#her own style being a lot more different than what she was wearing when she was 16

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

Still sorting out timeskip bee but. Maybe.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

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

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

word count: 10.8k

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

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

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

Holy Shit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shut up, punk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t serious.” 

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

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

“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew better though. 

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was worrisome. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So...?”

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

“Yes, very.”

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

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

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

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

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

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

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

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

Happy one month!

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

Happy one month.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“What? When?”

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

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

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“You forgot your flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I trust you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re very good at this.”

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know if I-“

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

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

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

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“Good morning, Sharon.” 

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

“What? Until when?”

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

“Do you know what she has?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*smack*

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

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

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

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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[starkeygirls]

i n v i s i b l e s t r i n g

chapter 1

rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: really bad at these!

wc: 2.5k

warning: none! i haven't written in a while, this is a rewrite of a story that i started in 2020, so please bare with me as i get back in the groove of writing.

a/n: guess who's back, back again. determined to finish this series. rafe and sofia in s4 really inspired me to get back into this fic, hope you all like it ◡̈ pls reblog/comment/etc.. would love to hear your thoughts ◡̈

______________________________________________________________

Sometimes you really fit into Figure 8. Sometimes you all did. Like when John B was off with Sarah and he was wearing the clothes that she had bought him to go out golfing or go to brunch at the yacht club. Or when Kie was dragged to a kook event by her parents at the country club. Pope wore his suit when he had different scholarship and college interviews- and he really gave the kook boys a run for their money with how good he looked in his steamed suit. JJ was the least likely to really look like he would ever fit in on Figure 8, and that was because he never wanted to. He reserved his ‘money suit’, as he called it, for when he had to work as a busboy, and occasionally picked up other gigs. You, however, were fitting in more often than you would have liked. 

You tucked your white cashmere sweater into your long, green pleated skirt. Letting out a small huff as you sprayed your perfectly curled hair one more time. Throwing your purse over your shoulder, you trudged down your hallway, your sneakers cost more than $400. You could still remember how your jaw dropped when you saw the pricetag, and apparently the kooks ate these shoes up. They needed them in every color, every new style that came out. It was madness, if you were being honest. It was like they were just giving away money. 

That’s what it seemed like, at least. You had been working at a retail store in the main strip of Figure 8 for over a year now. It was the only way you could afford the clothes you were wearing. You got a steep discount off the price, and you knew how to shop sales better than anyone. 

Your kook masquerade was always squished the moment you walked out to your car. The old beat up Honda that was always parked out front was nothing like what a kook would drive. It was too old. A 2005? The kooks didn’t know what anything from that year was- maybe only their participation trophies from little league that had the year engraved, that was about it. 

Unlocking the car, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, closing the door and buckling up your seatbelt. 

“Please start, Hilda..” You mumbled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as your hand turned the key in the ignition. She did, as usual- but you would never forget the time that she broke down. You cried for the ten minutes it took John B and JJ to rescue you. They were like your own little mechanics. Pope had called you in the car for the ten minutes while you sobbed and tried to calm you down- it didn’t work. Nothing worked until you saw your car fixed. You still owed them for saving your ass that day, regardless of how many times they assured you it was really nothing.

Crossing over the bridge from The Cut to Figure 8, you sighed: traffic. You knew by now the traffic was always bad as you headed into the main strip of town. It was the most popular place. Coffee shops, restaurants, stores.. Who wouldn’t be there if they had the money and time? Yeah, the coffee was overpriced and no one knew how to drive in their expensive cars, but it was still nice. Nicer than The Cut where people revved their engines when you scurried across the street.

–

It took you a half hour to finally pull into the parking lot behind your store. Saturdays were always the worst traffic wise, but boy, was it a good sales day. Checking the time, you bit your lip as you contemplated running to the cafe a few shops down to get a coffee. Technically you had time- you were always early. You had a fear of being late if you were being honest. You knew it looked bad, and it wasn’t hard for you to just leave a little early for wherever you were going. It took you two minutes to walk to the cafe, and you would give yourself ten minutes to be in the cafe, another two minutes to walk back, and you had twenty minutes until you had to clock in. What if the cafe was busy? What if it took you fifteen minutes in there? 

You slammed the car door and walked towards the Cove Cafe. The bell dinged as you walked in, a smile pressed to your lips as you pushed your sunglasses to your head. It wasn’t busy. What a relief. You smiled at the barista as you walked up to the counter. You and Gabriella had become good friends from your constant stops to the overpriced coffee shop. 

“The usual?” She asked with a grin, scribbling onto the cup as you nodded your head. You still had ten minutes to get back to the shop before you had to clock in. You smiled and waved back to Gabriella as you left the shop, sipping on the drink that had become a staple to your routine.

–

This Saturday was not a good day for sales. The weather must’ve been too nice, or everyone had gone to the mainland. The traffic you had fought through died down, and the small shop was deserted. Main Street in general was deserted. You and your co-worker, Abigail were basically staring at each other for four hours. It was painful at this point. You both had resorted to hiding off to the side hall to watch Netflix shows, peering your heads out when you heard the door open. 

Most of the time it was one or two people wandering in- usually tourons who just looked around and pulled you away from the show. It was your turn to walk out there when the door dinged, watching as two people walked in. Your eyes squinted as you looked to the security camera before heading out from behind the curtain. 

You tried to hide your surprise- and disgust- as your eyes glanced over to see Topper Thorton and Rafe Cameron in the small store. What did they want? Were they making rounds because Sarah was complaining about something John B had said? You knew it wasn’t a good idea John B was hanging around her. Were they threatening your group? 

Was it too late to shove Abigail out here? Was it too late to lock the doors and pretend you never opened? Were you allowed to not greet them? Spit in their faces? 

“Do you have this in a large?” Rafe’s question knocked you from your thoughts, blinking a few times before you furrowed your brows. 

“Let me go check for you.” You smiled at the two boys before heading behind the curtain where Abigail was. “How did I get so unlucky to have to deal with Topper and Rafe? How come you got a Hollywood directors cousin and I get two assholes who aren’t going to spend any money?” A groan escaped your lips before you brought yourself down the stairs to the stockroom. 

– 

“So you’re going to take the three shirts, the sweater and the two pants and then we’re going to order you the polo in the salmon color, and the sneakers, right?” You ran by him one more time. 

“Yeah, and ship it to the store if you can.” Rafe nodded, tapping his American Express Platinum card against the wooden counter. You nodded, typing away on the ipad register. It was a relief to finally be getting them out of the store, though they were a lot less of a pain then you had originally thought they would be. In fact, they were really respectful a complete 180 from what you were used to experiencing. They had hung back up everything they had tried on, and made sure to get a full glance of everything they could want in a different size or color before making you run to the stockroom once they were aware it was in a basement.

The only awkward part of the whole interaction was when you had absentmindedly walked back to the fitting rooms and saw Rafe shirtless as he spoke to Topper about the shirt he had on. 

“Pants fit well.” You awkwardly smiled, diverting your eyes from Rafe’s toned chest. You didn’t hate having them in the store, and he was about to drop a lot of money which was only going to be more money in your pocket.

“You’re all set. Everything should be here by Wednesday the latest. I’ll give you a call when they get here.” You smiled, watching him tap the heavy card against the card reader. His blue eyes glanced up to meet your own eyes. 

“Could you text me, actually? The number on file is my cell.” Your eyes glanced to Topper as he smirked, eyes glancing your way. To be honest, you were surprised. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed to text customers for outreach or order updates- but it was the look Rafe was giving you, it was the smirk Topper had plastered to his face, it was the way Rafe was leaning on the counter. 

–

“And then as if spending an hour with them wasn’t bad enough, he asked me to text him when his order got to the store!” You were pacing in the living room of the chateau. You had driven straight there after work, it was a bit of a usual for all of you. After work on Saturdays, everyone would meet at the chateau and unwind, usually a beer or two, and pizza. 

“Why are you dressed like you’re from the 60’s?” JJ asked, as if he hadn’t been looking at you for the past fifteen minutes you had been ranting. 

“That isn’t the point, idiot.” Kiara chimed in, shaking her head at JJ’s comment. “Love the sweater by the way.” She smiled. 

“Dude, it retails for like three hundred, I almost threw up when a woman asked me where it was in the store the last time I wore it and then she bought it in the three colors we have.” You smiled back, finally plopping onto the couch next to JJ. His eyes were wide as he looked to your sweater, before petting it. 

“Fuck, it’s soft.” 

“It’s cashmere and get your grubby hands off of it. You probably have oil or beer on your hands, and it’s dry clean only.” Your hand smacked at his.

“So when’s your first date with Rafe.” JJ teased, a groan leaving your lips as your head fell back.

“Where the hell did a date even come into this? If he gets my number that’s just another way to threaten us.” 

“I wish John B and Sarah were here to hear all this.. Sarah would lose it.” Kie laughed. “But, we would probably get to the bottom of it. She would just text him and see what was up. Either we’re overthinking it, or we’re perfectly on track for whatever his twisted mind is thinking.” 

“So are you going to wear cashmere on your date with him? Do you think he’ll pay?” JJ continued, a grin planted to his face. He wasn’t going to let it die down, which you should have expected. Jeez, where was Pope, John B and Sarah when you needed them? 

– 

Your fingers hovered over your phone after you had texted Rafe, the chat bubble signaling he was responding - and fast. There was no need to be nervous about whatever he was saying, it was your job, after all. Texting him as he requested for the order he placed - you hadn’t done anything wrong or out of the ordinary. 

You jumped a bit feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, eyes scanning the text saying he would probably show up right before you closed because he was busy. Your lips pulled into a tight line, preparing yourself to have to stay past close. You hearted the message without even thinking, all sense of professionalism threw itself out the window. “Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, too late now to undo what had been done. 

–

The store was in nearly perfect condition, you had told Abigail to head home, that you would wait out Rafe’s arrival on your own, assuring her he would surely only be about 5-10 minutes. You finger spaced the racks twice, re-folded your tables and even dusted off the mannequins as you waited for his arrival. It was now thirty minutes past close, the doors had been locked, your fingers tapped along the desk as a sigh escaped your lips, eyes rolling. Pulling your phone out of pocket, your fingers fired off a message to Rafe. 

hey! i’ve gotta close up, we’re open from 9-7 tomorrow, just tell the associate you’re picking up :) 

Grabbing your things from the back, your keys twirled around your fingers, jumping as a figure was looking into the glass doors of the store. A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes looked to Rafe’s, a smile pressed to his lips as he caught the panic course through your body. A small debate ran through your brain, should you even let him have his things? He should and could wait until the following day. Teach him a lesson on being punctual. 

His hand knocked on the door, smile still pressed tight to his lips. It was almost cocky, like he knew that you would let him in. Before even making a conscious decision, your feet were carrying you to the door and unlocking it. 

“Maybe we should add a watch to your order, seems like you could use it.” Your tone was a bit harsher than you intended, but at this point, he was wasting your time. Holding the door open, you quickly locked it after he entered. 

“I’m only thirty minutes late.” 

“You knew when we closed, you’re abusing my kindness.” 

“Is that what you call the attitude?” Your eyes were glaring at this point, feet carrying you quickly to the back where Rafe’s items were packaged neatly, a bow around the handle of the bag and all. Grabbing it, you gasped yet again as he had been closer to the curtain to the back than anticipated. A chuckle escaping his lips. “You look like a deer in headlights.” 

“Can you just take your things and go? I’ve spent enough time in this store.” A huff escaped your lips as you shoved the bag to Rafe, already walking towards the front door to escort him out. “And don’t worry, I’ll send you watches during my next shift so you can work on being on time.” 

“So you want to see me again?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, smirk pressing to his lips. He clearly was in no rush to leave, or leave without frustrating you any bit he could. 

“Right now I would love nothing more than to watch you leave, Rafe.” Unlocking the door, and opening it you motion for him to leave, your patience growing thin as he took his time walking from the store. “Thanks for shopping with us today.” You mutter before closing the door behind him and locking it. 

–

Scrolling through your phone, a text pulled your brows together. 

so, how’d i look walking away?

[melodic-haze]

Hmm i just had a thought about the recent fic w Arlecchino

What if she had a muzzle on w bunny suit🧐

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Breeding, size kink, reader has a cock/strap referred to as such

☆ — NOTES: I'm ngl it's been several Arle fics now that idk which one you were on ab but it's okay gwenchana. Anyway you lot really want to breed her huh (same though)

Good luck convincing Arlecchino to wear a bunny suit actually HAHAHA

She'd do anything for you, really she will!!!! She's so dedicated to you—worshipping you in the same way a diety was meant to be worshipped—that it's actually scary for the both of you, how much of a hold you have on her. But she has some reservations about such a risqué bit of clothing 💀

Not like you blame her though, considering how it wasn't usually her style. Lucky for you, however, YOU get special treatment :3 all it takes is one look at the outfit, one look at her and some time and voila!!! She'll concede—hell, she might even surprise you :3

"You're.. you're sure, right? I know you were kinda against it at first—I feel bad if I ended up forcing you into something you-- mm."

A finger was on your lips, the gesture's message quite clear as your beloved spoke amidst your commanded silence, "I'm sure, yes. I admit I am.. apprehensive, but your longing gaze is more than enough to convince me to, ah.. experiment."

"Really..?"

"Yes. You do not take me for my word?"

"No, I do! It's just..." You huffed out a sigh as you gently took the hand on your lip and took it in your own, "I just don't want you to feel as if you were obligated to entertain my every whim."

You see her eyes soften at your concern and she squeezes your hand as a form of reassurance from your often-so-stoic lover, "You should know better than to believe I would ever compromise my own comfort for something like this."

"And besides," she continues, "surprisingly, I've come to enjoy being.. well, your prey of sorts. Perhaps the outfit may elevate the interest to another level, hm?"

You couldn't help but stare at her, boldness practically radiating off of your lover despite the position you both know she truly holds within the privacy of your bedroom walls. Such boldness prompted an imagined flash of images in your mind—blackened hands all tied up, drool escaping her lips within confining barriers, tears escaping as sinful noises of wet skin-to-skin impact echo along with her moans—and you feel something akin to a hot flash within your core.

Ever so observant, her eyes go half-lidded as she looks up at you, her grin a touch sharper than before, "I see that I have awakened your imagination."

"Maybe."

"You need not imagine it, my beloved." Her voice reduces itself to something of a low purr, "All you need to do is command me, and I will do whatever you wish."

"That's a dangerous promise to make."

"Coming from a dangerous woman such as I, I dare say it balances the scales."

I love dialogue lol anyway tell her to do so and she will do it ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️ and next thing you know you're facing a woman much shorter than you've always known her to be, clad in such a revealing outfit and a muzzle to prevent her from biting so much. She had 'protested' against the latter at first, but you both know from the way that she so very easily accepted such a thing that she was all for the extra torture, not being able to make a mark on you (she forgets that her nails'll probably do the job for her anyway LMAO)

When she's laid out 'helplessly' on the bed as you tower over her, when you put your hand on the flat of her stomach and the both of you see the clear size difference, when you look at her and see so much anticipation and carnal lust practically glazing her eyes? Oh god the both of you KNOW you're not going out this room for a WHILE

She is COMPLETELY at your mercy—you can toy with her all you want, alternating between overstimulation and edging her with whatever is at your disposal until she can't take it anymore so she has to actually beg you to fuck her dumb and reduce all trains of thought into mush. She considers begging as below her, and yet she can't help but let out these reluctant pleas that only seem to gain a more.......willing quality with them in due time. Just make sure to torture her until her composure snaps, giving her her own sort of medicine and having her experience her very own mindbreak through overwhelming pleasure

To see this woman, who is so utterly feared to the point where crowds would part for her in fear that she would plunge her blackened hands into their chest and staining them red, cling to you and hump your cock like a bitch in heat is such a harrowing contrast.......but there is certainly that feeling of something more

Perhaps it's the fact that there was the urge to pin her down into a mating press and stuff her silly until she gets kids on her own ☺️ seeing her take all these children in at the Hearth and not having any herself.....why, for some reason you found yourself feeling like you just had to give her some children of her own. She seems to adore them, so whyever not ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

Even as dazed-out as she is, she can see something change inside you as your objective goes from fucking her silly to something a lot more feral. Doesn't necessarily help that, yk, you have her in a bunny suit. And yk how bunnies just love to breed

As much as Arlecchino had tried to tell you to slow down for a brief moment, it's as if all noise has been blocked out from your senses, save for the sounds your lover makes and the sinfully wet noises that are produced as you piston into her again and again and again and again.

