#NEW MOODBOARD YAY!

[zorrasucia]

this mess was yours (now your mess is mine) - Part 1

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (6.4k)

Tags: Smut, Set two(ish) years before the present aka the New York years, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy (my beloved), Mutual Masturbation, P in V Sex, Thigh Riding, Handjob, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Friends with Benefits, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: Carmy is your front door neighbor. You fall head first into a friends with benefits situationship. What could possibly go wrong?

"You know, I had never met someone so committed to ghosting. Leaving the city... That's a whole other level," you said, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Not as bitter as the sight of Carmy, though. He looked beautiful still, eyes wide with surprise and face red with embarrassment. You were in the alley behind the restaurant, where he had dragged you away from the staff mumbling something about "an old friend from New York."

"I've been uh-" his hands were fiddling with a spoon somewhat manically.

"I know," you interrupted. "I read your spread in Food and Wine. I was at the dentist and they had the magazine. Imagine my surprise when I saw that my neighbor, sorry, ex neighbor and ex friend with benefits, was the main story of a culinary magazine."

You were being melodramatic, you knew. But you had earned it. It had been months, fucking months, and not a word - he could be dead for all you knew.

"I told you I was a chef," he said sheepishly.

"Fuck you, Carmy."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fair," he admitted with a deep sigh. "Do you, uh, wanna talk?"

"Yes."

2 years earlier

The elevator of your shitty, overpriced building was out of order for the third time this year. Fuck. As you climbed up the stairs you started hearing someone on the phone, his voice gruff.

"Sugar called. She is worried about the restaurant, she's worried about you..."

As you got closer you started to make out the voice on the other side of the phone, rougher, defensive, and very loud.

"My baby brother is worried about me? Well, fuck me. I must be a real goddamn mess, huh?"

"Don't be like that, Mikey. If you need me to come back, just fucking say it."

It was your front door neighbor, you realized. He was leaning on the wall by his door, rummaging through his backpack, his face scrunched up and red.

"Don't bother coming over, hot shot, everything's under control," the voice on the phone said, a little condescending.

"That your stupid little brother? Tell him to go fuck himself, will you, Mike?" a second voice chimed in, followed by the defeaning sound of a hundred knives and forks falling to the ground. "Fuck me!"

And the line went silent. You stood awkwardly, hand on your doorknob, waiting. You glanced at your neighbor and found his gaze vacant as he stood in front of his apartment door, keys in hand, standing still. He honestly looked on the edge of a meltdown and your heart ached for him.  

"It's Carmy, right?"

Your voice woke him up from his daydream - probably more like day-nightmare.

"Yeah. Hi," he managed, absent. He was still fiddling with his keys.

"No offense but you look like shit," you said and it made him huff half a laugh - he looked pretty when he smiled. "Wanna come in for a drink?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Carmy replied and followed you inside the apartment.

"So what do you want?" you asked, head inside the fridge. "I have beer-"

"Actually, uh, I don't drink," Carmy said like he had just remembered.

"Oh, so coffee? It's a little late but I think I have decaf somewhere..." you offered gently, moving towards the pantry.

'It's- never mind," he said, looking conflicted, walking backwards, to the door. "I just didn't want to be alone tonight," he winced and your heart skipped a beat. "That sounded awful. Sorry, I- uh- I'll leave."

"It's okay," you said, a shy smile curving your lips. "I've been trying to hit on you for months so it's more than okay."

"Oh!" Carmy froze, eyebrows arched, stunned.

"Yeah," you looked down at the floor, face flushed. "Gave up for a minute there. Thought you had a girlfriend or boyfriend so I-"

"No, there's nobody," he rushed to say. "I'm just busy."

"Workaholic?" you guessed.

"Yeah," he admitted.

You moved towards him, slow, Carmy's blue eyes following the movement of your hips. You stood right in front of him, one hand raising to touch his arm, up his shoulder and then holding his face.

He blurted: "You're pretty."

"You're cute too," you replied, smiling.

You leaned forward and kissed him. Carmy returned the kiss, gentle, soft, your hands tangling in his hair. You parted for a second, eyes searching his, finding him flushed. It was only a second of hesitation before he grabbed your waist and pulled you close, kissing hungrily, his tongue touching yours, holding you tight like you were a lifeline - like he needed this as much as you did.

"Bedroom?" you asked breathily the moment he started kissing your neck.

He nodded and pushed you gently past the kitchen. It was a good thing he had a vague idea where it was.

You hit the edge of the mattress and leaned backwards, dragging him into bed with you, opening your legs to let him settle there. He kept kissing your jaw and collarbone, tickling your skin with his curls, humming while you raked your nails through his scalp. Suddenly, his hands moved from holding your waist to squeezing your ass; you tugged at his hair in surprise and Carmy let out a sound between a yelp and a moan. It made you melt and giggle, bringing him closer still.

Your hands moved down, tickling as they reached the hem of his shirt; Carmy sat up and removed it, desperate.

"Fuck," you muttered, your fingers tracing the lines and planes of his torso for a moment. He was gorgeous.

It had gotten way too hot inside the room and his touch was making you dizzy, so you got rid of your shirt too, a plain beige bra underneath. His fingers traced the edges of the cups, leaving goosebumps on your skin, making you sigh with pleasure. It wasn't enough, though.

"Wait," you gasped and he froze immediately.

"You alright?" he asked, looking up, like he was scared he had done something wrong.

You cupped his face gently. "I'm just taking it off," you giggled, letting go of his face to open the clasp and tug it down. "This isn't even a nice one," you lamented, thinking of a dark lace ensemble, used only once and with someone less enthusiastic about you than Carmy. Still, his eyes became impossibly wide once your bra was off.

"Shit," Carmy whispered, burying his face in the valley between your breasts, eager, leaving kisses everywhere, carefully sucking on your nipples. You arched your back and held him tighter, urging him to get closer - you wished he was a little rougher but the tender way that he was going about things was nice. You felt cared for.

Your hands went down his stomach, fingers hooking in his belt loops, tugging with need. He stopped for a moment, looking straight into your eyes.

"Do you want me to-?" he hesitated.

"We can just keep making out but I'd like you to fuck me," you said plainly. "If you want."

He nodded, dazed. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

You tugged at his trousers, fighting with the belt buckle for a moment in your haste.

"Hold on. Let me," he said, getting rid of his slacks while you took both your jeans and underwear off at once. He gave you a wide eyed stare as he finally threw his boxer briefs carelessly to the floor.

The atmosphere was charged as you laid down facing each other.

Almost as if to break the tension, one of your hands reached out for his cock, caressing it, making him groan.

"So soft," you mumbled.

He rushed to touch you too, cupping your pussy. His fingers were shaking a little, which gave you pause. You touched his wrist, rubbing your thumb on his tattooed skin. He looked at you.

"Sorry, I'm uh-"

"Nervous?" you prompted and he nodded. "Yeah, same. I've had a dry spell of... Almost eight months. You?"

"Years," he said, clearing his throat.

"Fuck. That's tough," you said with a sympathetic smile, your hand letting go of his cock to caress his shoulder blade instead, reassuring. "How are you at following directions?"

"Honestly, pretty fucking great," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"We can work with that."

You grabbed his right hand, and took his middle finger in your mouth, sucking on it thoroughly, a shiver running down Carmy's spine. You guided his hand back between your folds, dragging it up the length of your cunt until the tip of his finger was right on your clit. You closed your eyes in pleasure, his long, calloused fingers feeling delicious on you.

"There," you said breathily.

"How?" Carmy asked.

"Circles."

Your eyes fluttered once he started moving, slow and feathery. Your hand caressed the head of his cock and the sudden touch made Carmy's hand stutter and then stop completely.

"You first," he mumbled, taking your hand and placing it on his chest instead.

"A gentleman," you joked breathily, tracing one of his tattoos with the tip of your nail. You were getting flustered again now that his finger was moving faster. "A little to your right... Fuck, that feels good, Carmy."

He offered you a wicked smile in return.

"Faster?" he asked.

You nodded, biting your lower lip.

"Keep doing it just like that. Don't change a fucking thing," you pleaded, moving closer, your leg over his hip to give him more access, holding tight to his shoulders. "Fuck, your hands! So good, so good, so good," you mumbled nonsensically into his ear and Carmy smiled wide. You started kissing him frantically, getting closer and closer. "Oh!"

You stiffened in his hold, legs shaking a little, and a long moan leaving your lips. His finger was still moving, helping you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"You okay?" he asked after a minute.

"Yeah," you sighed, and leaned to kiss him, all tongue, lust drunk. "Thank you."

Your hand reached for his cock, finding it achingly hard, Carmy's eyes rolled back at the touch. He moaned. There was a lot of precum on his tip. Was all that from just hearing and seeing you?

"I'll probably fucking embarrass myself but I really wanna be inside you," Carmy managed breathily.

You smiled and grabbed a condom from your bedside table.

"Do you want me to put it on?" you asked when you saw him hesitate to take it out.

"Go ahead," he watched your hands roll the condom on, eyes wide as you held him. "Fuck."

He grabbed your leg and hoisted it back over his hip. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you sighed, guiding his cock inside you with one hand and holding his arm with the other. "I know it's been a while so don't worry if you don't last," you said.

Did you want Carmy to fuck you hard and long? Yes. But you were reasonable.

He nodded sheepishly, moving gently until he was completely buried inside you.

"Fuck, you're so warm," Carmy said, eyes closed in concentration. "So tight."

You chuckled against the side of his face, flushed and hot.

"You feel amazing too," you said, the stretch of your pussy delicious and satisfying. You kissed his temple and his cheek, already a little sweaty and salty. "You can move now."

He didn't need to be told twice. The slam of his hips was frantic from the beginning, feral sounds coming from his chest, it was exactly what you needed. You realized Carmy was probably working his shit out while fucking you but it didn't feel like he was using you at all. He was completely present: his eyes on your face, his mouth on your skin, and his hands caressing you.

"Are you good?" he asked.

"So fucking good," you replied, your recent orgasm leaving you sensitive and electrified. "You're already lasting longer than I thought you would," you said with a giggle.

"Fuck off," he said lightly.

Suddenly, you went back to the third or fourth time you had seen Carmy, crossing paths in the staircase, the primal part of your brain fantasizing about what it would be like to have sex with him, you on top, his strong hands holding your hips possessively. If this was a one time thing, you should make the most of it, right?

"Can I-? Fuck. Will you let me ride you, Carmy?" you said.

His pupils dilated with desire. "Yes. Fuck," he blurted out, rolling over almost immediately.

You settled on his hips, the angle doing wonders for you - his tip brushed your G spot and your clit touched the hair at the base of his cock.

"Fuck."

You took his hands and placed them over your hips, while you pressed your palms to his sculpted chest.

"You're so fucking hot. It's ridiculous," you said, wild with need. It made him blush down to his collarbones.

You kept your eyes on his as you lifted your hips, then sat back down on him.

"Holy shit," he gasped.

"Yeah?" you checked in.

"Yeah. Keep going," he pleaded.

And you did. You started building an undulating rhythm, Carmy's mouth was open and his brows were furrowed. His blue eyes took you in completely: the bounce of your breasts, the curve of your stomach, the way your torso arched with every stroke. His hands moved upwards, cupping your breasts, thumbing your nipples, unconsciously making you go faster and squeeze your cunt around his cock.

"Please," Carmy keened.

You felt him struggle, he was close.

"Hold on just a little bit," you whispered. "I'll make it good for you, Carmy."

He nodded, red in the face.

You began riding him hard and fast, the bed squeaking underneath you.

"Oh, fuck!" he moaned. "Fuck, shit, Jesus Christ..."

You went faster and faster until the string of curses leaving his lips became completely unintelligible and his body tensed underneath you.

"Come on," you leaned forward, your hair caressing his chest and your lips grazing his cheek. "Let go."

He came with a series of guttural groans, holding you tight as your hips kept moving, rutting into his, chasing the last remnants of pleasure you both could get.

He let out a long exhale and you dismounted, your thighs shaking at the effort.

"You okay?" he asked. He looked slightly embarrassed as he took off the condom and tied it up.

"Just a little sore," you reassured him, settling next to him on the mattress.

His hand caressed your thigh, trying to soothe the ache in some small way - the gesture made you melt inside a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, his face was sweaty and beautiful.

"What do you do for a living?" you asked.

"I'm a chef," Carmy replied simply.

"Huh. I would have guessed tattoo artist," you said honestly, a finger tracing the ink on his forearm.

"I get that," he gave you a soft smile. "You?"

"I work at a bookstore."

"Makes sense," he hummed, eyeing the packed bookshelves in your room and the small piles of books on your bedside table. You stayed in silence for a while, just caressing each other, his fingers tracing pictures on your thighs. "That was amazing," he said.

"Yeah," you agreed, giddy. Your orgasm must have given you courage because you heard yourself saying: "Wanna do it again sometime?"

Carmy turned to look at you, slightly alarmed, like everything that had happened was a dream and he was suddenly awake. For a second, you were scared that he would bolt out of your bed and your apartment.

"I'm not good with relationships," he said in the end.

"Oh! No, I meant the sex bit," you smiled. "I'm not looking for a relationship either."

You weren't. Your life was enough of a fucking mess without some guy that could upend it by cheating on you or knocking you up.

"Hey, no need to say yes. I'm a big girl, I can take no for an answer," you reassured him.

He rolled over and kissed you hard.

"Yes, I want to do this again."

~

Carmy had left without waking you the morning after you fucked, scribbling a note on a napkin: "Early morning at the restaurant. See you soon? C."

You didn't see him for a few days though, not even a glimpse as you crossed each other in the hallway, but you hadn't stopped thinking about him - his hands, his eyes, the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you... You thought about him while you touched yourself late that following night, gasping his name as you came.

It was a relief then to see him about to knock on your door two nights later, takeaway container in hand, as you climbed up the stairs.

"Carmy," you said fondly.

"Oh!" He turned with wide eyes. "I just wanted to- Would you like to come over for some food?"

You beamed. "Did you make it?"

"Sort of," he shrugged. "It's- uh- leftovers from the restaurant. They're good though."

"Well, how can I say no to leftovers?" you teased and followed him inside his apartment.

It was the same floor plan as yours, only mirrored, and with less stuff - a lot less.

"You sure you live here?" you asked, eyeing the empty, stark rooms.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I don't spend much time in it, though."

Carmy warmed up the food and placed it carefully on two plates, it looked like he was making an effort to be casual about it.

"What kind of restaurant do you work in?" you asked as he handed you a plate. "It smells delicious, by the way."

"Uh, fine dining," he said absently, guiding you to the couch. "You like risotto? Didn't think to ask, sorry."

"It's okay," you shrugged, taking a forkful and almost immediately moaning in delight. "Shut the fuck up! You made this?"

Carmy blushed and looked down. "We never do portions this big but I figured you'd be hungry," he said.

"You thought correctly," you said, swaying a little from how good the food was. It made him give you an endeared look. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he insisted.

You kept eating in comfortable silence.

"Truly one of the best meals I've had," you said earnestly once you were finished.

Carmy took your clean plate and his half finished one to the kitchen, coming back to sit beside you.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine," you said, half turning in your seat to take a good look at him. "Sales wise it was shit, according to my manager, but one little girl told me I was cool, so..."

He smiled wide. "Did she get anything?"

