#december recs

[imtryingbuck]

Oh my heart! I love this!

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

Summary: You finally confess your feelings to Bucky, hoping he might like you back. He turns you down.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, no other significant warnings really without spoiling the plot 🤫

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: If you enjoyed this one, please do leave a comment / feedback / reblog! ❤️

Loving Bucky was like drinking honey. It was warm and comforting, sweet and overwhelming for your senses. You looked forward to seeing his face everyday and adored hearing him laugh, his whole face creasing when he doubled over at something funny you had said.

He had become an unlikely close ally since you joined the team. More than just a colleague. The time you’d spent together in the last year had been a defining period for you, as you had really grown to treasure his presence in your life.

God, the way this man made you feel. You didn’t think you’d ever be lucky enough to meet someone who would make you so happy.

It would be even better if you actually had the gall to tell him how you felt.

Being emotionally vulnerable was difficult. You wanted more, but it was scary. However, you recalled a piece of advice that one of your college professors had told you years ago, wise words which stuck with you. If you never try, the answer will always be no.

You had it set in your mind that you were going to tell him. You were, but maybe not today. You would wait for tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Your inner turmoil was frustrating. You fought androids and aliens and god knows what else, but you were afraid of this?

It could mess everything up, you reasoned. If he didn’t return your feelings, then you would make everything awkward, and maybe you would lose him even as a friend. You didn't know if you could handle that.

Despite this, a tiny hopeful voice in your head told you that Bucky felt the same about you. The way he always looked for a reason to spend time with you, how he shared his deepest secrets with you. The way you always partnered up on missions, and how you always had each other's backs. The way he comforted you when you were sad, allowing you to cry on his chest, soothing fingers stroking your hair.

When you first joined the team, he had been the first one to properly befriend you. Your first encounter was in the kitchen, where you had ended up in the middle of the night after being unable to sleep.

You were shocked to see Bucky propped up on a breakfast stool at the kitchen island, book in hand. You had waved nervously at him, going over to the fridge to get a carton of chocolate milk.

“Can’t sleep?” he grunted. You glanced to see what it was reading, seeing 'The Hobbit' embossed in gold letters across a hardback cover.

“Yeah,” you said softly, tugging down at the hem of your sleep shirt. You hadn’t exchanged many words with him at this point, but he seemed friendly enough. “You want a glass?”

He contemplated for a second before he nodded. “Sure.”

You ended up sitting opposite each other, glasses of chocolate milk in hand.

“How come you’re awake?”

Bucky smiled wryly. “I have trouble sleeping.”

“Nightmares?”

“Something like that.”

You hummed to yourself, taking a sip of the sweet beverage. There was something childish but comforting about chocolate milk - you always used to have it with your mom when you were small.

“How you feeling?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence. “Settling in?”

You nodded, the grip around your glass tightening. “Yeah, kind of. Everyone’s nice.”

Bucky seemed to know that you wanted to say more, silently promoting you with his eyes to continue.

“Everybody seems very tight knit - I guess that makes me a bit nervous? Trying to fit in.” You looked down, chewing on your lower lip. "I've always had a bit of trouble with that."

“I get you,” Bucky said, eyes still observing you. They were the color of cobalt - stunning. “Don’t worry. I think you’ll do just fine.”

That was the first meeting, and since then, you had only grown closer to him. Your mid-night conversations were a frequent occurrence. At least once or twice a week, you’d find each other in the kitchen at ungodly hours. Over time, you had introduced other activities to pass the time - board games, watching TV shows, fun idle gossip. Each time, you were always accompanied by chocolate milk.

“My mom died when I was six,” you had told Bucky during one of your late night rendezvous, half a year into your time with the team. “I don’t have many memories of her, but I remember that whenever I was sick or sad, she would have chocolate milk with me. It always cheered me up.”

You exchanged nuggets of information about each others pasts, and soon, you were sure that Bucky knew enough about you to write your biography. You felt surprisingly fine, opening up to him about anything and everything.

The seasons passed in a flash, and it was suddenly the one year anniversary of your joining the team. You found Bucky in the kitchen once again, at 3AM on a Thursday. You had a smile ready on your face, though your limbs ached. They were littered with bruises and cuts from your latest mission, but seeing him put a bounce in your step.

Bucky was staring down at his phone, the glow illuminating his face in the semi-darkness. It was chiming loudly with notifications, his expression unreadable.

“What’s that?” you asked, making your presence known.

Bucky already had a glass of milk out for you. He placed his phone down, grimacing.

“Sam got me doing this online dating thing,” he said casually. Your smile fell, unable to hide your surprise. “Modern dating is kind of crazy. Women are so much bolder than in the 40s."

Online dating? What?

“I didn’t know you started online dating,” you said, trying to keep your voice light. You didn’t even know Bucky was Iooking to date. You were deflated - any hopes that Bucky returned your crush were promptly dashed. You tried to swallow your disappointment.

“I wasn’t, really,” he said. “I guess it’s not the worst idea, though.”

Damn you, Sam Wilson, you thought.

“You meet women in real life all the time,” you said, taking your usual seat across him. “No one catch your interest?” You played nonchalantly with your fingers, trying not to pick your nails - a nervous habit.

Bucky pursed his lips, eyes landing on you for a moment before he looked at the ceiling.

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“You met anyone nice so far?” you probed, your jealousy spiking.

“Early days,” he responded. He slid his phone across the surface of the island, showing you the dating app he had open. The girls were plentiful, all beautiful and clearly enthusiastic. Bucky’s inbox was full of flirtatious greetings, but you noticed he hadn’t yet responded to a single one.

“Hmm.” You struggled to keep your face neutral. You felt the sinking realization that he must have never thought of you that way. Otherwise, why would he be looking for someone when you were right there?

You couldn't focus properly on the conversation anymore, your mind racing as Bucky moved the topic onto something unrelated.

Fantasising about Bucky had been dangerous. You had spent so much time imagining the day you would finally confess, and he would reciprocate your feelings and you would have the happy relationship you yearned for. Even if you didn’t confess first, you were hoping he would.

Up until now, you had sometimes told yourself that Bucky was just being patient. That he was old-fashioned, so he was taking his time in courting you.

You realized now that you were simply never considered an option.

The next few weeks were torturous. Christmas was fast-approaching, but you were far from being in the festive mood. You had to put on a front with Bucky now, pretend everything was alright and not feel too tempted to ask about the progress of his dating life. Things were tough, and you were feeling unhappier day by day.

You had always known, deep down, that your feelings for him were more than just a crush, and had been for many months. It ached, the feeling of knowing your emotions were not returned.

One horrible part of you wondered why. Were you not sexy enough? Not smart enough? Not charming enough?

Maybe all of the above.

Seeing Bucky nowadays made you ache. You found yourself feeling sad whenever he cracked jokes with you, shared his thoughts with you, when the backs of his hands brushed against yours as you walked side by side.

He would find someone that he actually wanted to be with, to do all that and more. It wasn’t his fault, and you knew he had no idea that you were in so much pain, that he had single handedly eviscerated you.

Tony's Christmas party was a perfect opportunity to drown your sorrows. So cliché. You knew it was a bad idea, but that didn't stop you knocking back drink after drink by the bar, ignoring Natasha's requests to dance. After all, if all the Hollywood rom-coms you had watched were any indication, this was one of the key steps to getting over a guy.

The party was kicking off, and the room was spinning like a ride at a fairground. Your alcohol tolerance had always been low, and now you were paying for your actions. Your skin was burning hot and prickling, and you were struggling to walk straight. Although, this was exactly what you wanted - it was somehow cathartic, purging you of all the pent of frustration inside.

A dark figure appeared in your eye line. Your vision refocused until you realized who it was - your favorite, handsome face was looking very annoyed right now, mouth set in a firm line.

“You’re drunk,” Bucky stated, his voice filled with annoyance.

“Duh.”

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he said, his hand latching around your bicep.

“No,” you said indignantly, jerking away. Your face blanched at the sudden movement. “I don’t feel well."

Bucky rolled his eyes, opting to steer you towards the balcony instead for some fresh air. He shut the French doors behind you, allowing the silent night air to consume you, isolating the two of you from the crowd.

“Sit,” he said, gently helping you down onto a wrought iron bench. “What were you thinking? You know you can’t drink.”

“I know.”

“Something wrong?” Bucky knew that the answer was yes - there was no other reason for you to be drinking unless you were upset or mad.

“I wanted to forget,” you croaked, leaning your head back to get a proper look at him. The sight of him devastated you. He looked so beautiful, so far out of your reach.

“Forget what?”

You stared up at the ink black sky, at the stars. The night air was cool against your burning skin. Everything was quiet, save the sound of his breathing in your ear as he leaned close to you. In that intoxicated moment, you thought you had nothing to lose, forgetting that Bucky was truly your everything.

“How much I love you,” you whispered, tilting your head to look at him through beseeching eyes.

Bucky sucked in a breath of air. His entire stance became rigid at your words. The way you stared at him imploringly confirmed that he hadn’t misheard.

“How long?” He was frowning even as you gave him a trembling, sad smile.

“A long time.”

He raised his hand as if he wanted to touch you, but settled it back down on his thigh. Your face crumpled at his obvious discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

Those words alone were enough to make your throat tighten and the needles in your chest multiply ten-fold.

“Tell me you feel the same way,” you said suddenly. It was a plead. You hated how desperate you were in this moment, but you needed him to know how you felt, and you needed to know whether you had a chance. Call it liquid courage, but you felt like you had nothing to lose when you grasped one of his calloused hands in yours.

Bucky was silent for a long time, staring at you with sadness and regret in his eyes. You hated how uncomfortable you must’ve been making him. God, what were you thinking, burdening him with your feelings and putting him in this position? You scolded yourself mentally, feeling nauseous.

Your hand was tight around his, your knuckles white. With every silent second that passed, your fingers loosened, falling limp. His hand was warm, yet you had never felt so cold.

He pulled his hand free, clenching it into a fist.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. Each word was a knife sinking into your chest. The realization hit you suddenly, thick and sour.

You felt bile rise in your throat. You stood up then, the floor shaking beneath you. You almost collapsed.

“Be careful - ”

“Oh god,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

You darted away with surprising speed, wrenching the doors open and hurrying back inside the room. You ignored the sounds of him calling you as you rushed through the crowd, trying to put one foot steadily in front of you and praying you wouldn’t fall.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You held the tears in until you returned to your bedroom, slamming the door shut. You bolted into the en-suite and fell onto your knees in front of the toilet, the acid in your throat finally seeing the surface as you vomited.

Your stomach heaved, emptying yourself of all its contents. But you couldn’t get rid of the horrible, cloying feeling in your gut that came with Bucky’s rejection.

You fell asleep on the bathroom floor, tear tracks on your face and fresh wound in your heart.

You were dreading seeing him the next morning. Thankfully, you arrived in the conference room before he did. The others were there already, gathered around the table. Sam took one look at you and snickered. You were dressed in black, hair in disarray and a pair of large sunglasses on your face.

