.
Lost in admiration, you meet his eyes and whisper, "You look incredible in that jacket," letting the unspoken tension linger in the air.
The exchange of glances speaks volumes—a silent acknowledgement of the attraction that went beyond the fabric of the jacket, creating a connection that feels both intimate and exhilarating.
Charles closes the distance again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a kiss followed by a warm, tight hug.
As he prepares to leave for the night, the air between you holds a subtle tension—a mix of longing and anticipation. He adjusts the jacket one last time, a confident smile on his lips.
You stand there, watching him with a longing gaze, wishing he would just stay now so you could extend this moment of intimacy.
Your eyes meet, and in that moment of lingering intensity, words seem unnecessary. The exchanged glances convey a myriad of emotions—affection, desire, and a touch of playfulness.
"I love you." Charles says softly, kissing you again.
"I love you too." You trace his jawline with two fingers, enjoying how his stubble tickles your skin. "Enjoy yourself, will you?" Patting his chest gently, you paint a coy smile on his lips.
With one last longing look, he leaves for the night.
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uncouth-the-fifth · 22 days
Text
i'd like to report a crime - Leon Kennedy/Reader
read it on Ao3.
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Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: anxious work stress + leon comfort!!, leon being a fucking goober Notes: when i'm at work I'm always picturing him swooping in to save me...... leon kennedy if you can hear me please protect me from 9-5 hell... and like I said before, I would LOVE requests or prompts for this fic, I have so many ideas but I can't commit to any of them lol.
Standing in the bullpen at work today, you had a thought. Maybe they called it “medieval torture” because that was a whole lot catchier than “a shitty day at the busiest police precinct in Washington DC.”
It certainly felt like medieval torture to you. Before you’d even stepped into your big girl pants this morning, you knew that today was going to suck. Plain and simple. Suck. Yet another presidential event was bringing the Secret Service’s jurisdiction into your already hectic station, meaning that big square dudes in suits were going to be breathing down your neck until quitting time. You had three huge active cases that needed your attention. One of those cases came pre-packaged with a deeply annoying lawyer, who, in your professional opinion, has his head shoved a foot up his ass. He will absolutely be showing up to bother you today.
And worst of all: in your haste to get to work (Leon had put some serious effort into making you late), you’d accidentally worn a pair of super uncomfortable shoes! So now every waking moment of your existence was bonafide torture.
Clamping your jaw, you glance up from the paperwork in front of you and check your watch. Three o’clock. Right, okay, you can work with that.
You slap your hands down on your desk as you push out of your seat, and it gets a satisfying yelp out of the man sitting cross-legged beside it. He bristles up like a porcupine and nasally complains, “Where are you going, Detective Kennedy? You said we could—”
“Coffee, Douglas,” you bite back to said lawyer.
The last thing you want right now is some of the lousy, watered-down coffee from the station’s breakroom, but taking mini-breaks at your desk is just not an option anymore. Douglas has been camped out there from the moment you clocked in, and since you both refuse to budge, he’s going to stay there. Breakroom it is. You wince the whole way there, cursing your shoes from hell.
Someone forgot to start another pot of joe, so you have the absolute pleasure of doing it yourself. A small blessing in disguise, really. You give the glass pot your best thousand-yard-stare the whole time it heats the water, and just when the outline of it is starting to burn behind your eyelids, you’re jolted out of your glazed reverie by a cheerful, “Detective Kennedy!”
The officer appears at your side like she was there the entire time, and you wouldn’t put it past her—Giana is the latest in a long line of rookies who have imprinted on you over the years. Good kid, but a little on the overeager side.
She gives you a sympathetic frown and launches into way too much bubbly talking for your aching head to handle. “Heyo! Man, it’s crazy today, huh? You look beat, detective. Hey, think of it this way—just a few more hours and we’ll be home free! Any fun plans tonight?”
The question triggers a movie-style flashback sequence in your mind, complete with black-and-white visuals and some tasteful dream fog. Leon, your husband, boredly poking around the aisles of a new Target by your place. Leon discovering the boys' toy section. Leon, your beautiful, amazing husband, going starry-eyed at the massive NERF Elite Titan CS-50 Toy Blaster, which you’re pretty sure you need a license to operate.
