imaginationgonewild0912 - Tumblr blog

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Angel In the Infield - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw is a struggling first-baseman in the major leagues. He's had bad season after bad season, until he met you, his angel.

A/N: While I'm currently struggling with motivation to work on on Take One for the Team, please instead enjoy this baseball au fic I've done in the meantime! Also I started reading sports romance novels, pls send help half these men are baseball players with dark hair. Also if you like this concept/set up, I'm toying with the idea of making this a series of connected oneshots?

pairing: baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: baseball au, smut throughout, oral (both m + f receiving), praise, dirty talk, mentions of divorce, unfaithfulness (neither Bradley, nor reader), public sex.

word count: 3.7k

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted

The sun hung high on the horizon for a Saturday afternoon, radiating an unseasonable warmth as its rays beat down over the course. A gentle breeze made its way through the palm trees that stood tall outside of the stadium, causing large, deep green leaves to sway in its wake. A crowd of spectators sat on the bleachers that surrounded the diamond, a sea of faces filling the scenery, silently watching, sipping beers and eating hotdogs as they took in the spectacle before them. Media representatives dotted the balcony, press passes on display as they gawked at the game unfolding below. 

Bradley Bradshaw approached the plate, lining up to take his turn at bat. His bright white uniformed baseball shirt, emblazoned with the team logo across the front, his last name in bold, block lettering across the back of his broad shoulders, hugged at his sun kissed biceps as they flexed. One of his tattoos just barely visible from under the sleeve of the shirt.

 He took two practice swings, and once he was comfortable, lined up with the plate. He narrowed his eyes in focus as he looked to the pitcher, giving him the coldest stare down he could muster, his face fixed in a state of concentration. A year and a half ago, he would have begun trash-talking his opponent from the start, calling out that he’d seen his grandmother lob better pitches, and she’d been dead for 15 years. Instead, Bradley forced himself to behave, willing any inappropriate comments about Jake Seresin’s mother to himself, for now. 

He took a swing at the first pitch lobbed towards him with a loud grunt, biting his tongue as he held back a frustrated fuck from his lips as the ball sailed past him, landing in the catcher’s mitt with a thud. 

Strike one.

He caught your gaze in the sea of faces that were watching him expectantly, his lips curling up into a soft smile as he looked towards the family and friends boxes where you stood, waving subtly to him to gain his attention. He gave you a subtle nod of his head, symbolic of a thank you, for Bradley. 

In an instant, Bradley was back in the game, level-headed and laser focused, ready for the next pitch that was coming, as if seeing you had brought him back down to earth, willing him to focus his attention on something other than his once uncontrollable anger. 

He wasn’t often this soft. He never used to be. In fact, he was never considered to be a gentleman when he played any sport. He couldn’t lose graciously. It wasn’t in his nature. He was serious, determined and reserved, focused and dedicated, but even his best intended plans couldn’t withstand his explosive temper. It wasn’t that he wanted to be a walking stick of dynamite. 

He didn’t intend to fly off the handle at everyone around if he made a bad play or if someone commented on his skills not being on point the way they once were, but after nothing but criticism for the last four years of his career, Bradley thought his outbursts were justifiable. 

If he had to hear another comment about being “washed up” at thirty-one, he might snap again, unable to bite his tongue much longer. And if he had a bat in hand? He’d show whoever it was just how good his game still was. He knew his career didn’t have many years left in it, but he had just as much right as any other up and coming young asshole in the MLB to be here. But one bad year at twenty-seven had turned into two, which turned into three, which now crept up on reaching four. 

Admittedly, this year was turning out to be marginally better than the three previous - he didn’t know what to chalk it up to at first. 

Herefused to admit he could be in love. Love was never for him. At least, that’s what his ex-wife told him when she filed for divorce four years prior. He’d just been starting to make a name for himself as a promising first baseman when she served him the papers, leaving him with a burning desire to focus everything he had on the one thing that he thought couldn’t break him - baseball. That desperate need to be good at something, anything, drove him to the brink of insanity. He couldn’t control himself or his need to be the best in the only area he knew he could be anymore. 

However, that train of thought came to a screeching, grinding halt when he met you. 

As Bradley remained focused on his turn at bat, he took a swing at the second pitch sent his way, a fastball that, if he was a smart man, he would have let go, taking the ball instead of risking a strike at a pitch that far outside.

However, Bradley was not a smart man. Not when it came to his turns at bat.

Even he couldn’t hide his momentary shock as the ball made contact with the wooden bat in his hands with a crack. He started running towards first base, rounding it quickly before making the smarter decision to stay put, rather than aim for second. He looked towards where you were watching him from once again, smiling to himself as he watched you blow a kiss towards him. He couldn’t wait to finish this game and just hold you and kiss you. Watch you walk around the house with nothing but his baseball jersey on, just barely long enough on you to cover your private areas, giving him a little sneak peek as you bent over to unload the dishwasher, or reached up to grab a wine glass for yourself when you were ready to unwind for the evening. 

Those delicious thighs, soft and smooth as he ran his hands up and down them, the way you’d giggle and kick your legs playfully when he grasped at the back of them, even though he knew you were ticklish there. He didn’t give a rat’s ass though. He loved the way you laughed. He swore it was up there on the list of the most beautiful sounds in the world, along with the way you said his name right before you reached your orgasm, the way you’d call him ‘honey’ in passing and the sound of a World Series crowd chanting your number. 

Images of his hands lifting the back of that jersey up, shoving the excess material at the bottom out of his way as he pounded into you from behind flashed across his mind, the sounds of you whining out in pleasure as he relentlessly fucked into you, your pretty, pink folds glistening with arousal, letting him slide in and out of you with ease. The thought alone was almost enough to make him curse the athletic cup that was sitting in his baseball pants at the moment, making it increasingly uncomfortable to move as he felt himself hardening at the thought of you. 

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to take you in the hotel room later. 

As he rounded the bases to home after his teammate’s home run hit, his mind drifted to the thought of your teeth sinking into the tanned, taut skin of his shoulder as he made love to you in the California King Bed that awaited you both in the hotel suite after the game. Your fingers gripping his dark curly hair tightly, tangling into them and tugging as he licked and sucked on your neck, leaving a trail of purpling bite marks down you as he marked you as his own. Not that you protested - in fact, you encouraged it. 

As the game progressed, Bradley continued to think about the various ways he could make you his as soon as he got you alone. His mind raced as he thought of you again - in every way possible. He thought about your perfume, how it had some kind of hypnotic hold over him, leaving him momentarily dazed whenever he breathed in your scent. He thought about your smile, how you lit up the entire room when you beamed at him - how you were one of the only people to ever look at him like he meant everything in the world to you, and how you made him feel special and loved and wanted, for the first time in years. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt the way you made him feel. 

 His ex-wife had been cold and cut-off from him emotionally, physically. She was never satisfied just being with him. She resented that he couldn’t put all of his attention on her, 100% of the time, despite Bradley feeling like he tried his best to balance his career and home life as best as he could. When she had told him she was ready to have a baby, he’d been entirely on board - ready and willing to start a family. What he wasn’t prepared for, was walking in on her sleeping with a rookie from a rival team in the hotel room that Bradley had paid for. 

As he packed up his gear after the game, his team pulling ahead with a win thanks to a home run hit he scored in the 8th inning that shocked even him, he let out a deep, satisfied sigh. He had proved himself for another day, and he was proud of himself for it. He figured at this rate, if he kept it up, he could be discussing his comeback season with the press after another couple of games. The thought of being respected once again in the sport was electrifying, enough to send a shockwave pulsating through his veins as he switched out of his cleats and into his street shoes. 

He headed out of the locker room, his baseball bag slung over his shoulder and his cap turned backwards, with tufts of dark chestnut brown curls peaking out through the opening. He spotted you, wearing one of his spare jerseys unbuttoned with a short little black dress on underneath, with a pair of stark white running shoes. Your matching baseball cap was sported backwards, just like Bradley’s, a style he started adopting on your advice. You’d flipped his cap around one day during a playful round of sex in the backseat of his vintage Ford Bronco, telling him it looked so much hotter on him when he wore it so that you could still see his face. He took that advice to heart, and now, every chance he could, backwards is how it was. 

You happily skipped over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely as you peppered his lips with feather-light kisses. He laughed softly and shook his head when you finally pulled away, his cheeks burning into a rosy red tone as a slight wave of embarrassment washed over him. 

It wasn’t your kisses or affection that embarrassed him though. It was the fact that after 18 months of dating, he still wasn’t used to it. It was partially his own fault — his ex-wife had never been an affectionate lover, but even after that, he refused to actually be in a relationship with anyone. He enjoyed sex, and that was all he wanted. He wasn’t looking for his heart to be broken again, and it suited him just fine until you came along. 

He’d met you once in passing — he’d gotten himself embroiled in a bar brawl with some guy who’s mouth ran faster than the speed of light. Bradley’s nose had been broken and bloodied as a result, and you’d been leaving the bar with a handful of friends. You’d recognized Bradley as the guy who’d hit on you earlier in the night, and to your surprise, graciously accepted your rejection when you turned him down. When you saw him in this light though, drunk and vulnerable, you felt sorry for him. 

Taking a couple of tissues from your purse, you helped clean up his face as best as you could, sending your friends on their way without you as you took on this newfound role of nurse to him. With few other options to stop his nosebleed, you’d handed him a tampon from your purse. He laughed initially, in complete and total refusal to use it. You had gestured to his floral print white polo shirt, the collar now stained with drips of blood from his face. He huffed a sigh and followed your advice, grumbling as you insisted on making awkward small talk as you sat and waited with him to get checked out. 

That was the first time since his mother’s passing that anyone had ever shown Bradley an ounce of compassion when he was injured. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or not , but he could have sworn you were an angel with the way you smiled at him and how soothing he found your voice. 

Now, eighteen months later, standing here with your arms wrapped around him, his hands on your waist as you fussed over him and congratulated him on his performance in this afternoon’s game, he was sure. You were heaven sent.. In fact, it was what he called you — angel. He’d decided early on it was the perfect nickname for you, and as time went on, he only proved himself right. 

“Everyone’s left, right?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow at him as he snapped back to reality, shooting a quick glance behind his shoulder.

“Mhmm. I was the last one out of the showers. Looks like it’s just us left here.”

“Perfect. I have a little something for you.”

“Do you?” He inquired, eyebrows raised as he smirked, a million ideas running through his head at what his surprise could be. 

Together, you walked back towards the now deserted dugout, the ballpark that was roaring with excitement an hour ago was now silent, deserted by players and fans alike. You grinned as you turned around to face Bradley, dropping down to your knees in front of him, gazing up at him with a doe-eyed stare that was almost enough to make him groan out in pleasure.

“Wh-you mean, this is my surprise? You’re gonna suck my dick in the dugout, angel?”

“I know you’ve always wanted me to. And you played so good today, honey. How could I say no?” You purred as you undid the belt holding his pants in place. 

He dropped his baseball pants down to his ankles, and before his hands could remove the tight fitting boxer briefs he’d changed into post-game, your mouth was pressed against the tightening bulge, pressing warm kisses to it in a way that made Bradley’s mind foggy. He couldn’t think straight and he wasn’t even in your mouth yet. 

Fuck.

He knew he wouldn’t last long if this was how worked up he was feeling at your mouth touching him. As you tugged his boxers down, peeling them off his thighs to free his cock. A white bead of pre-cum pearled on his tip, leading Bradley to elicit a pornographic moan as your thumb swiped across it, whisking the liquid away before you began pumping your hand up and down his shaft. You tauntingly flicked your tongue out over the tip of his erection, encircling the red, throbbing head with a trail of saliva before licking a strip along the underside to his balls. Bradley shuddered as he felt you continue to lick up and down his length, your hand pumping him tightly when you alternated and pressed your lips to the tip. 

After what felt to Bradley like an eternity, you took his tip past your parted lips, hollowing your cheeks as you began to suck on his cock like it was some kind of refreshing summer treat. As you took him further back in your mouth, your saliva began to pool around his shaft, dribbling out down his length as you tried to take more of him into you. He grunted your name as he gathered your hair in his hand, gripping tightly as he thrusted his hips forward into your mouth. 

You gagged as you felt his tip brush the back of your throat, causing more of your spit to soak his cock, your hand using it as lubrication as you continued to pump on whatever didn’t fit past your lips. Bradley began panting, gasping and singing your praises as he fucked your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered as you shut them for a quick moment to concentrate yourself on your technique until you felt a hand gently squeezing your cheeks, making your mouth seemingly tighten harder around Bradley.

“Nuh, uh, beautiful. Eyes on me,” he directed. 

You gazed up at him with that same doe-eyed stare again, batting your lashes as you watched his facial expression, his eyes shutting as he enjoyed the feel of your mouth as it sucked and licked at his cock, working him into his orgasm.

“Shit, angel, ‘m’not gonna last,” Bradley panted, deep chocolate brown eyes fixated on you as he watched you pull your mouth back from him almost entirely before thrusting yourself fully into him. 

His lids shut again as he drew his head back, saying your name as if it was a hymn he was singing. He let out a deep, throaty grunt as he shot hot, white ropes of his cum down your throat. Your eyes never left his as you swallowed hard, making sure that he could see you as you did it before pulling yourself back off his cock. Pulling yourself to your feet, you wiped the saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning proudly at the mess you’d made out of Bradley.

His eyes deepened with a burning, lustful hunger for you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, picking you up off your feet and grinning. 

“I gotta return the favour, now, angel. You know the rules. You wear a pretty little skirt like that, and I just have to eat that pussy of yours.” He said matter-of-factly as he pulled his bottoms back up, chuckling to himself as he tightened his belt back up. “Bet you did it on purpose, didn’t you, honey? Knew I wouldn’t be able to resist eating that perfect little cunt of yours if you wore something like this?”

“I may have been thinking something along those lines,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders as he laid you down on the bench. 

He straddled the bench in front of your legs and tutted his tongue at you, giving you a head shake of disapproval before raising an eyebrow at you.

“Angel, come on, spread those pretty thighs of yours nice and wide for me. Throw your legs over my shoulders if you have to.” 

You obeyed his command, biting down on your lip as you fought back a grin, draping your legs over his broad shoulders as he slipped between them, his mouth hovering just over your folds. He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, nipping at the sensitive skin with his teeth. You let out a soft yelp of pleasure, feeling your body writhe at the mere suggestion of Bradley’s mouth down there on you.

“Look at you,” Bradley purred as he spread your folds apart with two thick fingers. “So pretty and wet for me already? Sucking my cock got you all worked up like this?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to concentrate your thoughts into a sentence. 

“C’mon, honey, use your words for me. Wanna hear you say it,” Bradley said as he flicked his tongue out, swiping it across your swollen, sensitive clit. 

“Bradley,” you whined as you arched your back at the slow, sensual teasing, “You know exactly why I’m like this already.”

“Mhmm, my perfect angel,” he cooed as he licked at your folds again, gathering your arousal on his tongue. 

As Bradley’s tongue ravaged you, eating you out like a man starved on a desert island for the last few months, your heart began to race, a burning desire brewing in the pit of your stomach. While Bradley’s tongue lapped at your arousal, he delved two thick fingers into your pulsating core, pumping them into your g-spot. You could picture him grinning to himself as he heard your needy, whiny moans, panting his name as if it was the only word you were able to say anymore. That was just how he liked it though - making it so he was the only thing on your mind. He prided himself on it.

Your thighs began to shake as he dug the fingers of his free hand into your flesh, holding you in place. He pulled his mouth away from you for a moment with a loud suck. You whimpered at the loss of contact, looking down at him from beneath hooded lids as he continued to fuck his fingers deeper into you. 

“That’s it, angel. I played my best for you today, wanted to do right, earn this pretty little pussy of yours. Make it mine,” he husked. 

Your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers as he spoke, the words alone enough to send you over the edge. He pressed his lips to your clit once again, giving it a long, tantalizing suck as he drew your orgasm out of you. Instead of his name, this time all you could get out of your mouth was a breathless, blissed out moan, unable to formulate words as your brain fogged. Bradley continued to praise you, coaching you through your climax like a personal trainer coaching you through a workout. 

He drew his hand up to his mouth, sucking on his fingers until they were clean, his wide tongue pressing flat against them before pulling them out of his mouth with a loud pop. You blinked twice at him, still dazed from your orgasm as he pulled your underwear back up your legs. 

“You ok, angel?” Bradley grinned as he tapped your thigh gently with his hand to try and bring you back to reality. Your blissfully fucked out stare was all he needed, a soft smile on your face as you tried to regain your composure. 

“We’re just getting started, baby. I’ve got 48 hours with you before my next game, I’m making each one of those hours count.” 

[imaginationgonewild0912]

The Stakeout: Day 3 || Steve Rogers x Agent!FReader.

Day One | Two | Four Words: 4.2K Themes/Warnings: Unspoken feelings towards each other. Growing tension. Sexual Attraction. Eventual Smut. Being stuck with each other. Summary: You came too close from being compromised by the enemy target and the first idea you could think of was to K-I-S-S Steve. A/N: Ayo . . . We getting close lmfao.

Tags: @lafrone @moviegurl2002 @haruvalentine4321 @blankmoniker

You slept really well. Last night's sleep was different from the cold, restless nights you’ve been enduring—it’s a comforting warmth, the kind that makes you want to stay curled up in bed for just a little longer.

Your eyes flutter open, and it takes you a moment to realize that you’re still cuddling against Steve. At some point during the night, you must have shifted closer, because your head is now resting on his chest, your arm draped across his stomach. His arm is around you, holding you close, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Hm, this is nice.

For a few heartbeats, you just lie there, your mind still groggy from sleep, trying to process the situation. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. It’s nice. Comforting. But as the haze of sleep begins to lift, the realization of just how close you are—how tangled up you’ve become—hits you like a bucket of cold water.

Your eyes snap open fully, and you quickly lift your head, your heart skipping a beat as you realize just how intimately you’re pressed against him. Steve’s eyes flutter open at the sudden movement, for a split second, the two of you just stare at each other, wide-eyed and too stunned to move.

Then, in an unspoken agreement, you both scramble to disentangle yourselves, practically leaping out of bed in your haste to put some distance between you.

“Uh, morning,” Steve mumbles, his voice hoarse from sleep, running a hand through his cow-licked hair. He’s clearly flustered, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink that you’ve never seen before.

“Morning,” you reply, your voice a little too high-pitched as you quickly busy yourself with anything that will distract you from the awkwardness of the situation. 

You smooth down your pajamas, tugging at the hem of your tank, anything to avoid looking at him. The silence that follows is deafening. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him moving around the small apartment, his movements a little too purposeful, as if he’s trying just as hard as you are to pretend that nothing unusual happened. He grabs his coffee mug, but his hands are a bit too shaky, and he nearly spills it as he pours himself a cup.

You decide to follow his lead, grabbing your own mug and pouring yourself some coffee. The routine of it, the familiar motions, help to steady your nerves, but you can still feel the aftershocks of that moment in bed, the way your heart refuses to calm down.

“So,” Steve begins awkwardly, clearing his throat as he finally glances in your direction, though he quickly looks away. “We should probably check in with Fury?” 

You latch onto the change in subject with relief, eager to focus on something—anything—other than the fact that you woke up in his arms. 

“Yeah,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “He probably needs to know the report for yesterday.”

Steve nods, still avoiding your gaze as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, that’s… that’s what I was thinking too.”

There’s a brief, awkward silence where you both just stand there, holding your mugs like they’re shields against the morning’s awkwardness.

“So, um…” You gesture vaguely with your mug, trying to find something to say that isn’t related to the fact that you woke up in his arms. “I’ll… get dressed?”

“Right, yeah,” Steve says quickly, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “Good idea. I’ll, uh… I’ll do that too. I mean, not with you. Separately. I’ll get dressed separately. In another room. You know what, I'll just turn around.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he sounds. “Steve—”

But he’s already turning his back to you, his posture stiff with awkwardness. “No, no, I’ll just… I’ll give you some privacy.”