"Well, she wanted a book on planets and space. Her parents wanted to buy her an encyclopedia of some sort. It was for kids but still..." you scrunched your nose. "It took some convincing but her parents finally caved in."

"I think she was right," he said softly.

"Mmm?"

"I think you're pretty cool," he said, leaning over to kiss you.

It was gentle, measured, lovely.

"And you?" you asked when you parted. "How was your day?"

Something dark clouded over Carmy's face. "Let's not talk about my day," he rasped and then kissed you hard.

It was wild, hungry, needy.

You scooted closer to Carmy, running your fingers through his hair, humming in pleasure as his tongue touched yours. The angle was weird, and so you climbed over the couch, aiming to straddle his hips but settling on his thigh by accident. He bit on your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

"Fuck, Carmy," you blurted out.

His lips started kissing the length of your neck, down your collarbone, over your shirt. You took the hint and took your shirt off, proud that your bra was a little nicer than last time.

"Shit," he mumbled, kissing your breasts, up the cup, and through the lace.

You started grinding on his clothed thigh to relieve the ache between your legs, moaning every few thrusts.

"Is that good?" he asked breathily.

"Yeah," you sighed.

You could feel every seam of your jeans against his muscled thigh. If you weren't so horny, maybe you would feel a little embarrassed about dry humping your neighbor like a fucking teenager but Carmy didn't seem to mind - if anything, he seemed to like it. He held tight to your hips and angled his leg upward so that it would rub against your crotch easier, his eyes marveling at the way your body moved.

"You look so fucking hot," he mumbled into your skin. "Been thinking about you for days... About fucking you again... Making you feel good..."

You had always been a sucker for praise and there was something about Carmy saying nice things on that dirty tone that made you melt.

"Yeah?" you held his face, tilting it so he could look at you. "I've been touching myself thinking of you. Been making myself come thinking of your fingers on my clit and your cock inside me."

"Fuck," he uttered, mouth agape. After a moment of just staring at you, he surged forward and kissed you, mouth open, passionate. The crotch of your jeans was soaked with your arousal, wetting Carmy's slacks too. His hands on your hips urged you to go faster, to get your release.

"Close?" he asked.

You moaned needily into his mouth as a response.

Carmy slid the straps of your bra downwards,

not bothering to open it, and he took one of your nipples in his mouth and the other between his fingers.

"Shit! Fuck!" you cursed, the tightness in your belly snapping while you kept grinding on Carmy's thigh. He left soft kisses on the skin of your chest and caressed your waist while you came down from your high.

"So hot," he mumbled. "So fucking hot."

You giggled, and caressed his face not knowing what to say. You moved to straddle him properly, eager to feel his hardness against your core. He groaned.

"Do you wanna fuck me?" you asked flirtatiously, your palm touching right over his erection.

Carmy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I do," he panted. "Fuck."

You leaned downward, kissing the side of his neck and face. "Where do you keep your condoms?"

He froze.

"Shit."

You sat back, an incredulous look on your face.

"Carmy, really?"

He was flushed with embarrassment. "Even if I had one, it would be expired."

"I'll go get one from my apartment," you said. When you tried to get up, his strong hands kept your hips in place.

"Stay," he pleaded.

"Carmy, you're cute as fuck but no," you declared, rearranging the straps of your bra. "It's just across the hall."

"Wait, wait. I didn't mean we should do it without-" he searched for your gaze. "I meant I don't want you to leave, that's all. We don't have to do anything tonight."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he exhaled, arching his neck to kiss you sweetly.

You giggled. "Next time I come over there better condoms."

"Definitely," he agreed.

You kept making out for a while, his calloused hands tracing pictures on your back, and his tongue touching yours gently. You moved forward a little and pressed on his erection accidentally. He let out a loud groan.

"Sorry," you apologized. "There's something we can do," you said softly, undoing his belt and the buttons of his slacks. "Can I touch you?"

"Yes."

You took his cock in your hand, spreading his precum down the length of it. Your other hand went inside your jeans, gathering arousal to use as lube. Carmy shivered underneath you.

"What do you like?" you asked, pumping his cock slowly, watching Carmy's chest move quicker as you did.

"The tip, with your thumb," he managed. You did as he asked, swiping over his slit, once. He nodded, biting his lip. "Yeah, when I'm close I do that. And just fast. I like it fast."

"Would you let me start slow, though?"

He smiled, running a hand through his messed up hair. "Yeah."

You tortured him a little, to be honest.

You caressed every ridge and vein on his cock, lovingly, slowly, and you kissed his lips through it, swallowing his moans.

"Fuck, it never feels this way," he praised. "So good."

"I'm going to go faster now, the way you like it, okay?"

He nodded desperately. "Please."

You pumped him as fast as you could, watching him become a mess under you, rolling his eyes and shaking.

"Fuck, I'm close," he keened.

You kept on that frantic rhythm with one hand and caressed his head with the other, like he told you. In seconds he was coming all over your hand and forearm, some droplets falling on your belly and chest. You were a goddamn mess but so was Carmy - his eyes unfocused and an absent smile on his face.

"Good?" you asked proudly.

"Tremendous," he chuckled and moved to kiss you holding you tight to his body.

"Careful, I've got- uh-" you giggled, gesturing at the stripes of cum all over your right side.

"Fuck, didn't think about that, wait."

He took his shirt off and wiped you clean with it, kissing you deeply once he was done. He dragged you to lie on the couch with him.

"Sorry about the mess," he apologized.

"Sex is messy," you shrugged.

"Guess I don't have much experience on the subject," Carmy said absently.

"I find it hard to believe with the way you look," you flirted, caressing the muscles of his arm.

"What if- uh- what if I told you you are my first?" he said.

"As in the first person you had sex with?" you confirmed.

He nodded.

"I'd find it even harder to believe," you said, tracing the contours of his face with your finger, the arch of his nose. "But I'd thank you for telling me."

Carmy smiled with relief and kissed you again.

"Can I ask you something?" he said softly.

"Sure."

"When you came thinking of me, what were you doing?"

You blushed and covered your face, the reality of what you had said hitting just now.

"Uh," you hesitated, "well, I was fucking my fingers."

"Would you show me?"

You turned to look at him, his eyes were dark and dead serious.

"Fuck, Carmy," you exhaled. "I thought you were wiped out and this was your idea of pillow talk."

"Oh, I'm wiped the fuck out," he agreed. "It just seems like you aren't," he added with a smile.

You smirked. "Alright."

With your eyes on his, you unbuttoned your jeans and dragged them down your legs along with your underwear, both still wet with your arousal. You opened your legs, one dangling over the edge of the couch and the other pressed against Carmy's body. His hand hooked under the bend of your knee, holding you, his thumb drawing circles on your skin. You shivered.

Carmy's eyes followed your hand as it rested on your mound, your middle and ring fingers going easily inside your cunt with how wet you were.

"Fuck," he said, entranced, watching your fingers go in, knuckle by knuckle.

You arched your back and moaned. Every feeling was heightened by having Carmy watch you. You started curling your fingers inside you, brushing your G spot, gasping. Then, you began thrusting your fingers in and out, your hips chasing the feeling too. Before you could get too carried away, Carmy touched your arm, his fingers closing on the wrist that was giving you pleasure.

"Can I?" he asked.

"Yes," you panted, your cunt clenching at the thought of his calloused hands.

You took your fingers out with a wince. His middle finger traced the contour of your clit, making you shiver and giggle nervously.

"Tell me if I'm fucking up," he said shyly.

"Yes." You kissed the side of his face, encouraging him as his index poked at your entrance. "Little lower. Yes."

He had no trouble fitting in one finger with how wet you were. The second one was a tighter fit.

"Slow, slow," you instructed him, humming with pleasure at the stretch, grabbing at his bicep once every knuckle was inside you. "Fuck..."

He curled his fingers inside you, caressing your walls gently. You let out a loud moan when he touched your G spot.

"Oh! Is that-?" he asked. "It feels different."

"Yeah," you whined because he stopped. "Keep going, Carmy, please."

"Right, right, sorry," he chuckled and continued, his long fingers reaching the depths of you, growing more confident and bolder in their movements.

One of your hands was leaving crescent moon imprints on his bicep - your nails digging in his flesh as your pleasure grew.

"My clit, touch my clit, please," you begged and he rushed to press his thumb on it, circling it, your body responding immediately, arching and clenching.

When you opened your eyes, something proud was coloring Carmy's features.

"Keep going, you're doing so good, making me feel so fucking good, Carmy," you mumbled, burying your face in his neck, panting. Your words made him go faster and a little rougher. "Fuck, you're gonna make me come."

Your voice was so whiny you didn't recognize it but you couldn't concentrate on that, not when Carmy was three knuckles deep inside you, hitting your G spot with every stroke, breathing hard against your skin.

"Are you gonna think about this the next time you touch yourself?" he rasped and you unraveled, seeing stars while you rutted against his hand, drowning your moans on his shoulder, grabbing the cushions of his couch like they were the only thing keeping you grounded.

"You okay?" Carmy asked after what felt like a long time, though probably it only was a couple of minutes. Your cunt was still throbbing deliciously around his fingers.

"I'm perfect," you sighed, grabbing his face for a messy kiss.

"Wiped out?" he asked.

"Not sure I'll be able to walk back to my apartment actually," you giggled, eyes half lidded. "You are truly incredible at following instructions," you teased.

"Told you," he played along, kissing your shoulder gently as he took out his fingers. "You can sleep over if you want," he offered.

"Nah, I need to take a shower," you sighed, a little sad that you had to get rid of the smell of Carmy and sex. You grabbed your shirt and underwear from the floor. "I'll sleep here next time," you promised.

"Next time?" Carmy asked, watching you get up and get dressed.

"Yeah, next time," you insisted flirtatiously. "When you buy condoms."

He laughed.

You leaned downward to kiss him sweetly.

"Thank you. It was good, so good," you said earnestly.

"Fuck. You were amazing too," he replied.

You walked to the door. "Good night, Carmy."

"Good night."

~

You were brushing your hair in front of the bathroom mirror, fresh out of the shower, warm and relieved after a long day. An insistent knock on your door made you roll your eyes in irritation.

"Who is it?"

"Carmy!"

Your heart raced a little and you smiled. You opened the door and sure enough, there he was, disheveled and beautiful, wrapped up in his wool coat.

"Hello," you said with a shy smile.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," Carmy said, gesturing vaguely at your wet hair and bathrobe. You rearranged it and he blushed a little - which was terribly endearing considering he had seen your pussy up close not even a week ago.

"You're not interrupting anything," you replied. Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out and touched his cheek, red from the cold. "You're freezing. Want to come in? I can make us some tea."

"Yeah, that would be nice," he walked in behind you, toed off his shoes, left his coat on the couch, and followed you inside the kitchen.

"Chamomile?"

"Sure."

You went through the preparations in silence, there was a sigh of relief once he grabbed the mug you were offering and held it between his hands.

"You okay?" you asked, leaning on the counter and taking a sip of your tea. "Bad day?"

"Always," Carmy replied and some part of you knew he wasn't joking.

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "Is it really that bad inside a kitchen?"

"Whatever you're imagining, it's ten times worse," he rasped. "Twenty if you have an asshole for a boss."

"And do you?"

"Oh, yeah. The worst," he took a big gulp of tea - you were almost certain he had burnt his tongue with it.

"Then why do you do it?" you tilted your head, searching for his eyes.

"It's- It's- " he hesitated. "It's everything. It's a way of communicating, it's taking care of other people, it's beautiful and complex..."

"And you love it," you concluded.

"I do. Yeah," Carmy ended with a heavy sigh.

"Wait here," you said, handing him your mug, padding to your bedroom and coming back with a coffee table book. "Here," you exchanged your mug for the hardcover and sat on the counter.

Carmy took it and looked at it carefully. It was a book on fine dining - pages and pages of beautifully plated dishes from different restaurants in Europe.

"This is so cool," he flipped through the pages. "I worked here," he said, beaming.

"Did you learn how to make that dish?" you asked.

"Yeah, must have the recipe somewhere... Thanks for showing me this," he said after a while, taking the book and handing it back to you.

You shook your head. "That's yours."

"I can't take it," Carmy refused.

"Yes, you can," you insisted. "A friend gave it to me as a house warming present and I never even opened it. You would be doing me a favor," when you saw Carmy was about to argue some more you doubled down. "Do I look like I need more books in here?"

He chuckled and shook his head, placing the book on the table, giving in.

He walked towards you. "Thanks. I mean it."

"You're very welcome," you said earnestly when he leaned in to kiss you.

Carmy nuzzled the side of your face, then down your neck.

"You smell amazing," he said softly. "Coconut."

"That's my conditioner," you smiled and held him closer.

"Lavender, rosemary," he mumbled into your collarbone.

"My body wash."

He already had you gasping for breath as he kept kissing you, standing between your legs, pulling you closer by the bend of the knee. He ran his tattooed hands up and down your thighs, his finger tips still a little cold.

"Can I taste you?"

"Yes. Please."

Carmy knelt before you, something dark and hungry coming to life in your belly as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. He opened up your robe and found you bare. Then, he started peppering kisses up and down the insides of your thighs, kneading your ass in his hands, getting you flustered without even touching your cunt.

"Let me know when it's good, alright? Like last time," Carmy said against the skin of your thigh, you could feel his face warming up.

"Yeah. Though you're already doing better than my last two boyfriends, Carm," you said lightly, caressing his hair.

He chuckled against your skin and the whisper of air between your legs made you shiver.

The tip of his tongue caressed your folds, gently, teasing. You hummed softly, closing your eyes. Then, he flattened his tongue, going up your cunt several times, faster and faster, lapping at your entrance, getting a taste of your arousal and humming in response.

"Shit," you managed.

"Mhmm?" he checked in, not letting go of you.

"Yes," you moaned louder. "It's good."

He kissed his way up your clit, rubbing his nose on it before he started licking at it diligently.

"Suck on it, please. Oh, fuck. Fuck," you arched your back. "Can you- Shit, Carmy- Can you put your fingers inside me?" you pleaded.

He let go for a moment, his mouth and your arousal making a lewd sound as he parted. His middle finger traced around your cunt, gathering wetness before going inside you in one swift thrust.

"Yes. Perfect."

"Another?" you looked into Carmy's eyes, he was flushed and giddy.

You nodded and his index finger joined the middle, a smirk curving his wet lips when he made you moan with a simple curl of his fingers.

"You're a menace," you teased and he laughed.

"Keep looking at me," he said, going back between your legs, eyes on you as he continued sucking your clit.

"Fuck, that feels good," you were breathing hard, fingers tugging on Carmy's curls, your bathrobe completely undone. He moaned hard when your pussy clenched on his fingers, the vibration making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're making me feel so good, Carmy," you praised breathlessly, one of your hands squeezing your breast unconsciously. "I'm close." He arched an eyebrow, questioning. "A little faster. Fuck me with your fingers."

He started pumping his fingers in and out of you, fast, while his lips sucked on your clit frantically, wet noises turning you on even more.

"Just like that, just like that," you moaned. "Keep going, please, please, please..."

You kept looking at him, seeing his eyes shut in pleasure when you fluttered around his knuckles. Your orgasm hit you hard and had you screaming and thrusting against his face before you could stop - his strong arms kept you in place.

"Oh, my God," you keened as he kept going, prolonging your orgasm until it was almost too much to bear, senseless praise flowing freely from your lips. "You're so fucking good, Carm. Make me feel so good."

