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purehypnotic · 5 months ago

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🎀•¸♡ 𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ♡¸•🎀

🧸𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐮𝐩 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.

🧸𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬, 𝐇𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐚𝐦, 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭𝐞��𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭. 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

🧸𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐈𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧, 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫.

🧸𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟒𝟎𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞🎀

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reverieblondie · 14 days ago

Text

Surprise Guest

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Warnings: Some dry humping, language, and self indulgent to the max.

Summary: Your brother Bucky invites a guest to spend Christmas with your family... you should have known it was Steve and that old feelings would come back up...

A/N: Hello, This is my first time writing for Steve and I would like to thank @buck-star for showing me their wonderful Fluffy Winter Event! Now if you are used to my BG3 content, this might be a bit different. But I love Steve so please don't judge! The heart wants what the heart wants. If you are new to my writing hi! hope you enjoy and if you have any ideas for Steve (or Chris Evans characters) just ask!

Tropes: Brothers Best Friend, Baking together, Dancing.

Word count: 6,469.

"Bucky's bringing a mystery guest? What, is it some new girlfriend?"

You tease, watching as your mother picks up your brother's old childhood room, fussing over the bedding and ensuring everything is still just as he left it. The only changes made are the sublet Christmas decorations to make the room appear more festive. She also kept your room in the same state when you left for college; it was like a time capsule every time you two came home for the holidays.

"Well, from my understanding, it's supposed to be some kind of surprise for us?" She says as she brushes the nonexistent dust from the curtains.

Scrunching your face and piercing your lips, you try to think about who Bucky could be bringing. It's no surprise Bucky is bringing a guest; he always seemed to bring home a stray or two when he came around for the holidays. Sometimes, it was girlfriends to meet Mom or friends from college, like Sam, who had spent last Thanksgiving with your family. But it's supposed to be a surprise… so it would have to be a girlfriend, right?

You end up just shrugging your shoulders. As long as Bucky didn't bring anyone that would make the holiday awkward, you really didn't care who was coming around.

Hours later, you're all still waiting for Bucky and the mystery guest to show up. Dad was asleep in his recliner as you and Mom wrapped presents while sharing memories from past Christmases. Fond memories flooded as you thought of the play fighting you and Bucky would always get into and the delicious sweets you would make with Mom. But the best part was just getting to see your family and making more memories with each other.

During your trip down memory lane, you didn't hear the door slowly opening, and you definitely didn't hear your brother sneaking up behind you. You did, however, feel when he suddenly squeezed you in a tight bear hug, making you scream.

Embarrassed at being spooked, you turn around and see that it's just Bucky laughing at your reaction. The panic you felt turns into elation as you hug your brother, "You asshole, you scared the crap out of me!"

Bucky laughs before ruffling your hair, "Wow, language Goober, we have a guest."

Ah, yes, the guest! You let go of Bucky and finally look towards the door, expecting to see an excited girlfriend, but when you look, your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets. Filling the doorway with a massive form was the surprise guest…tall, blonde, cute... Steve Rogers?

Blue eyes watch you intently as he stands holding what you assume to be his and Bucky's bags. You're still not even convinced it's him until you fully take in all the features of his face, full lips, nice nose, and sweet smile that shows off his cute dimples and perfect teeth. Holy shit, that is Steve.

Mom rushes up with a squeal when she sees Bucky. The loud squealing finally jerks your father awake from his snoring as he looks at what his wife could be screaming at. He seems to relax when he sees she's just fussing over Bucky like always. Usually, you would be messing with Bucky at this moment, teasing him about being late and being a mama's boy, but your focus has gone to the elephant or, well, the big bulky guy shaking your father's hand.

It's been years since you last saw Steve. Unconsciously, you touch your fingers to your lips as what feels like a storm floods your gut. You didn't mean to be staring at Steve, but you feel as if you're in shock. Of course, as you're staring, his eyes leave your fathers to return to you. He smiles at you, and it almost looks like he's about to approach before an excited, pitched scream from your mother has him startled and shooting a wide-eyed look at her.

Her excitement leaves your ears ringing as she goes to Steve, giving him a hug and promptly rubberbanding him for not coming to visit sooner. Steve just fumbles out some excuses as his eyes go from her to you and back to her. Looking back at Bucky, you inch yourself closer to him before swatting his shoulder.

"Ow! What?" He gripes.

"You didn't think to tell us it was Steve coming over?"

Bucky just gives you a smirk, "It was a surprise; you're surprised, right?"

“yeah…real surprised…” you mumble under your breath.

Both of you watch as your mom continues to gush over Steve, how it's been so long, how he's so tall and different looking, what he has been up to. All questions you wanted to ask yourself. Seeing Steve again throws you for the biggest loop, and frankly, it makes old feelings you thought died freshman year swell up. Why the hell is he here? After all this time, his face looks like some kind of sexy lab experiment gone all too right.

"Steve, we are just so happy to see you. It's been forever. I should have guessed it would have been you! Right, honey, we should have guessed!" Your mom throws her eyes towards you to see you with confused glare. "Sweetie? Aren't you going to say hi? It's Steve. Isn't that incredible!"

Some might think it's unbelievable…

Plastering an awkward smile to your face, you give a slight wave, "Hi Steve."

"Hey, Scout, it's nice to see you again; it's been a while." A smile is stretched on his full lips as he calls you his old nickname, you haven't heard in forever. You almost forgot how he always called you Girl Scout for running around with him and Bucky playing army and then baking cookies afterward. You hated that nickname before, but now that you think about it, the name fits.

There is a silence as your family watches the lukewarm reunion. Finally, your mom is moving over to you with a wide grin. "I don't think you're going to have to compare heights with him anymore." -Why is she bringing that up…

You may have had an obnoxious habit of every time Bucky would bring Steve over, you would stand next to him to compare heights. At first, it was just your little secret. You would be behind his back to make sure you weren't getting too tall too fast, but then it became a game. Steve was always a good sport about it, and you always hoped you wouldn't become taller than him. But now, as you look at his 6'2 stature, it's clear that fear wouldn't happen.

"I'll stand still so we can double-check," Steve chimes in, "It is kind of a tradition, Scout. What do you say?" Your mom looks expectantly as Bucky just gives Steve a quick pat on the back before sneaking off to the kitchen. You walk over to Steve, keeping your eyes steady on his, finding it hard not to roam your eyes down over his broad build. Okay, maybe you did seek a glance down his tight shirt, screaming across his chest, which leads to what you're sure is an impeccable abdomen and narrow waist. God, even his thighs underneath his jeans just look perfect to sit on. -Shit!

Burying down some horny thoughts, you stand in front of Steve, who now towers over you. From this close, you see that he's still every bit as cute (maybe even more handsome…), And he smells of that same musk you have come to recall so well, just this time there is just a hint of spruce. Steve has a smirk on his lips as he looks down at you, "Looks like you never got taller than me." he whispers as you judge your height with your hand; he's a whole head taller than you, maybe more.

Your cheeks flare with a blush that you're sure is reaching your ears. You look at his face, your eyes immediately going to his smiling lips, and those memories of that night in that lonely hallway come rushing back. Why is it equally wonderful to see him and make your stomach twist into a sicky storm?

"You're so tall now…" is all you can seem to answer, making Steve chuckle even more and you wish the ground would swallow you up ‘You're so tall now’ yeah no shit!

Finally, you're able to slip out an excuse completely modified at how you're turning into such a flustered schoolgirl! Steve stutters some kind of goodnight after you as you make your way up the stairs; turning back, the last thing you see is a concerned-looking Steve watching you.

You're quick to rush past all the Christmas decorations and tuck yourself away into your room, leaning your back against the door and doing what you found yourself not doing when you were so close to Steve: Breathe.

Steve Rogers, honestly, of course it's Steve. You should have considered it sooner since he's been your brother's best friend for years! He's so different now. He was as thin as a pin the last time you saw him. Now he's a total beefcake, and those fluttering feelings of a crush you thought were tamped down years ago are bubbling forward.

Steve was always a good friend, not only to your brother but to you and your family. Now that you think about it, he was always just a good person? He always defined your brother no matter what and would always help anyone in need. He was bullied and teased when you knew him, but that never stopped him from voicing his opinion and standing up for what was right. Sure, it often ended up with Steve with a busted lip and Bucky pummeling the bully, but you couldn't help but admire his courage and willingness to help people and his kindness.

A sigh slips from your chest… Steve's kindness… he really was kind, sometimes confusing, but ultimately kind…

During the winter dance, you still remember all the beautiful snowflakes in the air and the way the silver tinsel shined under the sparkling lights. It was a tradition that the school put on a Dance before winter break. As a jaded Senior, Bucky wasn't as impressed, but you, as a freshman, were beyond excited. You had saved for new heels, Mom helped you pick the perfect dress, and you even managed to somehow get a date! There was no way this night was going to be ruined!

The night did not go as planned.

Your new heels you got on sale? Snapped. The new dress you got? Ruined when someone ran into you with a full glass of punch. And your date? Your oh-so-wonderful date? He left to dance with some flirty junior…

Now, here you are, sitting on the floor outside of the dance, trying not to cry in the dark hallway. You listen to the music, just waiting until you finally hear the last song end. Then you can walk home with Bucky and Steve and forget about this embarrassing night. As if it were fate, a nearby door swings open, and who do you see? Steve Rogers.

Steve looks at you, and his jaw tenses; he immediately turns to go back into the dance to find and try to beat up your ex-date. Before he can, however, you're standing up and quickly grabbing Steve by the sleeve. Steve, being Steve, of course, pauses per your request, but you can tell he didn't want to.

Steve sits on the floor as you talk about your series of unfortunate events.

"So, how did you figure out I was out here?"

"When I saw your date dancing with Suzy, it kind of clued me in..." There was a short pause before Steve looked at you confused.

"Why did you even say yes to that idiot?"

Of course, that made you laugh before you shrugged, "I don't know. I think that I was just excited to be asked…"

Steve nods in understanding, "If that's the case, then I should have asked you."

You feel butterflies when he says it, and when you turn to look at him, he's looking forward with a noticeable blush. Dammit, he's cute.

As you sit there with Steve, the announcement of the final dance is made, and as you gather your courage to ask him to dance, Steve beats you to the question, "Dance with me?" he asked so quietly, almost like a whisper…

You smile, "I thought you didn't dance?"

"Let's just say I'm willing to dance with you."

"But I don't have shoes."

Steve just looks over at you with a warm smile before he stands, reaching his hand down towards you. "Then I guess you won't be taller than me." You bite your bottom lip as you take his hand, letting you get up. You look into his beautiful blue eyes, "I'm only an inch shorter than you and still growing."

Steve carefully places your hand on his shoulder before placing his hand on your waist, "Then let me enjoy this while I'm still tall enough to lead."