“Someone had a bit too much fun last night,” he sang.

You grimaced, closing your eyes at the way his voice boomed in your overly sensitive ears. “Stop shouting,” you croaked.

Bucky entered a few minutes later. You kept your head down, refusing to look at him or otherwise acknowledge his presence. To the others, your hostility could be passed off as a result of your clear hangover. But the excruciating humiliation of your confession to him hung between the two of you, making you squirm in your seat.

You didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting, keeping your sunglasses on and staring stoically at Steve as he delivered the mission briefing. As soon as he dismissed the team, you jogged out of the room, but was accosted by Bucky in the hallway.

“Can we talk?” he asked loudly.

You didn’t want to make a scene. You put a fake smile on.

“Sure.” Your eyes were still swollen behind your dark shades as you tried not to let the sight of him bring out any more tears.

He led you into an empty room a few doors down. His face was set like stone, only the slightest crease in his forehead hinting at something akin to distress.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he said carefully.

“It’s okay.” You winced in discomfort, even just the sound of your own voice bringing you pain. You wondered if he had rehearsed a speech, to let you down easy.

“You should never drink that much again.” His voice was sharp, critical.

“I can take care of myself,” you said, taken aback by his tone.

“It’s not worth it,” he said, his attitude easing up. “I’m not worth it. I don’t want you to feel this way because of me."

You felt your shoulders sag. You felt so tired, defeated.

"I can't control the way I feel," you whispered.

Bucky kept a reasonable distance between the two of you, like he was afraid to go near you now that the pair of you were alone. You wished you could read his mind, know what he was thinking.

His next words were chilling. "You’re my friend, and I care a lot about you.”

The emphasis on the word ‘friend’ didn’t go unnoticed. The way he looked at you was orchestrated, pointed. He was letting you know, in no uncertain terms, what he wanted to say. You were almost grateful that he didn’t directly bring up how you had told him you loved him, as if to save you your last shred of dignity.

He stared at you now with such intensity, the meaning clear in the way he looked at you. We are just friends.

He was doing you a favour. Still, your heart shattered. Your hands were shaking. There it was again - that awful, stinging pain of rejection.

“Okay,” you said faintly.

“I'm sorry if I ever made you think that we could be anything more," he began. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“Let’s not do this,” you interrupted. If he kept speaking, you felt like you might die. You wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky licked his lips but remained silent.

“Please..." You hated how your voice shook. "I would really appreciate it if we could just move on. Let’s not bring this up again. It would really help me.”

Bucky folded his arms tightly across his chest, nodding stiffly.

“Okay.”

You backed away from him, grateful your eyes were hidden. You left the room and didn’t look back.

You managed to act normal around Bucky. Well, semi-normal. The rest of the team didn't even seem to notice anything was amiss - you still spoke to Bucky, managed to look at him as if the very sight didn't break your heart, kept a smile on your face.

But that was in front of them. For anything else which wasn't out of necessity or mission-related, you avoided interacting with him. When you woke up in the middle of the night, you no longer plodded into the kitchen, instead staying in your bed, sobbing and staring at the ceiling.

You no longer laughed and joked with him. You turned your attention to the others instead, talking to Steve and Clint and Natasha and whoever else was there, in a desperate attempt to hide the fact that you were trying to keep it together. You wanted to keep your mind distracted.

It was horrible.

Things would not be the same again, at least not for a little while. You needed time to make yourself get over him.

It was easier, when Bucky returned to the compound one night with a blonde on his arm. She was giggling and clinging onto him, and your heart sank when they stumbled into the elevator just as you were making your way to your floor.

You couldn't have been more shocked at the sight of them. Bucky had red prints all over his cheeks, and her lipstick was smeared. The smell of alcohol was in the air.

"You're not supposed to have civilians in here," was the only thing you managed to say, shock infiltrating your system. The blonde giggled.

"Oops."

Bucky only shrugged, his hand slipping into hers as the elevator rose. Your heart clenched.

He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to show you that he had no interest in you, leave you without any doubts. You didn’t know that Bucky had it in him, to be so cruel. If you weren't trying to hold back your tears, you would've almost felt impressed by his antics. The worst thing was, you truly understood why he was doing this.

You think you may have hated him in that moment.

The elevator doors dinged open, and you stumbled out. Tears began prickling in your eyes, and you were sure Bucky could see.

You didn't say anything as you marched to your room, the elevator doors sliding shut.

You had always been good at pretending. Pretending you were happy when you weren't, pretending you were calm when you were furious, pretending you knew the answer when you didn't.

Bucky saw past a lot of that. He could tell when you were lying, could see when you were holding back. He read you like an open book.

He was important to you, and still would be even if he had rejected your confession and rubbed the presence of another girl in your face. You told yourself that it was a good thing - he was performing a service, encouraging you to move on. Besides, he didn't owe you a thing. He could do whatever he wanted with anyone else.

You couldn't lie convincingly to yourself.

Bucky's birthday rolled around all too quickly. You had it marked in your calendar, though you would've remembered even without the reminder.

Despite your conflicted feelings, you wanted to get him a gift. You had planned the perfect one months ago and had enlisted Bruce's help in finding it. You still wanted to see the look on his face when he opened it.

Bucky roamed the hallways on your floor the morning of his birthday, frowning slightly when your bedroom door opened, Bruce appearing in the frame. He caught a glimpse of where you were perched on your bed, face flushed in mild excitement.

Bucky gave Bruce a smile which may have looked more like a grimace, the latter giving him a polite nod before continuing on. Your door swung inwards, but Bucky stuck a hand between it and the frame, poking his head through.

"What's that all about?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

You shuffled something behind your back. You hadn't spoken to Bucky much as of late, barely acknowledging any of the awkward encounters that had occurred in the past months, instead choosing to face him with a professional-politeness.

"Nothing," you said, not particularly aware of what it would look like to have Bruce emerge from your bedroom.

"Is something going on between you two?" he asked directly. He gave a laugh void of humor, the sound escaping him in a huff. "Do you have a thing for emotionally damaged men?" He gestured to himself with his vibranium arm.

The small smile on your lips fell. Anger simmered in your eyes.

How could he? How could he reduce his feelings for you to nothing and stomp on them like it was trash?

You stood and marched towards him, a wave of fury overcoming you, thrusting a wrapped parcel into his hands.

"He helped me get your present, actually. Happy birthday," you spat, watching as Bucky's mouth fell open silently. You pushed past him, unable to look him in the eyes, feeling your stomach twist.

Bucky remained rooted to the spot, fiddling with the wrapping paper hesitantly before he ripped it open.

It was a first edition copy of 'The Grapes of Wrath', excellent condition. The subject of Bucky's favorite books came up after your first encounter when you saw him reading 'The Hobbit'.

"Is it about angry grapes?" you had asked, confused when Bucky laughed. He promised he would buy it and lend you the book one day.

Bucky's ground his teeth, every cell in his body telling him to go after you. But, for all the reasons he had told himself since the day of your confession, he made himself stay put.

Bucky had missed out on a lot in his life since falling off that train in the Austrian Alps. His whole trajectory had changed, and instead of growing old in his century, he found himself in the 21st, thrust into the modern world and navigating his new life.

He always thought, back in the 40s, that he would meet a nice girl and settle down after the war. He would live in a cozy, tiny home and have three kids, maybe four.

He missed out on that and more - though he had been quite the playboy back in his time, he had never experienced true love. He had never met that one woman he would die for.

Bucky had commented off-hand once on how lucky Steve was to meet Peggy before he went into the ice. Steve had reminisced on that with a bittersweet smile, before telling him, you’ll find your Peggy.

Falling in love with you had blindsided him. At first, he viewed you as a friend, a sweet girl who he grew to trust.

Then, he realized that he was slowly being drawn to you, like magnets he couldn’t pull apart. He realized that everything you did was endearing, that you occupied his thought space all the time, that having you around helped him feel comfortable, safe.

You were young, determined, and so innocent. You were somebody who deserved someone as pure and good as you. You weren’t his Peggy - you were something more, so unique and unapologetically you, and he wanted you as his person so badly.

But you deserved someone good. Somebody like Steve, who stood for the best values and only acted for the good of mankind. Not someone morally-gray and jaded like Bucky.

He wanted someone to spend his life with, for sure. If he couldn’t have his idyllic life in the post-war period, then he still wanted to find a partner in this new, still-unfamiliar time.

You fit that profile. He wanted you.

But he would never forgive himself if he weighed you down with his sins.

When you told him you loved him, his heart had broke. He wanted to tell you how much he valued you, how he dreamed of kissing you. He wanted to be a part of your happy ending.

But how much of a happy ending could he really give you? Could he give you children, knowing they would always be in danger from his enemies? Could he give you a wedded, domestic life, when all he knew was how to fight and cause pain?

He had to make his sacrifice for the greater good. Even if he had to crush you, he had to do it.

Someone like Bucky wasn’t supposed to get happy endings. You were, but just not with him.

You couldn't stand to be around him anymore. It was affecting your concentration, your work. It reached a breaking point two weeks after Bucky's birthday, when you requested to speak to Steve privately.

"You want to leave?" he asked, his face appalled.

You nodded curtly. "You’ll still be able to contact me, if you really need me. But I don't think I can stay here anymore."

Steve didn't look as confused at your profession as you expected.

"Is this about Bucky?"

You cringed. God, did he know about everything that happened?

"I don't know what's going on between the two of you," he clarified quickly, "but I can see that something happened. He's not the same, either."

"I'm not in a good place right now," you admitted shamefully. "I'm not saying that this is goodbye forever, Steve. But for my own sanity, I think I need a break."

Steve heaved a sigh. "I know you wouldn't ask unless you really needed it. And you don't need my permission, you know."

"I know," you said, giving him a small smile. "But I just wanted to let you know that I'll be here whenever the team needs it. Emergencies only," you joked. "But for now I think I'll get out of here. Maybe go upstate."

"Have you told him?"

"Don't need to," you said, defensiveness creeping into your voice.

"I think he would like to know."

“We’re not really on speaking terms,” you said bluntly.

Steve clasped a heavy hand on your shoulder. He knew better than to argue. He was sure you’d figure things out for yourself, anyway. “I’ll miss you.”

Now that you had completed the professional courtesy, you decided that you would leave in a few days. You still had some matters to wrap up, and to say goodbye to your teammates. You loved them, and they deserved a proper farewell.

"This isn't goodbye," Nat had said sternly, pulling you into a tight hug. Her voice was quiet and soft in your ear as she whispered, "If you need me, I'll be there."

You squeezed her tight, threatening to tear up. "Thank you."

"Keep your ass out of trouble," Clint had said, winking at you. “And check in with us now and again, yeah?”

Sam was clearly unhappy about everything. And he definitely noticed that you had picked a day to make your announcement when Bucky was conveniently away from the compound.

"Am I gonna see you again?" he asked, raising his eyebrows after you'd embraced.

"Couldn't get rid of me if you tried," you promised, punching his arm.