Everything was warm, white and fuzzy.

Carmy stopped his movements abruptly. You felt him groan needily against your cunt, turning his face to bite on the flesh of your thigh. Looking down, you realized he was palming his cock over his slacks. He had come to the sound and the taste of you.

You tugged on his hair to get him up on his feet and kiss him. His lips were red and swollen, and his tongue tasted like you. When you parted, you saw a satisfied and sedated look on his face.

"Never had a guy do that."

"Eat you out?" he asked, disoriented. His hair was a fucking mess.

You ran your hands through his curls lovingly. "No. Make me cum that hard. Enjoy eating me out that much."

"It was hard not to," Carmy replied. "The fucking sounds you make..."

You hid your face in his shoulder, cheeks burning red.

"I'll try to be quiet next time."

"Please don't," he rasped, tilting your head to kiss you hard.

~

[Part 2]

[nordsea-horizons]

working on new things..☁️☁️

[abuglikecreature]

tw: bugs ! ><

Eeeek!!! self indulgent kinger board i love himmmm

[aangel222]

love fashion week, hate milan

༻✿༺ ༻✿༺ ༻✿༺ ༻✿༺ ༻✿༺ ༻✿༺

[bittersweetresilience]

there are twenty seven songs in my félix playlist which means a few more and i can do a monthly writing game. why am i saying this when i have several important wips i am meant to be doing? well, you see

[todayimfour]

Hey; your papyrus mood board…. That’s not entirely- accurate

He is also really intelligent and impressive engineer. He may act childish at times but he does plan out his actions incredibly well to have the right outcome.

The bedtime stories are not a weakness but an attempt to keep nightmares away, the car bed- well name any man in their 20s who wouldn’t want that; and just likes collecting figurines. He has a childlike mind, but is not a kid or childish

Hey friend, thank you for your input! I agree that he is very much a grown man and not at all live I've depicted him canonically. I should have been more clear with my post :3

My mood boards are almost always regression themed, meaning that they are sort of a 'what if?' sorta deal. There are countless resources going in-depth into age regression and the different variants and types but the main point is: regressing to a younger mindset as a coping skill.

My mood boards are what if 'character' regressed?? What toys would they like? Would they enjoy pacifiers or teethers? What items would help them feel small and safe and comfortable?

In a way, it's kinda like creating an AU, I'm never meaning to create discourse with my boards or offend anyone who likes non regression content better. I'm just having fun with the silly little guys that take residency in my mind. If that's not for you, feel free to block me <3

[horanghoe]

I thought you were somebody else 💕

but that's not on me 😌

[rafesslxt]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 🎃🍂✨

my first kinktober ever! yay! here‘s my list of the story‘s I‘ll post. Come check the list every day for a new story 🎞️

will include: oneshots, drabbles, thoughts, headcanons and moodboards

characters: slytherin boys, anakin skywalker, sam monroe, scott barringer, Stephen Glass, rafe cameron

nsfw | multiple fandoms | masterlist

───⋆⋅🦇⋅⋆───

⊹₊ ⋆ october 1st ꜜ

sexting / phone sex - Slytherin Boys Headcanon

⊹₊ ⋆ october 2nd ꜜ

lingerie / leather & latex - Sam Monroe

⊹₊ ⋆ october 3d ꜜ

nipple play

⊹₊ ⋆ october 4th ꜜ

threesome / group sex - Slytherin Boys

⊹₊ ⋆ october 5th ꜜ

sex pollen - Anakin Skywalker

⊹₊ ⋆ october 6nd ꜜ

face sitting & fucking / 69 - Mattheo Riddle

⊹₊ ⋆ october 7th ꜜ

praise kink - Sam Monroe

⊹₊ ⋆ october 8th ꜜ

cockwarming - Lorenzo Berkshire

⊹₊ ⋆ october 9th ꜜ

breeding / spanking -

⊹₊ ⋆ october 10th ꜜ

handcuffs / tied up -

⊹₊ ⋆ october 11th ꜜ

begging / voice kink

⊹₊ ⋆ october 12h ꜜ

car sex / public sex - Rafe Cameron

⊹₊ ⋆ october 13th ꜜ

dry humping - Anakin Skywalker

⊹₊ ⋆ october 14th ꜜ

erotic photos / sextape - Mattheo Riddle

⊹₊ ⋆ october 15th ꜜ

daddy kink -

⊹₊ ⋆ october 16th ꜜ

outdoor sex / getting caught - Scott Barringer

⊹₊ ⋆ october 17th ꜜ

masturbation / sex toys - Mattheo Riddle

⊹₊ ⋆ october 18th ꜜ

drunk sex / mirror sex - Rafe Cameron

⊹₊ ⋆ october 19th ꜜ

overstimulation / orgasm denial - Sam Monroe

⊹₊ ⋆ october 20th ꜜ

morning sex - Theodore Nott

⊹₊ ⋆ october 21th ꜜ

table sex / teacher - Mattheo Riddle

⊹₊ ⋆ october 22th ꜜ

Love bites/marks - Theodore Nott

⊹₊ ⋆ october 23th ꜜ

Food play -

⊹₊ ⋆ october 24th ꜜ

sub and dom switching - Mattheo Riddle

⊹₊ ⋆ october 25th ꜜ

cheating / affair - Rafe Cameron

⊹₊ ⋆ october 26th ꜜ

best friends with benefits - Lorenzo Berkshire

⊹₊ ⋆ october 27th ꜜ

belly bulge

⊹₊ ⋆ october 28th ꜜ

blindfolded -

⊹₊ ⋆ october 29th ꜜ

29. workplace sex - Stephen Glass

⊹₊ ⋆ october 30th ꜜ

30. hair pulling -

⊹₊ ⋆ october 31th ꜜ

31. mask kink / ghostface / costumes

───⋆⋅🦇⋅⋆───

i‘ll tag every post on here so take a look each day ;) i also haven‘t decided on which character i‘ll write about for what kink, will decide spontaneous if theres no name behind it already.

───⋆⋅🦇⋅⋆───

like mentioned at the beginning, this won‘t just be storys but also drabbles and stuff like that bc i won‘t be able to write that much for every day to post a story per day <3 this will be my little come back i guess hehe

xoxo sarah <3

[nativegirltapes]

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚ what happens when sweetheart!reader invites drew over after their recent movie together finally wraps . . .

pairing: sweetheart!reader x drew starkey

warnings/notes: smut but not much until the end. also new reader yay <3 hoping to get her moodboard out tmr 🎀 lmk your thoughts sexies

the tension between you and drew was undeniable, to the both of you and the rest of the world; your friends, his friends, and both your guys' fans. it's not like you guys tried to hide it though, you were both constantly staring at each other whenever in the same room, especially during interviews, or the way you would both subconsciously have your hands all over each other, or maybe the way you'd both find a way to bring each other up when the other wasn't around.

and now that the movie you both starred in was wrapped, you both felt some weight fall from your shoulders. drew didn't feel like much of a pervert since you weren't exactly his costar anymore. and you didn't feel like you had to suppress the way your body reacted every time he got too close to you.

you hated how much you liked him, he made your stomach do literal flips. the feeling was mutual though, drew adored you in a way he hadn't anyone else. "nice place you got." drew said as you showed him around your apartment. "thanks." you stopped when you made it to your bedroom, drew looked around, your bedroom making him realize how much he really didn't know about you. "so, this is where the lucky guys get to come huh?"

"guess so," you plopped on your bed, letting your dress ride up your thighs. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't have intentions of getting somewhere with drew tonight after inviting him over alone. and it would also be a lie if drew wasn't hoping that you had intentions tonight, because he definitely did.

"am i one of those lucky guys?" drew questioned as he sat next to you on your bed. "are you?" you questioned him back, flashing him a little smile. "can i be?"

you shot out of your bed, standing up in front of him. "don't know. can you?" you teased him. drew chuckled, you were playing hard to get and it surprised him. you were the shy type yes, but there was something playful and even a little daring about you tonight and drew loved it. "do you like messing with me?" drew looked up at you as you still stood in front of him. it took a lot for him to not pull you down on his lap and kiss you. a lot actually. "maybe."

"we both know you want me just as bad as i want you right now," drew's hand fiddled with the end of your dress. "and what makes you so sure about that. hm?" you took a seat on his lap, his arm wrapped around your body, they felt even bigger than they looked. "i don't think you would've let me in your bedroom if you didn't." he said. and he was right, he was absolutely right and you didn't like it.

but clearly not enough because before you knew it, you were both tearing your clothes off each other and you were riding him. "fuck, i'm obsessed with you." drew said squeezing your ass as you bounced on his cock. his tight grip making you squeal a little, you knew it would leave marks but that was the last thing you were worried about. "you're so fucking perfect." you watched as drew's chest rose and fell at a certain pace. "cmon, talk to me." he begged.

your whole body felt so good that all you literally could do was let out moans and squeals, "s' good." you whispered, your eyes instinctively shut from the amount of pleasure. "wanna fuck you all the time." you said.

"yeah? you can baby. i'm all yours." drew responded. it was your first time having sex, but holy, the way your pussy felt wrapped around him; he swore he'd never even want to fuck anyone else ever again. "knew you weren't that shy."

you felt your cheeks get red at his comment, "m'gonna come!" you fell into his chest, heavy breaths leaving your lips as you collapsed on top of him. your manicured nails gripped onto his big arms, "me too." drew's breath hitched. you laid on him as you both caught your breath, "soooo, i am one of those lucky guys?"

[luminiamore]

EX WHO? PT. 2

ex husband eren yeager (he's really ur husband tho) x black babymomma reader

warnings: ur pregnant, yay! softttttt fluffly cute shit., smut

a/n; ultimately decided to release this one first, love u guyssss

moodboard

pt. 1 (can be read as a stand alone though)

masterlist

You honestly should’ve seen this coming. Pregnancy wouldn’t be any easier the second time around, you should have known that. You can feel the pain in your back brewing with each moment that passes in the stiff chair you’re sitting on. The doctor still hasn’t called your name yet, and that’s adding to your already sour mood. Your husband sits beside you, his right hand rubbing on your growing baby bump as he tries to comfort you.

“Just a little longer, mama.” The sound of Eren’s cooing soothes your nerves a little. It’s not enough to make you feel better, though.

You wince, tugging on the ends of your braids to distract yourself after feeling a piercing cramp in your lower abdomen. “Ren.. I’m tired and in pain. Can we please leave?”

You figured you should hate your husband for putting you in this predicament. Pregnant. In pain. And craving toothpaste for some reason. But you can’t find it in yourself to feel that way.

Not when he’s been so attentive and patient with you on those days you feel like death. Not when he buys you gifts almost every week for even carrying his child, just like he did the first time. Not when he’s such a loving partner right now, as every part of you wants to scream and go home.

“No, baby, we can’t keep rescheduling.” He presses a soft kiss to your head, his left hand rubbing circular motions on your knuckles. As he looks down, he can’t help but think about how beautiful the contrast his pale skin has against yours.

Everything about you is so alluring to him, from how you carry yourself down to the melanin coating every inch of your body. It’s no wonder you’re pregnant again. He thinks it would’ve happened soon had you two never gone through that break. He reminds himself to focus. This isn’t what you need right now.

“Just lay your head on me and think about how happy you’ll be when you find out if we’re having a boy or a girl. Raqi’s gonna love her new sibling.”

The baby. This is all for the baby, you reassure yourself. He’s right. Eren can feel the tenseness leave your body, slowly but surely. A smile graces his face when he feels the weight of your head on his shoulder. Though he can’t read your mind, he knows you’re thinking about the baby, listening to his exact words.

That’s another thing he noticed about you. How pliant you’ve been lately. He’s not concerned, really. It’s not as if you constantly banter or argue with him for the fun of it. But recently, it’s as if you trust him to guide you completely without complaint. You don’t question him when he tells you anything. You don’t even protest with a better idea of your own.

It could be your hormones, he considered that to be a factor. It could also be because he kept his promise of being there for you and cutting back on work, so your trust in him increased tenfold. He wonders if he should address it. Talk to you and see if you’re even aware you’ve become more like that.

His forest eyes glance down to peek at your face. While your eyes may be closed, he can still tell you’re not sleeping. You’re pretty close; the cute pout forming on your two-toned lips as you breathe gives it away. You’re not wearing any makeup, just your natural self. Your lash extensions still sit gorgeous on you, but you last went for a refill about 3 weeks ago. He makes a mental note to book an appointment once you both get home.

Your beauty is unmatched. A sight for sore eyes is what you are.

Eren decides you didn’t need to know anything.

“𝜗𝜚, Yeager?” The doctor was ready for you both, shaking him out of his thoughts. He hates to move you from your position. You look so peaceful. So, why not carry you? He eyes the woman who called your name before he responds for you, “Right here.”

You’re shaken awake when you feel a large arm snake around your knees and another on your mid back. You almost have a panic attack when you feel yourself being lifted up abruptly before you start moving. Instinctively, your arms wrap around your husband’s neck before snuggling into him deeper. God, you’re so cute.

The walk to the doctor’s room was short, and Eren made quick work of laying your body down on the examination table once you had made it inside. You’re awake now. Eren watches you settle into the examination table, your tired eyes fluttering open as you adjust to the cool surface beneath you. You groan softly as you adjust, the cool paper crinkling beneath you.

The sterile scent of the doctor’s room is familiar yet unwelcome as it blends with the lingering discomfort in your body. You really didn’t wanna be here. Despite your exhaustion, you muster a faint smile at your husband.

“You okay, mama?” Eren whispers, crouching beside you, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. He wants to ensure you’re as relaxed as possible, knowing the upcoming scan would stir a mix of emotions for both of you. “Mmhm,” you hum, still too groggy to give much more than a nod. Though your body aches, the idea of seeing your baby gives you a soft nudge of excitement. Fuck, you’re really pregnant. Again. Somehow, the idea is still so surreal to you.

The doctor returns with a warm smile, already prepping the ultrasound machine. “Alright, let’s take a look and see how your little one is doing.”

Eren’s grip tightens slightly on your hand, a silent reassurance as the cold gel touches your belly, sending a shiver through your body. When the doctor presses the scan on you, the black-and-white image immediately shows up on the screen before you. It’s not your first ultrasound, but every time you see your baby, you can’t help but gasp.

You watch as your husband’s eyes are locked onto the screen. His face softens as he watches the baby’s small movements, his mind already racing with the list of gifts he’s gonna spoil your child with. He squeezes your hand again, this time more firmly as if trying to ground himself in the reality of the moment. “There’s our baby,” he whispers, his voice filled with wonder.

The doctor’s voice breaks through the trance you and Eren are in. “Everything looks great so far. Baby’s healthy, growing well.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. It’s a familiar feeling, this mix of overwhelming joy and nervousness that pregnancy brings. Every scan and every check-up feels like a small victory. You think about your daughter, Raqi, and how she will react when she finds out if she’ll have a little brother or sister. The thought makes you smile a bit wider.

“Are you ready to find out the gender?” the doctor asks, glancing between you and Eren.

Your heart skips a beat. You turn your head to look at your husband, who’s already looking at you with that boyish grin you fell in love with. You nod, “We’re ready.”

Laying down on your king-sized mattress, you hear Love Island playing on your TV at a low volume. The room feels cozy, warm, and peaceful—a stark contrast to the discomfort you’d dealt with earlier at the doctor’s office.