You roughly pushed her down into the matress, now damp and messy from a mixture of your bodily fluids, as you made sure to bottom out inside her as quickly as you drew back—the harsh assault on her hole had hit spots within her she didn't even realise you could hit, not to mention the force of your movements being more than enough to easily stretch her out and mold her insides to fit you and only you.

It was obvious that there was no way any mercy was going to be given to her. The Harbinger could only lay there and take everything you give her like some kind of fleshlight, the 'fight' within her long gone (if she even had some left in her to begin with).

God I need to separate these bc I can't just choose one thank yew bc both are very very very VERY good

If you had a dick:

You were so utterly determined to fill her and making sure your seed takes by the end of your session. If it meant basting her insides with white-hot cum and having it all stuffed inside her to the point where it has no where to go but out by force, then you'll cum inside her over and over again until you can't anymore.

And when your hand goes to press down on her abdomen, you can see the mixture of cum inside her practically spray out at the edges. She can't take it anymore, even she says so, and yet you can't help but wonder just why is her pussy still milking you as if her life depended on it?

Because she's greedy.

Because right now, no longer was she Arlecchino—she was your very own rabbit, hungry for your potent seed.

If you're using a strap:

You know of your limitations—without anything extra such as magical means, you cannot actually have her bare your children. But whyever would you let that stop you, especially when you had benefits that more than makes up for your lack of organic appendages?

If you had the real thing then you could stuff her silly until it takes (and even beyond that), but one can easily make up for it in other qualities such as size and shape.

And really, whatever's stopping you from filling her to the brim with artificial cum instead?

The world is your oyster, and Peruere was nothing but your very own porcelain fuckdoll at this point.

I need to breed her every which way idc if I don't have a dick, if there's a will there's a way

When she realises what you're trying to do, she can't help that sudden jolt that completely overtakes her—her hips practically shoot from the bed, pushing your cock in even deeper, before you push her back down while she lets out a silent scream. By GOD the fact you want to breed her, fill her, make sure a child of YOURS growing inside her, making a mark beyond just her skin.........oh it gets her going in ways she never would've fathomed before

By the end of your VERY long and productive session, it's VERY clear you've both fucked like rabbits from the mess all over the place and the liquid practically gushing from her abused hole. After everything, you finally take off her muzzle, only for you to lead her drool-coated mouth all the way down to the base of your cock to clean it up. She doesn't even protest either, easily taking it like a good girl and making sure that she does a good job in cleaning you up and finishing you off. All you need to do is plug her up properly, feeling all the cum stuffed inside her through the small pauch of her abdomen, where her womb is 🫶

"..I had known this was a possible outcome, and yet I cannot help but be surprised by your control, or lack thereof."

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you rolled on your side, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me! You just looked so irresistible and before I knew it I just--"

"Don't take my words as a form of reprimand, darling." You feel her hands take your own from your face, her lips finally kissing them—you—after a long time of having it muzzled, "I enjoyed it. You are already aware of my.. likes and dislikes, especially when it comes to the rougher parts of the activity. I gave you control, and you willingly seized it."

"I guess..."

"And besides," she muses with a small smile on her face, "I am.. not necessarily opposed to the thought of it."

"Of what?"

"Getting bred."

A warm flush spreads through your cheeks as you gave her a light swat, "You! You are so shameless! What happened to being polite and cryptic?!"

"Do we really need such pleasantries by this point? Seeing that you were rather determined to take me all for yourself, after all..."

"Oh my god."

A deep laugh rumbles within her, the sound so rare and precious that you'd want to keep it all to yourself, and you can't help but laugh along with her as you bask in the afterglow. When your laughter settles down, the two of you end up with your legs tangled up together as you lay there in companionable silence.

Though eventually she decides to break it, "Shall I go and run us a bath?"

"You can stand after all that? Geez, seems like I did a bad job," you joked.

Arlecchino huffed out lightly with a smile, "No, you've rendered me utterly near-useless—a feeling that I don't usually enjoy. Yet the fact that I don't seem to mind it all that much should show that you are special to me."

You feel that heat in your cheeks again at the proclamation, "Archons, and when I aim to have you all sappy like that in public you don't even dare move a muscle."

"Time and place, dear. Time and place. Now," she questions again, "shall I run us a bath? We can take care of the mess later."

You nodded, "Mm, if you don't mind then. But can we take it together?"

You see her eyes crinkle, the glow that the red crosses within them softening like a tender flame, "Of course. I shall be back in a few moments, then."

She gets up, and you pride yourself for being the reason why your lover temporarily goes off balance from a sudden tremor in her legs before collecting yourself.. and you can't help but stare at the remaining cum staining the sides of the plug and the apex of her thighs as she walks off.

She doesn't take the plug off when you go and take the bath together. Wonder why 😋

[genericpuff]

Since you made a post about lore Olympus’ fashion,could you tell us what kind of fashion characters in rekindled usually wear?

For the most part, considering it's a modernized retelling just like LO, I try to focus on the character's personality first and then refine from there.

Currently where Kore is in her character arc, she's very cottage-core in her outfit choices, favoring light springtime colors that compliment her skin tone. She also often wears dresses and skirts both because she thinks they're pretty, and also because it gives her a lot more range of motion, she doesn't like being constricted or too revealing. Even when she wears dresses and skirts that are on the shorter side, she'll still usually be wearing leggings and/or shorts underneath. That said, her fashion choices will change and develop as her character does throughout the story, she has a few different phases that she goes through that start to go outside of her comfort zone, so keep an eye out for that ;)

On the flipside, Hades is often wearing pressed suits and has grown used to wearing the same wardrobe often as, like the rest of his life, he's fallen into a very standardized routine. That said, he also wears his Mortal Realm garb when he's doing his job addressing the mortals, as it's standard protocol to keep all modern amenities away from them (including expensive suits lol) That said, when we see him in more casual settings such as the Olive Branch restaurant, he and his brothers are usually wearing more modern Mediterranean outfits, including colorful button-ups and sandals (though Hades often still sticks to his darker color schemes as it's, again, what he's accustomed to). Like Kore, Hades will also be going through some fashion developments as the story goes on and as he learns to step outside of his own comfort zone. I've got some future suit ideas planned for when the story moves on, I wanna give him some more flair than his default settings from LO 😆 (trust me, that moment when Persephone teased him for wearing nothing but black suits is gonna come back into play eventually LOL)

Artemis and Hermes are both really athletic so their clothing often reflects that, they both like tracksuits and sportswear, though Artemis is seen a few times throughout the series so far wearing Mortal Realm garb because she's someone who's often working in the Mortal Realm.

Hecate is a lot of fun because not only is she a lot more androgynous, but I also get to come up with fun outfits that reflect the witch side of her.

Apollo is a very "slap it on and get on with the day" kinda guy (especially considering he works long shifts with lots of early mornings) so a lot of what he wears are hoodies, t-shirts, cargo shorts, sandals, etc. He doesn't need much to get by and considering he works with Helios, he never really needs to bundle up too much LMAO

Demeter is one of the only gods who's always drawn in Mortal Realm attire as that's where she mainly resides. This largely includes Mycenaean-style garb, such as the chiton and peplos.

I've found this particular site very helpful for providing both inspiration and context to specific outfits where Ancient Greek standards come into play. As for the modern outfits, it's really just about having fun meshing the characters' personalities in with modern fashion styles of Greek fashion. It makes for a lot of outfits that are made up of flowing fabrics with lots of color and movement accessibility.

Just wait until we get to Aphrodite and Ares though. Whooo I have plans for them LOL

[looney-mooney-studio]

Linda Flynn Fletcher/Linda Cipher throughout the years! Full image ID under the cut cuz there’s a lot of text to transcribe lol

New Astrophysicist: Eager to start her new career! Wants to prove herself after Lindana’s legacy. Craves fame on her own terms. Willing to do WHATEVER it takes! Silver jewelry. Silver star shaped earrings. Purple headband. Colorful striped shirt. Purple choker necklace. White Labcoat. Bell bottom blue jeans. Shoulder length red hair.

Dating Bill: more confident in self and career. Starts dressing more professionally, without sacrificing personal sense of style. Starts wearing gold jewelry. Yellow button up shirt. Gold triangular earrings. Yellow headband. Black choker necklace. Blue jeans. White lab coat.

Possessed by Bill: PARTY GIRL! Colleagues just think this is what she’s like when she’s drunk. Acts kinda slutty? MESSY HAIR (Bill’s not used to vessels with so much hair, so he keeps messing with it.) lineart different - more Gravity Falls style than Dwampyverse style. Doesn’t know how to wear a shirt. Lost a shoe - Linda will have to find it later. Mostly same as last design, but without the labcoat.

Pregnant: hair grows faster during pregnancy. Shows off her belly! Patches clothes - Bill starts breaking things, but she blames their body’s hormones. Design is same for both pregnancies because she just reuses her old pregnancy clothes. Same “dating bill” design, but with longer hair, a crop top, and a green patch on her blue jeans. Gold wedding ring.

Full Bill Cultist: Dresses more and more like Ford. Invests in hippy stuff. More obvious about being with Bill. Colleagues think she’s starting to go a little bit nuts, but can’t argue with her results. Red turtleneck. Tan jacket. Shoulder pads. Black slacks. Brown sneakers. Gold triangle earrings. Gold headband. Gold beaded necklace with a big triangular bill cipher charm. Gold wedding ring.

Post Breakup: doesn’t take care of self. Ironically looks more like if Bill were possessing her. Still wears yellow, but it’s washed-out. Her relationship with Bill is broken, but still fresh. Tired, trying not to sleep a whole lot. Caffeine addict. Messy hair. Green headband. Green flannel jacket. Yellow t-shirt. Tan cargo pants. Green sneakers. TIRED.

Dating Lawrence: letting herself be a little bit cringe. Having fun! Reminding herself of things she enjoys outside of what she did with Bill, like music and fiber arts. No yellow OR red. She’s being DIFFERENT for a little while. Pony tail. Black scrunchy. Teal sweater dress. White belt.black leggings. Purple leg warmers. Black sneakers. Clunky upside down teal teardrop earrings.

Now: wears yellow again, but on her OWN terms now. Isn’t afraid anymore. Trying out new things! Opted out of rings with Lawrence. They have antique lockets instead. Whole family has them, including a custom-made locket for Perry. Takes a lot of classes. Content to be a stay-at-home mom with a lot of hobbies. Her career isn’t important to her anymore, she doesn’t even have one. She’s FREE. White short sleeved button up shirt. Yellow sweater vest. Green khakis. Yellow orthopedic shoes. Peach colored headband. Teal pearl earrings.

[fictionobsession]

devotion

Pairing: Alastor x f!Reader

Summary: She would give anything for him.

Word Count: 1,997

Warnings: blood, canon typical violence, Alastor being psychotic

A/N: okay friends, first time writing for Al. this was not beta'd or really edited at all so if something seems weird just... assume I meant to fix it. also, this was written as a QPR, but there's a little feelings on reader's side if you squint. I'm not 100% on how in character this is for Alastor, but we tried and that's what matters right

---

She plopped onto the shitty couch and pulled her knees to her chest, looking around the shitty house where they'd been hiding out in the middle of this shitty swamp for the last two shitty weeks. The wallpaper was peeling and yellowed, the floors covered in mold and mildew, the running water only worked half the time, and, more importantly, the refrigerator was empty as of six nights prior. Her stomach rumbled just thinking about a nice juicy cut. She sighed, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into the daydream of food.

She knew when she'd gotten into this hobby with Alastor that there was a non-zero chance she would wind up on the run someday. She just wished they could have put it off a bit longer, had a bit more fun. She laid her head back against the rotting couch until she heard the creak of the floor near the front door.

Her eyes snapped open and her brows furrowed as she took in Alastor's hunting attire.

“Al, where do you think you're going?”

“Well, my dear, unless you feel like us both starving to death in this dismal abode, I thought I'd better go get some food.”

“Alastor. You know we've heard the dogs nearby. You can't possibly go out there without getting caught, at least until we've had a couple days where we haven't heard 'em.”

“Again, starving is not on my agenda, so we don't particularly have another choice.”

Another choice. Her face hardens as she realizes what another option might be. She stood up and crossed the room, grabbing Alastor's arm before he could open the door. “There is a way for us to make it out of this without you leaving. Or rather, a way for one of us to make it out of this.”

He hummed, and she could see the wheels turning as he put together what she was implying. “I'm not sacrificing myself for you to get away, you know.”

“I know. That's why I'm just asking you to get it over with quickly. You'll get more time, and I – well, I'll at least get to go out on my own terms. If I have to go, at least it'll be for you.”

His eyes widened just a bit, more reaction than she'd usually get, before he shrugged. “Okay. Painless it is. Not usually my style, but I think I can figure it out.”

She laughed, a genuine, full laugh. “I know, Al, and that's why we've worked out so well. But I think you could at least do that much for me.”

He pulled his hunting knife from where he had already slid it into his belt. “Are you ready?”

And with one nod, everything went black.

-

It seemed instantaneous, appearing in hell. She looked around, taking in the chaos around her. Literal dumpster fires, public sex, casual street murders, Hell had it all. Of course, arriving in Hell wasn't a surprise for her. You don't kill that many people and expect to get into Heaven. She wasn't even sure she had believed in the whole afterlife thing until she was experiencing it. She shrugged it off, finding the closest place with a mirror she could use for free.

Her body was... different, certainly. But intact, and honestly, she was quite happy with it. Given the various types of demons she'd seen just in her brief time there, it could've been a lot worse. She wandered, putting together a plan of action for getting herself set up in Hell. It seemed she would need income to make most things happen, which made finding a job a top priority. She also needed a place to sleep, as it seemed unsafe at best to stay on the streets.

She got a job fairly quickly at Ozzie's, though she wasn't thrilled with the outfit they made her wear for the whole thing. But it was money, and easy work, so she stuck with it. Asmodeus offered her a fairly decent rate on rent nearby, as well, so she could have done worse.

Shortly after getting settled, she started feeling pressure on her body in random locations and at seemingly random times, almost like someone was grabbing or poking her to get her attention. Occasionally she'd get hot spots, which she at first attributed to it being hot in Hell. Little scrapes and cuts would appear sometimes as well, but they always healed up quickly. It wasn't until the final time it happened that she realized what had been happening over the past few weeks.

A perfect bite imprint appeared on her forearm, accompanied by a sharp pain, and she realized it must have been an effect of Alastor in the living world. She traced her finger over the mark, which had healed into almost a scar, but not quite. It was a bit pink, but wasn't angry and fresh. She smiled a little to herself, happy that her sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

As time went on, she found herself tracing the mark when she was feeling stressed, upset, or particularly lonely. It never healed all the way, making it always a bit sensitive to touch, and served as a reminder of why she was here. The mark always made her feel closer to Al, which brought a little comfort when things got crazy.

She had managed to stay within the same few blocks that she knew were heavily policed by Asmodeus's people. However, six months into her stay in Hell, she finally had to leave her little neighborhood to buy some things for the bar. She packed her gun, a knife, and made sure she was dressed inconspicuously – the rumors about the surrounding areas were very...detailed...about what might happen to someone who ended up on the wrong side of a fight.

Unfortunately, her preparation didn't keep her from getting spotted by some Sharks outside the store as she started back toward her apartment. She tried to hurry, sliding between demons and other sinners, before slipping down an alley to attempt to lose her tail. It was too late by the time she realized it was a dead end, and the Sharks started cutting off her only entrance.

She took one step, two, keeping them in her sight until her back hit the brick wall behind her. Her hand reached for her gun, ready to pull it when the lead Shark got close enough. Their glares were paralyzing, and she could smell the smoke and alcohol on them at that distance. She felt herself start to shake, taking a deep breath to steady herself before -

“You wouldn't want people to think you're picking on those of fairer means would you?” The sound and feeling of static crackled through the air like lightning as a dark shape enveloped the opening to the alleyway. A long, thin shadow ripped through the air, straight through the lead Shark, throwing him against the side of the neighboring building.

Green sparks shone through the seemingly infinite blackness, a pair of what could only be described as antlers growing from the approaching shape. Two more tendrils, picking up the remaining Sharks and tossing them into the air like dolls. She wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't look away from the gore. Sure, she had seen a lot of violence in her time in Hell, but she hadn't seen that level of overkill in quite some time.

As the last of the Sharks fled only to get a tendril through the skull, she pressed herself as far into the corner as possible, sliding down the wall and pulling her knees to her chest. There was only the hope that the demon forgot she existed, and the knowledge that if he hadn't, she would likely be next up for second death.

The shadow approached, darkness fading as he got closer until finally it revealed a man. A tall man, with horns, but just a man, nonetheless. He was straightening out his red coat, and twirling something around in his hands as he approached. “Always good to have an excuse to let off a little steam. Always good.”