You retired to your bedroom that night, sure that Bucky would hear the news later after he came back. You kept your phone switched off and door locked for the rest of the evening, making sure the your belongings were packed.

Just past midnight, you crept out of your room, duffel bag over your shoulder. You made your way through the compound, down the floors into the underground garage. Bucky's motorbike wasn't there - he still hadn't returned.

You were grateful. You climbed into your car, and tossed your belongings in the back. You had to stop thinking about him - if you let yourself do it for too long, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to go.

With a heavy heart, you left this chapter of your life behind.

Your phone rang for days afterwards. Missed calls, voicemails left unanswered, texts left unread.

You couldn't bear to face him. If you pretended he didn't exist, maybe it would ease the pain.

You didn't know where you were driving to. You simply knew you had to get as far away as possible, clear your head. You were at a crossroads, and you needed to pull yourself together, but for now you would allow yourself to wallow.

You had been spending each night in a different motel. Wake up, drive, sleep. Wake up, drive, sleep. You wanted to put as much distance between yourself and Bucky Barnes as possible.

You had no idea how you had gotten everything so wrong. Did you really misinterpret the signals? Was every intimate moment between the two of you simply platonic?

You didn't want to feel so beat up over a guy, but he wasn't just any guy. He was the first man you had ever loved.

Life was funny, sometimes. You supposed that you couldn't always expect happy endings.

You kicked open the door of the latest motel, a bag of takeout in your hands. You noticed the dark, shadowy figure on your bed in an instant, your hand sliding to the dagger sheathed in your belt on reflex. Before your brain even had time to catch up with what you were seeing, you had aimed and launched it, shocked when a familiar voice rang out.

"Calm down, tiger," he rasped. The bedside light flicked on, and Bucky was suddenly there, twirling your dagger between his fingers. He tossed it to the side, letting it land on the carpet with a soft thud.

A week had passed since you last saw him. Seeing him sent an electrifying jolt straight through your core.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. You were shocked, but your first thought was that something terrible had happened. "Is it the team? Are they in danger?"

Bucky looked irate, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His hands were knotted together, worry hiding beneath his anger.

"I've been calling you for days. You left without saying goodbye. Hell, you left without saying anything." His voice was gruff and accusatory.

That gave you the answer you needed. The team were fine, and he was simply here to rant. You felt the initial shock of his appearance wear off.

He stood up and stepped towards you, and that was when you noticed the state he was in. His usually close shaven beard was slightly unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked worn out.

"Yeah," you retorted, "I kind of did that on purpose."

"Why?" His voice was a whisper. "Why would you do that?"

You were exasperated. You did not envision yourself having to explain your decisions to him. His appearance both delighted and depressed you. It was tiring, having these two sides battle each other whenever you saw him. Your love for him versus his heavy rejection.

"I can't be around you anymore," you admitted, your voice tight. "I thought I could, but I can't."

"Why the hell not?" he pressed stubbornly.

"You know why!" you cried out. "Why are you doing this to me, Bucky? I told you I loved you and, okay, you don't love me. Fair enough," you said, frustrated. "But to go out of your way to hurt me? Remind me that I'm nothing more than a friend? Bring other girls back to the compound so you can fuck them?"

Bucky flinched. "I never - "

"No!" you shouted, cutting him off. "You don't get to do this, Bucky." You felt wetness on your cheeks, and realized you were crying. It only made you more exasperated. "You don't get to tear my heart out of my chest and come here when I've been trying to get away from you."

He stormed up to you, hands reaching for you, but you batted him away.

"Don't!" Your hand hit his chest, barely moving him an inch. "Just stop! Please!" Your voice broke, and you shook with tears. The dam had broke, and seeing him here was just too much.

"Please don't cry," he pleaded, his face anguished.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice breaking. "What do you want from me?"

Bucky looked so upset, taking another step forward, but you walked backwards until you hit the door.

"You don't want me," you exclaimed through your tears. You needed him to understand how much pain you were in just by seeing him. "You can't be here, Bucky. I can't look at you and remember how you just don't love me back."

Bucky pulled you into his arms, tightening them when you struggled. He was stronger than you - you had no choice but to become a prisoner against his chest. You were crying as you had many times before in his hold, but this time it felt different. Your heart was pounding and you were aching, wanting to melt into him but also aware of the anger and sadness flaring within you. It was torture.

"It hurts too much," you managed to get out through your wailing sobs.

He didn't say anything until you stilled. He let you cry, your tears soaking through his shirt. Your quiet sniffs and hiccups accompanied his words when he finally spoke.

"You weren't supposed to appear in my life," he said, his voice tense. "You weren't supposed to be so wonderful, so comforting. You made me feel so safe."

You didn't say anything, confusion rendering you temporarily speechless.

"I thought I was fine on my own. I've been a soldier all my life, just focusing on fighting everyone else's battles. And then I met you."

You had no idea where this was going as Bucky's arms seemed to tighten all the more around you.

"It felt...strange, how I wanted to kiss you. How I wanted you there, next to me, all the time.”

You looked up at Bucky, really taking in his exhausted eyes, his chapped lips, the way he was looking at you now with an exquisite softness.

"I felt like I was doing something wrong. I thought - I don't want to - ruin you," he said. "You are so young and have your whole future ahead of you and I didn't want to bring you down with all of me. My history, my demons, my baggage. And I ended up hurting you."

A spark of hope appeared, wanting to ignite into a flame. You expelled a shaky breath.

"Do you love me?" you asked, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to hold you.

He nodded, his words like velvet. "How could I not? Of course I love you."

Of course, he said. But your insecurities prevailed, and you shook your head.

"You did a good job of hiding it," you said sadly.

Bucky closed his eyes regretfully.

"I know. I don't know what I was thinking. I thought if I could push you away, make you fall out of love with me, you would find someone worthy."

"What makes you think you're not worthy?" you retorted.

"Some days, I feel like no amount of good deeds I do can redeem me," he murmured.

"Bucky," you said slowly. "You're one of the best men I've ever known. Your heart is so kind."

"I'm sorry." He grasped one of your hands, brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Part of me thought you would shrug, get over it and find someone else."

Your smile was full of sorrow. "Then you have no idea how much you truly mean to me.

Bucky cupped the side of your face. Seeing you in this state had truly been a wake up call for him. When he found out you had left the compound, all his resolve had crumbled. He realized that he had hurt you so deeply that you couldn’t physically be around him. That was when he knew that the connection between the two of you was too rare to let it slip, when he felt an immense pain at the idea of never seeing you again.

Having you in front of him now was heartbreaking. Your eyes were puffy, and you looked tired and so frail. He loved you, and you were supposed to take care of the people you loved. He swore on his life that he would dedicate himself to showing you what you really meant to him.

"When you asked me what I'm doing here," Bucky said, a hopeful smile on his face, "It's to tell you that I love you, so much. And I'm here to take you home."

You nodded, fresh tears filling your eyes, except this time they were borne from happiness.

"Let's go."

He had already packed your belongings for you, you realized when he released you to hoist your bags over his shoulder, which he had placed by the door. He paused, slipping his hand into his pocket and placing a tiny kid-sized carton into your hand. "Almost forgot. For the journey."

Chocolate milk.

You threw your arms around him, jumping to hook your legs around his hips. He dropped your bags as you kissed him, his hands reaching to support your thighs as he returned it with equal passion.

"This room is paid for," you gasped into his mouth. "Let's go back tomorrow."

He was silent when he walked back to fall onto the bed with you on top of him, his mouth never once leaving yours.

[metamorphesque]

poems I loved in december

Paruyr Sevak, "To Go Mad"

Anne Sexton, "December 18th"

Ted Hughes, "Lovesong"

Chris Abani, "Ritual is Journey"

Franz Wright, "Untitled"

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, "A Prayer"

Willie Perdomo, "Maybe Under Some Other Sky"

Osip Mandelstam,'You took away all the oceans and all the room', (translated by Clarence Brown and W. S. Merwin)

Osip Mandelstam, "Tenderer than tender" transl. D. Smirnov-Sadovsky

Richard Siken, "Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out"

Michael Miller, "December"

Vladimir Mayakovsky, "A Cloud in Trousers"

Mohja Kahf, “Most Wanted”

Louise Glück, "Winter Recipes from the Collective"

Vladimir Mayakovsky, "Listen"

Fear, Czesław Miłosz, Robert Hass (translator)

Hope, Czesław Miłosz, Robert Hass (translator)

Charles Bukowski, "a vote for the gentle light"

Marina Tsvetaeva, "I Opened My Veins" (translated by Elaine Feinstein)

[a-reverii]

▸ REVERII'S DECEMBER FIC RECS

━━ ✰ THE WIZARDING WORLD.

sirius black

aren't promises meant to be broken? ⇢ @perpetuallydaydreaming

style. ⇢ @bealovesmarauders

his favorite neighbour. ⇢ @kquil

attention. ⇢ @/kquil

right where i want to be. ⇢ @appocalipse

the dark night. ⇢ @bruisedboys

oblivious. ⇢ @bitesizedgremlin

regulus black

hidden messages in foreign languages. ⇢ @applebutter-and-cinnamon

vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche. ⇢ @/deactivated

his last letter. ⇢ @hamlets-ak

tricks and charms. ⇢ @curseofaphrodite

across the sea. ⇢ @/curseofaphrodite

the night we met. ⇢ @/curseofaphrodite

frosted practices. ⇢ @henqtic

remus lupin

by tired hands. ⇢ @luveline

skirts. @flwrbo

not so secret admirer. @/kquil

you're losing me. @astonishment

never his. @weasleykisses

wherever you stray i follow. @mediocre-daydreams

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

[jilychallenge]

... And now for something completely different....

A little special thing for the last month of the year, a jilychallenge BINGO.

How to play?

Write, draw, paint, make a moodboard, instagram, etc, based on these prompts and cross them off your bingocard (be sure to tag us ;-) AND/OR

Fill your bingocard with jilychallenge fic/art recs that you feel fit the prompts, (check out the collections on ao3 or scroll away on our blog - happy hunting;-) please be sure to send some Holiday cheer to the authors/creators.

[imtryingbuck]

Who’s cutting onions? Because I’m crying.

“I panicked that day. It was the best night of my life and I was so scared at how dependent I was. You’re my weakness, I’d do anything for you, you know that don’t you?” his voice was getting more and quieter by the second. 

“Your my sunshine”😭😭

This was so beautifully written and so heartbreaking🤍

Was, Wasn’t.

Summary: He was never really yours anyway.

Warnings: a lot of angst and swearing, death, implied smut

A/N: wooo it took me two days to write this. this my entry for @whothehellisbella‘s Cool Times Summer Jamz Mix Writing Challenge!  My song was Final Song by MØ and I hope I did it justice

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

You never noticed how the grey clouds highlighted the sky.  How through their shadows and darker outlines only made the white, the purity, stand out. It was an odd thing to notice while your final breaths escaped you.

The rubble that had fallen on you had no effect anymore. Your body had become numb a long time ago, something you assumed was the last gift the world presented you with. Making sure your death wasn’t that painful. 