As the song goes, you dance with Steve, loving how he slightly stumbles and needs to look down at his feet every couple of paces. It's not until you move both his hands to your hips and wrap your arms to hug around his neck that the tension leaves him, and you can sway together in harmony. As you lean your head down to his shoulder, you take in his scent and surprising warmth.

"Thank you, Steve..." you whisper in his ear, Steve chuckles for a moment, his hands seeming to tighten slightly.

"I just wish I was a better dancer... for you."

"Well, I think that this is perfect." You look into his ocean eyes, "That you're perfect." His cheeks flush red as he smiles clearly not used to the complements.

You take the time to trace over his handsome features like you have so many times before, but instead of your staring being secret, Steve's eyes stay on you before they flick down your lips. Your heartbeat races, and you can feel yourself blushing redder. Caught, he quickly looks back into your eyes, but that's when you lean in, moving to play with the golden hair at the nape of his neck.

Swallowing, Steve focuses his eyes on your lips as he places his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"Steve... please…"

"Y-You Sure?"

"Yes." That's all you had to say as you closed your eyes and felt Steve take your first kiss. His full lips started sweet and shy before you felt the feeling of his tongue timidly asking for permission to push past your lips. As soon as you let him in and his tongue brushes against yours, he pulls away.

Steve looks at you guilty before he backs away. "I gotta go... tell Bucky I said goodbye."

"Steve, wait!"

But as the song ended, Steve was already gone... leaving with your first kiss and leaving you completely confused.

Thinking back on the memory makes you groan as you go over to your bed, plopping down with a thump. Who the hell kisses someone then leaves! Were you bad at it? Damn you, Steve Rogers, you fucking nerd! That stormy feeling of rejection starts to bloom within your chest. Was it rejection? It felt like it... and after the kiss, things were different. He didn't come around as much, and then he graduated.

Now he's back, tall, and still so cute. Who are you kidding? Steve looks downright sexy, and it isn't even fair! People are not supposed to get hotter like that! Steve looks like he's been living at the gym while your acne just cleared up. And from what you have seen from him tonight, he's still just as charming and lovely…

oh, universe, tho, are such a cold bitch...

The following day hits you like a ton of bricks. You feel as if you didn't get one wink of sleep last night. Dreams ranging from memories to fantasies have kept you from getting any rest. Sighing, you roll out of bed and maybe put on just a little bit of makeup... - Just to look less tired, not for any other reason…

Finally, you make it downstairs, rounding your way over to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee wafs through the air. The sight looks like one from a Christmas card, with the garland hanging from the window and the Christmas-themed tea towels everywhere. Then there's Mom making a frantic list of last-minute needs, Bucky checking his phone, and Steve? Oh, Steve. He stands drinking his cup of coffee, and his eyes seem to go from tired to bright as soon as they lock with yours.

You chime out a good morning as you enter the room. Mom and Bucky mutter out a grody morning in response.

“Good morning Scout, Coffee?” Steve says in what seems like anticipation and you just give him a small nod and a yes please as you walk to see what your mom is scratching away at.

Looking over her shoulder as you sit confirms your thought that she needs last-minute things. As soon as you sit, a mug of fresh coffee is placed in front of you, with cream and sugar to follow. Looking up, you see Steve looking down at you with that same kind smile.

Dammit, he's still so sweet…

"Such a gentleman..." your mom says almost teasingly. Yes, mom, you know! She gives you an expectant look, and all you can do is roll your eyes.

"Last-minute list? I thought last year you said you were never shopping on Christmas Eve again?" she sighs, ripping the paper from the pad. “Unfortunately, some things can't be helped. So while me and your brother are at the store, you, my favorite daughter, will do the baking."

"I'm your only daughter."

"Jury is still out on that." Bucky snarks

Rolling your eyes, you discreetly shoot Bucky the bird that he fakes being insulted by. Though as soon as mom looks up you two are going back to being civil. .

"What am I making this year?"

"Your wonderful Chocolate pie and Steve has requested Chocolate Chip Cookies." The request makes you give Steve a pointed look. He quickly turns away, making a fake whistle. You swear if he has only come back for your cookies, you don't care how big he is; you will throw him off the roof.

With the plans set Bucky slides out from his chair pocketing his phone, "Alright, Steve, let's get ready to go."

"Actually, I was going to hang back and give a hand with the baking." -what?

"She would love that! So kind!" Your mom beams -excuse me?

"Yeah, maybe you can help her keep the pies in one piece this year." Bucky snickers, teasing at the fact that every year, the pie always has a missing slice by morning. Bucky suspects it's you, considering you made it. You think it's Bucky, but nobody truly knows the truth.

"I'm not the pie thief you are," you say, pushing Bucky with your elbow. Of course, Bucky isn't just going to take that… so he shoves you back, and the sibling bickering starts.

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Am Not!"

"Are Too!"

"Shut up!" Mom is quick to end the immature argument, but it doesn't stop you and Bucky from sticking your tongues out at each other—very mature.

"You, desserts, Bucky, with me, Steve, I'm sorry." With that, Buck and Mom are gone to do late shopping, leaving you and Steve alone in the kitchen.

It's quiet for a minute before Steve finally turns to you with a wide smile. "Just tell me what to do, Scout. You're in charge."

Ah, so you're leading now.

Grabbing the recipe book, you quickly flip through the pages until you find the right one. With a smile, you shove the book into his large hands. Steve doesn't even seem fazed as he keeps his eyes on yours.

"Chocolate pie, it's foolproof."

Steve cocks his head to the side, "Foolproof? Ouch, Scout."

"Don't pretend to be offended. I've heard you and Bucky call each other much worse."

Steve steps closer to you, “I don’t know you seem to have a bit of meanness in you know, I saw you give him the middle finger.” Steve tsk his lips and you wince, of course he saw that…

Not backing away from a challenge, you get even closer—so close you can smell the coffee off his breath. “Well Steve; you haven't seen me in a long time. I guess it only makes sense that I changed."

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as he looks over the recipe but keeping your little game going, "Don’t worry I plan on figuring that out while I'm here."

“Figuring out what?" you say crossing your arms and popping out your hip, Steve's eyes move to you as they roam slowly over your body, then he smirks.

"If you're still as sweet as I remember..." The way it just rolls off his tongue is so Sinful. Sure, he's still sweet, but now he's seemed to learn how to flirt. And with how your cheeks heat up from his words, you might be in trouble for falling even more for him.

Instead of quipping back, you just turn away and start gathering the ingredients you need. Trying desperately to ignore the budding tension. Baking in a kitchen with a handsome man can create its own kind of testion. But baking alone in a kitchen with an attractive man you once shared a first kiss with, now that tension could be cut with a knife.

Time passes as you two continue to silently bake, you wish the teasing had not ended so abruptly because now you are coming up with all the best comebacks, figures…

Turning your head over your shoulder, you watch Steve cut up the chocolate bricks in fine flakes. His large hands are coated in chocolate, and watching his muscles tense and move with the quick movements of the knife is mouthwatering…

Steve turns to look at you and gives you a soft smile. Quickly, you move your eyes to the cookie mix you're putting together, trying to seem like you are totally not staring at him, imagining how sweet his chocolate-coated fingers would be in your mouth. Rolling your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try to ground yourself in reality for a moment; you're in your parent's kitchen with your brother's best friend; this is not the time to be thinking horny thoughts.

While lost in your internal struggle, you feel a large hand placed on your hip; The hand is gripping tightly making warmth instantly shooting tingles down your spine. Looking up, you see Steve reaching for a bowl that is very conveniently placed in the cabinet above you. His cologne invades your senses, and you can't be too mad about it. Also, the subtle way he's pushing and leaning on you is making his crotch rub against your ass, either he knows exactly what he's doing or doesn't care to give you any personal space. You imagine it's the latter.

Once he's retrieved the bowl his breath is fanning against your ear, and his velvet voice numbs your mind to mush: " Sorry, Scout. I needed to grab a bowl." Oh, he's toying with you.

Finding your grip on reality, you take your bowl of cookies and push yourself out of Steve's sexy radiance. "Next time, ask, huh?"

You move over to the mixer and start mixing up the dough. You hear Steve clear his throat over the mixture. Looking over your shoulder again, you see his broad frame diligently mixing the filling over the stove. You hate how much you enjoy looking at him and his cute butt…

"Are you worried I'm messing up the mixing?" he calls over his shoulder. You quickly turn around and add the chocolate chips to the fluffy dough.

"Like I said... foolproof, I'm not worried." You say, trying to sound confident.

"So there's another reason why you're staring at me this whole time?" Does he have eyes in the back of his head!?

"I wasn't-"

"Don't even try it," Steve warns as he finally pours the chocolate mix into the pie crust and puts it in the oven to bake. Finally, he turns to face you, Crossing his massive arms in front of him. "I've felt your eyes on me this whole time."

Shit... Returning to your mixer, you do your old faithful tactic when you don’t want to answer a question, “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

You hear a groan thinking you have won but then there's a small sigh, "I know you're mad at me..."

That makes you pause. Mad at him? Were you mad at him? Part of you was for awhile but when you really think about it now you're more confused than anything. You take a deep breath and finally say the one thing you had thought about most after that kiss.

"You don't just kiss someone and then run away you know."

You finally turn and see that you have Steves full attention, he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I know." he finally gets out.

"Then why did you-"

"I kissed you at the wrong time..." That throws you for a loop. Steve's blush makes the tips of his ears bright red as he continues." You were... lonely and sad..."

It's your turn to interrupt, "Steve Rogers, did you pity kiss me?"

Steve's eyes widen as he quickly reaches for you but holds off, "No! No, it was a real kiss... for me, it was a real kiss."

"What do you mean? That kiss felt real to me, I mean, it was my first kiss..."

You feel yourself wanting to put up your guard but before you can you feel Steve's hands gently sliding up and down your arms before moving to your shoulders carefully brushing away your hair, "I want it to be better. To be right.” Steve's blue eyes look so softly down at you and you feel ensnared all over again. You lean in, and it feels all so familiar. When his hand comes to your cheek and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, “When I kiss you again, you will know what I mean..."

God, you want him to kiss you again,

”When?” You question.

Steve leans in, his breath fanning over your lips, “How else will I know if you taste as sweet as you did that night..”

You feel like you're melting as you close your eyes, the memories of his tongue tasting like peppermint making you crave it now. You rise to your tiptoes as Steve's arms curl around you, but before you can do anything, the oven's timer is going off.

Both of you jump before frantically looking for the oven mitts, running into each other as you reach for the oven. Finally, you two get the stove open and pull the pan out at the same time. It's so frantic and excessive you both can't help but laugh as you hold the pie.

"What are you two doing?" The sudden voice of bucky practically scares the crap out of you.

