#my pad isnt up far enough

[oars]

FUCKKKKKKK I HATE THIS PLACE

[mothandpidgeon]

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 2

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SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, jealousy, angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: Thank you to everyone that read part 1!! I'm so pleased that you're enjoying it so far! I really would've liked to let this part simmer a little longer but I'm holding myself to this publishing schedule. It's time to yeet this into the world. I'd love to know what you think. Your comments and reblogs give me so much joy!

Thank you @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thank you @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me bitch about this and supporting me always.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aunt Margot says. 

You’re putting the finishing touches on your make up in the Page’s office. Usually you’d go back upstairs but you don’t feel like hearing it from Ezra.  

“Thanks. I have a date,” you say, packing your mascara in your purse. 

“Oh,” she replies, not hiding her disappointment in the slightest. 

You hadn’t intended to see Connor again but when he texted you, you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. He invited you to his place to check out his vinyl collection which sounds like an insufferable version of Netflix and Chill but you have no plans to listen to a single record. You just want to fuck in his bed and avoid any drama with Ezra. 

“Well I hope you’ll put as much effort in for the equinox,” she says. She flips the sign in the door from open to closed then snaps her fingers to turn off the overhead lights. 

You and Margot host the coven for the equinox each year which already means extra preparations in addition to work at the bookshop. 

“Why would I do that?” you ask. You don’t wear make up for moon rituals, don’t wear much of anything at all. 

“Esme is bringing River,” she says with a casual shrug. 

“No” you groan. 

“He’s visiting from Ireland,” she tells you. 

The last time you saw Esme’s grandson you were both in high school. River was built like a string bean, his upper lip dusted with the saddest mustache— if you could even call it that. He reeked of some badly brewed potion that was supposed to attract lovers. You still gagged when you smelled licorice root. 

“Good for him,” you say. “Please do not set me up with River.”

“I’m not a matchmaker, dear. I’m just trying to expand your sexual horizons,” Margot replies. 

Suddenly, Connor’s vinyls don’t sound so bad after all. 

—

Ezra pads through crystals and altar bells. Everything’s been laid out on Aunt Margot’s paisley scarves— scrying bowls and athame blades and jars of rain water all waiting to be charged by the moon of the autumn equinox. 

It’s just after midnight and the witches of your coven are gathered in a small clearing far enough into the woods that stray mortals won’t stumble upon them. The air smells fresh and cold like mountain spring water. A bonfire crackles, layered with herbs and pine needles. 

The waning moon feels heavy and close like it might just fall out of the sky and nick Ezra’s ear. It makes him feel uneasy. Then again, it’s hard to enjoy these rituals when he can’t participate the way he once did. 

Ezra watches you offer mulled wine to Esme and River, steaming cups scented with cinnamon balanced on an antique silver tray. You look beautiful in your simple white dress. It glows in the moonlight and he can see your body silhouetted beneath the fabric of its long skirt by the fire. 

He’s never cared much for Esme but, then again, he doesn’t have many kind words for any of the Elders even if the ones that cursed him are long dead. Even if he deserved that curse. She wears her long hair coiled on top of her head, a jade hair pin perched in its nest the same way her familiar, a tired old owl, watches from the branch of one of the trees. 

Ezra’s attention isn’t with Esme tonight. He’s keeping a close eye on her grandson. 

“He totally sucks. Please don’t leave me alone with him,” you’d implored. 

Ezra would be wary of him whether or not you’d asked. River is nothing like how you’ve remembered him to Ezra. He must’ve done a lot of growing up since your last encounter. Tall and lean with thick waves of auburn hair. He’s the kind of witch that even Ezra would have taken to bed when he was human. 

He sees the way River looks at you, watches him turn the charm on as he smiles. River’s eyes travel down your body and Ezra knows exactly what he sees. Waves of hot jealousy consume Ezra from nose to tail. For a moment, he worries he’ll get another thousand years added on to his sentence. 

After some small talk, Esme wanders away and that's Ezra’s cue. He slinks up between you and River, rubbing up against your legs to let you know he’s ready to bail you out. 

River swallows his drink with a chuckle. 

“That tastes just how I remember it. Me and Moss used to sneak glasses of Ariadne’s mulled wine when we were thirteen,” he explains. 

“Me too. Although I’m pretty sure Margot knew,” you say with a laugh. 

“Little mage, you asked me to fetch you when the oils were ready,” Ezra says. 

“Oh,” you say, throwing a self conscious smile at River. “I’ll go in a minute, Ez.”

“Margot could use your assistance,” Ezra adds. 

“Why don’t you go help her and I’ll be there soon,” you suggest.

Ezra can’t help but glare up at River. 