You were aware of the body next to you, groaning and crying out in pain, in despair for some kind of help, but that’s all it was. Despair.

He, too, had been there with you. He, too, had been under the rubble, but his strength prevented him from giving up and you forced yourself not to think about how much it hurt. His lower body was probably as crushed as yours was, but all you could do was watch the sky. 

All you could do was watch the sky.

Keep reading

[peachcitt]

from: thirteen by @anna-scribbles

art by me :)

start from the beginning // read the november chapter // read the most recent chapter (january)

hey listen. look me in my eyes. have you read thirteen by anna scribbles. i think you need to read thirteen by anna scribbles. i think if you want your life to be forever changed you need to read thirteen by anna scribbles. i think if you are a person who is breathing and alive you need to read thirteen by anna scribbles. thank you

[targarrus]

💜💜💜

[hexonthepeach]

Do you have nct fic rec? Or anything you are currently reading or have read?

i haven't been able to read much nct fic lately since writing/editing has been sucking up all my free time outside of work, and lately i've been reading more ateez (yunho just has a grip on me) but there are a few authors i'll drop everything for so here's the latest i've read from them/started reading but haven't gotten around to reviewing:

@sluttyten - you in my arms (haechan voyeurism/exhibitionism, haven't had the strength to read the last chapter but absolutely a work of art in terms of longform storytelling and mixed perspectives)

@ncteez - expert adversary (taeil office au, adorable read i went down a taeil hole lately for obvious reasons)

@jnnul - ric flair drip (jaehyun college au, this was so fun/fresh/flirty i enjoyed it even though campus/frat stuff is kind of low interest for me)

@yutaholic - there will be blood (yuta assassin/thriller vibes, beware major character death warning. luna writes villain!johnny the best, control is my all-time favorite fic in this vein, it haunts me, i will never be over it)

anything omegaverse, anything johnny, anything at all from @neopuppy, like that's the GOAT there, another godtier johnny fic that lives in my head is dumb, dumb dilf johnny with an age gap ilu i've been meaning to revisit

also i accept recs if you ever want to send anything my way!

[imtryingbuck]

The misunderstandings. The fluff. The smut. The pining. I love this so much💞

And the gifs at the end = added bonus😍

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

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

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

word count: 10.8k

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

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

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

Holy Shit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shut up, punk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t serious.” 

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

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

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew better though. 

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was worrisome. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So...?”

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

“Yes, very.”

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

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

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

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

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

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

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

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

Happy one month!

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

Happy one month.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“What? When?”

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

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

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“You forgot your flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I trust you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re very good at this.”

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know if I-“

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

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

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

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

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

“What? Until when?”

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

“Do you know what she has?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*smack*

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

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

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[obstinaterixatrix]

An older lady finds interest & joy in beauty & make-up to help her cope with the loss of her husband.

happy femslash february, here's a 3 volume series of grandma yuri. in fact I'm quite sure it's the only multi-volume yuri that centers around Actual Old Women

the summary frames this as the main character coping with the loss of her husband, but… he was a bit of an asshole! and her memories of him are a little ambivalent. rather than a story about grief, it’s more about freedom and self-expression—with help from someone who’s more used to being blunt and outspoken

I really like that it’s a story about self-discovery; basically a coming-of-age for an 80 year old. there’s a lot that the main character has had to repress, or just never really had the chance to explore

there’s only two chapters translated in english so far, but please. give them a read. open your heart to grandma yuri.

[reineydraws]

doodles for a spiderman yaku au! and a fic based on the first comic :)

[wangxianficrecs]

Helping Yourself by nirejseki

Helping Yourself

by nirejseki (@robininthelabyrinth)

Not rated, 1k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian leaves the Burial Mounds with a brand new power, but the resentful energies have so corroded his mind that he's forgotten - many things. The name of the cultivator in purple, for example. The reason they hate their enemies so much. All he knows is how he feels about them. And there's this one cultivator in white that makes him feel - something else. Wei Wuxian is pretty sure he knows what that something is. Kay's comments: A super interesting AU in which Wei Wuxian returns from his three months in the Burial Mounds unable to remember the people around him while still remembering the feelings he has for them, which leads to some heart-breaking and some fun conclusions! Excerpt: There was only one problem. At first he’d thought the one in white was the one in purple’s friend – they spent an awful lot of time huddled together trying to think of ways to cure him – but eventually it’d been explained to him that they weren’t. In fact, the one in purple said that the one in white had previously hated him. Wei Wuxian didn’t like that. He had no idea why he didn’t like that, but he didn’t. “You’re not allowed to hate me,” he told the one in white, cornering him one day and poking him in the chest. “You’re not. You need to like me. You understand? You can’t dislike me.” The one in white blinked. He had very long eyelashes, and pretty golden irises beneath them. “I don’t dislike Wei Ying,” he said. “Good,” Wei Wuxian said, satisfied.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, memory loss, temporary amnesia, short-term memory loss, propositions, hurt/comfort, hopefuly ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[imtryingbuck]

This is everything. I loved this so much

🍂 a shelter in the storm 🍂

pairing: park ranger!steve rogers x female reader

summary: a handsome park ranger saved you and offered you a place to stay for the night after you got lost on your hike to look at the fall leaves, but when you're woken in the night, you find more than the fireplace is heating up his log cabin.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut with lots of fluff, voyeurism, accidental voyeurism, masturbation (f and m), mutual masturbation, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, some bdsm dynamics, consent checks, piv sex, bareback sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart), aftercare, multiple orgasms, first meetings, strangers to lovers

word count: 8.7k

a/n: ok here's the next fic for a cozy steve rogers autumn—this time with park ranger!steve rogers!! i'm posting it second but it was actually the last of the fics i wrote, so i was purposefully aiming for a premise that was especially autumnal, and i thought a park ranger au would be fun to try out! i took some inspiration for park ranger!steve from the book break the rules by roxie noir, insofar as steve built his own cabin for himself and he isn't a law enforcement ranger. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy park ranger!steve rogers!!

a cozy steve rogers autumn masterlist

You thought, at first, it was the thunderstorm beyond the walls of the cozy log cabin that had roused you from sleep, the lightning streaking across the sky through the dense foliage of the autumn forest and the rumbling thunder dragging you from your peaceful rest. You were swathed in warm flannel blankets, and a fire was crackling in the grate of the bedroom, creating a gentle ambiance amid the storm still raging in the night.

It took you a long moment to remember that you didn’t have a fireplace in your bedroom at home, nor was your bed covered in flannel blankets. Your eyes fluttered open with confusion as you looked around the vaguely familiar room, taking in the log cabin walls, wooden furnishings and masculine decor. The flannel blankets under which you were buried were a burnt orange and forest green plaid that matched the warm tones of the room, making it feel extra cozy with the fire and the storm outside.

The events that led to you sleeping in a strange cabin came back to you slowly—the park ranger named Steve Rogers who’d found you in the forest after you’d gotten yourself lost, the offer he’d made to let you stay the night in his cabin because the oncoming thunderstorm was likely to wash out the roads down the mountain and the way he’d insisted you take the bedroom while he’d sleep on the couch. With a wince at your own overconfidence, you also remembered the ill-advised decision you’d made to take a day trip out of the city to go hiking by yourself so you could take in the fall foliage along the trails of the national park.

Sympathetic embarrassment flooded through you as you remembered the way you’d stumbled over your words as you’d explained to the unbelievably handsome park ranger that you’d gotten lost coming down the mountain, and didn’t have any service on your phone to pull up a map or call for help. You pulled the flannel blankets up over your face as if you could hide from the memory of Steve calmly, and more kindly than you probably deserved as someone who’d gone hiking without a physical map, told you that you were on the other side of the mountain than where you’d started.

At that exact, unfortunate moment, you’d both heard the distant rumble of thunder, and Steve had led you quickly to his truck. There, he’d grimly explained the trouble of the storm washing out the roads and making them unsafe to drive on. He’d offered to let you stay with him at his home, just outside the boundaries of the national park forest, and given you his satellite phone to call someone to tell them where you were and that you were safe. When you’d gotten your best friend on the line, Steve insisted you give them his badge number and address to make you and your friend feel more at ease with you staying with a stranger. Once you’d ended the call, Steve had driven you to his home, a cozy little log cabin he’d built for himself.

Which was how you’d ended up buried under the blankets in the only bed Steve had, the fire he’d built to keep you warm burning low in the grate and the thunderstorm continuing into the early hours of the morning. Despite only knowing Steve a short time, there was something about the park ranger that made you feel safe and at ease in his presence. It certainly helped that he took great care to make you feel comfortable, from building the fire in your bedroom, to giving you clean clothes and letting you use his shower. He’d even cooked you dinner, before bidding you goodnight while you retired to the bedroom with its lock on the door. 

His kindness and respectfulness only made you feel worse for the inappropriate thoughts and feelings you’d begun to have toward your host. Steve was most likely acting out of a sense of chivalry by opening his home to you and giving you a safe, warm place to stay. But that didn’t stop your mind from running wild with fantasies about the handsome park ranger. 

Steve had looked capable and authoritative in his park ranger uniform, but when you’d gotten to his cabin, he’d stripped out of the shirt as he’d prepared to make a fire in the living room. The move had left him clad in only a white t-shirt tucked into his uniform pants, the soft-looking cotton pulled tight across his pecs and the bulges of his biceps. While you’d watched him crouch in front of the fireplace, admiring his ass while he wasn’t paying attention to you, you’d imagined him stripping out of the rest of his clothes, baring his broad, golden chest, his thick thighs, and whatever he was hiding in those tight pants of his.

Throughout Steve working on the fire, giving you a tour of the cabin and cooking dinner, all you could do was try not to stare at him and hold up your end of the conversation. He’d kept you talking for most of the evening, asking you about your job, your friends and family and your favorite books and movies. It had helped to distract you and make you comfortable, but whenever there was a lull in the conversation, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what it would feel like to have the park ranger with the broad shoulders toss you around in his flannel-covered bed. 

As you lay in that exact bed in the middle of the night, breathing in the faint smell of him—like evergreen trees and fresh air—your straying thoughts only got worse. All you could think about was what may have happened if Steve hadn’t been such a gentleman and had insisted on sharing his bed together. Maybe you would’ve woken up with the park ranger curled around your back, the bulge in his gray sweatpants wedged against your ass. Or maybe you would’ve draped yourself over him in your sleep and woken to his rumbling voice murmuring encouragement while you humped against his tree trunk thigh.

In the quiet between crashes of thunder, you heard a distant sound in the cabin that had you immediately growing more aware of your surroundings as your body heated beneath the flannel blankets. The sound wasn’t like a crackling fire or the settling of the wood. If you weren’t mistaken, it had sounded like a moan, and the distance it had come from made you think its source was the living room where Steve was sleeping on the couch.