He put a hand out to help her up. As she lifted herself off the ground, he was already vaguely shaking her hand, introducing himself. “Name's Alastor, pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure.”

His name hit her ears about the time he caught a glimpse of her bite, and both stopped dead in the middle of introductions. She looked up, eyes widening as she realized that yes, that was a microphone, and yes, in fact, it had been quite a while since she'd seen that level of overkill, one could even say since her living days. He looked different now, sure, but as soon as she looked into his eyes, she knew that was her Al.

“Well maybe don't wait so long to come save my ass next time, eh, Al?” She smirked up at him, waiting for him to process what was happening. His nails traced the pattern of his own bite on her arm. She caught sight of his tongue tracing across his teeth, as if he was just then realizing how different they'd really become. “I bet your imprint looks a bit different now, doesn't it?” She spoke more to herself than to him as she reached to pull her sleeve down over the mark.

“Why, I should hope so, my dear. I should very much hope so. Let's see just how much it's changed then!” Without any more warning than that, he pulled her arm to his mouth and bit, hard. The new mark bled, sure, but it healed up more quickly than it probably should have, covering his old impression with his new one. His ears twitched subconsciously, his ever-present smile nearly faltering as he watched the blood drip, drip, drip down her arm. He shook himself out of whatever thoughts were distracting him rather quickly before acting like no time had passed at all since they'd been together last. “Now, I don't think I should leave you alone again. It seems to me that you still can't stay out of trouble, my dear! Come along, let me show you where I've been staying!”

“But – Hang on! Al! I've got to go to work!”

“Ah, there'll be no more need of that anymore. We'll send a notice to... whoever you're working for when you get settled.” He raised an eyebrow, practically daring her to argue. She knew, though, that she'd never gone against what he'd wanted before, and she didn't particularly want to start now. She took the elbow he'd offered her and allowed him to lead her out of the alley.

Occasionally, as they walked, she would catch sight of a shadow that seemed to be following them.

“Oh, don't mind them. They're just keeping an eye on your wellbeing. You better get used to it! Having a friend like me, why, other overlords will just be dying to get their hands on you!”

She scoffed, a look of adoration crossing her features before she tactfully replaced it with annoyance. “I'm not going to get any rest now, am I?”

“Oh contraire, ma cherie! You're going to get everything you've ever wanted and deserved. I owe you that after what you did for me up there, wouldn't you say?”

“Oh I just can't wait to show you Cannibaltown! You've got to meet Rosie, yes. You'll get along very well, very well indeed. And she makes the most delectable little treats! Maybe we'll go by tomorrow.”

As he continued rambling, she hummed approval when appropriate, watching him out of the corner of her eye with a mix of caution and longing. As he led her down streets she'd never seen before, she realized maybe this was all her afterlife had needed after all.

[tizeline]

I was actually wondering what the Sep Au Brothers feel about fashion? I read an analysis the other day about Rise Donnie and he seems to have the best fashion sense out of them all (and may or may not have his own fashion line?? Idk but I love that idea)

So I was wondering if it was the same or different for your Donnie? Do the Drax brothers have more of a yokai fashion sense or like- idk, what do they think of human fashion?

I have no idea is that makes sense but words are difficult

I think I've seen the same post actually, haha! Yeah, I really like the idea of Donnie being into fashion, and I don't see why it would be different for AU Donnie. As for the Drax Bros, I mentioned it in This Post but their outfits are mostly inspired by what Draxum wears, which in universe would be explained by them wanting to be like their father by emulating his sense of style. After the whole Redemption Arc thing and the Draxum family decides to abandon their Evil Plan, the trio might start exploring and developing their own taste in fashion.

Leo I feel like would be quite excited to try out human clothes, considering he already has an interest in human stuff. It might actually end up being a bit of a bonding experience for him and Donnie when they properly become friends, with Donnie helping Leo find the right outfits for him!

Mikey and Raph would proably still mostly stick to yōkai clothes, while they do eventually become, not just more open-minded about humanity, but also curious about it, they'd still wanna stick to what they're familiar with.

Actually, with Raph it might be more of a necessity. It would be really hard to find human clothes that'd fit his size, and also work with his spikes. Yōkai on the other hand are a lot more diverse physically than humans, so the people in the Hidden City who work with designing and creating clothes would take that into consideration. So needless to say it would be easier for Raph to find yōkai clothes that fit him rather than human clothes.

Seasons probably don't effect the Hidden City that much, I'd assume? Cuz it's underground? So the Drax turtles might not have that much experince with seasons. Still, I don't think they'd love winter considering the fact that they're reptiles and as such are more sensitive to cold. (I think Draxum would've made sure they're more resistant to cold than normal turtles, it would be quite inconvinient if they started brumating in the middle of a fight just cuz it was snowing lol, but they're still more susceptible to it than mammals)

I think Mikey would appreciate autumn, when all the leaves turn a vibrant orange. Both because as an artist he'd appreciate the autumn aesthetic and because... y'know, orange. I think all the bros would like summer cuz, again, reptile biology, they'd like the heat.

I'd assume yokai would have their own unique holidays that the Draxum family would celebrate, no idea what those would be, though.

Draxum has definitely informed his sons about how dangerous Big Mama is and how bad it would be if she found out that they were literally created with her favorite champion's stolen DNA. They don't like her and know to avoid her, if any business is being done between their family and Big Mama then Draxum is the one who handles most of the negotiations.

And lastly - episodes like Todd Scouts and Snow Day, and then The Mud Dogs - none of these I have figured anything out for of how they would be handled in the AU sooooo no answer for ya there, sorry!

[drowsyhope]

HEYA, [Y/N]! • POPPY PLAYTIME

summary ; child reader with the smiling critters

a/n ; THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON THE DOGDAY FICC 🫶🏼🫶🏼 was lowkey scared to post it bc i thought it was booty 😔 HOPE YALL ENJOY THIS ONEE

warning ; slight cussing, reader is hispanic coded bc ya girl is hispanic ‼️🙏🏼, based on the CARTOON versions of the smiling critters, different scenarios with each character, no children death just a lot of sillies :3

DOGDAY , MOVIE NIGHT

“are you sure the popcorn isn’t burnt?” you asked while holding up a greasy bag of popcorn, that clearly had a burnt smell to it. you were wearing your typical pajamas, a [f/c] ]f/a] themed jumper. dogday on the other hand was wearing a dog themed jumper, complete with fuzzy orange socks.

dogday nodded excitedly, taking the greasy popcorn out of your hands. “of course! everything is perfect!” he turned on the heel of his feet, turning around and walking towards the cushion fort the two of you made.

you were confused, but shook it off, putting in another bag of popcorn.

dogday caught wind of your birthday coming up, and planned a one-on-one play date with the two of you, since recently he has been more busier than usual. plus, he always love spending time with you!

fluffing up a pillow, dogday laid down, getting comfortable in his spot, his tail wagging and you made your way towards him, your own personal bag of popcorn in your hands.

“what movie would you like to watch?” he asked, grabbing the controller and looking at you, awaiting for an answer. you on the other hand, didn’t know what movie to watch. surely, there was plenty of movies to watch, but they suddenly just popped out of your head when the question was asked.

“hmm, what about [favorite movie]?” you responded finally. dogday nodded, turning towards the tv and putting on the movie, smiling as the two of you started munching on your goodies.

alas, your movie night began.

CATNAP , TEA PARTY

catnap was reluctant on the idea of a tea party, but with convincing with the help of dogday, catnap agreed.

the two of you were dressed in your sunday’s best. catnap went for a more casual look, having a pink bow tie tied around his neck, a bow being tied around the end of his tail. bobby gave him some white gloves, craftycorn gave him some necklaces to borrow.

you on the other hand, had a bow tied around your wrist, a bow being put in your hair. picky helped you style your hair, and kickin helped you become more confident.

the tea party was going to be held in his cathouse, which dogday and bubba decorated.

you and hoppy prepared tea, making some french goodies alongside it. you were excited for this little tea party, having it with one of your best of friends. it was also near the time of your birthday, so you were extra excited.

entering the cathouse, you were greeted by catnap, who was fumbling with his bow tie, seemly uncomfortable. “catnap!” you smiled, before giving him a funny look as he looked at you with a shocked expression.

“hey! uh ..can you help me?” catnap struggled, before you nodded. you didn’t want your friend to feel uncomfortable.

soon enough, the two of you were enjoying tea, snacking on chocolate chip cookies, and chatting your lives away. well, mostly you. out of the two, you were the more talkative one. catnap was the quiet one of the smiling critters, so it was surprising for the others for the two of you to become such best friends.

but, thankfully, the two of you are. cause you won’t be having this epic tea party if you didn’t!

HOPPY HOPSCOTCH , MOON CYCLES

hoppy has ever seen the moon before, you on the other hand, have. she always asked how it looked like, does it change, does it have a scent, etc.

“the moon has different cycles, like i think today it’s a full moon.” you explained, showing her a picture of the full moon today. hoppy looked amazed, her eyes widening and her eyes going up. you smiled at her, enjoying that she was finally able to be the moon.

“ah yucks, i wish i can see the moon for myself!” she responded, going back and landing on the pillow, making you giggle. you in return laid down on your stomach right next to her, the photograph still in your hand.

“it’s very beautiful! maybe i can take a videotape next time. i’ll make sure to show you.” you promised, sticking out your pinky for a pinky promise. hoppy smiled, taking out one of her fingers to establish the promise.

it made you feel bad that hoppy never seen the moon. you always seen how much she wanted to see the moon, always talking about it and learning about it.

you wished you can take her along with you, but your parents won’t allow you. also, hoppy is a 6’2ft mascot, and might make other people scared.

nevertheless, you explained the moon cycles to her, drawing pictures of them to visualize it for her. she enjoyed learning more about the cycles, and thanked you for showing her a picture of the actual moon.

hopefully, one day you can take her to the moon. the two of you can jump super high and reach the moon, planting a picture of the two of you, and come right back down. one day, you’ll make sure that dream comes true.

one day.

CRAFTYCORN , ARTWORK

the room was filled with bunch of laughter and smiles, it was of course, the art room. craftycorn was in charge of the art room, as she was the artistic one of the smiling critters.

thankfully, she had a helper, a kid named [y/n].

[y/n] was a artist from the day they were born, always making different artworks from different materials. if there was something, they could make anything out of it.

they enjoyed making art, and instantly became best friends with craftycorn, the two sharing their love for art.

“can you pass me the red?” craftycorn asked, scribbling on her paper. [y/n] nodded, getting up and walking towards the table, which contained different colored crayons. they grabbed the red one, turned around, and made their way back to where craftycorn was.

“here you go!” they said, giving them the red crayon. craftycorn smiled at them, taking the red crayon. she was drawing the two of them, using the red crayon to draw hearts all over the place.

[y/n] sat down, continuing to draw on their artwork — a drawing of all the smiling critters, them included. it was a huge project, and their hand definitely hurt. but, it was going to be worth it in the end.

soon enough, craftycorn was finished with her artwork, holding it up like it was a masterpiece. the other children caught wind of the finished art piece, and was quick to scatter towards her, wanting to see what she had created.

finally, [y/n] was finished. they smiled as they wrote their name near the bottom of the paper, holding it with such determination. they were proud of their artwork.

“that’s an amazing artwork, [y/n]!” craftycorn complimented, smiling as she realized it was her and the other smiling critters, alongside with [y/n]. she felt warmth creep its way into her heart, it was adorable.

“i hope you enjoyed it, i spent a lot of time on it.”

indeed, she and the other smiling critters enjoyed the masterpiece created by their dear [y/n].

PICKY PIGGY , BAKING

baking with picky was like a sport, it was easy!

picky had this cookbook that she liked to use. thankfully, you were able to read, so it was easy baking with picky, as she always had the ingredients on hand.

now, the two of you decided to bake cupcakes for the smiling critters, since they been craving some sweets for awhile.

“and now .. add vanilla!” picky said as you put some drops of vanilla into the cake batter mix, instantly being hit with the scent of vanilla. it smelled just like dogday.

picky read over the instructions as you poured the cake batter into the pan, making sure it was evenly distributed. it was rather a messy step, but with picky on your side, it was easy.

you were quick to put the cupcakes in the oven as picky sat on the countertop, looking at you, smiling. the two of you became friends over your love for baking, and picky’s live for eating.

you would always bake or cook for picky, as you wanted to improve on your skills. picky always gave you honest review, so you can improve better. it was a easy win for the both of you, you get better, and she gets to eat.

the two of you were in silence, looking as the cupcakes baked. it was a comfortable silence.

time was fast though, soon the cupcakes were finished. you put on your heat protective gloves, and took out the cupcakes, blowing on them to try and cool them down.

picky was jumping up and down, excited that the cupcakes were finally done. “okay, don’t touch just yet, they are still very hot.” you said as you took off your gloves. picky understood, but was still excited. she loved trying your cupcakes, something about them just make them melt in her mouth.

she loves when you bake.

BUBBA BUBBAPHANT , MATH HOMEWORK

you didn’t enjoy math.

you always stressed over it, cried over it, and also got mad over it. math was just not your brightest subject.

your best friend on the other hand, bubba, was a scholar on math. he always showed you how good his grades were on math, and always offered to help you.

but no matter how much he helped you, you never seemed to grasp on the concept of math in general.

“come on! it’s easy!” bubba groaned, looking down at the simple multiplication work on your paper. you on the other hand, was stressing out. you shook your head, to which bubba playfully rolled his eyes.

you groaned as bubba explained to you the basic of math, and how to do multiplications. you been over this plenty of times! you just can’t understand the concept of math!

“ughh .. at this point don’t even talk math to me!” that gave bubba an idea.

he quickly bought up 2 apples, “okay, there is two apples, correct?” you nodded. he bought up 3 apples, “now, there is 3 apples, right?” you nodded once again.

“now imagine each apple is 2 apples,” she pointed towards the 3 apples, “2 .. 4 ..”

“6!” bubba smiled. “correct!”

then it was like something clicked. bubba showed many other examples, and you got it right away. everything was suddenly making sense!

maybe math isn’t so bad.

BOBBY BEARHUG, VALENTINE’S DAY

valentine’s day was right around the corner, and you didn’t know what to get your best friend, bobby bearhug.

bobby’s favorite holiday was valentine’s day, she always loved the idea of love in general. in fact, that was how the two of you became friends.

you were giving out chocolates to your friends, and you had an extra heart shaped chocolate. you didn’t know who to give it to, until a certain bear came up to you, giving you a lollipop. smiling, you gave her the heart shaped chocolates, and the two of you became instant friends.

your friendship anniversary was coming up, and you were nervous. you didn’t know what to give bobby, as she basically already had everything.

but then, you had an idea, an expensive one.

2 week before valentine’s day, you were working your butt off for some cash. this was going to be an expensive gift, but it would be long lasting.

thankfully, you got some help from some of her other friends, getting some info on her favorite colors and favorite candies, everything was going to fall perfectly in place.

you made sure to give the person making the gift enough time, and made sure you tipped them accordingly. everything was perfect, and you were excited.

valentines rolled around, and bobby was trying to look for you.

“have yall seen [y/n]?” she was growing worried. today was your friendship anniversary, and she hasn’t seen you all day. she hoped you didn’t just ditch out on her, as she didn’t want to seem useless.

that was when one of the kids asked her to follow them, and as skeptical as she was, she followed nevertheless. they led her to a dark room, which scared her quite a bit. that was until the light turned on, revealing a surprising sight.

“happy valentine’s day!” you stood there, a ramo buchon in the color of her favorite color in your arms, some candies in your other. they were eternal roses, which meant they wouldn’t die out, which made it even more special. the other kids took pictures of the two of you.

this surely was going to be your favorite valentines yet.

KICKIN CHICKEN , ONE DAY

the playground was filled a lot of children, including bullies.

you hated bullies, especially since you have a few of your own. they always made fun of your hair and the way you spoke, which made you insecure about yourself.

that was until a kid named kickin chicken came to your rescue. he defended you from the bullies, and threaten to call the teachers on them.

he was like your guardian angel, and he was a chicken, so almost there.

“why didn’t you tell me?” kickin said with tears in his eyes as he patched you up. you were silent the whole time, not wanting to trauma dump on your friend.

“i didn’t want to seem weak.” you whispered, to which kickin sighed, taping your bruise. he looked at you with worried eyes, this was the 3rd time this weak you were sent to the nurse office, and kickin was always there to see you.

he gave you a hug, sighing as he heard you sniffle. you were always an emotional kid, which was probably one of the reasons they targeted you. kickin was sure to report those kids, they don’t deserve the cupcakes he’s going to bring on his birthday.

he wanted to tell you that you weren’t weak, but you would never believe him. he knew that you hated confrontation, so he never told you directly, but with his actions, he did.