“Would that I had opposable thumbs,” he responds. 

You laugh. River doesn’t. You crouch down and glide your hand down Ezra’s spine.

“It’s okay, Ez. I’m good,” you tell him and you wink at him.

His blood turns molten as you turn back to River and continue your conversation. He wants to hiss and claw at him, draw blood. It feels like you’re slipping through his fingers not that he ever held a claim. Not that he even has fingers anymore. He’s completely powerless, standing at your feet like the dumb animal he is.

Rather than watch you moony over River, Ezra turns away and slinks off to the edge of the gathering to sulk. The fire’s warmth doesn’t quite reach and he presses back his ears to stave off autumn’s chill. He can’t run off into the woods the way he’d like to, not without raising questions from the other witches, make you look like you can’t control your familiar.

He can’t stop his eyes from wandering back to you. Your head thrown back in laughter, your hand on River’s forearm. Each moment of your joy is like a knife in his heart.

Ezra’s eventually relegated to the circle where the familiars commiserate. River’s is a jet black bird named Rhea who turns her beak up at him. He’s not one of them, not really. He was human himself with a familiar of his own but that’s not the only reason why they scorn him. They all know that he’s the worst kind of witch. 

There are many reasons why a witch might be turned into a cat but there’s only one crime that was punished with 1000 years— murder. And not just any murder. Ezra desecrated the life of another witch and, no matter how loyally he serves you, he’ll always have that stain. 

The rituals are done, the chanting. The embers from the fire float up through the trees towards the fat moon. Then the dancing begins. It’s erratic and joyful, Ezra can remember the ecstasy of it in his bones. Esme lets down her white hair and one by one the witches disrobe. 

He hears your laughter as you spin, shoulders shrugging with the pulse of the magic that swirls around the bonfire. 

He knows he shouldn’t look at you like that. Not you. Not here. You’re not putting on a show, you’re doing your magic. But the way your body moves against the glow of the fire is its own enchantment. He could worship you like the moon. 

The spell is broken just as quickly. River’s right beside you, bare skin radiant, muscles rippling with his own rhythm. His fingers tangle with yours and Ezra feels acid in his throat. 

The whole night becomes an assault on his senses. The sound of chanting rises, the old words frantic and savage. Amber and patchouli mix with the woodsmoke to choke him. Grotesque shadows fall over the faces of the witches like a carnival of horrors. And then there’s you— incandescent and naked and whispering something in River’s ear that has him grinning. Ezra’s hair stands on end.

“Come dance with me!” you giggle as you leave the circle of merriment. Your teeth are stained purple, drunk on wine and magic. 

“I’m quite content here,” Ezra lies. 

“Are you having fun?” You ask but you don’t wait for his answer. “River is…wow. He did not look like that when we were kids.”

You pick Ezra up and whirl around in a circle. He smells the incense of your skin, the alcohol on your breath. 

“You’re going to get your wish. I’m finally going to fuck a proper witch!” you say. 

You toss Ezra in the air and catch him. The bile has come so far up his throat it’s an absolutely nauseating sensation. 

“Enough!” Ezra hisses. He swats at you with his claws bared. 

You yelp and drop him. Before he even hits the ground, he feels it— a searing hot pain that makes his back arch. You’re defending yourself with your powers like a reflex. He lets out a yowl and just as quickly it passes.

Ezra staggers and looks up to find you with tears in your eyes. He’s never seen you looking so hurt, betrayed. Your jaw quivers. Ezra landed on his feet but he feels upside down. He’s realizing what he’s just done, that he tried to hurt you because he’s pathetic. Jealous. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice strangled. 

Like a coward, he takes off, ignoring you as you call after him. 

—

It’s the sound of the cat flap that wakes you sometime after sunrise. You’re sprawled out on your bed, head aching, eyes swollen. You’re still wearing your white dress, you threw it on before going after Ezra but it was no use. He was as black as the shadows in the forest and had slipped away under some bushes.

You abandoned the equinox celebration and went home in hopes he’d be there. You waited. Alone with your guilt and anxiety. 

I’m sorry. Please come home. You were never very good at telepathy but you tried to reach out to him with your thoughts. 

The sound that he made echoed through your mind as you paced the floor. Strangled, terrified. You tried to stop yourself from picturing him out there in the dark shaking with pain. 

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was involuntary. As soon as his claw grazed your skin, your powers flared. Maybe if you hadn’t been drunk you could’ve controlled it. It happened so quickly you still can’t be sure of how strong it hit him. 

Even if it was just a momentary shock, you saw just how much damage that moment did. His hair standing on end, his tail rod straight. But what really crushed you was the look in his eye. 