Your thoughts are absent, and you’re attempting to distract yourself enough to avoid thinking about the pain you’re experiencing. Eren sits at the foot of the bed, gently massaging your soft feet and softly kissing your painted white toes.

He’s not paying attention to anything but you and the little girl growing inside you. “Should I start spoiling her now?”

You giggle, the sound making his heart swell and his dick jump in his sweats, “Ren, she won’t be due for another 5 months at the very least.”

His movements start to slow as he answers, “Does it matter?”

You don’t notice how Eren is looking at you, eyes hooded and intensely staring at your lower body. He has to remind himself to be gentle with you and take things slow. But how can he? You’re not even doing anything remotely sexual, just existing. And yet, he can’t help but want to defile you in every way possible.

“Oh please, you spoil her already by talking to her every night like she’s listening,” you tease, your eyes half-closed as you sink deeper into the plush mattress. Oblivious to the unwavering gaze your man is sending your way.

Eren hums, not stopping his foot massage. “I told you, mama. She’s always listening, you’ll see. She’ll come out knowing everything I’ve told her.”

His words make you chuckle, but you know he means it deep down. The care and devotion Eren show to your unborn daughter remind you just how lucky you are to have him by your side. You sigh pleasantly when his fingers rub a sore spot on your soles.

“You know,” Eren begins, his voice low and thoughtful, “I was thinking about what I said earlier about Raqi and how she’s gonna react to the baby. I think she’s gonna go crazy.” He pauses, his hand now moving to rub slow circles on your stomach. “She’s been asking for a sibling for months now.”

Your daughter hasn’t noticed a change in your belly yet. It’s not easy to blame her for her hyperactive mind at her age. You think she has a superstition or a really good gut feeling because she sometimes hugs your belly. Not you. Just your belly. A small smile tugs at your lips as you think about it, “Yeah, I think so too. You think we should tell her when she gets back from her sleepover tomorrow?”

You think Eren is thinking about a response when he stops speaking for a moment. That is until you let out a yelp when you feel him place a kiss on your thigh, inching close to where your panties are. “Let’s make it a surprise?” A shiver runs down your spine as you feel his lips brush against your skin, the sensation so thrilling.

“Baby...” Your body heats up as you whine and react to his touch. At that point, Eren knows he doesn’t have to do much more to make you pant underneath him. He feels that you are deserving of this. Your pretty pussy deserves to be taken care of. You deserve to lie down and let your body fill with pleasure that only he can give you. I mean, you’re carrying his baby. A few mind-numbing orgasms are the least he could give you.

He isn’t one to beat around the bush, “I wanna make love to you, mama. Will you let me?”

“Ren... I can’t-” You try to explain that you can’t really move that much. But as he continues to press gentle kisses closer to your panties, the thought starts to leave your mind. He hasn’t fucked you in about two weeks, out of consideration for you. The sexual frustration finally catches up to you.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just breathe and let Daddy take care of you, yeah?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against the fabric of your panties. The warmth spreads through you, making it hard to think straight. Nevertheless, you nod. Your breathing becomes slightly heavier when his fingers finally hook into your panties and pull them down your brown legs.

Eren keeps his promise. He doesn’t let you move a muscle, his tatted arm taking your ankles and pulling them over his shoulders. He didn’t have a shirt on, causing you to feel his bare skin against yours, and it’s nothing short of electric. “Words, mama.”

Eren is hungry, desperate for a taste of you, when his green eyes unwaveringly lock onto your leaking hole. Fuck, you’re dripping. His lips are drooling with your lower ones. He feels his mouth salivating, and honestly.. he thinks he’s falling in love with you again. You, the mother of his child. You, his perfect wife. Is he dreaming?

When he hears you let out a pathetic whimper at the sensation of the cool air on your sensitive clit, he answers his own question. This is real.

You’re getting restless, your body aching for your husband to just do something. Anything. “Yes... Yes, Daddy. Please.”

His wet mouth hurriedly attaches to your twitching clit. Eren hums approvingly against your sensitive folds, his hot breath fanning across your clit. He traces the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips, flicking it rapidly with the tip of his tongue.

You’re mewling, your eyes rolling back each time he dips his long tongue teasingly inside of you. You’re overflowing into his mouth, and Eren doesn’t hesitate to devour everything you’re giving him with pleasure.

What lies between your legs should be criminal. It’s making a mess of him. His hair already inching to fall out of his lazy bun, and his pink lips are glistening with your arousal, so much so that he can hear little drops falling onto your shared bed.

“Taste so sweet, baby.” His words are muffled. Eren never once removes his face from your cunt, though you can still make out his words. “Look so pretty, too. My wife. My perfect wife.”

You’re babbling, mindless nodding at his words. “Fuck- Ren!” You can’t help but cry out when Eren slowly eases two thick fingers inside your messy mound, quickly curling them to reach his favorite spot. His pace is deliberate and careful as he penetrates you with his digits.

Regardless, the intense pressure is still there. You couldn’t arch your back at it even if you tried. You’re stuck. Forced to take everything being given to you by your lover.

His eyes snap up to you, and what a sight it was. Your bonnet was halfway slipping off your head, your eyebrows scrunched so cutely, and your mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ shape out of pleasure.

He watches a line of drool slowly cascading down your glossed lips. One of your tits was hanging out, bouncing slightly with every pump of his fingers. Shit, he could cum at just the sight of you.

“I love you so much, mama. I’m so grateful for you. For our little family.” The swirling on your clit is still ongoing, and you’re starting to wonder if the man below you is even breathing properly as he speaks. You can’t dwell on it for long before you begin to feel a familiar fire pooling in your lower abdomen. You’re so sensitive.

You can tell your husband feels it, too. “Swear I’m the happiest when I’m with you.” His fingers don’t speed up; rather, he fucks them inside your warm walls with more purpose. More conviction.

“I- I love you, t-too. I - Ah! M’gonna cum Rennie!”

The obscene slurping of your dripping cunt only increases at his following words, “Yeah? Give it to me, baby. Give Rennie everything.”

Who are you to deny your husband? Your brain short circuits when you finally release all over Eren’s mouth, your mouth opening even wider to release a silent moan. You would’ve been bucking uncontrollably if a large palm hadn’t been gripping your soft hips. He groans when the essence of you impales his taste buds.

Eren pulls his fingers out of you slowly. That seems to be the theme tonight, not that you’re complaining. You let out a weak cry as he continues to softly suckle on your clit because the taste of you is simply addicting. He can never get enough.

Your eyes are pleading when you call out to him. “Ren- Baby.. I need you.”

His eyes roll back into his head when those words leave your panting mouth. He pulls away from you with a resounding pop! Watching your legs plop down on the mattress just to slowly crawl up to the top of the bed next to you.

“You need me, mama?” He carefully turns you on your side, facing him as you both cuddle into each other. You didn’t even notice when he took his sweats off, but that’s honestly the least of your concerns when you feel his fat tip leaking with pre-cum press against your folds.

You’re nodding so fast you think it might give you whiplash. “Put it in, plea- Oh!.”

Eren is pushing his leaking cock inside of you before you can finish your sentence, “Anything for you, baby.”

And he means that, beyond just fucking you. Your husband would do anything for you.

You’re soaking, so there isn’t much resistance for Eren. You both let out a desperate groan when you feel his tip pressing right where your cervix is, deliciously grazing your sweet spot in the process. He pulls his back delicately before slapping against you harshly, creating a wet, squelching sound.

Your cries are heaven to his ears. Your lips look so plump and perfect he wants to bruise them. So, he does. Eren grants you a deep kiss that knocks the breath out of your lungs as you struggle to return his vigor.

How your hands scramble to reach for his to ground yourself is so adorable to him. He couldn’t imagine himself being in love with anyone other than you. Couldn’t imagine himself being with anyone but you. He continues his onslaught on your poor pussy, whispering sweet praises of,

“You’re so perfect, mama.”

“I’m so in love with you, baby.”

“Fuck, you and this pretty pussy were made for me.”

Eren’s gaze never once left your face as he snakes his hand to softly rub your clit. Watching every scrunch, every contort, into pleasure all because of him. The panting of your breath as you simply lie down and let him have his way with you... Fuck. Eren knows that he won’t last long inside your tight warmth.

You’ll never get used to the feeling of being so.. stuffed.. so full... His slow strokes never once falter inside of you. The sounds you both were making were nothing short of lewd; with each stab to your womb, he was bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm of the night.

“Augh! Daddy- I love you, I love you so much-”

“My pretty girl, I love you so much more. Cum for me, mama. You deserve it.”

You’re trembling, your body violently shaking as it listens to your husband outside of your own will. You’re creaming all over him, a sticky white paste forming at the base of his cock the more he thrusts into you. You’re crying, he notices. Light tears slip down your puffy cheeks, and he can’t tell if it’s due to the pleasure or all the emotions you’re feeling right now.

Your pussy has him in a tight grip, refusing to let go of him. Eren isn’t far behind you, your release naturally triggering his own. His heavy breathing accompanies his soft moan as he dumps his thick seed past your puffy lower lips.

Both of you stay there, sweating and soaking up the afterglow. After a moment, Eren kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips brushing softly against your damp skin. His arms wrap protectively around you, pulling you even closer if that were even possible. You can do nothing but nuzzle into his hot chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You okay, mama?” His voice is low and soothing, breaking the comfortable silence as he strokes your back gently.

Your response is a hum, too blessed to form words, but the way you melt into him reveals everything. He chuckles softly, placing another kiss on your head. Eventually, he makes a slight shift, but his hand remains on your waist. “You’re everything to me, you know that?”

You lift your head to look at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “And you’re everything to me, too, Rennie,” you whisper back, smiling softly.

For a minute, you just gaze at each other, and there is no need for further words. Everything he needed to say had already been told in the way he touched you, held you, and cherished you tonight. You really couldn’t ask for anything more.

[mentally-unstable-hottie13]

Hii! Soo i saw a moodboard and fell in love with the vive

you think you could do a one shot about being Henrys innocent girlfriend

Thats the mood board, but instead of Patrick could u do a Henry one plss🙏🙏

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Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry it took so long I hope I did it justice. I also re did the mood board to make it a cover. Hope you like it .

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Henry x innocent! Reader!

Content warnings: mention of sex, suggestive material, underage smoking, theft, language. Misogynistic language.(Not from Henry)

(NO ACTUAL SEXUAL ACTS HAPPEN IN THIS STORY. ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18 IN THEIR SENIOR YEAR)

A/N: I'm kinda back! Yay! | didn't add smut to this because I didn't know if any of y'all would be willing to read that so l thought it would be best to ask here. Leave a comment if yes! All my story's will continue plus I have a new man I plan on writing for! Hope you like it!

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You lived in Derry for a few years when you were younger but your father had gotten a promotion at his job that required your family to move to a whole new state. Now after 10 years, here you are. You had to move back because of your grandmothers worsening condition. You loved Granny. She was your best friend.

After moving back you have been spending all of your time at granny’s house. She’d teach you to sew, cook, she’d ask you to read to her as she lay in her recliner chair. It’s almost like you lived at her house and not with your parents. Don’t get me wrong you love your parents, they just understood how much granny meant.

The past few weeks at Derry high have been almost Hellish. People push you in the halls, this girl Greta and her friends are ruthless in their taunts and now there was him.

Henry Bowers. He apparently had been suspended the first 2 weeks you were in town. Now he was at school everyday, in almost every class. He always had his eyes on you. You wont lie, he scared you. In comparison to him you were much smaller, and not just in stature. Henry’s personality, energy and voice was big in comparison to your shy, calm, innocent one. He was the definition of fear. He looked at you like a wolf looked at a lamb. And that was the scariest part. All Henry ever did was look.

Until one day.

It stopped looking and did something.

You remember the day clearly, the day that set everything in motion. It was a warm day with wet air. It had rained the night prior and was overcast all day. You had an English quiz today. You never minded English class but on days with quizes you felt unshakable anxiety. You always read the material but what if?

Yep, you were one of those. You always knew the material, but felt like you would choke on a test. (You never have).

Just for the test the teacher decided to finally switch up seats. Yippie. Every person would now have a different table partner. You could almost see the murder in Henry’s eyes when she pointed to a desk and announced that you and Henry would be tablemates.

Double yippie.

The paper was placed before you and Henry and the hour timer started. Simple questions if you read the book. But like always, there was a hint of fear embeded in your skin. About 40 minutes in your absolutely anchient English teacher fell asleep. Seriously he was so old you don’t know if he was safe to dive himself home anymore.

Henry kicked your foot. Oh no.

You tried not to acknowledge his attempts at your attention. That didn’t last long. He finally annoyed you enough and got you to look at him. He slid over a small paper note.

“Help me out.”

Was all the almost illegible note said. The hadwriting was so bad it was almost endearing.

“With what?” You gently wrote back.

After a long minute of Henry writing in the note he slid it back.

He asked for only half the answers? Why not all of them? He also didn’t ask for any of the short response questions . Just the multiple choice ones.

You sighed and flipped the note over before writing out the answers.

“AACDBCCDA.”

You passed it back and silently slid it to Henry under the table. You really didn’t need to get in trouble because someone saw you helping this guy out. What if the teacher called your parents? What if Granny got mad? God that would be the end of the world for you. You hated upsetting your family. You always tried to do what you were told.

Henry takes the paper and unfolds it before quickly copying the answers and then shoving the note in his pocket, from there he writes a few words for the short response before drawing shit on his paper.

You finish up the test and get up to turn it in. Just as you start raising out of your chair Henry put his hand on your thigh. Startled by the contact you jump a little and look down at him. With a bored expression he hands you his paper. You sigh again before walking up to the teachers desk and walk back to your desk to gather your things. As you walk the bell for lunch rings and everyone leaves. Because of that little interaction with Henry you were the last one to turn in your paper and now you were the last one left in class. You didn’t mind. You sat alone for lunch. You could read your books when you were alone. Even the teacher had left.

You grab your bag and begin gathering your things to leave. By the time you are done the hallways appear empty. Just as you exit the room a sharp hand grabs your wrist. Startling you backwards, you turn to face your “attacker” only to come face to face…. With him.

Henry. You were all alone. With him.

You can’t deny that he was attractive. His bright blue eyes, muscles and long hair made you blush.

You’d never really looked at boys like this, not for any particular reason. They just never interested you. until today that is.

Henry leaned against the lockers with a vexed expression lain across his features. Why was he annoyed?

From his perspective the blush on your checks was ever-noticeable. You avoided his gaze but kept your eyes on him. Strange. He though.

“I need your answers for Mr. Clark’s math class. I know you have him the hour before me.” Henry stares

“W-what?” You ask absolutely bewildered that he’s demanding answers after you already helped him cheat. You already felt icky about helping him in the first place.

“You heard me. I need you to do the study guide and give me the answers. He allowed us a cheat sheet for the test based on the study guide but I don’t feel like doing the work. So. You are gonna help me. Got it?” It’s not a question, he’s telling you that you’ll help him. What a jerk.

After a moment of you not responding he snatches your phone from you. “Hey!” You lunge after your phone. He holds it above your head.

“Open it and go to your contacts. Now.” He hands you back the phone. He was scary, you knew the things he did to other kids who didn’t listen to him. Might as well listen.

You open your phone and open up contacts before handing it back to him. He types for a second before handing it back.

