#and it's such a pity‚ really‚ that he promised not to keep secrets; he HAS to inform his brothers

[iwillkeepfighting]

"Please stop, I'll do anything," the pitiful excuse of a henchman blubbers. Don watches out of the corner of his eye for a few minutes, not once pausing as he types his way to the man's financial and societal ruin in digital form. Finally, patience wearing thin, he extends the smallest offer of mercy (the only one he's going to get). "Don't beg me; I've already written you off," he informs the man. "Beg my brothers. Maybe one of them will think up a convincing case on your behalf."

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 

Holy Shit. 

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 

“You aren’t serious.” 

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 

You knew better though. 

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 

It was worrisome. 

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞

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[brokenmenswhore]

lessons | aegon ii targaryen

pairings: aegon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: in search on the streets of silk for your husband, you find his brother in a compromising position

warnings: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), i’ve never written smut before so that’s a warning in itself

part 2

────── ☾ ──────

“Where is Aemond this morning?” you asked.

“I do not know, My Lady,” your handmaiden answered answered, “my apologies. He has not been seen since right after supper.”

You nodded.

You always felt a disconnect from your husband, your marriage existing mostly for political reasons. You weren’t sure where he went at night, but you had your suspicions, and you weren’t attached to him enough to let them bother you. You actually found yourself more attracted to his older brother, but he was already married, so it couldn’t matter.

Your handmaidens prepared you for the day before allowing you to leave your apartment.

“I think tonight we should all have breakfast together, don’t you?” Alicent spoke from behind you as you walked down the Red Keep halls.

Her voice caught you off guard. “Your Grace, yes, I think that would be nice.”

She smiled. “I think now, more than ever, we need to stress the importance of family. If you could wrangle in that husband of yours, it would be greatly appreciated. I already told Aegon, but he’s run off of course.”

“I will do my best,” you promised her.

She gave your arm a squeeze before walking away, the Commander of the King’s Guard close behind her.

Trying to find Aemond was almost useless. He grew up in King’s Landing, and knew every secret passageway, every shop, every darkened corner- and you barely knew your way around the Red Keep alone. You didn’t know King’s Landing, and you couldn’t outsmart them if you tried. But you knew men.

“Liyana,” you whispered, shuffling back into your room. Your handmaiden was rearranging the bed when she looked up at you. “Yes?”

“How do I get to the Street of Silk?”

Liyana’s eyes widened and she inhaled a deep breath. “My Lady, do forgive me, but whatever would you need there?”

You sighed, wanting to get along with this search, suspecting Aemond to be there every night, not realizing your handmaiden would be such an obstacle to overcome.

“I have my reasons, I promise, please. I don’t know my way around King’s Landing. I trust you. I need you,” you begged, “please. I think my husband is there. I need to retrieve him. Please.”

Liyana took pity on you and the desperation in your voice. “Quickly, if anyone sees you there it will bring even more gossip toward the Targaryen name. And I am only doing this because I like you.”

You gave Liyana and thankful smile as she fetched hooded robes to travel through the streets. While a few months ago, you could remain anonymous, the whole of King’s Landing attended Prince Aemond Targaryen’s wedding, and you are unfortunately not hard to spot, as the only (honorary) Targaryen without the staple silver hair.

“Luckily Aemond can’t be hard to miss,” you whispered to Liyana, “the man is a giant.”

This caused Liyana to giggle. She had never done something like this, and never been treated so friendly by someone she had to serve.

The further into the street you walked, the louder the moans got. At every turn, there was a woman crying out in pleasure, a pleasure you didn’t understand. You had had sex, once, on your wedding night and it was nothing like what you were witnessing. Were these woman okay? Were you the one who wasn’t okay? Was this how men wanted their wives? Why wouldn’t Aemond just tell you this?

You felt strange peeking into the rooms with cracked doors, through every curtain, into every crevice with bodies to check for Aemond.

“I must return, please, My Lady. Will you be safe?” Liyana questioned.

“Yes, I will be just fine. Thank you for your assistance. Return safely,” you replied.

Liyana smiled and walked away.

You continued scanning every street corner to no avail, until you decided to check the brothels. You didn’t really want to go in one, but you figured Aemond would know better than to be so obvious with his infidelities.

You snuck into one of the brothels, feeling gross about creeping on every couple or throuple, but anyone who caught you looking didn’t seem to mind. You peeked through one cracked door, and that’s when you saw him.

Aegon was laying naked on the bed, a girl in between his legs, his cock down her throat. You gasped but quickly covered your mouth to avoid being heard.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. You watched as a sigh left his lips, head thrown back as he grabbed the back of the woman’s head.

A part of you felt constant pangs of jealousy, but a part of you felt… good? There was an inexplicable throbbing between your legs that you couldn’t place.

Aegon bunched up the woman’s hair and began to push and pull her up and down, groaning and whimpering as he did so. His other arm held him up on his elbow, watching what the woman was doing to him. It was like nothing you’d ever seen.

That’s when someone bumped into your back, pushing you into the door, causing you to stumble through the door.

The woman halted, trying to pull her mouth off of him, but Aegon held her on. He didn’t stop for anything, looking you straight in the eyes while he continued to move her head up and down.

You coughed and began to turn out of the room. “I- uh, I’m just-“ you pointed out the doorway, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna go.”

You rushed out of the brothel, realizing you had no clue where you were. You spun around a few times before completely giving up, ready to just ask the woman at the front of the door how to get back to the Red Keep.

“Y/N!” Aegon called, running out the door in hopes of catching you.

You hid your face from him, blush obvious and a statement of how ashamed you felt.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asked casually, as if you didn’t just see what you just saw.

“I was looking for Aemond,” is all you could say.

“All the way down here?” Aegon tsked, “not likely.”

This frustrated you. “No, I really was! I figured he was here. I was just looking for him when I saw-“

Aegon gave you a wide grin, waiting for you to finish the sentence. “When you saw what?”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

Aegon sighed in such annoyance at the title that he actually threw his head back and then walked closer to you.

“If you call me ‘Your Grace’ or ‘My King’ one more time-“

“You’ll what?” you retorted.

Aegon had always hated when you called him by a proper title. It always made him angry, and he always threw his hands up before saying something like, “fuck, would you just call me Aegon? For the millionth time-“

Aegon smiled. “Do you understand what you just saw?”

The question caught you off guard. You didn’t really want to answer it, but you knew there was no way out of this, and besides, Aegon probably knew the way home. “No.”

“Do you wish to?”

“Do I wish to what?” you asked for elaboration.

“Do you wish to understand?”

It felt as if there was a right answer and a wrong answer, but seven hells if you weren’t inclined to pick the wrong answer. You hadn’t found Aemond, which means he may not be committing infidelities after all, but you also hadn’t checked every brothel. Even if he was cheating, does that mean you could? Your marriage felt like nothing more than a legally binding contract, so was it even really cheating?

“Aemond doesn’t have to know.”

You looked at Aegon and contemplated his words. “Is he here?”

“How should I know?”

“I don’t know, you’re related.”

“You’re married to him.”

You raised your eyebrows in a “fair enough” kind of way. You wanted to understand so bad, to act on this excitement you felt when you saw him in there with her, but you were so scared.

“What happens on this street is not for the Red Keep, Y/N,” Aegon spoke, gently moving your hair to one side, “it can be just you and me.”

You nodded your head yes as Aegon led you to the room you had caught him in. The woman was still in there, waiting for his return.

“Get out,” he commanded, eyes never leaving yours.

“Me?” the woman asked.

His eyes were still on you when he said, “yes. Out.”

He held coins out in his hand for her to grab as she passed, exiting the room and allowing Aegon to close the door.

“Does doing this kind of stuff make you feel better?” you asked, curious as to what he was doing down here so early in the morning, especially when you knew he was dealing with a lot.

“In more ways than one, darling.”

The pet name made you shiver.

“What has Aemond taught you?” he asked.

You looked at him confused. “How to make a babe.”

“That’s it?” he asked in disbelief.

“I really don’t know what more there would be to it then that,” you admitted honestly.

Aegon sighed at your innocence. There was a whole world of pleasure out there that he could teach you about.

“Do you trust me?” Aegon asked.

“Yes.”

Aegon removed your hooded cloak and made quick work of anything on your torso, leaving your breasts exposed. He quickly attached his mouth to one, sucking like it had been forever since he was given what he needed. This you didn’t need an explanation for. Aegon’s mommy issues were obvious.

Once he made significant work of almost bruising your boobs, he stood back up, and moved his face toward yours.

“Fuck, Y/N, please let me kiss you.”

All the tension that had been building in you from the second you saw him that first time, ethereal, seated on the Iron Throne, came crashing down. You grabbed his head and pulled him into a heated kiss, not even allowing time for anything soft or gentle. Aegon moaned into your mouth, one of his hands finding its way to your underclothes. He began to very gently rub on top of your underclothes, causing you to squeak into the kiss.

“Sh, angel, it’s okay, it’s supposed to feel like that. Have you never touched yourself here?”

You blushed. “To- ha- myself?”

“Again, I just can’t find it in me to believe you.”

You let out a soft whimper as Aegon’s hand made it’s way under your small clothes, a finger running up and down right in between your folds. Your legs buckled a bit from the pleasure and sensation of the unfamiliar touch, and you grabbed Aegon’s shoulders. He noticed your struggle, and pushed you until you were back against a wall.

“Feel good?” he checked.

“Mhm,” was all you could get out.

“Use your words, angel,” he commanded, “tell me it feels good.”

You let out a moan. “It f- feels good.”

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, moving further down to slowly insert his middle finger into your soaking wet hole.

You gasped, not used to the unfamiliar sensation. He simply watched you, seeing how your face contorted with every push and pull of his finger, as his thumb began to rub circles on your clit. He leaned down to kiss your neck, biting down hard before licking and kissing at the bruise. You instinctively threw your head back, giving him more access to your neck as he continued to touch you. You let out whimper after whimper, but that wasn’t enough for Aegon.

He pulled his hand out, pushing your underclothes all the way down and directing you to lay on the bed.

“What you just saw?” he started, “it feels like this, but for me.”

You were about to ask what he meant when he grabbed your thighs, forcibly holding them apart as his tongue licked a long strip in between your legs. He couldn’t resist immediately eating you like a man starved, tongue twirling and flicking like he was deranged and his only sanity was watching you come.

He re-entered a finger into your hole, mouth still focused on your clit, and then entered another finger into your hole, curling both when they were fully inserted.

You remembered what you had just walked in on, and you grabbed the back of Aegon’s head, lightly pulling on his hair. Aegon moaned at the pulling, sending vibrations straight through your core, causing you to shiver.

He continued his assault on you until you felt a strange and unfamiliar feeling, like all the tension in your body was rising at a rapid rate.

“I feel you, angel, let go for me.”

At his words, the tension broke, and you came onto his fingers. He left them inside of you until your legs stopped shaking, pulling them out and making eye contact with you before he put both fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean of your juices.

You took a second to reset, but when you did, you sat up and said, “do we switch places now?”

“Catching on quickly, I see,” Aegon smiled, “you ready to learn?”

You nodded, sinking to your knees as he sat with his legs hanging off the bed.

“You have to be a good girl for me, can you do that?” Aegon asked you, and the question went straight to your core.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Aegon.”

“Try again.”

You looked up at him. He constantly told you not to call him by a title and insisted you only called him Aegon. Was it because the title ignited something within him?

“Yes, My King.”

“Perfect,” he hummed.

After giving his cock a few strokes, he reached out for your hand. “Put this hand here,” he said, showing you how to grab the base of his length with your right hand, “and you can move your hand up and down when your mouth can’t take all of me.”

“So I just- do it?” you asked.

“If you’d like,” Aegon said.

You licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the head, opened your mouth, and began sinking onto his length.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “good job, just watch your teeth. Hollow out your cheeks, good girl.”

You did as he said, getting a bit more comfortable with how to perform the act. You began experimenting with moving faster, and with moving your tongue around, licking the tip of his cock as you bobbed your head.

Aegon grabbed your head, just as he did the woman, and started to take liberties with his own pleasure. He threw his head back, whines leaving his lips as he began to hit the back of your throat. You gagged, but he quickly worked to calm you down, saying “relax, baby, that’s part of it, just breathe through your nose- fuck.”

You continued to obey, doing whatever he suggested, until you felt the muscle spasm and a hot, bitter liquid hit the back of your throat.

Aegon held your head for another moment, ensuring everything had gone into your mouth before pulling out.

Even when he pulled out, he moved to hold your mouth closed as he said, “swallow.” You did as he asked before he loosened his grip. “Good girl.”

You stayed there, on your knees, waiting for his next instruction. He stood up, tucked his cock back into his breeches, and held out his hand to assist you up. You looked at him confused, having not even gotten to the part you actually knew.