“you’re a amazing friend, [y/n]. i hope you know that.” he said as the two of you hugged each other. you didn’t say anything, you didn’t want to believe what he was saying, but half of you know that he actually meant it.

you just hoped those bullies get the karma that they deserve, and that you won’t be bullied anymore.

one day, you’ll be a happy child. one day you’ll be able to smile without being scared of someone making fun of you. one day, you’ll be the best friend that kickin will always want you to be.

one day.

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last one had a kick to it. alsooo!!! request are open!!! please request! :3 might take some time though :(

[princelylove]

Sometimes it just feels better to turn your brain off and let someone else do aaaallll of the thinking for you.

Dumbification comes in a few different forms. Dollification and bimbofication, mainly. What's the difference?

Wellll. Dollification could be a number of things. People like all different kinds of dolls. Porcelain ones that sit on the shelf and do nothing but collect dust all day, action figures that can be posed, sex dolls that you inflate like a balloon and have your way with, rag dolls that have been through the war, actual stuffed animals, the list goes on. A doll is anything their owner wants them to be that day. That's what playing pretend is all about!

I see quite a few of my yandere interpretations being into dollifcation for their darling. Unfortunately not many for themself, but it's alright.

I think it's obvious that Jotaro loves dolls. Porcelain dolls, those fabric dolls with frilly dresses... he thinks they're just oh-so-cute. It's a shame they break so easily. He usually would go for someone that's already a bit doll-like- maybe their skin resembles porcelain, or their fashion sense makes for an obvious comparison.

I've spoken a bit in the past about Jotaro's fascination with lolita fashion, but it really does make a little too much sense to me. It scratches an itch for him. You either get it or you don't. The 'sweeter' styles- classic lolita, sweet lolita, hime lolita, even gothic lolita, they're all appealing. It's not necessarily the colors, it's about the amount of frills and lace and layers. He probably has a thing for petticoats because of it.

Jotaro's ideal day with his favorite dolly is nothing special. He'd prefer his doll on a shelf, safe and sound from the elements. It's not that he's a collector, it's that his darling is his prized possession. Taking care of it makes sense. He just wishes you'd stop thinking so much.

Yukako thinks you're better when you're finally broken in. You're just so much cuter when you let her dress you up and take you out! It irks her that you're not talking, but she can get you a voice box! Communication cards? Something! Maybe you're just shy. Aha. Ahahahahahahahahahahha.

She thinks a darling with a modern, feminine fashion sense is the cutest. Girly, but fitting for her age. If that isn't what she initially wears, Yukako has no problem gifting her some pieces here and there until her closet is full of cute clothes! Or, just. You know. Kidnapping her and not giving her any say in the matter. Either works. Have fun taking lots of pictures with Yukako!

There's a lot of yandere interpretations of mine that enjoy 'total bombshells,' but what about an actual bimbo? For some yanderes, it's about taking an entirely normal person and making them a mindless slut, for others it's about trapping one out in the wild and taking it home. It's your own little barbie! Or a bratz doll, depending on their style, I guess. Who can really tell?

Pannacotta isn't the type to openly degrade someone, his insults take a second or two to really process. He loves the adorable look on your face while you're thinking about it. Really, he's fine with you dressing however you want to, he just wanted you to know that it's fine in the first place. You know, some people don't prefer their girlfriends to dress like that, but he doesn't mind at all.

He knows how to keep his darling in the mindset. I think I've spoken a bit about Pannacotta's inclination for mind games and conditioning, of course he's into the process of bimbofication. So rewarding to do it himself, even more rewarding to keep his darling in such a state. It's a slow process, but it's worth it. He's more patient than his interactions with Narancia would have you believe. You're not Narancia, are you? Gooood, no you're not. It's simple, really. Reward behaviors you want to repeat, punish behaviors you want to stop. The reward depends on the darling, but the punishment.... it's Pannacotta. You can guess.

His conditioning is very slow. It takes a while to break someone in, but it takes an even longer while to learn someone's exact niche. He starts off by 'helping' with simple things. Things you can absolutely do by yourself, but are currently having an issue with. He'll use a machine for you, like a coffee machine or a ticket machine. Can't think of a word? Tell him the definition, he'll help. Pannacotta's gentle and firm, and fine with taking the time to learn what makes his darling tick. He loves to study, anyway. He'll figure out what his darling appreciates, and harp on it. It's often infantilizing, but hey, Panna's just Like That. Oftentimes both Guido and Narancia will excuse his behavior for him, the guy's a bit of a control freak. Just let him have whatever he's worried about and the guy'll go away.

He likes to emphasize the syllables in 'big' words here and there for you. Slowly says them, even. It's im...pera...tive... that you don't forget to call him back later.

Jolyne has never felt comfortable embracing her girlier side, she appreciates people that are openly feminine and comfortable about it. She just has a sort of mental block when it comes to her own femininity- she used to love being called "Jojo," and God knows what other cutesy, girly names, but now cringes at the thought. To her, femininity is vulnerability, and she's just not ready to embrace her old self again. Pretending- no, really being- tough is her new way of life. A darling that's already feminine, and needs her.... it's hitting a niche she didn't think she'd like.

Honestly, the dumber they are, the better. The first time Jolyne ever heard her darling say "Huuuh?" it was love. She wouldn't consider herself to be above average when it comes to stuff like that, but she's smart enough, in her eyes. She loooves when her darling asks her questions- rely on her. Keep coming to her. No, she's got zero fuckin' idea how half of the shit you're asking about works, but she can read something and sum it up for you. Maybe read it to you, add in a few extra words she thinks you don't know... (Author's note: Jolyne actually does know some niche things, she pulls out a Mobius strip in canon. Her intelligence and creativity is negated by the fact that darling is probably asking if she knows if there's carbs in butter. No idea, sweetheart.... no idea. Let's go look.)

Jolyne isn't really one for mind games, so breaking in her darling isn't going to come naturally. She's more likely to fall for someone that's already like that, or shows signs of it. Jolyne's someone that struggles to use her words, but finds it easy to do things for someone she likes or bring them gifts. Girls like you like makeup, yeah? Here. She'll leave it where only you could find it- assuming you're both in jail, she'd put it in your bed, under the covers. Seriously prays you aren't all tuckered out after headcount and don't just drop your dead weight on this palette she had to fork over a benjamin for....

It's worth it when she gets to watch your lips as you talk. Perfect, glossy.... sooo much happier now that she's helping you express yourself... Huh? She heard you, yeah. Say it again though, but slower...

[cucumberteapot]

Ugh! I love how so unapologetically punk this film. Obviously, there's Hobie with his battle jacket and electric guitar, and his whole Vibe™ immediately comes to mind, but the subgroups of punk are so deeply entrenched throughout the entire movie.

Like Hobie's style, in particular, reminds me so much of how British punk fashion is accumulating old, worn, even ugly pieces of clothing and turning it into something cool. It's thrift stores. It's hand-me-downs. It's customisations. It's momentos from friends. Maybe even piercings done by friends. It's about taking things from different places and making them your own - which is exactly how Hobie ends up making the dimension travel watch. Another thing is Hobie's blue laces, which I've been told is punk-code for having killed a police officer. We as audience members can go back and forth on whether ATSV is a copaganda film or has its themes, but I believe that tiny detail about Hobie is huge for a film distributed from a country that often values authoritative institutions more than it citizens.

Gwen is implicitly trans and shaves half her head, which is, from my understanding, HUGE for trans women who experience gender dysphoria. A lot of Gwen's fashion and prom dress especially reminds me of Hayley Williams in the late 2000s-early 2010s. It's very experimental, which I feel matches her age and uncertainty about being Spiderwoman, her dad, and Peter's death.

There's also a lot of concept art for Gwen's hair where her side-cut becomes an undercut and she wears it in a pony tail or bun and I just think they're so cool - D especially.

Miles G Morales' design is so heavily inspired by alternative goth fashion and techwear - a mix of combat attire and hip-hop streetwear. It's loose yet slick with it's own customisations in the crown-cut collar and the spray-paint insignia, and incorporates high-advanced technology in the mask.

It's futuristic. A what-could-be. And specifically what Miles could've been if he wasn't bit by the spider. Another cool thing, I don't know if this is related but worth pointing out, is that Prowler wears a modified (leather, bomber, varsity??) jacket. That's kinda crazy for an superhero/anti-hero suit if you think about it. Most of the time you'll see Marvel or DC characters running around in a spandex suit or (for women) almost nothing at all. But like Hobie we see how Miles G styles himself even when he's disguised. Like I wouldn't be surprised if his outfit change was just turning the jacket inside out like a sukajan jacket.

ATSV has so many characters with the own specific styles and it's really nice to see where most franchises are all or nothing when it comes to character design aesthetics.

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 14

Part 13

Steve’s schedule kept him busy, which he was certainly glad for. He didn’t have a lot of time to think about his father, or the kingdom that wouldn’t miss him. Any thoughts of his uselessness or his failure at being a proper prince were pushed out when Dustin asked him a random question, or Lucas needed his help, or he had to go up against Max’s wit.

About every other night, he was visited by his feathered friend. It didn’t come bearing food. And in fact, didn’t really come in. Steve would just catch it sometimes, peering at him from the window for a moment before flying off. Almost like it was checking in on him.

Steve made Lucas stop in his attack and nudged his foot with the tip of his staff, widening his stance. Steve was making Lucas try out different weapons and fighting styles to see what truly fit him.

“I know swords are really popular. But there’s more than one way to defend yourself.”

He’d been watching his movements closely and paying attention to how he reacted to things. Honestly, Lucas seemed more suited to something long range. Perhaps archery. Steve had yet to see a range but any castle would employ some sort of archer garrison. 

Steve saw black wings soar briefly overhead, but of course he didn’t connect it to the ones that flapped by his window most nights. Why would he?

He was given the task of reshelving books in the library. An easy task since the sections were labeled for organization. At the tail end of this task, he noticed Dustin and El pouring over a book, seeming deep in their studies. Interest piqued, he approached them.

“What are you two getting into?”, he asked.

“Animal husbandry”, El answered.

“Eddie said if we’re responsible, we can get a pet”, Dustin said. “So we’re trying to decide what sort of animal to get.”

Steve looked over their shoulders to see what kind of creatures they were looking at. He didn’t know whether to expect a demogorgon or a cat. Either one seemed likely with these people. He honestly wasn’t prepared for the picture of an octopus. Steve was no stranger to the ocean. His kingdom had a shore that he had been too often and he was a talented swimmer. This place was landlocked though. 

“Where are you going to find and octopus?”, Steve asked.

“The ocean”, Dustin said like Steve was a child.

“You think it’s going to be that easy to transport it?”

“It’s funny you think that’s the issue”, Robin said, appearing from one of the shelves. “How are they gonna keep it here?”

“It’d be fine in a bathtub”, Steve reasoned.

The look on Robin’s face could only be described as exasperation as she blew out a breath and shook her head. But Steve was used to it at this point. The kids saw him as just a new fixture to their home, had just about accepted him completely. It was everyone else that continued to treat him for what he was, a prince who had wanted this kingdom’s downfall until just recently.

But sometimes…

Sometimes there were moments where he felt something changing between himself and them. Robin didn’t always look like she was the one babysitting him anymore. It was still obviously a chore to her, but not as bad as it had been at the beginning. She was even beginning to tolerate him.

A week before the festival, the kids were given new clothes, both for the celebration and to look nice for the performance. Steve couldn’t help but be a tad jealous of the colors and patterns. His own meager wardrobe was an assortment of brown, gray, and white. But he kept his feelings off his face, choosing instead to encourage them to appreciate the new outfits.

“Why can’t we just wear what we normally do?”, Dustin asked.

“Because it’s a special occasion”, Steve rolled his eyes. “Do you know how many people would kill to have a royal seamstress make them a custom outfit?”

“I think I’d kill to not have to wear this”, Mike said, holding up something orange.

“Big talk from someone who squealed at a spider the other day”, Eddie said, entering the room. 

Steve noted that the king’s clothing was usually dark, typically blacks and deep reds. Even as others were moving to brighter, more colorful looks for spring. He didn’t know why he expected different. He didn’t like admitting it, but the king’s appearance was striking in its own way. He always cut an impressive figure, despite being about the same height as Steve. It was a combination of the way he carried himself, his silhouette, and having pointed canines didn’t hurt either.

Among them all, Steve felt like a piece of the background which was…new. And he was sure if he liked it. He supposed it was better than wearing a sign that said he was the son of the Harringtons. He already got glares from people in the castle as it was anytime he was alone. Steve wasn’t fearful for his life. He was pretty confident in his ability to defend himself in a fight. It was a question of what would happen to him once he did. Would the king be so welcoming if he snapped the neck of a guard trying to end him?

—----------------------

Robin and Eddie stood and listened as the kids played the song they’d been practicing in the music room. A lilting piece that heralded the end of winter and the beginning of spring. Robin’s expression was pleased at the progress they’d made in such a short time. It wasn’t perfect, but most of them hadn’t ever picked up an instrument seriously before. Eddie was clapping his hands so loud, it sounded like the pop of a firework with the acoustics of the room. Steve was leaning against the wall, prepared to help put things away once they were done.

“You guys were incredible!”, Eddie praised.

And hearing it from someone they admired so much had even the more prickly of them blushing bashfully. Steve still remembered Dustin grumbling for the first couple of practices and Mike complaining when he’d been moved from lute to flute. But Robin knew what she had been doing. Steve was impressed, truly. 

“That’s why we practice”, Robin smiled.

“And it’s still days before the show”, Eddie said. “For now though, I think you all deserve a reward. So let’s head on down to the kitchen for some tarts.”

The kids all rushed out at that, Robin and Eddie following behind to make sure they didn’t bulldoze anyone over on the way. Only Steve stayed behind, getting started on putting their instruments away. He paused when he passed the clavichord. An instrument no one had picked and wasn’t included in the current arrangement. Steve felt a wave of nostalgia for his own music teacher. She was always so patient and doled out praise whenever he did well.

He let his fingers brush against the keys. He looked to the door, closed, and it sounded like the group was no longer nearby. So Steve sat down and tried out a little melody. It felt like so long since he had played and he couldn’t even blame it on his imprisonment. His parents had never been impressed with music, even when his instructor told them how good he was. He would play from time to time, just never in front of anyone.

“You shouldn’t mess with Robin’s things.”

“Agh! Fuck!”, Steve jolted in the air when the king’s voice sounded from right next to him. “Must you move in shadows?”

Eddie smirked. “It is the best way to travel, but this time I just used the door. I didn’t know you played.” He put a hand against the frame, steading himself as he leaned over, hair falling over his shoulders. 

Steve looked away from him, not understanding why the gaze felt so intense. “I don’t…much.”

“What other hidden talents are you hiding?”

At that, Steve raised a brow, wondering what he was getting at. Did the king still think he was harboring something? Was he of the same mind as Nancy? Steve had nothing up his sleeve and nothing to hide, so he answered.

“I can also play the hurdy gurdy, but that’s not as popular as this.”

And then the king laughed.

At something Steve had said.

“Come on, I promised a sweet for all those who put in good work. That includes you, little prince.”

The king offered his hand to help Steve to his feet. Steve stared for a moment before taking it.

Part 15

Tag team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock��@queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug @lil-gremlin-things

[jacarandaaaas]

mirabels birthday so here’s some headcanons !!!🦋💘

- she zones out a LOT! whatever she’s working on/ thinking about takes priority in her mind so she accidentally gets so invested she could forget someone’s talking to her! (this doesn’t help in school)

- She’s a try hard on everything! probably stems from her giftless status but she gets frustrated if she can’t be up to standards! she ends up exhausting herself or burning out because she overworks herself!

- social butterfly! she’s a people person and loves talking to both the adults and the kids! she loves validation from the adults and being a role model to the kids!

- never stops talking😭 mirabels a professional yapper🙏 DONT ever ask her to explain what she’s working on because she will not shut up ever!!!

- carries around a sketchbook with her and goes to different parts of the encanto for inspiration! she might just doodle a motif or theme but it’s always something! she uses it later in her projects

- stealing @spooky-spextre-arts hc here but I love this one sm!! after Antonio’s plushie he tells the other kids and she makes a load of plushies for everyone!!

- she painted the mural in family madrigal! I think alma is aware mirabels artsy and would have asked her to do it! since it’s special commission that’s why the husbands are absent! mirabel was just so excited to be asked! Also it fits her art style

- she makes clothes! She designs them AND makes them!!