You roll your eyes playfully as you reach for your clothes. “You’re a real gentleman, Rogers. Not even gonna sneak a peek?”

Steve nearly chokes on his coffee, his face turning a deeper shade of pink. “I—uh—no! Of course not!”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you. You can turn back around once I’m dressed.” You grin, enjoying how easy it is to fluster him.

“Right, yeah. I’ll just… stare at the wall,” he mutters, clearly trying to regain his composure.

As you change into your clothes, you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at the absurdity of the situation. Here you are, two highly trained professionals, acting like awkward teenagers. It’s almost endearing.

Finally, you finish getting dressed and clear your throat. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

Steve turns back around, looking relieved that the ordeal is over. “Great. I’ll, uh… get ready too.”

You nod, giving him a little more space as he quickly grabs his clothes and starts to change. This time, you’re the one turning away, focusing intently on your coffee as you try not to think about how nice it would be to wake up like that every day.

“So,” Steve says again as he pulls on his shirt, “about checking in with Fury…”

“Yeah, we’ll do that after we… you know, finish getting ready,” you reply, trying to sound casual.

“Right,” he agrees, but then hesitates. “And, uh… about this morning… I just want to say…”

You brace yourself, expecting another round of awkward apologies, but instead, he surprises you.

“It was nice,” he says softly, his voice sincere. “Waking up like that. I mean, not that I—well, you know what I mean.”

You’re caught off guard by his honesty, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. But then you smile, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the coffee.

“Yeah, it was,” you mumble, your tone softening. “It was… nice.”

× × × ×

After a quick meal, you found yourselves back at your posts, watching the building across the street with the same careful attention you’d maintained the past few days. The day was quiet, the hours dragging by with little to show for it, and you were starting to think that today would be just as uneventful as the days before.

But then, just after lunch, something changed.You spotted movement in one of the windows of the building you were surveilling. It was subtle, just a shadow passing by, but it was enough to put you both on high alert.

“Did you see that?” you whispered, leaning slightly closer to Steve as you strained to get a better look.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice low, tense. “Something's about to happen.”

The two of you watched in silence as the door of the building opened, and a man stepped out. He looked around suspiciously, clearly on edge, and you felt your heart rate pick up. This could be it—the moment you’d been waiting for.

But as the man lingered in the doorway, his gaze sweeping the street, you realized something: he was waiting for something—or someone. You exchanged a quick glance with Steve, your stomach twisting with unease. If he saw you, if he realized you were watching, the entire mission could be compromised.

“We need to stay low,” Steve muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “If he sees us—”

But it was too late. As if sensing your presence, the man’s eyes suddenly snapped to the window where you and Steve were hiding. His gaze zeroed in on you, his expression darkening with suspicion. Your heart stopped, your breath caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him, knowing that you had only seconds to act.

“Kiss me.” You blurted out.

“What?” Steve almost snapped his neck turning his attention towards you.

Panic surged through you, and without thinking, you reached out, grabbing Steve’s shirt and pulling him close. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t resist. You had to do something—anything—to divert the man’s attention before he realized what you were really doing.

Acting purely on instinct, you tugged Steve down toward you, pressing your lips to his in a sudden, desperate kiss.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as your lips met his. The tension, the panic, everything melted away, leaving only the heat of the kiss, the way Steve’s body pressed against yours, the way his hand instinctively cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer.

The kiss was meant to be a cover, a way to make the man think you were just a couple stealing a private moment. But it quickly escalated to something deeper.

Steve’s initial shock gave way to a response that sent a shiver down your spine. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that took your breath away, his other arm slipping around your waist to pull you flush against him.

For a moment, you forgot where you were, why you were doing this. All you could think about was the way Steve was kissing you, the way he was holding you, like he never wanted to let go.

Reality crashed back in. You forced yourself to pull back, your breath coming in short, shaky gasps as you broke the kiss. Steve’s eyes were dark, intense, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared at you.

But there was no time to dwell on it. You quickly glanced over Steve’s shoulder, your heart pounding as you checked to see if the man was still watching.

He was.

The man’s eyes were locked on the two of you, his expression still suspicious, but now there was something else in his gaze—something calculating. You could see him weighing his options, trying to decide if what he saw was genuine or a ruse.

“We have to sell it,” you whispered urgently, your voice trembling slightly.

Steve’s eyes flicked to the window, understanding immediately. Without hesitation, his hand buried itself in your hair and tilted your head back, taking your lips, his tongue slid silkily within the warmth of yours. 

Your hands find themselves on the back of his neck, and a moan vibrates low in your throat as his tongue invades your mouth, his taste unfamiliar and darkly seductive at the same time. This kiss was slower, more deliberate, really trying to convince the man watching that this was real—that you were just a couple, too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else.

You tried not to get in too deep, but it was nearly impossible when Steve was kissing you like this. He groans, his hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. A soft gasp escaped you and Steve used the opportunity to deepen his kiss. You feel the growing tension in his powerful body. His breathing speeds up, and his kiss turns hard, devouring, making your body throb in response. Your hips began to grind on his still covered cock, instinctively, while pressing himself against you, gripping your hip.

You risked another glance out of the corner of your eye. You tried to turn your head, but Steve claimed your mouth again. You couldn’t prevent the low moan of pleasure that escaped you as he continued to escalate. Your body begins to pulse in anticipation, your nipples tightening under the fabric of your shirt. 

The man was still there, but his suspicion seemed to be wavering. He hesitated, his gaze narrowing as he watched you both, but then he shook his head slightly, as if dismissing the idea that you were anything other than what you appeared to be. He turned and walked away, disappearing back into the building.

× × × × 

STEVE’S POV

Shit.

Her touch is strangely innocent and uncertain. I can taste her, feel her, and the urge to fuck her is so strong I shudder with it. I know I should stop, push her away, but I can’t. Her kiss is the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt. When I think I can’t bear much more, her hot little mouth moves to my jaw and then trails down my neck, kissing and nibbling with the same torturous gentleness. Her hands release my face and slide down my body, her fingers closing around the bottom edge of my shirt.

She begins to lift my shirt, and I groan as her knuckles brush against my naked sides, her touch leaving my skin burning in its wake. 

“Y/N . . .” I suck in my breath as she scoots down and kneels between my spread legs, her face at the level of my navel. “Y/N, you need to stop teasing me.” 

She ignores my directive, keeping my shirt bunched up. 

“Who’s teasing?” she whispers, looking up at me. And before I can respond, she leans in and places a warm, damp kiss on my stomach. 

Fuck. 

My entire body jerks, my balls tightening on a savage surge of lust. The sight of her kneeling there pushes my buttons in all the wrong ways, calling to my darkest desires. My hands knot into fists, and I take short, deep breaths, reminding myself that we're working right now. We need to be on high alert.

Except she’s licking my stomach now. Fucking licking it. Tracing each muscle indentation with her tongue, like she’s trying to imprint it on her memory. 

“Y/N.” My voice is hoarse. “That’s enough. He's gone.” 

She pulls back, looking up at me through those long, thick lashes of hers, “Are you sure?” she murmurs, still not letting go of my shirt. “Because I think I want more.” 

And leaning in again, she scrapes her teeth over my lower abs, then sucks on the spot, her mouth hot and wet on my bare skin. Skin that’s right next to the throbbing cock still confined in my pants. 

I see Y/N smile deepen as her eyes flick to the bulge in my jeans. The little witch knows exactly what she’s doing to me, what kind of effect she’s having on my body.

Fucking hell.

“Y/N . . .” I can barely form the words, my fingers digging into the window sill in an effort not to grab her. She release my shirt and fiddles with my belt buckle instead—

Bee-Beep. Bee-Beep

The beeping of the satellite phone was like a force that drove me back to reality, shattering the charged atmosphere that had wrapped around us. My mind was still clouded with the intense desire Y/N had stirred in me, but I forced myself to focus, to shove it all aside. I nearly tripped over my own feet as I scrambled for the phone, my heart hammering in my chest.

I clicked the button, bringing the phone to my ear, my breath still coming too fast. “Hello… Fury, yes,” I managed, my voice rough with the remnants of lust that hadn’t fully faded. 

As I spoke, I shot a glance at Y/N, who had moved to lean against the window, her arms crossed and her gaze avoiding mine. The tension between us was still thick, lingering in the air, but it was cut by the sharp edge of Fury’s voice on the other end of the line.

Fury didn’t waste any time. “Rogers, we’ve got a situation. A high-priority operative is heading your way. I’m sending you the details now. Be prepared to change your plans at a moment’s notice.”

Fury’s tone was sharp, no room for error. “And Rogers… don’t let your guard down. This guy is dangerous. Expect the unexpected.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, the line going dead a second later. I lowered the phone, my mind racing to process everything at once. The surge of desire, the need for control, the impending threat—everything was clashing inside me. I turned back to Y/N, who was still watching me, with an unreadable expression.

× × × ×

Your POV

Steve hastily ran towards the phone, almost tripping over his feet as he tried to reach for it just in time. He clicks the button and picks up, “Hello. . . Fury, yes.” Steve gives you a stern glance as you stood up and leaned on the window with your arms now crossed

“Yes, sir.” Steve replied to the phone firmly before hanging up the phone. Steve sighed and tossed the phone on the table. 

The silence that followed was painful, punctuated only by the sound of Steve’s pacing as he moved back and forth across the small room. The shift in his demeanor was jarring—gone was the man who had been just moments away from losing control with you, replaced by the disciplined soldier, all focus and intense. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the both of you, extinguishing the heat of the moment.

Your arms crossed tighter over your chest as you leaned against the window, your mind racing with regret and confusion. What the hell was I thinking? The question echoed in your mind, over and over again, with no clear answer. 

The desire that had driven you to push him that far, to test the boundaries of your partnership, now seemed reckless, foolish even. You could barely stand to look at Steve, not with the way he was pacing, his mind clearly focused on the mission and nothing else.

He stopped suddenly, his hand still on his hip, and let out a long sigh. He turned to you, the sternness was still there, and you braced yourself for whatever he was going to say.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low but firm, “we need to talk about what just happened.”

You bit your lip, not sure if you were ready for this conversation, but knowing you couldn’t avoid it. 

“I know,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “I… I’m sorry, Steve. That was out of line. I don’t know what came over me.”

Steve shook his head, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “Don’t apologize. I’m just as responsible for what happened. But I need to be clear about something—this mission, our focus, it can’t be compromised. Not by anything, even… this.”

“I know. You’re right. I lost sight of that for a moment, but it won’t happen again.” You nodded, your throat tight as you struggled to find the right words. 

He studied you for a long moment, his expression softening just slightly, as if he could see the turmoil you were feeling. “We’re both under a lot of pressure, and things like this… they happen. We can’t afford any distractions alright?”

“I understand,” you said, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ll stay focused. I won’t let this interfere with the mission.”

He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself. “Once this is over, we’ll figure out what to do about… us. But for now, we have to push it aside.”

“Okay,” you agreed, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. “We’ll deal with it later.”

He gave you a small, tight-lipped smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Right. Now, let’s get back to work.”

The room fell into silence again, but this time it was different. The weight of what had happened, and what had almost happened, lingered in the air between you. 

As Steve turned back to the table, gathering his gear, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. You wanted to reach out, to say something, anything that might ease the tension between you, but the words wouldn’t come.

So instead, you followed his lead, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. The mission was all that mattered now. Everything else would have to wait. But deep down, you knew that once this was all over, there would be no going back to the way things were. The line had been crossed, and nothing would ever be the same.

× × × ×

The night dragged on, the silence between you and Steve almost as heavy as the darkness that filled the room. After Fury’s call, you both took up positions by the window, watching the building next door with unwavering focus. But as the hours ticked by with no sign of movement, the tension began to ease, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.

It was now 3 a.m., and nothing had happened. Not even the slightest flicker of light or shadow from the target’s location. The adrenaline that had kept you alert earlier in the night had long since faded, leaving you fighting to keep your eyes open. You shifted slightly, trying to push away the fatigue that was pulling you under, but it was no use. You tried to stay alert, tried to keep your eyes open and your focus on the mission, but your body had other plans. You found yourself nodding off, your head dipping lower each time, only to snap back up as you jolted awake, determined not to let sleep overtake you.

But the battle was futile. Each time your eyes closed, they stayed shut a little longer. The room around you blurred into shadows, and before you knew it, your head rested against the back of the chair, and you were drifting off completely.

STEVE'S POV

I watched as Y/N finally gave in to sleep, her head resting against the back of the chair, her breathing becoming slow and even. She’d fought so hard to stay awake, to keep watch alongside me, but it was clear she couldn’t hold out any longer. The day had taken its toll on both of us, but I couldn’t help feeling a surge of protectiveness as I watched her sleep.

I knew she couldn’t stay like this—curled up in an uncomfortable chair, vulnerable to the aches and stiffness that would come when she woke. She needed proper rest, especially with what might lie ahead. Quietly, I stood from my own chair, moving toward her with careful, measured steps.

As I reached her, I hesitated for just a moment, taking in the sight of her peaceful face. Then, gently, I slipped one arm under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her with ease. She stirred slightly as I cradled her against my chest, but she didn’t wake. The trust she had in me, even unconsciously, made something tighten in my chest, but I pushed the feeling aside. There would be time to sort through all of that later.

I reached the bed and slowly lowered her onto it, my movements gentle, careful not to wake her. As I laid her down, she instinctively curled into the blanket, her hand clutching the edge as she settled into the softness. But before I could step back, something held me there, something that made it impossible to look away.

For a long moment, I just stood there, staring down at her. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, the usual tension and guardedness gone from her features. The way her lashes rested softly against her cheeks, the slight parting of her lips as she breathed, the delicate curve of her neck—it all captivated me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

And then, without thinking, I reached out, my fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. The touch was light, barely there, but it sent a shiver down my spine. My hand lingered, hovering just above her skin, as if part of me was afraid to break the spell of the moment.

God, she was beautiful. Not just in the way she looked, but in everything she was—strong, determined, fiercely loyal. She had this fire inside her that drew me in, made it impossible for me to stay away, even when I knew I should. And now, seeing her like this, so calm and serene, it hit me just how deeply I cared for her.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the emotions I’d been trying to suppress rising to the surface. The urge to lean down, to press a soft kiss to her forehead, to her lips, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, knowing that this wasn’t the time. It wasn’t fair to her, to us, to act on these feelings when so much was at stake.

But standing there, looking down at her, it was impossible not to imagine a different world—one where we weren’t in the middle of a mission, where the dangers weren’t so immediate, where we could be together without fear or hesitation. A world where I could tell her everything that was in my heart, where I could love her the way she deserved to be loved.

The intensity of those thoughts made my breath catch, and I had to force myself to step back, to break the connection. But before I did, I let my fingers trace lightly across her temple, down to her jaw, memorizing the feel of her skin beneath my touch.

“Y/N…” I whispered, so softly that the words barely escaped my lips. But the sound, the feeling, hung in the air between us, charged with all the things I couldn’t say out loud.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, a small sigh escaping her lips, and I froze, watching her settle back into peaceful slumber. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection.

Finally, I forced myself to turn away, every step back to the window feeling heavier than the last. I took my seat, resuming my watch, but my mind was far from clear. The image of her sleeping face, the way she looked so content and beautiful, was burned into my mind.

I was in love with her—completely, irrevocably—and there was no going back from that.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

The Stakeout: Day 2 || Steve Rogers x Agent!FReader.

Day One | Day Three

Words: 8.2K Themes/Warnings: Steve checking you out non-stop. Unspoken feelings towards each other. Growing tension. Sexual Attraction. Eventual Smut. Being stuck with each other. Summary: Your touch is light, barely there, but it sends a shockwave through him. He freezes, his breath catching as you traces a slow, lazy line down the front of his shirt, your eyes never leaving his. There’s a playful challenge in your gaze, like you're daring him to react, to give in to the tension that’s been building between you.

Night has fallen, casting long shadows across the grimy streets as you and Steve sit across from each other in the dimly lit apartment.

You’re dressed in black, your face partially covered by a mask, ready for the mission ahead. Steve’s expression is serious, his blue eyes sharp as they skim over the map laid out on the rickety table.

“We got orders to plant bugs in the building across the street,” Steve begins, “You’ll handle the lower floors, I’ll take the upper ones. We need to aim to be in and out in under fifteen minutes.”

You nod, the plan clear in your mind, but it’s hard to ignore the way your pulse quickens when he looks at you.

“Got it, Captain,” you reply, trying to keep your voice light. “You know, I’ve always loved a good stealth mission. Nothing like risking life and limb in the dead of night.”

Steve’s lips twitch into a faint smile, but he’s already moving, checking his gear. “Just stay sharp.”

“Always do,” you mutter under your breath, following him out the door.

The streets are deserted as you approach the target building, the only sounds the distant hum of the city and the soft crunch of gravel under your boots. The night air is cool, but it does nothing to quell the restless energy buzzing under your skin. You can’t help but steal glances at Steve as you move—he’s so composed, so controlled. It’s infuriating how he can make everything look so easy, even when you know it’s not.

When you reach the building, Steve signals for you to stop. You crouch beside him, your shoulders brushing as you wait for his command. 

“Ready?” Steve whispers, his voice low and steady.

You nod, the seriousness of the mission settling over you like a weight. Steve gives a quick nod in return, then signals for you to move. You both slip into the building through a side entrance, the door creaking softly as it closes behind you.

Inside, the building is dimly lit, shadows clinging to the corners. You and Steve split up as planned, your footsteps nearly silent on the worn carpet as you head for the lower floors. Every instinct tells you to stay alert, but it’s hard to shake the lingering thoughts of last night—the way Steve’s presence felt so close, so overwhelming.

“Focus, Y/N,” you whisper-sang to yourself, shaking off the distraction as you plant the first bug. “This isn’t the time to be daydreaming.”

As you move through the building, planting bugs with ease, you can’t help but let your mind wander. It’s always been this way with Steve—this push and pull between professionalism. You’ve always prided yourself on keeping things light, using humor to deflect, but lately, it’s been harder to keep that distance.

As you finish planting the last bug, a sudden sound makes you freeze. Footsteps—coming from above. Your heart skips a beat as you listen, trying to determine where they’re coming from. They’re too close for comfort, and you quickly slip into a nearby alcove, pressing yourself against the wall.

Just as the footsteps draw nearer, you feel a hand close around your wrist, pulling you further into the shadows. You nearly gasp, but you recognize the grip, the presence. 

It’s Steve. 

He pulls you close, his body pressing against yours to shield you as the footsteps echo past the alcove, the shadows hiding you both from sight. The space is tight, forcing you to be impossibly close. Steve’s broad frame hides you completely, his chest rising and falling just inches from your own. 

You pay attention to his warmth, the strength in the arms that cage you in, protecting you from the unknown threat just beyond the alcove. Your pulse quickens, not just from the danger, but from the way his body feels against yours.

You try to keep your breathing steady, focusing on the situation, but it’s almost impossible when you can feel every breath he takes, when the scent of his cologne fills your senses. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can hear it, you’re pretty sure he can hear it too.

His eyes dart down to meet yours, and in the dim light, he studies your features up close—closer than he’s ever allowed himself to before. The curve of your lips behind the mask, the way your eyelashes brush against it as you blink, the subtle flush on your skin from the adrenaline—it all captivates him in a way he didn’t expect.

“Stay still,” he whispers his voice an octave deeper, so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

You nod, swallowing hard as you force yourself to stop daydreaming about him. 

“What?” You whispered, feeling the weight of his stare.

“Shhhh.”

Steve continues to study your face, memorizing every detail in the dim light. He knows he needs to move, to shift away before the moment becomes too charged, but for just a few more seconds, he allows himself this small indulgence—this brief moment of letting his guard down in your presence.

The footsteps grow fainter, the danger passing, but Steve doesn’t move right away. He stays close. You’re too focused on keeping your breathing steady to notice the way his gaze softens.

Finally, Steve pulls back just enough to give you space, though the tension remains thick and heavy. He clears his throat, forcing himself to focus. 

“That was close,” he murmurs, his voice steadier now, though there’s a lingering softness in his tone.