“Angel, it’s early and we have a breakfast to attend, I can teach you more later.”

[saerins]

[ ೀ pucker up, buttercup | itoshi sae ]

ೀ content: female reader, fluff, sae and reader are adults, pet names (sae’s choice of words are stupid/idiot, calls reader ‘my girl’), alcohol, slightly suggestive at the end. | wc 1.5k | notes: okay did a very quick drabble for sae for christmas !! merry christmas to you guys <3

ೀ summary: being sae’s girlfriend is tough. there’s a lot of things he can’t make time for, and unfortunately this time, it’s you. but somehow, he always pulls through.

it’s christmas eve and you’re at your company function, looking at the fruits of your hard labour.

the event hall is decked with christmas decorations; stockings lining the walls and corresponding to different names for everyone’s secret santa to gift accordingly, christmas lights surrounding every table, everyone getting their fair share of the catering you’d arranged.

“this is amazing,” your boss gushes as she excitedly throws her arms around you. she’s only a few years older than you, so it’s not all too surprising that she’s always super friendly with you.

“relax on the alcohol, okay?” you joke with her, smelling the liquor already.

she pouts at you, batting her eyelashes. “oh c’mon, are you still upset that your boyfriend couldn’t make it for christmas?”

you sigh, though you keep a strong front, smiling through it. being the private girlfriend of an international soccer superstar is tough; he has to miss holidays and special occasions and more often than not you can’t even get your calls through because he’s just that busy. you’d been excited for this year’s christmas though, because he had said he’d be able to fly back home this time.

but as it turns out, his manager—who so happens to love overworking him—has other plans. so all of that excitement just went down the drain. still, what else can you say to him other than good luck with it? you knew being his girlfriend was going to be tough, but it’s starting to take a toll after feeling like you barely exist in his world.

still, you stare at the message he last sent you.

i love you.

and you go soft. soft, because you know he means it. soft, because despite everything, you believe in the man you fell in love with. the one who gave you your first kiss back in high school, the one who’s so awkward that even initiating to hold hands last time had his entire face beet red. the one who never fails to assure you that in spite of the distance, he’s always still thinking of you.

you fiddle with your necklace, the promise ring sae gave you when you were back in high school sitting around your neck like it always has.

in between all the long distance arguments and the time differences and the i miss you, wish you were here with me, you still find yourself hopelessly in love with itoshi sae. even when your friends say they can’t imagine being in your shoes, even when numerous tabloids love to put models or athletes as your competition, you know there’s still no one else you’d rather be with than him.

“i’m fine, really,” you assure your boss, prying her off of you and then adjusting her so her arm is around your shoulder as you lead her to her stocking. “here, why don’t you busy yourself and see what your secret santa got you?”

you really just want to distract your boss so she wouldn’t accidentally end up throwing you a pity party. all you want to do today is to make it through it, spend the first hour of christmas day rounding up the party and then get home and sleep your day away. it’ll distract you from the absence of your boyfriend anyway.

as you watch your boss happily open up whatever’s in her stocking, you wonder if your secret santa got you anything. (of course, some secret santas are dicks and end up not getting their person anything.) so count yourself lucky when you open up your stocking to find both a gift and a card.

amused, you rip the card out of its envelope, your heart skipping a beat when you see that inside of it, there’s a picture of you and sae as high school kids, beside each other, his face deadpan while you’re grinning from ear to ear, resting your head against his shoulder. the message reads: i love you so much it’s stupid.

you’re still in shock but you open up the little gift box, maroon with a green bow on it. when you see what’s inside, you can’t help but chuckle.

holding it above you, under the light, you can see the words hey, stupid engraved on the side of the fake mistletoe before feeling a warm pair of arms wrapping around your waist from behind, cold lips catching you off guard as they press themselves against yours.

it fills you up inside, takes all the weight off your shoulders. you’ll recognise him anywhere, without having to look or hear, the way his lips feel against yours, how he holds you gently against him, laughing softly against your lips as you pull him closer to you by the collar.

never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see your boyfriend in japan, let alone at your work party of all places, and now here you both are, kissing under the mistletoe.

“woah relax there,” he teases you, pulling away but still holding you close.

he’s here, he’s actually here. his hair’s in a mess, and there are circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling. he’s smiling at you and he’s here with you and you don’t even feel the tears forming in your eyes because you’re too busy relishing in the moment.

“itoshi sae,” you call out to him, your hands patting on his body, his black coat and his scarf are real and he’s here—he’s really here. “i thought you were too busy to come back…”

how long has it been now since you’d last seen him? a year? perhaps longer? he’s been so busy nowadays that you wondered at one point if he would even come back to you at all.

sae sighs, holding your cheeks in his hands as he presses his forehead against yours. “i’m sorry,” he says tensely, shaking his head slightly. “i was away for so long, and i just…” his teal eyes stare into yours, both your eyelashes dancing against one another. “i missed you, and i just wanted to see you.”

you’re laughing in disbelief, still holding him close because you’re just that afraid that this’ll all be an illusion that might soon slip away. “and they just let you off like that? that simple?”

he presses his lips into a firm line, averting his gaze. “let’s just say that they weren’t happy about it but i’m the important one, so…” he smiles, genuinely, putting an arm around. “they don’t have a choice but to let me come home to see my girl.”

turns out, he’d called in a favour to your boss, asked her about christmas plans because he knew from your texts that you were in charge of putting it all together. and then he asked her to put the gifts in your stocking. and you laugh hearing about it, because you’re thinking of how your life could’ve gone a totally different way. you could’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else who wouldn’t do this much for you, wouldn’t make time for you, wouldn’t travel across the world and put their own things down all in the name of meeting you.

“what’re you thinking about, stupid?”

you look into his eyes, shaking your head. “nothing, it’s nothing, i just- i love you, itoshi sae.” you smile, and sae smiles too because he loves how your smile reaches your eyes. and he loves being the reason you smile so he’s going to keep being that—and he makes a promise to himself to make you happy for life. but maybe that’s a gesture for next time. right now, he just wants to spend the rest of the holidays with you.

the clock strikes twelve, and he steals the mistletoe from you, holding it up between the two of you again, wincing from how cheesy it is after he does it, earning a chuckle from you.

“merry christmas, idiot.” and he kisses you again, long and slow and completely oblivious to everyone else that’s there who are staring and clapping—half of them still in awe that the itoshi sae is here and half of them in shock after putting two and two together that he’s your special guy.

“so, you’re gonna be here till new years’?” you ask in between kisses.

sae nods, “at least, why?”

you grin, pulling him by the belt as you lead him out of the event hall. “think it’s time we get home and just spend it between the two of us, yeah?”

sae laughs, letting you drag him along, wondering whether by this time next year, will he be lucky enough to call you his wife?

but when he sees that promise ring he gifted you still nestling snug around your neck, he has no doubt. you’re each other’s for life. and you’re worth every single risk he has to take.

[eveledoze]

spoilers for ep7 ! things about N and Uzi i wanted to point out 2/?

I like that he smiled at Nori's words, as if he himself met his old friend. but in reality it's not that cool. he seemed familiar to her, so did she see him before? again thoughts that it was he who killed her body huh (while her heart remained alive)

Nori turned out to be not as silly and playful as we all thought (which is sad a lil bit), but on the other hand she is quite a badass and confident woman. and it makes me wonder more about what she saw in Khan... but hey, despite some time apart she calls him hunk! i hope that if she is reunited with him, she will find a new body for herself, since it will be awkward to meet only the heart of your wife-

hearing N say Khan's name, Nori becomes tense. what kind of friends does my daughter have huh

after Nori tells a little story, N acts sweet and friendly as always, clapping for her, and Nori throws a rock at him, telling him to stop. i love how much she looks like her daughter, she does things to make N stop doing stupid things btw it’s funny that she, being a small body, chained him, such a big one, to the wall with a pickaxe for safety

when she asks who is the host of the solver at the moment, N smiles slightly, saying "Uzi", despite the fact that the situation is tense

ok, I didn’t understand this moment right away, but now I understand. "which one (Doll or Uzi) tried to eat us right now?" he realizes that it is none of them

he says in such a joyful tone “she will fall when she finds out that I met her mother” :з but then Nori pinned him to the wall again, forcing him to remain silent about it. it's funny how she openly admits that she is the cause of all the nightmares in Uzi's life, so she thinks that if Uzi finds out she is alive, it will cause problems. N says in a decisive tone that he doesn't want to keep secrets from Uzi anymore, since he has already seen what this can lead to - a loss of trust. the moment from ep2 when he wanted to touch her shoulder, but she backed away, and when just recently he went to her, but she stepped back. seeing your loved one afraid of you and losing trust in you is a very painful thing

she presses the cross on him so hard that cracks appear on the ground, she is really serious

N promises, after which she looks a little surprised and as if grateful, but then she realizes that there will be some kind of catch

and she's not wrong. he got out of this situation so that he didn’t have to lie to Uzi and keep everything secret. Nori rolls her eye, realizing that it couldn’t have been otherwise and this guy wouldn’t be convinced and yeah she said THE LIINEEE

wild N oh........that's something I think Nori told N that there is a way to weaken the solver so that it does not cause problems. and since he guessed that Tessa knew about this, now her pressure for N to choose the universe and not the little drone sounds strange. if it is possible to weaken/ get rid of/ heal of the solver, then why kill Uzi? and Tessa had a clear desire to get rid of the Uzi. in essence, she gave him free rein, saying that he will make the choice, but at the same time she said that he would have to choose the universe

after which he cuts off her head, with an X on his visor. it was intense. the robot disobeyed his boss and a good friend. not fully understanding who the person you knew for a long time was. did you make the right choice

he immediately woke up from shock when he saw Uzi's hand on the cross and started helping her get up. his voice sounds pitiful, worried, but at the same time joyful, since he saw her again after what happened. N's voice trembles a little, but he still sounds sincere. he doesn't want to scare her off again

oh yeah and now that line is heartbreaking- he extends his hand to her, he needs her and emphasizes the word "you"

when watching the teaser his "together?..." at the end of the phrase sounded uncertain, pleading, as if he wasn’t sure that she would agree to solve everything together. but now, watching it, I hear in his “together?” hope and joy, as if he understands that it is with her that he can overcome everything and figure things out, and he is glad that he was able to find her and she did not reject him. at the words "to figure things out.." he sounds uncertain, lost and a little sad, but then he sees her placing her hand in his. his cross disappears and at the same time he blushes. she was able to calm him down from shock simply by touching his hand.

i know that before this I made a post “if a character blushes it doesn’t mean they're in love” and I’m a little embarrassed, but damn.. it really looks like that in here, right? we know that Uzi was the first one who started to fall in love with him and after some time he started to develop feelings for her. and at this point he may have accepted it

and should I mention that they immediately lace their fingers together, whereas the last time they held hands it was very awkward for them?

and then he smiles

[naffeclipse]

I don't know when I'll ever write this, but I've had this AU in the back of my mind ever since Bendy and the Dark Revival came out, and it's best to get it out of my head before it festers and rots.

More or less, it's BatDR and the DCA smashed into one. The premise is that you are an animator at Fazbear Studios and Sun and Moon are humans who go by Cyrus and Mani respectively, employed as voice actors. (First AU with human Sun and Moon whoo! don't get attached though) Vanessa is a janitor who is a bit odd, mostly keeping to herself though sometimes you feel like she's starting at your back when you're alone.

Cyrus and Mani perform as extras in the Fazbear cartoon, adding supporting voices for side characters and miscellaneous lines. Cyrus often supplies humorous, wacky, and surreal voices to his performances. Mani tends to get villainous or spooky characters with his deeper, raspier voice. They both enjoy what they do and love that they can work together as brothers.

You can't help but notice Cyrus and Mani. You admire their skill, their passion, and their smiles, and you sometimes even work up the courage to wave at Cyrus or Mani whenever one of the brothers happens to pass by your work desk.

They inspire you—not just with their work, but with their small acts of care. You find coffee on your desk when you return from a meeting with the other animators with a little smiling sun doodled on the cup. Sometimes, Cyrus asks you to join him on a walk since it's your lunch break and you could really use some sunshine and a chance to stretch your legs. When it gets far too late and you're burning the midnight oil, Mani is somehow always there, doing a funny voice to surprise you with a little reminder that it's past your bedtime. He leaves you little treats in blue wrappers, hidden in places on your desk, among your ink and papers.

It's not a surprise that you start drawing a character for them in your rare off hours when you still have the energy to hold a pencil. The Fazbear cartoon could add a new, permanent character. A robotic jester, lanky and tall, but with two forms for the day and night, funny and sweet and mischievous. Cyrus and Mani could both voice him!