Distantly, you realized it was the sound that had initially woken you, and you wondered why Steve would be making such a sound in the middle of the night. Your thoughts wanted to stray to the filthiest explanation your mind could come up with, but you firmly stopped that train of thought in its tracks. Instead, you clung to the edges of the blankets with desperate fingers and strained your ears to hear the sound again while your core throbbed between your thighs.

After long moments of hearing nothing, you swallowed and realized your throat was dry. Suddenly, you felt parched and in desperate need of a glass of water. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you slipped from beneath the blankets on Steve’s bed and tiptoed to the door of his room. It certainly wasn’t that you wanted to investigate the debauched sound that had woken you.

Easing the door open, you were so focused on staying quiet that you didn’t even consider putting more clothes on. Instead, you crept down the hallway towards the living room in nothing more than one of Steve’s flannel shirts and some panties. The shirt was long enough that it mostly covered your ass anyway, so if he happened to be up and you happened to run into him while you were getting water, you were mostly decent. Mostly. 

Another groan came from the living room, sounding much less muffled than when you were in the bedroom, and you froze in the shadowed hallway. Heat bloomed through your body, settling heavily in your core and your breasts, making your nipples pucker with arousal. Your reaction to the sound even curled your toes against the cold wooden floor while you bit your lip against a soft whimper of your own. Before you could second-guess your instincts, you were creeping closer to where the hallway fed into the open space of the living room, kitchen and dining area at the front of the cabin.

As you moved closer, you saw Steve lounging in the center of the couch, facing the fireplace in front of him. His head was tossed back, his eyes closed and his face twisted with pleasure. You leaned against the wall for balance and pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to see over the back of the couch and followed the line of his body down to his lap, where you discovered the source of his groans. 

One of Steve’s big hands was fisted around his thick cock, his sweatpants shoved down to his thighs and his shirt pushed up over his abs, his disheveled clothes framing his hard length perfectly. The firelight licked over the shaft of Steve’s cock, making the ridges of his veins stand out in sharp contrast. He was so hard that even from the hallway, you could see the way he twitched, precum beading from the tip of his length. 

Desire, hot and merciless, rolled through your body, making your nipples tighten into stiff peaks beneath the soft flannel of Steve’s shirt. You felt yourself getting wet and clenched your thighs together against the insistent ache building in your core to have something buried in your empty hole. You knew you should turn away, give Steve his privacy. After all, you’d discovered the source of the mysterious sound. But instead, you held your breath and inched further toward the end of the hall, determined to get a better look at Steve pleasuring himself.

Steve’s eyes were still screwed shut as he stroked his cock slowly, almost torturously like he was trying to draw out his pleasure as long as possible. The sight was so deliriously hot, you half believed you were dreaming somehow. But then he groaned again and the filthy sound filling the room made your body zing in response, wetness pooling in your panties and your tits aching with the need for attention. 

Every time Steve’s cock twitched while you watched him, you felt an answering clench in your pussy, your cunt throbbing with the desire to have him inside you. He had such a perfect cock, you almost wanted to sigh dreamily looking at it. It was thick and veiny, and long enough that it’d be a struggle to take him all the way inside you, but you were more than willing to take on that particular challenge. 

No matter that you knew you were treading upon Steve’s private moment, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the picture he painted—his large body draped over the couch cushions, the warm glow of the fire casting him in golden light and dark shadows. He was beautiful, desire incarnate, and you couldn’t stop looking at him, your gaze hungrily taking in the way the muscles in his arms flexed with every stroke, his abs contracting when his hips bucked lightly into his fist. As you watched, Steve’s adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, the park ranger biting off a groan that rumbled in his chest. 

It wasn’t a conscious decision—your mind was too fogged with sleep and arousal to think very hard anyway—but one minute your fingers were twisted in the hem of Steve’s shirt you’d worn to bed, and the next they were slipping inside your panties. You found yourself dripping wet and had to suck in a silent breath to keep your own sounds of pleasure to yourself. You rubbed your clit slowly, matching the speed of Steve’s hand stroking his cock, trying to draw out the moment just as he seemed to be doing. 

For long minutes, you stayed like that, standing on tiptoes and pressed against the wall of the hallway to watch Steve pleasure himself while you rubbed your clit to the sight. Then, you were shocked when a single word tumbled from Steve’s lips on a rumbling groan—that word being your name. 

You tried to press a hand over you mouth in time to muffle your gasp so you wouldn’t be caught, but you didn’t know if you were successful. Even if you weren’t, it didn’t seem like Steve noticed because he never faltered in his slow, steady rhythm as he continued jerking himself off. Meanwhile, your body felt like it was going haywire with the knowledge that the handsome park ranger was stroking his cock to the thought of you. Your pussy throbbed desperately, your tits ached and your entire body wanted to be pressed against Steve, his big cock pushing deep into your cunt while he moaned your name again.

The energy in the room shifted slightly, but you were concentrating too hard on Steve’s fist and cock and your fingers on your clit to notice that the park ranger’s eyes had flickered open. Without realizing it, you’d edged too far out of the shadows of the hallway and into the light cast by the fire. It was an even bigger shock than hearing your name from Steve’s lips when he addressed you directly.

“You can keep watching from there if you want, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice low and rough with arousal. His hand slowed a little, gliding up and down his hard, thick length as he went on. “But you’re welcome to come closer if you want a better look.”  

Your gasp of surprise was loud in the quiet room, overtaking the soft crackling of the fire and the distant booms of thunder. Flicking your gaze up to Steve’s face, you found he’d turned his head toward the hallway, so he was looking at you with heated blue eyes over the back of the couch. As you stared dumbly at his amused expression, his eyes dropped and you watched as they darkened even further when he discovered your hand was shoved in your panties.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Steve rasped, his gaze meeting yours again, a new urgency in his voice. “Let me see what your fingers are doing in those cute panties.”

You pulled your hand guiltily out of your panties and hid your glistening fingers behind you even as your feet carried you into the living room, walking around the couch to stand near Steve. For a moment, you stood there uncertainly, your eyes flicking from Steve’s cock to his face to the fire glowing in the grate, unsure where to look. The park ranger watched you for a moment, his eyes trailing over your bare legs and up to the hem of his shirt, a gentle, pleased smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“You look pretty in my shirt, sweetheart,” Steve said in a low, gravelly voice. His praise helped to settle your nerves a little and you met his gaze for a moment, smiling shyly while your fingers toyed with the edge of the flannel where it fluttered around your upper thighs. An answering smile spread slowly across Steve’s face. “Will ya take your panties off and sit down for me?” he asked, softly patting the couch cushion beside him. 

The couch was a massive piece of furniture, taking up most of the space in front of the fireplace. But with its overstuffed brown leather cushions, it looked warm and inviting. Steve had made it look even cozier with blankets thrown over the back and three or four throw pillows positioned to each side. The park ranger himself was the most alluring part, though, his blue eyes fixed on you and a hopeful smile on his face.

Eager to join Steve on the couch, you hooked your fingers in your panties and pushed them down your legs quickly, letting them pool at your feet. You stepped out of them and slid onto the couch beside Steve, facing him. You lay back into the pillows leaning against the arm of the couch before swinging your legs up and, after a brief moment of hesitation, parted your thighs to give Steve a look at your pussy. 

He sucked in a sharp breath, his hand squeezing the base of his cock hard enough that it twitched and more precum pearled at the tip. It began to roll down his thick length, and Steve’s fist gathered his arousal and spread it around the head of his cock, making him glisten enticingly in the firelight. You watched in rapture, before glancing up at Steve’s face and then you couldn’t decide where you wanted to look more—at his perfect cock or at the hungry desire etched into his expression.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” Steve rumbled, so low you could barely hear him over the crackling of the fire and the thunderstorm beyond the cabin. “And so wet—is your pretty pussy wet for me, sweetheart?” 

Biting your lip against a naughty smile, you nodded, spreading your thighs a little wider. “I heard you,” you whispered, glancing down at Steve’s cock that he was still stroking in his fist. Your fingers teased down your thighs, trailing closer to the place where you were aching to be touched. 

“And it turned you on, baby?” Steve asked when you didn’t go on, a grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Your pussy got all wet from the sound of me jerking off?” When you nodded again, he groaned, his head falling back against the couch while his eyes fluttered closed. When you sucked in a sharp little breath, it caught Steve’s attention and he looked back at you. “Show me, sweetheart—let me see just how wet you got for me.”

Steve’s warm, rumbling voice and the desire in his tone made you feel more confident, almost bold. You slid one of your hands between your thighs and used your fingers to spread your pussy lips, giving Steve a good look at your drenched folds, throbbing clit and clenching hole. Steve groaned again at the sight, a sound almost like he was being tortured. His eyes nearly closed with pleasure, but he kept them cracked open so he could stare hungrily at your most intimate place.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” he praised in a low, growly voice, his eyes intent on your pussy. “Show daddy your pretty hole and sweet button.” You gasped at what he called himself, your hips squirming as you felt your heartbeat pulsing in your core, more arousal leaking from your pussy. Steve grinned, his gaze shimmering in the firelight as he caught your eye. “Mm you like that, don’t you, baby? Like the idea of calling me daddy—I can see your hole clench for me when I say it.”

He was right, and you’d felt it, too, the way your inner walls had clamped down around nothing when he’d called himself ‘daddy’. Your breathing was already heavier, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Steve’s flannel shirt as desire burned through your body. Steve kept staring at you, his blue eyes molten with hunger, and you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle on the couch. He seemed to know the effect he was having on you, because Steve’s mouth quirked in a small smirk.

“Say it, baby—let me hear you say it.” His order was gentled by the warmth in his tone, the sound of his rumbling voice sending more heat spiralling through your body. Steve’s voice went even deeper with his next words. “Call me daddy.” 

You were helpless to the park ranger’s sweet command and you parted your lips to obey. “D-daddy,” you whispered, your tongue tripping over the word you’d never said in such a context before. But you instantly liked the way it felt, the dirtiness of it. You smiled, saying it again, “Daddy.” Your eyes went heavy-lidded with arousal, but your pleased expression was nothing compared to the look of pure, ravenous desire on Steve’s face.

“Play with your pussy, baby,” Steve said in a lust-soaked voice, his hand still stroking his cock slowly while he watched the juncture between your thighs. “Show daddy how you made yourself feel good while you were spying on him.” 

The slight recrimination in his tone made you hotter and you eagerly did as he said, using the fingers of your hand not holding yourself spread open to tease circles around your clit. The pleasure and desire pounding through your body loosened your lips and you whimpered, “I’m sorry, daddy,” as you pouted up at Steve. “I didn’t mean to spy on you, I was just getting some water and I—” You dipped a finger into your dripping hole, making your breath catch and halting your words. You gathered your wetness from the source and rubbed it around your clit, making yourself nice and slick.

“You what, baby?” Steve asked in a low, urgent voice. When you opened your eyes and took in the eagerness on his face, you smiled, your eyes trailing down to where his fist was sliding a little faster up and down his length. You matched his speed as you circled your clit and went on.