- she has friends! she’s incredibly social and I refuse to believe there’s only 2 teens in the encanto

- she likes cooking with julieta! even if she’s not the best at it she just appreciates the time with her mother!

- she helps Luisa discover her own style! since Luisa’s outfit is for work mirabel makes her other outfits to wear on her days off

- when she gets a crush she’s super annoying about it! Love language is acts of service!

- makes fun of camilo for being cringe (she is also cringe)

- Antonio is her fave cousin (this ones basically canon)

- a home bird!! she can’t ever picture herself leaving the encanto and this causes some friction between her and isa because isa does leave at some point!

- vents to casita about anything and everything (they are best friends)

- still struggles with opening up to people post movie. she’s not user to all the attention on her and gets overwhelmed often (she would never admit it)

- more street smart than book smart and is average in school but prefers art

- hates her birthdays (this one’s sad ik) but not only is it the anniversary of her ceremony but the day bruno left and in her mind the beginning of the cracks! she’s getting better but it’s still hard! (Her family spoil her for this exact reason)

- when she’s not playing music in the town she often plays with Felix and Dolores!

🌵isabela headcanons dolores headcanons🎀

[jaykaysthicthighs]

drunken actions? | jjk

excerpt | going to a party, trying to have fun, taking your worries away... sounds like the best night... right?

warnings | smut, fluff, angst?, porn with plot, alcohol consumption, strong language, unprotective sex, jk does not have pull out game, kind of rough sex, slight dirty talk, deep talks, slight age gap, jk being a tease but also has a protective possessive side, reader being impulsive and kind of stupid, jealous jk, upset jk, sad reader but she's just human, maybe more?

wc | 10.8K +

You held up the shimmering midnight blue dress, letting it drape from your fingertips. You examined it in the mirror, tilting your head from side to side with a pensive expression. “Too much? Or just enough?” You asked, a playful gleam in your eyes as you looked over at Luna, who was sprawled across the bed surrounded by a chaotic sea of makeup products, jewelry, and about three outfits that had already been vetoed.

Luna squinted, tapping her chin with a sparkly lavender nail. “It’s just enough if we’re aiming for ‘sophisticated mystery’ but too much if we’re trying for ‘girl next door,’” she replied thoughtfully, then burst out laughing at her own over-analysis. “No, ____, it’s perfect. That shade was basically made for you.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks at the compliment. “You really think so?” You pressed the dress to your frame, examining how the deep blue complimented your skin tone and brought out the brightness in your eyes. You weren’t usually one for glamorous parties— preferred cozy nights in with Luna, watching movies and critiquing each other’s style choices from the comfort of your couch. But tonight was different. It was the last big summer party before everyone scattered off to college, and you had finally been convinced to go all out.

“You look like a goddess,” Luna declared dramatically, throwing one of her own shirts over her shoulder like a diva. “Now sit down and let me do your makeup.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were still figuring out what you’re wearing?”

Luna shrugged. “I can multitask. Besides, you’re my canvas for tonight.” She patted the bed beside her. “Come on. We’re going bold.”

With a sigh that was more playful than genuine, you sat down, giving yourself over to Luna’s artistry. Luna was a whiz with makeup; she could transform even the most tired, “I’ve-been-studying-all-night” face into something fresh and fierce. You closed her eyes as Luna started dabbing foundation on her skin, her fingers light and precise.

“Did you see who texted in the group chat about the party?” Luna asked, a mischievous note in her voice. “Your favorite tall, dark, and brooding might just be there.” You opened one eye, feigning indifference. “Who, Adam?”

Luna rolled her eyes. “Yes, Adam! I’m telling you; he’s into you. That time you spilled coffee on him was fate, ____!”

You snorted, trying not to smudge the makeup Luna was carefully applying. “Right. Fate. Or just really bad luck. He didn’t exactly look thrilled when he was trying to wipe espresso off his shirt.”

“But he looked at you, didn’t he?” Luna smirked. “That’s basically the first step to falling in love.”

“I don’t think him shooting me a death glare counts as looking at me in that way, Lu,” you replied, though you couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at your lips. Truthfully, Adam had been looking at you a lot in class recently, and maybe you weren’t as immune to his mysterious charm as you pretended to be.

Might be evil to say but you just really loved the attention he was giving you. You loved the feeling of knowing that someone might be interested in little ol’ you. Deep down the only one you have eyes on is a certain someone.

“Oh, come on. Live a little! Tonight’s your night,” Luna said, dusting a soft rose blush onto your cheeks. “You’re finally going to let people see the real ____—well, the glamorous version of the real ____. No hoodies, no messy buns. Just…goddess.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Okay, okay, I’ll try to live up to this new title you’ve given me. But you know I’m only doing this because you asked me to come.”

“And that’s why you’re my best friend,” Luna said with a grin, now moving on to eyeshadow. She took a deep breath and held up two palettes, one a shimmering bronze, the other a bold, smoky grey. “All right, do we want ‘smoky siren’ or ‘golden glow’? What vibe are we channeling?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Let’s do the smoky look. If I’m going to try this whole ‘mysterious’ thing, I might as well commit.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with approval. “Love it. You’re going to be unstoppable tonight.”

As Luna layered the shades onto your eyelids, you guys fell into an easy silence, the only sound being the light scrape of brushes and the occasional clink of products being moved around. Outside, the sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm glow into the room and adding to the cozy, excited atmosphere. It felt almost surreal that this might be one of the last times you two would have a night like this.

“So, what about you?” You asked, opening your eyes when Luna gave you the go-ahead. “What are you wearing, Miss Indecisive?”

Luna shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I…honestly can’t decide. Part of me wants to go full-on fairy princess, with the glitter and the whole nine yards. But then…I kind of want to wear something edgy. Leather jacket, combat boots—you know, ‘don’t mess with me’ vibes.”

You tilted her head, studying your friend. “Why not both?”

Luna’s eyebrows shot up. “Both? How do you mean?”

“Well, like…a dress that’s flowy but maybe pair it with the combat boots and a jacket? Sort of like…an ethereal rebel look?”

Luna gasped, her eyes lighting up. “____! You’re a genius!” She leaped up, racing over to her closet and rummaging through it with newfound energy. “This is exactly what I needed. Why didn’t I think of that?”

You chuckled. “Because that’s what I’m here for.”

With a flurry of motion, Luna tossed clothes around, holding up a pale, shimmery dress that fell just above her knees. She then slipped her black combat boots onto her feet and threw a leather jacket over her shoulder, inspecting herself in the mirror with a satisfied smile.

“What do we think?” Luna asked, twirling to show you.

Your face split into a grin. “Perfect. You look like a fairy who can throw a punch.”

“Exactly the vibe I was going for,” Luna replied, giving you a wink. “Now we’re both set to make an impression.”

You both stood there for a moment, admiring each other’s outfits, and you felt a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. You’d been friends with Luna since elementary school, and it was strange to think about how much you’d both grown. In just a few months, you two will be in different cities, different lives—but for tonight, you’re here together, ready to take on the world—or at least the party.

A text buzzed on your phone, and you glanced down to see that it was from Adam.

“Speak of the devil,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Luna leaned over, peeking at the message. “He wants to know if you’re coming. Oh my gosh, ____! He is into you!”

You playfully nudged her away. “He probably just wants to make sure I’m not going to spill anything on him again.”

“Or,” Luna said, drawing out the word, “he’s hoping to see you in that stunning dress. But whatever helps you sleep at night.”

With one last glance in the mirror, you took a deep breath. “All right, let’s do this. For you, for me, and for whatever happens tonight.

Luna looped her arm through yours as you guys made your way to the door, grinning from ear to ear. “And remember: we’re unstoppable.”

As you two headed out, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and purple, like the start of a brand new chapter. The night awaited for you, and for once, you felt ready for whatever it had in store.

You had barely stepped outside when you spotted Adam’s car idling at the curb, his familiar black Sedan parked beneath the streetlight. Luna wasted no time, hustling her out the door and onto the sidewalk, where she proceeded to yank open the passenger door.

“Shotgun!” Luna announced loudly, ignoring the bewildered look Adam threw her way.

You blinked. “Uh, don’t you want the front?”

“Nope. Tonight is your destiny or something, remember?” She gave you a grin and then leaned her head into the back window, spotting their friend Jamie already lounging in the backseat.

Adam looked over, seeming slightly surprised when you slid into the passenger seat. His gaze flicked over your outfit, pausing a moment on your face before he turned his attention back to the road. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his stare. You buckled yourself in, sneaking a quick glance his way as he shifted in his seat.

In the back, Luna had already launched into a conversation with Jamie, loudly recounting some scandalous story from last weekend. You couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath, knowing Luna’s flair for exaggeration.

Adam glanced over. “Something funny?" You shook your head, still smiling. “Just…Luna. She’s already got a whole audience back there.”

Adam smirked, one hand relaxed on the steering wheel, the other resting casually on the gear shift. “She’s got a talent for that.”

It fell into a silence, one that you wished felt more natural. You fiddled with the fabric of your dress, stealing a quick glance at him as he kept his eyes on the road. He looked good, dressed in a black button-up rolled at the sleeves. Your heart beat a little faster, and you cursed yourself for getting flustered.

It was just Adam, after all.

“So…any big plans after graduation?” he asked after a moment, his voice low and casual.

“Uh, kind of.” You shrugged, keeping your tone light. “Probably moving to the city. I got into a program out there.”

“Nice. That’s ambitious.” He looked over at you, a flash of something almost…impressed? in his expression. “Bet you’ll do well.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, meeting his gaze before looking back out the window. “What about you?”

“Sticking around for a bit,” he replied, his voice quieter. “I’ve got some things to figure out here first.” He cleared his throat, and you thought you saw his fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

Another silence settled between you two, this one feeling heavier, like words were hovering just out of reach. You glanced over, your eyes tracing the sharp angle of his jawline, wondering if he felt the same unspoken weight hanging between them.

In the backseat, Luna and Jamie were now fully immersed in a debate over which horror movies were “actually scary” versus just “cheap jump scares.”

“You know…” Adam’s voice broke your thoughts. “I, uh, almost didn’t come tonight. Figured it might be lame.”

“Oh, same,” you admitted with a laugh. “But Luna can be pretty damn persuasive.”

“Yeah, she’s like a little hurricane.” His lips curved up. “Always manages to rope people into her plans.”

You nodded, staring out the window at the blur of lights as they passed street after street. But your mind kept drifting—you couldn’t help it. Every now and then, Luna mentioned her brother, Jungkook, and your heart had an annoying habit of doing little flips at the thought of him. Even though he’d been a constant part of your life growing up as Luna’s older brother, it was only in the past year that you started looking at him differently. Not that you’d ever admit it.

Still, as they neared the party, your heart raced at the possibility of seeing him. You caught yourself imagining what he’d be wearing, how he’d probably give you one of those teasing smirks of his that made you want to punch him—or maybe kiss him. Ugh. You weren’t even sure anymore.

Adam glanced over, as if he could read your thoughts. “You seem kind of…lost in your head there,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye.

You rolled her eyes. “What, are you psychoanalyzing me now?”

He grinned. “Just noticing things. You keep fidgeting with your dress. Nervous?”

You snorted. “Nervous about what? This is just a party, Adam.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” he replied, his voice taking on a soft, amused tone. “But you don’t seem as…excited as I thought you’d be.”

You raised a brow, trying to deflect. “You think you’ve got me all figured out?”

He shrugged, a little smirk playing on his lips. “I’ve got a guess or two. You’re not as quiet as people think.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time you felt a tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Keep guessing, then. Maybe someday you’ll get it right.”

He chuckled softly, turning back to the road, but he seemed pleased with your answer. It was…nice. For the first time all night, the silence between them felt comfortable, like you guys found some kind of rhythm.

In the backseat, Luna finally noticed the lull in the front and leaned forward, poking her head between the two front seats. “So! What are we chatting about up here? Already planning our futures?”

Adam gave her a side-eye. “Just small talk, Luna. Don’t get too excited.”

Luna laughed. “Sure, sure. Just remember, ____, he only talks about ‘small talk’ with people he actually likes. And who wouldn’t, right? Adam here is a catch.” She winked dramatically, making Adam groan.

“Luna, you’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but a hint of a smile betrayed his irritation.

You just laughed, nudging Luna back. “Why don’t you go back to convincing Jamie that horror movies aren’t the worst?”

“Hey, they’re cultural masterpieces!” Luna shot back with a grin before retreating to the back, resuming her lively debate.

As they neared the party, your pulse picked up. You weren’t sure if it was because of Adam’s lingering glances or because of the hope that, somewhere in the crowd, you’d run into Jungkook. God, you hated how your thoughts kept returning to him, but you couldn’t help it. There was just something about him—something you hadn’t quite figured out yet but couldn’t ignore.

Adam parked, looking over at you one last time as he turned off the engine. “Well…ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, feeling a little spark of adrenaline as you met his gaze.

The house was already packed, pulsing with music and lights that turned everything into a haze of neon colors. As you stepped through the doorway, your senses were immediately overwhelmed—laughter, people talking over the beat of the music, a faint scent of spilled drinks, and perfume. You felt the bass thudding under your feet, echoing through your body. Luna practically squealed in excitement beside you, squeezing your arm.

“This is it! Our last summer party!” Luna grinned, her eyes wide and glittering. “Let’s go find the others!”

You nodded, looking around for any familiar faces as they navigated through the throng of people. Almost everyone you knew from high school was here—even college students, dressed up and ready to party the night away. The mix of excitement and nostalgia was infectious, and you felt your nerves slowly morphing into a strange kind of thrill.

As you reached the backyard, you spotted a few of your friends near the back. Adam leaned over, raising an eyebrow at you. “Drink?”

“Sure,” you replied, trying to sound casual even though you still felt a bit on edge. The idea of standing around awkwardly while you waited made you fidgety. “Just don’t take too long.”

Adam chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He offered you a quick wink before slipping away toward the kitchen.

As he disappeared into the crowd, Luna nudged you. “Now that we’re free from Adam’s intense vibes for a second, let’s hit the dance floor! Jamie, come on!” she called, grabbing both yours hands and pulling them through a dense patch of dancing strangers.

The dance floor had spilled out into the living room, where people swayed and shouted along to the music. Luna was instantly in her element, moving to the beat as if she’d been born for it, her laughter rising above the noise. Jamie grinned and joined in, his moves loose and carefree. You couldn’t help but smile; the mood was contagious, and you could feel your nerves slowly start to melt away.

But you were still holding back, moving just enough to blend in. Luna noticed, of course, and gave you an exasperated look.

“Seriously, ___?” Luna shouted over the music, throwing her hands up. “This is not the time to be shy. Let loose, babe! It’s a party, not a dentist’s appointment.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Easy for you to say! You were born with party energy.”

“Damn right!” Luna grabbed your shoulders, shaking you playfully. “So, channel me, okay? Forget who’s around and just…have fun.”

You sighed but gave in, starting to move a little more, letting your body feel the beat. Luna was right. You were here to have a good time, not to stay on the sidelines. Slowly, you felt yourself relax, matching your friends’ energy and letting the music take over. You laughed at Jamie’s terrible dance moves and even twirled with Luna, both of them dissolving into fits of laughter when they stumbled.

A few minutes went by, each song blending into the next, the lights flashing brighter as more people crowded onto the makeshift dance floor. You were finally letting go, feeling the energy of the crowd pull you in. You closed your eyes, laughing as Luna gave you an exaggerated spin. You felt free, almost giddy.

But then you heard Luna shout, “Fuck!” in a way that was way too loud, even over the music.

Your eyes snapped open, your heart pounding as you whipped around, trying to see what had happened. Luna’s gaze was fixed on the lounge area across the yard, where a group of people were gathered on a set of plush couches, laughing and clinking their drinks together. And right in the center, casually leaning back with a beer in his hand, was Jungkook.

He looked annoyingly good tonight—black jeans, a fitted t-shirt, and that confident posture he always carried around, like he knew the whole world was watching him. His hair was slightly messy, framing his face in a way that made him look both effortless and annoyingly put-together, his tattoos giving him a more sexy appeal. A couple of his friends were there too, all of them laughing and chatting, oblivious to the girls’ attention.

“Luna!” You hissed, elbowing her. “What was that for?”

“Uh, sorry, but…look at him!” Luna whispered back, her tone hovering between disbelief and delight. “I didn’t think he was coming!”

You tried to shrug casually, though your heart was pounding now for an entirely different reason. “So what? He’s just hanging out.”

Luna gave her a look, one that said she didn’t believe your attempt at nonchalance for a second. “Uh-huh, just hanging out. Right, ____. You’ve only been staring at him every chance you get for, like, a year. It’s disgusting. I don’t like it.”