“Who? us or the enemy?” you whisper back, your voice barely audible as you try to regain your composure. Your heart is still racing, but you chalk it up to the near-miss, to the adrenaline of the mission.

Steve huffs, “You know what I mean.”

Just as you’re about to make your way back to the exit, the sound of more footsteps stops you in your tracks. These are heavier, more deliberate, and they’re getting closer. You and Steve exchange a glance, the same realization hitting you both at the same time: you’ve been compromised.

“Run,” Steve says, his voice low but firm. There’s no hesitation, no time for anything but action.

You take off, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallways as you race for the nearest exit. The sound of pursuit is right behind you, the men who’ve been tailing you now closing in. Your heart pounds in your chest, adrenaline surges through your veins as you push yourself to move faster and try to avoid bullets as they fire away aimlessly.

“Stay close!” Steve shouts over his shoulder, leading the way down a twisting corridor. You follow without question, your mind racing as you try to anticipate your next move.

The hallways seem to stretch on forever, every turn leading to another identical passageway. You’re not sure how long you’ve been running, but you can feel the burn in your legs, the sting of sweat in your eyes. The footsteps behind you are relentless, growing louder with every second.

Finally, Steve skids to a stop in front of a heavy door, pushing it open with a grunt of effort.  

“In here!”

You dive through the door, Steve right behind you, and he slams it shut just as the men round the corner. The door shudders under the impact as they try to force it open, but it holds—for now.

You and Steve find yourselves in what looks like a storage room, shelves lined with dusty boxes and old equipment. The only light comes from a single flickering bulb overhead, casting long shadows across the floor.

“This way,” Steve says, nodding towards a narrow staircase in the corner. “It should lead to the roof.”

You nod, following him up the stairs as quickly as your tired legs will carry you. The staircase is steep, the steps creaking ominously under your weight, but you don’t stop, even as your breath comes in ragged gasps.

At the top, you burst out onto the roof, the cool night air hitting you like a slap in the face. The city sprawls out below you, the streets quiet and still, but you know it won’t be long before the men catch up.

“Over here!” Steve calls, leading you to the edge of the roof. You follow him, your heart pounding in your chest as you look down at the alleyway below. The drop is steep, the kind that makes your stomach lurch, but there’s no time to hesitate.

“We need to jump,” Steve says, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. He glances at you, his blue eyes filled with determination. “I’ll go first. You follow right after. Don’t wait.”

You nod, swallowing your fear. “Right behind you.”

Without another word, Steve takes a few steps back, then runs toward the edge, leaping off the roof with the kind of grace only he could manage. For a split second, you watch him sail through the air before landing on the roof of the next building, rolling to absorb the impact. He’s up quickly, turning to face you, motioning for you to follow.

You take a deep breath, backing up to get a running start. The rooftop blurs as you push off, launching yourself into the air. For a heart-stopping moment, you’re weightless, suspended between two buildings with nothing but the hard pavement far below. Then, with a jarring thud, you land on the other side, your knees buckling slightly as you hit the ground. Steve’s hand is there to catch you before you can stumble.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice filled with concern, though there’s no time to linger on it.

You nod quickly, trying to catch your breath. “Yeah… but seriously, Steve,” you gasp, leaning against the wall of the rooftop for support, “do you ever just... slow down? It’s like trying to keep up with a human freight train.”

Steve chuckles softly, the tension easing just a fraction. “Sorry, I’m used to running at a different pace.”

You shake your head, still panting. “Yeah, well, next time, maybe give the rest of us mere normal person a heads up before you go full throttle.”

He smirks, but the levity is short-lived as the sound of boots pounding against the rooftop behind you snaps you both back to reality. The men are right on your tail, and you need to keep moving.

Steve grabs your hand, pulling you across the roof toward a fire escape on the far side. The two of you race down the metal stairs, your feet clanging loudly against the steps as you descend. The sound is deafening in the stillness of the night, but you don’t have the luxury of stealth anymore.

By the time you reach the alleyway below, your legs are burning, and your lungs feel like they’re on fire. But you keep moving, Steve’s hand still gripping yours as he leads you through the narrow streets. The city is eerily quiet, the shadows deep and menacing under the dim streetlights.

“Almost there,” Steve mutters, more to himself than to you.

You don’t know where he’s leading you, but you trust him. You’ve always trusted him. Even now, with your heart pounding and your mind racing, you know he’ll get you out of this.

As you round a corner, Steve suddenly pulls you into a small alleyway, pressing you against the wall as he checks the street ahead. His body is close, too close—again—and for a moment, you ask the gods what acts of kindness have you done to deserve this as a prize?

“Focus,” you silently remind yourself, forcing your thoughts back to the mission, back to the danger that’s still looming over you.

But it’s hard—so damn hard—when Steve is this close, when every nerve in your body is hyper-aware of his presence. The tension between you is electric, charged with everything you’ve been trying so hard to ignore.

Steve peeks out from the alcove, scanning the area for any sign of your pursuers. When he’s satisfied that the coast is clear, he turns back to you, his expression softening for just a moment. 

“We’re almost there. Just a little further.”

You nod, your voice caught in your throat. Steve’s gaze lingers on you for a beat longer, as if he wants to say something, but then he pulls away, the moment gone as quickly as it came.

He leads you through a series of twists and turns, until finally, you reach what looks like an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. Steve pulls open a rusted door, motioning for you to go inside. You slip in, the darkness swallowing you up as Steve follows, closing the door behind him.

Inside, the warehouse is cold and musty, the air thick with dust. It’s a far cry from the safe house you were expecting, but right now, it feels like a sanctuary. You both take a moment to catch your breath, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“God, Steve,” you pant, leaning over with your hands on your knees, trying to suck in as much air as possible. “Next time, could you at least give me a piggyback?”

“A piggyback?” Steve chuckles, the sound low and rich, and for a moment, it cuts through the tension, easing the tightness in your chest. 

You smirk, despite the burning in your lungs. “I’d say it’s worth a shot.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve shakes his head, still smiling, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, like you just gave him permission to act.

“Steve, I—”

But before you can finish, a loud crash echoes through the warehouse, cutting you off. Your heart jumps into your throat as you both spin around, searching for the source of the noise.

“Stay here,” Steve orders, his voice tense as he moves toward the noise.

You nod, watching him disappear into the shadows. The fear that you thought you’d shaken off earlier comes rushing back, but you force yourself to stay calm, to trust that Steve will handle whatever’s out there.

Seconds feel like hours as you wait, your ears straining to pick up any sound, any sign of Steve. But the warehouse remains eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional creak of the old building settling.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Steve reappears, his expression grim. “It was nothing—just some old crates falling over. We’re still clear.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, relief washing over you. But the tension is still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, reminding you that you’re not out of the woods yet.

“Let’s get some rest,” Steve suggests, though you can tell he’s still on high alert. “We’ll head back to the apartment at midnight.”

You nod, though the idea of rest feels impossible right now. Still, you follow his lead, settling down on a makeshift bed of old blankets and crates. Steve takes up a position near the door, keeping watch as you try to rest.

× × × ×

At midnight, you and Steve make your way through the quiet, shadowed streets back to the apartment, the tension of the night starts to ease, replaced by a more playful energy. The cool night air nips at your skin, and the adrenaline from the chase has left you feeling both drained and energized. Steve walks beside you, his presence steady and calming, even as your mind starts to drift into lighter thoughts.

You stretch your legs as you walk, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Y’know, thanks to you, my legs feel like I’ve done three thousand squats. I could really use a piggyback ride,” you add with a playful grin.

Steve glances at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, is that right? And here I thought you were keeping up just fine.”

“Keeping up?” you scoff, still grinning. “I was practically dragged to keep up with your super-soldier speed. My legs are gonna need a week to recover.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to suffer. The offer for that piggyback ride still stands.” Steve chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. 

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I’m just kidding, Steve. You don’t actually need to—”

But before you can finish, Steve stops in his tracks, turning to face you, “No, no, I’m serious. If your legs are really that tired, hop on. I’ve carried heavier loads before.”

“Steve, I was joking. I can walk just fine.” You raise an eyebrow, caught off guard by his sincerity. 

He crosses his arms, clearly not backing down. “Well, maybe I’m not joking. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his persistence. “Are you really going to make me do this?”

“I’m not making you do anything,” he replies with a grin. “I’m just offering. Besides, I’d hate to see you struggle to keep up with me.”

You give him a playful shove, still grinning. “You really don’t know how to take a joke, do you?”

Steve smirks, taking a step closer. “I take jokes just fine. But I’m also a man of my word. So, are you going to let me give you a ride, or are you going to keep pretending your legs aren’t tired?”

You hesitate for a moment, but the playful challenge in his eyes makes it impossible to resist. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” he says, turning around and crouching slightly. “Just get on.” 

With a dramatic sigh and a smile, you finally give in, climbing onto his back and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The warmth of his body against yours is more comforting than you’d like to admit, and you can’t help but smile as he straightens up with ease.

“See? I told you,” Steve says as he starts walking again, his tone light but with an underlying flirtation. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

“Fine, I’ll admit it,” you tease, resting your chin on his shoulder. “This is pretty nice. But don’t get used to it, Rogers. I still prefer running on my own two feet.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his back. “We’ll see about that. You might start asking for a piggyback every time.”

You laugh softly, enjoying the easy banter. “In your dreams, Cap. I’m only letting you do this because you insisted.”

He smirks, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Well, I’m glad you let me. I’d hate to see you struggle to keep up with me.”

You playfully tighten your grip on his shoulders, leaning in close to his ear. “Next time, I’m leaving you in the dust.”

“We’ll see about that,” he replies, his voice warm with amusement.

As you approach the apartment building, you almost wish the walk was longer. The playful bickering and the closeness are a welcome change from the tension of the night. When Steve finally stops just outside the door and gently lets you down, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed that it’s over.

“Thanks for the lift, Rogers,” you say with a playful grin, trying to hide how much you actually enjoyed the brief closeness.

“Anytime,” he replies, his tone light but his gaze lingering on yours for a beat longer.

You both step inside the building, the warmth of the apartment quickly wrapping around you. The tension of the night hasn’t completely disappeared, but as you exchange a small smile with Steve, you feel a little bit lighter, a little bit closer.

STEVE’S POV

As we approach the apartment building, I find myself wishing the walk was longer. The playful bickering, the closeness—it’s a welcome distraction from everything else, but it’s also a reminder of how much has changed, how much I’ve tried to hide. And how much I can’t deny it anymore.

It wasn’t always like this between us. I remember the first time I met Y/N, and how she immediately stood out in a room full of voices. She was late to a briefing, but instead of slipping in quietly, she walked in with a confidence that turned heads. She made a sharp comment that silenced the room, and I remember thinking how different she was from anyone I’d ever met. She was funny, witty, never afraid to challenge anyone, not even me. It was refreshing, seeing someone who wasn’t intimidated by the title of Captain America, someone who saw me as just another person in the room.

But it wasn’t just that. There’s a lightness to her, a kind of effortless grace that makes everything seem easier. She’s the kind of person who can make you forget about the weight of the world, if only for a moment. Her laugh—God, her laugh—is like music, the kind that seeps into your soul and makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, things will be okay. And her smile… her smile could brighten even the darkest day. It’s not just a smile, it’s a promise, a silent reassurance that no matter what happens, you’re not alone.

Y/N is the kind of person who can make a room come alive just by walking into it. She’s got this energy about her, this warmth that draws people in, makes them feel like they matter. And when she looks at you—really looks at you—it’s like she sees right through to the core of who you are. It’s disarming, and for someone like me, who’s spent so long building walls, it’s terrifying. But it’s also the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.

Somewhere along the line, things shifted between us. I started noticing the little things—the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s deep in thought, the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. I noticed how she can turn a bad day around with just a few words, how she can make me smile even when I don’t want to. And then there are the moments when I catch her looking at me, and I feel something deep inside, something that tells me this is more than just a crush.

It’s more than that. She’s more than that. Y/N is… everything. She’s the person I didn’t know I was waiting for, the one who makes me want to be better, not because I have to, but because she deserves the best of me. There’s something about her that feels like home, something that makes me think maybe, just maybe, I’ve found the person I’m supposed to be with.

But I know the dangers that come with my life. I know what it means to love someone, to let them in, only to lose them. I’ve seen what happens when the people I care about get too close, and the thought of Y/N getting hurt because of me… it’s unbearable. 

So, I told myself not to take action, not to let these feelings grow—but where did that take me? I tried to keep things professional, to remind myself of what’s at stake. But the more time I spend with her, especially on this mission, the harder it becomes to convince myself that keeping my distance is the right choice.

This mission—it’s been pushing us together in ways I didn’t expect. The close calls, the adrenaline, the constant need to rely on each other—it’s making it impossible to keep pretending. Every time I’m with her, I feel my choice slipping away. 

When we finally reach the door, I stop and gently let her down. As her feet touch the ground, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to let go, that doesn’t want this moment to end. I’ve been so focused on the mission, on protecting her, that I haven’t allowed myself to think about what I really want. But in this quiet moment, with her so close, I can’t help but think about it. About her. About us.

“Thanks for the lift, Rogers,” she says with that playful grin that never fails to make my heart skip a beat.

“Anytime,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, though my gaze lingers on hers for a beat longer than it should. There’s something in her eyes tonight, something that makes me think she might feel the same pull I do, the same connection.

As we step inside the building, the warmth of the apartment wrapping around us, I can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between us tonight. The tension of the mission, the close calls—they’re all still there, but there’s something else too. Something that’s been building for a while now, something I’m not sure I can keep ignoring.

I know I shouldn’t let myself get distracted, especially not now, but as I catch her eye and we exchange a small smile, I realize I’m not sure I have a choice anymore. Whatever this is, whatever’s growing between us, it’s real. And for the first time in a long time, I’m not sure what to do about it.

But I do know one thing: Y/N is special. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted but never thought I deserved. Maybe, it’s time to stop running from that. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting what’s right in front of me, to let myself feel what I’ve been trying to bury for so long. Because if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that Y/N is worth the risk. She’s worth everything.

× × × ×

While I was busy adjusting the equipment on the table, the steady rhythm of the water running in the shower fills the small apartment. It’s a comforting sound, something normal in the midst of all the chaos. Y/N’s in there, humming a song—one that I don’t know, but it’s light and carefree, and it brings a smile to my face. It’s hard not to smile when it comes to her.

I try to focus on the task at hand, tightening the screws on a tiny transmitter, but my mind keeps wandering. The past day has been intense, to say the least, and it’s getting harder to keep my thoughts from drifting to Y/N. Especially when she’s just a few feet away, in the bathroom without a door—well, let’s just say it’s seen better days.

That door… I broke it this morning. It was supposed to be a simple thing, something I didn’t even think about. But of course, nothing is simple when you’re me. I was just trying to open it, just a regular, everyday task. But the hinges must’ve been older than I thought, or maybe the wood was rotting—who knows? One gentle push and the entire door gave way with a crack that echoed through the apartment like a gunshot.

Y/N had just stepped out of the kitchen and the look on her face was priceless. She stood there, spatula in hand, staring at me and the door lying on the floor between us. I remember her blinking a few times, as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened, and then she burst out laughing—a full, unrestrained laugh that lit up her entire face.

“Steve, you don’t have to knock down doors just because they’re in your way,” she’d teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

I’d tried to stammer out an explanation, but she was too busy laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement. And honestly, it was worth the embarrassment just to see her like that. Ever since then, the door’s been a lost cause. It’s propped up against the wall in the corner now, like some sad, defeated piece of wood, a constant reminder that maybe I don’t know my own strength—or maybe this apartment just wasn’t built to withstand a super soldier.

Now, with Y/N in the shower, humming away, there’s no door to shield her from the rest of the apartment. I’m doing my best to give her privacy, keeping my eyes firmly on the equipment in front of me, but it’s hard not to think about how thin the walls are, how her humming is the only thing cutting through the silence.

Her humming grows louder for a moment, and I can’t help but smile. She’s singing now, her voice soft and sweet, and I feel that familiar warmth spread through my chest. It’s the same warmth I felt the first time I met her, the same warmth I feel every time she looks at me with those bright, knowing eyes.

I glance over at the door—or what’s left of it—leaning uselessly against the wall. I really should fix it. The water shuts off, and I hear the sound of her moving around in the bathroom—or, well, the bathroom area. My heart does that little skip it’s been doing more and more lately, and I can’t help but wonder if she feels the same way. If she’s thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her.

“Steve?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

“Yeah?” I call back, keeping my eyes firmly on the equipment, though I can feel my pulse quickening.

“Everything okay out there? You didn’t break anything else, did you?” she teases, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Not this time. Everything’s still in one piece.” I laugh, shaking my head. 

“Good to know,” she says, and I can hear the rustling of a towel as she dries off. “You really should do something about that door, though. Not that I mind the view, but it’s a little drafty in here.”

I can’t help but chuckle at that, even as I feel a blush creeping up my neck. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” I say, though we both know it’s probably going to stay propped against the wall for a while longer.

I stand to turn around, assuming that it’s finally safe to—

Damn.

The sight of her stops me dead in my tracks. My eyes land on her, and it feels like the air’s been knocked out of me. She’s wearing a gray tank top that clings to her in all the right places, showing off the subtle curves of her body, and satin pajama shorts that rest low on her hips, the fabric shimmering slightly in the dim light. It’s such a simple outfit, nothing extravagant, but the way she looks in it… I’ve never seen her like this before.

Her hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends, and the way she’s standing there—casual, completely at ease—only makes her more captivating. The softness of her pajamas contrasts with the confidence in her posture, and I can’t help but let my gaze travel from her bare feet, up her toned legs, to the curve of her waist, and finally, back to her face. She looks so effortlessly beautiful, and I’m struck by just how much she’s getting under my skin.

I must be staring longer than I should, because she catches me. Her eyes lock onto mine, a playful glint in them as she realizes what’s happening.

“You know, Steve,” she says, crossing her arms as she leans against the wall, her voice teasing, “you really should be more careful with those doors. They’re not all built to withstand super soldiers.”

I try to pull myself together, but the grin that’s tugging at my lips is impossible to suppress. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” I manage to say, though my voice sounds rougher than I intended.

She narrows her eyes, tilting her head slightly as she steps closer, clearly enjoying the way I’m reacting to her. “What’s the matter, Rogers? Never seen a woman in modern pajamas before?”

I can feel the heat creeping up my neck, and I force myself to meet her gaze, even though every instinct is telling me to look away before I make a fool of myself. “Not like that,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

“Not like what?” she asks, her tone playful, but there’s something more in her eyes, something that makes my pulse quicken.

“Not like… you,” I finally say, my voice betraying me as it drops lower.

She grins, clearly amused by my struggle, and then she takes another step closer, her eyes locked on mine. The space between us is too small—this is different from when I caged her against the wall before—and I can feel the warmth radiating off her. She’s close enough now that I can see the way her damp hair clings to her skin, the faint sheen of moisture still on her arms, the way her tank top dips just enough to draw my eye without being obvious.

“You know, Steve,” she says, her voice softening as she reaches out, her fingers lightly grazing the fabric of my shirt, “you’re awfully tense. Maybe you should relax a little.”

Her touch is light, barely there, but it sends a shockwave through me. I freeze, my breath catching as she traces a slow, lazy line down the front of my shirt, her eyes never leaving mine. There’s a playful challenge in her gaze, like she’s daring me to react, to give in to the tension that’s been building between us.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can’t seem to find the right words. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the worst part is, I’m not sure I want her to stop. But I’ve always prided myself on self-control, on being able to keep my emotions in check, and right now, that control is hanging by a thread.

“You’re making it a little hard to focus,” I manage to say, though my voice sounds strained even to my own ears.

“Oh, am I?” she asks, her tone full of innocent curiosity, but her fingers are anything but innocent as they slowly drag down the length of my torso, stopping just above my belt.

She takes another step closer, her body brushing against mine, and I have to fight the urge to reach out, to pull her closer. I can feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, and every muscle in my body is screaming at me to close the gap between us.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm, but it’s no use. She’s got me completely off balance, and she knows it.