That's silly, however. Fazbear Studios does not want your chaotic and half-brained scribbles nor do you dare show the brothers what they inspired—they might hate it. You keep your little jester character tucked away, along with a small doodle of a minor, nobody, gray character who may or may not be a tag along to the main act that is the jester. Your sketches and concept art are hidden away, far from where the light of day or the shine of night will ever see.

It goes missing one day. You're upset and asking everyone who went through your desk. No one confesses. Cyrus tells you that it'll be okay, he'll help you find it. Mani suggests that you keep locks on your drawers from now on.

It's never found, not that you wanted either of them to stumble upon it. Yet, they stay late with you after everyone has gone home, looking for your precious and secretive sketchbook through the many departments of the studio.

Somewhere along the way, Cyrus disappears, promising to return with your sketchbook. You lose Mani in the audio department before, oh, there's Vanessa. She tells you to come to the basement with her—she found your notebook. You're relieved but a little put off by Vanessa and reluctantly follow her down into the dark.

You don't find your sketchbook, but you do find Cyrus slumped against the wall, blood trickling down his temple, and a strange collection of shrines to one of the studio's cartoon characters.

Before you can rush to his side, pain explodes in your skull, cracking white across your vision. You fall to the ground, dazed, as Vanessa gives a cryptic promise to return with the last sacrifice. You manage to crawl across the floor in your pitiful state to reach Cyrus and attempt to revive him, but by then, Mani is walking in. His shock overtakes him but he dodges a swipe of Vanessa's wrench and starts struggling against her. You try desperately to drag Cyrus somewhere safe as he murmurs for you to get out of here, but in the middle of Vanessa's and Mani's fight, she flips a switch and ink begins filling the room.

The black flood sweeps Cyrus away from you. Pages spill out from the inside of Vanessa's vest, dozens of sketches of your jester character. You cry out. Mani looks to you. Vanessa at last shoves Mani into the surge of onyx liquid beside Cyrus, and you watch both of them go under together. You scream their names. She turns to you, grinning.

The last thing you remember is Vanessa shoving your head into the ink.

Then it's the only thing you remember. You're vaguely aware that your jet-black hands are strange and shiny, and that you don't know where you are in this sepia-colored studio, but you know something's not right. You're missing someone, and someone else. You're scared.

You wander around for a bit until you're attacked by monsters emerging from the ink, shrieking and wailing in gluey dark forms until a wonderful and terrifying automaton arrives. He destroys such a creature about to tear you apart. He stands so tall, detailed with sharp teeth and even sharper sun rays around his large, flat face, but you think you recognize those yellow eyes—a living cartoon.

He helps you calm down and asks for your name in a loud and funny voice that rings like a bell in your mind but you can't name the tune. You don't remember your name. He doesn't remember his either. He leads you away from the harsher spaces of the studio, somewhere 'safer'. You don't know if there is anything as safe, but you feel better with him.

You're startled when after a time, in the middle of talking to this sunshine character, he melts and morphs and bubbles until a crescent moon face emerges and a new grin. You panic before a darker, raspier voice, like a cartoon villain, tells you it's alright. He's here, too. He's not sure what's going on but he, and the other 'him', and you are gonna make it out of here, somehow.

You don't have hope anywhere else but in this unique robot jester, and he seems to want you to stay close to him. So it's you two, the last sane partnership in the crazed and dripping studios, fighting off ink creatures and surviving other bizarre characters. You learn how to wield a gent pipe and the jester is strong on his own, often able to tear things apart or toss monsters off of you before they can do worse. He has claws and teeth and he uses them well.

Vanny is a lady rabbit and a constant threat. She's smart and cunning, unlike the other mostly senseless attackers. She keeps tracking the two of you down and spouting off the religious rhetoric of Inktrap, promising that your sacrifices will be well worth the pain. You had to be introduced to the cycle. The ink has corrupted you perfectly. You are part of this place. You are never leaving and will give in to Inktrap.

You and he avoid Inktrap at all costs. You've only caught glimpses of the shadowy, pitch-black beast, but that's all you need to see as you both hide and hold your breaths until the danger just barely passes by.

You start to call the daytime jester Sun, and he seems to respond to it. The nighttime joker is Moon, and he neither hates nor loves it, but he answers when you call. He has a name for you, too, or rather names. Peach, bird, thrill, calico, and sweetheart. He gets creative and goofy. You think he's being mean sometimes but he tells you he's not, he means it, and you don't know how to take that before you two have to focus on escaping this part of the studio and getting into safer areas. You protect his back and he protects yours, and together, you make this living, unending nightmare bearable. Sharing bacon soup, falling asleep in Moon's lap, and patching up any drips in Sun's inky form becomes something like a life.

It just never stops, repeating over and over. The jester deserves better than this, whatever happened to him. You know you both do.

You become determined to learn how the cycle works and how to prevent it from going on. There's a funny feeling you have that, somehow, you're going to have to go through Vanny and the Inkdemon. One day, you will get the jester and yourself free.

You need to see his and your happy ending.

[rubyarerosies]

got a youth of may inspired angst kinda rant with gojo if anyone wants to know hehe

(tw. cheating? (not on mc) death, injuries, kinda toxic idk)

Gojo’s a Lieutenant General in military and you’re his favourite nurse, obvious reason, you’re his girlfriend of 3 years. You both met during your stay in medical school and his 3 week training for medical assistance - dates and hard fucking were what sprouted this love. Your the first nurse he calls when he’s injured, he always comes to your office during your lunch break if he has time, and he always kisses you and his promise ring when he leaves for a mission domestically or internationally.

But things started to change when your branch was sent to a city where martial law was declared, and Gojo had to stay because a Lieutenant General was already placed for duty there. You both did your best in keeping contact, but with the amount of shifts you were put on due to military violence held you back in the hallways of the hospital. Misunderstandings happen as Gojo worries over your long absences and you worry during your shifts at the hospital on whether or not if you should talk to him - would it end up being an argument? You stop texting and he’s at his wits end. That’s until your cousin, also a nurse back at home, started becoming your emissary because of your turmoil.

It hurts me but Gojo starts to become attached to your cousin, starting to enjoy her company more than what she initially came to tell him about you. But Gojo wouldn’t pursue her if he was still with you - you’re still precious to him, you’re still someone he loves, so he breaks it off over the phone.

“Is it her?” - “…Yeah,”

“Why her?” - “She’s here.”

You don’t hear from her or him after that, you figure she feels out of place to talk to you now that she’s somewhat got feelings for her cousins ex boyfriend. And Satoru, you figure he’s wallowing in a pit of shame, although it must not as deep as you expect since he wasn’t scared to say it over the phone, or keep it secret for a bit at home (you don’t think you want to call that city home anymore)

“Shoko told me there’s not much they hide over there,” Suguru’s voice is soft, you don’t want his pity - but you rethink it when his next words come out cautiously it sends an uncomfortable tremor in you.

“…She also said he doesn’t wear his ring anymore,”

Blah Blah Blah, time goes on. You try to work on yourself but with such little time on your hands, there’s only so much you can do for yourself. But Suguru helps the best he can, he’s a good friend - almost too good that your chest doesn’t tremble with sadness when he starts to talk about Satoru and your cousins status (he only does it when you ask, and he makes sure to double check if you’re really sure he can talk about - ‘she’s ranked up, she sits in your old office now’ ‘Shoko growled them off the other day for spilling disinfectant over the infirmary floor, she called them ugly hounds’)

There’s a big city commotion that happens, and martial law calls for back up. Overnight, reinforcements are sent over.

Gojo happens to stumble into your infirmary with a dislocated shoulder, his head held down low as he sits on the bed, his mind screams about the nostalgia of it all. You walk in and grimace a bit, then heave out a sigh. It’s silent on your part, you only give him sharp answers when he asks how you’ve been and if you’ve been doing ok. Satoru feels his stomach backflip when he feels your touch across his shoulder, collarbone and chest, your hands feel like fire but so soft simultaneously. He also feels something cold, and it makes him shiver, he looks down - your promise ring.

“Don’t feel so special, I wasn’t going to let this dust up in my drawer, it’s a nice ring.”

When you leave, you bump into your cousin who looks frantic. It’s awkward until she asks where he is, you point to the closed curtain and she leaves with a bitter taste in her throat (she was there on sight ready to help him, but he had already asked for your assistance out of instinct)

Gojo resumes his duties, but this time, he stays here. Suguru says it’s because the other Lieutenant generals wife just had their first born so he went back home.

After the first city commotion, more happens, the people are restless. You understand them, it’s not nice law abiding a more corrupt ‘government.’ Gojo too, he doesn’t like how the higher ups order so much violence against the public, but to save face for his position he stays quiet. You don’t. You join the people and Satoru watches.

It’s now routine to always bump into him. Your cousin now works at your hospital, so you’re bound to see him when he comes to visit and pick her up if he can. He tries to befriend you, but you don’t want that.

Satoru sees you forget your ID one day when entering the hospital in casual clothes, the soldiers at the door must be new because they start to become aggressive. You’re shoved on the floor and before you could be slapped, Gojo steps in and takes it on his shoulder - his injured shoulder.

And that’s how you end up hold an ice bag on the swelling area of his shoulder. Satoru uses his thumb to smoothe out your eyebrows, saying how you’re scary with a glare. And when you finally look up, you see his dog tag is paired with his promise ring, when you ask about it he says, “Didn’t have the heart to throw it in my draw as well,”

This is where things start to get confusing with our lovebirds? Gojo is being confusing; he likes you cousin, he really does, but he thinks he still loves you, and Y/N won’t open up to him about the possibility of dating him again because of how poisonous it is to think about how they ended before.

Satoru decides for the both of you when he comes back for a checkup and lets it slip that he misses you, and when you look up, he kisses you, his hand cradling your hand with the promise ring and pulling it against his chest to connect it with his.

However, you don’t take kindly to his actions and slap him after. He whispers he loves you when you leave. After leaving himself, he goes over to his girlfriend’s apartment and apologises.

“Why?” - “She’s here now, and that’s all I needed”

You do your best at pushing him away, but he’s persistent. It starts to annoy you that you beg your superior to change your shifts, but no matter what, he’s always there like shadow.

“Y/N,” he says sternly, but you don’t falter in your haste to seem against the idea, “7PM, tonight,”

“I can’t leave until 9,” - “7PM, I’ll carry you if I have to,”

You get carried out at 7PM but the date is cut short after a curfew was set at 8PM, Satoru says he didn’t know about this. The 2 dates you go to after the first is not out of your will, but you would say the ones after aren’t.

It’s after a month when Satoru says he loves you again, and this time to your face. You think it’s because of how damn serious everything is starting to crumble, he came back to the infirmary a week ago with a very nasty concussion and gashes and there was a sliver of panic in him that he wouldn’t make it without telling you how much you meant to him. So he confessed to you the week after.

“I know you don’t have the answer right now, come back to me tomorrow night and I’ll wait for you, always,”

You don’t give him an answer, mind too muddled after a change of events these past couple of months, but you give him your ring as a promise that you will come back if not tomorrow, and he gives his to you as a reminder that you always have a part of his heart. You leave his room after that, and when you do, you notice it’s past curfew. The rural areas of the city are quite scary to walk by, especially the trees.

Long story short, you see a kid in the woods afraid of making their way home because of how brutal they’ve come to realise the military men were, you do your best in walking them out but get shut down when a soldier drives past and sees your white uniform in within the trees. He’s yelling, calling you a traitor for conspiring with the public with such suspicion. You tell the kid to run when you stand up and he does, your hands are lifted and you turn around when the soldier spots the kid disappear into the trees.

He shoots you in the chest, you think it pierced your lung, and you drop to the ground. He leaves you in that woods but you’re just thankful he didn’t pursue that precious child into the woods. Your chest heaves with heartbreak each shallow breath you take - Satoru, your eyelids feel heavy the more you take a breath. You love him, despite it all, you love Satoru - always have, always did.

Your eyes reach the sky, it’s flimmering with birght stars. You think if you concentrate hard enough, it’ll show you the cosmos that are in Satoru’s eyes. You take the ring out of your pocket and do you best with one hand to slide it on your ring finger.

“I do, Satoru, I do.”

You do love him, and you think broadly if he had asked for your hand you would’ve replied the same as well.

It’s 4 years after you disappeared - only Satoru thinks that, but others beg to differ. After the martial law was overrun in that city, violence was eradicated and Satoru decided to no longer pursue his fight as a military man - that time of his life showed him that being a part of the military wasn’t what his morals were - plus it wasn’t what you wanted too.

After you hadn’t showed the night after, he clutched your ring tightly to manifest that you would come back to him someday - but he didn’t mean 3 years later.

“It’s - It’s her, they found her,” Suguru whispers, and Satoru stops. Time stops for him, everything stops.