Steve looks at his friend then just cocks his head, “Baking, obviously.”

Bucky, ever clueless, just shakes his head as he puts bags of groceries away, you can not believe you almost kissed him again! And almost got caught. You take the pie and place it down to get cooled off. As you turn you run into your mother who is looking at you confused, you think for a moment she's trying to read your mind but then she places her cold hands to your cheeks.

“Steve, what did you do to my girl? She looks flushed?”

Steve just chuckles as he helps with the groceries, “I think she was standing too close to the oven, making her get hot.”

You give him an unamused look, he knows what made you hat and it wasn't a damn oven.

Hours later, long after you and Steve had finished the desserts, after sitting with your Mom and watching the same Christmas movies you did every year (though this year you might have been distracted…) and going to bed, you find that you're still tossing and turning thinking about Steve; what does he mean when he kisses you again… is he going to? You almost did, but then your family walked in… Will he have the chance? And what does he mean you taste sweet!

2am, and you're still thinking about him; years later, he can still rile you up and keep you second-guessing. Just is not fair, damn hot people…

Not seeing any end to your torment, you decide it's time for the perfect late-night medicine: a sweet treat. Making your way down to the kitchen as quietly as possible, you find the Christmas-themed Tupperware stashing the cookies and take one. The sweetest is only a temporary relief to your racing mind, however. Further trying to distract yourself, you open the fridge, checking the pie, making sure it's still intact, and it is.

When you close the fridge, you lazily look around the dimly lit room till you see Steve in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and no shirt. Seriously, universe…

"Looks like Bucky is right; you are the pie thief."

"I was just checking on it, not eating it."

Steve steps into the kitchen, takes a seat at the table, and gets himself a cookie as well. You decide to join in, your minds already filled with him. What's the harm?

"Couldn't sleep?"

"I thought I heard a pie theft." he taunts, making you chuckle, but it dies off quickly, and that same tension starts piling up again.

"I was up thinking about you," Steve suddenly admits, "Thinking back on that night…"

"The night you ran off with my first kiss?" You say it more bitterly than you meant it, but Steve doesn't seem to flinch.

"I had thought of kissing you a long time before then," he confesses, warming your cheeks.

"Why didn't you?"

Steve doesn't look at you while he shrugs his mind on the past, "One, there's an unspoken rule about best friends, sisters, and… I didn't feel good enough, scrawny punk kissing a beautiful, kind girl like you. Thought you would have been modified. Then at the dance when we danced together… you called me perfect. Girls would have never thought to say that, but you did, and I just couldn't help it. When I kissed you, I knew it was wrong, and then I ran, which was even more messed up."

Steve ends his confession by turning to you with a smile, "I screwed it up,"

You two sit silently, looking out the window into the dark, snowing night, "If you messed it up, why come back?"

"I was hoping for a second chance, but… when I saw how mad you were and when we interrupted it… it kinda brought me back to reality, shook me and my plan up…"

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, "Your plan?"

You see, Steve blushes, "Charm you, and I hope I get to do it right this time…"

Your laugh was involuntary. You couldn't believe that after all this time, he wanted a do-over. Steve Rogers, you are the biggest dork, and you love it. He looked embarrassed at you, laughing at his confession, but then you stood from your chair and reached down towards him. "Well? How are you going to charm me sitting down? This is your last chance, Steve. Don't blow it."

Steve grabs your hand, standing to his towering height, "What's the first step in the plan, Steve? I'll let you lead."

"First…" Steve steps closer, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands to hide purchase on your fuzzy pajama bottom hips. "We sway just like that night."

The two of you start to sway in that same slow dance, and though there is no music, you both know which one is playing in your mind as you move in perfect rhythm. Your hands move from his soft hair to slide down to his chest, where you feel his heart racing through his bare chest. He watches you intently before carefully bringing you to press against his warm body. You can no longer tuck your head into his neck, so you lean into his chest. Steve pauses, and you feel him bring his hand to your cheek, having you look up at him.

"Second, I will tell you how I think you're the prettiest, funniest, kindest girl I've ever met and how, for years, I have thought of you."

You bite your lip as you look into his blue eyes, which reflect the colors of the Christmas lights. "When's the part where you kiss me?" you say, a tad breathless.

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, looking at their flushed color, "That's step three after I ask…"

"Steve, kiss me before I lose my mind and pummel you."

That was the exact invitation Steve was waiting for because the next thing you know, he's leaning down and kissing your lips slowly. His hands cupped your cheeks before sliding back down to your waist, his mouth carefully guiding you. It's just as sweet and warm as the first time, but now, with how he moves his lips gently with yours, you can tell he's practiced. Rising your toes, you wrap your hands around his neck and swipe your tongue against his lips, begging for them to part. Once they do, you slip your tongue to taste his. A slight grunt leaves his throat as his hands tighten -Yeah, you learned some things last time.

Steve slides his hands down your body to find purchase on your ass, giving a squeeze and forcing a moan from you in the process before he lifts you up and places you on the contour. Breaking the kiss, he looks at your red face, catching your breath, "taste sweet.." he mumbles before tilting your head up to leave open-mouth kisses on your neck.

The feeling of his burning tongue swiping at your sensitive skin has you tightening your thighs to try to ease your aching clit that's begging to feel him closer. As he's licking and marking your skin with reckless abandonment, your hands are pawing and tugging at his soft hair. Holding on to dear life, his head goes lower and lower, passing your collarbone. This must be that real kiss he talked about before.

Your wandering hands meet the prominent bulge pressed against your leg; softly touching the hardness makes Steve pause as he softly moans into your neck.

"Steve.." His lips kiss your neck slowly as he spreads your thighs, moving in between them.

"Yes, baby… what do you want? Anything you want..." he says into your skin, making you shiver as his lips caress your sweet spot.

You feel his bulge finally press against your covered cunt, and you can't help but gasp, "I want to feel you…" you finally tremble out as you move your hips slowly over him, grinding on his cock.

Steve watches you in awe for a moment before he's repositioning himself and rocking his hips so the nip nudges your clothed clit over and over. Part of you think this might be a delicious dream; there is no way you're actually dry-humping with Steve on your kitchen table in your parent's house, is there? But when his fat tip teases your clit again, making your toes curl, you know this is a dream, this is real, and you don't care. You need him now.

You're about to shimmy out of your bottoms and pull Steves down as well, but the sound creaking of the stairs has you both snapping back to reality. The reality is your hands are about to pull down your pants while Steve has a huge tending boner, and you're on the kitchen table; if caught, there is no explaining that one. So quickly, you're hopping off the table and eagerly pulling Steve to hide in the kitchen's pantry with you. Safely hidden, you and Steve peer through the panty's louvered door to see who is ruining your late-night treat.

Tiptoeing through the kitchen, you see your father making his way to grab a fork and then going to the fridge. Unbelievable. You owe Bucky an apology.

"That sneaky little—" Before you can finish whispering, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you, his length pushing against you. Turning around carefully, you face him. Only the light streaming in illuminates his face, and you can just see that affection filling his eyes.

Steve gently kisses your lips again, finding them way too easy in the dim dark. His hands curl around your waist, and his head rests in the crook of your neck. His warm breath makes you melt all too quickly.

"Scout, I've liked you for so long…" he says into your neck.

Cuddling him closer, you're about to confess your feelings, those feelings that you had from the moment you met him. Then, the pantry door opens, and you meet your father's shocked expression. His daughter is hiding in the pantry with tousled hair, and her brother's best friend, who is shirtless, is embracing each other. Not a great look…

Eyes going wide as you push yourself away from Steve, trying to fix your hair. Steve clears his throat awkwardly, turning his back towards your father, trying in vain to hide his prevalent bulge. Starting to fumble out an excuse, you're stuttering and panicking for an explanation, but your father is slowly shutting the door before you can even get out a syllable.

You stare at the Shut door in shock. "He's so going to blab to my mother," you groan.

Back in the darkness, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you. "Would that be so bad? She has been hinting about us getting together."

"Bucky is going to kick your ass."

Steve kisses your neck again, quickly learning where to tease you with his soft lips. "That's fine if you agree. Come out with me for New Year's." Turning, you press your cheek to his chest, cuddling closer.

"Can we go dancing?

Steve Chuckles as he kisses your head and holds you tighter, says, "We can do whatever you want. I want to make up for lost time."

"Better late than never."

214 notes · View notes

lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years ago

Text

IF YOU’RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW)- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: Uni! Nerd! Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: you’re the new girl at school, and the more steve rogers sees you, the more his crush grows. after a few weeks of texting, a date is set. but he doesn't hook up on the first date, because that's not being a gentleman. right?

Warnings: SMUT, pure filth, praise kink, slight degradation, daddy kink, spanking, cum play, dry humping, dirty talk, manhandling, petnames, swearing, biting/ marking, size kink, but lots of fluff :))

“maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes, im not playing with you baby- i think that you should give it a go. she said, maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes... i wanna see and stop thinking if youre too shy, then let me know”- if youre too shy (let me know), the 1975

“She's so beautiful Buck. You’ll just love her.” Steve insisted, baby blues all wide and excited, cheeks tinted pink as he ran his hands through his blonde locks, tugging on the strands a bit harder than he’d normally- the butterflies plaguing his muscles.

He had never felt so in love, and he hadn't even talked to you in person yet. It was a sickness, the love drunk that had occurred, no amount of Advil or water the cure to the hangover.

Bucky was sick of him. He was sure of it.

He had blabbed about you for weeks now, seeming to go in a daze as he’d ramble on. Mhmm. Well, just talk to her after class Steve!

He’d just shake his head. He couldn't just do that! How could he? You were so alluring, a siren calling him out from sea. Steve just couldn't… the courage he had always had seeming to come to a halt. It was abrupt, a deer in headlights as he watched you walk into the lecture hall.

The new girl. Full of spunk and energy, a bright smile on your face as you looked around the room, meeting his eye. He offered you a small smile, a little wave before you found your place near the front.

You matched his energy well. So well, he was scared you weren't even real. Her name is Y/N. You want her number or something? His friend Natasha had asked him earlier that month, nudging his shoulder to gather his attention again. Sorry. Yes, please. He was too busy daydreaming about you again, gaze drifting off to the endless rows of books in the old library.

Steve had been anxious to send the text, his endless pacing back and forth enough to drive Bucky straight up the wall. He had never seen the man so nervous. Especially over a girl.