“Maybe a little,” she admits, her eyes dancing with mischief as she leans in, her lips dangerously close to my ear. “But it’s just so much fun to see you squirm.”

I swallow hard, my hand coming up almost on its own to rest on her hip, the touch more intimate than I intended. She doesn’t pull away—instead, she seems to lean into it, her body fitting perfectly against mine as if this is where she was meant to be.

“Y/N…” I start, but my voice trails off, lost in the overwhelming sensation of her so close, of her teasing touch, her soft laughter.

“Yes, Steve?” she whispers, her lips grazing my ear ever so slightly, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I…” I’m not even sure what I want to say. My mind is a blur of thoughts and emotions, and all I can think about is how much I want to close the distance between us, how much I want to feel her lips on mine, to see if she tastes as good as she smells, to—

Before I can finish the thought, she pulls back just enough to look up at me, her expression softening as she sees the conflict in my eyes. She reaches up, her hand gently cupping my cheek, and I lean into the touch without thinking.

“It’s okay, Steve,” she says, her voice full of understanding, of warmth. “You don’t always have to be in control.”

For a moment, everything else fades away—the mission, the danger, the risks—and all I can focus on is her. The woman who’s standing in front of me, the one who’s managed to break down my walls piece by piece, the one who’s become so much more than just a partner, more than just a friend.

I don’t know how long we stand there, the world around us disappearing, but eventually, I find my voice again, though it’s barely more than a whisper. “Y/N, I…”

But before I can say anything else, she gives me that teasing smile again and steps back, leaving me standing there, breathless and completely unprepared for whatever just happened.

“Come on, Steve,” she says, her tone light and playful once more. “You’ve got a door to fix, remember?”

I blink, the reality of the situation slowly coming back to me, and I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “Yeah… right. The door.”

She winks at me, turning to head toward the kitchenette, her laughter echoing softly behind her. “Good luck with that.”

And as I watch her go, I can’t help but wonder just how much longer I can keep pretending that this is all just part of the mission. Because whatever just happened between us—it’s real, and it’s getting harder and harder to resist.

× × × ×

The lights are off, and the room is wrapped in darkness, save for the faint glow of the city outside seeping through the thin curtains. The bed, still small, forces Y/N and me to lie close, though we’re both facing away from each other. Our backs are almost touching, but not quite. 

I close my eyes, trying to force myself to sleep, but it’s no use. My mind’s racing, thoughts spinning with the events of the day and the way she teases me and then leaves me hanging. 

In the darkness, it’s easier to admit things—to myself, at least. Like how I can’t stop thinking about her, how every time she looks at me, it feels like she’s seeing right through me. How much I wish I could just reach out and close the distance between us, to feel her warmth, to know she’s really there.

But I’m Captain America, and she’s my teammate. I can’t afford to let my guard down, not when there’s so much at stake. So I stay quiet, even as the silence between us grows more unbearable by the second.

Just as I’m about to give up and turn over, I hear her voice, soft and tentative in the darkness. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” I respond, my voice low, almost a whisper. 

She hesitates for a moment, and I can hear the uncertainty in her tone when she finally speaks. “Do you ever think about… what happens after all this? After this mission, I mean. We’ve been at this for years.”

I blink, caught off guard by the question. It’s not what I was expecting, but it hits closer to home than I’d like to admit. “Yeah,” I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. “I think about it sometimes.”

“What do you see?” she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper now, like she’s afraid of the answer.

I hesitate, not sure how much to reveal. 

“I don’t know,” I admit finally. “Sometimes, I wonder if there’s anything for me after all this. It’s hard to picture a life that doesn’t revolve around being an avenger.”

There’s a pause, and I wonder if I’ve said too much, but then she speaks again, her voice soft and contemplative. 

“I think about it too, about what I’d want if I wasn’t… doing this. If I wasn’t constantly in danger, or running from one mission to the next.”

I turn slightly, just enough to see her outline in the darkness, the curve of her shoulder, the way her hair spills over the pillow. 

“What do you want, Y/N?” The question slips out before I can stop it, but now that it’s out there, I can’t take it back.

I can almost hear the gears turning in her head as she tries to figure out how much to share. Finally, she sighs, the sound heavy with unspoken thoughts. 

“I guess… I want something normal. You know, a place to call home, people who care about me, who I can come back to. Maybe even… someone who makes me feel like I’m more than just a pawn.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. 

“You deserve that, Y/N,” I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can think better of them.

“What about you, Steve? What do you want?” She turns her head slightly, just enough for me to see the outline of her face in the dim light. 

It’s a simple question, but it feels like the hardest one I’ve ever been asked. I don’t know how to answer, not really. What do I want? I want. . . what she’s talking about. I want that sense of normalcy, that connection, that feeling of being more than just a symbol, more than just Captain America. But more than anything, I want her.

But I can’t say that. Not now, not here, not when we’re lying in the dark, trying to pretend this is just another mission. So instead, I let the silence stretch between us, hoping she doesn’t push for an answer I’m not ready to give.

“I don’t know,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes, I think I’ve been Captain America for so long that I don’t know who I am without it. But… I’d like to find out.”

She doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, I think maybe she’s drifted off to sleep. But then she shifts slightly, her hand moving closer to mine, just brushing against it. The touch is so light, so tentative, that it sends a jolt through me.

“I think you’d still be Steve Rogers,” she whispers, her voice so soft I almost don’t hear it.

Her words linger in the air, hanging between us like a fragile thread. I want to reach out, to take her hand in mine, to say something, anything, that would bridge the gap between us. But I’m afraid—afraid of what it would mean, afraid of what might happen if I let myself feel what I’m feeling.

And then, as if reading my mind, she asks the question I’ve been dreading. “Is there… someone you like?”

Her question stops me cold, my heart thudding in my chest. Do I tell her now?

“There was someone,” I started slowly, my voice rough, the words catching in my throat. “Peggy… she was important to me. She’ll always hold a special place in my heart. But that was a different time, a different life.”

I can feel her listening intently, her silence encouraging me to continue. But when I try to find the words, it’s harder than I expected. “I've moved on. . .”

I can feel her processing my words, trying to understand what I’m really saying.

“Steve,” she says softly, almost tentatively, “what about now, do you have eyes on someone now?”

“Yes,” I whisper, the word barely audible, but it feels like a confession. “I do.”

There’s a moment of silence, and I feel the tension tighten around us, her breathing shallow beside me. Then she speaks, her voice steady but tinged with something I can’t quite place. “I see… Well, whoever she is, she’s very lucky.”

I want to say something, to tell her that the person I like is right here, lying next to me, but the words stick in my throat. The tension in the room feels almost unbearable, and I’m caught between wanting to tell her everything and fearing what that might mean for us.

She shifts slightly, turning so that our backs aren’t just facing away but are instead lined up against each other, the warmth of her skin seeping into mine.

“Goodnight, Steve,” she whispers.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” I reply, my voice soft, but laced with the emotions I can’t quite express.

× × × ×

I now lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to will myself to sleep. The mattress is lumpy, the space too small, and my feet are hanging at the edge of the bed. But that's not what's keeping me awake.

It's her. It's Y/N, lying just inches away from me. I can't get comfortable, can't seem to find a position where I'm not feeling every breath she takes, every slight movement she makes.

The night is colder than I expected. The thin blanket we share isn't doing much to keep the chill away, and I can feel the temperature dropping as the minutes tick by. I try to focus on that, on the cold, on anything other than the fact that Y/N is right there beside me.

But then she moves. In her sleep, she shifts closer, nestling into my side as if seeking warmth. Her body presses against mine, soft and warm, and I go completely still, my throat felt tight. She doesn't wake up, doesn't realize what she's doing, but the effect on me is immediate.

I feel a pang of guilt at the rush of heat that spreads through me, settling low in my abdomen, but I can't help it. Her head rests against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck, and I can feel every curve of her body pressed against mine. My arm is pinned under her, and I don't dare move, don't dare disturb her sleep, but it's torture. Sweet, excruciating torture.

I close my eyes, trying to think of anything else-ice water, long runs in the freezing cold, anything to distract me. But it's no use. My body reacts to her, to the way her leg is draped over mine, to the softness of her chest against my side.

I grit my teeth, trying to ignore the growing discomfort under my sweatpants. It's like my body has a mind of its own, reacting to her bod in a way I can't control. I remind myself that she doesn't know what she's doing, that she's asleep, and that I need to be the one with control.

But control feels like it's slipping through my fingers, especially when she shifts again, her body pressing more firmly against mine. Her hand rests against my chest, just above my heart, and I'm sure she can feel how fast it's beating, even in her sleep.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but then the scent of her fills my senses, and it only makes things worse. I'm stuck between wanting to pull away to give myself some relief and the unbearable thought of losing the warmth of her against me.

She mumbles something in her sleep, her breath tickling my neck, and I clench my fists, trying to anchor myself. It's a losing battle. Every time she shifts, every time her body presses against mine, it sends a wave of heat through me that sends my heart into a frenzy.

I try to adjust slightly, to move my hips away from her to lessen the tension building inside me, but it's nearly impossible without waking her. My body aches with the need to do something, anything, to relieve the pressure that's growing unbearable.

The cold that once bothered me now feels like a blessing, something to focus on instead of the warmth of her body against mine. But even that's not enough. The way she's curled into me, seeking my warmth, is driving me crazy and it's taking everything in me not to respond, not to give in to the need that's clawing at me.

I bite my lip, hard, trying to distract myself from the growing tightness in my pants, but the pain is nothing compared to the torture of having her so close, yet knowing I can't do anything about it. My mind is racing, torn between the guilt of my reaction and the primal desire that's becoming impossible to ignore.

She shifts again, and I feel her leg slip between mine, her thigh brushing against the very part of me that's been causing me so much grief. I suck in a sharp breath, my entire body tensing as I try to resist the urge to move, to not create any friction.

Jesus I feel like a pervert.

She just nestles closer, her body seeking mine, and I'm left lying here, completely helpless against the storm raging inside me.

I can't move. I can't breathe. All I can do is lie there, staring up at the ceiling praying for some kind of distraction, for anything to take my mind off the way her body is stuck against me. But there's nothing. Just the cold, the darkness, and the tightness in my pants.

Eventually, she settles, her movements slowing as she drifts deeper into sleep But the damage is done. I’m left lying there, heart pounding, body aching. Sleep is out of the question now.

I close my eyes, trying to will away my erection, trying to push down the feelings that are threatening to overwhelm me. But it's no use. 

It's going to be a long, long night.

Tags: @lafrone

[imaginationgonewild0912]

The Stakeout - Day 1 || Steve Rogers × Agent!FReader

Day Two Words: 4.1K Themes/Warnings: Unspoken feelings towards each other. Growing tension. Sexual Attraction. Eventual Smut. Being stuck with each other. Summary: You've been assigned to do a stakeout with Steve for 5 days. Your accommodation: a cramped room with one mattress and a table with two rickety chairs. A/N: This is the tone setter. Steve's POV will always be at the end, and it'll be in 1st person. I don't have a tag list so. . .let me know if you want to be kept updated.

Steve Rogers pushed open the door to the small, dimly lit apartment, scanning the room with a soldier's eye. The place was a far cry from what you’re both used to—a single, cramped room with barely enough space to move around. 

You stepped in from behind him, your eyes taking in your temporary home. The first thing that greets you is the unmistakable scent of “eau de mildew” mixed with a hint of something burnt—probably dinner from three tenants ago. The wallpaper is peeling off in a way that makes you wonder if it’s trying to escape, revealing patches of cracked plaster that look like a map of an unknown, crumbling country.

The carpet is a masterpiece of stains, each one telling a story you’re pretty sure you don’t want to know. It’s so worn down that you can almost see the floorboards underneath, which might actually be an improvement.

The lighting is dim, with a single, flickering bulb that casts just enough light to make the shadows in the corners look even more menacing. In the middle of the room sits a mattress that looks like it was dragged out of a dumpster and lost the fight. It’s lumpy in all the wrong places, sagging in a way that suggests it has long given up on supporting anything heavier than a guilty conscience.

The only other furniture consists of two rickety chairs that look like they’re competing to see which one can collapse first. They wobble precariously even when they’re empty, as if they’re just waiting for the right moment to give up entirely.

The kitchen is a museum of outdated appliances, each one looking like it’s plotting against you. The stove has a layer of grease so thick it could probably survive a nuclear blast, and the sink faucet drips with the rhythm of a horror movie soundtrack.

You glance at the bathroom door, which is hanging slightly off its hinges, and decide that whatever’s in there can stay there. The mirror is so cloudy that it’s practically a portal to another dimension, and you’re pretty sure the toilet is older than Captain America.

The windows are streaked with grime, and one is patched with what looks like ancient duct tape. As you take it all in, you can’t help but think that the apartment is less a living space and more a haunted house that’s too tired to actually scare anyone.

“Cozy,” you muttered, trying to inject some humor into the situation. But even you couldn’t hide the discomfort in your voice, “If these walls could talk, they'd probably ask for a lawyer.”

Steve looked at the walls and instinctively covered his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to stifle the chuckle that slipped through—the urge to laugh bubbling up inside him.

The apartment was a disaster, a place so far beyond repair that it almost seemed comical in its neglect. And yet, it wasn’t the state of the place that got to him; it was you. He could already sense the sharp comment forming on your lips. 

Steve had always known you for your back-handed comments—remarkably clever, often brutally honest, and always perfectly timed. You had a knack for finding just the right words to undercut a situation, leaving everyone around you—Tony Stark included—scrambling for a retort. And in moments like these, even in a rundown apartment that could make the bravest Avenger cringe, you managed to make Steve smile, reminding him just why you were the perfect partner.

“It’s not much, but it’s all we’ve got for the next five days.” Steve turned to you, his expression apologetic.

“I've had worse.” You shrugged, tossing your bag onto the table. “At least the cockroaches seem to have packed up and left.”

You had worked together countless times before, but this was different. The close quarters, the extended time alone—usually you have the luxury to be in different rooms.

“I can sleep on the floor. You take the mattress.” Steve said, his eyes drifted to the double-bed size mattress on the floor. 

Your eyebrows shot up. “And have you waking up with a bad back on day one? No way. We can both fit.”

“I don’t mind the floor. Really.” Steve hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. 

“We’re both adults, Steve. It’s just sleeping. We’ll make it work.” You crossed your arms, giving him a determined look. 

He finally relented with a sigh. “Alright, if you say so.”

You spent the next few minutes in silence, each of you slipping into the familiar rhythm of setting up, though the state of the apartment made even the simplest tasks a challenge. The floorboards groaned underfoot with every step, and you had to be careful where you placed your equipment, wary of the spots that felt like they might give way entirely. The walls, pocked with holes and uneven surfaces, made it nearly impossible to secure the cameras properly; more than once, you found yourself muttering under your breath as the adhesive strips refused to stick, sliding down the peeling wallpaper as if in protest.

“Stick, you stupid tape!” you grumbled, pressing the strip back against the wall with more force than necessary, only to watch it slowly peel away once more. The tape seemed to be mocking you at this point, and your frustration was reaching a peak. But at the end, you made it work, as long as the equipment is working—you tell yourself.

The stakeout had reached that inevitable point where the monotony had set in. Hours of staring at surveillance footage had taken its toll, and both you and Steve were in desperate need of a break.

"Alright," you declared, tossing the deck of Uno cards between you. "We need something to keep me from going crazy."

Steve raised an eyebrow, looking at the cards with a mix of skepticism and amusement. "Uno? Seriously?"

"Come on," you teased, sitting cross-legged on the floor and motioning for him to join you. "It’s a classic. Plus, I promise not to go easy on you."

"I’d be disappointed if you did." Steve chuckled as he took a seat across from you, leaning in just slightly as he settled down. 

"Good. I wouldn’t want to let you down.” You grinned, shuffling the deck with practiced ease. 

The game started off lighthearted enough, with both of you trading cards and quips in equal measure. But as the game progressed, you couldn’t help but notice Steve’s hand growing increasingly full of cards, while yours remained relatively manageable.

"Got something against me, Y/N?" Steve asked, his tone playful as he drew yet another card from the deck. His hand was practically bursting with a rainbow of colors, and you couldn’t hide your grin.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you replied innocently, sliding another card onto the pile—a +4. "Just playing the game. Fair and square."

"Another +4? You sure this isn’t personal?" Steve stared at the card, then at you, his eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice, your smile turning teasing. "What if it is, Rogers? Think you can handle me?"

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. "I can handle a lot of things, but you might be more than I bargained for." 

You laughed softly, enjoying the banter. "I’ve been told I’m a handful."

"That’s one way to put it," he muttered, drawing four more cards with an exaggerated sigh. His amount of cards was now so large that he had to hold it in both hands, and you could see the struggle on his face as he tried to keep his composure.

The next round, you drew yet another +4 card, and Steve’s eyes widened in disbelief as you placed it down with a flourish.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," he said, shaking his head, "Are you sure you’re not stacking the deck?"

"I would never," you replied, feigning shock. "It’s just pure luck."

"Pure luck, huh?" Steve shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "If this keeps up, I’m going to need another hand just to hold all these."

You leaned back, giving him a playful look. "You know, Steve, if it’s getting too much for you, you could always forfeit. I wouldn’t judge you. Much."

He met your gaze, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Oh, I’m not giving up that easily. But if I win, I expect some proper appreciation."

"Appreciation?" you echoed, amused. "What do you have in mind?"

He shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. "Maybe something that shows you really understand what it’s like to lose to me."

You tilted your head, your smile turning sly. "Careful what you wish for, old man. I might just surprise you."

By the time you dropped yet another +4 card, Steve threw his hands up in defeat. "That’s it! I’m calling it—this game is rigged!"

You were laughing so hard that you could barely speak. "It’s not rigged! You’re just—oh man, I can’t even—"

Steve couldn’t help but start laughing too, the ridiculousness of the situation finally breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. 

"I can’t believe I’m losing this badly at Uno," he said, shaking his head with a grin. "To you, of all people."

You leaned back, still chuckling. "Hey, I’m just that good."

He gave you a playful glare, but there was no hiding the smile on his face. "Remind me never to play cards with you again."

"Afraid of losing?" you teased, leaning a bit closer, your voice dipping into something softer, more suggestive.

"Afraid of getting a hand full of +4s," he corrected, still grinning. "You’re ruthless."

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. "All’s fair in Uno and war, Rogers."

He shook his head, still laughing, as he began gathering up the cards. That’s when he noticed something odd—a few extra +4 cards peeking out from under where you were sitting. His eyes narrowed, as he zeroed in on the cards.

"Wait a minute," Steve said, his voice laced with suspicion as he pointed to the cards. "What’s that?"

Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly tried to shift, but Steve was faster, leaning forward and grabbing the edge of one of the cards sticking out from beneath you. You immediately tried to cover it up, sitting down harder to keep him from seeing the whole stack of +4s you had hidden.

"Nothing!" you blurted out, trying not to laugh as you squirmed to keep the cards hidden. But Steve’s grin only widened as he tugged on the card, the two of you now playfully wrestling over it.

"Nothing, huh?" he teased, managing to pull one of the cards free. "You’ve been cheating this whole time!"

You burst out laughing, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably. "I couldn’t resist! You should’ve seen your face every time I drew a +4!"

Steve wasn’t giving up, though. He leaned in closer, trying to snatch the remaining cards from you. "I knew it! I knew there was no way you could’ve drawn that many +4s!"

Still laughing, you tried to twist away, but Steve was persistent, his hands now playfully wrestling with yours as he tried to pry the cards from your grasp. 

"Alright, alright!" you finally gasped, surrendering the cards as you fell back into a fit of giggles.

Steve held up the extra +4 cards triumphantly, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

You wiped tears from your eyes, still giggling. "I’m sorry, but it was just too easy. I didn’t think you’d actually fall for it!"

"I’ll get you back for this, you know."

You flashed him a teasing smile. "I’m counting on it, Rogers."

“Yeah, yeah—let's get back to work.”