Suddenly you were just as horrible as every other witch that he’d served. You’d used your powers to punish him, to harm him. Every promise you’d ever made to him had broken in that instant. 

You see Ezra’s slim form dart to your doorway. In a flash, he slips under the bed and your heart sinks into your ankles. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice ragged from the night’s festivities. 

He doesn’t answer. You press your eyes shut and swallow hard then crawl to the edge of your mattress. Your stomach lurches as you look over the edge. On top of everything else there’s a hangover churning in your gut. You guess you deserve that, too. 

“Ezra, are you ok?” you ask. Whatever words of atonement you pieced together before you cried yourself to sleep have dissolved. 

He’s in the furthest corner beneath the bed, tucked against the wall with his tail wrapped tight around his body. You think you might burst into tears again seeing him cowering away from you. 

“I hope I didn’t make you fret,” he says. 

You want to scoop him into your arms and hold him as tight as you can but it feels like you’ve lost that privilege. 

“I’m so sorry, Ez,” you say, climbing down to the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that. I'm sick over it.”

“You were well within your rights. You’re my master and I struck you,” he says. “I’m the one that should beg forgiveness.”

To hear him call you his master makes you feel even worse than before. There’s no amount of tuna belly that will make this right.

“No. It was my fault. And I promise I’ll never use my powers on you again. Ever,” you say. 

His gold eyes shift away. 

“Keep your apologies,” he says. “And I see I’ve kept you from your new paramour. Another act to add to my contrition.” 

“I don’t care about that.” If you hadn’t been so caught up in the prospect of taking River to bed, none of this would’ve happened. 

“Nonsense, little mage. You’re a witch. Be with other witches,” Ezra says.  

–

River’s in the bookshop when you arrive, standing opposite Aunt Margot. When you couldn’t convince Ezra to come out from under the bed, you decided to give him space. Maybe you could distract yourself re-alphabetizing the cookbooks. You were hoping for some quiet but you’re confronted by the very attractive witch you’d been flirting shamelessly with the night before.

You know you look a mess, your face still feels puffy. River, on the other hand, looks like the definition of a sight for sore eyes. Freshly showered and dressed in a well pressed shirt that’s rolled up to the elbows, the sun is streaming in the front window outlining his still-damp hair like he’s Prince Charming himself.

“There you are!” Margot calls. 

You smooth your hand across your top nervously as she appraises you. You threw on a more than slightly wrinkled shirt that was languishing on the floor of your bedroom, too preoccupied to put together a real outfit.

“Looks like we had too much of Ariadne’s little potion,” she says. 

“I have a tonic that’s great for that,” River says with a smile. “But coffee’s faster.” 

He hands you a steaming paper cup from the cafe down the street. He and Margot have their own perched on the counter. You take a sip and are surprised to find that it’s your regular order.

”Are you clairvoyant, too?” You ask.

River blushes. “Nah. Margot told me how you take your coffee,” he chuckles.

It's so thoughtful and you’re not feeling very deserving. You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“I wanted to go foraging around here but I really need a local,” he says. 

“That sounds fun,” you say half heartedly in an attempt to demure. You’re not really up for a good time but it feels like a real asshole move to turn River down considering he brought you coffee after you ditched him at the bonfire. Margot is beaming at the register.

“Doesn’t it?” she asks. “Why don’t I get you a basket?”

—

River carries the basket now overflowing with mushrooms and wild herbs. You’re deep in the woods, branches crunching beneath your shoes. Nature’s sounds echo around you, starlings and chipmunks, the constant whoosh of the breeze through the turning leaves. 

This path is overgrown but you know it well. You spent your childhood getting lost in these woods. They have their own magic. 

Your guilt overshadows the date. If it is a date. River seems to think it is if the way the back of his hand keeps brushing against yours is any sign. It’s hard to enjoy it especially when your mind keeps drifting off. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re only half-listening as he tells you just how mystical the vibes are at Stonehenge. 

You stop at a stream, sitting on a fallen tree that’s overgrown with moss. It’s one of your favorite spots. The water sparkles where the sunlight spills though the branches, peacefully trickling over rocks. You pick up one of the smooth stones and trace its wet surface with your thumb. 

You’ve sat in this very spot before feeling just as shitty. Heartbroken then, too, trying to figure out if you could call it a break up when you hadn’t actually been anything official. She hadn’t wanted anything complicated and you swore your feelings wouldn’t get involved. Unfortunately they had their own plans.

Ezra found you there, sulking by the stream, wondering if anyone would think you were worth breaking their own rules for. 