Should I do it? What do I say? Is this weird? Shut the fuck up already and send something Rogers you're driving me insane. He had replied, smacking a pillow over his head to tune Steve out. He gathered his wits about him, taking a deep breath before he hit send.

hey, it’s steve, from tuesdays class. not sure if you remember me, but i’m the blonde who waved lol. i got your number from a friend, hope thats okay:)

There. He had done it! Now was the waiting. But it didn’t last long, as his phone buzzed in his pocket only a few minutes later.

hey you! yes yes, i remember. i’m Y/N <3

I know, he wanted to say. Instead, he acted dumb. Dumb and sweet was the way to your heart he found out later, all the sweet messages and daily photos of each other's day blossomed into something more than just classmates.

But he still hadn't talked to you in person yet. And he knew you were too shy to say anything first- so it was just a waiting game. Finally, all these days later- he had asked you on a date.

Nothing major. Nothing fancy. Just coffee, and a walk around the villa. Simple and fun, Bucky had reassured, thankful his best friend had finally made the move. He was blind if he thought you weren't into him. Blind and stupid.

Bucky walked with him now, bundling his jacket tighter around himself as the slight breeze ruffled his hair. It was a cool evening, but not freezing- a perfect happy medium for the season.

“I’m sure she is. Since you never seem to shut up about her.” Bucky teased, resulting in a smack across the arm from Steve.

“I’m serious man. I’m just so anxious about this. What if she actually like.. hates me or something?”

“Impossible. And if anything goes wrong, I’m just three blocks away.” Bucky shrugged, as Steve’s phone buzzed.

five mins away :)

“She’s almost here.” he sighed, starting to fidget with his rings as Bucky dropped him off at the cafe's doors. He had never felt this tense before a date, which he knew meant he really, really liked you. The countless times he had stalked your social media and hours of sleep he lost due to waiting to hear back from you had proved that.

So what could possibly go wrong?

“Well get a table, talk about the weather- and it’ll be all good from there.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And so I told him no, because like what? That's not just something you do at a gas station?” you laughed, making Steve nearly choke on his coffee. You were so happy to be sitting with the man you had been swooning over for weeks now, heart fluttering the second the two of you locked eyes in the lecture hall.

He was dreamy, gush-worthy standards. And now here he was, so many days later- sitting in front of you with a cup of coffee in hand. You had examined his choice of drink very carefully, knowing that could reflect on many things. Just as many other little things did, like if he slept with socks on or if he only picked the m&ms out of trail mix.

Steve had a safe, solid choice- two creams and one sugar. Dark roast. You knew he was a good one.

“I’m sure. Jesus people are crazy.” he snorted, swirling the little wooden stir stick around in his coffee as he admired you. You felt yourself start to fold in on itself the longer he gazed at you, stare so deep and meaningful you were scared you'd start giggling and kicking your feet right there.

You wouldn't be surprised if you did. Steve had that effect on you, always making you swoon from across the class, each text he sent making you smile. He had a heart next to his contact name, for god's sake. But there was no way in hell you'd tell him that. At least not on the first date.

You weren't even sure if he liked you back- as sometimes flirting flew straight over your head. You were funny like that sometimes. But tonight had seemed to have gone well, at least in your mind. The two of you had been talking for hours, getting little pastries and new drinks to try throughout the evening. It was dark out now, the moon high in the sky, shining down on the little vintage cafe with its dozens of tealights and oil lamps.

You sipped your drink, still hot on the tongue as you met his stare. He smiled. That goddamn, cheeky smile that kept you up at night. One that screamed danger, and mischief and everything you wanted. A thrill, an adventure. Something fun- something your small town refused to offer.

“Whatta thinking about?” he asked, breaking the easy silence that lingered over the pair of you like a veil. Like you were in your own little bubble, where no one could touch you.

“Just you. And how you're different.” His eyebrow quirked up. “How so?”

“ Well you haven't asked me to take off my clothes. Or made any sexual comments. Or said ‘maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes’, so I like you.” you said, taking another sip of coffee to let those words digest.

He just smiled, shaking his head slowly. “Well of course not. I mean, not that you aren't beautiful and so fucking hot and I mean-”

You laughed.

“Okay, you know what I’m getting at. But what I’m trying to say is that I’m a gentleman. And I would never ask that of you if you didn’t want it.” A sly grin tugged at your lips, legs crossing under the table as you squeezed your thighs together.

“What if I want it?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I don’t normally do this on the first date ya know.” Steve murmured against your neck, breath hot as he kissed down your neck, grip tightening around your thighs as he hosted you up against the wall.

It had been a few hours later, some odd hour in the night after the coffee and the little walk down the side streets, popping into old bookstores and antique stores where he watched you marvel over little things like signed paperbacks and old purses his great grandma probably had. He was infatuated with you.

Somehow his hand had ended up intertwined with yours, your arm bumping his as he walked you back to your place. Do you… maybe wanna come inside? You had asked, little doe eyes wide, voice as soft as silk. How could he say no? He never said no to you.

Now here he was, dry humping you in your entranceway, barely two steps in the door before your lips had met his. You were drawn to him like a magnet, falling under his spell as your neck rolled back against the plaster, letting him have more access.

“No? Wanting to keep up your gentlemanly acts? Promise I won't tell.” you teased, breath hitching as he traced your collarbone with his nose, finally sinking his teeth into the soft skin. Your hips rolled against his lower abs, desperate for any friction you could get.

“Pinky promise?” he breathed, causing a moan to escape your parted lips as he squeezed your skin, licking the teeth marks as he dipped his mouth even lower.

“P-pinky.” you stuttered. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly, movements blurring as if he was switching the lenses on your eyesight. Hands were on your ass, in his hair, tugging on those beautiful long strands to then wrap around his neck.

Teeth clashed with tongue as he devoured you whole, and you felt as if you were on a carnival ride as he spun you over to your bedroom. You prayed he didn’t notice the piles of old, dog-eared books that were piled against the wall so high they were on the verge of toppling over, or your cluttered nightstand with so many candles and jewelry it had no other purpose. Steve didn’t seem to mind the mess, solely focused on how your breath sounded when it was uneven and when you were flustered, the giggles that emerged when he tossed you down on the sheets like a sack of potatoes.

You liked being manhandled by him. You liked how he had wasted no time throwing you up against the wall, taking charge in such a respectful, yet sexy manner. This had only happened in your late-night thoughts, little flirty texts that you had sent when you got the courage past eleven pm nothing compared to this. You had always wondered what he would be like in bed, ever since you stepped foot in that classroom. It didn’t disappoint in the slightest.

“God you're so- so fucking hot. You know how many times I've thought of this? Hearing your little noises when I make you feel good?” You whined. He groaned, tugging off your pants.

“Yeah. Yeah, fuck like that baby. You’re such a good girl for me aren't you?”

There it was. That was the money shot. Something in your demeanor shifted, eyes wide as you nodded frantically. Yes. Yes, you were and he knew it. “Please Steve just-”

“Just what angel face? Hmm? Fuck you?” he antagonized you, as if he was talking to a mere child.

“Please. Please fuck.” The words had barely left your lips before he grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you were presented to him, ass in the air, face deep in the sheets. Your shirt had yet to come off, but you had a feeling it was going to meet your bottoms on the hardwood, the two of you too desperate to both with the flimsy article of clothing.

“God you're so easy to manhandle. You like that huh? Being tossed around like a slut?”

“Mhmmm god yes..” you moaned, letting out a quick yelp as he smacked your ass lightly, your hands curling into tight little fists as you gripped the blankets. You could feel the breath get trapped in your lungs as he kissed the skin he had just slightly marked, lips like a cooling serum to the heat in your belly.

“Breathe angel. Just breathe for me yea? You tell me when it’s too much.”

“What, don’t wanna get too freaky on the first date?” you chriped out, making him laugh.

“Something like that.”

“I like this, ya know. I like you. And I don’t feel shy around you, like I have with other people. You’re good to me, Steve.”

He smiled softly, chest blooming with warmth at your reassuring words. He was so happy. All he wanted was for you to feel comfortable around him, to feel wanted. Because he wanted you. Oh, gods did he ever want you.

“Good.” was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. “Fuck. Fuck fuck you feel so fucking good.” was all he could moan, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed around him, adjusting to his size.

He was big. Like extremely big. All you could do was whimper, praying to every god that was out there that you could take him.

“S’big Stevie. M’all full.” you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words. “Yea baby? I’m just so much bigger than you- aren't I? Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use.”

He brushed your g-spot as his hips began to snap, cock drilling into you so fast you swore you saw stars. All you could do was hold onto the bed, allowing your body to fall limp, going slack as he used you.

“You're so good. Such a good, good princess.” he praised, large hand pressed down slightly on your back as you arched, moans muffling into the sheets. You prayed your neighbors weren't home, or else you knew you'd get the dirty looks and silent treatment tomorrow.

Totally worth it, you thought with a dazed-out smile, listening to the sounds of the bed drilling against the wall, springs squeaking in time with his groans, the squelching wet noises of your juices coating his cock.

“M’not gonna last.” you whimpered softly. “S’okay baby. Be a good girl and cum f’me okay poppet?”

You nodded, rumpled sheets bunching tighter between your closed fists as you squeezed him so tight it was suffocating, your clit pulsing a steady rhythm as you came with a cry.

“Atta girl. Milking me dry baby, you really needed that didn’t you?”

“Y-yea Daddy..”

Heat rose to your cheeks. The name had rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, the filter that normally was placed over your words now gone in your dazed-out state. What if you fucked up? That wasn't supposed to come out.

“F-fuck. Daddy huh? I should've known you’d like that shit. Not as much as me though baby.” he growled, grabbing your hips harshly, his thrusts becoming harder, quicker, more erratic.

“Daddy’s making you feel so good hm?”

“So good Daddy. Want you to fuck me alll the timee.” you giggled softly, whining as you felt him slip out of your abused hole.

“Wha-”

“Shhh poppet. I didn’t bring any condoms with me and we aren't risking it on the first date.” he shushed you, spilling his seed onto your lower back, stilling your wiggling movements as you begged.

You felt the warm, white liquid ooze against your skin, dribbling down your ass as you wiggled it. The pad of Steve's fingers made you jump, the soft, gentle touch adding even more to the post-orgasm haze.

“I-I have some in my drawer for next time.” He trailed his fingers against the delicate skin, smearing the cum down your thighs, giving you a quick little smack.

“Good to know sweetheart.” he smiled, watching as you slowly turned to face him, doe eyes wide, lips parted slightly.

“So when’s the next date?”

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downbadf0rficppl · 11 months ago

Text

happy birthday

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve's deep in a lie. One that he won't be able to recover from. What happens when he finds out you know the truth.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, and fluff of course. Brat Tamer!Steve, Oral (M Receiving),

AN: Based on a headcanon I read at some point where Bucky threatens to reveal when Steve's real birthday is - I don't think I ever laughed harder! Hope you guys all enjoy! LYYYYYYYYY

"Hey, Cap," You called to him, walking over as he filed out of the briefing room. He looked up at you and smiled - lifting his hand up to wave. He looked at you suspiciously - your hands were hidden behind your back, clearly holding something.