× × × × 

As night fell, you settled into your positions by the small window that overlooked the building you both were surveilling. Steve had the binoculars up, his posture rigid and focused. You sat beside him, close enough to see the reflection of his serious expression in the glass.

The target this time was Elias Novak, a crime boss who had been operating under the radar for years. He wasn’t just any criminal—Novak was careful, methodical, and always seemed to be two steps ahead of the authorities. But the intel they’d received suggested that Novak was planning something big, something that could have far-reaching consequences if they didn’t act quickly.

For weeks now, whispers had been circulating about a major arms deal in the works, with Novak at the center of it. The specifics were still murky—where the weapons were coming from, who they were being sold to—but one thing was clear: if the deal went through, it could unleash chaos. Weapons of that scale and sophistication in the wrong hands could destabilize regions, spark conflicts, or worse.

“Anything?” you asked quietly, not wanting to break his concentration.

“Not yet,” he replied, his voice a low rumble.

You leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better view yourself. Without thinking, you placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you leaned in. The sudden contact made Steve freeze for a moment, but he didn’t move, his focus still on the building across the street.

You didn’t notice the slight tension in his body as you peered through the binoculars. The movement brought you even closer, your shoulder brushing against his arm. 

“Let me see,” you murmured, your breath brushing against Steve’s ear as you took the binoculars from him. 

You adjusted the focus, squinting into the lens. “Hm, odd,” you said, your tone slightly disappointed.

You handed the binoculars back to him, but instead of moving away, you stayed where you were, still leaning against him slightly. Steve took the binoculars, his fingers brushing your for a brief moment, sending a spark of electricity through you.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, pretending to be absorbed in the task at hand. Finally, you realized how close you were and pulled back, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks slightly flushed. “Didn’t mean to crowd you.”

Steve shook his head quickly. “No, it’s fine. We’ve got to stay close to keep an eye on things.”

You nodded, but the moment of closeness had left you slightly off-balance. You resumed your watch, but both of you were acutely aware of the other’s presence.

Eventually, you decided to call it a night. You changed into your sleepwear first, turning your back to Steve for some semblance of privacy in the open room. When you turned around, you found him already settled on one side of the mattress, his broad frame taking up more space than he probably intended.

You slid in beside him, the mattress dipping under your weight. The proximity was inevitable, and you both tried to ignore it, lying stiffly side by side, your shoulders almost touching.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make yourself relax.

“Goodnight,” Steve replied, his voice equally tense. Minutes ticked by, and neither of you could sleep. 

Finally, you sighed, breaking the quiet. “This is going to be a long five days, isn’t it?”

Steve chuckled softly, a low, warm sound that made your chest tighten. “Yeah, it might be.”

You smiled, turning your head slightly to look at him. In the dim light, you could see the outline of his face, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, just like yours had been moments before.

“We’ll get through it,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

Steve turned his head to meet your gaze, his expression softening. “Always do.”

There’s a pause, and you decide to lighten the mood a little more. You grin mischievously, knowing it’s a little ridiculous but hoping it’ll ease the tension. 

“Just watch out for bed bugs, Rogers. I’ve heard they love big, strong super soldiers.”

He laughs, and it’s a genuine sound that makes your own smile widen. “Good to know. Guess I’ll have to keep the shield close, then.”

“Might want to sleep with one eye open,” you tease.

“I think I can manage that,” he says, his voice lighter now, more relaxed. You can tell that your little joke did its job, easing some of the tension between you. It’s a small victory, but it feels good.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says, a smile still tugging at his lips.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you replied, and you can hear the warmth in his voice this time.

As sleep finally began to take hold, your last conscious thought was of Steve beside you—so close, yet still feeling so far away.

The mission had barely begun, but the real challenge, you realized, would be surviving the next five days without giving away the feelings you had tried so hard to keep hidden.

STEVE’S POV

The room is silent, except for the faint hum of traffic outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor. I keep my eyes fixed on the building across the street, trying to ignore the cramped space around me. We’ve been here for hours now, watching, waiting, but so far, nothing’s happened. Just another quiet night in the city.

I lift the binoculars again, scanning the windows across the way. Everything looks normal—too normal. The target hasn’t made a move yet, but I know better than to let my guard down. That’s when things go wrong.

Beside me, Y/N is sitting quietly, her presence a constant distraction. I’ve been trying to focus on the mission, but it’s hard when she’s this close. It’s not that I don’t trust her—hell, I trust her with my life—but there’s something about being alone with her, in this small space, that’s got my nerves on edge.

“Anything?” she asks, her voice soft, not wanting to disturb my concentration. I can hear the hint of curiosity, maybe even concern, in her tone. She’s as invested in this as I am, which only makes this harder.

“Not yet,” I reply, keeping my voice low. The tension between us is thick—to me at least, and I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend it’s just the stress of the mission.

All of a sudden, she leans in closer, placing a hand on my shoulder to steady herself as she peers over at the building. The contact is so casual, so innocent, but it sends chills through me. My muscles tense, and I have to remind myself to keep still, to act like this is nothing.

She’s close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body, smell the faint scent of her shampoo. Her shoulder brushes against my arm as she takes the binoculars from me, and I swear, my heart skips a beat. I’m a soldier, trained to handle high-pressure situations, but this—being this close to her—is more than I bargained for.

“Let me see,” she murmurs, her breath brushing against my ear as she adjusts the focus. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens. I’m supposed to be watching the target, not getting distracted by the woman beside me.

She spends a few moments peering through the binoculars, her face so close to mine that I can feel the heat radiating from her skin. My mind races, trying to think of anything but how it would feel to close that small distance between us. How it would feel to—

Stop it, Rogers. Focus.

She finally pulls back, handing the binoculars back to me. “hmm, odd,” she says, disappointment lacing her voice.

I nod, taking the binoculars from her, our fingers brushing for just a moment. It’s like a spark of electricity, and I have to force myself to keep my expression neutral. I can’t let her see what she’s doing to me.

She doesn’t move away, though. Instead, she stays close, leaning against me slightly as we continue to watch the building. Every second feels like an eternity. The heat of her body, the soft sound of her breathing—it’s all too much, but I can’t bring myself to step away. I’m not sure if I want to.

Minutes pass, and the tension between us only grows thicker. I’m hyper-aware of every inch of space between us—or the lack of it. My mind keeps drifting, imagining what it would be like if I just turned my head a little, if I just—

She pulls back suddenly, clearing her throat. “Sorry,” she says, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Didn’t mean to crowd you.”

I shake my head quickly, trying to sound like everything’s fine. “No, it’s fine. We’ve got to stay close to keep an eye on things.”

She nods, but the awkwardness lingers. I can feel it in the air. We resume our watch, but it’s like there’s a wall between us now, a wall built by unspoken words and feelings I’m not ready to admit.

Finally, after what feels like hours, we decide to call it a night. Y/N changes into her sleepwear first, giving me a bit of space. I keep my back turned, focusing on the mission, the window, anything but her. But no matter how hard I try, my mind keeps drifting, slipping into dangerous territory.

I hear the soft rustle of fabric as she pulls off her shirt, and my imagination runs wild before I can stop it. Images flash through my mind—her skin, smooth and soft under the dim light, the way her hair might fall over her shoulders as she changes, the subtle curve of her waist as she slips into something more comfortable.

Damn it, Steve. Stop.

I clench my fists, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. This isn’t the time for those kinds of thoughts. She trusts me, and I owe it to her—and to myself—to stay professional. But it’s hard, harder than I ever thought it would be, and the guilt gnaws at me.

I’m supposed to be better than this. Stronger. I’ve faced down enemies that would make most men run in fear, but here I am, struggling to keep my mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t.

The sound of her footsteps breaks through the haze of my thoughts, and I snap back to reality. I settle onto one side of the mattress, trying to take up as little space as possible. But when she slides in beside me, the mattress dips, and suddenly, she’s right there, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body through the thin sheets.

I stare up at the ceiling, every muscle in my body tense. This is going to be impossible.

“Goodnight,” she says softly, her voice breaking the heavy silence.

“Goodnight,” I reply, my voice tighter than I intended.

I can hear her breathing beside me, steady and soft, and I know she’s not asleep either. The tension between us is unbearable, a constant reminder of everything I’m trying to ignore, everything I can’t afford to feel right now.

She sighs, and I hear the frustration in her voice. “This is going to be a long five days, isn’t it?”

I can’t help but chuckle, a low, warm sound that surprises even me. “Yeah, it might be.”

She turns her head to look at me, and I do the same. In the dim light, I can see her eyes, the soft curve of her lips as she smiles. It’s a small moment of comfort, a brief reprieve from the tension that’s been building between us.

“We’ll get through it,” she says, and I can hear the determination in her voice.

I nod, “Always do.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then she adds with a mischievous grin, “Just watch out for bed bugs, Rogers. I’ve heard they love big, strong super soldiers.”

I can’t help but laugh, the tension easing just a bit. “Good to know. Guess I’ll have to keep the shield close, then.”

She chuckles softly, and it’s that laugh—the one that always catches me off guard. It’s light, pure, and it cuts through all the heaviness like a breath of fresh air. I could listen to that sound for hours, and never get tired of it.

“Might want to sleep with one eye open.” she adds, still teasing.

“I think I can manage that,” I reply, still smiling.

Her laughter fades into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, the weight of everything feels a little lighter. It’s a small joke, a silly one, but it’s enough to make the space between us feel less heavy, more manageable.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” I say again, this time with a little more warmth.

“Goodnight, Steve,” she replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

We both settle back, and though the tension isn’t completely gone, it feels like we’ve taken a small step toward something better. Maybe these five days won’t be as long as it seems.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

"How do I know yer real?" There were tears in his blue eyes, threatening to spill out on his cheeks at any moment. "How do I know any of this is real. I've spent so long dreamin' of findin' ya again, I can't be sure this ain't a dream," he drawled.

Your breath left you in a rush and you clasped his face in your hands gently. His eyes closed and the tears finally fell and rolled down his cheeks. "It's real, Daryl. I promise you it's real," you breathed. His blue eyes opened again and searched your face, drank you in, memorized the new scars and marks you hadn't had when the two of you had been separated. "It's real," you said again, softly, blinking away your own tears now.

It was at that moment that he couldn't stop himself anymore, and his lips crashed down onto yours and you melted beneath them and his touch, eager but gentle. A/N: This has Return vibes UGHHH <3

[imaginationgonewild0912]

listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 18+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear you go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Can I have a fic with prompts 4 and 5 for billy loomis x Reader? Like she finds out he's the killer (like the end scene of the movie) and Stu stays downstairs to kill/hurt Sidney and billy takes us upstairs for some fun 🤭🤭🤭🤭

Thank you for your request lovely ;) This one's short but it's a juicy one 💋 Enjoy!

Prompts: "Is that... Blood?" & "I bet you liked it."

Warnings: SMUT, reader has long hair, rough sex, a hint of CNC, unprotected sex, humiliation, plot twist. || Revised: June'24

Reader: AFAB, she/her

You were in Stu's bedroom with Billy. He had been flirting and playing around with you during the party, not only because he had been wanting to fuck you good for a while, but because he needed you out of the way in order for Stu to get a head start with Sidney and torture her a little bit. Confuse her. Play mind games with her.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good." Billy groaned as he pounded you. He had you on all fours, a perfect view of your ass. You were practically pinned between him and the mattress, your whines and moans muffled.

The sounds of skin on skin contact echoed around Stu's room and the squelch of your combined juices was obscene.

"Ride me." Billy practically commanded as he pulled out of you. The loss of his cock inside your cunt made you whine in protest.

Billy wasn't having it, so he grabbed your hips hard enough to leave bruises and moved you between his legs. You positioned the tip of his cock against your hole and slid it inside you slowly. The feeling of his length going all the way in sent a wave of pleasure all over your body.

Billy cursed under his breath and started to thrust up, hitting your g-spot perfectly. He grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled your head back slightly, giving him a perfect view of your neck and tits bouncing. The sight was ecstatic and he needed to feel you cum around his cock. Squeeze him perfectly until he exploded inside you.

He snaked his hand between your legs and rubbed your clit expertly, the pleasure combined with him grazing your g-spot with the head of his cock made you roll your eyes and moan louder than you intended, but at that point neither of you cared.

"Fuck... I'm gonna cum! Please!" You moaned and Billy slowed his thrusts. You rolled your hips against him and panted in desperation. He was building your orgasm slowly until you finally came around him. You moaned and dug your nails on his chest, leaving little crescent moon shapes on his fair skin.

Suddenly, Billy picked up the pace once again and used your hole to get himself off. He came inside you, holding onto your hips to keep you steady for him.

When he pulled out, he observed your mixed juices dripping out of your hole. The sight riled him up and sent a wave of excitement over his body.

•

You and Billy were getting dressed after taking care of the mess you left on Stu's bed. As he was putting his white t-shirt on, you saw a drop of; "Is that... blood?"

Billy looked at you, his expression shifting into an emotionless one in a matter of seconds.

You didn't say anything else, just sat on the bed. Fear taking over your body.

Suddenly, you heard Sidney screaming downstairs and stood up from the bed quickly.

"YN." Billy said seriously, a warning tone laced his voice.

He couldn't be the killer. No. The police didn't find any evidence. It didn't make sense to you.

Sidney screamed again and a loud crash was heard after. You weren't going to stay there having a staring contest with Billy, so you bolted out of the room, quickly climbing down the stairs. Before entering the kitchen you felt someone grab you from behind and cover your mouth. You tried to scream and desperately make any kind of noise but it was too muffled to alert anyone.

"Would you look at who we have here." Stu said. Billy pushed you inside the kitchen and you crashed against the other boys lean frame. He held you in place with a gun to your head and Billy pointed at you with a knife. "How does it feel knowing that you fucked a psychopath?" He asked, a wicked smile on his face. You glared at him. You didn't have anything to say at that point, especially after being humiliated in front of his girlfriend. Your little affair was out in the open.

"I bet she liked it" Stu said teasingly behind you, and you tried to escape his grasp, completely failing.

"That she did." Billy said, laughing in your face.

"And now you're gonna be a good girl and do as we say."

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Hi! Can i ask for a billy loomis x reader where she gets a tattoo of his name either in the side of her breast or in her hip and she shows him and they fuck (if you decide to put the tattoo in her ass he would def drill into reader doggystyle 💀)

This was incredibly fun to write. Thanks for your request anon 💋

🔞 Warnings: AFAB reader (she/her,) cheating, shower sex, fingering, roughness, reader has pre-determined interests, reader has tattoos, implied size difference, unedited

Word count: 2.6k

-

"That's ridiculous Stu!" - "A dare is a dare Tatum, she has to do it!" Stu countered while laughing. The couple, Randy and you decided it was a great idea to play truth or dare while drunk. Sidney and Billy had to leave early and the four of you got bored. Stu was obviously the one who suggested the game.

"I mean, he does have a point." Randy said and Tatum gasped in disbelief; "Wh- Are you seriously siding with Stu on this?! YN! Are you even okay with this?" Tatum asked and you sighed, closing your eyes in defeat. "Look, I appreciate your concern Tate, but I mean... I already have tattoos, another small one isn't going to hur-" - "This is Billy's name we're talking about here, YN. What if Sidney sees it? Or even worse, what if Billy sees it? These two idiots aren't going to keep their mouths shut." The girl has a point, but you honestly didn't care. It could easily get covered up with something else in the future.

"You're right on that one." You said and glared at Randy and Stu before continuing; "But I can get it covered up once it heals, plus it's going to be hidden-" - "What about when we go to the lake next weekend, hm? It wont be hidden there, your hip is going to be exposed." Tatum interrupted.

You didn't know why she was so concerned. Maybe it was because of the whole "tattoos are permanent" or "don't get anyone's name tattooed" mentality.

You smiled at Tatum softly and placed your hand on hers reassuringly; "I'll be fine, okay? We're all friends and it's not going to be an issue. It'll just be for some laughs and then I'll get it covered up, okay?"

Tatum sighed, visibly calming down and glaring at Stu and Randy; "You guys are paying for the cover up too." - "What?! That's not part of the dare!" Randy complained and Tatum rolled her eyes; "It is now, dumb ass." - "That's enough guuyyss, who's up next?!" Stu finished the argument.

•

As promised, you went to the local tattoo shop and got "Billy Loomis" tattooed on your right hip.

"Hooh, that looks hot not gonna lie." Stu said while sticking his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully and blew a bubble with her chewing gum; "I gotta say, it is a hot placement."

You smirked at your friends and stood up straight so the tattoo artist could put protective film over the ink.

"If Sidney wasn't with Billy he'd 100% be into this." Randy said and you gasped, smirking at him; "Randy shut up! Oh my God..." - 'Who said he wouldn't like it now?" Stu said and smirked at you. You bit your lip in response and rolled you eyes playfully. You knew they were just teasing and joking around, but having your crush's name tattooed on you was a total turn on, and you felt like a little slut with your dirty little secret.

•

When you arrived at your house that night, you couldn't stop staring at his name engraved with ink on your skin.

You modeled in front of the mirror with the bikini you were planning to wear next weekend and imagined how Billy would react to you looking as hot as you did with his name on you. You wondered if he'd actually like it, like Randy and Stu said. If he'd get turned on by it. Hell, if he'd fuck you because of it. Your imagination ran wild with all the possibilities.

Billy had always been low-key flirty with you, and you had to admit that it confused you considering that he has a girlfriend, but you figured that he's comfortable being around you and maybe follows your lead just for fun. I mean, friends casually flirt sometimes jokingly so you guessed it was normal between you guys.

•

It was finally the end of the week and you were leaving to the cabin that Stu's parents own. There's apparently a huge lake that's perfect for the hot summer sun.

Your bag was made and you were once again admiring Billy's name on your skin. The tattoo was small enough to peel and heal just enough to get in the water during the week.

You were putting sun block on your skin and the tattoo looked vivid with the moisture of the cream. You couldn't wait for Billy to see it.

Stu pulled up to your driveway and honked the horn of his parents van. You jumped in excitement and ran down the stairs, bag in hand. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you opened the door and walked towards the car.

Everyone was already seated and there was a space reserved for you at the very back with Randy.

"You ready to show Billy your new tatt- Ow!" you hit Randy on his bicep and Billy looked back from his seat. "Show me what?" He asked, confusion written all over his face.

Stu let out a breathy laugh and Tatum thumped him. Billy looked at the couple suspiciously and bit his inner cheek in annoyance. Luckily he didn't question you again, but he definitely knew something was going on with how obvious everyone was being.

•

After a three hour drive, you guys finally arrived at Stu's cabin and settled in before heading outside and picking a spot to set up a picnic in front of the lake.

The sun was shining bright and the water looked a nice teal color. It was still and quiet.

You could hear the birds and the wind swishing the trees. You helped Tatum and Sidney set up everything before sitting down on the blanket to bathe under the sun.

Taking your short flowy black sun dress off, you revealed your indigo blue bikini. It hugged your body perfectly and exposed just the right amount of skin and curves.

You sat down on the picnic blanket next to the girls and made eye contact with Billy who was taking his shirt off next to you. He raked his eyes up and down your body before giving you a subtle smirk. You bit your lip and looked away only to find Stu giving you a knowing look followed by a breathy laugh. You flipped him off and he shrugged, laughing before running into the water with Randy like a maniac.

Tatum gave you a knowing look as well and you nodded at her before looking at Sidney. "Hey uh, Sid..." You started; "I have something to show you, but I'm giving you context first because it's a little weird."

Sidney looked at you, a subtle smile on her face mixed with confusion; "Yes?" - "Last week when you and Billy left Stu's house early, the rest of us playd truth or dare an-" - "Oh my God, did you kiss Randy?" She asked jokingly and you placed your hand over your mouth to suppress a loud laugh; "What?! No! No... Ugh okay, I got dared by Stu to get Billy's name tattooed on my hip and I did it." You finished quickly and showed the girl your new ink.

Sidney gasped and laughed at the sight. "Oh my Gosh, you're crazy!" - "You see Tatum?! I told you she wouldn't get mad." You said, rolling your eyes at the blonde and she gasped; "Hey! I'm just trynna look out for my girlies, God."