“Text me your address so I can come by after school. If you ghost me I’ll kick your ass into a pulp. Don’t test me.” And with that, Henry was gone.

What was this kids deal?

You messaged Henry the address to your Granny’s house after school. As you enter her house you call out for her.

“Gran?”

“I’m in here love!” She responds from the living room.

You walk to Granny and kneel beside her in her rocker.

“Hi love, what’s got you lookin all down today?” Gran wonders.

“A boy is coming over today to study, I wanted you to know.”

“Oh a boy you say? Why don’t you two work in your room? I won’t be a bother to you in there.”

“Are you sure Gran?”

“Positive.”

With a heavy sigh you go to your room. You decided clean up a little before Henry comes over. You liked your room here. Most of your material belongings were at home with your parents but Grans house had all your clothes and stuffed animals and blankets. The dusty blue walls made the room feel cozy. Your bed spread was a light pastel pink with little blue flowers all over it. Your lamp was in the shape of an old teapot and your stuffed animals that you didn’t regularly sleep with were placed in a “hammock” in a corner. Potted plants scattered your room. These little details made you feel so at home it was hard to describe.

A knock came from the front door snapping you out of your comfortable daze. You exit your room and walk to the front door. Before you even speak Henry pushes past you into the house. You sigh and shut the front door before showing him to your room and shutting the door behind you.

God this guy is a jerk…

He sits himself on your bedspread and you cringe at the thought of his dirt covered jeans on your bed. You see that he has nothing on him. You knew this wasn’t gonna be a regular study session but nothing? Not a pencil? Not even his own book?

Whatever.

You get yourself situated on the floor in front of your small table and get out your book and paper. You finished most of the study guide in your last few classes today. You just had a few more things to put down. When you were done you looked up to see Henry had lain fully back onto your bed. In his dirty farm clothes.

Don’t panic.

Sheets can be washed.

The mattress however bust be set aflame.

You tossed the pencil and cheat sheet up onto his lap before turning on the tv from where you sat. He stirred at the feeling of something touching him he steadied himself on his elbows to look at you, then the paper. He scoffed before retrieving a notecard from his pocket. He slid of the bed and sat next to you on the floor, leaning over the table as he wrote. You rolled your eyes and found a good show to watch.

Once he was done writing he looked up.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked gesturing to your tv.

“It’s my favorite show.” You shrug.

“This?” He asks confused, “no way this boring shit is your favorite.”

“Well it is, I usually watch it with Gran”

“Do you only really watch tv with her?” He asks weirdly.

“Pretty much.”

“Do you do everything with your gramma’?”

You just nod.

“That explains fucking everything!” He shouts and laughs loudly.

You try to throw your hands over his mouth. “SHHHH!! Not so loud! she doesn't like swearing!”

He laughs louder through your hands. Once he calms a little he grabs your wrists and removes your hands from his face.

“Fuck, that makes so much sense now.”

You look at him oddly. “What makes sense?”

“You” he gestures, “the old lady clothes, the knitting in class, the books, the no swearing, the way you talk. You are a clone of your grandma!” He laughs again.

Your cheeks turn pink with embarrassment.

No I'm not… I’m me, my grandma and I just spend a lot of time together that’s all….

“Just shut up Henry!” You snap.

….

“What did you just say to me, freak?” He levels you with a glare. You couldn’t find it in you to care.

“I said shut up! I’m helping you for tomorrow when I don’t have to! You have no idea what you are talking about so just shut up!”

He leans in closer to you with that angry look on his face.

You were in so much trouble. Would he hit you? Beat you? Yell at you? You’d heard stories of what he’d done to other kids that tried to stand up to him.

You close your eyes in fear of what’s to come. You’d never even raised your voice like that before. Of course the first time ever had to be at Henry Bowers. You wait for him to hit you, but instead you feel 2 hands grab at the side of your face before Henry smashed his lips to yours.

Your eyes snap open in shock. The kiss is rough and demanding but not awful. After a few seconds of initial shock you melt into it before Henry pulls off.

Your eyes flutter open to see Henry smirking with a flushed face. You assume the red on his cheeks is matching you.

“W-why would you do that?” You cover your face with your hands.

“Because I felt like it.” He deadpanned.

This made no freaking sense. Why would this guy do that?!?

“Yo” he starts again. “Relax. I’ve liked your look for a while, what do ya say you go with me for a while?”

WHAT WAS HE EVEN SAYING?????

“Pardon?….”

“I’m sayin go steady. Hang with me fer a while”

“Are you insane!?” You whisper yell. “You threaten to beat me up, swear in my house, make fun of me then kiss me???”

“And now I’m askin to go steady.” He confirms.

This kid was insane. What was even more insane was the fact that you were pondering it. Maybe it was the fact that he called you a clone of Granny. That implies you were like an old lady, uptight, boring, no fun. You could be fun.

“Why not?”

He looked a little surprised.

“Really?” He asked in a bored and skeptical tone.

“Yeah, why not?”

And from there you and Henry have been together for months.

Being with Henry has taught you things you never knew. He’s influenced you to do things you never would have done. Not that you are complaining.

He and his friends took you to the quarry today. You had never really seen boys your age undressed before… that was quite a strange feeling. You’d never really been undressed in front of boys before. The way Henry looked at you confused you. For about 30 minutes after you caught him staring he refused to get out of the water. Even when everyone else did.

One of Henry’s friends, you’d come to learn was Belch, brought a speaker to listen to music as you sat in the shaded rocks and watched the boys fool around in the water. You’d never listened to music like it before. Screaming, loud, sex and drug filled music. You’d be lying if you said you completely hated it.

Another thing you learned was how these boys speak. Once they all exited the water they began talking about a girl. Greta. The girl who was always mean to you. They called her things like a “slut” and “total bone material”. Not Henry of course. But they all talked and laughed about sex in such an unserious way. You wondered what that was like. To not be intimidated by sex.

You knew what sex was and the basic mechanics of it but absolutely nothing else. You were curious. You appeared to be the only senior in your school who was almost totally clueless. Others definitely were taking notice.

On the car ride back to your house the boys stopped at a corner store for snacks. You knew they stole. You told Henry your only rule was “don’t get me involved” and he never did. Although Henry was teaching you new and foreign things he tried to keep you out of the worst of it. Anything that gets you in trouble.

As he hopped back into the Trans Am that was uncomfortably full now that you tagged along, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and hit the box on his palm twice. He asked Patrick to light it and the smell of the burn filled your nostrils. Belch started the Trans Am and began driving. A little while after lighting the cigarette it was passed around until you were the only one who hadn’t had a puff. Patrick looked at you.

Oh no.

“C’mon babe, give it a try.” He said and practically waved the half gone thing in your face.

“Leave it, hockstetter.” Henry said firmly, turning in his seat to look at you with almost apologetic eyes.

“Oh come on Henry she’s a big girl, let her try.” Patrick laughed.

You look at Henry one more time. In the months you had spent together you’d heard his friends tease him about you. Of course you’d never tell him that. You heard them say you were too clean to be with a Bowers, that you were “so fucking boring it’s amazing Henry hasn’t boned someone else”.

You never wanted Henry to be ashamed of you, you didn’t want Henry to think you were boring.

You look at Patrick defiantly and snatch the cigarette from him before inhaling. Inhaling wasn’t the problem. It’s getting it out that caused some issues. On the exhale it tickled parts of your lungs you never want tickled and you coughed, sputtering. The boys laughed and as you got yourself composed you made eye contact with Henry who was still looking at you. He had a smile on his face, but his eyes said something different.

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After returning you and Henry to Gran’s house the boys sped off. You unlocked the door and went into the living room to sit with Granny for a bit while Henry went to your room. Gran wasn’t particularly fond of the Bowers but she liked that you were happy.

You sat and told Gran that you and Henry and a few friends (not including that you were the only girl) went to the quarry for a swim. She smiled weakly and asked you to help her to her room for a nap. Grab had a very specific sleep routine. Wake up at 4, two naps a day for about an hour and a half each then in bed by 8. She never slept without her mask or her earplugs. She was on the verge of being deaf but she swore any and all sounds while she was sleeping would overstimulate her. So she wore earplugs. Due to the earplugs alarms were rendered ineffective so in about an hour you would be waking her.

After getting Granny all settled you shut her door then went to find Henry in your room across the house.

Henry is sitting on your bed, not unusual but he looks upset (also not unusual but you don’t know why he’s upset).

“You ok baby?” You asked timidly while stepping closer.

“Why would you do that?” He asks angrily but not yelling.

“What?”

“Why the fuck did you take the cig from hockstetter?” He spits.

“I wanted to try it”

“Bullshit, you've never wanted to try anything like that.”

“It’s not bull it’s true!” You try to lie but it’s not getting you anywhere.

“Bull. Shit.” He repeats. “You don’t drink, you don’t smoke, you get mad when we steal, you hate what I do every fucking day. So why the fuck did you do it?”

You stay silent and he huffs. He stands up and moves to leave.

“No!” You block his way.

“Move. ____” he says your name like he’s tired.

“No, I don't want you to go!” You admit.

“Then tell me why you took it from him!”

You look away, embarrassed.

“Because I don’t want you to be ashamed to be around me..”

He looks confused, which is pretty par for the course when it comes to Henry and feelings. “What?”

You try to breathe and explain. “I don’t do the things you do… I don’t do the things other girls that you guys hang out with do.”

“And what the fuck about it?” Henry snaps.

“I just-“

“No.” He cuts you off. “I’m not responsible for your insecurity. Don’t put that on me.”

“I wasn’t-“ you panic at his defensiveness but are cut off again.

“I ask if you wanna hang out with my friends because you are my girlfriend. You. Not that bitch Greta. Or Stacy, or Lana. You. I wanted you to be my girlfriend, if you are getting all insecure and shit that’s on you.”

“It’s not like that! I just don’t know the things everyone else seems to!” You try to explain.

“And!? I fucking chose you! You think I want a girl that knows everything!? A girl that thinks she’s better then me at everything?!

“No!”

“Then what the fuck is the problem?!”

“There is no problem henry. I’m just confused..”

“You’re confused? I’m confused!” He retorts. “I thought everything was fine!”

“It is!”

“Then what’s the problem!” He shouts again.

For once you are happy about Grans earplug habit.

“…I can’t do the things other girls do..”

“What?”

“I heard patrick say you had sex with Beverly and Greta”’

….

Silence. The scariest thing your boyfriend could do. Give you pure. Excruciating silence.

You start thinking of a way out. Try thinking of a way to backtrack. But nothing is coming to mind. Your heart sinks as you begin to think you royally messed up.

“I didn’t.”

…

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“I never had sex with either of them. Greta and I got pretty close to doing it a few times but I never did anything with Beverly.”

Your eyes must be wide with shock and self induced embarrassment horror.

“You don’t believe me?” He asks defensively.

“No no no I do”

“When I said I wanted to be your Boyfriend I meant it.” This sweet, almost domestic side of Henry was rare and always but you in a confused state, mostly because you knew it was only for you. “I don’t wanna fuck anyone else. I want to completely ruin you for anyone else, I wanna teach you things you never knew existed, I want you to go home to your parents one day with music that kills them of shock. I wanna teach you. Not anyone else.”

As crazy as those things may sound coming from someone you understood what he was trying to say. It was Henry’s way of saying if I was gonna learn he’d rather it be him. It was him acknowledging that you weren’t gonna be innocent forever, so why not learn it from him. What sounds even crazier is you think you loved the idea.

Henry took a step closer to you. He put his heavy calloused and bruised hands on your arms and kissed you roughly. Henry didn’t do soft. Never had and never will, and you loved it.

He led you to the bed while maintaining the kiss and once your knees hit the bed they bent and you fell to the bed. Henry continued kissing you, getting tougher as time went on. He began kissing you with his tongue, something he’d only ever done once before and you loved it. His hands slowly but firmly went up your blouse to touch the exposed skin. He brought his knee up between your legs and you gasped at the contact, having never felt it before. After a few seconds Henry broke the kiss and got off you.

Confused. You looked at him. He took off his shoes and grabbed the tv remote before holding you. Your heart swelled at the realization that he was trying to take it slow for you. Even if it left him uncomfortable. And trust me it was. Henry sat with a hard on for the entirety of the movie he put on while holding you.

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Please tell me if there was any mistakes so I can fix them ❤️☺️

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @jiyascepter

Through The Years

Jotun!King!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Æsir!Queen!Reader

Summary: This story takes you and Loki on a journey through the twins life. From their first steps all the way to their first time falling in love.

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, father-son moments

Word Count: 413

a/n: I finally managed to post the epilogue - yay! I'm SO sorry it took me this long... I love this Universe - this series with all my heart. Thank you all for joining the ride! I sincerly hope you enjoyed it. 🤗

❄️ Chapter Six ❄️

Ice Flower AU Masterlist ❄ Loki Masterlist ❄ Masterlist

Epilogue

The landscape of Jotunheim extended to the feet of the high cliff. It was winter and therefore was everything covered in a thick blanket of snow and ice. It was bitterly cold today, but the sky was clear. A rare thing to happen in the harsh winters of Jotunheim.

On top of the cliff was standing Loki; wrapped up in the warmest furs. He gazed down on his home. He loved this place and often went here. A lot of memories were made on this cliff... With his father. With you. With his sons - who were approaching him. Steps could be heard in the crunching snow, as the twins came to stand beside him. "Dad..." Váli said, looking at him with concern. "Is everything alright?" Continued Áki. Loki smiled, nodding. "Oh, for sure." "Why did you want to meet us here then?" Loki teared his gaze away from the landscape and looked at Váli. "Because this place holds so many memories..." He then looked over at Áki. "And I wanted to add a new one."

Both men smiled; stepping closer and following their father's gaze. Loki placed his hands on one shoulder of each son. "Your grandfather took me here often and showed me what was ours. Told me stories about our home. About the cliffs and fields. About the Jotuns - and about the palace. One day, he brought me up here and showed me what was mine..." He squeezed their shoulders. "Today, I'm bringing you up here, to show you what is yours." Both, Váli and Áki swallowed at their dad's words.

Loki turned to face Váli again. "You are king now, son. You are ruling over the realm and leading all its people. And I know you are going to be a great king. Perhaps even a better one than I was. You are kind, wise and strong. Keep that up." With a smile, Loki turned to face Áki. "And you, son, are the leader of our army - and first advisor of the king. You are going to protect whole Jotunheim and stand by your brother's side. I couldn't image a better leader. You have your heart in the right place."

Once again, he gave their shoulders a squeeze and returned his gaze on the beautiful landscape ahead. "Whatever is going to happen in the future... To me, to your mother - or even to your husband and wife. I want you to always remember this place... Home."

Tags: @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @fictive-sl0th @lokisgoodgirl @smolvenger @hisredheadedgoddess28 @icytrickster17 @chennqingg @glitchquake @princess-ofthe-pages @crimson25 @elegantcheesecakecrown @buttercupcookies-blog @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @herdetectivetheorist @loz-3 @brokenpoetliz @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @jennyggggrrr @lady-rose-moon @lovingchoices14 @salvinaa @irishhappiness @sheris532 @princessdragon23 @xxannyxx @kimanne723 @mandywholock1980 @the-holy-trinity-l @loki-laufeyson223 @vbecker10

[anika-ann]

Back and Forth - Epilogue pt.1

Epilogue 1/2 - Always Forward

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 8700

Chapter summary:  In which you're settling into a new normal... and something beautiful might be blossoming between you and Steve, even as your past experience is holding you back.