It struck you how quiet he was. There were no anecdotes about what the witch scene was like in 1924 or tips for mouse hunting, indoor versus outdoor. He just padded into the water and nudged a little stone towards your feet. It was just big enough to fit in your palm and it was cool against your skin as you held it there. 

“A thing of beauty,” he said and he head butted your shins affectionately. 

It was. Round from years, maybe decades under the water’s friction. A dull gray cut through the middle by a wedge of some crystalline mineral like shards of broken glass. You recall exactly what it looks like because it still sits on your night stand. Each time you see it you’re reminded of how Ezra slumped down beside you, his warm body weight like a cozy blanket, a faint purr reverberating through him. 

“You’ve got a big heart, little mage,” he said. 

You choke up at the memory, unsure if Ezra would ever think that again. You certainly wouldn’t say it about yourself today. 

“Either you’re really hungover or something’s bothering you,” River says gently. 

You laugh tearfully and he rubs a circle on your back. You try to shake your head but River doesn’t give it up, looking at you with a soft concern.

“I really fucked things up with Ezra last night,” you admit. Telling him what a cruel witch you are might be a huge turn off but the feeling of his palm through your shirt makes you feel at ease.

“Ezra?” he asks.

“My familiar,” you remind him.

“Oh.”

“He scratched me and —”

“He hurt you?” he asks, face painted with righteous indignation. 

“No. He barely got me. I totally overreacted,” you say. “I used my powers on him. It was just a reflex, you know? But…I just feel awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he tells you with a relieved chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

If that’s true then why do you hate yourself?

“If Rhea was out of line I’d do the same,” he goes on.

You wince at the thought.

“You’d hurt her?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I’ve never had to. She knows who’s boss.”

You’ve always considered Ezra a partner. Of course, there are plenty of witches that think of their familiars as nothing more than servants. It’s an old school way of seeing it. You hadn’t expected River to use words that remind you of the way your grandmother used to talk.

“Maybe it’s different,” you say, trying to give him the opportunity to walk it back. Ezra’s not like Rhea. Maybe you’d feel the same way River does if your familiar hadn’t once been as human as you are. Still, it doesn’t feel right.

“You’re a funny little witch,” he says with a grin.

“What does that mean?” you ask. 

“Crying over your familiar. It’s sweet.” He says it as if it’s a compliment but the condescension makes you frown in disgust.

“If you want to make it up to him, why don’t you find him a lady cat that can make him feel good,” he adds with a laugh.

“Is that what you’re into?” you ask with venom.

“What? That was a joke,” River says.

“I don’t think it’s funny. You know, just because Ezra’s a familiar, it doesn’t mean he should be treated like shit. And he’s not a cat. He’s a human,” you tell him.

“He’s a witch killer,” River spits back. “So I’m sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him.”

Your stomach turns. It’s the truth. Ezra’s served as a familiar in your family for centuries, his history has never been hidden from you and he’s never shied away from it.

But his punishment has never made sense to you. A thousand years, so many lifetimes, watching his friends and family die as he toiled in servitude for witches as backwards as River. It’s cruel, that’s why the Elders changed the laws years ago. And yet Ezra’s remained a cat, a familiar, disdained. 

Suddenly, the anger you’ve been tormenting yourself with turns outwards and you think your powers could set fire to the dry leaves at your feet. It’s all so unfair. The Elders turned him and witches like River scorn him and none of them feel a lick of shame. The back of your neck heats with a protective rage.

“He’s my friend,” you choke. “And you’re a fucking asshole.”

And you leave River speechless in the middle of the woods.  

🐈‍⬛

Part 3

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs appreciated! My inbox is always open.

[puhpandas]

heres something interesting i noticed about the ruined designs! each ruined animatronic designs of the original evil 3 of SB all have parts of their design that kinda recreate something recognizeable from their original looks.

chica has a trash bag in her middle to make up for the broken space so it appears she still has her light pink dark pink leotard look. she also has orange/yellow melted cheese on her mouth to represent her beak. the cheese also fills in the gaps with chicas torso to help aid the complete leotard look i mentioned earlier

roxy has a lot of attention brought to her green strand because it stands out and is recognizeable as roxy. she also has red wiring on her arm to make up for her lack of shoulder pad, and red wiring on the left side of her torso to create the illusion of her shirt, and on top of that the broken plastic on her torso piece resembles the star pattern on her shirt. her pelvis is also singed from the fire in SB and is red to resemble her clothes

monty is the most far gone from his original personality in his design. the fact that hes only half of an animatronic is enough but also they brought attenton to his mowhawk because its blaringly monty. they also made some parts of hid endoskeleton a lighter rusty color to resemble his underbelly color

my point after all of this is comparing all of these design decisions to ruined Freddy

with this design, they removed the two most recognizeable things about freddy: his lightning bolt and his face. his head is completely gone, which is a big deal, and the blue lightling bolt is almost completely ripped off.