“I couldn’t help myself, daddy, you’re just so big and hard,” you confessed breathlessly, a hiccuping whimper falling from your lips. “I don’t know what happened, I just got so wet and achy and my button was throbbing.” You flicked your thumb over your clit, dragging a gasp from yourself as pleasure spiked through your body, your hips writhing on the couch. “I just needed to rub my button, daddy, I needed it so bad,” you whined, arching your back up off the pillows and pushing your tits against the soft flannel, the stimulation against your stiff peaks shooting straight to your core.

You didn’t know where your innocent act was coming from—you’d known exactly what you were doing when you’d crept down the hallway of Steve’s cabin to investigate the moaning sound he’d made, and you knew why you’d gotten so aroused. Though you couldn’t necessarily say why you’d thought it was ok to touch yourself while you watched him, you chalked it up to being woken up in the middle of the night and being too turned on to think straight. But it made you hotter to play innocent, and Steve seemed all too happy to indulge you. 

“Good girl, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for daddy,” Steve rasped, his eyes intent on the way your finger was playing with your clit, teasing and then flicking the bundle of nerves to drive your pleasure steadily higher. “You look so sweet rubbing your button, baby.” Steve groaned and he leaned closer to you. He didn’t touch you, though, which only made his closeness all the more frustrating as you pushed yourself toward your peak. “Such a pretty little filthy thing,” Steve rumbled distractedly, his dirty words pouring over you and turning you on more. “With your thighs spread for the nice park ranger who saved you, your greedy fingers playing with your pussy for him.” 

The way Steve was talking, the way he spoke about himself and what you were doing, it was almost too much, adding to the heat building in your core. You gave up trying to match Steve’s slow, torturous pace on his cock and rubbed your needy clit in tight circles, your release approaching fast. “Daddy, daddy,” you whined, your voice rising to the rafters of the cabin in a helpless plea. “I need to come, daddy—can I come, please?” you asked, opening your eyes, not knowing when you’d shut them tight, and looking to Steve. You’d never asked for permission to come before, but you liked giving that control to Steve. 

Steve’s grin was wolfish as he leaned even closer to you, until he was hovering above your lower body, still managing not to touch you. “Come,” he commanded in a raspy voice. He had to stop and clear his throat before he continued on in a deep rumble. “Come for daddy, sweetheart, rub your sweet little button and come while daddy watches your pussy clench around nothing.”

A whine unleashed from your throat when his teasing words reminded you how empty you felt, so you shoved two fingers into your hole, your thumb rubbing furiously at your clit. “Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered, your body writhing on the couch, your hips squirming as you chased your release. You were so lost in the headiness of the moment, by the feeling of Steve’s eyes on your body, that it didn’t take long until the tension coiling in your belly snapped. You came apart on your fingers, your body trembling hard and a whining cry of “Daddy!” escaping your lips.

You fucked yourself through your orgasm, your hips rolling up to meet the thrusts of your fingers, until the aftershocks lessened and you collapsed into the pillows at your back. For a long moment, you simply lay there, your eyes closed as you basked in the feeling of your inner walls still fluttering around your fingers. 

But then Steve’s pleasured grunt brought you back to the present. When you opened your eyes, you found the park ranger stroking his cock furiously, his fist spreading his precum all over his length while he watched you. Steve’s face was contorted with a feral kind of lust as he stared down at your cunt, your pussy sucking on your fingers like it wanted to drag them deeper inside you.

Although you’d felt sated enough a moment before, the sight of Steve’s thick, twitching cock leaking precum over his fist had the fire of your arousal roaring back to life. Before you could think better of it, words were tumbling from your mouth. “Fuck me, daddy,” you said eagerly, excitedly. You opened your thighs wider, pulling your knees up to your chest as you spread your pussy lips open for him. Unable to stop yourself, you rubbed your clit, working yourself up again. “Please, daddy, fuck me!”

Instead of pouncing on you the way you’d wanted, Steve froze at your words. His gaze met yours as his eyes raked over your face, like he was looking for some indication that your plea wasn’t genuine. “Sweetheart,” he grumbled, caution in his tone, but you shook your head frustratedly.

“Want you inside me, daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips and offering your body to the handsome park ranger. It didn’t matter that he was little more than a stranger, you needed him more than you’d ever needed any man before. Steve made you feel safe and desirous at the same time, but he was still staring at you, indecision written all over his face. “I’m so empty, daddy, I need you—I need you, please!” you begged him desperately, your mind scrabbling for what to say to entice him. “I want this, I want you.” You opened your eyes wide, imploring him and trying to show him that you were serious.

“Fucking hell,” Steve bit out, closing his eyes for a moment like he couldn’t bear to look at the image you presented to him. You held your breath as he stayed quiet, the muscle in his jaw popping as he seemed to try to rein himself in. When his eyes finally opened again, his dark blue gaze was glittering with feral desire. “Are you sure, baby?” he asked in a raspy voice, his tone edged with desperation. “Because I’ll fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked,” he said, his soft lips spilling the dirtiest filth you’d ever heard. “I’ll pound that sweet cunt of yours until you’re screaming and creaming all over my cock—I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

You moaned, low and lustfully, at Steve’s words, your hole clenching around nothing as your body begged for him to make his promises a reality. “Please, daddy,” you whispered, hips squirming on the leather couch, your pebbled nipples straining against the flannel shirt you still wore.

“You like that idea, huh?” he asked, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Like the idea of getting fucked so good by the park ranger who found you in the forest?” He shifted closer to you, his hand not wrapped around his cock settling heavily on your knee, his thumb stroking your skin teasingly. “Is this how you’re gonna repay my kindness, sweetheart—gonna let me fuck you so good you’ll be ruined for any other man and you’ll have to beg me to keep you?”

“Jesus, Steve,” you gasped, your body burning up with desire. Your hand began sliding up your thigh, intent on grabbing his wrist and pulling the park ranger down on top of you, but your use of his real name seemed to snap Steve out of the lust haze he’d been in long enough to process what he’d just said.

“Fuck, sorry, sweetheart, was that too far?” he asked, an adorable pink tint rising in his cheeks. You thought he’d been hot before, when he’d been capable and sure of himself. But seeing Steve blush and stop to make sure you were comfortable was something else entirely—and it only made you want him more.

You shook your head dazedly, sitting up enough to grab his shirt in your fist and pull him closer. At the same time, you used his broad body to lift yourself up until you were almost sitting, your arms going around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself anchored as you looked deep into the blushing park ranger’s eyes.

“That was so fucking hot,” you murmured breathlessly, a little awe in your tone. Your eyes darted back and forth across his face, watching as his concerned expression morphed into a self-satisfied smirk. The moment of pause gave you time to remember something you should let him know before you went further. “But you might want to know that I’m on birth control,” you said, smiling as Steve’s face went serious and he nodded. “Also, I’ve been tested since my last partner, and it was clear.”

Steve’s chuckle was a little self-deprecating, the sound so warm, it made you want to laugh lightly along with him. Instead, you waited with bated breath to see what he’d say. “Good to know.” Steve responded, brushing a kiss to your cheek, the stubble on his jaw rasping delicately against your skin. “I’ve been tested, too, I’m good.”

You sighed happily. “Good,” you said, before shooting him a mischievous smile. “So you can fuck me without a condom.” Before you could stop yourself, you bounced excitedly on the couch, eager to feel Steve’s thick cock inside you without anything in the way.

A sound partway between a laugh and a groan escaped Steve as he dropped his head to your shoulder. “You’re so fucking cute, sweetheart,” he rumbled against your skin. His hands dug under your ass, squeezing you hard as he climbed up onto the couch, pushing you down into the pillows as his hips settled between your thighs, his cock resting on your belly. “It’s making me so fucking hard for you.” His cock twitched between your bodies and you giggled.

“Mm if you’re so hard, then maybe you should fuck me, daddy,” you teased sweetly. You raked your nails through Steve’s hair and down the back of his neck, making his dick bounce again while he let out a deep groan. You couldn’t have stopped yourself from smiling smugly even if you’d wanted to. 

Lifting his head, Steve gave you a stern look, though it softened quickly into an expression filled with affection when he saw how proud of yourself you were. “You’re still ok calling me daddy?” he asked, taking a moment to check in with you. “And with me fucking you raw?”

Just to torture him a little, you made a show of thinking for a long minute, tilting your head to the side and tapping a finger against your chin. In reality, it didn’t take you that much time to consider his questions since you were absolutely sure you wanted to call Steve ‘daddy’ and feel his bare cock inside you. When you’d decided he’d waited long enough, you looked back into his eyes and grinned. “Oh, definitely—I’m very ok with all of that.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head a little as he ducked down to nudge his nose against yours. “You keep being so adorable and sexy, and I’m gonna be begging you to let me keep you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his tone filled with genuine tenderness that had your heart thumping unexpectedly hard in your chest. Before you could think of a response, or analyze why your heart had responded like that, Steve closed the distance between your mouths and captured your lips in a kiss.

Your mind went blank but for the fireworks lit by the feel of Steve’s soft mouth on yours. He groaned as he tasted your lips, the sound shooting straight to your dripping core and making you gasp. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, exploring you and taking possession of you at the same time. You clung to Steve’s shoulders, kissing him back eagerly, stroking your tongue against his until you were both moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Steve—daddy, please,” you whined when he broke away to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. Your first release was a distant memory and your need to be filled pulsed in your core, but Steve seemed content to take his time. He sucked on the skin of your neck, working it between his teeth in a way that dragged a broken moan from your mouth. You knew he was going to leave a mark, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. In fact, you liked the idea of being marked as his.

Steve licked at the little hickey he’d left and then kissed down your neck until he reached the top button of the flannel shirt you’d worn to bed. “You look good in daddy’s clothes, baby,” he rumbled, lifting himself up enough to catch your eye, a crooked grin on his face. “But I wanna see all of you.” His hands trailed up your sides until his fingers were teasing the bare skin at the edges of the shirt. 

Once you nodded, Steve made quick work of the buttons on your flannel, parting the shirt and watching inch after inch of your bare skin be revealed to him. “So fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he said in a low, choked voice as he stared reverently down at your body. After he’d looked his fill, his hands pressed to your skin, the callouses on his palms rough against your soft curves while he groped at you like he wanted to learn the landscape of your body.

A whine slipped passed your lips when Steve’s thumbs teased your hardened nipples, your back arching up off the couch. “Daddyyy!” you whined, enjoying his touch but needing so much more to be satisfied. 

“Be patient, baby,” Steve rumbled in response, his hands kneading your tits, his fingers plucking at your nipples. “Daddy’s busy playing with your body.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers and pulled on them until you gasped loudly, the sound devolving into a moan. “Mm, ya like that, sweetheart? Like it when daddy plays with your tits?”

You moaned and nodded, your hands clinging to his shoulders. “Yes, daddy,” you said in a whimpering voice, your hips squirming beneath his heavy cock. You could feel his precum leaking from his tip and sliding down to your belly, which only made you want him inside you more. Reaching between your bodies, you wrapped a hand around his thick girth, delighting in the way he twitched in your fingers when you stroked his cock.