You knew how much Luna disliked the fact you have a crush on her older brother; expressed it whenever she can. Still you couldn’t help it.

“Shut up,” You muttered, turning your gaze away, but it was too late. You’d already looked.

And unfortunately, Jungkook looked up right at that moment. His dark eyes landed on you across the yard, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he held your gaze. He didn’t wave or anything—no, that would be too simple. He just watched you with that familiar, slightly teasing expression, like he was fully aware of what effect he had on people.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you quickly looked away, trying to play it cool. But inside, you could feel your stomach doing flips.

Luna grimaced, nudging you. “Wow, did you see the way he looked at you? I swear, he’s practically daring you to go over there.”

“Oh, please.” You shook your head, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “He’s just messing with me. You know how he is.”

“Exactly! He’s messing with you because he knows you like him. It’s obvious, ____. And the way you react… you’re feeding into his ugly ego.” Luna said while keeping her face painted with disgust.

You scoffed, “I’m not obvious is the slightest! Plus you don’t have to worry Luna, I’m never gonna involve myself with him. I know his reputation.”

Before Luna could respond, Adam reappeared with a few drinks balanced in his hands. He looked between you and Luna, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, everything good here? You two look like you’re having a bad time.”

Luna sighed and grabbed her drink. “Just giving ____ a little pep talk. We spotted her crush.”

You glared at Luna, who just smirked. “Can we not?” You mumbled, taking a sip from your drink to hide your embarrassment.

Adam shot you a questioning look, his brow furrowing. “Crush?”

“Nothing. Ignore her,” you said, waving him off, though you couldn’t help but glance back at the lounge area. Jungkook was still there, laughing with his friends, looking more comfortable than anyone had a right to at a crowded backyard party.

You tried to shake it off, forcing yourself back into the moment. Adam gave you a strange look but seemed to drop it, nudging you drink up with a grin. “Well, here’s to surviving the last big summer party.”

You clinked glasses, and you laughed, feeling a little rush as the alcohol warmed you. The night was young, and you were determined not to overthink it.

Luna caught your eye with a knowing smile, mouthing, “It’s your night,” hinting towards Adam before dragging Jamie back onto the dance floor, their laughter echoing over the music. Adam leaned against the wall next to you, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes scanning the room.

For a moment, you just stood there, taking it all in. The laughter, the music, the lights, and—yes—the magnetic pull of Jungkook across the room. You didn’t know what would happen tonight, but you could feel something in the air, something that made your pulse quicken.

You glanced up at Adam, who was watching you with a slight, unreadable smile. And as your eyes drifted back to the lounge, where Jungkook caught your gaze once more, you knew one thing: this was a night you wouldn’t forget.

You sat slouched on the wooden bench by the backyard fence, completely spent from dancing and the drinks you had. The fresh night air felt cool against your flushed cheeks, but your head was spinning, and every sound around you seemed louder, funnier, somehow more ridiculous. You leaned back, looking up at the sky, watching the stars blur together with a silly smile on your face.

The party had been in full swing for well over an hour now, and almost everyone was in some state of inebriation, yourself included. Luna had been her usual chaotic self on the dance floor, and Jamie—well, he’d ended up with a girl in the corner of the yard, the two of them lost in their own little world. You squinted over at them, your muddled mind wondering how they’d managed to avoid collapsing given how unsteady Jamie had looked earlier.

Adam, meanwhile, was stuck inside, helping some friend of theirs who had clearly gone a little too hard with the drinks. You couldn’t remember who it was. You were just grateful it wasn’t you…or so you thought.

You sat there, giggling to yourself about nothing in particular, when you felt a light flick against your ear. The unexpected sensation made you jump, and you gasped dramatically, flinging yourself off the bench and landing on the grass in a clumsy heap.

“Oh my god,” you slurred, your eyes wide as you looked up at your surprise attacker.

Jungkook stood above you, his face twisted in laughter as he shook his head. “Damn, ____. You okay down there?” He extended a hand, his grin only widening when you tried to pout at him.

“Not funny!” You grumbled, though your lips were betraying you with a smile. “You scared me!”

“Didn’t think you’d, you know, throw yourself on the ground,” he chuckled, pulling you up with surprising ease. He looked you over with a smirk. “You’re a fucking mess.”

“Rude,” you mumbled, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably. Your head spun as you stood, and you swayed a little, gripping onto his arm for balance.

Jungkook snickered, steadying you. “How many drinks did you have?”

You waved your hand dismissively, squinting as you tried to remember. “Uh…not that many,” you muttered. “Just…enough to feel very nice.”

“Right,” he said, amused. “You’re fucking wasted, aren’t you?”

“I’m…no.” You shook your head, then immediately regretted it as the world seemed to tilt. You squinted up at him, struggling to focus. “Why do you care anyway? Don’t you have…people to hang out with?”

He just rolled his eyes, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, sure, all those people I don’t care about half as much as my little sister’s friend who can’t stay on her feet for more than two seconds.”

You snorted, trying to look offended but failing miserably. “Oh, well, when you put it like that, it sounds terrible.”

He smirked, nudging your shoulder as you stood there, the night buzzing around you guys. You leaned against the fence, trying to get comfortable, but you could feel yourself swaying again, as if even the ground was a little too tipsy to stand still tonight.

“Hey,” you said suddenly, your mind jumping tracks as you looked around the yard with a wide-eyed, drunken curiosity. “Where’s Luna?”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder. “Last I saw, she was—oh, never mind. There she is.” He nodded toward the opposite side of the yard, where Luna was currently locked in a passionate kiss with some guy you didn’t recognize.

“Of course,” Jungkook muttered, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “She’s always gotta make a scene.”

You giggled, watching your best friend with a lopsided grin. “She’s…she’s like a movie star, right? She’s like…uh, what’s her name…Marilyn…Monsoon or something…”

“Yeah, Marilyn Monsoon,” Jungkook snickered, humoring you as you stumbled over your words. “Shit, you really are out of it.”

You shot him a dramatic glare, your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “Whatever. I know things.” You paused, your brow furrowing as if you were solving a great mystery. “Like, did you know—wait. Never mind. I forgot.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s sit you down before you decide to spill the secrets of the universe out here.”

You sighed, letting him guide you back to the bench. The world felt so wobbly, but with his hand steadying you, you somehow felt a little less like you were floating away.

But as soon as you sat down, your stomach gave a lurch, and you grimaced. “Um…Jungkook?”

“Yeah?” he said, looking at you with mild concern.

“I don’t…I don’t feel so good,” you mumbled, gripping the edge of the bench and taking a deep breath. You pushed yourself up, wobbling on your feet, determined to get to the bathroom on your own. “I’ll…I’ll just go to the…”

But before you could finish your sentence, your foot caught on nothing in particular, and you tripped forward, stumbling wildly. Your hands shot out to steady yourself, but your balance was shot, and your face twisted in frustration.

“Why do my stupid shoes want me to fall?” You cried, feeling a wave of frustration bubble up inside you. “They’re trying to betray me!”

Jungkook watched you in amusement, a small chuckle escaping as he steadied you once more. “Your shoes, huh?”

You nodded vehemently, your face scrunching up as you blinked back unexpected tears. “Yeah, they hate me. I just wanna go to the bathroom, but they’re being so mean!”

“Alright, alright,” he said, trying not to laugh as he slipped an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get you to the bathroom before your shoes take you out completely.”

You leaned into him, still muttering under your breath about the unfairness of it all as he guided you carefully inside. The noise from the party grew louder as you stepped back into the house, people weaving in and out of rooms, and music thudding through the walls. You stumbled a few more times, clinging to Jungkook as he practically carried you down the hall.

Finally, you reached the bathroom, and Jungkook pushed open the door. “Alright, here we are.”

You stared at the sink as if it were some great mystery, your expression one of pure concentration. You clutched the counter, your gaze drifting back to him with a slightly dazed look. “Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper. “You’re like…my hero or something.”

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, don’t mention it. Just…splash some water on your face, okay? I’ll be outside.”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile before stepping out, closing the door gently behind him. Inside, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you turned on the tap. The cold water against your skin helped clear your head a bit, though you still felt that warm, dizzy buzz in the back of your mind.

As you looked at your reflection, you let out a sigh, a silly, lopsided smile creeping onto your face. “Well,” you mumbled to yourself, “at least Jungkook’s a good sport about all this…”

After a few moments, you turned off the tap, bracing yourself for the world outside the bathroom. When you opened the door, Jungkook was waiting, his expression softening as he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“Feeling any better?”

You gave a half-hearted nod, the tipsy glow still lingering but softened. “Yeah. Thanks for…you know, rescuing me.”

He just shrugged, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Hey, what are friends for?”

But his smile held a softness you hadn’t noticed before, and for a split second, you forgot all about the dizzying effects of the drinks. You felt your pulse quicken, your gaze lingering on him a little longer than it should have. And maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else, but in that moment, you didn’t mind if he were to hold you down and show you a great time.

You followed Jungkook back out to the backyard, feeling steadier and clearer now after freshening up. The night air helped you feel grounded, and you took a deep breath, savoring the coolness on your skin.

Jungkook gave you a little wave before heading over to his friends, where he was quickly wrapped up in their loud laughter and drinks. He looked so at ease, leaning back with that effortless charm he had, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness.

It was just Jungkook-Luna's older brother, the same guy who teased you endlessly. But in moments like these, when he was surrounded by people who seemed to adore him, you were reminded of just how...out of reach he felt. Like he was on a different level, someone you couldn't quite imagine yourself with, even if you wanted to.

Shaking yourself, you looked around for Adam.

Adam, you thought, was exactly what you needed right now-fun, laid-back, and most importantly, actually interested in you. You spotted him standing off to the side downing a beer and laughing with a couple of their mutual friends. Feeling a surge of confidence, you walked up to him and tapped him on the arm.

"Hey, wanna dance?" You asked, flashing him a playful grin.

He looked down at you with a glint in his eye, taking one last swig of his drink before setting it aside. "You read my mind," he said, holding out his hand and leading you to the makeshift dance floor where the music was thumping.

You started moving together, falling into an easy rhythm as falling into an easy rhythm as the music pulsed around you.

At first, you were just laughing, swaying to the beat, but after a few songs, the mood started to shift. Adam's hands found your waist, pulling you in closer, and you didn't resist, letting yourself get caught up in the thrill of the moment. His hands were warm and steady, and you felt your own arms winding around his neck as your movements became more fluid, more in sync.

As the beat of the song slowed down, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "You're really something, you know that?"

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze, and smirked. "You're just figuring that out now?"

He chuckled, tightening his grip on your hips, and swayed closer. The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person there, and you liked the attention, the way he was openly drawn to you.

But just as you were getting lost in the moment, you caught a glimpse over his shoulder.

Jungkook was watching them, his face hard, his usual relaxed expression replaced by something unreadable. He didn't look away, holding your gaze with an intensity that made your heart stutter. You knew you could stop this, maybe pull away and go talk to him instead...but something stubborn and reckless inside you made you stay right where you were.

Without overthinking it, you leaned up and closed the distance between you and Adam, your lips pressing against his in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly turned deeper as he responded. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, and you let yourself get lost in it, enjoying the thrill of his touch and the heat between them. Your heart raced, and you could feel your body pressing into his, your fingers curling into his hair as you moved in sync with the rhythm of the music around you.

"Let's...go somewhere quieter," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and inviting.

You nodded, letting him lead you through the crowded house until you found an empty room near the back. Once inside, he closed the door behind them, and in an instant, his arms were around you again, his lips finding yours with a hunger that made your heart race all over again. The quiet of the room made the moment feel even more intense, every touch amplified in the silence.

He backed you up against the wall, one of his hands slipping around your waist, the other threading into your hair as your lips met over and over again.

You felt his fingers slide up your back, pulling you closer until there was hardly any space left between you two, your pulse quickening at his touch. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake that made your breath hitch.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself savor the moment. But just as you were getting comfortable, his phone buzzed in his pocket, shattering the quiet around you. He groaned, pulling back with a frustrated sigh.

"Hold on a sec," he muttered, fishing his phone out and glancing at the screen. You watched as his eyes widened slightly, and his expression shifted.

"Sorry," he said, wincing. "It's... my ex. She's going through something, and I-I need to take this. I'll...catch you later?"

Before you could even process his words, he was already stepping away, answering the call with a hurried apology before slipping out the door, leaving you alone in the dim room.

You stood there in stunned silence, your pulse still racing, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. But now, that warmth turned cold as you realized what had just happened. You'd thought-maybe-that he'd actually liked you, that maybe this was something more than just a fleeting moment at a party. But instead, he'd left you at the drop of a hat for someone else, without a second thought.

Frustration and hurt bubbled up inside you, and you felt your throat tighten, a knot forming as you blinked back unexpected tears. You wanted to move past Jungkook, to forget how out of reach he seemed by having a good time with someone who wanted you. But maybe Adam hadn't wanted you any more than you wanted him; maybe you'd both just been looking for someone to fill the moment.

Taking a shaky breath, you sank down onto the edge of the bed, your mind spinning with a mix of anger and disappointment.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your mind racing with frustration and embarrassment. How could you have let yourself get so caught up with Adam, only for him to leave you like you were nothing? You gritted your teeth, feeling the sting of rejection simmering beneath your skin. Refusing to sit there feeling pathetic, you stood up with a sudden determination. You weren’t going to let him—or anyone else—make you feel this way.

With a deep breath, you smoothed your hair, squared your shoulders, and pushed the door open. As you stepped back out into the noise of the party, the beat of the music pounded against your chest, urging you forward. Without thinking twice, you grabbed a drink from a nearby table and downed it, savoring the sharp burn that chased your anger away, if only temporarily. You could feel your mind getting hazier, each sip blurring the lines of your frustration.

As the alcohol worked its way into your system, your inhibitions began to melt. You didn’t want to think about Adam, about Jungkook, or about how out of place you felt all night. You just wanted to lose yourself in the noise, in the movement. You drifted onto the dance floor, finding yourself in the middle of a group of strangers who welcomed you into their circle with easy smiles and laughter.

One of the guys—a tall, dark-haired stranger with a grin that matched your energy—reached for your hand, and you took it without hesitation. The two of them spun around, his hands guiding your hips as they moved to the beat. Another guy joined in, and soon you were sandwiched between them, laughing and moving without a care. The world around you blurred, the faces and lights mixing together as you danced, drink after drink passing through your hands.

You barely registered one of the voices near you—a voice you only faintly recognized—calling out, “Yo, ____’s totally gone. Somebody should get her a cab before she crashes or something.”

Jungkook, who had been laughing with his friends by the wall, snapped to attention. He turned toward the dance floor, his eyes scanning the crowd until he spotted you, swaying unsteadily, eyes glazed, and half-stumbling with every movement. His jaw tightened, and he immediately excused himself, pushing his way through the crowd toward you.

“Alright, enough,” he muttered, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you toward the exit.

You tried to resist, tugging your arm back, but your coordination was long gone. “L-let go of me,” you slurred, stumbling as he led you out of the house. “I—I was…dancing…”

“Yeah, and you were about two seconds from face-planting,” Jungkook snapped, steering you firmly out the door and toward his car. “What the hell were you thinking, ____? Do you even know how drunk you are right now?”

You squinted up at him, your expression one of defiance. “I—I was just having fun,” you managed, though the words came out garbled.

“Having fun? Dancing with random guys and drowning yourself in alcohol isn’t ‘fun,’ it’s reckless,” he shot back, opening the passenger door and guiding you in with a little too much force, though he was careful not to hurt you.

You gave a half-hearted push, trying to protest as he buckled you in, but all that came out were more incoherent words, your head lolling as you fought to keep your eyes open. The moment he got into the driver’s seat, he whipped out his phone, dialing Luna’s number.

“Where’s…Luna?” You mumbled, your head leaning back against the seat, eyes fluttering as you tried to focus on him.

“That’s exactly what I want to know,” he muttered under his breath, glancing down as the phone went straight to voicemail. He cursed softly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Goddammit, Luna,” he muttered, his irritation growing as he shoved the phone back into his pocket.

Turning his attention back to you, he let out a long sigh, his jaw clenching as he tried to contain his anger. “____, you’re eighteen, not some clueless fucking kid. You should know better than to get this drunk when there’s no one looking out for you.”

You shrugged, giving a careless, almost taunting smile. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Because fucking someone has to, clearly,” he shot back, his tone harsher than he intended. He took a breath, forcing himself to stay calm as he pulled out of the driveway and started down the street. The drive to your place was at least half an hour, and there was no way he’d leave you on your own in this state.