All three of you laughed and looked ahead at the lake. "I wonder what Billy will say." Sidney wondered and you looked at her; "Do you think he'll get mad or something?" - "Nah, I don't think so. Well, maybe at Stu for being an ass and making you do it." Sid replied and you nodded in response, sudden nervousness taking over.

•

After a while, you and the girls decided to get in the water and enjoy the cool temperature after sun bathing.

You approached the shore and Stu swam towards you like a shark waiting to attack.

Before you could dip your whole body in, Stu gasped dramatically. "Oh myyy, YN? Is that a new tattoo?"

You looked at him in disbelief and thumped him; "Shut up, Stu" - "Damn would you look at that! It is a new tattoo" Randy said and looked at Billy. Subtlety wasn't part of both your friends at that moment.

Billy glared at both of them and then stared at you and the girls.

"What the hell is going on with you guys? You've been acting weird since we picked up YN." - "Ugh, Stu dared me to get your name tattooed on my hip and I did, okay?" You answered quickly, annoyance written on your face.

Billy raised an eyebrow and smirked, followed by a laugh. "You actually did it?" He asked while walking towards you.

Stu was trying to hold his laughter in but could barely do it. Tatum smacked his bicep and glared at him. "Don't be an ass." She whispered, the situation clearly being awkward for you.

Billy crouched down in front of you and you showed him the ink, trying to maintain distance, but he was making it impossible.

Billy ran his thumb over the tattoo and let out a breathy laugh. "You're insane." he said and looked up at you. He was amused and his touch made goosbumps arise on your body. It didn't go unnoticed by him and he smirked.

The boy stood up and towered over you, looking straight into your eyes. You blushed at his close proximity. "I like it, it looks hot on you," he said, loud enough for only you to hear before swimming away.

The rest of the group joined him and started playing with water guns and other toys, however you stood in the same spot a few seconds longer, but Randy snapped you out of your daze.

"You coming?" He asked, and you swam towards him. "Didn't know you have a little crush on Billy boy." he said, and you looked at him, faking confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about." - "Oh c'mon, you were tense as a rock." - "Shut up Randy. Even if I did, he's dating Sidney so I'd have to get over it." You countered and he lifted his hands in defeat. "Chill, I'm just messing with you." He laughed softly before swimming along with you.

•

After being in the lake nearly all day you decided to take a shower before joining the group. Little did you know, Billy was also in the cabin waiting to get you alone.

Walking into the bathroom, as you were closing the door something stopped it from moving. You opened it to check what was blocking it and saw it was Billy.

You gasped in surprise and looked up at him. "You can use it first, I can wait a few more minutes to shower." You said and Billy walked a bit closer to you. "Mm no, you go ahead. I don't mind waiting here." He said and stepped in with you, locking the door behind him.

"What um... Are you doi-" - Before you could finish your sentence, Billy pushed you against the wall and kissed you. You yelped against his lips but returned the kiss without thinking about it a few seconds later.

Billy pulled back and looked away, biting his lower lip. "Fuck... Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all day... For so long, at this point." He whispered.

You were at a loss of words and in disbelief. He actually wanted to kiss you? Wanted to feel your soft lips against his?

"Billy I... Why? You're with Sidn-" - "Fuck Sidney... God, that tattoo... My name on your skin? I wanted to fuck you right then and there when you showed me." He admitted, running his hand over your hip.

You couldn't believe what was happening. Billy Loomis wants you just as much as you want him. All this time you could've had him.

The feeling of want consumed your body. You didn't care about Sidney. Selfishness took over you and God did the thrill feel good.

You didn't waste anymore time and kissed him again, quickly reaching for his hair and pulling at the strands.

He moaned as quietly as he could and pulled you against him by your hips.

Billy squeezed the flesh and moved his hands up your back, untying your bikini straps followed by the ones over your neck.

The piece of fabric fell on the floor and he grabbed your tits in his large hands, squeezing them softly while pinching and playing with your nipples. The little moans you released made his cock twitch, it begging to be set free.

"Fuck... You're so hot." Billy whispered while snaking one hand down your body and untying your bikini bottoms.

He ran two fingers between your folds and felt the wetness coat them. He brought his hand up to his mouth and tasted you, moaning as a response.

"You taste so fucking good." He said and you whined at the sight. Billy gestured to the shower with his head and looked into your eyes; "Let's get in there."

You widened your eyes in surprise and bit your bottom lip; "Are you crazy?" - "Maybe, I mean... You wanted to take a shower, right?" He replied, smirking.

•

In the shower, the water ran hot over you. Billy had you against one of the cold walls, your tits pressing against his chest while he finger fucked you and rubbed your clit with his thumb.

"Fuck... Fuck, Billy please." You begged him to move his hand faster, but he was torturing you with his slow movements.

You squeezed his fingers with your cunt and it only made his cock harder against you.

"You feel so good around my fingers baby." He whispered in your ear and your breathing picked up. You were trying to be quiet but fuck he was making you feel so good that you wanted to scream.

You grabbed his cock and started to stroke it just as slow as he was fucking you with his fingers. He cursed under his breath and kissed you impossibly slow. You guys were driving each other crazy, and Billy didn't want to wait any longer to fuck that sweet cunt of yours.

Pulling his fingers out of you, the emptiness made you moan quietly against his shoulder.

Billy moved you towards the see through panel of the shower and pressed you facing forward. Your tits were squished against the glass and you could see the reflection in the mirror above the sink. You looked impossibly hot, and when you felt Billy lift one of your legs to the side, slipping inside your sopping cunt? It was over.

You let out a moan that was too loud for your liking and Billy covered your mouth with one of his hands while the other held your hip to keep you pressed against the glass.

He snapped his hips against your ass and filled you up deliciously with his cock.

You craned your head to the side and grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling his head towards you and kissing him.

You breathed heavily into each other's mouths as Billy pounded into you.

Thanks to him working you up with his fingers you were incredibly sensitive, so when he reached between your legs and rubbed your clit in circles it was over for you.

You moaned against his palm and came around his cock, squirting in the process. Billy looked down between your bodies and the sight of his cock pumping inside of you while you squeezed your walls around him was enough for him to reach his own high.

Billy pulled out and jerked himself, cumming over your ass.

The water slowly washed everything off your body and you turned around to face him.

"This will be our little secret, hm?" Billy whispered and you bit your lower lip, nodding in response before initiating another make out session.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation

Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!

“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room. 

Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”

“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”  

“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”

“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him. 

“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team. 

“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–” 

“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.” 

“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”

“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”

Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend. 

“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day. 

“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could. 

“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”

“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”

“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”

“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”

“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”

Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced. 

“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck. 

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off. 

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that. 

The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night. 

“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”

He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail. 

Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter. 

“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.” 

Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him. 

“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down. 

His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.” 

“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said. 

You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”

“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”

Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”

“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly. 

Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”

“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you. 

“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend. 

“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation. 

Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play. 

To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck. 

He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead. 

Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his.  He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out. 

“Hi baby, there you are!”  

Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised. 

Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him. 

In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”

Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you. 

Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side. 

You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied.  He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along. 

Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.  

“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly. 

“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.  

Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over.  Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding. 

The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.  

You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there. 

You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.  

“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look. 

You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached. 

“Shit– yes.”

“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot. 

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together. 

“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening. 

“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist. 

“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.” 

“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes. 

“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.  

“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating. 

But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”

“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger. 

There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off. 

“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off. 

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.  

That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily. 

“What a creep,” one of them said. 

“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon. 

“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.” 

The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well. 

“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod. 

“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”

You shivered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.  

“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances.  You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”  

Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.  

“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them. 

“She was into you, Tyler.”

He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing. 

Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.” 

Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled. 

“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said. 

“And do what?” Tyler asked. 

Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”

Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.  

Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.  

He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.  

“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.  

“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was. 

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…” 

Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger. 

But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”

Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out. 

Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”

Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”

With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand. 

“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly. 

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Yours to Command - Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: you don’t tolerate disrespect towards your betrothed and in return he shows you how much he appreciates it.

Warning: smuttttt also I used an app for the Valyrian so if it’s wrong my bad.

Masterlist

“He’s nothing but a bastard-.” The Lord couldn’t even finish his sentence as you drew your sword, crafted from the finest steel, and slashed him across the face from ear to lip.

The room erupted in gasps of horror and surprise as you cut into the man’s flesh. The Lord had been boasting to your stepmother, Queen Rhaenyra, and your father, Daemon, about how you should marry his eldest son, dismissing Jacaerys as an option because of his infamous brown hair. What the Lord didn’t know was that you loved Jacaerys' distinguished curls and his soft brown eyes.

“Watch your tongue as you speak of my betrothed.” Your sharp words echoed throughout the large hall as crimson dripped onto the floor and you approached the fear-stricken man. “For not only is he someone I hold dear to my heart, but he is also your Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and wields a sword better than I.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.” Queen Rhaenyra’s voice cut through your enraged fog, and you felt a familiar pair of hands grip your waist.

You leaned into Jace’s grasp and turned to the queen, who didn’t look angry. Her eyes had a smugness to them, but her face remained professional. Your father, on the other hand, couldn’t contain his smirk, proud of his eldest daughter.

“My queen, I hold you in the highest respect,” you announced, bowing your head to her, then turned back to the crowd of men. “But I don’t tolerate disrespect towards my beloved.” Your eyes narrowed like a viper's with a sharp tongue. “Let this fool be my last warning to you all. As his wound scars over, I want you all to see what the least I can do, because next time I’ll take a note from my father's book and let you keep your tongue.”

The room remained still and quiet as you made sure to look every person in the eye, asserting your seriousness. “Jacaerys, please take your betrothed to her chambers, and we’ll discuss her actions,” she spoke mainly to you, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she wasn’t mad. She was proud that someone stood up for her firstborn.

Jace pressed you against his front, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his scent washing over you and soothing your rage. “Come, my love,” he whispered softly, his voice calming you, though your hard exterior remained unmoved. Keeping a death stare fixed on the bloody face of the Lord, you allowed Jace to lead you out of the council chamber with a gentle hand on your lower back.

As you both walked down the hallway, silence enveloped you, broken only by the clicking of your shoes against the stone floor. Finally, you let out a loud sigh, releasing your frustrations, and glanced up at Jace, who was walking to your right. His attention was already on you, his lips curled into a knowing smile. He was used to your angry outbursts, especially since he knew he was one of the few (besides your late mother) who could calm you.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly as you both continued the long walk to your wing where your and your sisters' rooms were. “I know you can handle it yourself.” Your blood boiled as you thought of the way the older men looked at him, trying to offer their puny excuse of sons your way. “If I offended you, I apologize.”

A chuckle escaped from the Prince's mouth, making you pause in your step. With quick movements, Jace gently pushed you against the wall between two columns and pressed a heated kiss to your lips. You gasped, and he bit down on your parted bottom lip. “Please never apologize for caring for me,” he murmured, his lips barely leaving yours as his eyes bore into your own. “It doesn’t offend me knowing I have a strong woman by my side, willing to cut anyone down for speaking ill of my name.” Jace kissed you again, and you pressed your hands on his chest, gripping the black tunic with gold embroidery sewn into the fabric.

He pulled away to mumble, “I’m proud to be yours. And I can’t wait until you’re my wife.” His words made you melt like butter because you couldn’t wait either. You smiled up at him with sultry eyes.

“I can’t wait to call you husband.” Jace smiled brightly, pressing you back in for a kiss, making both of you smile into the act like grinning fools.

The kiss brought on a sense of excitement that sent chills down your spine, and a soft, almost imperceptible moan escaped your lips when his hands began to caress your waist.

Hearing your soft moans, Jacaerys dragged his tongue along your full bottom lip, making you part your mouth and allowing his tongue to slip in. Your moans grew embarrassingly louder, but they only drove the prince to kiss you harder.

His hands lowered to your hips, and without warning, he picked you up and pinned you to the wall. Your dress slid up to your thighs, allowing you to lock your ankles together, pulling him close until his groin matched your own. The stone wall was cold against your back, but with your betrothed pressing you against his hard, hot body, you had no complaints. Instead, you arched your back, making his stiffness rub against your core, leaving you craving more of this. More of him.

You could feel Jacaerys breath catch in his throat at the feeling of your body against his, and a small growl escaped his lips as his hips began to grind into yours, and his grip on your hips tightened as his eyes met yours, filled with desire.

“Y/n…we shouldn’t be doing this,” He murmured, but his body continued to betray his words, pressing against you more firmly. “Anyone could see us…”

You slipped a hand behind his head as heat pool in your abdomen and you tugged on his curls making his close his eyes in a short bliss. Your lips curled as you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth bucking your hips to add friction while your mouth trailed down to his neck pressing mouth open kissed to his pearly skin. “Ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon skoros nykeā sīr called bastard iksos capable hen.” Let them see what a so called bastard is capable of.

A low, almost guttural growl escaped from the Prince’s lips. “Hang va issa, beloved.” Jace secured his grip on you while your hands wrapped around his shoulders, fists clinging to his curls for dear life. “Open,” he commanded. If it were anyone but him or the queen, you would’ve laughed in their face, but for Jacaerys, you’d gladly walk off a cliff if he so desired. Hang on my beloved.

"I'm yours to command, my prince," you responded, your voice low and breathless. You parted your lips, but Jace couldn't help himself and pressed his open mouth to yours. With one hand, he raised your dress higher, his fingers slightly grazing your covered heat before ripping your stockings and excusing your cotton underwear.

When he pulled away, you immediately whimpered but were silenced by his pointer and middle finger shoving their way into your mouth. Your eyes widened at first, but as his brown eyes bore into yours, you began to suck his digits and even swirled your tongue around them. "By the gods, you’re perfect," he began. "And you’re all mine."

He slowly pulled his hand away from your mouth, making sure to caress your bottom lip. With haste, he reached under your bunched-up fabric to tease you slightly by gliding his soaked fingers against the already wet fabric of your undergarments.

"My Prince, please." Jace kissed your lips, hushing you as he pulled your coverings aside and pressed against your mound, sliding into your slick folds. He caressed you up and down, teasing your clit down to your entrance. "Gods."

Your head tilted back, hitting the stone wall in ecstasy as his rough fingers began to circle around your pearl. This wasn’t the first time Jace had touched you there. You both hadn’t been all that patient with waiting until you were wed, but as the honorable gentleman that he is, you hadn’t consummated anything because Jace really wanted to wait until the wedding night. However, that didn’t stop you both from getting your pleasure from other things. If it were up to you, the dragon rider would’ve already had the best ride of his life.

"Jace." You moaned out as he began the motion of figure eights, making your legs shake in delight.

"I love you like this, Princess." His hot breath hit your face as he leaned over you and kissed your parted lips. "When we wed, I plan on taking you in every nook and corner of this palace until you're full of my seed." Your cunt pooled at his words, and Jace could feel how wet you were becoming by the slushing sound his fingers made against your throbbing nerve. "You want that, my beloved?"

Loud moans spilled from your swollen lips as you helplessly nodded, knowing that if you didn’t respond in some way, he’d stop. “Yes,” you managed to get out as your abdomen tightened and your breath hitched, feeling that familiar, eye-blinding sensation start to form. “I can’t wait to be full of your children, letting everyone know what you did to me.” Jace kissed down your neck and sucked on that one spot that made you weak in the knees. “And I want them all to know how much I liked it.”

The prince sucked harder, and without realizing it, you began to yank at his curls, making his desire burn more intensely, especially as your moans increased and became shorter, signaling your very close end. “Cum syt issa, issa jorrāelagon milk issa fingers rūsīr aōha sweetness nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon ao withering isse pleasure.” Cum for me, my love milk my fingers with your sweetness I want to see you withering in pleasure.

As his fingers continued their steady pace, rubbing against your clit, and his mouth worked against your neck, your body tensed in delight as your orgasm washed over you like a dragon's fire. No words left your parted lips, and you were grateful that Jace pressed his against yours in a kiss, because after that intense pleasure, you just wanted to be engulfed by nothing but him.

"I love you," you whimpered, making his boyish grin return to his face as he slightly pulled his head back to look at you. His hand slipped out from your undergarments, and he pulled your dress back down to cover your exposed thighs, keeping your skin hidden from view.

He sucked his fingers clean before he spoke. “Issa prūmia exists outside issa chest kesrio syt nyke’ve given ziry naejot ao se moment nyke tegon issa laesi va ao.” The brightest smile spread across your face, and as the two of you kissed, engrossed in the love surrounding you, someone clearing their throat made you both pull away like two deer caught by dogs. My heart exists outside my chest because I’ve given it to you the moment I land my eyes on you.

“Aōha valyrīha emagon gotten rōvēgrior, nephew.” Jace's face turned crimson from embarrassment, unlike the oversized pig of a man who had insulted him earlier, whose face was red with blood. Your Valyrian has gotten excellent, nephew.

You glared at your father, Daemon, as the prince carefully set you back on your feet and stood in front of you, nudging you behind him, between the columns. "But could you not corrupt my daughter before the wedding ceremony?" His knowing smirk could be seen over your beloved's shoulder, and he stood tall with his hands laced in front of him.

“Daemon-“ Jace began but your father raised a hand to stop him.

"Please just take her to her chambers before the Queen decides not to marry you a week from today." This news had you clenching Jace's hand, and he smiled down at you because the date hadn't been set yet. "And act surprised when she announces the news to you both, and please, no public displays of your love at least until after the wedding." Daemon shot them a sinful grin before nodding them off and walking past them.

"A week," you whispered with excitement, pulling Jacaerys into a loving kiss, which he returned with just as much enthusiasm. He grabbed your waist, began to pull you from the wall, and spun you around, making both of you laugh with joy.

Hoped you all enjoyed it’s been a while since I’ve written anything but I’m in my Jace era and I’m truthfully scared to be in it because I know my hearts going to be ripped out of my chest.

~ Caroline

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Casual

warnings: best friend!jace, smut, p in v, arranged marriage with another man, cheating, fwb situation. Gif not mine (: most definitely not proofread as i wrote this at like 1 LMFAOO

A/n: Okay, so i never have written for him but my obsession is growing so… I’m straying away from rafe for a moment to try this. the got/hotd community is super good at writing, definitely a lot better than me, so… and im not super into the got/hotd lore, so i apologize if something is off 😭 im a casual watcher

♫ casual, chappell roan.

masterlist

divider below by @/plutism

He stared from afar, his eyes fixed on you and your now husband. The grip he had on his cup tightened, knuckles turning white. He tuned out the chatter of the people around him, attention solely on you.

You forced a smile when he cracked a joke, you had to hide the distaste you had when he touched your shoulder. You didn’t want to be married off to some man you barely knew, some man you didn’t love.

Your eyes traveled to your friend, his eyes staring right back at you. When Jace first found out you were marrying another, he didn’t want to believe it.

You two had this complicated relationship. You were sneaking around with the boy, hooking up, but it was all casual. That’s what you told yourself. Because you knew that it was since birth this loveless marriage had been planned.

You knew that you and Jace could never be.

“Excuse me for a moment.” You told your husband, interrupting him. His face fell, and he nodded. You smiled at the man, patting his arm and beginning to walk over to your best friend.

“Say, is Jacaerys Velaryon jealous of my husband?” You teased him, standing next to him. He chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course not. I’m happy for you.” He lied, an obvious one.

“Right… that’s why you’re eyeing me from across the room?” You teased, you didn’t miss the small smirk that fell on his face.

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

You smiled, both of you looking at your husband now.

You commented, "He's nice, kind." you turned your head back to Jace and said, "But he's not you." Your voice was sincere, almost a whisper. His eyes searched yours, small smile still on his face.

He didn’t know how to respond, mouth going agape, he just turned back to the man who was currently getting showered in gifts, while you still looked at the man you loved.

“A small part of me always hoped it would be us.” He admitted after a moment of silence between the both of you. You raised an eyebrow, he turned to face you again.

“I know.” You nodded. “But…”

He raised his eyebrows now, curious as to what you were gonna suggest.