Steve groaned, ducking down and sucking hard on one of your nipples before he glanced up and caught your eye. “That’s it, baby, play with daddy’s cock,” he urged, sucking on your other nipple before letting it fall from his mouth. “You feel how hard I am for you?” You bit your lip and nodded, pumping your fist up and down his hot, hard cock while he kept talking. “It’s ‘cause I was thinking about you—couldn’t stop thinking about burying my fat cock in your tight little cunt. Fuck, baby, I felt like such a filthy perv jerking off to you while you were sleeping in my bed.”

“Daddy,” you whined, using your grip on Steve’s cock to slap his hard length against your clit, sending pleasure shooting through your body. “I was thinking about you, too,” you confessed, pressing his cock between your dripping folds and humping against his hard length, feeling his veins bump against your clit. “Wanted you to fuck me and claim me in your bed, wanted to wake up with your cock still buried in my cunt just to feel you fuck me all over again.” 

“Oh fuck,” Steve cursed, leaning up and reaching behind his head to pull off his shirt. “I gotta fuck you, baby, gotta feel your tight cunt on my cock—jesus fuck.” 

For a moment, you stared at the sight of his broad, muscled chest displayed in front of you, your mouth watering at the need to kiss every inch of his golden skin. Steve looked like a golden god bathed in the glow of the firelight, and you could scarcely bring yourself to touch him, he looked so perfect. But then he was moving and touching you as desperately as you felt. 

Steve’s greedy, grasping fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs and he spread you open even further for his hips to settle between. His big hand wrapped around your smaller one on his cock and he lined up the leaking tip with your dripping hole. There, he paused and caught your eye. His body was tensed as he held himself back, checking in with you one more time before he sank inside you.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, rubbing his cock head through your soaked folds and teasing you further. He held your fingers captive, and your other hand slid up his muscular bicep before clinging to his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Ready, daddy,” you said in your sweetest tone, your voice breathless as you panted with desire. 

Steve grinned and ducked down for a quick kiss, murmuring, “So sweet,” against your lips before pulling away. Then he started pushing his cock into your aching pussy. He was so big, that even the head of him stretched your tight cunt, and you whined loudly at the slight sting. When he paused, his eyes raking over your face, you gasped, “Don’t stop!”

“Greedy girl,” Steve rumbled, but didn’t stop, sinking deeper and deeper in your tight pussy, filling you up to the point that it felt like he was rearranging your body to make room for himself. 

When Steve freed your hand so he could bury himself further inside you, you wrapped both arms around his shoulders and pulled him down on top of you, your fingers digging into his soft hair and clinging to him. Your mouth was open against the stubble on his jaw, the scrape of it feeling delicious against your kiss-swollen lips while you moaned mindlessly. It took your breath away, the exquisite way Steve stretched your pussy on his cock, and you soon grew lightheaded. 

“So good, baby,” Steve murmured against your cheek as he pushed deeper inside you. “Feel so tight and warm and good on my cock—christ.” He bit off his curse as he finally bottomed out inside you, his balls resting heavily against your ass. “Fuck, I could live in your cunt, sweetheart, that’s how good you feel.”

A dazed smile pulled at the corners of your mouth and you hummed happily in acknowledgement. “Mm, feels s’good, daddy,” you whispered, nuzzling his stubbled jaw and pressing a kiss against the roughness.

“Baby,” he cooed in your ear, his hips starting to work in slow, grinding thrusts that set your body on fire with pleasure. “Ya like daddy’s big cock buried in your little pussy, sweetheart?” Your faces were pressed so close together, you could feel him grin against your cheek, which only made your heart thump with something much deeper than lust and affection, but you ignored it for the moment.

“Yes, daddy, I like it so much,” you answered honestly, unable to tell Steve anything but the truth in that moment. Your tongue was loosened by the pleasure you felt and that, paired with your honesty, meant you spilled all your deepest thoughts to the park ranger. “Never wanna leave—want your cock inside me always, Steve, feels s’perfect,” you purred in his ear.

A sound rumbled in Steve’s chest, something like a growl, and he kissed your jaw then leaned up to kiss your mouth softly. “I might hold you to that, sweetheart,” he said softly, his hips moving so his cock pulled out further, both of you reveling in the way your inner walls fluttered around him, trying to draw him back in. “I’ll keep you here in my cabin so I can fill you with my cock all the time—I’ll keep you cock drunk and fucked out.” Steve hips snapped forward, shoving his cock deep enough that you felt him slam against the end of you, wrenching a sharp cry from your lips. “My perfect little fuck toy.” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, loving the idea of being the park ranger’s fuck toy, something for him to use and play with when he came home from work. You inhaled his evergreen and fresh air scent, the smell of Steve’s sex mixed in making you feel dizzy with arousal. “Keep me, daddy, make me yours.”

Steve shuddered in your arms and then he was pounding into you, fucking you hard and fast as he pinned you to the couch with his heavy body. All you could do was lay there and take his cock, feeling every inch of him slide against your sensitive inner walls. Your moans turned to cries as you shouted your pleasure for all the forest to hear, even as the thunderstorm still rumbled in the distance.

“Fuck, ‘m close, baby,” Steve muttered, reaching between your bodies until his thumb found your clit. “Need you to come with me, sweetheart, wanna feel your cunt milking my cock.” He rubbed your sensitive bud in harsh little circles as he fucked you, the skin of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. 

“Daddy, daddy,” you cried on a gasp, your hips bucking up to meet his forceful thrusts. “Don’t stop, daddy, make me come, please!” A keening sound fell from your lips as you writhed beneath Steve’s big body, pleasure coiling tight in every muscle of your body.

“Don’t worry, baby, ‘m not gonna stop,” Steve huffed, his ruthless pace never flagging as he slammed his cock into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Gonna rub your pretty little button until you’re coming on daddy’s fat cock,” he mumbled, fucking you so hard that your body jolted with every thrust, your tits bouncing for him.

You grabbed your tits in your hands and pinched both your nipples, squeezing your eyes shut as the sharp sting of pain sent you tumbling over the edge. You came with a wailing cry, the tension in your body snapping and leaving you helpless under a deluge of pleasure. Wave after wave of bliss overwhelmed you, your arms and legs clinging to Steve while he kept fucking you.

“Good girl, baby, so good, feels s’fucking good,” Steve mumbled, his hips rutting into you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased his own. “I can’t—‘m gonna come, sweetheart, ya ready for daddy’s come?”

“Give it to me, daddy,” you whimpered. Acting on instinct, you pulled Steve close and locked your ankles behind his back so he couldn’t even think about pulling out. 

Steve’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but then the blue of his gaze darkened and he gave you a filthy grin. “That’s my girl,” he growled, pounding into you harder, grinding his cock deep in your hole. “Oh fuck, fuck, baby—I’m coming,” he bit out, his thrusts turning wild until he shoved his cock deep inside you. Steve let out a guttural groan as he came inside you, his cock throbbing as he spilled his seed and coated your insides with his come. “Take it, baby, take it,” he grunted as he pumped you full.

You moaned softly, your still fluttering pussy greedily grasping at Steve’s cock while he unloaded inside you. “Feels so good, daddy, s’good,” you whispered, raking your nails down the back of his head and between his shoulder blades, reveling in the feeling of Steve filling you up. 

When Steve was finally spent, he collapsed to the side, rolling both of you over and wedging you between between his big body and the back of the couch. He hooked your leg over his hip so he could stay buried in your warm cunt while you cupped his face and dragged him in for a kiss. You made out for a while as you both recovered, your kisses turning lazy as you both settled. 

Eventually, you pulled away to take a deep breath, and let it out in a soft, contented sigh, snuggling into Steve’s chest and the pillows of the couch. His fingers idly stroked up and down your spine, and he made a gentle rumbling sound of satisfaction. You nuzzled into his neck, pressing a smile into his skin.

“So I was thinking,” Steve started, pausing to make sure you were still awake and listening. You hummed in encouragement for him to go on, so he did. “I’d like to take you out sometime,” he said, before quickly adding. “On a date. Maybe dinner—if you’d like that.” 

You snorted softly. “Aren’t we a little past the first date stage?” you asked. When Steve didn’t say anything, you pulled back far enough to glance up into his handsome face. It was difficult to read his expression since his back was to the dying fire, but you thought his cheeks were pinked again. “I mean, you did just come inside me, Steve,” you said a little bluntly.

Steve’s mouth flickered, but his face was so in shadow you couldn’t tell if he was smiling or frowning. “Well, I figured it might be a little too soon to ask you to move in,” he said, his tone so even you didn’t know if he was joking or not. “But if you want, I can…”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you decided he was joking, so you smacked him lightly on the chest. “Don’t even start, Steve,” you grumbled.

A grin broke across Steve’s face and he laughed. “Ok so we’re definitely not there yet, huh?” he asked, his voice tight with barely leashed laughter. “Good to know.” His hand came to rest on your hip and squeezed you reassuringly. “So, dinner then?”

Shaking your head a little, you laughed, which caused Steve to let loose and soon you were laughing together, bodies quaking beside each other on the couch. When you finally quieted, you placed a hand on the center of Steve’s chest, feeling his heart beating steadily beneath your fingertips. The fire in the grate had died down to embers and the thunderstorm had moved on, so you couldn’t even hear the distant rumbling booms anymore, only the rain pitter-pattering against the windows of the cabin.

Taking a deep breath, you smiled up at the handsome park ranger. “I’d love to go out with you, Steve,” you said, letting your genuine happiness shine through. “For dinner or any other date you wanna take me on.”

Steve smiled back at you, ducking his head to give you a long, drugging kiss. When he pulled away, his mouth kicked up in a mischievous grin before saying, “Glad to hear it, sweetheart.” His hand squeezed your hip before moving down to knead your ass. “But if I take you for a hike, promise me you’ll let me lead the way.” 

“Sure thing, daddy,” you murmured, getting distracted by the feel of Steve’s hand on your ass. He was groping you roughly enough that you could feel him spreading your pussy open slightly. You moaned softly when you felt his cock twitch and begin to harden inside you. “I’ll let the park ranger take the lead if we go hiking,” you said, trying to sound teasing, but ending up sounding like you were genuinely happy to put your trust in Steve. 

“Mm, good girl, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, a pleased smile on his lips. He pressed a kiss to your mouth, whispering words against lips that sounded just as genuine as yours had been. “If you let me, I’ll take good care of you.” 

“Steve,” you said on a gasp, too many emotions flooding through you for you to name any of them. Instead of trying to put them into words, you pushed on the park ranger’s shoulder and rolled on top of him. You sank down fully on Steve’s cock, both of you groaning at the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his hardness.

“That’s it, baby, ride daddy’s cock,” Steve urged, his voice a deep rumble that made you shiver. His thick cock rubbed against your sensitive inner walls, dragging a moan from you lips. Steve grabbed big handfuls of your ass, guiding you to hump against his dick while you clung to him, your hands twisted in his soft hair. Your hips began moving of your own volition, rocking harder and faster on top of him, making Steve let out one of his pleasured grunts. “Fuck, yes, that’s my girl,” he rasped, his praise filling your ears. “Show daddy how much you wanna belong to him.” 