“I was fine…” you muttered, crossing your arms and sinking deeper into the seat, though your words were slurred. “I was just…having a good time…”

He glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing. “You call that a good time? Stumbling around drunk, with people you don’t even know? Trust me, you’re lucky I got to you before someone else did.”

You rolled your eyes, though your head felt too heavy to keep it straight. “I don’t…need you to rescue me,” you grumbled, though your voice wavered, your bravado quickly slipping away.

“Yeah? Could’ve fooled me,” he replied, his tone cold. “You’re acting like a damn child right now, ____. Eighteen doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how to take care of yourself.... Fuck!”

Your mouth opened to protest, but you were too tired, too foggy to argue, so you just slumped further into the seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. Somewhere in your muddled mind, his words hit a sore spot, an ache you hadn’t realized you been ignoring all night.

The rest of the drive was quiet, Jungkook’s hands gripping the wheel tightly, his gaze fixed ahead. When you finally pulled up to his place, he turned off the engine and let out a heavy sigh before getting out and coming around to help you. You stumbled as you tried to get out, your legs feeling like jelly, and he caught you, his grip firm but gentle.

“Come on,” he muttered, guiding you up the steps to his apartment. Inside, the lights were dim, and he led you to the couch, helping you sit before grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen and setting it on the coffee table in front of you.

“Drink,” he instructed, crossing his arms as he stood over you, watching as you took a hesitant sip.

You avoided his gaze, your fingers fiddling with the glass as you mumbled, “You don’t…have to babysit me, you know.”

“No, but apparently someone has to,” he replied, his tone still sharp but softer than before. He sighed, running a hand over his face, looking tired and frustrated. “What were you even thinking tonight, ____? Getting that drunk, dancing with random guys… It’s like you wanted to make a mess out of everything.”

You didn’t answer, your face heating up with embarrassment and anger as you set the glass down, unable to meet his eyes. You came here looking for a good time, hoping to forget about everything that had been bothering you, but instead, you ended up right here, feeling like an idiot in front of him.

He watched you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly as he took in your slumped posture, the tired, vulnerable look in your eyes. “Look, I get it. You wanted to have fun. But…you have to take care of yourself too, alright? This isn’t you, ____.”

You looked up, meeting his gaze finally, your throat tightening at the concern you saw in his eyes, even through his frustration. For a moment, you wanted to tell him everything, to explain how you felt out of place, how you tried to lose yourself in the party, in Adam, in anything that made you forget how small you felt all night. But the words caught in your throat, and all you could do was nod, the weight of your exhaustion finally settling over her.

Jungkook let out a long sigh, moving to sit beside you on the couch. He reached over, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Just…promise me you won’t pull something like this again. You’re better than that.”

You nodded again.

You sat there, your head leaning back against the couch, eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. The quiet between you and Jungkook felt charged, almost tangible, like there was something you should say but couldn’t quite find the courage. You took a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper as the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“I…like you, Jungkook,” you murmured, your heart pounding in your chest as soon as the confession left your lips.

The moment you realized what you said, a rush of embarrassment flooded your cheeks. You wanted to take it back, to laugh it off as some drunk mistake, but Jungkook didn’t give you that out. He just watched you with a soft, knowing expression, a small, amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “I kind of figured.”

Your cheeks flushed even more, and you buried your face in your hands. “Oh, god, I can’t believe I said that,” you mumbled, your voice muffled.

He chuckled softly, nudging you with his shoulder. “Relax, ____. It’s not like it was a big secret. You’re very easy read. Plus, you don't know how amusing you are.”

You peeked out from between your fingers, still mortified but also grateful that he wasn’t laughing at you. Instead, he just sat there, watching you with a calm that felt grounding in your swirling haze of embarrassment. You dropped your hands, sighing as you slumped back, finally letting yourself relax again.

The confession, now out in the open, loosened you up, and you found yourself spilling everything about what had happened with Adam. You told him how Adam had left you alone, how he’d made you feel disposable, like just another girl he could cast aside at the slightest distraction. With every word, you felt the ache in your chest grow, and when you looked at Jungkook, you saw a familiar fire simmering in his eyes, his jaw tight with barely restrained anger.

“I can’t believe he did that to you,” Jungkook muttered, his voice low and edged with a protectiveness that made your heart clench. “He’s a damn idiot.”

“It already happened, Jungkook,” you murmured, giving him a weak smile. “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s just…leave it in the past.”

But you could see the tension in his posture, the way his hands were clenched tightly in his lap. He looked ready to storm out the door and find Adam himself. When he finally looked at you, his gaze softened, and he reached up, brushing a stray lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You don’t deserve that, ____,” he said quietly, his voice full of a gentle warmth. “You deserve someone who actually sees you, not someone who’s just looking for a quick thrill.”

Something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, made your heart flutter, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft, tentative, and you felt him freeze, caught off guard. You immediately pulled back, your cheeks burning as you realized what you just done.

Jungkook looked at you, surprise evident on his face, and he gently placed his hands on your shoulders, steady but firm. “____,” he said slowly, his voice calm but cautious, “what…what are you doing?”

You swallowed, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you didn’t pull away from him. “I just…I just want to feel wanted, Jungkook. Especially by you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability shining in your eyes.

He took a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “____, you’re drunk. You don’t really know what you’re saying right now.”

“But I do,” you insisted, your words soft but certain. “Drunk words are sober thoughts, right? Being drunk…It’s just giving me the confidence to finally say it. And to show you how I feel.”

Jungkook let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck, looking torn. His gaze softened, full of conflicting emotions as he studied you, a gentle concern clouding his eyes. “____… I’m four years older than you. I’m your best friend’s brother. This…this isn’t something I can take lightly, you know? And with you being like this…” He shook his head, his voice trailing off.

You looked down, your heart sinking a bit as you processed his words. But you couldn’t shake the feeling, the ache in your chest that had been there for so long. “I know it’s complicated,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t ignore it. Not anymore.”

He sighed again, this time softer, more thoughtful, as he gently took your hand, his thumb rubbing small, comforting circles against your skin. “Listen,” he began, his voice low and steady. “What you’re feeling…that’s real. And I won’t lie when I say that you definitely take over my mind when I don’t want you to,” he admitted, his gaze dropping as if admitting it aloud was somehow a betrayal. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you. Especially not like this.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission, and you felt a glimmer of hope spark within you, despite the exhaustion and the haze of the night. He cared. He genuinely cared. And that was more than you could’ve asked for.

Jungkook took a breath, squeezing your hand lightly as he looked at you, his gaze soft and steady. “For now, let’s just…get you some rest. And tomorrow, when you’re sober, we’ll talk. Really talk. But tonight, you need to get some sleep.”

Without wanting to end the night, you built up the courage and climbed on top of his lap. Jungkook looked at you with astonishment. “____, stop.” He firmly said. His hands gripped your waist trying to contain any more movement.

"I thought we'd talk in the morning," he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his warm breath on your lips, and it took everything in you not to kiss him right then and there. But you had already taken a leap of faith, and you weren't about to back down now.

With a determined glint in your eyes, your slender legs started hugging his muscular thighs. You placed your soft hands on his broad chest, feeling the ink of his tattoos beneath your hot palms. Leaning close, you whispered, "I don't want to wait anymore, Jungkook. I want you."

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly at your forwardness, but he didn't resist. Instead, his hands tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you closer. "What are you doing to me, ____? What will become of me when I do this?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire.

Your heart pounding in your chest. Your hands gently cupped his beautiful face. "I want you, Jungkook. I want you and everything you have to give me. Just figure it out afterwards." your voice steady despite your nerves. And then you claimed his lips in a hungry kiss.

Your mouths moved in perfect sync, tongues dancing and exploring. Jungkook's hands roamed over your body, cupping your curves possessively. He slid his hands under your shirt, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your smooth lower back. His every touch makes you arch with a heavenly feeling. You moaned into his mouth, the sound fueling his passion.

Breaking the kiss, Jungkook nipped at your jawline, sending shivers down your body. "We should slow down," he breathed, his words contradicting the urgency in his touch.

"No," You panted, your hands tugging at his shirt, eager to feel his warm skin. "I know you want this just as badly as I do. I don't want to wait anymore, Jungkook. Please..."

He groaned, surrendering to your demand. With swift movements, he lifted you, and you both stood, never breaking the embrace. "Fuck... this blue dress is doing things to me... to bad it's getting off your gorgeous body." Jungkook's hands worked quickly, discarding your shirt, revealing your black lace bra and the swell of your breasts. He paused for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, before his fingers deftly unhooked the bra, setting you free.

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and you felt a rush of excitement as Jungkook's eyes darkened with hunger. He bent his head, capturing one taut peak in his warm mouth, sucking gently. Your head fell back, hands tangling in his hair, encouraging him. His tongue teased and flicked, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Jungkook..." you whispered, your voice breathless. "I need more..."

He chuckled, the vibrations sending a delicious shiver through you. "Impatient, are we?" He trailed kisses down your slick neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands traveled lower, sliding over your soft skin, past your navel, until he reached the waistband of your matching thong.

You gasped as his fingers stroked you through the damp fabric of your panties, finding the wetness between your thighs, His touch electric against your sensitive skin. "You're so ready for me," he murmured, his voice thick with hunger.

"Please," you begged, your hips moving against his hand. "I want you inside me, Jungkook."

Jungkook's response was to lift you again, this time carrying you to the couch. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. The determination in his gaze sent a thrill through your body. You knew he was going to take control, and the thought excited you beyond measure.

He knelt between your thighs, his eyes raking over your exposed body. You felt a surge of power in your vulnerability, seeing the raw desire etched on his handsome face. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid your pretty black thong down your legs, leaving you completely bared to his gaze.

Jungkook's breath hitched as he took in the sight of your glistening folds. "You're so beautiful," he rasped, his voice hoarse. He leaned down, replacing his fingers with his mouth, his tongue parting you tenderly.

You cried out, your hands gripping the cushions as he gifted you with long, slow strokes. His tongue was relentless, teasing and tasting you, sending you spiraling towards ecstasy. You bucked against his mouth, your hips moving in rhythm with his licks and sucks.

"Jungkook, I'm close!" you cried, your voice high and urgent.

He pulled away, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "Not yet, little one" he darkly chuckled. "I want you to come with me inside you."

You whimpered, your body aching for release. You reached for him, your hands finding the button of his jeans. With trembling fingers, you undid his pants, eager to free him from the confines of his clothing.

Jungkook rose above you, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed his jeans down his thighs, revealing his impressive erection. Your breath caught at the sight of him, thick and hard, the head glistening with pre-cum.

"Touch me," he commanded, his voice rough with need.

Your fingers wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly, your thumb brushing over the sensitive tip. Jungkook hissed, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Fuck, ____," he groaned, his eyes rolling back slightly.

You smiled, a mix of shyness and newfound confidence. "Do you like that?" you asked, your voice low and sultry.

"Fuck yes," he lowered, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading your legs wider. "But I want to feel you around me."

With that, he positioned himself at your entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging your wet, hot center. Your breath caught, anticipation mingling with a hint of nervousness. You were about to be filled by this man, taken in a way you had only dreamed of.

Jungkook pushed forward, slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body stretching to accommodate him. You felt incredibly full, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

"Open your eyes, ____," Jungkook whispered, his voice hoarse. "Look at me."

You obeyed, meeting his intense gaze. The vulnerability in your eyes only seemed to fuel his passion. He began to move, withdrawing almost entirely before thrusting back into you, filling you completely.

"Oh god," you moaned, your hands clutching at his shoulders. "You feel so good..."

Jungkook set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward, driving into you again and again. His breath came in harsh gasps, his body glistening with sweat. You matched his rhythm, your nails digging into his skin, leaving marks that would remind you both of this moment.

"Harder," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, Jungkook, fuck me harder."

He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, more primal. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps. Your pleasure built, coiling tighter with each thrust, until you were hovering on the edge of oblivion.

"I'm close," Jungkook grunted, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. "I'm so close, ____."

"Don't hold back," you panted, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I want to feel you come, Jungkook. I want it all."

Your words sent him over the edge. With a guttural cry, Jungkook plunged into you, his hips moving in a frenzied rhythm. You cried out, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm claimed you. You felt him spasm, his hot seed filling you, each pulse of his cock sending you even higher.

You rode the waves of your guy's pleasure together, your bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in unison. Jungkook collapsed onto the couch, his weight pressing you into the cushions, but you didn't mind. You ran your hands over his back, tracing the lines of his tattoos, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Shit!" Jungkook immediately went to grab his shirt and with speed but with gentleness wiped the white liquid spilling out from you. "I'm sorry, ____. I'll buy you Plan B!" he said with urgency.

You grabbed his arm and pulled him back on the couch with you. "Don't worry. I'm on the pill." Jungkook looked at you with surprised, "You fucking other people?"

"You fucking other people?" you questioned back.

You both lightly laughed and went back to reeling in about what just happened.

The room was soon then quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional creak of the bed as you shifted under the covers. The air was heavy, thick with unspoken words and the lingering heat of what had just happened.

You glanced over at Jungkook, his broad shoulders leaning against the arm rest of the couch, the soft glow from the tableside lamp painting golden streaks across his skin. His dark hair was a mess, framing his face in a way that made your heart skip. He wasn’t looking at you, though. His gaze was fixed ahead, as if deep in thought, his jaw clenched slightly.

“So…” Your voice was small, hesitant. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say, but the silence was starting to feel suffocating.

He turned his head toward you then, his brown doe eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you saw something flicker there—concern, maybe? Or guilt? It was hard to tell.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low, careful.

You nodded, “Yeah… I think so. I mean, I don’t regret it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He exhaled, a sound that was part relief and part something else entirely. “Good. That’s… good.”

The words felt heavy, like they were supposed to mean more than they did.

“I mean it, Jungkook.” You sat up a little, propping yourself on one elbow. “I’ve liked you for—well, for some time now. So, this wasn’t just some… drunk mistake for me.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension in his posture eased. “I know,” he murmured. “I’ve noticed.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You have?”

He gave a small, lopsided smile. “You’re not exactly subtle, ____.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Great. So, I’ve been embarrassing myself this whole time.”

“No, not like that.” He reached out, gently pulling your hands away from your face. His touch was warm, grounding. “It was… sweet. Kind of hard not to notice when you light up every time I walk into a room.”

“Ugh, you’re making it worse,” you muttered, but you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, and it felt like the rest of the world had faded away. But then reality started to creep back in.

“This… complicates things,” Jungkook said, his tone more serious now.

You swallowed hard. “Because of Luna?”

He nodded. “She’s your best friend. And my sister. If she finds out about this, she’s going to fucking kill me. I know how indifferent she is about you liking me. She would always tell me that I should never make any moves to you cause she doesn't want me to hurt you.”

“She wouldn’t kill you,” you said, though even you weren’t entirely convinced. “She might maim you a little, though. But it also isn't her decision.”

He chuckled, the sound lightening the mood just a fraction. “Yeah, that sounds more like her... and your right.”

A beat of silence passed before you spoke again. “But… do you regret it?”

His expression shifted, and he looked at you like you’d just asked the most ridiculous question. “No. I don’t regret it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is…” He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re eighteen, and I’m twenty-two. And you’re still in high school.”

“Technically, I graduate in a month,” you interjected.

He gave you a pointed look. “Still. You’re young, and there’s this… power imbalance, I guess.”

You frowned. “You’re making it sound way worse than it is.”

“I’m just trying to be realistic, ____,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to… rush into anything just because you’ve liked me for a while.”

“Jungkook,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “I know what I want. I’ve known for a long time. And I’m not some naive kid who’s going to get swept up in a fantasy. I know this is messy and complicated, but… I care about you. And I think you care about me too.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to find the right answer. Finally, he nodded. “I do care about you. A lot more than I probably should.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but in a good way.

“So, what do we do now?” you asked.

He sighed again, but this time it felt less heavy. “I don’t know. Maybe we take it slow? Figure things out as we go?”

“Slow is good,” you said with a small smile. “But… you have to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t treat me like a kid. If we’re going to try this, I need you to see me as your equal.”

He smirked, leaning in closer. “You just had to get the last word in, didn’t you?”

“Always,” you replied, grinning.

He shook his head, but there was a fondness in his expression that made your heart swell.

“I’m serious, though,” you added, your tone softening. “This… whatever it is, it means a lot to me. And I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You’re not going to mess it up,” he said firmly. “We’re not going to mess it up. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Okay.”

For the first time that night, you felt a sense of calm settle over you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t going to be easy, but at least you weren’t alone in this.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You should get some rest. You’ve had a long night.”

“So have you,” you pointed out, smirking.