Satoru is brave, the bravest soldier his superior would preach about, but he isn’t brave enough to see what was left of you. So he clutches the ring that was found with you, his wails come violently like his soul is being ripped from him. Your cousin is the only one to comfort him, she’s no longer bitter about everything because if that didn’t happen she wouldn’t have met her now husband and son. So she comforts him as a thank you.

After a month, Satoru visits your grave. He weeps at your photo, his body curled on the grass; he’ll never see you again, he’ll never remind you how his love bleeds for you every time, and he’ll never know what you wanted to say that night.

He loved you for three years, still loved you for another and will forever love you until he gets to greet you again.

His dog tag dangles with both your rings.

“I’ll keep these clean for you for the next time I see you, my love, wait for me okay?”

[allzelemonz]

An Omega’s Place: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader x Kieran Duffy

Pronouns: he/him Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Smut, language, noncon Warnings: Noncon, Alpha Colm O’Driscoll, Omega Kieran Duffy, a/o/o, mating cycles/in heat, scenting, kissing, anal sex, hand jobs, forced mating, forced bond, mentions of breeding Summary: O’Driscolls never have treated their Omegas very well, especially not during a rut.

The O’Driscolls keep the Omegas packed together in a shed, taking care not to lose any when they move from camp to camp. Every camp has at least one no matter the size, Alphas and Betas need entertainment after all. Entertainment and the promise of a future for the gang. In the O’Driscolls, Omegas are only good for fucking. The pleasure of their superiors and the endless development of their children.

And you’ve been with them for almost a year.

Not often picked, thankfully. Only the occasional Beta, a certain Alpha. Humiliating every time, but it could be worse. Some Omegas here are common toys of Alphas, dragged away every night and returned with a swell so big they may as well have conceived. Those that do are always taken away to a tent with a bed, treated like humans until it’s over. You spend most of your time keeping to yourself against the wall. When the Betas come in you sometimes have to watch an Omega get shoved to the ground and bred because they don’t want any Alpha scent messing with the Omega’s head. Usually it’s an Alpha that comes in, taking their pick and leaving with not much other than pretty words.

A week ago they brought in a new one. Betas were talking about how much fun he was when they threw in on the ground and locked the door again. A few Omegas went to him, helped him with the bruises and the cuts and the swell. Then he sat next to you, shaking and trying to breathe. You don’t blame him, no Omegas come to the O’Driscolls willingly. Then at night he had nightmares and you took pity on him enough to cuddle him. From there it became the standard. He would shake and you would hold him. Sometimes you’d kiss his head, night or day, simply because it felt right and he enjoyed it. 

Kieran Duffy always found his way into your arms and gave such soft kisses and talked about such nice things. Horses mostly, he loves horses and fishing and cuddling. In the last few days you’ve taken quite a fondness of him, understanding why decent Alphas are so protective now. The other Omegas don’t really care, some even give you smiles when Kieran sits in your lap or you kiss him.

But good things are never allowed to last.

Colm O’Driscoll is in camp. Or so Tom’s favorite Omega says when she comes back.

“He was complaining about not being top Alpha in camp anymore.” She says, Omegas huddled around her like it’s a scary campfire tale. “A couple Betas talked to him when he was bringing me back, they said he’s staying for a few weeks.”

Whispers fill the crowd at the news. Your body tenses and you can feel Kieran hug you a little tighter. He knows who Colm is, everyone’s warned him.

“Did they say why?” One of the older Omegas asks, making the whispers go quiet.

She shakes her head. “Not really…”

“Come now, child.” The older Omega chides. “We’re a pack, no secrets from pack.”

She takes a moment, playing with her hands. “They might have said something about a rut.”

The mood in the shack changes and it takes a lot of gentle shushing from the older Omega to get everyone calm again. They sigh when everyone looks at them, long tired of playing the parent.

“Colm has only ever had one during ruts, so the rest of you can calm yourselves.” They push away from the crowd and everyone watches as they kneel in front of you. “You need to prepare yourself.”

Kieran looks at you but all you can do is stare at the older Omega. They were here when Colm came looking, just a few days after you’d been taken. He looked at every Omega, but his eyes landed on you. They were there when the Betas brought you back and your body ached and your head spun. They were there when Colm picked you again, and again. Three ruts and you hardly remember a second of them.

“Think on the bright side, child.” The older Omega attempts a comforting smile. “You’ll get a bed for a few nights.”

You give them a smile for no other reason than to get them away from you. They leave, returning to reassure the other Omegas that worry. It’s likely other Alphas will catch scent of the rut and get agitated, some might come for an Omega of their own. At least the Betas will be occupied by that instinct to protect the rutting Alpha, none of them should bother.

“Y-You n’ Colm?” Kieran asks in a soft voice.

“Only during his ruts.”

Kieran nuzzles into your neck, his nose pressing against your scent patch and smelling like he’ll never get to do it again. “He never… caught durin’ a heat er nothin’?”

You shiver a bit at the memory. O’Driscoll Omegas aren’t fed well enough to have very frequent heats but you have had one here. Betas came in when they smelled it, checking to see if it was any Alpha’s preferred Omega. You’d already spent a rut with Colm so they took you to him. Looking back you consider yourself lucky that he was in camp. If no Alpha in particular wants the Omega for themselves, they might share.

“Just one.” You sigh, leaning into Kieran as he hugs you close.

“‘m sorry.”

“Just how things are, Kieran.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, bordering your scent patch and making you take a sharp breath at the feeling of pleasure. What you wouldn’t give to be somewhere nice with Kieran. Far away from the O’Driscolls and back in civilization where Omegas aren’t simply toys for the amusement of criminals. Maybe spend your heats together.

“I’ll be fine.” You sigh, a hand petting Kieran’s hair.

“Don’t mean I ain’t gonna worry.”

Hours pass, simple hours of tight holds and soft kisses. Then a Beta opens the door, Colm pushing him aside. His scent is light but very much the beginnings of a rut. Every Omega perks, some unable to stop themselves from stepping closer to him. Betas come in, pushing the Omegas away as Colm walks to you. There wasn’t enough time to untangle yourself from Kieran and you know that Colm saw by the smile on his face.

“Got yerself a little sweetheart, Omega?”

Kieran shrinks back against the wall, resisting the urge that makes you not fight when Colm pulls you to your feet. He holds your waist and presses his nose to your neck, scenting deeply.

“So sweet…” He mutters.

He turns you, pushing you into a couple of Betas that hold you still. They tighten their hold on your arms when you struggle as he kneels down to Kieran. Kieran, who you have been able to keep away from prying eyes until now, he hasn’t been touched since he was taken last week. Colm pushes Kieran’s hair back and the compelled Omega leans into the touch, not protesting as he’s scented.

Colm groans softly. “Ya smell like ‘em…”

Never in a million years did you think your scent would rub off on Kieran, especially without marking. You’ve heard of it before, people that spend time together picking up each other’s scents. You’d only ever heard of it happening with families. But an Alpha’s nose, particularly one nearing rut, wouldn’t mistake something like the scent of an Omega he’s rutted lingering on someone else.

Colm pulls Kieran to his feet and the poor kid doesn’t know how to resist the enamoring scent. The Beats holding you walk behind Colm as his hands guide Kieran by the waist. The direct sunlight makes you blink rapidly and the change in scent is jarring. You’d gotten so used to the comforting smells of other Omegas and the timid ones of the occasional Beta that your nose flooding with the different scents of O’Driscoll Alphas nearly chokes you.

You’re taken to Colm’s cabin, the same one from his last rut. The Betas push you inside after Colm and Kieran, closing the door. There is no lock, there doesn’t need to be. Betas usually like the scent of an Alpha in rut, there will be plenty lingering outside to keep any offended Alphas away. And with Colm’s scent getting stronger, you wouldn’t want to leave anyway.

Colm sits on the bed and Kieran is so caught in his scent that he doesn’t need to be told to sit on the man’s lap. The good thing about ruts is that the scent doesn’t make you lose your mind to mating the way a heat does to Alphas. You have your senses, Colm just smells nice and you don’t want to leave. You also have the experience to be able to enjoy it from a distance. Kieran doesn’t have that. He does what you did during the first rut you spent with Colm, he drinks in the scent from the source. So enthralled in it that he doesn’t care about Colm’s dick grinding into his ass.

You make yourself sit in one of the chairs by the dining table, trying to breathe more through your mouth than your nose. Kieran begins to whimper, that instinct naturally taking over him in the presence of an Alpha. It always makes it harder to resist. Rut or not, an Alpha’s scent and the beginnings of intimacy always twist the minds of Omegas. You know the feeling and you wish there was something you could do about it. You just try not to watch, try not to listen as Kieran starts to beg and Colm starts to say those gross promises.

But as his scent gets stronger, much more compelling, you find yourself needing to be much closer to the Alpha. You try to fight it, but it’s much too strong now. As you approach, you find Colm fucking harshly into a presenting Kieran. Slick drips out with every thrust and Kieran whines and pleads to be filled. It makes your stomach turn, but you need to be close to Colm. The Alpha smiles at you, his hips slowing a bit as his hands pull you closer. Kieran fucks himself back into Colm as the Alpha kisses you and his hands roam your body, one falling almost immediately to squeeze your dick through your pants. Then he lets you go and you can finally press into his neck and breathe in the nice scent you crave.

“Such good little Omegas.” He chuckles. “Right where ya belong.”

You hear Kieran cry out, assuming he’s released but not able to tear yourself away from Colm’s scent patch to check. Colm tugs your pants down and in your twisted state, you help him. Your mind is too fogged to focus now but you feel the soft sheets under you all of the sudden and a second later Colm is pushing into you. Your ass drips with slick as he fills you and now that Omega instinct comes over, wanting nothing more than to be bred again and again.

Very softly, fingers run through your hair. You meet Kieran’s eyes, blown out in a state of bliss. Neither of you have much sense beside pleasing the Alpha in hopes that he fucks you both until you’re dripping with his seed. So Kieran kisses you, much rougher than either of you ever have. Behind you, Colm groans and pumps you full as his knot keeps him there. He’s knotted you before, he usually does.

“That’s it, pretty Omegas.” He says with a moan, his hand running along your back. “Keep warm fer yer Alpha.”

You can’t stop the whimper as Kieran’s hand leaves your hair. Colm pulls you back with him, making you sit in his lap as he beckons Kieran closer. It’s you that kisses him this time, your mind coming back a bit and just wanting to feel something aside from Colm. But the Alpha’s hand finds yours and directs it to Kieran’s dick. He holds you there, starting to pump faster than Kieran can handle and making him whimper against your lips. You try to distract him, try to be soft in your kisses to comfort him, but Colm squeezes your hand so tight around him that you know it has to hurt.

Then in your ear, in that low and commanding voice only an Alpha can bring on. “Fuck him fer me, Omega.”

It compels your already rattled mind and, just as Colm’s knot relaxes, you push Kieran back and climb on top of him. Colm stays back, watching his selected Omegas as they kiss and grind. And his hand pumps his dick when he watches you slide yours into Kieran, the command of an Alpha spurring you on. Still, it’s Kieran under you. You have the sense to gentle, to more make love than fuck until Colm pushes you down and enters you again.

With every rock of his hips, you’re pushed into Kieran. Both of you whining those nonsense pleas about Alphas and breeding and being full. Colm’s hands dig into your hips, clawing with every thrust. For once you’re thankful it’s a rut, because Colm cums much faster than he might otherwise. For the second time, he knots you and fills you so much that it makes your stomach hurt. He grinds you into Kieran and you’re overwhelmed, shooting slick deep inside the other Omega.

“Gonna have my kids, Omega?” Colm mutters against your ear as he leans over you. “‘bout time ya did, been makin’ me wait so long.”

“Colm…” Your breath hitches as he ghosts his teeth over your scent patch. “A-Alpha… please no…”

Your plea doesn’t stop him. He sinks his teeth into your scent patch and you whine from the bit of pain it causes. When he pulls back, he kisses the mark before pulling you away from Kieran. You slip out of him and he whimpers, curling in on himself from the empty feeling. Colm has you in his lap for a while, whispering things about breeding you and claiming you in your ear until his knot relaxes and he pushes you off.

He pulls you back by the arm, his grip bruising. “Mark me back er I kill the Omega.”

Your eyes dart to Kieran for a moment. He’s exhausted, only half awake as he lets out soft whimpers of pain.

“Might mark him too…” Colm says, his fingers running along your jaw. “Gotta make sure he’s worth it first.”

His rut is in a lull, he’s in complete control of his mind. His eyes aren’t blown or glazed, they’re cutting. You know he’d make good on his threat and then force you into marking him anyway, so you carefully lean in as he pets your hair. Your head swims a bit again as you take in his scent so directly and you sink your teeth into the mark. Colm hisses at the feeling, his hand pulling your hair and forcing you back.