they chose to stick with fun FNAF 4 refs with ruined freddy with the lack of a head and stomach mouth, and i think that its genius. the callbacks are cool and all, but i think the fact that they removed what makes Freddy look like himself from this design really hammers in how its NOT freddy. our freddy is canonically somewhere else outside with Gregory and Vanessa. this Freddy is only a shell of ours and it shows with how unrecognizeable it is.

with the others, they designed them so you can still see that even after all this damage theyre STILL themselves. but sith Freddy, they remove everything recognizeable he had before, because it ISNT him.

youre not supposed to see him as same old freddy and they removed what makes him himself from this design and on top of that, they gave us cool early fnaf references and also made the one safe place for Gregory in SB super dangerous looking. i just think SW are geniuses thats all

[moonrkgk]

♡moving fundraiser!♡

HI HI it's me, moon!!

I'm moving!! (very far, much travel) and im starting a little fundraiser for it!

I'll be streaming more frequently the coming weeks to prepare, so consider coming and giving moral support! Or maybe picking up a commission. I want to ensure that i can still finish my work while also having ENOUGH work to meet my goals!

Goal A is just having enough to support myself while im there. I plan on renting a room (hey if youre a furry that doesnt mind a super quiet roommate with no pets/kids/spouse let me know! Lol). This loosely translates to i want at least 2 months of the average rent ive found for myself under this condition (since i will still be able to work and i will start looking for a job immediately.)

Goal B is ensuring i have funds for a moving truck or car rental. I don't own much, so i can keep travel light! Unfortunately not light enough to take a flight, but enough that i wont have to rent a box truck which cuts down on costs! Goal C is making sure i can afford at least one overnight stay along the way. Since i will be making the trip alone, i will likely need to stop to sleep at least once. Ive driven quite a ways before, but never a full 20 hours.

My total goal is $2,000. This should cover all my costs and needs as well as a little padding in case of emergency.

If you'd like to send me a tip to help out, you can throw some into my buymeacoffee!

If youd like to commission me instead and get some sweeet art in return, keep an eye on my twitter! (Most of my art is NSFW so thats the only place i can safely and reliably post it! Sorry about that.)

You can message me on discord for any inquiries! @ MOONRKGK

Hopefully everything can fall into place smoothly and there isnt anything im not forseeing. Moving means work, walkability, and general stability that i cant find here. I havent been able to find work in several years, the minimum wage is low, and its a multiple hours walk to the nearest store. ( Brutal when its 110 outside or below freezing like it often is here! ) I have to make change happen in my life if i expect anything to get better, so im putting my all into this one!

Thank you for reading, and thank you for any support tossed my way.

[musicoftheheart]

oh my gosh okay so I wanna ask about all ur wips honestly but that kind of defeats the purpose soooooooo

4,7,8,14

4 because it sounds really ominous, 7 because the title makes me think someone (probably james) freaks out every time someone else (probably regulus) speaks french and a third person (probably sirius) thinks hes having an allergic reaction, 8 because this sounds like a sequel to hold me tight (and never let me go)??? and I have been loving that fic so far and cant wait for you to finish it (but no pressure, take ur time of course), and 14 because thats funny as shit

also, I remember you saying a while ago you might write a snooker au? is that happening? (again no pressure, I just wondered if u forgot to list it since you mentioned having brain fog recently (which is a cool name for it btw and I will be using it in future))

hi!! thanks for asking! <33

so ive covered a couple of these in another ask, so ill only sum them up here (you still get rambled at though dw <3)

4. dont walk too close

so! as i said in another ask, this is a fic following sirius (and regulus, later) starting hogwarts as walburga’s obedient heir, only to end up in gryffindor and learning that life isnt quite the way he’d been taught. his revelations and his sorting end up causing tension at home in the yule holidays, and a series of events end up with regulus in gryffindor too. im sure we can all imagine how that one goes. i posted a snippet in the other ask here

7. french epi fic

HA okay i love your guess, but— well, actually, youre closer to the truth than you might’ve thought. sort of.

regulus has just escaped his parents’ clutches and moves across from france to the one place he hoped he might be welcome: sirius’ home in england. its set in yorkshire, because thats where i grew up before i had to move away, and i miss it :( regulus’ english is poor as it is, but meeting sirius’ ridiculously attractive housemate, james potter, muddles his brain enough where the few basic greetings he knew were gone

james has epilepsy (thats where the ‘epi’ in the title comes from), remus gets them all free donuts, and sirius refuses to flirt on behalf of either james or regulus with the other. its chaos, its fun, and im enjoying it so far despite only being a few thousand words in. here’s a snippet:

Regulus slowly set his eyes back on the house. “It’s so big.”