Series masterlist

Warnings: mention of dampened senses and vomitting, mentions of unhealthy relationship with pain, mention of PTSD and flashbacks, mentions of bruises and bleeding (brief and no-graphic), Steve being a menace, allusions to messed-up self-image and self-worth, language✨ Please, let me know any time if you think I missed any!

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

A/N2: hello it's me, bringing this story back from the void. If you follow on AO3, you have seen this posted... in October. My dummy self forgot to post it here. Enjoy and let know if you did? 😇

You were not counting your days of recovery. You weren’t.

You fully understood healing was a process, even if sped up by Steve’s accelerated healing ability still gracing your body and stitching up your cells in the speed of considerably delayed light.

The determination to not count days was most certainly not at all connected to the fact that every day of your enhanced healing meant keeping a stolen miracle from its rightful owner and as a consequence, keeping a hero with capital H from ordinary people, keeping him from saving lives due to his own slowed recovery. However, the delay was not on you only – it had been a mutual decision to which you had come to together.

Healing simply took time; you got that. On a rational level, you understood it all perfectly.

Thus, you weren’t counting days.

You were counting hours instead. And there were too many to your liking.

You wished you had felt better when the switch finally happened, after your tissue had completely healed and you had started physical therapy, but it was not that simple. You did feel better in a way, of course, but you exchanged one little hell for another.

As much as you had tried to prepare for the moment, even talking to Steve about how much of a shock it had been for him to wake up after the first switch, no amount of readiness made you truly ready and it wasn’t just the fear of the Kree artifact possibly having another surprise in stock for you.

It wasn’t just the healing factor either; it was the senses.

You hadn’t had a single doubt you’d feel relieved and grateful later on – and you did now – but suddenly losing the beyond-perfect vision and hearing might have as well render you completely blind and deaf. Even after days, you caught yourself squinting, listening to music that appeared to always play too low even when on max, eating food with enough spice to send Clint – Clint, of all people – running away with tears, because to you it tasted completely bland otherwise. You physically had to stop yourself from spraying yourself with perfume once more because you didn’t seem to smell it at all.

Steve was no better. He was good at rolling with the punches and he did have an experience with suddenly gaining enhanced senses already; but he did admit, with reluctance, that he had thrown up directly after the switch, the assault on his senses too overwhelming; mumbling something about a hangover and Asgardian liquor. Not that you heard him at the time; because you had practically turned deaf.

Yay Kree! said no one, ever.

There were positives too, however; even with dampened senses, the moment you were able to project for the first time again, you were taken by relief so intense you felt tears sting in your eyes, your chest so tight and yet so light you could fly. You were far from a perfect person, from a perfect Inhuman; but god, had you never been happier to be yourself than at that moment.

Steve reached the peak of his recovery not two days after, his range of motion and strength returning as if he had never been injured at all.

And by some karmic blessing, the switch did have one miraculous effect defying one of the most fundamental law of physics; the conservation of energy.

The pain ceased to exist.

 Steve swore to you while looking – squinting still, really, the lights too bright for his enhanced sight – directly into your eyes that there was not a single trace of his spectral wound in his chest. It didn’t hurt. And the pain didn’t transfer to you either. It was just… gone.

You didn’t investigate why, even as you could feel the wheels in Steve’s head turning, his neurons once again firing like mad as he considered using the Leviathan for switches more often, wanting to try if together, you could rid you of the pain completely whenever your Spectre suffered an injury. You didn’t want to know if that was an option; because it was not an option for you, the risks you had listed earlier remaining.

Nevertheless, you were grateful that this one and only time you’d used the artifact, Steve was free of the consequences of your abilities.

And you were beyond grateful that exchanging powers back did not catapult you back into times where you and Steve fought all too often.

In fact, it was the exact opposite.

You did begin to build the foundation Steve had talked about. An invite for a run, for a workout, for a lunch. Sitting next to each other when watching a movie with other Avengers or during the AI movie nights. Lingering when running into each other, exchanging at least a few sincere words or mere small talk. A literal walk in a park, a little hike upstate, a coffee with no expectations beyond a good, safe time with someone whose company you enjoyed very much.

When you granted yourself the permission to let go, you gravitated towards each other, every time, the alluring warmth of his, figurative and literal, always pulling you in, tingles in your belly reaching into your chest and untying the knots of anxiety and doubt and setting you free of their barbaric cage.

You did take it slow. There were no labels, no pressure – at least not from Steve’s side – no deadlines. No official dates, no purely romantic displays of affection.

You did work on building that trust and you were fully aware it was mostly for your own benefit. Even as Steve was clearly putting a lot of effort into making it seem like he didn’t mind, you added the guilt over making him wait and complicating things to the nice pile you had managed to gather all by yourself; but that was not on Steve. Steve was… incredible.

With all this, the feeling you had always felt humming in your chest and which you had been so desperate to fight just to remain a little safer, grew louder. You had always trusted Steve; the trust was now turning steel-solid with every precious minute in his presence.

It was you whom you still didn’t quite trust.

But when you allowed yourself to let go just a tiny bit, to feel Steve’s sincerity in just about anything, when you consciously pushed at least some of your fears to the backburner, you were falling for Steve fast. And hard.

Steve Rogers was a man as close to perfection as you thought it possible. There were almost too many things to admire and appreciate about him. His bravery, sincerity an all-in approach when it came to feeling, were but a few of them.

One of the ways which conveyed his kindness and dare to say affection, was his touch.

There were few fundamental facts about touching and being touched by Steve.

The first one was that before your unfortunate Hydra incident, you two had never touched outside of strictly work-related reasons; and even those, at least to your knowledge, had been very limited. One, Steve fixed some of your moves or stance in training, or assisted you if it was completely necessary. Two, Steve carried you when you inevitably passed out during a mission; being high-up in his arms, pressed to his front as he had easily carried you bridal style, was a memory which you recalled with surprising sharpness and yet maddening haziness that prevented you from fully benefiting from those moments.

The second fact was that even if the touch was limited to work-related occasions, there was a hierarchy in it: you had never initiated the physical contact. You wouldn’t for a while, in the course of work or outside of it.

Third, when it did come to physical contact outside of work, there was something incredibly fragile and beautiful about Steve and touch.

It wasn’t like you had never had another person touch you outside of work before, obviously. That wasn’t it. You had done plenty of gymnastics training, ballet lessons, work-out, martial arts, sparring – all these included a lot of correction by your trainers. You had once had friends too, you had hugged; and god knew Daisy could give, at least by your estimate, among the warmest hugs on Earth and in Space.

When it came to a different kind of touch, when it came to sex, you sure had your fair share of experience of being touched. In fact, there had been a period of your life that included a very high number of sexual encounters, which naturally tended to involve a lot of touching; so much that you’d confidently say the rule at the time was quantity over quality. The habit was objectification over affection. The reality was heated desire to fuck and be fucked over intimacy.

And that was exactly where the overwhelming contrast lied: there was something empoweringly and disarmingly intimate about Steve’s touch, even outside of romance.

It had started back at the Hydra cell, with him tenderly cradling your head, fingertips lingering on your thigh after he had finished taking care of your wound; the very study in intimate, warm touch, that lingered in your mind fondly despite the dreadful circumstance.

And from there, the physical contact came surprisingly easy and frequent to you two.

A tentative brush of a hand on your arm, an offered elbow if the situation called for it, a half-sided hug. Many if not all of these touches were nothing but friendly in their nature, no different from those Steve would give to Natasha or Bucky or Sam – and yet they whispered of tender intimacy. And they lit you on fire; and while on occasion that fire was burning you from inside out, driving you to the point of madness, most of the time, it was a fire that felt gentle and safe.

And while touching seemed easy as it was with Steve, at least where he initiated it, you felt there were two defining moments where the remaining barriers between you cracked with deafening and soothing noise.

One of them was the first true touch you had initiated since being in a hospital bed after the Hydra mess. It was back when you had found Stevefalling apart, a flashback catching him unexpectedly when the fireworks for his own birthday had gone off – or that much had been your guess at the time.

The memory haunted you with heartache and fondness at once; his ass in those nicely fitting slacks planted on the floor in an abandoned remote Tower corridor, back pressed against the wall, fingers in his hair gripping and making sure his palms were covering his ears.

You had approached him slowly that evening – tentative for multiple reasons – making as heavy steps as you could so he could feel you coming. You seated your ass – in a blue summer dress reaching above your knees – next to him, close, but not touching at first. Then, when you could tell he registered your presence – somehow slightly more relaxed and more strung up at once – you scooted over, just resting your bare shoulder against his, your heart having leapt to your throat at the contact.

And that was it. You just sat there next to him, silently asking Friday for not letting anyone else into this section of the Tower for the moment.

You sat there, breathing, feeling the warmth radiating off Steve’s bicep and in return you let him feel yours, until the grip on his hair loosened; until part of his weight rested against your shoulder and his hands fell slack on the floor. Only then you spoke to him quietly, laying your hand next to his, a tentative offer he accepted after a while. Moments, long, quiet but not torturous ticked by; and after, he rasped a thank you, rising to his feet, using the hold on your hand to help you up, a shy smile – a little, broken thing –painted his lips before he returned to the party, probably feeling as hungover from the experience as you did.  

The second of the breaking points was your embarrassing breakdown at the animal shelter; that day, Steve’s arms enveloped you fully and firmly against his chest for the first time, a protective embrace trying to shield you from the hurt that was echoing from within you, coaxing you to release that pain as if he could take it and add its weight to his world-wielding shoulders. And in a way, he did.

Accepting the offer of today’s sparring session felt like breaking the third seal.

Steve had corrected your stance or grip or technique before; but sparring with any of the Avengers had been of a short supply, one that started to fill up after the Hydra incident. Yet, sparring with Steve seemed to apply to other Avengers, Bucky most of all, because they were equal in strength and enhanced reflexes.

As with just about anything, Steve gave you the chance to back out, to say no; but you recognized the very offer as one of the olive branches which he seemed to extent more and more frequently. He had arranged your training sessions with other Avengers – or at least nudged them to suggest it, you were nearly sure of it – seeing them as opportunities to bond with your teammates; but so far he had avoided inviting you himself. Not to work out but to actually spar with him.

There was something exhilarating about saying yes, terrifying and tempting at once, a cocktail you found yourself drinking bottoms-up more and more frequently when it came to opening up as well. Especially when it came to Steven Grant Rogers.

And while the first few advances during the session were reluctant, you gradually eased into it.

To ease into sparring with Steve was a thrill, a hum of adrenalin and fun in your very bones. You found yourself panting; you found yourself grinning, Steve’s praise fuelling your nearly successful attempts at taking him down.

The physical effort in trying to take down a supersoldier, even as you knew he wouldn’t purposely hurt you, was not the only reason why your heart was beating so fast; the sight of him grinning, sparkles in his eyes, arms in particular bulging since he had to keep his fists up, all that certainly played a role too.

The air in the gym was charged with something playful; and it crackled of something else too, something electric you wouldn’t dare to give a name to, but you’d gladly let it tickle your skin even if the act whispered of danger that had nothing to do with the size of Steve’s shoulders and body in general, nor his strength. Nor the scent of peak masculine that seemed to wrap around you in welcomed but suffocating manner.

Another of the exciting things – things that made your blood rush fast and heat settle in your belly deeper and hotter than you’d be willing to admit under the threat of death – was Steve’s incredibly varied style of fighting.

To someone who didn’t know better, it would seem that the fight would have had a clear choreography. To someone who would take one single look at Steve and then you, it would seem the fight was about to be about two very different forces of nature. Strength and size on Steve’s side; agility, flexibility and technique on yours. You had seen an advanced mock battle like that before, back when you were only with SHIELD – with Mack and Bobbi. These two were the embodiment of these two apparent opposites, even as they sampled from another. And Mack, the mountain of muscle he was, certainly was far from a slow hunk; but the sheer amount of his muscles did render him less agile than Bobbi.

But that could not be less true where your opponent was concerned – and the main difference between Mack and Steve, much like the reason for it, was clear as day.

Steve Rogers had not been a hunk when he had begun to learn how to fight. When he had begun, he was forced to learn how to use his smaller body with enough wit to try and beat someone almost twice his size.

He still remembered that; and seeing it in action was tantalizing and damn well distracting at times, leading your thoughts astray, down the sinful path of how well he might be able to control and execute his moves in a very different setting. Yet, a little fraction of your mind, one that wasn’t actively participating in guiding you to dodge Steve’s hits and kicks nor was busy with calming your hormones, admired that – and recognized moves from at least eight different martial arts Steve was effortlessly weaving into his advances and defence alike. And he was doing so with an exhilarated smile on his face.

It rang true to his words back in that Hydra base; he did enjoy hand-to-hand even before the serum, but only once he had learned that there were ways to outwit the enemy, a little like David had with Goliath. Except Steve was a bit of both right now and it made him not an easy opponent to beat.

You enjoyed it a little more than you’d be willing to admit, but you suspected Steve knew.

By the look he gave you when you flipped away from his kick aimed to your ribs last second, a look that made something deep within your core tremble with thrilling heat, you also suspected Steve liked it.

He teased you; he pretended to aim punch one way, only to change it last moment to keep you on your toes. He avoided your attacks, sometimes with ease, sometimes barely, because he was not the only one who had learned how to confuse their enemy to gain advantage. Still, sometimes punches and kicks landed – and you’d be bruised tomorrow even as Steve was obviously pulling his punches as not to cause fatal internal bleeding on you.

The thing was, you did no care for bruises; because more often than not, before the pain registered, it was a very different feeling that flickered to life at the point of contact and spread through your veins like a wildfire.

You had a fair amount of experience with sparring, sparring with attractive colleagues too; but never in your life you had found a hold on your fist, a forearm aligned to a forearm, a hold on your ankle, a touch to a thigh so damn intoxicating.

And intoxicating was the right word; because it was messing with your head in both welcomed and unwelcomed ways and it landed you in a trap; your heart and then your body, firmly in Steve’s hold.

You knew exactly how you found yourself in the headlock, but that was no help to you, especially since your first thought, despite the adrenalin coursing through your veins, was that Steve’s front pressed to your back was very warm, very firm and very much appreciated.

You had known you were in trouble a second before Steve’s arm closed around you. But it was too late. He already had you in his grip; and your mind had already steered into gutter, even if for a moment.

Focus.

While you could tell Steve was trying his damnest not to hurt you, his hold on you was unrelenting, not leaving an inch of space for movement besides you possibly tapping out. Which you would do about as soon as the hell would freeze over.

But there were others way of getting out and you would not give up without trying.

Judging by the firm resistance Steve put against your attempts to escape – and good god, how did he just walk around with biceps and forearms this size – he wasn’t completely shying away from his enhancement.

So neither should you.

Closing your eyes a moment, you allowed yourself, albeit with a pang of guilt, another precious moment of feeling Steve’s body enveloping you; then, another moment of indulging in the sight provided by your mind’s eye, of Steve’s large body curled around yours.

And then snapped your eyes open to that very image, your spectre materializing behind him.

There was no time to waste; Steve would soon recognize the change in tension of your actual body. And yet. You couldn’t help but simply feel for another beat of your heart. The heat of his body curled around your back as well as him nearly touching your front now, his t-shirt straining around his broad shoulders and his absurdly narrow waist that called for you to wrap your legs around it.