“Fair enough,” he said with a laugh, lying back down beside you.

You curled up next to him, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring beneath your ear.

As your eyelids grew heavy, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Whatever the future held, you knew you’d face it together. And for now, that was enough.

[candycandy00]

CANDYYY!! Congratulations on 2k followers!! You deserve every single one of them!! 💕💕

I saw the build your own fanfic adventure and you know I have to get in on this soooooooo:

Character: Dabi (what a surprise there 😂)

AU setting: Honestly I'm so stuck between Gothic Mansion and Monster Forest, I'll let you decide!!

Spice level: screw it let's go all the way, NSFW bb

Mood: I'll leave it up to you! You know me, I could go either way!

Kink: ugh I'll indulge a little today, Breeding/Daddy kink (sometimes I like being taken care of, you know?? 😂😂)

Have fun my love! 😘 Can't wait to read Choso's chapter!!

Waxwork - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dabi as a werewolf. Dabi as a vampire. Light vampire-related blood. Rough sex. Breeding. Oral sex. Heavily inspired by the 1988 horror film “Waxwork”.

This ended up a lot longer than I planned but I hope you like it, babe!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback is loved! Dividers by @benkeibear.

You’ve always loved wax museums, so when a new one opened up in town, you just had to visit on opening day. You walk through the doors, noting sadly that there isn’t a very big crowd. After looking through the “historical figures” and “celebrities” sections, you wander into the “fictional characters” area. 

There are highly detailed wax figures lovingly made to recreate various famous scenes from novels and movies. A large portion of them are horror, and so you feel a chill down your spine as you notice you’re the only visitor in this section. 

Some of the wax figures look so realistic, you find yourself staring at them to make sure they’re not moving. You walk around, looking at the displays, before stopping at one that fascinates you. 

The scene looks like the interior of a cabin in the woods. There are even fake trees outside the windows. The “room” is lit by a fireplace. Near the door, there’s a young man bent backwards in what appears to be agony, in the midst of a transformation. He has messy white hair, and half his body is covered in white fur, giving the illusion that the fur is spreading. His dark clothes are ripped, and he’s clutching his head with his hands, one of them tipped with razor sharp claws. His eyes, so bright blue that they seem to glow, are staring upwards. You imagine he’s staring at a full moon.

Also in the display is a young woman in a ragged dress, recoiling from him in horror. Strangely, she resembles you. Her build is the same as yours, as well as her hair. But with her face so twisted by fear, you can’t really tell if that resembles yours too. 

Your eyes keep being drawn back to the man, to the fine white fur that looks like crushed velvet. You want to touch it, to feel it beneath your fingertips. And his eyes… so beautiful. 

Wait… did his eyes just move? For a fraction of a second, you thought his eyes flicked down to your face. But surely you imagined it. You laugh nervously, deciding you’ve been looking at this display for too long. 

You move quickly to the next display, this one looking like the ornate dining room of a gothic castle. Sitting at the table in a beautiful Victorian style dress is a young woman who looks almost identical to the one from the previous display. Which means she looks just like you. Her hair is pinned up in an intricate style, and her dress is way too immodest to be historically accurate. It’s an off the shoulder design that is extremely low cut, exposing way more cleavage than was probably common in the Victorian era. 

The young woman is holding a steak knife in her hand, and has apparently cut her finger on it by accident, as a shiny drop of red “blood” is made to look as if it’s dripping down her hand. But the most interesting part of this display is the man standing behind her, like a predator. 

You draw in a sharp breath as you look at him, realizing with a tinge of alarm that he’s the same as the man from the werewolf display, with slight differences. This one has black hair, and is wearing a black Victorian suit with a cape. He also has scars covering the lower half of his face. But those eyes… those lovely blue eyes… they’re the same. There’s a look of hunger in them as he leans over the woman, staring at the drop of blood. You look at the blood too, trying to imagine why he finds it so compelling. 

Oh, he must be a vampire! You almost laugh at yourself for being so slow to realize it. You casually glance back up at his face, and your breath catches in your throat. 

He’s looking straight at you. Not at the drop of blood, but at you. 

Your heart pounds furiously as you stare at him, locked in his gaze. This time you’re certain. His eyes moved! You know for a fact he was looking at the woman’s hand before! So why is he looking into your eyes now? 

This must be some kind of trick or gimmick, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. Maybe the wax figure has some sort of mechanized feature that makes his eyes move, as a way to excite the visitors. Or, judging by how realistic he looks, maybe he’s an actor! The possibility makes you feel quite silly. 

You back away, suddenly eager to leave this section of the museum, but your back collides with something and your body bounces forward, causing you to stumble over the velvet rope cordoning off the display and fall directly into it. You close your eyes and brace for the impact of the floor, but instead you black out. 

When your eyes snap open, you’re sitting at the fancy table in the dining room. There’s a plate of delicious looking food in front of you and a steak knife in your hand. A single drop of blood is sliding down your index finger. You look in front of you, where the rope should be, but it’s not there. In fact, the rest of the museum is gone! You really are in a complete dining room! 

All at once you remember the other occupant of the room, and you slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder. Leaning over you is the very beautiful, very alive, vampire with the black hair and the scars. 

“Did you cut yourself? Are you okay?” he asks. You expected his voice to be more smooth and formal, given his attire, but he sounds like any random guy you go to college with. 

You’re not sure what to say, wondering if this is a dream or not. Did you hit your head when you fell? 

The man grabs your hand, firmly but not harshly, and pulls it up to his face to examine it. “Looks like a small cut,” he says, then wraps his scarred lips around your finger, his tongue lapping gently at the blood. 

You’re so transfixed that you don’t think to pull your hand away until he’s finished. His eyes move over you, and you’re suddenly very aware of how obscenely low cut your dress is. You stand up from the table and look around, still hoping to see the rest of the museum somewhere. But it’s just not there. 

“Not running off, are you?” the man asks, a hint of a grin on his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone for dinner.” His tongue runs over his lips as he says it, making your face flush with heat. 

“Um, I’m not really sure where I am,” you say, your back against the edge of the table. 

He steps closer to you. “You’re in my home, doll, and we’re about to have dessert.”

You feel paralyzed as he gets closer and closer, until his body is pressed against yours. He’s taller than you, probably a little older, but he’s fucking gorgeous. 

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe it’s a concussion-induced hallucination. But whatever it is, you might as well enjoy it. 

You reach up and wrap your arms around him as he lifts you up and sits you on the table, the plates and silverware magically gone. His mouth is on your neck, licking along a vein before you feel a sharp pain. He’s biting you! The pain is intense for a few moments, and then disappears, replaced by a feeling of euphoria. You can feel his teeth tearing at your delicate skin, can feel his tongue gliding along the wound, but it doesn’t hurt at all now. You only feel warm and aroused, listening to the sensual sucking sounds as he devours your blood. 

He lies you back on the table and pulls away from your neck. His mouth is sticky and red. He pulls the top of your dress down, freeing your breasts, and then his hands and mouth are upon them, squeezing and licking. 

You moan, clutching his shoulders, opening your legs ever wider as his body presses to you. Eventually he reaches down and rips the skirt of your dress right up the middle, clearing himself a path to your panties and exposing your white garter belt and stockings. He tears the panties away and bends down, running his tongue along your heated, damp flesh. You arch your back, ridiculously turned on by the idea of a vampire eating you out. His tongue, still wet with your blood, circles your clit, driving you to madness. 

When you’re right on the edge of climax, he stops and pulls away, opening his pants to the sounds of your panting. “Gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks, sliding his hand up and down his hard, pleasingly large shaft. 

“Yes! I’ll be so good!” you breathe out, locking your legs around his body, pulling him closer. 

He grins as he shoves himself into you, licking your blood from his lips. His thrusts are deep, intimate, and hit your sweet spot just perfectly. “Ahh… feels so good…” you cry. 

You want to moan his name, but you have no idea what it is. 

“That’s it,” he says with a grunt, thrusting deeper, “taking me so well!”

Fuck it. Just go with the vibes. 

“Harder, Daddy!”

He looks down at you, momentarily surprised, but then he laughs and fucks you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before. 

You were already on the edge of cumming, and now you’re pushed over the edge by the way his tip hits your cervix, making you bounce off the table. You cum while clenching his cock. 

Just before he releases his seed inside you, painting your womb in his color, he leans forward and bites your neck again. There’s that brief searing pain again, contrasting so deliciously with the pleasure rippling through you as his cock pulses in your body. 

He pulls away, licking his lips again and pulling you up to your feet by your hand, like a gentleman. You’re in a daze as he leads you to the door of the room. “Thanks, doll. I haven’t had any visitors in a long time. Hopefully I’ll see you in the next one.”

“Next one?” you ask, confused as you walk through the door. 

You find yourself back in the museum, standing in front of the vampire display. But it looks different now. The woman sitting at the table doesn’t look like you anymore, instead having plain, almost blank features. And the man, the vampire, is standing up straight, looking right at you, a subtle grin on his bloody lips. 

Startled, you step back and touch your hand to your neck. You can feel the puncture wounds, the slick blood trickling out. 

Was… was that real?  

Somewhat delirious, you stagger away, and end up stumbling right into another display. This time you blink and you’re in the cabin in the woods. You’re the girl in the torn dress, cowering in fear of the white haired man who is turning into a werewolf before your very eyes. 

He looks at you through his agony as his body transforms, and you can see the recognition in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck, not this one!” he says, trying to move away from you. “Run! Get… to the edge… of the forest! Hurry!”

“What’s happening!?” you scream. “How did I even get here?”

“It’s the museum!” he shouts, clutching his head in pain. “Listen, you have to run! I can’t… control this form! I go fucking feral!”

You stand there, frozen, watching the soft white fur spread across his lean body, the claws on his hands get longer, the teeth in his much wider mouth become large and sharp. Two white furry ears even grow out of the top of his head. 

“Feral, you say?” The question rolls off your tongue. Watching him writhe in pain as his body changes is… actually kind of hot. 

He looks at you, blue eyes wild, and he seems to understand what you want. The transformation is complete. He stands before you much taller than before, covered head to toe in that lovely white fur. There’s a primal feel to the way he looks at you. Animalistic. Predatory.

Either he’s going to rip you apart or fuck your brains out. You really really hope it’s the latter. 

He lunges forward and tackles you to the floor, pushing you face down onto the rug in front of the fireplace. His movements are fast and aggressive, but not too rough. He easily could have killed you already. 

With one swipe of his powerful claws, your dress is in tatters, barely clinging to your body in tiny strips that cover nothing. Behind you, he lifts your hips and spreads your thighs, and almost immediately plunges into your slick pussy. 

You cry out, gripping the rug in your hands as he begins fucking into you, your bare chest and stomach rubbing against the rug with each thrust. Ah, his cock feels incredible! It’s long and hard, covered in a thin layer of soft velvety fur. As he takes you from behind, he uses one hand to lightly scrape his claws down your back. 

“Oh god!” you scream out when one clawed hand reaches around and finds your clit, rubbing and pinching it, making your body tremble. You don’t have to tell him to fuck you harder. You don’t think he possibly could. Your knees are wobbling, barely supporting you, your face is pressed into the rug, your tears seeping into it. You’ve never felt this good in your entire life. 

You feel him twitching inside you, and just as you feel his scalding hot cum shoot directly into your womb, you feel your own orgasm wash over you. Moaning and panting, you stay there on the rug, your face buried in it, until he eventually pulls out. By the time you have the energy to roll over and look at him, he’s reverted back to human form. 

He’s standing there naked, his white hair damp and hanging in his eyes. He drops down onto the rug beside you, and you scoot closer to him, pulling your knees up to your chest. 

“What is this place?” you ask him. “Is this really still the museum?”

The fireplace is roaring behind you, and you can hear the wind blowing through the trees outside the cabin. 

“I think every display is its own pocket dimension,” he says. “But fuck if I know how it all works.”

You look at him intently. “Who are you?”

He shrugs. “Just a guy who got stuck here. I came to the museum with some friends a few years ago, stumbled into one of the displays, and got stuck. I stayed inside too long, so now I can’t leave.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“When I finally found the border, the way back to the museum, I stuck one arm out and it instantly turned to wax. As long as I stay in the displays, I’m flesh and blood. But I can move my consciousness around the different dimensions.”

You suddenly feel panicked. “What about me?”

He grins. “You’ll be fine. You haven’t been here nearly long enough. Certain rare people get pulled in, and I always lead them out.”

You meet his gaze for a few moments, then say, “I’ll come back! I’ll visit you as often as I can!”

He gives you a somewhat sad smile. “The museum moves around to different towns. We probably won’t be here for longer than a year.”

“Then I’ll track it down!” you say forcefully, causing him to blink in surprise. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you!”

“I hope so,” he says, then he stands up and heads for the door, opening it. He tosses a blanket to you to cover yourself with and says, “You better get going. Head to the edge of the forest and you’ll be back in the museum.”

You wrap the blanket around yourself as you walk through the door. You stop and look back at him. “What’s your name?”

He smiles. “Touya.”

Minutes later, you’re back in the museum, standing in front of the werewolf display. The man who was once bent back in pain is standing calmly in the cabin now, looking at you without moving. You wave to him before turning to leave. “See you later, Touya!”

[mychlapci]

Best girl Sentinel Prime’s coworkers are happy to surprise her by having her gender changed on the official paperwork without her even needing to ask. First Aid verified it so they could submit it, and now all of the records have been corrected to reflect that Sentinel is their good girl. Although she’s stopped taking her “heat suppressants,” her medic has prescribed her estrogen! They look the same to Sentinel, but First Aid assured her that many drugs do and it’s nothing to worry about. So she doesn’t. Her focus is on beating this heat so she can get back to work and stop having to wear her soft, pretty skirts and cute little bras… well, okay, maybe she’ll still wear them but Sentinel misses not feeling so emotional and needy!

Her coworkers are sent from Primus, she’s sure! They’re so understanding of her mood-swings, always eager to pet her plating and coo understandingly as they slip their spikes into her wet pussy. They always know what she needs! And they insist that she not wear plugs or close her panels; they need to be able to administer her treatment whenever the heat symptoms get too much to bear. I.e. anytime they think Sentinel is being too bitchy or demanding, they give her enough overloads to turn her into a giggly, clinging mess. Which means that lubricants and transfluid are often painting the inside of her thighs by the end of the day.

They all have different styles of fucking her, which Sentinel loves. Variety is the spice of life and all! Jazz likes her loud and begging, and is generous with overloads. He’s got lots of tricks for fragging a valve, and it absolutely shows when Sentinel is crying through yet another overload. First Aid makes her do all the work under the guise of “letting his patient take what she needs.” But mostly so he can watch her figure out how it feels best to ride his spike. Blurr frags fast and overloads quickly, but he makes up for it by overloading /a lot/. And the sheer speed and desperation of it do something for Sentinel, leaving her pliant and well fragged when he finally pulls out. Cliffjumper makes her warm his spike and totally ignores her. It’s almost unbearably hot, the way he pretends she’s not there even when he frags into her. Doing his datawork over Sentinel’s shoulder, occasionally hushing her when she whines. If she gets *too loud* he just tells her to do her own work on that lovely hypnopad and then continues lazily fucking an eager valve whenever the mood strikes. Some of them toy with her limp spikelet, some don’t. Some pinch, bite, or suck her nozzles, and some don’t. But they’re all happy to help their best girl with her needs. When Sentinel inevitably winds up pregnant they’ll have no idea whose it is other than hers. Maybe it’s all of theirs, the sheer volume of transfluid mixing in her forge.

When First Aid confirms that Sentinel is pregnant she feels relieved! Her protracted heat is finally over and she can stop fucking her coworkers like a slut. She’ll be able to get back to work with no distractions, now that her hormones age totally gonna level off! Except her men are quick to remind her that carriers need lots of transfluid to stay healthy, and they’re more than happy to contribute for their best girl’s sake. Transfluid with every meal! Taken orally and by valve, of course. And plenty of fragging to keep her topped up and relaxed. Stress is bad for the baby. They’ll spend the entire carriage helping Sentinel understand that getting her fucked at work is what’s best for all of them.

ouhhh they made such a good girl out of her… You know, now I can't help but wonder what Ultra Magnus thinks about this though aasdbshksk. Did he just watch on, silent, as the entire office conspired to turn Sentinel into a girl, and just let it happen? Was he completely ignorant until one day, Sentinel walked into his office, cute skirt swishing around her hips, the only thing more striking than her new hourglass figure being the little starting baby bump on her belly…? Either way, I think he should join in on the fun, introduce her to a whole new kind of stretch. Sentinel likes the variety in her lovers, after all.