He’d tapped the Nerf box like a boy on Christmas morning. “150 foam bullets, baby.”
But it would take a lot of energy to relay all of that to Giana. So instead of explaining that you’re having an epic Nerf duel with Leon when you get home (no headshots, loser makes dinner), you cooly answer: “...Spending time with my husband.”
Giana hums. “It’s so weird to me that you’re married…” (Thanks.) “I can’t even picture you not grinding away at some case.”
The coffee machine burbles out its last sad spit of coffee. You pour a good amount into your mug, smiling, “Oh, Leon’s just as bad. We’re both married to our work. He’s just my favorite mistress, s’all.”
Giana opens her mouth to launch into another cheery tirade you can’t catch up with. You like the girl, but on top of being way too eager, she’s also painfully see-through. For example, you don’t even have to turn around to know that a gloriously hot guy has just walked into the bullpen behind you. It’s written all over Giana’s owlish look over your shoulder. Hell, you can even clock that he’s heading straight this way—not only does Giana cross herself to bid away impure thoughts of the stranger, but she evaporates into smoke out of pure shyness.
“Look out!” She stage-whispers.
Aw. Poor girl, you think as she waddles away. Considering who’s going to be unloading a clip of foam bullets into you later this evening, (what a strange double entendre), you’re basically immune to hot guys. You can handle this.
“Excuse me, detective, I’d like to report a crime?”
All sense of professionalism poofs off your face at that familiar voice. You whirl to face your husband, and in one swift slash, the ten ton weight of your stress is slapped clean off your back.
Leon’s resting stare has slowly been absorbed by his Serious Agent Face. But today, he’s smoldering less in the business way and more in the off-duty model way. In a white tee, jeans, and racing-striped leather jacket, he certainly looks the part, clean-shaven and dewy-skinned. Fuck him and his unblemished skin. What Umbrella moisturizer was he using back in the day, dammit?
You’re capable of joking again and fall flawlessly into the bit. “Of course. What kind of crime, beautiful?”
He isn’t really able to look flustered, but you think you get close to the impossible with the way his head tilts at that line. You notice that he’s hiding something behind his back.
“A theft,” he answers. The tiniest smirk twitches on his mouth. “My heart’s been stolen.”
…What a fucking cornball. The tragic part is that you find the joke pretty funny, and not completely in the ironic way. He waits for you to giggle and twirl your hair or what-the-fuck-ever, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction, ducking into his quick hug to grin into his shoulder.
You groan at his awful joke. “Jesus. You need a fork for all that corn, Leon?”
“I take mine off the cob,” he drawls in your ear. With that voice, he could make anything sound suggestive.
You’re about to pout at him for failing to return your hug, when you draw back and see that his hands are full. It’s then that Leon presents his bounty to you, bowing his head and holding his trophies aloft like a knight giving respect to his princess: in one hand, one of the stupid expensive coffees you like, and in the other… your comfiest work flats.
“How?” is the first thing your fish brain manages to say. Because, truly, how does he always know? The coffee, the shoes— “Did you put a tracker in me? One that tells you everything I’ve been complaining about all day?”
You go slumping down into the nearest seat, mystified by him. Leon sets the still-steaming coffee down in front of you and kneels, stooping to help you out of your shoes-from-hell. The strap around your ankle has rubbed the bone raw even through your tights. He gets the clasp loose on the first shoe with little fussing, then soothes the skin with tender brushes of his thumb.
“Mhm,” he hums. All you can see of him from this angle is the layers of color in his hair, deep browns and ash blondes blending into one another. The smug pride in his voice is obvious—he loves knowing he’s read you well. “Tells me when you’re hungry, too. Have lunch with me?”
Please god, your body begs. Just picturing it loosens some of the tension in your neck. Like last time, the two of you would play-fight over where to eat, and your cute little delivery boy would go pick up the winner. That way, you wouldn’t have to waste a single moment of your allotted thirty-minute lunch. Leon would pull up a seat at your desk (maybe scare Douglas off with a flash of his badge), and you’d get a blissful, uninterrupted dose of him. Enough to get you through the rest of your shift.