But you had no right to do that; and admiring his physique and indulging in his presence was not why your spectre was behind him.

Standing on your tiptoes, noticing the slight wince in his posture as he had indeed registered a change in your physical body, even if he clearly hadn’t identified its cause yet, you leaned as close to his left ear as you could, and whispered:

“On your left.”

Visibly startled, he snapped his head to the source of the sudden noise.

You’d swear you heard Bucky laugh at the other end of the gym – but you didn’t let it distract you beyond a ghost of a smile on your lips.

This was your moment; as soon as you felt was the slightest loosening of Steve’s hold, you seized the opportunity, snapping back. And for all Steve’s fast reflexes, he was not quick enough to stop you from escaping the previously perfect headlock when his first instinct was to grab after the new attacker – your spectre – his fingers only brushing air by the time he did so.

He was not quick enough to react to straighten his posture either, to catch you or his wits before you were curling under his empty arms and sweeping his legs from under him, and causing him to land with his back on the mat with a surprised huff and a thud so powerful it nearly shook the floor under your feet.

You knew he let you win when you managed to climb on top of him and pin him down; but it still felt pretty good to outwit him a little. And to straddle him, holding down his hands which he could with no doubt laughable ease free from your ordinary human grasp.

He huffed a chuckle as he let his head hit the mat, before his gaze found yours again.

“You’re playing dirty.”

For but a second, a tiny but loud voice in your head snapped at you to apologize this instant for cheating, to respond appropriately to your superior berating you; but he wasn’t. There was no malice in Steve’s voice. If anything, he seemed amused, lacing his words with the smallest hint of admiration and praise.

Who knew Captain America himself would approve of sneakiness?

You. You did. These days, you knew. But seeing, hearing and feeling was believing; and all your senses registered that it was all kinds of fine and it inflated your chest with a feeling unknown, of which you were beginning to believe equalled what people usually felt when coming home.

It was a feeling pumping up courage straight into your veins.

One corner of your lips lifted in a smirk mirroring Steve’s, even as your chest was rising and falling rapidly after the exertion needed to get him on his back. “Using what I have. What’s your excuse for holding back, Captain?”

He was holding back; despite the fun and valuable lectures you were gaining, you could see as much and feel it every time he landed a hit. Sure, the aim of sparring was not to beat each other senseless; but he was holding back a little too much. He seemed to be enjoying himself too; but he could do a lot better.

“What I have,” he retorted, a serious note lacing his voice, causing you to sober up a fraction. “It’s dangerous not to. You know it is, better than anyone. You felt it.”

You had felt and were feeling all sorts of things indeed; and you understood his point. But as your mind wandered several directions, some less decent than others, it occurred to you just how, professionally speaking, rare your chance to spar with Steve was.

“Well, one might argue about the opposite being true. The numbers of enhanced people and Inhumans keep rising. And if our biggest escapade yet told us anything, it’s that the serum will always be a hot issue,” you reasoned and despite your rather compromising position, you could tell Steve was genuinely considering your words. “It’s a matter of time before I run into someone with enhanced strength and reflexes in the field… they might not have your level of skills, but still. We’re wasting an opportunity for me to learn how to fight them better.”

The shift in atmosphere following your words was almost palpable, filling your lungs with regret; Steve gulped, all humour bleeding off from his face, dark thoughts gathering like clouds over the sunshine that had been in his smile.

It was obvious he saw your point; you just weren’t sure why you had made it, when it meant disrupting the previously perfect flow and playful atmosphere. A moodkiller, were you? You had been having such a good time earlier.

Then again, that was hardly a surprise, was it? Good times didn’t last; not for you. Sooner or later, you’d taint them with your presence, with your past, your lack of finesse and skill or doomsday mindset. Always.

Your felt your body turning rigid, cold despite the sweat running down your back, ribcage tightening, your gaze growing absent as you retreated into the maze of your mind and memories, every step taken backwards leading you deeper and deeper between the walls that knew no escape-

-and the tender touch to your hand pulled you right back, Steve’s face coming back to focus. It was but a brush on your forearm; on a hand you didn’t remember taking off Steve’s forearm.

While you were still on top of him, he was on top of the situation; and while you should be having a firm grip on him, your opponent, you had someone you trusted with your life gently holding you, if by nothing else but his fingertips barely caressing your skin. There was no doom on his face, no scolding, no insult, no mocking; just intent and focus written in his surprisingly softened features.

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

The words came out quiet, yet you felt their power shake something within you, releasing the suffocating tension in your chest, something in the air shifting towards a wholly new direction.

You didn’t think Bucky and Sam were in the gym anymore; the large room was filled with nothing but faint sounds of your and Steve’s breathing, the space expanding and shrinking at once, a whole world concentrated in the sincerity of Steve’s blue eyes.

If the third seal of touching Steve had broken by accepting the sparring session, the fourth was being broken when you allowed yourself to feel the tenderness of his rough fingertips on your skin and the firmness and stability of his body under yours.

“You won’t,” you whispered back, your faith in those words steady as the foundation of Earth. So steady you mentally propped your hand on it and rose to bravery, reaching a decision that somehow felt like losing the ground under your feet and enjoying doing so. “I trust you, Steve.”

“With your life?” he questioned softly, gaze roaming your face, trapping you in a world of its own.

Distantly and vividly at once, you recalled the conversation you had led in the med bay almost a month back, a shiver running down your spine. And it was not at all unpleasant.

Knowing in your core that the decision you had reached was the right one, you released a shaky breath, throat tight with both anxiety and overwhelming relief.

“That too.”

Then, a beat of silence. You were fully aware of what you were saying; what you were hinting had.

And you knew that Steve, brilliant, brilliant Steve, was too, because even with his ability to appear stoic – ability you could proudly say you had penetrated more than once – his expression changed. A subtle shift in his features; a drastic one.

Transforming with something you were suddenly terrified to read.

For ten frantic beats of your heart, you observed him with dreadful anticipation, before the weight of your own words became too much, panic attempting to seize you as you fought with vigour not to show the crucial realization that had dawned on you.

You just made a mistake.

You had misread the situation, you had misread it all.

You basically told Steve you were ready for a shift in your relationship; but it was too late.

Steve wasn’t interested anymore, even if there was something in his eyes that appeared so damn soft after your admission and you’d swear you had seen a glimmer of want in those widened pupils during the sparring session. But you were wrong.

He had been content with the blooming friendship, the spark needed for romance already gone, rationality overtaking whatever feelings had possessed him earlier, the realization you were too much work, too much to handle and not enough of anything else overweighting his previous courage to try with you.

You had missed your shot; and you just exposed yourself to judgement.

Before the emptiness of losing something you had never actually had could swarm your body completely with pain you wished was only spectral, a loud thud from the other part of the gym – making you realize you were very much not alone – froze the sensation in its progress.

On autopilot, you climbed off Steve swiftly, offering him your hand even as the idea of you lifting the hunk of muscle Steve was was laughable at best.

You did not feel like laughing.

You cleared your throat, forcing a nonchalant smile, nonchalant tone, nonchalant everything.

“Two out of three?” you offered, thanking all gods you ever heard of that Steve accepted your hand with the same amount of nonchalance, his hand warm and firm around yours.

You tried to smile despite feeling like projecting your spectre to damn Australia just so you didn’t have to deal with the brutal confession you had so irresponsibly and stupidly gave out.

And yet. There was something shockingly warm in Steve’s expression as he nodded, giving you hope you hadn’t messed up as cardinally as you thought, his gaze a little absent as if he was just as lost in his own mind as you wanted to retreat into yours and never leave.

Not wanting to give into hope nor the despair, you did what you always had; you shoved the incident and possible consequences deep within where they couldn’t hurt you momentarily, desperately latching onto the workout itself. You tried to tell yourself you should cherish the blessing of spending time with Steve, even if it might be the last time before you’d go back into the shouting matches and two strangers living and working in close quarters mode.

“Sure. Have at it, Spectre.”

He made a little gesture with his hand and he raised his arms for defence, determination that somehow appeared to reach beyond besting you in combat appearing on his face and making your heart tremble with everything but fear.

“I will. But no holding back. Not that much, at least.”

The brief smile passing Steve’s lips felt somewhat meaningful, a warning sending your heart into frenzy; but whenever had it not.

“Don’t worry, Spectre. I won’t.”

If there was one thing Steve could do really well – among many others, because of course he did – it was delivering on his promises.

He was not holding back; or at least he was holding back on holding back, and the results were immediate.

His smile grew wider, his energy practically sparking, his movements faster and considerably more challenging than before. He allowed himself to let go; and he leaned fully into you doing the same, the stakes rising, as much as the fun. And tension.

A very palpable tension you couldn’t deny, air heavy and delicious in your lungs, your heart once again racing from more than the insanely intense workout.

Steve went – almost – all in. And damn, was that a challenge, like a steep hill to climb; quite a literal one, since Steve was a mountain of muscle.

What a sight.

A cheeky smile when you tried to trick him with projecting again; his grip a little firmer, growing even more difficult to escape it when you weren’t sure you wanted to; not when he spared a playful remark, his breath brushing your skin and sending shivers down your back. Huffs of laughter when you squinted at him after every unsuccessful attempt to get him on his back.

His attacks were much more successful; and it wasn’t just the speed and the strength.

It was the stamina.

Which was a thought that sent your mind to the gutter more than once, but you could not let it. Not even when he got you on his back with an embarrassingly loud thud on the mattress.

He had tired you out; that was what had had you done. So much that you remained lying flat on your back for several seconds, blinking and catching your breath.

Steve’s panting form appeared in your field of vision, his cheekiness and thrill of a friendly and surprisingly challenging fight erased and quickly replaced by concern.

“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

It was sweet. Almost.

You huffed, unable to hold back the stink eye when the concern disappeared from his features, replaced by mischief.

“What do you think? … I’m fine. Completely fine.”

As he offered you a hand, one corner of his lips quirked up in painfully contagious amusement.

“Then stop napping. Come on.”

And you did.

By the third time he bested you, you felt like you were supposed to take that nap; because hadn’t it been for him, you might have sprained something, if not broken.

If there was one thing you were better at than Steve, even if it still was an annoyingly close call, it was gymnastics. You moved a little faster, was able to stretch a bit further, flip over to avoid hits more effectively.

Until you didn’t.

With your movements growing sluggish, the power behind your punches less explosive, your jumps reaching lower, you missed a step; you failed to put enough strength into your take-off. Like a lightning, the realization hit you mid-flip that the landing would not be pleasant, let alone graceful – and your body had no chance to react properly in time, not with how slow your motions had turned.

Squeezing your eyes shut, muscles strung for the impact you braced yourself for, you swore to yourself you would not cry out in pain, clenching your jaw for a good measure.

And then you were landing in something solid and warm and safe and the world was tumbling and spinning until it stood still except for the two sets of frantic heartbeats and laboured breaths, everything coming back to focus.

The everything being Steve securely holding you to his chest as you sat your ass on the ground, your legs bend over his outstretched thighs.

Snapping your eyes open, you met his worried blues roaming as he was already taking count of your possible injuries – which were zero thanks to his save. Ears ringing from the unexpected tumble, warm proximity and the intensity of Steve’s gaze, it flashed through your mind that had Steve ever decided to quit his job, he would probably make good money as a top spotter in gymnastic due to his reflexes and quick thinking like that.

And you’d love to return to professional gymnastics if he had, because landing in his arms did things to your heart that might not be healthy, but were certainly entirely pleasant, every single of your senses sinking into him. The heat radiating off his skin, the musk mixed with his cologne, the taste of his breath on your lips, his beauty still so startling from up close, and finally his voice, husky with worry.

“Are you alright?”

Very much so, you wanted to reply, lost in the deep sea of blue with sweet green speckles; lost until you realized he was asking because you might have nearly broken your neck with the awkward flip.

You cleared your throat, trying to blink away the haze.

“Uhm, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks to you,” you mumbled, licking your lips as your gaze flickered to Steve’s mouth, the heat surrounding your body suddenly unbearable with the improper thoughts it awoken.

He had caught you because he was your superior. He was responsible for you and he was your friend and he cared, and he would feel awful if you got hurt, because he had been the one to suggest the sparring. It would be completely unprofessional and low of you to use the position it had landed you in as an excuse to taste those lips for real-

You shifted in his embrace, a clear signal you wanted him to release you – even if you didn’t – his hold on you instantly easing, causing you to release the breath that caught in your chest when he had so sincerely asked you if you weren’t hurt.

He smiled at you as he let you to climb to your feet first, joining you swiftly once you weren’t in his way.

“Are you sure you’re-”

“I’m fine, Steve. Really… “ you reassured him, even as you felt your stance being a little shaky from exertion. “And thank you. Really.”

“Happy to help. Should we take a break?”

You looked at him incredulously, trying and failing to asses if he was being serious or teasing you; the way one corner of his lips quirked in a smile did not help your assessing process.

But for once, you were done. Any further sparring would probably ended up in you truly hurting yourself.

Not to mention it wouldn’t be fair.

“Steve if you haven’t caught me, I’d be on my back, probably with something broken. I think it’s safe to say this counts like the third point for you… and even if it didn’t, you’d get me on the ground within a minute. This,” you gestured vaguely on the mat where you had been sitting, in his arms, across his lap, FOCUS, “just proves I stand no chance anymore. You won. Fair and square. Congrats. And thanks for not letting me win just because.”

“Just because?” he questioned, the other corner of his lips turning higher too, his eyes sparkling with something that made your stomach flutter.

Just because I like you? his smile seemed to say, but that might be your fatigue and slight dehydration putting ideas in your head and it was not what you meant. Entirely. You weren’t that confident.

You cleared your throat as you reached for your water bottle. “Just because you’re a gentleman.”

You took a generous sip, eyeing Steve as he shrugged.

“I try. But I wouldn’t-“ You raised your eyebrow at him, making him chuckle self-deprecatingly. “Okay, that’s fair.”

You smiled too. “I’d say. Now, I made a fatal mistake – I didn’t agree on the wager before losing. So, what’s it gonna be, winner?”

Your own question, the admission of losing, took you by surprise; it felt so much lighter than you’d expect. Looking back at how you and Steve interacted in the past few weeks, it shouldn’t have. But it did.

Had this happened two months ago, you’d try to bury yourself six feet under for the humiliation alone. But a lot had changed since then; and you might still be learning, but you were trying your best to see things without actively assuming everyone thought low of you just because you weren’t perfect.

And right now, the thing was that Steve would not mock you for losing against him. He would not throw it to your face that you had asked him not to hold back and he wouldn’t automatically assume you had done so because you were being cocky and that led to him beating you; if anything, the look on Steve’s face whispered of respect. He might have won, but he had seemed almost impressed every time he got a point on you, as if he admired you for holding your own against him for so long. Whenever he had offered you a hand to get up, firm and gentle at once, a combination that you read in his actions in him more and more often, it wasn’t a superior offering a hand to a weak member of his team; as absurd as it sounded, it was almost as if an equal was offering a hand to an equal.

As if a friend was genuinely offering help to their friend.

And with something in his gaze speaking louder than words, the line of friendship was blurring with each passing moment.

But friends or not, you owed him; and unlike what you’d be two months ago, you weren’t afraid of being at his mercy. In fact, there were scenarios flowing in your mind where the idea of being at his mercy appeared more than appealing.