“Always so damn well behaved fer yer Alpha.” He growls, forcing you onto your back.

He doesn’t waste time, pushing into you again. When you turn your head you see Kieran has fallen fast asleep, just inches from you. He’s alive, at least he’s alive.

[mimisempai]

Clear-cut

Summary

Greg is in hospital and injured. When Mycroft finds him, he tries to play down the seriousness of his injuries, but Mycroft has had enough and wants the unvarnished truth.

Notes

Mystrade Monday  3.0  #10 - Character A likes to include half-truths and tall-tales in their stories and Character B likes to keep track of them. (I deviated a little from it) 

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On AO3

804 words - Rating G

"Greg! What the hell happened?"

The doctor who had just finished treating Greg turned to Mycroft and said, "Sir, you shouldn't be here..." 

Greg replied to Mycroft, "I'm fine."

Mycroft frowned and Greg sighed before insisting, "It's just a few scratches."

He folded his shirt sleeve over the bandage the doctor had just applied to his arm. 

"Monsieur Lestrade, we were this close to transfusing you, so don't minimize your injuries."

"And perhaps I didn't want my partner to worry!" 

Then, seeing Mycroft's exasperated expression, he added, "I certainly didn't mean to tell him like that."

Mycroft came and stood by the bed as he replied, "You would have minimized it even more. You'd probably only have told me half the story. I know how you are. Although I usually like to decipher your tall tales, this time it's not the case. This is serious, Greg."

Greg struggled to keep his eyes open and whispered, "But I swear I'm fine."

The doctor interjected, "I'd rather keep you overnight. "

Mycroft, knowing Greg would protest, intervened, "I'll take him home. I promise to keep an eye on him, Doctor."

Greg grimaced. They'd planned a dinner and now he'd ruined it.

"I'm sorry."

Mycroft took his hand and squeezed it gently into his own.

"Don't be. It won't be at the restaurant, but we'll spend the evening together anyway." 

Then he turned to the doctor and asked, "Is there anything I should be aware of?"

"Just keep an eye on him for the next 24 hours. Even if the wound isn't as deep as we first thought, it's still a total of sixty stitches in three different places."

Halfsmiling, Greg replied, "You should have seen the look of my opponent".

"Your opponent?!" 

Greg replied sheepishly, "The glass door to my sister's balcony."

"Greg..."

"I couldn't help it, she had cleaned it too well, I didn't see that it was closed and ran into it at full speed. Apparently there was already a crack and it literally exploded from the shock."

Feeling exhaustion wash over him, Greg added with a sigh, "Can we go home now? "

The doctor took pity on him and nodded.

Greg sighed in relief.

Mycroft asked gently, "Can you walk?" 

Greg grimaced and replied, "With help I should be fine."

Thirty minutes later, supported by Mycroft, Greg made his way as best he could through the door of their apartment.

His lover helped him make himself comfortable on the sofa before sitting down beside him, a worried expression on his face. 

Greg put his hand on Mycroft's knee and said quietly, "I assure you, I'm all right."

Mycroft wrapped his arm gently around Greg's shoulders and held him close before asking quietly, "Why didn't you want me to know? "

Greg dropped his head against Mycroft's chest and replied, "It's not that I didn't want to, but I wanted to tell you so that you wouldn't worry as much as you do now."

Mycroft harrrumpha, "Idiot, I'll always worry, and probably more if you don't tell me things as they are. No secrets, no half-truths, just the facts."

Greg nodded as Mycroft continued, "With you, when it comes to your well-being, your mental or physical health, I don't want to have to use my insight or deductive skills, I'd rather you told me plain and simple."

Greg nodded again, and after a few moments he muttered, "Mycroft."

"Hm?"

"It really hurts. I could use a painkiller."

Mycroft pressed a kiss to his lover's hair and replied, "I'll get you what you need right away."

He gently positioned Greg on the sofa, elevated his injured arm with a pillow, then went to get what his lover needed. He returned a few moments later with a pill and a glass of water, which he handed to Greg. When Greg had swallowed the pill and drunk the glass, Mycroft asked him gently, "Is there anything else you need?"

Greg nodded and replied, "Just one thing."

"Tell me, love?"

"That you take me in your arms."

Mycroft chuckled softly before sitting down next to Greg and wrapping his arms around him, holding him to his chest while being careful with his injured arm.

He planted a kiss on Greg's forehead and asked, "Is everything all right?"

Greg replied, "It's not the best I've ever been, but you're making it better."

He pressed a kiss to Mycroft's chest and added, "And that's not a half-truth."

Mycroft laughed lightly and tightened his arm around his lover, saying softly, "Try to get some sleep. I'll be here if you need anything."

Greg yawned and grumbled, "'kay..."

The backlash and the painkiller soon got the better of him and he fell fast asleep in Mycroft's arms. As for Mycroft, he didn't sleep and watched over his lover's sleep until he woke up again.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade mondays 3.0 : here

Mystrade masterlist here

[edenmemes]

wednesday starters

❝ i’ve learned so much from you. part of it is admittedly criminal behavior. ❞ ❝ use the words  ‘little’  and  ‘girl’  to address me again and i can’t guarantee your safety. ❞ ❝ i knew you didn’t have what it takes to be a murderer. ❞ ❝ i promise that whoever did this to you will suffer. ❞ ❝ you really suck at this. cheering people up. ❞ ❝ are you feeling okay? you look a little pale. ❞ ❝ there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right. ❞ ❝ your secret’s safe with me. ❞ ❝ why should i bother telling you anything? you've already decided i'm lying. ❞ ❝ to tell you the truth, i’ve never really fit in anywhere. ❞ ❝ how i missed those accusing eyes and youthful sneer. ❞ ❝ i’ll be keeping my eye on you. ❞ ❝ you’re hurt. can you walk? ❞ ❝ try anything and you’ll lose limbs. ❞ ❝ i should have known you were behind this. ❞ ❝ do you always speak in riddles? ❞ ❝ for someone who claims to have no friends, you certainly protect them. ❞ ❝ i refuse to play the role of a pawn in someone else’s corrupt game. ❞ ❝ any plans you have of running away end right now. ❞ ❝ or you can just glare uncomfortably. whatever works for you. ❞ ❝ i don’t have time to explain, but you’re in danger. ❞ ❝ i didn’t realize we were back on speaking terms. ❞ ❝ no man chooses evil because it is evil. he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks. ❞ ❝ emotion equals weakness. pull yourself together. ❞ ❝ there’s a monster out there, but everyone believes i made it up. ❞ ❝ how long do you intend on giving me the cold shoulder? ❞ ❝ if you die, i will kill you. ❞ ❝ whoever you are, show yourself. ❞ ❝ how long have you been lurking? ❞ ❝ believe nothing you hear and half of what you see. ❞ ❝ as usual, you underestimate me. ❞ ❝ i don’t believe that i’m better than everyone else. just that i’m better than you. ❞ ❝ i hope that one day, you’ll finally be able to accept me for who i am. ❞ ❝ i don’t want you to be a stranger in my life. ❞ ❝ i don’t plan on staying here long. ❞ ❝ not a hugger. got it. ❞ ❝ you’re soft and weak. you’ll never survive without me. ❞ ❝ do you make a habit of scaring the hell out of everybody? ❞ ❝ if he breaks your heart, i’ll nail-gun his. ❞ ❝ you are a brilliant person, but sometimes you get in your own way. ❞ ❝ my personal philosophy is kill or be killed. ❞ ❝ breathe a word of this to anyone and i will end you. ❞ ❝ have you ever shot a bow and arrow before? ❞ ❝ i don’t bury hatchets. i sharpen them. ❞ ❝ you can’t get rid of me that easily. ❞ ❝ i act as if i don't care if people dislike me. deep down...i secretly enjoy it. ❞ ❝ there’s just something wrong about this place. ❞ ❝ i want to assure you i remain as cold and heartless as the first day we met. ❞ ❝ i have no interest in following in your footsteps. ❞ ❝ you used to love my killer instinct. ❞ ❝ sometimes the monsters we least expect are the most dangerous. ❞ ❝ would it kill you to not think the worst of me for once? ❞ ❝ is that your professional opinion as the child of a murderer? ❞ ❝ you always had a unique perspective on the world. ❞ ❝ i don’t know what kind of sick joke you’re playing, but i’m out of here. ❞ ❝ at least it’s turning into a beautiful day. ❞ ❝ being your friend should come with a warning label. ❞ ❝ there’s no time. leave me. save yourself. ❞ ❝ we were good together. ❞ ❝ oh, great. i guess you can add ‘thief’ to your resume. ❞ ❝ whatever did this wasn’t human. ❞ ❝ the last thing i remember i was walking outside feeling a mixture of rage, pity and self-disgust. ❞ ❝ i’m not above breaking a few fingers. ❞ ❝ once again, you have underestimated the situation. ❞ ❝ i see the world as a place that must be endured. ❞ ❝ this will not end well for you. ❞ ❝ stop making enemies and start making friends. you’re going to need them. ❞ ❝ it’s been a long night. i’m tired of your games. ❞ ❝ never lose that. the ability to not let others define you. ❞ ❝ i make one mistake, and you can’t forgive me. ❞ ❝ my deviousness has finally rubbed off on you. ❞ ❝ you could have been seriously hurt or worse. ❞ ❝ my vengeance will be swift and true. ❞ ❝ no matter how hard i try, there will always be people who look down on me. ❞ ❝ danger is on its way. no time to delay. ❞ ❝ please, flattery will get you nowhere. ❞ ❝ do you have a death wish or something? ❞ ❝ i’m the villain in your fantasy. ❞ ❝ i just want you to know all i want is the very best for you. ❞ ❝ you know what your problem is? you don’t know who your real friends are. ❞ ❝ i did a terrible a thing, but i swear i’m not a terrible person. ❞ ❝ the world isn’t always black and white. there are shades of grey. ❞ ❝ where you see doom, i see opportunity. ❞ ❝ friends are a liability and can be exploited. that makes them weaknesses. ❞ ❝ i’m just gonna come out and say it. i want us to be more than friends. ❞ ❝ that’s so sweet. you didn’t have to get me anything. ❞ ❝ think you skipped where you apologize for acting like a jerk last weekend. ❞ ❝ you’ll use everyone to get what you want, even if it means putting them in danger. ❞ ❝ every time you get involved, people get hurt. ❞ ❝ there’s a biting sense of humor that i always adored. ❞ ❝ what does it feel like? to lose. ❞ ❝ i  have  great  admiration  for  well  executed  revenge  plots  but  yours  was  a  bit  extreme. ❞ ❝ what’s your excuse from creeping around in the middle of the night? ❞ ❝ i’ll survive alone. i always have. ❞ ❝ when you give me that death stare of disapproval, you remind me of your mother. ❞ ❝ are you all right? i can’t imagine witnessing something like that. ❞ ❝ i’m tougher than you think. ❞ ❝ the more you listen to them, the more their claws sink into you. ❞ ❝ people like me and you, we’re different. ❞ ❝ i would rather dye my hair pink than ask my mother for advice. ❞ ❝ i’ve never seen someone so blinded by rage. ❞ ❝ could we please do without the overt display of emotion? ❞

[mlm-writer]

If I Should Become a Stranger (Smokescreen x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Smokescreen (TFP ver.) x Human!Gender Neutral!Reader Rating: General Audiences Words: 1608 POV: Second Summary: Smokescreen left you over a decade ago to rebuild Cybertron and until today, you had not heard from him since. Note: Read a Transformers novel and then it really dawned on me how beings with such a long life span must view time differently. So this fic explores that a little. Inspired by this song. Tags: angst, hurt no comfort (for smokey tbh), breakup from Smokescreen’s POV and song fic. 

Humans would argue that in war, there was nothing as precious as love. In war, one should hug one's friends more often, hold one's family tighter and kiss one's lover longer. Such was the philosophy of men; cherish what you have now you have it. It was quite befitting to a race with such short lives. Cybertronian's however…

Even in war, many acted like life would never end. There was plenty of time to fight one's friends. There was even more time to find it in you to mend things, patch up the wounds you created together. Even when friends started to lose the light in their optics, when the streets started to fill with the husks of neighbours, when tomorrow was more a wish than a promise, even then, Cybertronians were often found doing anything but cherishing the moment. 

Smokescreen was no different. Sure, he was impatient and young by comparison, but even to him, everything seemed to be able to wait, 'fore there will be a later. Hence why he had no reservations about going to Cybertron to rebuild. Hence why he could look upon his human lover with a smile as bright as the full moon on a clear night, while saying his goodbyes. "I'll see you soon," he had said while swaggering backwards into the space bridge. You had believed him as much as you had loved him back then.  