He’d be too deep in Professional Agent Mode to babble like he does at home, but Leon’s raspy chuckles and his hand on your knee would tide you over til’ five.
…But no, the universe is never that kind to you. You wince at Leon’s offer and drop an apologetic hand to his shoulder, still knelt at your feet and working on your other shoe. He’s too good to you. “M’ sorry, baby, but I think I’m gonna have to work through lunch if I wanna get home on time. Rain check?”
He doesn’t mind. He throws a squinty warning stare your way, not happy that you’re getting dangerously close to overworking yourself, but he understands.
A sly smile creeps onto Leon’s face as he helps you slip on a flat. “I could talk to your Captain. What if you were pulled away for a ‘federal emergency?’”
“Then I think me and my Captain would implode from stress,” you laugh. “He’d think I’d been drawn into some national crisis or something.”
Leon scoffs. “That’s only happened, like, once.”
The other flat welcomes your poor, aching foot like a jacuzzi hot tub, and you take a deep magical sip of the overpriced coffee he got special for you. It trumps the watery breakroom joe any day.
For a minute you’re so stupidly happy that you could easily punch a boulder clean off a cliff. Hell, you might even twirl your hair.
“One too many times!” You groan. Since he’s being all cute and kneeling at your feet, you can’t resist poking him a couple of times to be silly. In the chest. In the cheek. In the heart. Stage-whispering, you accuse, “I think you just like having excuses to work with me.”
Leon finishes helping you into your shoes, but he’s in no hurry to leave his spot. One of his rough hands finds yours in your lap and toys with your wedding band, twisting it, testing the groove where it’s been sitting for a few years now. Those big blue eyes fix on your face. You’re married to the guy, but something about being the subject of all his naked attention makes you feel like shrieking into a damn pillow. He’s the best. Judging by that mean little smile on his face, he knows it’s true.
He gives your hand a little squeeze and points out, “I was your partner before anyone else. We never got our buddy cop beat—so yes, I will shove myself into your world since I can’t pull you into mine.”
You’re grateful he still thinks that way. Getting him to talk about Raccoon is harder than pulling teeth, but this—your partnership, whether that be as cops in an imaginary second life, or as husband and wife—never fails to pry him right open.
You’d been asked before if it was frustrating, how your paths had split after the city had blown. The two of you had come from the same spot and endured the same things, but where Leon had soared up, you’d kept to what you knew. No part of you envied him for it. In his mind, the two of you were still the same unit you’d been then, endlessly loyal to one another. You watched Leon’s back and—clearly, he watched yours.
“You’re my favorite,” you tell him, sweetly petting his chin. “I’m gonna fucking destroy you at our Nerf duel when I get home.”
All the buttery tenderness wipes from his face, and in an instant he’s on his feet, clapping a scarred hand down onto your shoulder and bending to whisper fiercely in your ear. “I’d like to see you try.”
He smushes a kiss to your cheek, waves a friendly, “See ya,” and melts back into the current of the rowdy bullpen. You hate to see him leave, but by god, you love to watch him go.
A few seconds after Leon says his goodbye, Giana, your rookie, peers around the open door of the break room. Her patchy blush goes all the way down to her uniform collar. “...Nevermind. I can definitely picture you married, Detective Kennedy…”
-
Ask to be added to my Leon taglist!
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misshugs · 2 months
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Desperate || snc
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[req by @venusisaligned ] Another investigation, another scary night... well, maybe not so scary after all. They just can't seem to stop teasing you.
contains: SMUT +18, oral (m&w), cursing, pet names and all the good stuff
word count: 2.5k
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"So this is the place?" You ask, looking at the Victorian-Styled house right infront of you. "Doesn't look half bad for like a 500 year old house."
"It looks great, right?" Sam smiled at you, opening up the door to the place. "Tour guide already told me where the key was so we can have a look before they get here."
"So we're having the place to ourselves for a couple of minutes?" Colby asked, walking inside after you.
"Yep, what do you guys wanna do?" Sam asked, closing the door.
"Well, we can do a lot of things in just a few minutes." Colby smirked while looking at you, making you chuckle.
"Ouf, don't threaten me with a good time." You answered to his obvious question.
"I never said anything, you dirty mind filled in the blanks."