But this was not the time; as far as you knew, it might never be the time.

You shook off the thought for your own wellbeing and as not to be a downer, again.

“Come on, Steve. You’ve earned it. What’s the pay up? Publicly stepping up during training and declaring you’re a better fighter which everyone already knows, or wearing a ridiculous costume to a meeting?” you suggested, chuckling nervously under his intent gaze, not sure what to make of it. Had you been wrong and had he planned some diabolical task? Surely, he wouldn’t… right? “Or buying you coffee for a month, doing your laundry, vacuum cleaning and cleaning up, being stuck on rewriting mission logs duty-”

“Have dinner with me.”

You almost dropped your bottle at the soft offer, your heart skipping a startled and unfairly excited beat. His voice was so quiet and tender you were half-convinced you had suffered a blow to the head which you couldn’t remember and you were now hallucinating.

Except Steve continued, a little more firmly and steadily as he took a reluctant step closer, his gaze never leaving your face.

“Have dinner with me,” he repeated. “Not because I won, I don’t care for that. I’d never use that or anything else to force you, I hope you know that. But… have dinner with me… as a date. If you still want to.” He licked his lips, the motion drawing your gaze like a magnet, almost distracting you from how nervous his smile appeared all of sudden. “Earlier… you said you trusted me. Did I misread it?”

Of course.

Of course he had understood immediately and of course that his determination, one that had seemed to encompass more than met the eye, had been about more than winning. Now you knew what; and not for a second you’d think he was trying to force you into anything, had been plotting ever since you had told him not to hold back. You knew in your very core this was not something Steve did, because he had been so wonderfully patient and kind and maybe a little bit flirty and every single touch seemed to carry meaning and you had grown closer, you had learned things about him that kept revealing him as even more of a beautiful person that you had ever imagined, but if there was any doubt that all, it was that perhaps with his out-of-charts reading skills, you had forced him to act when you had suggested you might be ready for more.

You didn’t really believe Steve could be pushed into something he didn’t want to do, but the worm of insecurity was nestled deep. What if… what if?

“You’re not wrong, Steve. You’re… an attentive reader. I just…” You shook your head, an unsure smile playing on your lips, causing him to frown, an expression you were quick to avoid by casting your gaze downwards. “You don’t have to… you know, just because I said that, you don’t have to-“

His sneakers entered your field of vision, causing you to gulp, your eyes briefly flickering up; before you could escape the weight of his gaze again, his index finger slid under your chin and pushed up in a gentle touch that had you shiver, butterflies swarming your belly as you lost yourself in the blue of his eyes like many times before.

His damn touch; so soft and meaningful, barely there and yet leaving a brand you’d proudly wear any day-

“No, doll, I really do have to, because if I read it right and if you’re ready to try… I’m not letting this chance slip through my fingers. I think you are beautiful, brilliant, incredibly driven and strong. You make me laugh, you make me question everything I know, you keep me on my toes and I enjoy every single minute of getting to know you, of being with you, in any capacity, and… I’d like it to continue, preferably over a dinner,” he said, a little innocently teasing smile in the corner of his plush lips as if his thumb wasn’t mere inches from your mouth, as if his fingertips hadn’t brushed along your jaw while he had been talking, almost subconscious movement it seemed, as if your heart wasn’t beating its way out of your chest because he had easily weaved a year worth of compliments into asking you out on a date, as if something within you wasn’t trembling and he hadn’t laid something beautiful and terrifying and delightful at your fingertips, as if he wasn’t at your fingertips, the most breathtaking mirage that made your lips tingle with the need to meet his.

At your stunned silence, a shadow of self-doubt masked as the lightest chuckle, his hand dropped from your face. Much to your regret.

“It… it doesn’t have to be a dinner, it can definitely be different kind of meal. Or… not a meal, it can be something different, maybe a museum or a picnic in a park or… anything you’d like, I’d just… I’d like it to be something where I get to treat you right.”

Your urge to kiss him senseless and your body’s need to melt where you stood grew exponentially with every word, something acutely warm and suffocating and overwhelmingly good blooming in your chest, the nerves now lacing Steve’s voice only fuelling the sensation; because it seemed even Steve Rogers could be in a situation where he needed to gather a little courage and was willing to show it to you, because he trusted you and shared with you.

There was no saying no to this, especially since he was still standing so damn close to you, looking at you like he had meant every damn word he said, as if that truly was how he saw you despite everything.  

“Well… uhm, I’d really love that,” you choked out, his smile making its return with brightness, causing you to feel giddiness you didn’t know you could feel, your lips curling up in a smile before you could stop it. “But it hardly seems fair, does it?”

Steve’s eyebrows rose a bit, his expression telling you he understood you were only teasing him now. A little. The majority of you was just you trying to distract him while you processed the fact he seemed taken by you for some reason – the reasons he had listed to make his case – and just asked you out and you had basically already said yes and he was still so close and tall that you could just stand on your tiptoes and-

“Hm, what does?”

What had you been talking about? Oh.

“Well, I lost the match… and this makes me feel like a winner.”

The flicker of something tender was brief, but it was certainly there before a brilliant grin took over, his hand enveloping yours, thumb brushing over your inner wrist just above your sparring glove. The simple touch sent an outrageously intense electrifying feeling up through your body. You weren’t sure you could survive a date with Steve, but damn would you try; for all the touches you had exchanged before, this one was charged with something deliciously new and expectant, the air in the room almost crackling as Steve took your other wrist into a gentle hold as well.

“I don’t see the issue with that… and since I am the winner, I make the rules. So… that’s a yes, right?” he asked once more for confirmation, the thinnest thread of uncertainty among the delight making your body act before your brain caught up.

You simply couldn’t resist. Well-aware the room was already empty, feeling like million bucks despite losing – and truly, losing had never felt and would never again feel so good – you quickly stood on your tiptoes, using Steve’s hip as a support, and pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek, retreating just as fast.

You didn’t miss the fact his gaze flickered down to your lips as you stepped back and unwittingly escaped his hold, your lips still burning from the brief touch to his skin.

“It’s a yes,” you assured him, voice a little shaky from the adrenalin coursing your veins. You couldn’t believe you just kissed him; on a cheek, yes, and it should not affect you like you were a blushing girl in a kindergarten, but the warmth in Steve’s eyes and the new hint of pink to his cheeks told you perhaps you were not alone in your giddiness and nerves. It felt empowering and silly all at once; and sweet and beautiful. Almost as beautiful as Steve’s smile shining with the power of thousands suns after receiving the simplest of affections. “Let me know when and where.”

“I will. …stretch with me?”

For the second time, you couldn’t quite help your reaction; but this time, your brain was much faster than it should have, the – given the environment innocent – suggestion somehow connecting with planning the date in your mind in the most inappropriate manner.

You sputtered, glad for not having taken another sip of water just yet, and burst out laughing despite there being nothing laughable about Steve helping you stretch or helping you stretch.

The tips of Steve’s ears turned bright red with fascinating speed, his face a hilarious image of pure horror.

“Oh no, I did not mean-“

“Sure you didn’t, Steve,” you choked out between laughter, his embarrassment turning into exasperation at your childishness. And you’d believe it if the laughter wasn’t already glimmering in his eyes. “Sorry, sorry, yeah. Sure, let’s… stretch.”

“Great, let’s-”

“I could use a partner for stretching, haven’t had one for a while,” you hummed nonchalantly, a smirk threatening to break as something exhilarating flashed in Steve’s irises at your – given the environment innocent – confession. Whether his pupils dilated from surprise or something dangerously resembling desire, you weren’t sure – but it made you want to giggle and laugh and cry, your cheeks beginning to hurt as well as the rest of your body.

Your grin only widened when Steve opened his mouth without a sound coming out, before resigning to reaching for his own bottle, using it as a pointer.

“…I didn’t mean that. You know that I didn’t--- of course, you do,” he stumbled over his words a bit, sighing when he could see your amusement only growing, shaking his head with a lopsided and slightly incredulous smile. “You’re trouble… I think I like it.”

He only thinks? He isn’t sure? echoed in your head, but you didn’t let the flicker of insecurity get to you. Not now. Not after this lovely incident that shot up your confidence all the way to the high ceiling of the gym.

“Maybe I should cause trouble more often then, Captain.”

Identifying the spark in Steve’s eyes as want, you smiled to yourself, not quite sure what to do with yourself, but knowing this must have been what being happy and in love felt like.

“Yeah. Maybe you should.”

Second part of epilogue

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Thank you for your patience and for reading 💕

The second part of the fluffy epilogue should come soon enough, since it's already written (...it's how I found out this one hasn't been posted 🥲)

May the endless January begone, welcome February - may it be kind to you 💕

[chesters-kiddo-corner]

My asks are open! Yay!!

This is a long winded post to explain that, but read on if you might like a buddy!

🦌🦆🐇🪿🐴🦘🐻🐌🐄

Hi tinies :) I am new on the tumblr scene so idk how this works, but I started this blog with the intention of making connections, ergo kiddo corner! I love talking to people and I would love to hear from you kiddos! You can look on my page to get an idea of my vibe :) You can request/ask/tell me about many things!!

Ask me to write cg concepts or headcanons :00 whether for a certain thing you've been struggling with recently or something you need to hear, my mama and big bubby love to contribute to these posts and both have the kindest hearts <3

Moodboards , gifsets or png requests (for colors, characters, animals, etc) , I really love making those and I love nostalgia

Talk to me as a big brother :)

I can make quick little sketches for you!!! I love drawing! I was previously a commission artist so I can draw people and animals :)

Ask me questions! I love answering questions :) I also love infodumping, so if you like fun facts I'm the guy! I love rocks and reptiles and traveling and the arts and so many things.

Tell me about you! Celebrate or check in or tell me about your interests! I would love to hear.

Talk to me about being FTM, having a traumagenic system, being spiritual amidst all those things, or anything about identity-related stuff. I don't mind sharing and I would love to help others if I can.

Ask me for advice! Little time advice, show reccommendations, spiritual advice, mental health, anything at all. I've struggled with my mental health a lot and found some things that work for me so I would love to help others too.

You can look in my pinned posts if you are wondering what you can call me. You can do anon emojis or not I dont mind :) you all are so cool and I've really enjoyed my time here so far. Happy day lovies! I hope this all makes sense!

[neverstophyo]

  ✦    ⤹    점점 더 난 네게 빠져가    ⊹    ❍

    ⟢    ₊    ↷ 𝒴ou attack my heart!

⠀   ͡ ׅ ۟  kassiadreams/siyzuii  ָ֢  ֹ  ֹ ۪ 𝟥 new layout? do we fw it?

✦   ⁔⁔ ۪   my first moodboard ever idek what they're used for but i love making them (not dr related like i said it would be.. but oh well i'm obsessed with chuu in the underwater mv anyway) i hope it looks decent?? might put one for every post if i feel like it heheheh ⊹  ֗  

☆⠀⠀𓈒⠀⠀ׁ⠀⠀this song is truly the cutest thing ever and a literal masterpiece at that, dare i say my fav kpop song!! ok now back to the actual post sorry LOL⠀ ׅ⠀⠀ ͡

── NEW INTRO POST 🔔

◌⠀ׁ₊   ˚  hiii!!! this is my shifting blog (and also my main blog)!! my username used to be siyzuii and i used to go by xylia or léa so u might know me from there but i go by kassia now! (close friends can still call me stella ofc)

i shift.. obviously anyway i've shifted to my dr 3 times now and shifted to parallel realities (on accident too) like a whole lot of times i can't even count

i have discord, tiktok, and instagram but i pretty much only use discord & tiktok, i exclusively use insta if there's someone i'm friends with that genuinely doesn't have any other socials.

note that i also only post shifting content on here. but i'm also 10x more active on discord & tiktok (mostly discord) than i am on tumblr, so feel free to add me (pls ask for my user first bc i have anti shifter friends and i don't want them finding this lol)

i also write and make edits (like every 2 months) yay!!!!

── INTERACT NEOW!!!

other shifters (specifically kpop shifters i need my spotify premium back. hi yes lets yap about our drs together pls) (honestly i'll yap with anyone about each others drs) (this is a silent invitation)

i don't care if you don't believe in shifting, if you respect people who do believe in it (and aren’t gonna force your beliefs on them) feel free to interact! i don't know why you would but whatever

cool people!!!

── GO!!!!

anti shifters (bye)

basic dni criteria

people who actively hate on everything (do you have a life?)

── WHAT TO EXPECT FROM MY PAGE

shifting content (mostly storytimes & yapping and whatever with the occasional sprinkle of memes)

shitty & messy blog layouts because idk how this app works

rants

yapping

probably me going inactive for either 2 days or 2 weeks straight (school keeps me busy and i already skipped my homework for this)

i might call u slurs if we get close!! (THAT I CAN RECLAIM)

me NOT talking about my favs (i cant openly talk about them idk why it's so embarrassing bye)

potentially horrid english because english is not my first language (i pull this excuse every time)

slow replies on here bc i forget about this app 24/7

── MY CARRD

kassiadreams.carrd.co

literally this whole thing summarized

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ♡ ͟ ׂ 𓂂 THANKS FOR 400+ FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU GUYS MWAH !! should i do anything special?? if u have any ideas lmk and i'll see what i can do LOL

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⊹ ׂ ok i know a while ago i said to drop some stuff in my ask box bc i'm bored but i havent answered any of them yet BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO FIND THEM UNTIL I GOT ON MY PC AGAIN so i'm gonna restart this time i SWEAR ill actually go over them from now on everything you ask i WILL see. thx guys!!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⋆ ۫ ໒ give me post suggestions i beg..

[ane-doodles]

Hellow!

I'm tired most of the time, but drawing is super fun!!

Basic info: 20+ y/o, and art student.

Fandoms and stuff:

Currently you can find fanarts and AUs here about

• FNAF SB Daycae attendant: Tiny Maids AU! - Kitsune AU! - Not human AU!

• CULT OF THE LAMB: Chain for a promise - AU Reference sheets

Social media:

Carrd (From here you can reach my social networks, commission information along with examples and other ways to support me.)

Cara portfolio (I'm still new here so for a while I will be re-uploading my finished drawings before sharing the newer ones.)

Permissions:

• You can reblog my art!

• You can use my art as pfp if you want (but with credits please)

• You have permission to dub any of my comics, just let me know first! and please don't use AI voices

• You can use my art as reference, but do not trace it or copy

• You can make fanarts of my designs, aus and ocs!! That would be wonderfully fun (just be respectful)

• I DON'T ALLOW REPOST OF MY ART ANYWHERE

You can support me:

Ko-fi! < You can leave a small tip and I'll be as happy as a puppy.

Commissions! (Open) < You can enter my ko-fi page and read my information. Before you take a slot you can discuss your idea with me by DM and thus make sure that your drawing is possible for me :)

Post about: commissions

Redbubble! and Inprnt < Yup! I have a shop on Redbubble! You can find fanart, random and original content and a bit of my likes here! I will be updating more designs. At Inprnt you can find my more detailed illustrations.

Borders by: lambouillet <3

Some of my common tags:

#ane talking (text post or asks), #ane doodles yay! (All my art and sketchs), #little drawing for ane! (drawings that you give me) #Oc ane Tay! (My ocs), #ane sketchbook! (Traditional sketchs) #ane commissions! (commissions portfolio) #ane outfit inspo (moodboards based on fandoms)

#ane sketching (sketches for answers)