Seeming to finally catch up on Regulus’ surprise, Sirius explained, “Effie and Monty helped us get on our feet, but with what Alphard left…”

”Mon dieu,” he breathed. But this time, it wasn’t at the house. It was at the man stepping out of it.

Stood at the front door, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun that had emerged from behind the rain clouds, was the most beautiful man Regulus had ever laid his gaze upon. His dark brown hair was tussled in a mess of curls on his head, but almost like it was purposefully messy rather than just uncontrollable. Round golden glasses sat upon his bronze skin, framing his chocolatey eyes perfectly, and a wide grin pulled at his mouth and revealed a little dimple on his left cheek.

When Regulus was eventually able to tear his eyes from the man’s face, his breath caught again at the sight of the rest of him. He clearly worked out, if the muscles making his t-shit stretch were anything to go by, but he wasn’t tall — perhaps only a couple of inches larger than Regulus himself, and he reached only a measly 5’7. Something shining in the sun caught Regulus’ eye, and he saw a thin metal bracelet on one of the man’s wrists.

”Hey, James!” Sirius called, climbing out of the car and snapping Regulus out of his trance. He’d made it to the boot to pull Regulus’ suitcase out before Regulus had even managed to open the passenger door.

”Padfoot!” James called with just as much enthusiasm — that was, far too much considering they lived together and had presumably seen each other just a few hours ago before Sirius had left to pick Regulus up. “And mini Pads!” he added, spotting Regulus finally getting out of the car.

Regulus shot him a swift glare for that nickname. He may be cute, but looks could only get him so far.

8. the warmth of your arms rivals the sun (its burning out)

this is another ive covered in another ask but i love it so im still gonna talk about it. youre exactly right, by the way — it is a hmt sequel! i guess the naming conventions were similar enough ahaha. its very james-centric with background storylines, and focuses on much heavier themes than those in hmt. i wont go into what they are, but anyone who was around during chapter… four? five? i dont remember, but it was early on. i added some tags, then took them away once i decided id split it into two parts. if anyone remembers those tags, that’s what twoya will cover :))

14. sirius is actually helpful for once wtf

this is planned to be a shorter fic, but still multi chapter. its pretty much just sirius shipping jegulus and doing everything he can to get his two favourite people together :) not written yet, but ive got a fair bit planned so far

bonus: snooker au

okay so, i would love to say i’ve worked on this some more since then but… i haven’t :( i really want to, but i want to do it well, which i know will take a lot of time. but, the details i have so far:

its the snooker world championships. regulus black’s first, but james potter’s third. sirius black — former world champion — is the estranged brother of the newbie regulus black, and the mentor and best friend of james potter, who was second place two years ago, but couldnt compete last year due to an unrelated injury, though healed up now. james, of course, is head over heels for regulus. regulus, of course, pretends hes not pining madly for the boy who stole his brother. sirius, of course, pretends hes not offended or hurt that regulus wont even try to fix their relationship. he also just happens to be stealing glances at remus lupin, who came fourth last year and seemed rather close to regulus. theyre all hopeless, and determined to win.

thanks for your ask! <33

[ccasey0]

Here is my bunny oc

if you wanna give me some tips :3

ooo okay so there are a lot of ways to make an anthro rabbit look more Rabbit-Like.

starting with the feet! first of all, rabbits hve claws that arent retractable, so include those :) next, see the way you have made your feet they are flat on the soles and really short and simple:

however, rabbit feet are much longer for more propulsion when leaping. there are two way to show this: stanign on the toes or standing on the soles. typically, rabbits will be on their toes when they are walking, standing, running, ect. but when they are resting/sitting they will be on their soles. as shown here:

see how the feet positions change depending on what the rabbit is doing? try to show this when you are drawing the character, kinda like this:

Hands! i got nothing to say except for add pads on the palms and beans on the fingers. also claws. example here:

Now, ears!! the way you drew the ears they kinda looked like they were in a ponytail maybe? as if they were a substitute for hair. shown here:

There are plenty of other ways to show the ears that will translate as more like Rabbit ears rather than just like hair. examples shown here:

Tail! you didnt show the tail in your drawing since it was a front-on image, so imma just show different kinds of tails you can give her. first: realistic. a little scruffier and pointed upwards, like an actual rabbit's tail. fur will be the same color as the rest of the fur on the body on top and white on the bottom. example here:

next: round/cartoon. totally white, fluffy little cottonball on the butt. the way pretty much every cartoon depicts it. this isnt realistic but a cute design attribute nonetheless. example here:

last: hare. hares have slightly longer tails than rabbits. this isnt quite realistic most of the time when depicted in art, but it looks interesting enough. fur would be the same color as the rest of the body all over the tail, no white underside. example here:

Eyes! Rabbits are prey, so they have to be able to watch out for predators on all sides. that's why they have eyes on either side of their head. try making the eyes on your character more wide set(kinda like those from asian have). y'know how people are always criticizing Usagi for having eyes too far apart. yeah, there's a reason for that design choice lol. anyways example here:

Nose! just a little button nose. tiny upside down triangle on the face. simple as that :D example shown in the previous image

Body shape! yeah, i really dont have much advice for this one. if you want it to be realistic have thinner, bonier arms and legs with the same body shape you already have for her. here is your Og with the advice next to it:

hair! yeah, this one is really just ideas. i sa you added fluff to the top of your character's head, but it look really choppy and more like a weird hat tbh(not trying to hate just stating my observations). try making more fluid and going on one general direction rather than all different directions. want some different options i thought up? first, fluffy: more rounded and floofy looking. i dunno how to explain it so example here lol:

Next, scruffy: uhhh....i dunno how to explain this one very well either. curved points that go in mostly the same direction with a few outliers. example here:

last, Human-like: this one is kinda self explanatory. give her human hair lol.

Clothes! okay, this is that last tip i promise. listen, i love the skirt. it's cute, it's personalized, its stylish......But give her shorts or pants. she is a rabbit, which means she will be super athletic and will definitely be jumping/leaping and all-in-all moving around a lot. so yeah, unless you want people looking up her skirt all the time you might wanna give her different bottom apparel. of course, feel free to give her a skirt or dress if you wanna! now, for a top i really like the one you already gave her. it's sleek and looks cool! however, might i suggest a slightly baggier shirt? simply because tight tops like that would be restricting for movement and definitely uncomfortable since she has fur. a baggy shirt would allow for looser movements and wouldnt compact her fur and make it uncomfortable. belt could go either way. keep it or dont, its your choice. it might hurt a bit when she wants to bend over or something(i know from experience lol) but it also wouldnt hinder her like, at all. good for carrying pouches and stuff, holding weapons in shethes, ect. i personally think it looks great. i have a few outfit suggestions that you might like, feel free to use/mix and match any of them. they are yours now :DD

well, that's about all ive got for you. you dont have to use any of this if you dont want to. these are all just suggestions! anyways, have a good day! imma go hide in my cave now :)

[avintagekiss24]

SIGN ON THE LINE || STEVE ROGERS

PRETTY WOMAN AU

pairing: Escort!Steve Rogers x bisexual!black!reader ; minor pairing: escort! steve rogers x bisexual!black!reader x bisexual!natasha romanov || word count: 14,446 || warnings: smut, sex, rough sex, ass eating, butt stuff, oral sex (male & female receiving), rough oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, face sitting/riding, 69, cockwarming, nipple play, consensual voyeurism, prostitution, daddy kink

authors note: right under the buzzer! this is for @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ marvel diversity challenge! my prompt was Pretty Woman AU. this is a pretty loose interpretation of the movie, but there are some similarities threaded throughout if you’re familiar with it. once again, a lot was inspired by @honeychicanawrites​ headcanons here, here, and here. there was also a black and white gif floating around of an animated woman, rubbing, sucking, and fucking her dude, but i lost the link! (i was gonna embed it, but i don’t want my post flagged). also, daily convos with @tropicalcap​ led to some of the filth. enjoy!

line divider by @firefly-graphics​

The wine glass clinks against the porcelain of the bathroom counter as you set it down gently, backing up to eye yourself in the mirror. You push your box braids off your shoulders and twist your body, smoothing your manicured hands down your hips as you primp. Sliding your fingers underneath the thin band of your thong, you adjust it slightly, pulling them up on your hips before letting the material snap back to your body, cutting into your flesh. The Zodiac tights come next, wiggling your hips to pull the crystal embedded fishnets up your smooth legs and up over your behind.

You dig your hands into your bra, pushing your tits up so they sit a little higher in it and pucker your lips, adding a little more gloss. A deep buzz sounds throughout the bathroom, your phone illuminating as a text slides through.

In the lobby

A smile spreads across your face. You grab the fluffy, white hotel robe and shrug into it, tying a tight bow at your waist before arranging your hair again and bringing the glass of white wine to your lips to finish it off. The small bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 is the last accessory you reach for— spritzing your neck and wrist, rubbing them together slowly to spread the sweet, floral aroma. Grabbing your phone, and the now empty wine glass, you move out of the bathroom and hit the light switch to cover the lavish room in darkness.