"And how did you know I was thinking about that?" You raised a brow, leading him to think about it.
"Touché. You got me there." He laughed. "But hey. It really is an option. Just sayin'."
"You're hearing this guy right now?" You look at Sam while pointing at Colby, making them both smile.
"I mean, he does have a point..." Sam crept just a slight bit closer to you, making your heart skip a beat for a second, his intentions unsure, yet clear.
"Ah, you see? I'm not the only one." Colby proudly spoke up, making you roll your eyes.
"Oh, shut up."
"Make me." He quickly responded, gaining a giddy smile from him.
"I'll make you shut up alright." You said, your tone quickly shifting to a more flirtatious one, turning a switch on their system.
As you were slowly walking closer to Colby, Sam getting ready to join quickly after, a sound made you stop in the midst of cupping Colby's face on your hands and his hands quickly finding their way to your waist.
A knock.
"Hello?" Someone from outside asked. The tourguide.
You pouted, sighing as you separated from Colby's embrace. "Way to ruin the mood. Thought we had more time." You whispered, looking at Sam who was clearly bit annoyed by the timing.
"I did say minutes. Sorry." He apologized while quickly walking towards the door.
It gave Colby some time to grab your wrist and hold you closer, quickly giving you a peck on the lips. "Might be leaving me hanging now, but this isn't over." He whispered in your ear.
"Oh, I know." You smirked, walking towards the newly arrived people.
The tour wasn't long. The house had quite a few rooms, but most of them weren't really as interesting as the two main ones, where most of the activity was.
You were hugging yourself while listening to the guide talk about the story of the place and the people that have misteriously died.
"It is said that she killed herself, but there are speculations that say she was killed in her room while she was sleeping. Nothing quite confirmed, though. Since every time someone tries to talk to her she seems to avoid the topic."
"But she's able to answer any other question?" Colby asked the guide, gaining his attention for the meantime.
Leading him to not see Sam's hand slowly caressing your lower back, putting his hand underneath your shirt without anybody noticing.
You didn't respond to his touch to let him play it off, but your heart was palpitating at a higher rate the moment you felt his touch on your skin. You gulped, barely listening to the story as you kept on dozing off due to your attention being kept on... other things.
Although your vision was kept on Colby and the guide, your mind was vividly thinking, and feeling, Sam's touch. How he slowly descended his fingers to the waistband of your panties, softly playing with them before you could feel his hands getting deeper into your pants.
His hand holding onto one of your soft cheeks, squeezing them, making you sigh at the feeling. You looked up at him slightly. He seemed concentrated in the story, unlike you. If it weren't for the fact that you could no longer think straight due to your sex quickly heating up, you'd think he was just extremely curious about the story.
It would've been the case for anyone else looking at him.
Before his fingers could descend closer to where you needed him to be, he pulled away. Putting his hand on your shoulder, he answered a question the guide had asked him.
Looking at him, you almost wanted to whine about losing his touch, but you couldn't. There were others around, you couldn't.
And that's what made it worse. Or better. You could feel the adrenaline, your heat quickly turning sticky and getting caught on your underwear due to the sudden dampness.
Quickly, the questions were over and so was the tour.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
It was almost 12 in the morning, you guys were back from a lunch break whilst waiting for it to get late. The house in the daylight didn't seem too scary. In fact, it actually seemed quite vivid and beautiful.
But you couldn't say the same about it at nighttime. It was frightening, it had a different vibe to it that you just couldn't put your finger on.
Almost as if it were alive, but not in a good way like before. It felt as if it was desperately trying to pull you in, only for you to never walk back out.
Your easy going nature almost jumped out of the window when you walked inside. It felt cold, dead.
How ironic.
"Wow, it really does feel different at night." You said, remembering some of the few words you could remember the guide telling you about. This was... normal.
"It really does... it makes it spookier." Sam smirked. "Hopefully we get some good activity tonight." He gave you a quick glimpse before walking around.
As they began recording and walking around with you, your instinct cracked through and you held onto Colby's arm for some feeling of protection, which he didn't argue about.
"Alright, I think it's time to get the equipment, I'll be right back." Sam gestured to the outside, walking away.