That’s how the both of you ended up in a room, you giggling as you shut the large doors. Your lips were on his in an instant, hands tangling into his curls.

“It’s your wedding. They’re gonna be looking for you.” He spoke when he pulled away for air, and you shrugged.

“Let them.” You murmured against his lips, both of you breathing heavily. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he smiled as he carried you over to the bed.

He gently laid you down, lips leaving yours momentarily so that he could slide his pants off. He bunched your dress up, moving it out of the way. He looked down at you, leaning down to kiss you again. Your lips were like a drug to him, always tempting him.

He lined his length up to your soaked hole, you holding him close when he slowly slid in. You bit your lip to suppress the noises you wanted to make, his large size stretching you out.

He looked down at you, your hands digging into his back, sure to leave crescent shaped marks. He let out a low groan, feeling your walls clench onto him. His eyes remained on you as he set a slow pace, you looking right back up at him with those glossed over eyes that he adored every time.

You felt every vein, every ridge and every inch against your walls. Your mouth went agape, his cock hitting your cervix. His hand went to your clit, rubbing circles onto it.

And with Jacaerys, you never lasted long. So you weren’t shocked when you already felt that knot in your stomach that had you arching off the bed for him. He smiled, kissing down your neck, and as much as he wanted to mark you up, he knew he couldn’t.

It was just another reminder of no matter how badly he wanted you, he couldn’t have you.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Māzigon arlī naejot issa.

(Come back to me)

jacaerys velaryon x betrothed!reader

warnings; talk of injuries and blood, canon divergence, angst ending with comfort summary; reader was sent to rook’s rest and when she returns injured, jace nearly looses his mind  a/n; reader is targaryen and in my head she is maybe rhaenyra’s cousin but i didn’t feel like fleshing out a whole family for her so you can use your imagination. 

Jacaerys has been going mad. The Lady Y/N has been gone for hours, and every second more that the Prince was ignorant of her fate was a second closer to him flying off in search of her. She’d volunteered to fly to Rook’s Rest and face Cole’s army herself. Her dragon, Silverwing, is the largest dragon with a rider second only to Vhagar, but she’s been gone too long for the prince’s liking. He’d begged her not to go, begged his mother to send him instead, and neither had listened. He couldn’t deny the logic of the choice, but the longer she stayed at battle, the more images of her broken and bloody flooded her betrothed’s mind. 

The Prince and the Queen stand on the balcony off his chambers. Queen Rhaenyra has tried calming her son, but to no avail. The sun nears the horizon, setting the sky on fire in shades of gold and red, but Jacaerys only watches for signs of his betrothed. 

“I’m going after her,” Jacaerys blurts out, unable to contain himself any longer, pushing off the stone half wall. 

“No,” the queen says firmly, moving to block her son’s path. Ever since the death of Prince Lucerys, the queen has kept her eldest son close, refusing to send him out on dragon back. 

“She should have been back by now! I will not just sit here and await news of her fate,” the prince argues, his voice strained and fraught. The Queen’s heart aches at the panic in her son’s eyes. 

“Y/N is a fierce dragon rider. I am confident she will return soon,” she says placatingly, reaching up to cup his cheek, but Jacaerys pushes her away. 

“No, I can’t just sit here. She’s to be my wife; I’m meant to protect her, not sit safely by in a castle while she risks her life protecting my birthright!” The prince exclaims and pushes through the doors to his chambers, but a dragon’s shriek stops him in his path. He whips around, his eyes scanning the skies for the sight of his betrothed. And then he sees her. 

Jacaerys sprints through the halls of Dragonstone, his steps echoing against the stone as he makes his way out of the castle. He should feel relieved, but the prince cannot shake the fear clutching at his heart. 

As Jacaeryrs reaches the mouth of the Dragonmount, all his fears come to the forefront. Y/N isn’t in the saddle; instead, she’s clutched in the silver claws of her dragon, her arm hanging limply down. Silverwing sets her down gently before landing herself, and Jacaerys swears he can see the sadness in her massive silver eyes. “No, no, no,” Jacaerys mutters, dropping to his knees next to her body, tears blurring his vision as he pulls her body to him. Her clothes are covered in blood and singed, an arrow lodged in her shoulder, and a gash on her side. Her silver hair is dark with ash and crimson, but breath still moves through her lips shallowly, a small beacon of hope. Without any thought but her care, he scoops her into his arms, cradling the body of his betrothed to his chest and running as fast as he can back to the castle. 

“Call the master!” He bellows to the first guard he sees, his voice fraught and cracking, the princely tone he maintains forgotten in his panic. “Hold on, my love.”

As he pushes his way through the doors of the castle, the Grand Maester and the queen, followed by Ser Lorrent, rush towards the pair. “Help her!” The prince shrieks at the maester, all manners forgotten, and his expression is wild with fear. Used to such behavior, Grand Maester Gerardys simply nods and inspects the body in the prince’s arms. 

“We’ll take her to her chambers. I’ll meet you there,” he says and turns, hurrying off to gather supplies. Ser Lorrent steps forward, his arms outstretched, to take the girl from the prince, but Jacaerys pushes past him, following after the maester up to the stairs and hurries to her apartments. 

As they reach her chambers, the prince lays her down gently on her bed, not caring for the state of her bedclothes. He stays close to her side as the maester gathers his things, watching her closely to make sure she stays breathing. Soon, Geradys comes to her side. “Excuse me, my prince,” he says softly to the young prince, but he doesn’t seem to hear. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand wrapping around her son’s shoulder. 

“Darling, let the Grand Maester work,” she says softly, pulling Jacaerys back a few steps. Rhaenyra tries to coax him away to wash and change, as he is now covered in his betrothed’s blood, but he refuses. 

“No, I won’t leave her,” he says, pulling against his mother. 

“We won’t; just give him space, my darling,” she coos, pulling him to her and wrapping her arms around her darling son, whose body is shaking. He relents to his mother’s pull, allowing him to be held like a child as he watches the maester struggle to keep the love of his life in the world of the living. 

Nearly an hour later, the maester turns to the prince and queen, blood staining his front and hands and his eyes weary. “I’ve done all I can, your Grace, my Prince. It is up to her spirit and the gods now. But she is a fighter, if ever there was one,” the Geradys says, his eyes soft for the Prince of Dragonstone. The Queen thanks him, but Jacaerys isn’t listening, moving forward numbly. He kneels next to the bed, his shaking hands reaching for hers, the ash and blood washed clean by the maester. He presses a gentle kiss on her skin, gripping her hand tightly between his own. 

“Y/N, my love,” the Crown Prince whispers, reaching up to brush a strand of silver hair from her brow. “You have to fight. Please, you can’t... I can’t lose you as well, please. Kostilus, māzigon arlī naejot issa. Ko-Kostilus,” he begs, his throat closed tightly as tears slip down his cheeks. Please, come back to me. 

***

It’s a full day before Y/N wakes, and Jacaerys has refused to leave her side. Late afternoon light shines into the room, beams of light cutting the air and washing it in an amber glow. Amethyst eyes flutter open, blinking in the brightness of the room. 

“Jace?” She mutters; her voice is rough and her throat is burning. 

“Y/N!” Jace gasps, jumping up from his seat in the center of the room to kneel at her side, gingerly taking her hand in his. “You’re awake!” he laughs in relief, his vision blurring with tears of joy. He drinks her in, her weary smile, and the lilac swirls in her eyes he thought he’d never see again. 

“How long-?” She begins groggily, attempting to sit up by the wound in her abdomen, causing her to grimace. Jacaerys gently pushes her back down to the pillows.

“Don’t move, my love. Silverwing brought you back one evening past. You were,” the prince swallows, his throat constricting at the memory, “badly wounded. Gods, I feared you’d not wake.” He reaches for her, his calloused hand cradling her head. 

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, my prince,” she smiles. Even wounded and weak, her humor remains. Jacaerys laughs through his tears, moving to sit on the bed and covering her face in kisses, making her giggle until it causes too much pain in her stomach. 

“What happened?” Jace asks, sitting back and holding her hand tightly. 

“Aemond was there, and Aegon. It was a trap,” she sighs, grimacing. “We were engaged with Sunfyre when Vhagar appeared... I had to fly close to the ground to get out from between the pair, and their archers took advantage.” 

“Gods, I will kill both of them for laying a hand on you,” the prince says, his voice crackling with anger.

“I’m alright, Jace,” she coos, reaching up to cradle his beautiful face in her hands. His anger subsides at her touch, her gentleness soothing the fires raging inside him. 

“You’re wounded; you nearly died. If you’d arrived minutes later, you would have been passed by the time you returned to me. My love, Icouldn’t bear it if you-”

“Jace-”

“Promise me. Please just promise me you’ll be more careful,” the prince implores, his amber eyes fierce and wide. 

“I promise, Jace. I do, and I will,” she says earnestly, their eyes locked for a long moment. “Come here,” she whispers, pulling on his hands to bring him closer. “Lay with me?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You could never. Please?” Y/N’s eyes plead with the prince, and he forgets any notion of courtly manners or what is proper for two betrotheds as he comes to lay in her bed. Careful of her injuries, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her frame into his, and she rests her head against his chest, sighing in relief at returning home to him. There they lay, the future king and queen of the Seven Kingdoms, basking in each other’s warmth and thanking the gods for another day of safety in this war.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

RIDE EM', COWGIRL

tyler owens x f!reader word count: 1,168 warnings: SMUT! tornado sex?, riding, masturbation (both m & f), very sloppy writing, i was just horny after watching twisters okay lol synopsis: it's like he always says, you don't face your fears, you ride em' cowgirl...

 “You take it so fuckin’ well, fuck!”

 Rain pounds against the windows of the truck along with quarter to ping pong sized hail but she rides Tyler faster, his cock pounding faster against her cervix than the little balls of ice that strike the steel of the truck. Her fingernails etch hooks into his shoulders, reminiscent of the hook echo in the supercell on the radar behind her. His palms knead at her hips, guiding her up and down his length, her walls clenching around him. 

 “It’s headin’ east!” Boone’s voice emits from the comms and her hips slow, but Tyler’s hands tighten around them, heaving her up and down his cock himself. Her eyes roll and her head lolls, a string of curses tumbling past her lips. 

 “Come on, baby, almost fuckin’ there,” he mutters beneath his breath like it’s sacred prayer, canting his hips towards hers, bringing her within inches of her end. 

 “Tyler, shit!” She gasps, sinking her nails further into his skin, deep enough to draw blood. “Slow down! I can’t… I can’t fucking take it…”

 He shakes his head, a low rumble thundering deep in his chest like a crack of lightning. “Yes you can, come on,” he groans. “You do so well, takin' my cock so damn good.”

 “Tyler, the hell you doing? We got a vortex on the ground at your six, so are we ridin’ this thing or not?” Boone’s voice sounds from the comms again and Tyler hisses, pressing the pads of his fingers down into the flesh of her waist, hips angrily thrusting up into her. 

 A sob wracks her body and she slumps against him when his hips finally still, his cock sitting dormant inside of her. Every muscle aches in her body and her core practically screams for more, feeling the blisteringly white hot bliss she felt mere moments ago begin to slip away. Perspiration drips in beads down the slides of her face onto his sweat-slicked skin and she lets her lids flutter closed, feeling Tyler’s chest heave up and down beneath her cheek. 

 Tyler huffs and reaches for the transceiver, bringing it up to his lips. “Yeah, we’re ridin’.”

 Her eyelids snap open as Tyler practically shoves her into the passenger seat and she hisses when the back of her head meets the window. “Tyler!” She exclaims as he buckles himself into his harness, gesturing for her to do the same. 

 “Harness on, baby,” he snickers. “This ain’t your first rodeo.”

 As her orgasm slips further away, she scrambles to sit upright in her seat, buckling herself into her harness as Tyler shifts the truck into drive. She hardly has time to get herself properly fastened before she’s being jostled about, slippery palm struggling to find its grip on the handle above her head. 

 The truck bobs up and down against the unsteady ground it drives on, her thighs instinctively closing together at the friction against her core. Tyler glances over when she does, feeling his dick twitch until it’s unbearable— he can’t not take it into his fist. 

 She turns her head almost as soon as he does, feeling her stomach do a somersault as he pumps himself in one hand, steering the truck with the other.��

 “Tyler, we’re driving straight into a fuckin’ tornado right now and you’re jerking yourself off?” She asks with a dent between her brow and he turns, grinning as he does it. 

 “‘If you feel it, chase it,’ amirite?” He says with a wink and she’d admit— it makes her clit throb. He side-eyes her sore, puffy clit before turning back to the mass of churning wind in front of them. “You should really take care of your situation down there. It’s good for the nerves.”

 Blood bites her cheeks as he steers them closer to the tornado and all she can do is stare as he pumps himself, her own hand itching to be between her legs. Tyler drives them into the twister and she can’t fight it anymore, one hand sliding over her clit, the other tightening around the handle above her head. 

 Tyler’s laugh thunders the small interior of the truck, even as rain and wind and hail pound against the top of the vehicle. He anchors the truck into the ground and fires off the rockets, tightening his fist around his cock, tugging angrily, damn near ferally. 

 Tyler’s a fucking animal, anyone could see that. But he’s a whole new breed when they’re alone, absolutely primal. 

 The pads of her fingers race back and forth over her nub, her legs shaking as she brings herself back towards that edge Tyler nearly pushed her over moments before. His name stumbles past her lips in a whimper and she feels his hand snake around her head, bringing her closer. 

 “Fuck, come here,” he growls against her lips before enveloping them with his, his tongue like a bull she struggles to stay atop. There’s a knot building at the pit of her belly that’s on the precipice of rupturing, closer and closer with every flick of her fingers against her clit. 

 “Gettin’ close?” He asks against her mouth and she mewls, nodding. He grins against her lips, “do it.”

 The wind pounds against the steel of the truck and the vehicle rocks as the vortex twirls around them. She used to think this was crazy, absolutely utterly insane and it is— but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t equally exhilarating. She thinks risk is what she’s been missing all her life— and then she met Tyler. It seems risk has been her new normal ever since they started dating. 

 But this?

 This was unlike anything she’s ever done before. 

 When she finally felt herself tip over the edge and her orgasm wreaks havoc through her body, like a cyclone meeting the ground, carving a path into the earth in its wake. A loud string of curses tumble past Tyler’s lips as he, too, meets his end and they’re two identical supercells, spinning into one another until they become one. His mouth is a seal over hers, warm and wet when they meet. Her mind is numb with sex and all she can think to say is his name, chanting it over and over like it’s holy word. 

 The tornado dissipates around them and she can hear the crew cheer through the radios when Tyler finally pulls away, a thread of saliva a bridge between their lips. She falls limp against the back of her seat, the aftershocks of her release rattling her bones. 

 “You’re fuckin’ crazy, you know that, Owens?” She finally says once she’s come to and Tyler laughs beside her, caressing the side of her face with his knuckles. 

 “I always say, ‘you don’t face your fears, you ride em’, cowgirl,” He adds with a wink. Her eyes roll and she reaches for her panties he’d thrown in the backseat, pulling them up her legs. 

 “Jesus, you can’t get any cornier, can you?”

a/n; outing myself as an oklahoman (yes, i do in fact live in the sooner state unfortunately but maybe fortunately in this context lmfao) because the inner storm enthusiast inside of me is SCREAMING after watching twisters. please don't mind my sloppy ass writing here, i was just incredibly horny after watching it LMFAOOOOOO (this is also not proofread!)

🌪️ if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Lust for love. // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader.

Summary: Aemond's life has always been a bitter and sour one, the only sweet thing in his life was you, his wife, perhaps too sweet for his liking, yet he neglected you in the past but a series of events lead you both together into love.

WARNINGS: mdni, smut, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, interrupted orgasm, horny aemond, martial duties, clit stimulation, tiddy succin, body worship(?), gentle and kind aemond but he gets rough during sex, + not proofread, lmk if I missed any!

WC: 2.9k

A/N: divider credits @cafekitsune

The cold breeze brushed against Aemond's face as he walked hastily towards your chamber, his boots clacking against the stone floor heavily while his heart banged in his ribcage.

He was feeling light headed, unable to form any thoughts and only the words of the maester rang inside his skull from earlier. ‘Your lady wife seems to be sick’ he had informed him and those mere words were enough to make Aemond spurt up from his chair in the meeting room and immediately rush towards you.

Aemond, frankly, did not know why he was feeling anxious at the information that you were sick, he did not even like you much and only merely married you for the connections and benefits your family provided.

You were just a mere duty to him, so when did he start caring about you?

He stood in front of your chamber door waiting anxiously as the guard gave him a bow before he opened the door, the mental hinges creaking as it slowly moved. He steps inside hurriedly and immediately lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you sitting up. You just stare at him confused.

“Husband? What are you doing here?” The tone of your voice indicated surprise, because Aemond had never visited your chambers even once since the beginning of your marriage and only called you to his chamber when he wanted to consummate.

“I had been informed by the maester that you were sick.” He replies nonchalantly, tone betraying the true feelings that were whirling on the inside. He wanted to get close to you, embrace you.

“I'm not with child.” You reluctantly tell him while looking down, suddenly feeling as though you are a disappointment. It felt humiliating to tell him that, especially when he came all the way to your chambers, he probably expected that you would be with a child.

Except that was not the case.

Aemond was confused on why you were bringing up that topic now, but then it clicked in his head and he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention before shaking his head, “Oh no, wife, I wasn't here because of that.. I was worried.” He admits and your eyes widen in shock.

Worried for you?

For as long as you can remember Aemond never seemed the type to show affection or concern for anyone, perhaps it was due to his past grievances, you had only heard about his eye through rumours, he never opened up to you about anything. You were a duty for him, someone he needs a legitimate heir from; because it is not as though he doesn’t have whores to seek pleasure from so what is the use of you? ; or at least that is what you had assumed and questioned.

But to Aemond, you were his sweet gentle wife, he was afraid of hurting you, in his vision, you were like a white swan, pure, elegant and graceful, he did not want to scare you lest you fly away from him. He did not know when he started perceiving you in this way, but as time went on, he had developed quite a soft spot for you.

“My apologies, Lord husband, I did not intend to worry you.” You apologised, he shook his head gently. “No need to apologise, how are you feeling now?” He questions and you simply blink at him, “I'm well, better than before.” You reply with a soft smile. Aemond's lip curved upwards slightly as he nodded, “Very well.” He says in a dismissive tone.

Awkward silence falls between you both as you look down, he clears his throat before speaking, “If you'll pardon me- I have to—”

“Would you like to take a walk with me?” The question leaves your mouth in a hurry before you could stop it, a desperate attempt at clinging onto this fleeting moment of affection. He seems slightly taken aback but he nods his head, “I'd love to.” He replies and you nod, stepping in his direction and standing next to him. “Shall we go?” You inquire, “Yes, wife.” He answers and you wait for him to take the first step, which he does; and soon you follow him out of the room.

You both stroll down the garden, admiring the scenery, the breeze was gentle today, and the weather seemed perfect, Aemond linked your arm in his, holding you close to him.

Your skin was soft to the touch and it drove him insane, he couldn't help but stare at the way your breasts pushed up against the material of your dress, he never really properly fucked you like you deserve.

Yet now, he just wants nothing to do but push you against the castle wall and fuck you relentlessly in the garden. Aemond realised that he never heard you moan, or show any type of reaction when he consummated with you.

He wondered how your soft voice would shriek in pleasure, calling out his name in pleasure, how you'd cling so tightly to him, he wished he could witness such a sight. He wished he hadn't gone to whores to receive pleasure while he left his wife dry. He missed out on a lot of things due to his decisions.

He mentally made a note to stop visiting brothels as it would taint your honour, he could simply seek the same pleasure from you. He became more bothered as his imagination went wild.

“... husband…? husband…!” He snaps out of his imagination, looking at your confused expression, “Y-Yes? Please excuse me, I was lost in thought.” He apologises and you give him a soft smile, “You were saying something?” He asks and you nod, “I was thinking about; well; if you excuse my rudeness, I realised we don't know much about each other.” You truthfully tell him.