"Whatcha got for me?" He smirked, "Hopefully not more files?" He added with a slight groan.

"Not at all. Just a little something," You showed him the box, "for your birthday."

Steve chuckled awkwardly, "Thanks sweetheart, but it's not my birthday for a while yet? It's December 12th?"

You smirked evilly, "Ahh but Captain, I discovered something quite interesting the other day. There was a collection of old SSR files found in an old crate and I had the pleasure of having to catalogue it. Most of it was boring but there was a file that caught my eye," Steve's eyes widened, but you continued, "The file of one 'Steven Grant Rogers'. And it surprised me to discover that the great Captain America is a-"

You were cut off by Steve slamming his hand down over your mouth. He looked around wildly, hoping that no one heard, before dragging you outside.

"Where did you find that file?"

"So it's true! Ha!"

"I'm not messing around, sweetheart. Who else knows?"

"No one. For now."

Steve stalked up to you, finger pointed at your chest, "You best keep your mouth shut, sweetheart."

"Or what, Captain, what are you gonna do?" You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Fuck around and find out."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Captain."

"Shut your mouth," He growled, his pupils blown with lust.

"Make me."

You barely made it back to his room before he slotted his lips over yours, hands grasping your face gently. You gasped into his mouth, his nose bumping yours as he pushed you through the door of his apartment.

"Jump," he mumbled against your mouth and you obliged. His hands gripped your thighs as they wrapped around his waist and he nudged the door shut with his toe. All without ever breaking the contact between your lips.

He carried you into the bedroom and dropped you in the center of his bed. He looked down at you like a lion looks at a gazelle, lust-blown eyes raking over your body.

"Just here to stare, Captain? All bark, no bite." It probably wasn't a good idea to provoke the beast, but you were having slightly too much fun watching Captain 'I-never-have-a-hair-out-of-place' Rogers lose his temper.

Steve shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're such a fucking brat," he muttered, a hand dropping to his belt. Your eyes followed his hand, raking over his unfortunately-still-clothed body. "You know what brats like you need? You need to be taught a lesson."

You almost let out a whimper, your cunt pulsing with need. Steve pulled off his shirt and his belt and dropped them on the floor unceremoniously. He climbed over you and crawled over you, his large body pinning you to the mattress.

He laid hands on the top button of your shirt before looking up at you for consent. "Please, Steve."

"See, that wasn't so hard." He began unbuttoning your shirt, laying gentle kisses in his wake. Once it was unbuttoned, he pushed it down your arms and tossed it onto the floor. He unbuttoned your trousers in the same way before pulling them off your legs and tossing them by your shirt.

His eyes raked over your semi-naked form, slowly appreciating every curve and dimple on your body. You smiled shyly - the weight of his gaze was heavy, heavy with adoration.

He flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your hips against his crotch. You could feel the bulge straining in his pants and you let out a moan as it brushed against your sensitive clit.

"Someone's sensitive," Steve said, the smirk evident in his voice.

"Someone's taking a long time to fuck me. Maybe I'll find some other agent to finish the jo-"

Slap. You jolted as Steve laid a hard slap against your ass. Your surprise melted into arousal and you let out another moan. You pushed back against him, letting him know you wanted more.

"You're mine," Steve growled, continuing to slap your ass, alternating between cheeks and pressures, "Mine to tame, mine to fuck. Get it, only mine."

You moaned in response - an enthusiastic yes.

"God, I can smell how wet you are, sweetheart. You like it when I slap you, huh? You like it when I get rough?" You nodded your head, pushing back into Steve again. You hear him chuckle and move away. You whine at the loss of touch, "Cockdrunk already, pretty baby? I haven't even touched you yet."

You heard Steve's zipper and the sound of jeans landing on the floor. You turned to look at him and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Impressed, baby?" Even through his boxers, Steve's bulge was impressive. Steve was a well-endowed man and he knew it. "Now come over here and show me how much you want this cock."

You climbed off the bed and sank to the floor in front of him. Your knees hit the solid cold floor and you were now at eye level with his cock. Steve's eyes went wide - clearly, he hadn't been expecting you to do that.

"May I, Captain?" You said, your fingers playing on the waistband of his boxers.

"Fuck yeah, sweetheart." Steve threw his head back as you pushed his boxers down. He was big. Bigger than you’ve had before. Your mouth watered at his size and you leaned forward to give the tip of his cock a little kiss.

Smirking at the way Steve groaned as his cock twitched, you wrapped your hand around his girth and started pumping. Steve threw his head back, his hands finding your hair and making a makeshift ponytail.

Your tongue swiped over the tip of his cock, collecting the pre-cum on your tongue. You took his tip in your mouth, hands still languidly stroking the base of his cock. Your left hand traveled down to play with his balls, gently massaging them. It was music to your ears the way he choked out your name from your actions.

You took him further down your throat, pulling away when you started to gag. You tried again, trying to go further.

"Breathe through your nose sweetheart, that's it," Steve said as you took further down your throat. Your tongue ran over the large vein on the underside of his cock, massaging it as Steve threw his head back in ecstasy. "Fuck, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you if you don't slow down."

You smiled, as you pulled away from his cock. "Don’t be afraid to do what you want, Cap." You hummed, "I can handle it."

Steve wrapped your hair around his fist, before guiding your face back down to suck on his cock. He pushed your head all the way down so that your nose was brushing against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock. You gagged around his length and the pressure made Steve let out a loud groan.

"Fuck, just like that, baby, yes," pressure began to build up in his stomach, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "Keep going baby, don't stop."

Your hand moved back up to his balls, rolling them between your fingers as you kept sucking. The action made his hips stutter, the groan of your name practically coming out as a growl. "I’m not going to last," he choked out, pulling you off his cock and up to standing again.

Your knees felt stiff after so much time on the cold, hardwood floor, that you winced at the sudden movement. Steve caught it.

"Next time, you're using a pillow." You smiled at the thought of a nest time.

He pushed you back on the bed, his mouth latching back onto yours as he kneeled in front of you.

"Can I?" He looked up at you, his beautiful blue eyes shining brightly. His fingers traced the waistline of your underwear, fingers hooking the sides to pull them down,

You frantically nodded yes, and they were gone a second later, your bra following soon after. Steve lifted you up and threw you onto the middle of the bed, his eyes ravenously traveling to your sopping wet cunt. You moaned at the show of strength.

"You like that? Being manhandled like a slut?" You moaned in affirmation.

You gasped at the feeling of Steve's tongue on your pussy. He licked a long, flat stripe up to your clit, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled him up.

"As much as I would love for you to eat me out. I need your cock. In me. Right now."

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart."

You saw him grab a silver foil packet from his nightstand and he ripped it open with his teeth. You watched as Steve rolled the condom down his cock, the cock that was just in your mouth.

"See something you like?" Steve smirked as he caught you staring.

You blushed, "I see a lot that I like," you replied honestly.

Steve's face broke into a huge childish grin and he pulled you closer to him, "Good." That was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. He moaned loudly, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed him.

You gasped, trying to adjust to his size, "S'big, Stevie. 'S so big hmmm, 'm all - ah - full." you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words.

"Yeah, sweetheart? God, you're so tight. Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use."

Tears slipped down your face as you tried to adjust to the stretch. He was so big you could feel him everywhere, with every shift of your body, with every breath you took. Steve took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears, "Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe, yeah?" You nodded, taking a shuddery breath. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, "You tell me if it gets too much."

"I need you to move," you whispered. Steve slowly, pulled out and slowly pushed back in. And then again. And then again. Each time he got closer to bottoming out inside of you and you moaned as he pushed further and further.

Eventually, he picked up the pace, falling into a steady rhythm. A steady stream of moans left your lips. He brushed past your G-spot and you swore you saw stars. You were begging for more.

His hips began to snap into you, cock drilling into you so fast that you had fallen silent, mouth stuck in an 'O' shape. The praises falling from Steve's lips were lost on you as the pressure built up in your stomach.

"Steve, 'm not gonna last, Steve, please, 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna - oh my GOD, 'M GONNA CUM, AHHH-" You fell apart all over Steve's cock as he kept up this brutal pace.

Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud moan of your name before collapsing beside you. You smiled up at him through your post-orgasmic haze, turning to nestle into his arms. He chuckled, laying a light kiss on your forehead, "I have to go take care of this, give me a second."

He laughed as you shook your head, desperately clinging to him tighter. He unraveled himself from you and quickly disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom.

Your eyes drifted shut as you waited for him, only to be forced open by something cool touching your inner thigh. You snapped your legs shut, only to find that Steve was holding a wet towel. "Just cleaning you up, sweetheart."

As soon as he was done, Steve pulled one of his t-shirts over your body and bundled you into his arms. At your disapproving grunt, he chuckled.

"Need to put some food in my best girl." He said, placing another kiss on your forehead.

"And then snuggles?" You asked, hopefully.

Steve smiled, "Yeah, sweetheart, then snuggles." He put you down on the cold island in the middle of the kitchen of his apartment and turned around to grab some fruit from the fridge.

The doorbell rang. Steve looked at the door and then the clock on the wall. He clearly wasn't expecting anyone. Both of you stood unmoving - you didn't know exactly what the nature of your relationship was. If it was someone you worked with - which of course it would be - you didn't want to be forced to go public.

Whoever it was was insistent. They banged on the door. "Hey, Punk, open the door." Steve let out a sigh of relief - it was Bucky, his best childhood friend. And also one of the best secret keepers in the compound.

Steve opened the door as you reached over to grab a strawberry. "What do you want, Jerk?" The door opened to Bucky mischievously smiling at Steve. Clearly, the fact that Steve was half-naked didn't bother him.

"Did you forget what today is?"

Steve's face blanched again.

"Happy Birthday, Punk!" Steve tackled a smirking Bucky to the ground. The sight made you burst into laughter, a strawberry held up to your mouth.

The sound made Steve look over at you. The sight of you sitting on his counter in his t-shirt, eating his strawberries made his heart jump. If this was how he got to spend the rest of his birthdays, he'd be a happy man indeed. Even if he had to put up with all your teasing.

fin.

buy me a coffee

582 notes · View notes

krirebr · 1 year ago

Text

More Than This 3

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

Word Count: ~5.8k

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

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, multiple references to vomit (but nothing graphic, I don't think), attempted sex that makes everyone sad - dubcon on both sides, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Alright friends, here we go! Now we're really in it.

A gigantic thank you, as always, to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and talking it all through with me, especially the last section, which I've been anxious about since I originally conceived of it ages ago. You're the best, Chelsea!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You heard Ransom get up in the early hours of the morning and stumble into the bathroom to retch. You were glad he didn’t choke on his vomit, you guessed. You were still on the couch with the TV turned down low. You wondered if he’d come out and see what you were doing, but he just stumbled back to the bed when he was done.