“I wanna be yours, daddy,” you sobbed, already overwhelmed by the feeling of Steve’s big cock buried in your pussy and his pelvic bone grinding against your clit. The emotions swirling in your chest were too much to parse, but you felt the truth of your words as they tumbled past your lips. “I wanna be yours.” 

“You are, baby,” Steve murmured, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “You are—you’re mine.” His hips bucked up from beneath you, bouncing you on his cock while you kept writhing on top of him, both of you chasing your releases together in each other. “Mine.” 

“Yours,” you answered in a breathless, desperate echo of his possessive declaration. Then your mouths sealed together, and there was no more talking as you gave yourself over to his dominance and the pleasure he offered. Steve claimed your lips just as surely as he claimed your body, and it wasn’t long before you were unraveling for him again, shattering apart on his stiff length while he came inside you with a choked shout.

After you’d recovered a little, Steve hauled you down the hallway to the bathroom. He cleaned you both up before tucking you into his bed, curling his big body around yours beneath his flannel blankets. Settling into Steve’s arms, you were lulled by the occasional snap and crackle of the dying fire in the grate, the pitter-patter of the rain against the windows and the steady breathing of your park ranger. 

Before you could fall asleep, though, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have found Steve—not just because he’s saved you from being lost in a thunderstorm and given you a place to stay, but because you’d finally found a man who felt like home. Your park ranger and his cozy cabin were a shelter in the storm of life, and you knew deep in your heart that both were a safe place for you to land. Not only on that particular night, but for the rest of your life.

With a smile on your face, you fell asleep and had the best, most peaceful night’s rest you could ever remember. And when you woke, it was to the handsome face of your park ranger, Steve Rogers.

a cozy steve rogers autumn masterlist

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my December 2023 fic rec, organized by word count from longest to shortest. Enjoy!

Bitter Tangerine by purpledaisy / @daisyharry (119k)

Maybe it’s Niall, he reasons to calm his storming heart. Maybe he’s not actually gone for the holidays yet, maybe Harry got the dates confused. Slowly, he holds his breath and pushes the kitchen door open. The first thing he sees make him jump, a wooden spoon held out like a sword. Once his brain processes the sight in front of him, it’s less the sword that gets him than who is attached to the wooden spoon.

“Harry,” the swordsmen speaks before Harry can, his voice low and steady though confusion laces each word.

Harry’s breath catches. Every string around his heart, all the protection he spent nine months building, rips out and tears open all at once as he says, “Hi Louis.”

-

AU: Nine months after they break up, a twist of fate brings Harry and Louis back together at Christmas.

Summer’s In the Air and Baby, Heaven’s In Your Eyesby starryhaze / @starryhaze28 (71k)

“So we probably shouldn’t do this.” Louis says, and Harry knows he means staying like this, wrapped up in each other, and he nods, then lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder. His eyes are focused on the ground while he tries to will the tears away.

“We shouldn’t. I’m sorry Lou it’s just-“

“Hey it’s fine, baby.” Louis promises, gently rubbing this thumb over Harry’s cheek. Harry leans into the touch and blinks up at Louis.

“Not your fault.” Louis says, looking around before he presses his lips against Harry’s in a short but sweet kiss. “You’re like my dirty little secret now.” He grins wickedly and gives a wink, making Harry blush and bite his lip as he steps away.

⋆ .ೃ ࿔ *: ･

or a 70s tennis au filled with skirts, pet names and intrigue

Bring It Back That Old Feeling by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (57k)

After six years together, Harry thought there wasn’t anything that he didn’t know about his husband, and no problem they couldn’t solve with a kiss and a snuggle. After a painful year of booze and heartache, he realizes some problems are much harder to fix, but the wait is always worth it.

Little Wings on My Shoes by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (39k)

You have C Lunch?” Louis asks, peering over at Harry's work. The problem Harry’s just finished is printed neatly, the correct answer circled. Harry’s finger marks the next problem in his book as he copies it onto the page. It doesn’t look like he’s stealing the answers out of the back. Nice. 

He’s dimpled and smart. 

And probably gay. [The American High School AU in which no one is cool (except Niall) and Harry wears a rainbow bracelet.]

Playing To Win by  jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom (36k)

Big Brother UK alumni Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are selected for the UK vs Australia All Stars series with a massive one million dollar prize in the offing. They’re both fit and smart and would make a great alliance... if only they can stop their feelings from getting in the way.

OR the one where Louis really doesn’t want to like Harry, Harry is struggling to quell his growing fondness for Louis, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t fight fate.

Big, Bright World by RealName (35k)

It really was just a little crush in the beginning, nothing to be worried about. Louis had never really liked anyone he’d worked with in the past, but he was sure he could control himself. Little did he know that over time his ‘little crush’ would develop into a blazing inferno of Hell-fire proportions. Every day, Louis’ feelings became more intense, more immediate, each little smile and gesture and silly flirtation mounting up into something palpable, with a life of its own. Louis felt it every moment they were together.

The only problem? Harry was engaged to someone else and had been from the moment Louis started working at Visionary.

Office AU (not based on the TV show).

Our Little Corner of the World by brownheadedstranger (29k)

AU. Louis is stuck in his mom’s diner for the summer. Harry is the line cook with a pickup truck.

Woke Up With a Boy (Who Looks Just Like You) by glitteredcurls / @kissyboystyles (26k)

Harry goes to sleep in his shared flat with Louis. He wakes up older and sharing something more with his best friend-- a bed. Harry doesn’t know where the past four years of his life have gone. There is quite a bit he’s forgotten, but still would have never guessed for himself. The only thing familiar is Louis, who seems to mean something different to him at his new age than he did before… Harry just can’t seem to place how.

OR snapshots of the week Louis and Harry jump four years into their (unknowingly married) future suddenly and have to gather their bearings without alerting anyone else.

Lapful Of Lou by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal (2k)

Harry sighed, snuggling into his pillow. “You’re the best boyfriend.” He said, and then his eyes shot open. “I mean— you would be the best boyfriend.” His eyes flickered to Louis’ face, who was standing beside the bed, with a smirk on his face. “Not— not like my boyfriend. I mean— like. I wouldn’t mind if you were my— no.” He pressed his lips together to stop anymore words from barreling out. His face was flaming. And Louis was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, like he was waiting for Harry to finish.

“You done?” He asked with a little bubble of laughter.

Harry grimaced, “Just leave me here to die.”

Or they are both idiots and it takes a drunk Harry (with no brain to mouth filter) to get things going.

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up December 2023 ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚･*:.｡.♡⑅୨୧̩̩̩̥✼• .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

All Things Go by iota @sorrybutblog

Draco’s back at Hogwarts by court order. Harry’s back for no particular reason at all. Some things change, some stay the same. Neither expects to spend eighth-year living in close quarters, playing rugby (poorly), staying up late, sneaking around, and finally figuring it all out. Rec Post

The Inconvenient Death(s) of Harry Potter by nv-md (ANW815) @nv-md

Harry and Draco have spent the decade since the War avoiding each other, even as they’re forced to work together at the Ministry and their friend groups begin to alarmingly overlap. But what happens when Harry meets a tragic end (in a manner of speaking) and Draco’s the only one who can save him? Or Harry won’t stop dying, Draco’s had too much coffee, and there’s more than enough time for them to make a mess of each other’s lives. Rec Post

Constellations on your skin by shushu_yaoi_lj @orange-peony

“I’m going to get my scars removed,” Draco announces on a rainy Wednesday afternoon. “Who are you seeing?” Blaise asks. “The best Healer out there,” Draco replies with a little shrug. “Harry Potter.” Rec Post

and the world is tumbling down by thewakeless @thewakeless

Draco is thirty-five and content. He’s a writer, a painter, and has built a life for himself totally separate from the one he envisioned as a sullen, fearful boy at Hogwarts. Everything is calm—until his house begins trying to kill him. Rec Post

The Cursed Manor by AhaMarimbas @mars-bar81

Ophelia’s been a paranormal investigator for almost ten years, and she’s starting to run out of haunted and cursed sites to explore. When her eclectic roommate and assistant reveals that he owns a large, cursed Manor, Ophelia finds a lot more than just a new career opportunity. Rec Post

The Unknown Door by waterwings @amywaterwings

There is something wrong with the Bellcrest. The heart of the place beats rotten. Everyone says so. Where Draco is a magical property manager, Harry is a recluse, and they’re definitely not hiding from their problems in the run-down flats of the Bellcrest. Not at all. Not one bit. Rec Post

Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm by flightinflame @flightinflame

Eighth-year offers Draco a brief respite before he returns to Azkaban. With a restricted wand, and memories of a girl who shouldn’t exist, he has very little hope for the future. But when Harry brings Teddy into the school, and proves to be utterly clueless, things change beyond anything he could imagine. Rec Post

Historians by oknowkiss @oknowkiss

It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ━☆ﾟ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･.*･｡ﾟ*:・ﾟ✧

Draco's First Holiday by Meowfoy @resilientkitteh

Draco catches Blaise cheating, breaks up with him and decides to leave his French Villa behind to swap houses with a woman named Hermione and her husband Ron. His relaxing vacation becomes far more interesting when a handsome stranger (Harry) knocks at his door in the middle of the night. They meet and get to know each other, and suddenly Draco feels much better about his decision to leave France behind for Britain.

Englishman Extraordinaire by BlueSundayCake @bluesundaycake

When Draco's life goes to shit, he gets scammed. Maybe it's for the best. Who doesn't love new beginnings?

Letters by CoffeeDragon87 @coffeedragon87

When Harry Potter turned eleven he received a letter that changed his life forever. When Harry Potter, now a dashingly handsome bachelor, Head of the Auror Department and loving godfather, is thirty-five history repeats itself.

With and Without You by Shewhxmustnxtbenamed @shewhomustnotbenamed

Harry and Draco realize that they’ve been living in the same building for the past five years, hiding from the Wizarding world in Muggle London for a variety of reasons. They grow unexpectedly close and Harry realizes that Draco’s relationship with his boyfriend is abusive, spiraling as he tries and fails to figure out how to help. In Harry’s rejection of the Wizarding world in general, he has fallen out of touch with his friends and his magical abilities, but has to reconnect with both in order to find himself again.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all & I hope 2024 is good to you! Happy New Year! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[metamorphesque]

poetry recommendations for december

The Untrustworthy Speaker by Louise Glück

Ashes and Blossoms by Faiz Ahmad Faiz

Raw With Love by Charles Bukowski

Dear [ ] by Nick Lantz

The Language of the Birds by Richard Siken

A Prayer by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Snowdrops by Louise Glück

The Road Away by Kim Sowol

From June to December: Summer Villanelle by Wendy Cope

“After My Brother's Death, I Reflect on the Iliad,” by Elisa Gonzalez

Letter to a Lost Friend by Barbara Hamby

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