"Hey Ratchet, any messages for me?" You asked as you always did when visiting the medic at the old base. Ratchet looked down at you with those same sorry optics. He didn't need to say anything, but he always gave you the courtesy of an answer. 

"I'm sorry, there has been no communication for you," he spoke evenly, trying to keep the pity out of his voice. It was always like that. At first you stopped by every few days, then weekly, monthly, every few months… at some point you forgot to go altogether. You moved for work, so it was suddenly a whole journey to come visit. You got fired from that job, then you got a new job. You fell in love, got your heart broken, broke a limb, healed both and what else? It was just life - life without sentient alien robots, explosions and secret government missions. 

It almost seemed like it had all been a dream. You had almost forgotten about all the adventures of your youth, were it not for that scar on your arm you got from a brief brush with Soundwave at the satellite array. That was just the start, but somehow you made it through several threats to the planet fairly unscathed. That scar on your arm was the only big reminder you had of those days aside from the pictures stuffed in a box in your garage, somewhere on a shelf that was too high for you to reach without a chair to stand on. 

You were about to drive back from work to that garage when you caught sight of a familiar car in the parking lot. The colours were not as you remembered them, but it was strange to see a sports car like this at an office like yours. You stared at the vehicle for a long time and then sighed, before opening the driver's door to your car. However, as soon as you opened the door, the sports car you had been staring at earlier flashed its lights and started honking. You squinted your eyes and closed the door again. 

You locked your car and walked over to the other car that was making a ruckus. As soon as you approached, it quieted down and the driver’s door opened on its own. Against your best judgement, you got in. When you sat down, the seat belt wrapped itself around you and the engine revved to life. “Missed me?” A familiar voice came from the radio as the car drove out of the parking lot to God-knows-where. However, hearing that voice, you felt no fear, no worries, just a deep-seated resentment that had been dormant for many years. 

“Smokescreen,”  you greeted your ride with a tight voice. Said Autobot made a joke about how you simply could not forget him. It only angered you more. You had forgotten, mostly, until now. After that greeting, the air chilled down and not a word was exchanged, until Smokescreen pulled up at the side of an abandoned road. There used to be a factory at the end of it, but since the building had been decommissioned, no one used the road anymore; it was leading to virtually nowhere nowadays. 

The seat belt unfastened and you got out. When your shoes hit the dusty ground, the vehicle transformed into a shape that you used to know. You marvelled at his size as if it was the first time you witnessed his transformation. Cybertronians did not age, but that young face you used to know seemed more mature anyway. There was something about his gaze that got more intense, more serious. There was a slouch in his posture that was the telltale weight of responsibilities befitting an adult. 

Smokescreen whispered your name after a while of quiet staring. “Why are you here?” You inquired as a response. Hurt was evident on his face, but you thought it was a valid question. For over a decade, there was radio silence. Why would he be here if not for another danger looming over your planet? 

Smokescreen let out a scoff. “To see you of course!” He beamed in spite of everything. It was your turn to scoff as you crossed your arms. Your ex looked you over and then, very intelligently, said: “You’ve become bigger! That’s really cool! I forgot humans could do that… Want to go to the drive-in theatre today?” 

You sighed and turned to walk back to your car. It was gonna be a long walk, but you were stubborn and too prideful to tell him to drive you back. “There are no drive-in theatres in this area..” 

You barely got a few steps away when Smokescreen yelled from behind you. “I should have left you a message! I’m sorry!” You kept walking, tears prickling in your eyes. “I forgot!” He added as if it was a valid excuse. 

“Well, I forgot who you are!” You yelled over your shoulder, speeding up your walking. You heard your ex transform behind you and like a bad movie, he started driving next to you. All that was missing was pouring rain, but the sky was so clear, you could see the many constellations gradually making themselves known. 

He was driving with the door closest to you open, trying to get you to get in. “Come on! It has not been that long! I admit I have changed a little, but I’m still me, your Smokey…” You tried to block his voice out, stubbornly trudging on down the abandoned road. “I came back, because I started talking about you so much, Arcee practically shoved me into the space bridge to shut me up. It’s been like my processors always circle back to you.” He swerved and came to a halt right in front of you, forcing you to stop walking. “I told you I would see you soon…” 

You took a deep breath, ensuring that whatever you said next would be spoken in a normal, even tone. Smokescreen reverted back to bot mode, looking at you with pleading optics that could once pull your heartstrings. However, those times were long behind you. “Smokescreen,” you started like you were lecturing a child, “it has been like what? A decade and some? That may not be a long time for you, but I am human. A decade right now is about a third of my life. You made me wait a third of my life. Does that sink in with you?” 

Smokescreen seemed to shrink, pinned under your intense gaze. “I’m sorry,” he muttered eventually. His servos clenched and unclenched. You could see his processors working overtime, just to formulate a response. “I guess you’re right. Cybertron has become quite lively. I proved myself a leader. I made a lot of new friends… Maybe it is a long time…” For someone with a seemingly endless supply of RAM, he was awfully slowly putting the events of the past decade in perspective. His voice trailed off after every sentence. Eventually he just whispered one last thing. “A third…” 

You pitied him. You had enough time to mend the heart he broke many years ago. To him, however, he came back like he said, just to find what he left behind to no longer exist. Without a word he transformed into his alt mode. “I’ll take you back,” he stated. You did not resist this time and got in. 

The drive back was quiet. You did not speak. He did not speak. Only white noise filled the spaces between one heavy spark and only a slightly lighter heart. He drove you back to the parking lot where you had your car. You were about to get out when you heard his voice one last time. “For what it is worth, let me just say: I love you. You’re the best thing I ever had.” 

In spite of him being a stranger from the past, your heart ached. “Your life is long. You’ll love again. Don’t worry.” You patted the steering wheel and then got out. You did not look back and by the time you sat in your car, your car was the only one in the parking lot with the lights on.

[gray--abyss]

I wanted to figure out a likely timeline of Dan/Phantom/Whatever-his-name-is's spiral into evil, for writing him and stuff.

CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of suicide and themes of suicide starts below cut.

1. nasty patty incident

2. danny is grieving, but hopes for at least his parents to come back- after all, they had unfinished research, an obsession and thirst for knowledge. his justifications for how Sam, Tucker, and his sister would come back are flimsy, and he knows it. He can't stand the pitying looks from his former tormenters. His aunt, Alicia- not a gentle woman, but doing her best- comes out from the country to supervise him.

3. End of month 1: the funeral. Danny starts to grow more outwardly volatile, instead of directing his despair inward. He exchanges contact information with Vlad, and the two enter an uneasy truce as they enter closer contact.

4. After 6 months, he tries to tell Alicia about the half ghost thing, and she doesn't take it badly- but she admits that she doesn't know how to help with that. Danny isn't sure what he's been expecting, but it's not what he wants. He can't stand to be in Amity Park anymore, and asks Vlad and Alicia if he can move in with him. they both agree, and he moves in with Vlad.

5. month 7: Danny is miserable at this new school, in this new, empty house. He feels like a ghost here more than he ever has before. the fear and hatred he harbors towards Vlad has only amplified with the closer proximity, and the mans security measures certainly don't help. His hatred for himself grows, being too weak to save his family, too weak to tough things out in Amity while waiting for his family.

Content warnings apply below. I promise it's not All doom and gloom, but given it's Phantom... there's a lot of it.

6. Month 8: Danny decides that if his family doesn't come back, he will commit a kind of suicide, removing his ghost half, then his ghost half removing and dispatching Vlad's ghost half. He decides that 2 against 1 will be the best method, and that's where the idea of fusing with Vlad's ghost half comes in. After all, if either of them can kill their combined ghost, that'll be safer for everyone. One last "heroic" act. He just has to trick Vlad.

7. Month 10: Danny gives up, and executes on the plan. He's sick of wasting time being sad. Phantom doesn't want to die, and successfully kills Danny, and fails to kill Vlad. He doesn't realize Vlad didn't die in that explosion.

8. After the rush of revenge, Phantom feels really weird about it. It was only fair, Danny was going to kill him, but he realizes he didn't think through what it'd be like living as part Vlad. But hey- he doesn't have to juggle school, politics, or feigning humanity anymore. He can go keep an eye on his home now, and figure out how to spend his afterlife! He gets in contact with Alicia, letting her know a less... scary version of his suicide, and that he's going to be hanging around in Amity Park again. (... He still hasn't really given up on someone coming back.)

9. When he finally gets back to FentonWorks, he's furious to find his former schoolmates partying in his house, and nearly attacks them, but calms down just enough to only yell at them. He doesn't care about keeping things secret anymore, and lets the secret slip. He doesn't miss how their treatment of Phantom changes. He can almost accept this not-as-pitiful respect.

10. For the next 3 months (at 1 year 1 month post incident), he tries to protect Amity Park. He causes more property damage than before. He notes and tries to ignore his increased aggression, but after he actually injures Valerie, the only person left that he "trusts", he panics, and drops her off at the hospital. Enough is enough, and at a town hall meeting that he doesn't attend, they decide to bring in the feds to deal with the local phantom.

11. Upon FentonWorks being raided, he's furious. He's been protecting these people, and for what? This isn't fair! Phantom kills a few of the GIW, before making a declaration to the whole of town with a souped up megaphone he stole from the GIW: If they don't want his help, then he'll be what they think he is- just an another evil Phantom.

12. In the next 2 months, he causes mass chaos, but fails to cause much damage to GIW and the government. He's just one ghost, after all. He retreats into the ghost zone, and convinces Skulker to take him on as an apprentice. He does have fun hunting and fighting ghosts, after all, and it can help him hone and perfect techniques.

13. for the next 3 1/2 years (4 years 9 months post incident), Phantom almost entirely lives in the ghost zone, only traveling to the world of the living for special occasions. He's figured out how he wants to look by year 2 post incident- basically an idealized version of how he would've wanted to look as an adult. He sets out on his list of revenge, targeting ghosts and enemies that he feels have personally wronged him.

14. To graduate from his apprenticeship, he and Skulker have a hunt-off. Obviously, Phantom wins, and graduates. The hunt lasts 3 months. (5 years post incident)

15. This isn't to say Phantom had no social afterlife... with ghosts he was previously allied or friends with, he tried to keep those relationships. Wulf isn't about what he's up to, and distances himself to an acquaintance. Phantom parties with Dorathea, allies himself with Fright Knight, actually befriends Klemper for when he just needs a chill hangout, convinces Poindexter to help him in researching ghost stuff, and helps Bones babysit Youngblood, just for examples of relationships he has with canon ghosts. He's a combination of two very social and dramatic ghosts, so he's honestly kind of goofy when he's not being actively menacing.

16. He does not acknowledge the not-being-able-to-be-seen-by-adults thing that Youngblood has going on, deciding that he must be an adult at this point, and the fact that he can see Youngblood is a Fully Ghost thing. Youngblood thinks it's a bit he's doing and plays along- it is Not a fully Ghost Thing

17. He does some trial runs on attacking security companies and billionaires in the month before the next Incident Anniversary.

18. On the 5 year anniversary of the Nasty Patty Incident, Phantom launches a successful attack on the GIW, destroying their facilities. He begins razing USA government agencies and offices, because genuinely, they have been such a pain for him. He doesn't attack postal offices or bus systems. When other countries allied with the USA try to attack Phantom, he starts targeting them as well.

19. Something that... basically everyone but Phantom himself notices, is that the only average-people civilians he targets are people in Amity Park.

20. At year 6, the USA as we know it is gone- people still live there, the only places actually uninhabitable being former military bases, and a 50 mile radius around Amity Park. Phantom starts making a concerted, focused effort to attack Amity Park, starting an arms race between him and Valerie.

21. It's unnerving for Valerie to see how little he's changed, even with a shiny new coat of evil paint and an adult-ish appearance. She can't help but think it looks an awful lot like a superhero that Danny used to like.

22. At year 9, he decides that he's done all he's wanted, and that Valerie will be strong enough to kill him- so he plans one last fight with her- either he'll win, and be uncontested in strength... Or he'll lose, setting the balances of justice right once again. He's excited to see how strong she's gotten. ... Despite all he says, he hopes she'll win, and he'll get a "happy" ending, even if it isn't his.

[olympeline]

FrUK FACE family Parent Trap AU, part 9! Part 1

Last time: shock! Horror! Alfred, and by extension the whole scheme, just got rumbled! By Uncle Gil of all people! Who could have seen it coming? Not Alfred. But then he hasn’t known Gilbert long. Under that nutty exterior tick-tick-ticks a surprisingly sharp mind. Gilbert had been suspicious almost from the start. He didn’t say anything because that’s not his way. But now things have gone on long enough that even Gilbert has to step in. If for no other reason than he needs some news of Mattie.