You didn’t hear him again for several more hours. In that time, you mostly watched TV, dozed a little, fucked around on your phone. Time passed slowly, but it still passed. Soon, the sun was coming up. You were moving across the country today. Your new life was starting whether you wanted it or not.

A few hours later you heard the beginnings of movement in the bedroom. You called down to room service and ordered two carafes of coffee, along with a few different breakfast options, ranging from light to extremely greasy. You didn’t know what his hangovers were like, what they required. But you knew that an especially moody Ransom wouldn’t do you any good. So, a peace offering of a sort.

The food arrived before he’d shown his face. As you looked at the cart, you thought that while you were trying to start things as well as you could for your own good, it didn’t erase everything he’d done the day before, how he’d treated you. So you made no effort to be quiet as you laid out the food and got the coffee ready. You may have banged the metal covers together as noisily as you could.

“What the fuck?” Ransom grumbled as he came stumbling out of the bedroom in just his boxer briefs. “Why is there noise?”

“Coffee,” you said, handing him the mug you’d filled. “I didn’t know how you take it.”

He took a sip and just grunted at you and then turned around and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You busied yourself by getting your own coffee and munching on some toast. You still had no appetite but figured you should probably eat something.

A few minutes later, he came back out with a now empty mug. He stopped and stared at you. “Am I still drunk or are you still wearing your wedding dress?”

You tried not to let your embarrassment show. “I couldn’t get it off by myself, so…” you trailed off and shrugged.

He looked at you for another moment then nodded once. “Give me a minute,” he said, as he poured himself another cup. He drank it quickly, then briefly held his head in his hands. When he looked back up, he took a deep breath, then mumbled “OK.” He came up behind you and lightly touched your dress. “Is there a trick to it?” he asked as he ran a finger down the seam.

“It’s a long line of hook-and-eyes, you know?”

He hummed and then started at the top. As he worked, he grumbled to himself, which made you feel a little better about not being able to get it off. You’d never stop being surprised by how gentle his hands were. It seemed to be in complete opposition to every other part of him. When he was about halfway down, his knuckles lightly grazed the bare skin of your back and a shudder ran through your whole body. “Sorry,” he said, softly. You just shook your head and didn’t say anything.

When he was done, he quickly took a step back. You held your dress to you, trying to preserve your modesty, even though you knew how silly that was. You just weren’t ready for him to see you, although you doubted that that mattered. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He nodded again, then “You mind if I take the first shower?”

You shook your head and he disappeared into the ensuite.

About an hour and a half later, you sat with him in the back of a town car, on your way to the private airfield where one of his family’s planes awaited you. Neither of you said anything. Ransom was staring at something on his phone, while you put all your energy into trying not to have a panic attack. You had no idea what was waiting for you in Boston. You weren’t ready for this. You couldn’t do it.

As the car pulled up to the hangar, you were beyond relieved to see Steve already waiting there, Lola’s travel crate at his feet. The moment the car was parked and turned off, you lept out, not waiting for anyone to open the door for you. You bent down in front of Lola’s crate first and carefully stuck your fingers through the door. “Hi, baby, I missed you.” She kissed your fingers and then whined to be let out. “Not yet, honey,” you said softly. “You have to wait til we’re on the plane.”

You stood up and faced Steve, who was looking you over carefully. “How are you doing?” he asked seriously.

You shrugged and sighed. “Freaking out a little, I guess, but it’ll be fine.”

“And if it isn’t, you’ll call me,” he said, voice firm. “I don’t care where you are or what time it is, you call me. Ok?” You nodded. He opened his mouth to say more, but then the call of your name came from over your shoulder.

You turned to see Ransom standing between you and the jet. Your heart dropped. No, not yet. You needed more time. You needed to be able to actually say goodbye. You couldn’t– “I’ll be on the plane,” he said, voice still scratchy and tired, sunglasses firmly on, despite the overcast day. “Take your time.” He turned around and began walking up the stairs.

You just stared after him for a moment, surprised. When you turned back to Steve, his lips were curled in disgust. But then the expression quickly changed to something much sadder. “I should have done more,” he said, “gotten you out of here, sent you away or something. I can’t–”

“Steve.” you interrupted. “Please stop. It’s no use now.” You couldn’t listen to any more of this. It had always been inevitable; it’d always been what you were for. Imagining anything else was useless.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then he looked around and asked, “Are Dad and Lydia on their way?”

You tried to keep any hurt out of your expression when you said, “No, something important came up for Joseph and you know Mom has a hard time going anywhere by herself.” You ignored the cracks you heard in your own voice.

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion and upset. “I would have picked her up,” he said. “Hell, I’ll go get her right now.”

“I know,” you said sadly. “I told her that, but you know how she is.” You dropped your eyes, not able to look at the anger you knew you’d see on Steve’s face. You were angry too, you were, but mostly now you were just sad. And after thinking about it all night, you honestly weren’t sure how much anger she deserved. She’d been broken for a long time. It’d happened before you’d even known her, probably. It’d been unfair, maybe, to expect her to be strong for you now when she’d never been able to be that before.

Steve said your name and you looked up at him. “You don’t deserve this,” he said firmly. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really need you to understand it. None of this is what you deserve.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded and muttered, “OK.”

He sighed and shook his head, then pulled you into his arms. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much,” he said into your hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without having you just a few minutes away to annoy whenever I want.”

You huffed a laugh into his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too,” you said. “So much. Even when you’re being so annoying.” The tears were starting now, you weren’t able to hold them back. You pulled back and briefly got a good enough look at Steve’s face to see that his eyes were wet, too, before he knelt in front of Lola’s crate.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’m going to miss you too. You take good care of your mom for me.”

You couldn’t help the little sob that came out of you at that. Fuck. Steve had been stuck to your side since you were six years old. Through absolutely everything. He’d been the one person you could count on for as long as you could remember. And now you were being dragged away from him.

He stood up and pulled you into another hug. “You’re so strong,” he whispered right in your ear. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

When he pulled back, you knew it was time to go, but you didn’t know how to pull yourself away. This all felt so final.

“Let me know when you land,” he said. “And when you get to the house. And just–” he sighed. “Everything. I want to know everything, ok?”

You nodded and tried to brush the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, ok,” you said, knowing you’d send him the exact amount of information that would keep him from worrying too much. You picked up the dog crate. You locked eyes with him one last time. “I love you.”

His voice was thick when he responded, “I love you too. I’m going to sit right here until you’ve taken off, ok? I’ll be right here.”

“You’re a good brother,” you said, as you slowly took your first step backward, toward the jet.

“Yes. I am,” he said with a smile that was half cocky and half absolutely heartbreaking.

With one last deep breath and an “OK,” that was mostly to yourself, you forced yourself to turn around and make your way to the stairs up to the jet. Once you were halfway up, you looked over your shoulder. Steve was leaning against his car. He gave you an encouraging smile and a small wave. You nodded and took the last few steps to board the plane.

A flight attendant was standing right there to greet you. “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Drysdale,” she said and you couldn’t help the way your mouth dropped open in shock. Mrs. Drysdale. That’s who you were now. You tried to pull yourself together and let her show you into the main cabin. It was mostly open, with a few plush seats and tables scattered around. Ransom was already in one, fully reclined with a sleep mask pulled over his eyes. He made no indication that he was awake, so you asked the attendant for a mask for yourself and a glass of water. As she went to fulfill your request, you opened Lola’s little cage and picked her up when she came out. She was nervous, shaking with her little tail tucked between her legs. “It’ll be ok,” you said softly, the tears threatening to stream down again. You took a deep breath and settled the both of you into a seat as far from Ransom as you could get in the small private jet. You gave Lola gentle pets until she sat down on your lap. “We’ll just take a nap,” you said, “and it’ll be over before we know it.”

“What the fuck is that?”

You woke with a start and pulled off your sleep mask. “Huh?” You sat up to see Ransom and Lola locked in a staredown.

“What is that?”

“I told you that I had a dog,” you said, confused.

“That!” Ransom yelled, pointing at Lola, “is not a dog. That’s a long-haired rat!”

“Hey!” you yelled back, just as Lola started retching. “Oh, baby, no!” You knelt down next to her just as she puked right at Ransom’s feet.

“What the shit?!” he cried out, jumping back.

“She’s stressed, ok? It’s not like I can explain to her what a plane is or where we’re going!” You grabbed what was left of your water and the napkin the flight attendant had brought with the glass and tried to clean it up. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself.

“What are you doing?” He stood over you with his hands on his hips.

“I’m cleaning it up so you don’t freak out, ok? It’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Get up.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to do that. The crew probably has a steam cleaner or something. My dad uses this plane. I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He walked to the front of the cabin and knocked on the divider. When the attendant came, Ransom quietly told her, “The dog got sick. I assume you have something to clean it up.”

She nodded and quickly came out with a portable steam cleaner and made quick work of Lola’s mess.

“Thank you,” you told her.

“No problem at all, Mrs. Drysdale,” she smiled and went back to the galley.

“Well, that’s a real mindfuck,” Ransom said as he flopped back into his seat. He glared down at Lola, “She gonna do that again?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently picking her up and holding her close to try to comfort her.

He pulled his sleep mask down over his eyes. “Great, love being a rat-dog owner.”

“She isn’t your dog,” you said curtly.

“Whatever. This hangover is still pounding against my skull. Wake me when we land.”

When you landed in Boston, Ransom led you to where his vintage beamer was parked and you both squeezed into it. The slightly hysterical thought struck you that it wouldn’t be suitable at all once there was a baby to cart around. You pushed that thought away. No use getting ahead of yourself.

Ransom’s house was on the edge of the city, surrounded by more trees than you expected. From the outside, it was mostly glass. Very modern. It felt cold.

He parked the car and grabbed the few bags you both had with you. The rest of your things would be delivered the next day. He showed you inside without much pomp or circumstance, just walked in ahead of you, and left the door open.

The majority of the first floor seemed to be one large, open-plan room. It was sparsely decorated and the pieces that were there seemed to be lifted wholesale from the pages of an upscale furniture catalog. There was nothing of Ransom in this house. Not that you really knew him well enough to say, but you didn’t think there was any information to be gleaned from his living space either. It all felt very empty. It was not what you had expected.

You set Lola down on the hardwood floor and she immediately ran off to explore. You crossed your fingers that she wouldn’t get into anything, not able to forget Ransom’s threat that he’d make you get rid of her if she messed anything up. You glanced over at Ransom to gauge if he was upset that you’d let her roam on her own, but he wasn’t paying any attention, leafing through a pile of mail left on the kitchen island.