Aemond furrows his brows in question, “What do you mean by that wife?”

“I want to get to know you, husband.” You stare at him in the eye and his eye widens slightly, and just then he recalls the memory of Aegon's words.

“That woman in the brothel knows more about you than your own wife, don't you find it amusing?” He was taunting Aemond, and at that time Aemond ignored those words, but now that you've openly admitted that you don't know him much made his heart shatter.

“Of course wife, what do you wanna know?” He decides to let his guard down, ready to tell you whatever you ask for. “Everything.” You reply, biting your lip anxiously, your hand travels up to his face, caressing his cheek before you trail your thumb down his scar. He knew what that implication meant and he smiles at you in a gentle manner, his own hand coming up to grab your wrist.

“Of course.”

Days pass by just like that, your marriage with Aemond had improved tremendously after your little effort to get to know him better, you felt bad for him when he began to reveal such vulnerable things, yet you never judged him.

He had shown you all of his vulnerability so openly, from the matter of his eye to everything else. You listened in silence, and he appreciated that.

As Aemond grew more comfortable, he began to show his emotional side, which included both his vulnerability and anger. He would utter treasonous things about his own brother.

This night was one of those cold nights, the cold breeze flew into the martial chambers you were waiting in, the maids prepared you for the consummation as they do, you and Aemond consummate according to your moon cycle since your only duty is to provide him with a heir.

And besides, he probably did not want to lay with you in an intimate manner, or for pleasure. You felt insecure because of that.

You were scared that after all this progress, everything would return to the same way it was before because of this night, you doubted that it would happen but your thoughts plagued you.

You winced when you felt the maid tug at a hair strand accidentally, “Sorry my lady.” She apologises to you, “It is alright.” You respond softly, you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, eyes trailing down your features.

The door to the chamber opens, and Aemond strides in hurriedly, the maids quickly finish fixing you up and leave the room immediately, you get up from your seat and turn around to see Aemond undoing his clothes.

“Let me help you.” You offered, usually he would decline and continue to undress himself, and you expected that again, but his actions shocked you.

He immediately dropped his hands to the side and turned to look at you, waiting for you to walk over to him and help him. You blinked rapidly before rushing over to where he stood before you stood in front of him.

Your hands immediately began to work on removing his vest, your fingers delicately undid the loops, you were too focused on the job that you failed to notice Aemond's piercing gaze. He watched with intent as you worked on removing his clothes, his eye taking in your form. His breeches felt tight.

You pushed his coat off his shoulders and peeled away the vest, revealing his tunic beneath the layers, his garments fell to the ground with a shuffle, you stepped back, leaving him in his undergarments.

He grabbed the hem of his tunic before he pulled it off and then began to undo his breeches, untying the strings. You took that as a gesture to lay down on the bed, facing up.

This is what you did when you both consummated before, you would lay down, he would spread your legs, insert himself, finish and leave.

You expected that to be the case, but you were surprised when climbed on top of you, his face right in front of yours, platinum locks curtaining around you. He stared at your lips for a moment before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his.

You were surprised, and didn't know what to do, so you stayed still, but he bit your lip, indicating his disappointment at your freezing up, and so you immediately tried to mimic his movements.

Your lips danced against his, yet it couldn't match the fervent passion he moved with, it was desperate, intimate and most importantly, filled with love and lust.

All your prior insecurities melted away under his warm lips which were filled with desire and want, he wanted you, he seeked you out.

You both pulled away to catch your breaths, his lips were glossy from your saliva and slightly swollen. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest.

Aemond moved your night off your shoulder before ripping it apart, revealing your breasts which you immediately covered out of instinct. But he gently grabbed your wrists and pinned your hands to the side of your head.

He leaned down, tracing kissing down your jawline, to your neck and to the soft flesh of your chest. His hot breath against your bud made you shiver in delight.

He hooked his tongue on your hardened nipple before engulfing it with his mouth, you let out a squeal of surprise at his actions but you didn't stop him.

He suckled on it gently, using his teeth to trap the bud in between before licking it with his tongue, he grunted in delight, his grip loosening one of your hands, freeing it from his hold.

He grabbed your unoccupied breast with his now free hand, giving it soft squeezes and playing with the bud, rolling and pinching it. You were new to this, not having any understanding of what was happening, after all, you've only read about it, never experienced such intimate acts yourself.

You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, you realised how sticky the area felt, and how it made it difficult for the friction of rubbing to work.

He notices this, lets go of your breast with a pop, he smirks before he rises off from you and settles in between your legs, this was the position you were more used to.

He spreads your legs wide apart, pulling up your nightgown, revealing all of you. He pressed his thumb against your clit which made your breath, you stared at him confused until you felt him rub small circles upon it.

Your body felt pangs of delightful stimulation, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling, all of this was foreign to you. Aemond takes a deep breath before he closes in on your cunt, before licking a stripe upwards to your clit. You jolt from the sudden pleasure.

Aemond wrapped his lips around it, sucking on the bud slowly, you whined, grabbing his head for support as his mouth worked wonders down there. You tasted absolutely divine to Aemond, your essence trailing down his cheek as your body produced so much of it. You whimpered, thrashing around lightly as his warm tongue flickered with your bud.

Aemond's tongue swirled around your clit before he captured it with his mouth once again; “Oh! Yes!” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure when you felt him nibble on your bud. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth rose in your lower abdomen, you felt as if there was a fire inside you, waiting to combust any moment.

Just when you feet the flames beginning to erupt, Aemond stops his manoeuvres, putting out the fire, you furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why he stopped.

But when you looked at Aemond, he seemed like an entirely different being at that moment, he had risen up back to his haunches again taking deep breaths almost as if he was trying to contain himself.

He was.

He had never felt such an overwhelming of desire in his body, every time he touched you; his mind scrambled into pieces, he wanted to fuck you so badly.

“Aemond?” You call out softly, confused, wondering if he was disappointed by your behaviour but it seems to snap him out of his daze and he stares at you. “I apologise; I'm finding it hard to control myself.” He admits his thoughts.

“Then don't.”

Aemond swore he heard you wrong.

“What?” He questions you.

“Don't try to Aemond, Don't hold yourself back, I want this, I want you.” You admit shyly.

The atmosphere fell silent for a second and you could feel the awkwardness from your own words beginning to sink in, that was until Aemond moved suddenly.

You shrieked as he pulled your hips onto his lap, wasting no time in inserting himself, you gasped at the sudden stretch, feeling yourself become full of him. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support.

He held your waist tightly, grabbing onto your hips for leverage as he began to move, thrusting himself in and out.

This was a movement you were familiar with, yet somehow it still feels new because of the strange sensation, it felt more intimate and passionate, his thrusts held meaning and it was as if every time he pushed inside you; he was reaffirming his love and desire for you.

He pushed you into the mattress, grabbing your legs and shoving them to your chest as he thrusted hard, his skin slapped against yours loudly, the room echoing the noises.

You threw your head back at the sensation, and you felt the fire in your stomach rekindle and you couldn't help but desperately chase it. “Ah, right there.” You moaned, feeling him hit a sweet spot inside you that fueled the fire in you, you gasped for air as every thrust of his knocked it out of your lungs. “You feel so good, you're driving me insane, wife.” Aemond grunts, his thrusts never once faltering.

Everything about this night together was very different from the previous ones, Aemond had never felt this good and neither have you, he regrets not trying to get to know you earlier. He felt like he was in heaven with the way you clenched around him.

He felt his high approaching, and he desperately ran after it thrusting deeper inside as he groaned and moaned.

Your body jolted up and down the bed and you felt the fire beginning to spread out slowly, you closed your eyes, when you felt the fire suddenly go out, you were confused but as Aemond thrusted one more time it erupted in your body like volcano, coursing through your veins and to your mind.

You moaned loudly, grabbing the sheets and arching your back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intensity, you have never felt this way before.

Your vision went completely white before you could see once again, you felt Aemond finish inside you, his cocking twitching as he spurted his seed deep inside you.

“Seven hells.” He groans, riding his orgasm off, you watch as he clenches his eye shut taking deep breaths.

He looked so ethereal.

He immediately falls down next to you, catching his breath, he pulls you close and kisses you on the forehead, “You did so well for me.” He praises you, and you blush shyly.

Neither of you moved from the bed, having no intention to.

Typically Aemond would leave the room right after.

Yet he didn't.

He was stroking your shoulder gently as you dozed off, head resting on his shoulder.

He looks at your closed eyelids and thinks you're asleep.

“I love you.” He confesses, realising his true feelings.

Your lips quirk up into a smile before you open your eyes slightly.

“I love you too.”

You then doze off into slumber immediately, Aemond's heart picks up its pace, embarrassed and shy that you had heard him, but your response made him smile.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

accidental i love you’s during sex is sooo steve harrington it’s unbelievable…..

Oh fuck yeah. I'm stoned as shit right now so I got you.

MDNI Steve HarringtonxFem!Reader FWB/Friends to Lovers CW: recreational drug use, choking, unprotected sex, p in v sex, creampie

Banner by @inklore

It started as a drunken mistake — hooking up with your best friend.

You and Steve had one too many beers in the parking lot of Family Video after work and ended up in the back seat of his car, windows fogged up and messy handprints leaving evidence of your tryst.

It wasn't a mistake the second time though, or the third.

You and Steve are one too many joints deep after your closing shift together now, the race back to your house was a near bloodbath as you tore at each other’s clothes and gnashed at each other’s flesh. He’s pressed against your back, moving fluidly against you. His breath hot on your ear but chilling your spine, his hips snapping forward to bury you deeper into the mattress.

Steve gets pissed off at work. He needs an outlet, and you’re happy to be just that.

With another rut of his hips, his palm ricochets off of your ass.

“Fuck!” He curses.

His other hand is hooked around your front, fingers lodged deep in your throat. You’ve been drooling around his digits, mouth wide open so that you don’t accidentally scrape him with your teeth.

“Oh my g-fuck…” Steve grinds into you, pushing the swollen head of his cock against the back of your needy cunt.

It’s hours of this. This give and take. This violent brutality pushing you to the edge and then his soothing ministrations tugging you back.

“I fucking love this,” he accentuates his words with a kiss to your shoulder, another stroke of his cock against your walls. “Fucking love it-mmf..”

He tugs his hips backwards just to slam into you again.

“Love this pussy,” he continues, hand creeping over your hip to stroke between your thighs.

“I love this fucking voice,” Steve’s fingers slip out of your mouth and a gush of saliva follows, then you’re gasping for air.

His hand travels down your throat and squeezes the columns gently. You can tell by the twitch of his hips that he’s edging on delirium.

“Love fucking you. Oh my god," His knee shifts, and suddenly his weight is pressing into you. Burying you against sweat-soaked sheets. His teeth scrape against your shoulder and dig into anywhere they can fit: your bicep, your shoulder blade, your neck. He's sinking into you as if you'll never see each other again, as if the world is ending just outside.

"I love you.”

You hear the words, but grenades are detonating in your ears. Steve's precise fingers work frantically between your thighs, toying with your overstimulated clit as you squirm and writhe beneath him.

His hips jerk, he's swelling inside of you, and then you hear it again.

"Fuck, I love you..."

You hear it in the far off corner of your mind as your release hits, and those words carry something with them. Something warm and safe that hadn't been included in this arrangement before. It cradles you during your comedown, provides that cushion between Steve's heavy body and yours and his breath begins to quicken in your ear.

A moment later, it's over. Steve stills inside of you, his length beginning to soften and then slip out, followed by the gush of his release. He's getting heavier, it's getting harder to breathe, and there's a laugh stored in your chest that you can't hold for much longer.

Steve presses a tender kiss to the shell of your right ear and you smile.

"Should we talk about—" You begin.

A breath finally enters your lungs as Steve rolls off of you.

"Nope!" He answers while falling onto his back.

Sweat clings to his chest hair and shimmers in the yellow light provided by the lamp that illuminates the room from the corner. He doesn't ask for permission, this is all routine by now. Steve closes his eyes and throws out his arm, waiting for you to join him at the rib for a post-coital cuddle.

"Well, yes. Tomorrow." He continues.

Finally, that laugh escapes you.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

It’s her or nothing (Steve Harrington confess his love to his best friend)

He couldn't want anyone else. It wasn't a case of choice, like he had woken up and decided she was the love of his life, it had just come about that way. She was it.

How could Steve ever love another girl like he loved her, there was no one else he would want to talk on the phone with for hours, until the cord lines were indented on his hand from wrapping it around his fingers. There was no one else he would stand in the rain for without a coat just because they looked cold, because they ever so slightly shivered and he couldn’t take them being uncomfortable. 

It was a nightmare and he was stuck in it. This girl was his friend. This girl probably regarded him the same way she did everyone else. Steve couldn’t imagine her staring at him when he wasn’t looking or thinking about his voice right before she went to bed.

But all of this seemed slightly less important tonight. He just can’t take it anymore. He needs her to know, even if it means nothing to her.

He felt like he was going mad coming over here, like his consciousness was slipping in and out. And yet, he was still standing here, in the rain because of course it had to rain when he was making his romantic confession. He couldn't even recall crossing the street.

It's dark out, and God knows what time of night it is. He's sitting on her front steps, waiting for her to come out. Steve had called her before leaving his house, with-, oh, with odd shoes on. At least one was right and one was left. He told her he had to talk to her, her sleepy voice had placed one more dagger in his heart as she asked him if anything was wrong. He said no, he just said through his stuttering that he needed to see her. 

His jeans were soaked through, turning much darker than they used to be, his hair was sticking to the back of his neck. But it was hard to care about catching a cold at this moment. This was the moment he had chosen to tell her he loved her, that his worst fear was anything happening to her, that she’s all he’ll ever want.

The front door opened and closed and Steve couldn’t turn around just yet, so he waited for her to sit beside him. She had a jacket thrown over her pyjamas, they were pink and white, like her slippers and he couldn't help but smile. They looked so soft, so her. 

“Steve what's going-”

“I just have to get this out okay, or I might never be able to say it. Please just let me?” He begged. She nodded. 

It came down to this. He didn’t have a chance to ask if himself if he was ready, he was already doing it. 

“I have this picture of you, with our friends, but I mostly just see you in it. It’s on my bedside table, in some frame I can’t remember buying. You’re smiling, with your eyes as well as your lips and you look so happy in it. I’m not there, I was taking it. But I can remember that day really well, because I fell in love with you that day. You smiled, you laughed, you brushed past me in someone's kitchen and I knew that I would always feel you everywhere. Because, even if I’m not for you, you’re the one. You’ve been the one all this time and I never tried to deny that because it would’ve been impossible. I just-, I don’t want anyone else like I want you.”

Steve had been staring at her knees the entire time, he had to. He couldn’t take looking at her face. What if she hated him now, what if he had lost her friendship. Why did he do this? Why did he come over? He couldn't even remember what had made him pick now to do this? He should’ve died having not told her that-

He suddenly felt her touch. He felt her hand on his cheek. Her lips on his. She was warm, he guessed he was probably rather cold in comparison. He kissed her back, he didn’t tell himself to, it just happened. His body knew what to do. His soul knew he needed to kiss her with everything he had. 

“Steve-” He pulled away the second he heard her say his name against lips. His heart was in his throat waiting for her to speak. “I-I haven't had time to think about what I want to say.” Her brows pressed together, she was thinking, trying to place her thoughts into words for him. “I-” He was holding his breath now too. “I love you, Steve. I've always loved you, you're you. You're it.”

He had made the right decision to come here. And he was never going to second guess himself again.

[imaginationgonewild0912]

Aemond’s betrothed is threatened, and he will stop at nothing to save her.

Content Warnings: violence, blood, mature, 18+

Soft footfalls were enough to wake you from your light slumber. Through you were not yet married, it was rare that Aemond did not find sleep in your bedchambers at night.

So, you assumed it was Aemond, come to join you at last, when you heard the footsteps approaching.

Your groggy mind took too long to process that it was two sets of footprints, not one.

Sitting up, you pulled the blanket to cover your night gown, and watched as two strange men entered your room.

“Guards!” you screamed immediately, and the taller man laughed, revealing rotting teeth. You winced at the sight and sound.

“They won’t be coming, Princess. Not til we’re done with you, at least,” he snarled, and they approached your bed.

Frantically, you tried to scramble to the head of the bed, meaning to get your footing and make a run for it, but they were on you, daggers drawn, before you could get anywhere.

The smaller one, who could not be much older than you at nine and ten, grabbed your ankle, and roughly pulled you from the bed.

You hit the stone floor with a thud and a grunt, sharp pain emanating from your elbow and hip, before he grabbed your arm, hoisting you up so you were face to face with him.

“Who sent you?” you asked.

They must have been inexperienced in this sort of nefarious activity as he replied eagerly, “The Black Queen.”

You shook your head, in disbelief that your cousin would want this fate for you, no matter how bitter the blood was between you now.

His knife was at your belly, pressing gently. “Come with quietly,” he hissed, and you shook your head.

The blade pierced skin then, and he covered your mouth to keep you quiet. Fear was like lead in your belly, keeping you frozen to the spot.

Over his shoulder, you glanced at the older assailant, just as a sword passed through his neck, severing his head from his body with precision and ease.

Seeing the look in your eyes, the man holding you turned, and dropped you at the sight of his partner’s headless corpse.

“Please-“ he began, raising his hands and dropping his blade, but Aemond was not one to listen.

The Dowager Queen burst into the room then, followed by the head of the king’s guard, and you ran to them. Alicent opened her arms, pulling you to her chest, and you sank to the floor together as Ser Cole joined Aemond.

Your body was shaking violently, and you clung to Aemond’s mother as she whispered to you in hushed tones.

“Don’t dispatch him yet, Aemond. We need information from him,” Ser Cole was saying.

“They said, they said that, they told me,” you stuttered, and Alicent pushed your hair from your face.

“Breathe, child,” she said.

“They said Rhaenyra sent them. I don’t believe them,” you said, and the former Queen frowned at you, and looked to Aemond.

She nodded once, and you heard the whistle of a sword through the air. You did not turn to see as Alicent pulled you up, and lead you out the room.

xx

Though the Queen insisted on bringing you to her rooms, Aemond convinced her that you would feel safer with him, and she relented - after all, the wedding was in three days. It was only slightly improper, given the circumstances.

Aemond all but carried you to his rooms, and instructed a bath be drawn. As you waited for the hot water, he held you, pressing your head into his chest, whispering that it was safe now.

“I may need a maester,” you said, pulling away. You removed your night clothes to reveal a cut, long but not severely deep, just below your naval. Your elbow was also bruising quickly, with a matching blooming mark on your hip.

Aemond’s eyes lit with renewed rage. “Would that I could kill them twice, and savor it the second time,” he hissed, and called for a maester.

No stitches were required, and so you were cleaned and bandaged, and it was to be a sponge bath instead of a submersion.

You were too worn out to be embarrassed as you stood next to the hot bath that you so desperately wanted to sink into while, with painstaking care, Aemond cleaned every inch of you, from head to toe.

He was silent all the while, a reverent concentration on his face. Were you not still trembling with fear, it may have been one of the most erotic experiences of your life.

When he was finished, he dressed you in one of his under shirts, and led you to bed.

“Come, wife,” he said, pulling you into the warm cradle of his arms. “No harm will come to you now.”

Tears finally pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you could not hold them back. The flowed over your cheeks and onto Aemond’s bare chest, and try as he might to wipe them away, they were coming to fast.

“We will double your guard. I will do anything to make you feel safe. I will not leave your side again. Where I go, you go too,” he said, and the thought of that did ease the panic in your chest.

“Thank you for saving me,” you managed to say, and he tilted your face up to his. He placed a gentle kiss on your wet nose, and then your forehead, and both cheeks.

“In this life and the next, I will always keep you safe. I’m only sorry I did not arrive sooner.”

You held his waist tight, feeling a little safer in his arms, knowing the guards outside were doubled and your protector was here in bed with you.

“Sleep now, beloved. I will never leave you again.”

You closed your eyes, and finally allowed sleep to creep up on you, tucked safely into Aemond’s embrace.