So, under threat of an immediate call to Francis, Alfred is forced to confess all. They sit down over delicious and nutritious frosting sandwiches and Alfred tearfully confessses all that’s gone down since the twins were reunited. Everything from their chance meeting to their time living the other’s identity. Gilbert doesn’t let him off the hook, prodding for details and making Al show him his phone so he can confirm what’s been said. Alfred burns with embarrassment when Gilbert scans some of his early descriptions of him (the words “freaky” “weird” and “totally batshit” may or may not have been used) but Gil doesn’t comment. The let up in the grilling (gilling?) is when Gilbert sees a picture of Arthur in his conservative dad clothes.

“HA!! Mein gott, that’s precious! Old punkass, slutbag Kirkland turned into a right old tory, huh kid?”

“What’s a tory?”

“Ask your dad. He dresses like one of their rentboys.”

“What’s a rentboy?”

Gilbert changed the subject after that. To what the two of them intented to do now. How long were they planning to keep this up? What were they hoping to achieve? Alfred just shrugs helplessly. They weren’t really hoping anything. He tells Gilbert they just wanted to get to know the other half of their family. Finding the missing piece that’s always been there for both of them. Gilbert listens, takes another look at Alfred’s phone, then gives it back. Alfred sees it’s open on a selfie of Mattie and Arthur. Matthew has an Alfred-style big, sunny beam. Even after playing his brother for weeks, Mattie isn’t a good enough actor to fake it to such an extent. Gilbert knows him well enough to see that.

Alfred haltingly asks what Gilbert’s going to do now. Gilbert is quiet for a long time. Then he shakes his head, grins, and ruffles Alfred’s hair.

“I’m no snitch, kaulquappe, and I always thought what your dads did was moronic. I can’t imagine doing nothing after finding out what you did. Hell, if it were me and Lud I would have done the same. So don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Really?!” Alfred’s heart leaps and so he does too. Right off the couch. “YAHOO! Thanks, Uncle Gil! I-”

The rest is cut off when Gilbert stuffs a sandwich in his mouth.

“Cool your jets, yanketito. I wasn’t done! Remember I told you about my lil bro’s wedding?”

Alfred nods through a mouthful of frosting.

“Mmhm.”

“Gut. Obviously I’m going down to liberty land to be his best man. Ha! As if he’d dare choose anyone else! I’ll put Honda over my damn knee and spank him with his own bodypillow if he even thinks of muscling in on my territory!”

Alfred has no idea who this Honda is but pities him anyway. He nods as that seems the safest option.

“Mmhm.”

“So! I’ll be going down to NYC. And you’ll be coming with me.”

Gilbert gives him that rust-coloured stare again and Alfred, for one of the few times in his life, knows it would be futile to argue. Uncle Gil is like a force of demented nature.

“Like I said, I won’t snitch but this can’t go on forever. So enjoy your time up here, kid. It just got a curtain call, ja?”

Alfred swallows the sandwich and nods. What else can he do? Gilbert holds all the cards and they both know it.

“…Ja.”

“YEAH! Good choice! Now, call Mattie. Tell him to get his maple-print panties in a bunch because Uncle Gil knows and Uncle Gil wants to talk.”

(Have a small update! I’ve been very busy lately and I will be for a while so I can’t promise when there’ll be more. Just when I can snatch a few minutes. Until then, please enjoy and stay tuned for part 10! (´ε｀ )♡)

[dozing-marshmallow]

Hi!! Love the fic that you wrote of reader visiting Chris in prison. Could you write an angsty follow-up of reader finally breaking up with him after he gets out of prison with her being fed up with his unablity to change his negative thoughts and actions.

Ouchhh! Quite angsty, indeed!

HEY EVERYONE! Sorry for my long due absence. I’m currently in the middle of exam season, so that’s been taking up majority of my time, but I can say with certainty that afterwards (in four weeks), I’ll be free to post as frequently as I did before and complete all the requests I received! Thank you all for being so patient, and I hope you enjoy part 2 of this one shot!

Content warning, this one shot involves dysfunctional relationships, so please read at own risk.

CHRIS MCLEAN IN JAIL PART 2- ANGST

“(Y/NNNNN)!” your sweet separated husband exclaims, fixing his arms around you on his return home,“It’s so great to be back again!”

“H-Hi Chris...” you cough, squeezing him back,“How do you feel?”

“Better!” he chirped, patting your spine,“You know, I actually feel like a changed person!”

“Really?” Yeah right.

He nods, pulling away, that grin of his never ageing,“Yep! I realllyyy feel like a functioning member of society, ready to amend and give back!”

Yeah right.

You never thought you would be in the back kitchen with Chef about this.

Two years after his first release.

That’s right.

With heavy bags and sore limbs, you desperately explain,“I’ve tried to convince him to see a therapist or go to marriage counselling sessions with me, but he doesn’t listen!” you wince down to the ground. That word “marriage” felt more like “Hell” to you,“I feel like he’s getting worse and worse...”

“What can you do, (Y/N)? By law, he’s a grown man. No one, not even his mom can tell him what to do.” Chef Hatchet grunted, slicing some potatoes, as though he was not surprised,“Have you considered divorce?”

Divorce!,“That’s ridiculous, Chef. You know you can’t just file a divorce whenever you want. Marriage is a lifetime commitment and I still see the man I love.”

“And it’s that he’s takin’ advantage of.” That knife went blunter this time around,“He thinks it’s okay to go about like a criminal, because he has the money and popularity to get out of it, but if you walk out on him, he’ll eventually realise what he’s lost. I’m dead serious. You keep sticking by him like this, he’ll never change.”

“Hm...” that was an interesting way of thinking, you’ll admit. Maybe it was time to start looking into divorce? But... “What if that approach just turns out for the worst? You know how he is. He’ll turn the tables and play victim, putting the blame on me for not being strong enough to support him and for breaking my promise for making my love conditional-“

Chef looks at you like the pieces were threatening to cut your fingers off,“Do you even hear yourself as you speak about him?”

You stop. 

Dang it, he had a point,“But divorce... It still feels a bit too drastic. Besides, I want to give him a chance.” you offer a strong smile.

He paused entirely in his vegetable slicing this time,“A chance?”

Oh... Yes, you’ve given him plenty of chances already. You force the smile to stay on, as convincing as you tried,“W-We’ll just see how it goes. Besides, I still really wanna make this work.”

Your husband’s so-called best friend shakes his head, leaving you with a pitiful glimmer in his eye,“You’re a good woman, (Y/N). You don’t deserve this.”

Well, you wish you listened to him sooner.

And at some point, you couldn’t take it anymore.

So one day, when you got your suitcase ready and your temporary accommodation sorted in secret, you mustered the courage to break it off.

Your heart was leaping. From what? Anxiety? Excitement? Both? You’ll never know.

It took a lot to get this far. You were going to see it through the end.

No matter how messy it will be.

Obviously when you gently touched on Chris’ behaviour as the reason why you were filing for divorce, he tried denying it,“What are you talking about? I’m a changed man! Prison’s changed me for the better!”

Oh please,“Unless it’s Opposite Day, you should not be using that word.”

You weren’t afraid and that’s what startled him,"N-Now who gave you the right to declare the end of this relationship?! Only I get to choose whether to throw you out on the street or keep you around!” he then strangely turned his head to lean the smooth skin on his cheekbone in your face,“Now give me a kiss."

You almost puke in your mouth,“I’m serious, Chris. I want nothing to do with you anymore.”

“Serious? What do you know about serious? You don’t understand anything!” he barked, slamming his fist on the table.

Your eyelids remained just halfway down,“I understand plenty.”

“No, you don’t! You don’t understand that this is a really dumb decision! We’ve had so many great memories (Y/N), you and I!” his defensive tone morphs into a tone of love,“I love you so much, more than Total Drama ratings! And you give meaning to my life, more than any show I’ve ever hosted!”

There it is. He says all these words then treats you like a broken clock. You made sure he witnessed your sight tap on the papers you laid out for him.

“You’re totally being dramatic! In the worst way possible! I literally give you the life, not even middle class peasants can dream of, and this is what you do to me!?” he was raising his voice. The sign of desperation,“How do you think I feel? Have some respect!”

Respect, huh? You scoffed, rolling the pen further to him,“Oh I’ve tried to be respectful, Chris. In fact, I would much rather live as a “middle class peasant” than live with you any longer.”

He gasps, before snarling,“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.” Chris was too arrogant to get physical with you, and you knew that. The worst he was gonna do is throw petty insults at you.

But he took a scarier approach. He wasn’t fuming or swearing or raving; a smile drew on his lips instead as he sprinkled sugar laced words in your direction.

“Awww. Don’t let your anger speak for you, darling. You know sooner or later, you’re gonna regret ending us like this. And I won’t let that happen. I won’t let you regret losing me. Losing us,” now he has your waist in his arm,“Come on sweetheart, talk to me. I know you just need someone to listen.”

Listen. Is that a fucking joke?

Adoration emitted from his eyes into yours,“We can talk about this. We can talk and exchange forgiveness like we always do. Because we love each other. We’ll come around to see eye to eye and I’ll forgive you for being so annoying.” His other hand begins to comb your hair,“We can forget this ever happened and I’ll even treat you to an awesome date night. I know you really love those, and I would be more than happy to give it to you, as your beloved husband.”

...The thought was tempting.

TAKE YOUR FILTHY HAND OFF ME.

But that was a lot more motivating.

“Nice try. Your empty promises won’t work on me this time.” you push him away. That’s it. You’re strong, you’re strong, you’re strong!,“I don’t need your money. Or your time. I can do fine on my own.”

He stopped running his hand in your hair. Oh, the pride you felt when you watched his bottom lip quiver! You could watch the scene over and over again.

Your instinct to smirk is quickly cowered when Chris shoves you away, thankfully not so forceful to make you lose balance completely as he huffed, that charming persona displaced by his true ugly.

“You want your stupid divorce? Fine!” He angrily scratches the papers with his signature,“There’s your stupid divorce! Now get out of my sight before I change my mind! Only a stupid whore like you would go through with making the awesomest celebrity in the world give up on you! You better not come crawling back after selling your body around for six dollars!”

Wow! Who knew he would resort to sexualising you in such a derogatory way to try get a reaction from you? “No... That’s not true! You know I would never do that! I’m more than just my body!”

“I’ll take the six dollars over you any day.” Hah! Who cares what he had to say? He’s not your husband anymore!

He gritted his teeth as he witnessed you leave his mansion one last time,“You’re ruined, you hear me!? I’ll make sure you lose your job and never find one again!” That’s not true. That’s not true,“I’ll see to it that you live on animal carcasses disposed by yours truly for the rest of your moping days, in conditions more suffocating than maximum prison!”

Such is the behaviour of a scumbag who lost control.

That was the right thing.

Thank Heavens you had your loyal friends and your own ethical job. If any of these things were different, even by a tiny bit, you probably would have still been stuck with Chris McLean. Chained. Trapped. Miserable.

This was the right thing.

You don’t want to think about what could have happened. The important thing was, you got out of it, and he wasn’t your problem anymore. Yet a part of you felt so dissatisfied with how the whole ordeal went. I thought I would feel more different... Why do I still feel something missing? Is this actually the end of our life together?

And your mind, learning from the worst, continued the cycle of torment. Was that really the best way to end things? Why didn’t you leave sooner? Was it really the right choice? Why did you waste so much with him? Were you still in love with him? Is it really too late to start over with love again? Did you really make the worst choice yet by leaving him?

You take a deep breath, and stare back into the eyes of the solitary woman, whose worth was still blinded by the thorns of that demon.

Her brain is pounding from the silence. This might take some getting used to.

You turn the tap on and sigh. For now, you’ll take a nice long shower.

[good-beanswrites]

I wonder where Mahiru got the idea for "A Different Kind of Love". I'd say it's Amane because I'm biased. But more likely, Mahiru saw little acts of love from everyone, and she realized that romantic love isn't all there is to it.

Drabble request? *twiddles fingers* Or if not, headcanons work too.

Ough I was crying through that whole chapter, it was really beautiful ;--; (Haha, I'm biased and think it'd come from Fuuta! but) I ended up writing something with Amane and found a really sweet idea to run with. They both just want to teach one another...

“It’s not scary at all, because it’s love.” Amane gave a decisive nod, pleased with her explanation. She’d been at a loss for words lately, weighed down with exhaustion and pain, so it was nice to finally feel like she was articulating herself well. 

That is, until she got a look at the horror painted across Mahiru’s face.

“I… I’m not sure…” She shifted uncomfortably. “That doesn’t sound… quite like love.”