He must have felt you watching him, because without looking up he said, “Bedroom’s upstairs. I’ll bring our things up later.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. You grabbed your bag, not wanting to wait for him, and made your way up the staircase in the middle of the living room. Judging by how he’d treated you so far, you figured he planned to tuck you away in some guest room, out of his way except for when he needed you. It wasn’t unheard of in marriages like this, and you would honestly be grateful to have your own space. But as you looked through the rooms upstairs, you found a home gym, a study, and 2 storage rooms. There’d also been a bathroom and a few closets. The only room left had to be his, but you couldn’t imagine he’d want to share that with you. You very gingerly walked in and set your bag at the foot of the bed. You didn’t spend any more time there, afraid that you might be wrong.

When you went back downstairs, he was now rummaging through his fridge. “I put my bag in the bedroom upstairs,” you said to his back.

He just grunted his assent, then came out with two glass containers in his hands. He plated them both and put one in the microwave. “I have a housekeeper that comes three times a week and usually prepares meals for the whole week. You can give her any food preferences you have.”

You nodded. “I enjoy cooking,” you said, your mother's advice to ‘keep him happy’ floating in your mind. “I can make dinner too, sometimes.”

He nodded and shrugged as he took the plate out of the microwave and placed it in front of you on the island. You took a seat on one of the stools. “If you want,” he said, “but I don’t expect it.” He put his own plate in the microwave.

“Do you have any other staff?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not for the house, not right now.”

You understood the implication that the staff would grow as your family did. A nanny, a driver, a gardener maybe, if you moved to a house that required one.

It was the lack of a driver that made you nervous. You’d never gone without one at home. You also hadn’t seen a large garage on the property, so you guessed there weren’t any extra cars around. You felt stuck in this house already, shut in like he didn’t want you to leave.

When his food was heated, he sat beside you and you ate together in silence. The food was fine, you were sure, but you couldn’t taste it. Your mind was ahead of you, wondering what the rest of the night held.

When you were done, Ransom loaded your dishes into the dishwasher and then said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat, so I’m just going straight to bed. Feel free to stay up if you want. I’m a heavy sleeper so you won’t wake me when you come in.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your surprise. So he did intend for you to share his room. But apparently, just for sleeping. You were relieved. You were. The little voice in your head that wouldn’t stop whispering that he didn’t want you didn’t count. “I’m still three hours behind, so I might stay up a little longer.” Doing what, you had no idea. You didn’t have any of your things and you weren’t sure what was off-limits here yet. And you were exhausted, still hadn’t recovered from not sleeping the night before. But you just couldn’t deal with the awkwardness of going to bed at the same time as him.

“OK,” he said and then just stood there, looking surprisingly lost. After a couple of endless minutes, he just said, “Goodnight,” and finally went upstairs.

You grabbed your phone out of your handbag, unsurprised to see multiple messages from Steve, checking in on you. You sent him one back, assuring him that the flight had been fine, the drive to the house was fine, you were fine. You collected Lola from where she was curled up on a rug, quickly fed her and let her out, and then brought her and her crate upstairs. After a few minutes of internal debate, you decided to set her up in the gym, fairly certain that even in her crate, Ransom wouldn’t want her in his bedroom. It took a lot of coaxing to get her in. She was so used to sharing your bed. She whined when you closed the little grate and your heart broke. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “You’ll get used to it. It’ll be ok.”

You quietly went into the bedroom and Ransom was, indeed, already asleep, spread out on his stomach again, but luckily this time only taking up one side of the bed. He’d left the lamp on the opposite side on for you. You took your sleep clothes out of your bag and brought your toiletries into the ensuite, unpacking only what you’d need for the night. His things were all piled around one of the side-by-side sinks, but the other was clear for you. You went through your nightly routine quickly and then went back into the bedroom and very carefully climbed into bed. He didn’t stir. You turned off the lamp and settled at the edge of the bed. Your exhaustion took you quickly.

When you woke in the morning, Ransom was gone.

Your things were delivered a few hours after you woke. You started by trying to organize the boxes into the least obtrusive pile possible. You hoped that if they were tucked into a corner, he wouldn’t be too annoyed while you took your time going through them. You started with a few of the smaller boxes, unpacking the items into places you hoped they could go.

You took Lola for a walk around the neighborhood. It was sparsely populated, the houses spaced far apart. You didn’t run into any neighbors.

One of the walk-in closets in the bedroom had been cleared out for you, so you spent the afternoon unpacking all your clothes. By the time you were done, it was time for dinner. There was still no sign of Ransom.

You fed Lola and helped yourself to one of the meals in the fridge. You ate alone and after you cleaned up, you dug a book out of one of your boxes and settled on one of the not-very-comfortable couches with Lola to read. You didn’t know if she was allowed on the furniture – you were sure she wasn’t, actually – but Ransom wasn’t here to see it, so you couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

As you were finishing the second chapter in your book, he walked through the front door. With how the house was set up, he had a clear view of you and Lola from the door. “Hi,” was all he said.

“Hi,” was all you could say back.

He just stood there for a moment and then took off his coat and shoes. “How was your day?” he asked, stiffly, as he came into the living room.

“Fine,” you said. Then you realized he was actually attempting conversation and added, “My things came, so I got started unpacking.”

He nodded, “That’s good. Did you eat?”

“I did,” you said, hoping that was the right answer. “Can I get you some food?”

“No, I’m fine. I ate at the office.” Well, that answered where he’d been all day – his family’s publishing house.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to go upstairs to unwind. Will you be heading up soon?”

Oh. Right. It’d finally come. “Yeah,” you said, your mouth suddenly dry. “I’ll just get Lola settled and then join you.”

He looked down at your dog in your lap like he was noticing her for the first time. But he didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked upstairs.

You let Lola out the back door for just a couple minutes, then took her upstairs. It was even harder to get her into her crate this time, even after you buried treats in her blankets. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cooed, once you finally had her locked in. “I promise it won’t always be this hard and scary. It’ll be ok.”

Ransom was waiting for you in his room, sitting in an armchair by the window. “We should talk,” he said quietly.

“Ok.” You perched on the edge of the bed and did your best to look him in the eye, even as your heart was racing.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward. “We don’t–” he started, then another breath. “There’s nothing that we have to do tonight. I mean, we can certainly get the first time out of the way, if that’s what you want to do. But it doesn’t have to be now. We have time.”

You wanted to be relieved, but it just felt like delaying the inevitable. “We don’t, actually,” you said shaking your head. “We don’t have that much time. Especially if it takes a while. If there’s going to be an issue getting pregnant, on either side, I think the sooner we know the better. I don’t want to be blindsided by it when we only have a month left.”

“Ok,” he nodded. “That makes sense. Yeah, we can get it over with.”

You were proud of yourself for the way you didn’t wince at his phrasing, but it was a near thing. But was it really fair to be upset or hurt by that when it was how you were feeling too? You wanted to stop delaying it. You were ready to just know how it was going to be, what he would want. So yeah, maybe ‘get it over with’ wasn’t such a bad way to put it.

He stood up and sighed, looking like he was bracing himself. “I do need to know, have you done this before?”

You swallowed. The question wasn’t unexpected but you weren’t sure how to answer it and didn’t know which answer he was looking for. You decided to be honest and hoped it would be ok. “Yes, I’ve had sex,” you said, quietly.

He let out a long exhale in relief. “Ok,” he said, “ok, that’s good.”

You stood up, unsure of what to do. You just wanted to be on the other side of it. You suddenly thought of what you’d just told Lola. It wouldn’t always be this hard and scary. You would get used to it. You just had to get through this first time. And then you’d know how he was. Resolved now, you started taking off your shirt.

“Wait,” he said, breathed really. “Just wait.”

Your shirt was already halfway off, stuck on your arms above your head, so you shucked it the rest of the way and threw it on the floor, but didn’t do anything else.

He came over and stood so he was in your space. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb on your cheekbone. And very slowly, he ducked his head to bring his lips to yours. There was something about it. The intimacy. Even with what you knew you were about to do with him. You just– A kiss was too much. You turned away. You couldn’t do it.

Instead, your hands went to unbutton your pants. You undid it slowly then bent over with your back to him to push them down your legs, sticking your ass out as much as you could. That was better than a kiss, right? You could make him want you.

You kicked your pants off and stood back up, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you. But his face was unreadable. You weren’t ready for him to touch you, so you said, “I can get myself ready for you,” hoping it came off coy, but you were afraid he’d be able to hear how your voice shook. For the briefest moment, you almost thought you saw something travel across his face. Disappointment, maybe. But it was gone too fast for you to be able to tell, and you were trying so hard to look away, anyway.

You got on the bed, lying on your back, sliding your panties off as seductively as you could. You closed your eyes tight and slowly moved one hand down your abdomen while the other started to play with your breast, cupping it, tweaking your nipple. As your other hand slipped between your thighs, you brought up your go-to fantasy. Nothing fancy or outlandish. Just a man standing over you, touching you, telling you how much he loved you, how much he loved your body. How he was going to ruin you, completely take you apart. You tried to focus on that as your fingers slowly made their way between your folds, as they made their way to your clit. But this room kept pulling you back to reality. You could hear Ransom taking his clothes off. You tried to ignore it. You were starting to get wet, slowly but surely, so you carefully pushed one finger inside yourself, trying so hard to focus on the man, his voice. You heard a bottle of lube flick open. No, no, you weren’t here, as you added another finger. You could hear Ransom’s hand on his cock now as your thumb continued to rub your clit. You opened your eyes despite yourself. Ransom was kneeling on the edge of the bed, stroking himself to hardness. It was the first time you’d seen him fully naked. He really was so beautiful. You sort of hated him for it.

You closed your eyes again. You could do this. You scissored your fingers slowly, opening yourself up, a little whine escaping your lips, when suddenly, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. You wanted to scream in frustration. It was no use. Your hands dropped down to your sides. You were ready enough. It wouldn’t hurt, it was fine. You blinked your eyes open again to find Ransom staring at your face, searching for something. You couldn’t begin to guess what. “I’m ready,” you said.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft, but gritty.

“Yeah, I’m good. How do you want me?”

He seemed almost startled by your question. “Uh, however you’re most comfortable.”

You nodded and flipped over onto your stomach, pulling your knees up toward your elbows and putting your ass in the air. This would be easiest if you didn’t have to look at him. If you could imagine someone else. Someone who loved you. Someone who wanted to be here.