Colby, on the other hand, didn't waste a second to get his hands on you. Quickly pinning you towards a wall, his lips interlocked with yours. A slow, wet and messy kiss.
His leg finding its way in the middle of yours, inducing pressure on your heat, letting out a moan that was drowned by the makeout session.
A hand slowly descended towards your hip, his thumb making circles around the slit where your skin was visible. When the both of you pulled away from the kiss, he didn't waste any time and slid his hand inside your pants and right in between your legs, touching your clothed cunt and making you whine in response.
"Such a tease you are. You're already wet for me, for us." He whispered in your ear, making circles on your clit. You panted at the feeling, your legs almost giving up.
"Colby..." You sighed.
"Desperate already? I can feel it." He kissed your burning cheek, giving you even more pressure with a mere finger.
If this is how one of his fingers made you feel, imagine everything else.
"Alright," You could hear Sam coming back, which made Colby smirk and pull away from you, making you whine at the sudden loss of touch. "Here's everything."
"Then let us begin, brother." Colby said, walking away from you. Sighing, you followed close behind.
It was absurd, you could simply fuck right there without an issue, but they knew you liked this. They knew you loved to be teased, to be on the edge at all times.
And they were right, you fucking loved it.
And it went like that for the whole night. Not even when the both of them were in the room you were... 'safe'. One of them was always closer to you than the other, therefore, more chances of him to touch you softly without the other noticing.
Or, at least, that's what you though. Both of them knew what they were doing alright, but they were acting as oblivious as possible to make it more entertaining.
It was going to be a bit complicated to edit out, though.
Whenever they started using some sort of method to communicate, they started to get touchy with you in the most discrete way possible.
Even whilst asking questions while doing the estes method. Somehow, they always seemed to find a way of holding you closer, getting more intimate without the camera on strict view of you.
A whole hour of teasing passed and you just couldn't handle it anymore. When Sam walked out of one of the main rooms, you held onto Colby's hand and got him closer to you, kissing him once again like before.
He smiled in the middle of the kiss, holding you by the hips while you cupped his face. Stepping away from the kiss, he chuckled.
"Babe, we need to keep going."
"Oh, fuck the investigation. I can't hold it anymore Colby, please." You whined, desperation on your words. "I need you."
He couldn't help but smile brighter. "You don't know how much I've been waiting for you to say that." He whispered before holding you up to walk you towards the bed.
He hurriedly got to taking off your shirt, trying not to separate his lips from you as much as he could. Kissing your neck whilst taking off your bralet, you tried to take off his shirt, successfully throwing it away.
Going back to your lips, his rough kisses were as desperate as you were. You grabbed the back of his neck, intensifying it and playing with his hair. You could feel his hands on your waistband, quickly pulling down your pants and leaving you with the last piece of clothing that was covering your cunt.
Before he could even remove it, you heard a noise, a knock. The both of you looked at the door, at Sam. He was with his hands crossed across his chest and his body resting on the door.
"So we're finally doing it?" He raised a brow and walked in looking at the both of you.
"Finally?" You panted, still with a shaky breath and looking at him confused.
"Yeah, well, when I said 'activity' I didn't just mean paranormal. We're not that oblivious as to what both of us were doing all this time, sweetheart." He responded, holding onto your cheek and kissing you softly. "I just wasn't expecting it to be so soon."
"She got desperate." Colby said, which made Sam chuckle.
"As always. Can't handle some teasing, hm?"
"Just... just... please." You begged, already feeling drunk by their mere touch.
"Please what, baby?" He asked, crawling on top of the bed. Colby made you lie on your chest, giving you a slap on the ass when he got the oportunity, making you whine.
"Please, take it off..." You mewled, feeling another slap before moving your hand towards his crotch.
"Then pull it out if you need it so badly, sweetheart." Colby whispered in your ear, biting it slightly. You could feel his fingers rubbing against your aching cunt, slowly pressing against the fabric.
You gulped and did as told, holding onto Sam's pants and taking off his belt, unzipping his pants. Your panties were slowly being pulled down while you kept on paying attention to the bulge underneath Sam's pants.
On the other hand, Colby's eyes darkened at the view he was receiving. Your dripping wet cunt made his own mouth water. He held onto your ass cheeks tightly before moving his thumbs towards your lips and spreading them apart.