It was understandable that Mahiru wouldn’t understand. Amane had heard the way she talked. More importantly, Amane had heard how the others talked about her. Mahiru had a very rigid view of love. She wasn’t a narrow-minded person like some others here, but she certainly had some work to do in that area. 

Amane took a breath. She’d grown tired of trying to teach these sinful adults anything, but Mahiru was always a good listener. 

“Not all love is shown in the same way. A strong bond requires respect. Discipline.”

Mahiru still didn’t look convinced. Her smile seemed forced on her lips. She tugged absently on one of her colorful earrings. “I know love comes in all shapes and sizes. But… I don’t think it should be so… harsh.”

“Let us take Kajiyama for an example.” Amane folded her hands in her lap. It felt good to be speaking like this, as equals. “His behavior in the first trial was nothing but harsh. And yet, you’re the one who spoke up on his behalf, pointing out ways that he cared to the others.”

“That’s true. But Fuuta never hurt anyone.”

“Fuuta has hurt many people.”

“W–well yes, but I meant…” Her face twisted into the one and only expression Amane hated to see from her. A sad sort of smile. There was love in it – which is the reason Amane tolerated it at all – but so much pity, as well. 

As quick as it had come, it was replaced by one of her signature little smiles. “I’ll tell you what, will you play a little game with big sis Mahiru?”

Amane’s mouth was open to reject the idea until Mahiru hurriedly added, “I do love games. I don’t get to play as many, now that the warden didn’t forgive me…”

She huffed. Mahiru turned her round, brown eyes on her. Amane let out another noisy breath. “What is it…?” 

Mahiru clapped her hands together. “Yay~! It’ll be fun, I promise! Let’s pick out the ways that the prisoners show their love! We’ll keep track of it during the day, and keep score at night. You said it yourself, there are so many ways that people show it. Let’s try and notice them all!” She held a finger to her lips. “But we’ll keep it secret. And we’ll try to find something for everyone.”

Amane scoffed. “We’re not going to find one for everyone.” There were a few people who were not graced with the capacity for real love, she had found. 

“Well then, that’s what will make it an interesting game, yeah~?”

—

Mahiru bid Amane a good night. She kept the notebook open on her lap for a moment more. 

The two had busied themselves keeping a secret scoreboard throughout the past few weeks. Mahiru was worried the idea would fizzle out quickly, (as most of her spontaneous plans usually did,) but she hadn’t accounted for how committed Amane was when she put her mind to something. 

Each and every night, Amane would appear in Mahiru’s cell, picking up the notebook to add in the day’s entries. Mahiru would scramble to come up with a few of her own, as she’d forgotten to pay attention throughout the day.

Though she hadn’t actually noticed any decrease in game-playing, the warden’s verdict had hurt her in other ways. If Es rejected her love, what did she have left? If her love truly did hurt others, and Milgram thought she should be punished for it, wouldn’t it be better for her to never show it again? Now and then she’d be crushed under the weight of the verdict, the voices, the guilt. She considered withholding all the kindness within her – what if it got someone else killed? Hadn’t it already come close?

But this little exercise with Amane… 

Originally, the idea had come to her as a way to prove that not a single entry in their notebook featured any harm – no screamed words, no contradictory rules, and certainly no physical pain. It would be a way to keep Amane from staying in her cell all day. Mahiru wasn’t sure if the others necessarily appreciated the nonstop surveillance from Amane’s single, bright eye, but Mahiru knew what a blessing it really was. 

To her surprise, she’d felt swaying within her own heart, as well.

Mahiru ran her finger across the chart, lingering on various entries. Some were as big and grand as she had expected: “held Muu’s hand when she was nervous after a nightmare;” “complimented Mikoto’s appearance after he’d taken a long time to style his hair.” Physical touch, gifts, compliments, it all made sense to her.

Other lines had surprised her: “changed the subject when Kazui started looking uncomfortable;” “explained a joke to Haruka when he didn’t understand it at first;” “left Yuno alone when she seemed too tired to talk.” Amane brought much more variety when she wrote down the things she’d witnessed

Just as Mahiru was teaching Amane something about love, the girl was revealing something to her about it. The mere act of picking out others’ acts of kindness, recognizing when they were trying, even imperfectly, acknowledging when the others touched something deep inside of themselves – it all proved something new.

Her finger paused over a recent addition in Amane’s neat handwriting. “Spoke to me like an adult.” 

It was in a column filled otherwise with Mahiru’s pen strokes. Shidou’s.

“Huh…”

[pedroschka]

not my type

Joseph Quinn x reader

words: 1.9k fluff

Summary: one sided feelings can destroy friendships, so you and Joe make it very clear that you both are not each other's type, pinky promise clear

A/n: @ghostinthebackofyourhead grab your favorite bread and (hopefully) enjoy because I'm your secret Santa!! thanks to @quinnyfairy for organising this <3

Mid laugh, brown eyes crinkling and his head thrown back, that's the blurry image of your best friend in front of you for the last two minutes.

"Joe as much I love to see your little potato head but your screen is frozen."

" ugh, shit! The bloody wifi connection at my parents' is the worst. Wait a second!" his voice on the other end is a bit muffled as he seems to be moving around, trying to fix it.

It was one day after Christmas and you and Joe are trying to have your own little celebration via video call while you both are at your family's and didn't want to wait till you eventually see each other in person again, unpredictable with Joe's busy schedule nowadays anyway. So you both had sent each other's presents via post and now wanted to unpack them together.

So now you sit on your bed in your old bedroom, presents scattered around you and your tablet in front of you with the frozen image of your laughing friend.

" OK, what about now?" Joe's face finally in time again and him waving at the camera

" yes, now get started I already tried peaking but you really are serious about your sticky tape"

" and see how it came in handy" his cocky little smile makes you roll your eyes while grabbing the first present on your left which already has a bit of wrapping paper ripped out, but sticky tape all around it preventing you from making out what it could be.

At the end, you both sit in a colorful mass out of wrapping paper, presents sorted in a little pile beside you, and now updating each other on the newest family tea.

" no! I swear my aunt was full-on gushing about how Eddie looked like her ex-boyfriend's when she was a teen and started showing pictures of you as Eddie all around the dining table, it was soo uncomfortable!" you comically shuddered and Joe's snickering like a little kid at your theatrics.

As comfortable and at ease you were now around him was the complete opposite when you first met each other a year ago.

You sat on your friend's couch, phone in hand, and playing some stupid game, that only seems to come to use in social situations out of ultimate boredom, but trying to look very busy for the people around you. Questioning why your friend even thought it was a good idea to invite you to one of her parties, celebrating whatever with a bunch of her actor friends, when you were the epitome of socially awkward and just overall really bad at meeting new people.

You tried, you really tried to be a part of some conversations, standing in a group full of, on first sight, cliché book extroverts, all of them with interesting lives and using big words talking about different plays, with you just standing there and fake laughing at their jokes you didn't understand and attempting to stop comparing yourself with them. Which didn't work so after a few exhausting hours in which you've been ignored or got an awkward "was nice meeting you" after you ranted too much about a topic you finally could understand you gave up. Your social battery drained and you loathing in self-pity.

Loud cheers and greetings make you look up from your phone, great even more people. The new guest is a very ordinary-looking guy, plain light washed baggy jeans hanging low on his hips, a plain white shirt, sneakers. Not bad on the eye with tousled brown curls as well as brown eyes but not really your type.

Still he held an aura around him that forced you to keep your attention on him, apparently the people around him felt the same effect as they were hanging on every word that was coming out of his mouth. Or is he... Famous around here?! And you are just the only one who has absolutely no idea who he is?

But you're already admiring him for a different reason, Looking so awkward but at the same time so charmingly charismatic and being able to find the right words and topic for each person. You couldn't help to be slightly jealous.

Forced to look down again as he looked across the room and dangerously close in your direction you continued your game, only looking up again as you felt the couch dip as someone sat themselves beside you, and you hastily tried to turn your phone away to not get caught.

"well, that looks fun" shit.

Unknown ordinary looking /maybe famous guy is smiling at you and nodding at your phone

"uggh, kinda" and your brain is letting you down again.

But he doesn't seem bothered by your brain-dead state and tried again to engage you in a conversation, ending up with him having your phone and you, hanging half over his shoulder, explaining to him how to play the game.

"oh, I'm Joe by the way!"

You met Joe a few times after that again and eventually exchanged numbers which resulted in a weird and chaotic friendship. With his ability to make you feel so comfortable around him and just being yourself, he has to endure your ranting over the most ridiculous topics or oversharing the most private things, but it doesn't seem to bother him, on the contrary, he seems to even encourage your weirdness and just adapt to it.

Because of this connection between you both, you lost count of how many times people thought you both were dating or how many times your friends and family tried to play matchmaker, so a pinky promise between you and joe was made that you both are on the same page, that you are not each other's type, both of you already familiar with how one-sided feelings can destroy a friendship, so better making sure at the beginning right?

It was now new years eve and like you planned with Joe in your last call you both were gonna drive over to a friend's house who's throwing a party to celebrate it together, in person this time.

Joe's gonna be at your place to pick you up in nearly 20 minutes and you're still sitting in front of your wardrobe in only your bathrobe and still wet hair, nibbling nervously on your fingernails and looking over all your clothes, eyes wide with panic debating what you should wear to look presentable for him.

Which is absolutely ridiculous because Joe has already seen you in your absolute worst states, coming over to you with pimple cream all over your face, greasy hair, and sloppy oversized shirts with holes and stains you couldn't even explain.

But you haven't seen each other for nearly a month now, well except for the few video calls but that's just different, and now you are a nervous mess, suddenly worried about your appearance and you hate it.

The buzzing of your doorbell makes you jump slightly, spraying the last bit of hairspray on your head and turning the music off, which you needed to hype yourself up, and speedwalking to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Joe's standing in front of you in black slacks and a slightly striped white shirt, the last button undone and a necklace peeking out of it, and you feel your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

With a happy call of your name, he went straight into a hug and you suddenly felt distracted by the smell of his perfume, still the same one you smelt a thousand times but different regardless, Like his arms around you, squeezing you firmly into him, it's like your sensory perception is on high alert and suddenly everything feels more intense.

The car ride to the party is awkward to say at least, your nerves preventing you from coming up with anything other than occasionally humming or nodding as an answer, and after a few more tries from Joe he gave up, thinking maybe you're just nervous again because of all the people that are gonna be there and needed a few more minutes for yourself, so the car becomes silent and you hate it because that was your least concern right now, you felt like a bad friend, not seeing each other for a month and you can't even talk to him because this bloody nervous feeling just won't go away. So you both just stare at the road in front of you.

It's loud and full and lights flickering everywhere and you're so overwhelmed and tense that the weird feeling is forgotten for a moment and you're clinging to Joe, following him around like a lost puppy. Him ordering drinks for you both and chatting with people, trying to include you, taking you with him for smoke breaks, the only time when you both are separated is when one of you has to go to the toilet.

A few minutes before midnight a group of people had gathered on the balcony, with them you and Joe, shouting the countdown to the new year and watching fireworks exploding and illuminating the night sky.

" happy new year!" you screamed in each other's faces and laughed as you tackle each other in a big hug. People around you doing the same or walking around and giving the traditional New Year kiss.

Observing this you both looked at each other and shrugged while giggling, both slightly tipsy, and pecked each other on the lips. Physical contact wasn't unfamiliar to you, both being touchy when around people you feel comfortable enough, small kisses when saying goodbye, or cuddling together on your small sofa when watching some movies weren't new either. What was new was the feeling you felt as your lips met his.

As you separated you looked into each other's eyes, you always thought that his eyes were beautiful, even told him so, but you never felt such strong emotions when looking into them, unable to hold eye contact your gaze trailed to his lips, so full and soft looking and you never felt such a strong urge either to be near them. Subconscious you both lean in again and your lips met again but this time for a real kiss.

Warm flooded your body and you can't think of anything else other than the feeling of his lips against yours. His hands found the back of your neck to bring you even closer and you copied him, trailing your fingers through his curls, both of you starving for each other's presence and hungry for more, captivated and lost in your own little world.

Until a person stumbles into you and you remember again where you are.

Both of you catching your breath as you separated again, waking up from the trance-like state, emotional chaos whirling up in you again because you just made out with your best friend, with which you made a silly pinky promise and made very clear to not be each other's type to save this friendship but now you experienced the best kiss you ever had and when you look at his face now he is so beautiful and you can't help to want to kiss those lips again but you were also so overwhelmed because what the fuck does this all mean now.

Luckily Joe answers your questions as he leans in again for a third kiss, shorter but still as breathtaking.

" I know we promised to be not each other's type but do you wanna go on a date with me?" he asked against your lips and you both giggled as you nodded 'yes' before going into another kiss.

(reblogs and comments are very appreciated additional to your likes)