You heard the bottle of lube again and then felt him settle between your legs. One hand was on your ass and you presumed he was using the other to line himself up. You pushed your face into the pillow underneath you. You tried to bring the fantasy back as he slowly eased inside of you. He was big, but not so big it hurt. You breathed through it as he worked his way in with short, slow thrusts. He was being so gentle with you. You weren’t sure if you liked it. The hand on your ass moved to your hip, while the other snaked around to your stomach, softly stroking you there, then moved down over your pelvis, and then finally between your thighs to search for your clit. He found it quickly. But no matter how hard you closed your eyes, his fingers made it impossible for you to pretend that it was anyone else with you, anyone else touching you. Without thinking, you pushed his hand away and replaced it with your own.

He was making little grunts and gasps behind you that you tried to ignore. You rubbed furious circles over your clit and tried to focus only on the fullness you felt. But then, that fullness started to lessen. The grunts behind you turned into a “Shit.” and then a “Fuck!” and suddenly, that fullness completely disappeared. You let out a little cry as he quickly pulled out of you. You turned around to catch a glimpse of his softening cock before he disappeared into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

You lay on your back for just a moment, your mind trying to catch up, figure out what on earth had just happened. That voice that had been there this whole time, since that first meeting a month ago, came back with smug satisfaction. He doesn’t want you, it said, over and over. Your thighs were sticky, probably mostly from the lube. You didn’t think your wetness or his precome had been enough to make a mess out of you. You got up, desperate to not be naked anymore. You grabbed a sleep shirt out of the closet you were using and slipped it on. You hugged yourself, standing in the middle of the room with no idea what to do.

In the silence, with nothing else to focus on, you were suddenly aware of Lola crying across the hall. Fuck. Everything just kept getting worse.

Ransom came out of the bathroom and went straight to the bed. He stopped at the foot, seemingly surprised that you weren’t still in it. He looked up and found you on the other side of the room.

“Is everything ok?” you asked quietly.

“It’s fine,” he said, voice sharp. You flinched and he sighed, then visibly tried to calm himself down. “It’s fine,” he said again, much softer this time. He held out a washcloth to you. “In case you need to clean yourself up.”

You took a few steps toward him so that you could grab it. “Thank you,” you said, as you quickly wiped between your legs, then went to finish cleaning up in the bathroom.

When you came back out, he was back in bed, on his back, just staring at the ceiling. “What’s that noise?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you hurried to answer. “It’s Lola, but she’s ok. She just isn’t used to sleeping alone. She’ll get used to it, eventually.” Your heart broke as you spoke, but you knew it couldn’t be avoided.

“Where does she usually sleep?” he asked.

It took you a minute to answer, you were so surprised by the question. “Uh, with me,” you said.

“Then go get her,” he said, without looking at you. He hadn’t looked at you since you’d come out of the bathroom.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Yeah, if it stops her crying.”

You didn’t wait to be told again. You hurried across the hall and opened her crate, scooping her up into your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you cooed. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s going to be ok now.”

When you got back to the room, Ransom had turned off his light and turned over onto his side, facing the wall. You placed Lola on the bed and crawled in after her. As you turned off your own lamp, you whispered, “Thank you,” not sure if he was awake to hear it.

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valentiyne · 5 months ago

Text

𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖽 ✘ 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗆!𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝖾𝗋

TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Summary: Uncovering the truth about your little affair with Spiderman to your obvious friend Peter. What could go wrong? (Let me know if I should do a part two!)

Warnings: Mild cursing & Peter being a dork

Word Count: 1.5k (not proofread)

Peter Parker stuck to himself for a majority of his time at Empire State High. I met him in middle school but we didn't meet up until eighth grade, and when I was stuck next to him in Chemistry- I knew we'd be inseparable. He was a nerd, a 4.8 GPA and enrolled in almost every club the counselors would allow.

He was a nerd, but he was also my best friend. My best friend that I hadn't talked to in two years.

The hundredth refilled coffee of the night almost dropped me to my knees. I was beyond exhausted, and it didn't help that my phone was almost dead. It was my fourth double this week, and I knew no amount of Redbulls would keep me going. There were a few stray customers sitting around the counter, reading the daily bugle or staring up at the old television playing a recap of the morning news.

Ben, a man who I've come to learn as a night shift security guard always came in before close. His hair was black with a few stray greys, mid forties with no wife or kids. He ordered a cherry pie with a black coffee and sat in silence until it was time to close.

He left a hefty tip- so I didn't mind.

"How you doing, Cherry." His nickname rolled off his tongue as he reaches down to grab his sweater from the stool. He knew everything about Peter and I, he had been here to see it all.

I shrug, dropping my dirty rag in the sink with a sigh. "I'll be okay."

"You said that two years ago when I first asked you." He teased, earning a small smile from me.

"That's what I like to see," He drops a twenty on the counter and gives a soft wave, letting the bells from the front door do the talking as he left to work.

As I lock the front door, I drop my skateboard to the floor and kick my feet up to head home. The skateboard was a limited edition OSCORP branded drop. Peter had camped out for two days to get it for me before the beginning of sophomore year, and i've treasured it every since. The train left 7 minutes ago, and I knew it would be a good forty minutes before I was home.

My headphones flowed with my hair as I pushed myself faster down the sidewalk. Queen was almost dead this time of night, aside from a few people who roamed the streets- and of course the vigilante the daily bugle has named Spider Man.

I've learned of his existence from a newspaper Ben was reading, his red and blue suit depicting on the front cover. It was something out a movie- a man who flies through the air with webs?

Peter thought it was fascinating, of course he did. He was a boy who thought everything was fascinating- except for me.

It wasn't that big of a deal, he liked Gwen. She was everything I wasn't. She had an internship at Oscorp, she was involved in the community, she was smart- if not smarter than Peter. Thank you Linkedln!

He was head over heels for her. And I was head over heels for him.

As my skateboard glided over the concrete, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket a few times. Slipping it out, I glance down to my screen to see a couple of messages from my roommate.

Just as I went to open the messages, my skateboard halted and I was launched from the board- sideways ankle and chin first into the rough pavement. "Fuck!" I cry out, my shaky hands immediately reaching for my chin. Crimson blood littered my fingers and I groaned obnoxiously, leaning down to my now shattered phone to check and see if it was still salvageable.

It was not.

Groaning in pain, I managed to extend my ankle out and look at it. It was probably a sprain, nothing that wasn't too life threatening but I knew I wasn't going to be able to skate any further.

Speaking of skating... Where the hell is my board?

I glance around the dark sidewalk, squinting to correct my vision but it was no use. My board was gone. I leaned down in pain, clutching my ankle and letting the blood drip onto the pavement below me.

I was screwed.

Peter kept his promise he had made to her years ago. He made sure she got home safe every night she worked. He watched her step out of the diner with his heart in his throat as he dangled off the side of a building. He had overheard all the conversations she had at work, not in a creepy way- he just wanted to know if she talked about him to some of her regulars.

His side hurt from a beating he took a few hours ago, a fight he had to cut short because he didn't want to miss "watching" her go home. He could have easily taken the guy out, but his mind was so lost on what went wrong between him and her. He wanted to just sleep. But the city never slept, and neither did he.

He left Gwen's apartment early this morning, almost couldn't stand the feeling of not watching and keeping tabs on the girl. His girl. It took him almost an hour to put the suit on, feeling like he wasn't strong enough mentally anymore. He wanted to walk her home as Peter, not Spiderman.

He told himself: stay away from her. Keep her safe that way.

But watching her collide with the pavement, her face hitting the hard cement and the board he had bought her going flying- he knew he had to step in.

I wiped the last of my blood from my chin with the back of my hand when a voice suddenly spoke right behind me.

"Ahem, You-Uh... You okay Miss?"

I yelped, turning around to see no one was there. My eyes traveling down the dark street and sidewalks.

Am I going crazy?

I look back down to my hands that were now stained red when the voice spoke again,

"I'm up here.." My head slowly angled upward and I see it- well I see him.

Standing ontop of a street light infront of me, I see none other than Spider Man.

"Yeah-" I cut my sentance off, my mind suddenly wandering to the fact that I was speaking to the infamous vigilante.

His head turns, his eyes on his mask narrowing at me. His mannerisms were odd, almost...familiar?

I look around, avoiding his gaze. "I fell off my skateboard... i need to get up," I hoist myself onto my right foot.

"Whoa whoa whoa", The man suddenly jumps down from his crouch position above and puts his hands on my shoulders. As his masked hands touch my shoulder, he flinches slightly. "The board isn't important, you're hurt."

My head shakes quickly, almost scrambling to get back on my feet. "No No no, you don't understand. That board, someone... he gave it to me."

The man steps back now, his eyes widening as he looks down at me. He looks... confused?

"Who did?"

I mentally slap myself in the face. He wasn't a therapist, he was a hero. I take a deep breath, "An old friend...." The breath that I let out was shaky, almost like I was about to cry.

The man now puts his hands up in defense, letting me get up onto my feet with a wince. I stumbled a bit from the unevenness, but I eventually got myself steady.

"I sprained my ankle," I say, gritting my teeth.

He immediately kneels down beside me and I limped as he starts to examine my ankle. He moves it gently, taking care not to cause any more pain. "It's not too bad," he says, "But it could use some ice."

I gave up hope looking for the board, and I let out a frustrated groan. I was annoyed. It was the last thing I had of Peter's, and now it was gone too.

"Shouldn't you be stopping a heist?" I suddenly snap, turning around to see the man standing behind me awkwardly.

He looks down at me and leans his hand back to scratch his neck sheepishly. "I saw what happened so.. I uh.. I wanted to help."

I look up at him now, feeling comforted by his presence. His posture, his voice, and everything else about him. He was familiar, but I couldn't place a finger on it.

I can't help but wonder how many other people he's helped like this. It's hard to believe that someone so extraordinary could exist in real life.

Now I just needed to figure out how I was going to get home.

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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 2 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve's deep in a lie. One that he won't be able to recover from. What happens when he finds out you know the truth.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, and fluff of course. Brat Tamer!Steve, Oral (M Receiving),

AN: Based on a headcanon I read at some point where Bucky threatens to reveal when Steve's real birthday is - I don't think I ever laughed harder! Hope you guys all enjoy! LYYYYYYYYY

"Whatcha got for me?" He smirked, "Hopefully not more files?" He added with a slight groan.

"Not at all. Just a little something," You showed him the box, "for your birthday."

Steve chuckled awkwardly, "Thanks sweetheart, but it's not my birthday for a while yet? It's December 12th?"

You were cut off by Steve slamming his hand down over your mouth. He looked around wildly, hoping that no one heard, before dragging you outside.

"Where did you find that file?"

"So it's true! Ha!"

"I'm not messing around, sweetheart. Who else knows?"

"No one. For now."

Steve stalked up to you, finger pointed at your chest, "You best keep your mouth shut, sweetheart."

"Or what, Captain, what are you gonna do?" You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Fuck around and find out."

"Don't tempt me with a good time, Captain."

"Shut your mouth," He growled, his pupils blown with lust.

"Make me."