Such a lewd site to admire. Licking his lips, he got on his knees and gave you a long, wet, lick. A moan escaped your lips, gripping onto the clothed dick you were rubbing against your palm, making him grunt a soft "Fuck."
Your legs shuddered at the feeling of his tongue against your heat. It almost made you lose consciousness right there due to your neediness.
"Come on, love. Don't leave me hanging." Sam snapped you from your dream world. You obliged, taking out his growing friend and admiring the view, trying to surpress some moans before holding his length and stroaking it a few times with the precum that was already dripping from his tip.
It made him sigh in response, touching your hair and softly caressing it in the meanwhile. "That's it. Mh." He bit his lower lip while looking at your panting face. Colby, on the other hand, started sucking aggressively. Thrusting his tongue deep inside of you, touching as much as he could.
Moaning whilst savouring your taste, trying to memorize every single inch of you with his tongue. It made you moan in response, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Trying not to wait any longer, you put Sam's dick inside of your warm mouth. Sucking onto his tip, trying to regain a bit of the consciousness You've been seemingly getting away from.
Bobbing your head up and down his length, you couldn't help but moan around it, giving him vibrations that made him see the stars for a few seconds. He helped you out, pushing himself deeper inside of you, almost making you gag at how filled your mouth was.
A few tears falling from your eyes while the pleasure from both sides was noticeable. You could feel the quick knot on your stomach unravelling, making you unconsciously close your legs around Colby's face, only for him to slap your ass one more time, making you moan once again.
It didn't take long until you released yourself. Him, helping you ride out your orgasm while Sam started thrusting harder against your throat, releasing himself inside it. Pulling away, he smirked at the face you were making. He couldn't hold himself, switching you around so that you could look at Colby.
"Look at this pretty little face, so needy for us." Sam said, cleaning a bit of his cum that was dripping out of your mouth. You gulped it down while looking at Colby's smile. Before he could even respond, you all heard a beep.
It was a REM-POD.
"Almost forgot this was a haunted house." Colby chuckled and stood up. It seems he fisted himself whilst he was busy eating you up. "So, let's continue that video, shall we? We definitely gave the ghosts a show just now." He laughed and fixed himself. As you looked at him confused, Sam stood up and fixed his pants as well.
You were in disbelief. Were they really going to just continue on like that?
"I'm sorry, but... fuck the video." You said, trying to regain your breath before completely sitting down. "Come here and fuck me instead."
Needless to say, you guys weren't able to finish the video.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
sorry that it took me a while (i had writers block for a while) but i finally found a good concept to go with to make it more interesting! hope you like it!
reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated <3
~nikkõ
258 notes · View notes
linalaine · 6 months
Text
- Brother's Best friend ! -
Scaramouche x Reader Smut
THIS WAS INSPIRED BY SOMEONE BUT I CANT REMEMBER THE BLOG NAME 😞
also I was debating making this longer but I just ended up redoing it so lmk if I should make a longer version of this !
🪼🌸cw: afab reader, wall fucking, degradation, use of pussy/cunt.
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It was no secret you had the hots for your brothers best friend, Scaramouche. Hell, even your older brother knew! But it's not your fault your brother just had a hot best friend.
Scaramouches hair, his eyes, his voice, his style. Everything about him was so attractive. Even his snarky, condescending attitude at times, you can't help daydreaming and drooling over him whenever he comes over!
This is precisely why your older brother told you that his best friend is absolutely off limits to you. To not even look at him, or speak to him! He was off limits. Because you had the hots for him.
But that didn't mean that he didn't have the hots for you either.
Yes, everyone knew about your little crush on Scaramouche. Even Scara himself. The way you looked up at him with heart eyes, anyone could see. The way you would ask for his help for the most simple things when he came over, even if your brother was there too.
Now, Scara really did enjoy your brothers company! But he couldn't deny that you were also part of the reason why he came over so often. Just to see the way you run to the door excitingly to greet your brother and him. To see that look in your eye when you see him. To see the way you discreetly rub your thighs together and act all nervous when he knows damn well, all you want is to get in your brothers best friends' pants.
And he would happily oblige the next time he saw you. He was already planning.
So the next time Scaramouche did come over to your house with your brother, he simply ignored you. Only giving you a slight nod when you rushed to greet them. But that was the only acknowledgement you got.
Scara was planning on sleeping over with your brother to play video games all night. He knew exactly when to make his move. But that meant ignoring you first so your brother wouldn't get suspicious.
It killed him to see your disappointed face when he wouldn't talk to you! Watching as you left to go sulk in your room the rest of the night. But it's okay! He'd make sure to make up for it later tonight! <3
Which is exactly what he did. Once your brother put on his headset to play some game, Scara managed to sneak out of his room and beeline straight for your door! He knocked on it gently.
You peaked it open a little at first, before realizing it was him and opening it all the way.
"Scara! What is it? Do you-" You were suddenly caught off as he shoved his way into your room, shutting the door behind him and pinning you to the wall with his hand clamped over your mouth.
"Keep quiet, yeah? I managed to sneak away while your brother was distracted with his game so try not to alert him and be too loud, okay?"
Your cheeks went red but you nodded your head regardless. His hand was quickly replaced by his lips. Capturing yours in a deep, hungry kiss. He's been thinking about this all day long.
Scara pinned your hands to the door above your head with one hand, his other roaming your body, squeezing your ass. You had already become so desperate for him! Trying to push your lips against his harder.
He shoved his knee between your thighs, feeling your already wet cunt squish against it as you tried to grind into him, causing him to chuckle lowly.
"I knew you weren't as innocent as you tried to be. I could tell from the moment I saw you, you were nothing but a slut who practically begged to drool over my cock." Scara whispered in your ear before kissing your neck, down to your chest.
You whined softly at his words, still desperately trying to get more friction from his knee. He let go of your hands and quickly lifted your oversized pajama shirt over your head, exposing your breast to him.
"Didn't even wear a bra, fucking slut. You were waiting for this, weren't you?" You nodded your head vigoursly, leaning up to kiss him only for him to grab your chin tightly to keep you still while he took your nipple into his mouth.
You had to bit your lip to keep quiet. Scaras knee jerking up into your clothed pussy. He pulled away from your breast with a wet pop.
He hastily discarded his pants and boxers while you quickly kicked your panties off somewhere to the side. You didn't even have time to react when he spun you around! Your face and front pressed against the door while he kept his hands on your hips, rubbing his pre on your ass.
"Ready?" Scara asked softly into your ear, his tip teasing your entrance as you let out a small "mhm.."
That was all he needed before pushing into and bottoming out. You both let out a mix of moans and gasp. He gave you a moment to adjust to the feeling then started pulling out again until he was at the tip and roughly shoving back in all the way.
You could hear him groan behind you as he started fucking into you, his balls slapping against your ass. One of his hands snaked around you, shutting your mouth while the other was holding onto your wrist, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.
He was manhandling you. His best friends little sister. And it felt heavenly. Your moans muffled by his hand as your head squished up against the door. Your pussy was milking his cock for all its worth!
"Mm-Mmmph!~" You moaned out from behind his hand. His cock was dragging along your walls. It had you seeing stars. Scaras eyes were locked where his cock disappeared and reappeared from your little pussy.
"FUCK! You feel so fucking good, fuck.." He groaned, his head rolling back slightly. "Best fuucking pussy ever."
His cock twitched inside you. The harshness from his relentless pounding had your legs shaking. You were close and he could tell by the way your cunt went tight around his dick. He shoved his fingers into your mouth to silence you. You started sucking and swirling your tongue around them, choking like a good little whore!
Your orgasm was approaching quickly, leaving you trying to find something to stable yourself with. You clawed at the door, leaving marks behind like a feral cat as you completely crashed.
You came hard, tears blurring your eyes as you choked on Scaras fingers. He came soon after. The sight of you shaking from his cock was too much! With one harsh thrust and a loud smack of his pelvis hitting your ass, his warm seed flooded your pussy!
You moaned loudly again around his fingers as he filled you to the brim. Your body went limp after he pulled out, watching his cum drip from your abused hole and down your thighs.
He felt his cock grow harder again at the sight. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you flush against him. You felt his erection pressing against your ass again as you let out a soft whine. This was going to be a long night.
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