You’re wet already— tight muscles clamping around nothing as you pad back into your Presidential suite. Blood starts to race, skin heats up as your heart beat grows harder. You’re so fucking horny it hurts. Stomach is tight and knotted, your clit achy and sore— fingers not enough to quell the need. So you went out one night, found a sex shop, which isnt hard in the heart of L.A.; bought a pretty glass dildo and a diamond studed butt plug— even a pocket vibrator, but it wasn’t enough. You need the real thing, a big, hard, dripping, warm cock to put you out of your misery so you can focus on the reason you’re in L.A. in the first place.

“Oh girl,” Natasha winked, handing over an off white business card, “Having dick on retainer is a must.”

You flipped it over in your hand, your dark eyes skimming over the telephone number printed in the middle of the card, the initials S.G.R. scrawled out just underneath it, “Give him a call,” she winked, “He’ll keep you plenty occupied while you’re here.”

That was two days ago— over a business lunch when the VP of Operations and CEO of the company you’re trying to acquire stepped away from the table. You’d known Natasha Romanov for exactly one week at that point, but she knew the desperation of a woman going without— you're convinced she smelled it on you as soon as you walked into her office. It took her a few days to pry it out of you, but once she caught you discreetly making eyes at the waiter, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you in close.

You’re a woman of the world, you both realize and understand sex work is a valuable commodity, and champion it, for men and women alike. But you never honestly had to give it a second thought, you’ve always had options. A cute little black book that sits just inside of your nightstand, full of names that can satisfy your every mood.

Tony for a quickie when you’re buzzed and on the way to an event, Sam for a back breaking, fingers in your mouth, ‘call me daddy’ romp, sweet Bruce when you want it real nice and slow— somebody to love you just for the night. That little black book doesn’t help you in L.A., and you aren’t about to fly somebody out for a four hour layover.

There’s a rap at the door, three quick knocks, “Just one second.” you call sweetly, slipping into a pair of Giuseppe heels— your favorite Giuseppe heels.

You untie the belt around your waist and throw the robe over the back of the couch as you click towards the door, leaving you in your black, strapless bra, thin thong, and waist high tights. There’s really no need to be modest— you’re both adults. Turning the square, stainless steel door handle, you pull gently, throwing it open for the tall, blonde man leaning against the far wall. He stands up straight, blue eyes going wide as they drop down your body, pink lips quirking into a lopsided grin.

You spin on your heels and retreat back into the room slowly, hearing the door as it hitches when he catches it with his palm. Eyes are on your body as you switch your hips seductively, moving towards the minibar. You can’t help the smile that curls onto your lips.

“Would you like a drink, Mr. Rogers?” You purr, voice low and smooth.

“Steve’s fine,” his voice equally low, equally smooth, “What do you have?”

You hum, opening the small fridge and bending just slightly, poking out your ass, “Looks like Modelo, Vodka, Rum,” you point towards the ice bucket, a bottle of Dom Perignon resting in the chips, “Champagne. I also have some white wine.”

You glance back at him, your braids dangling over your shoulder, swinging gently with each little movement you make. Steven Grant Rogers is a sight for sore eyes— and a sore pussy. He’s tall and lean, chest and shoulders wide and broad, biceps thick. His waist is small, but it adds a little allure to his frame, giving him a little shape. He has a sense of style about him too, another tick in the ‘pro’ column for him. His suit is a simple one but it reeks of great expense. Black, slim fit, no tie. Crisp, white button down with the first couple of buttons undone. Black red bottoms, and a titanium, black faced Hublot watch.

Creed Aventus fills your nostrils as you breathe in and your muscles clench again. You like a man with lavish taste.

“Champagne, please. Not too much though, I don’t like to drink when I’m with a client.” Curious eyes follow you as you move towards the ice bucket, staying on you as you pour two flutes, “I don’t want any misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?”

His thick fingers brush along yours as you step close, handing him the tall, thin flute. They’re soft, his fingers. He nods gently, clinking the rim of his glass with yours before he lifts it to his pink lips, licking them slowly, “Gotta keep a clear head.”

A sharp inhale of air fills your lungs; a sly smile tugs at your lips. Through hooded eyes, the two of you keep watch of the other as you both down the bubbly champagne. Your lips tingle as you rub the glass along your bottom lip, your eyes bouncing around his handsome, heavily bearded face. His eyes twinkle underneath the lights as they roam— down your chest and stomach, down your long legs— slowly. Drinking you in. Taking stock of each curve, each dip, each line.

His eyes snap back to yours suddenly, but they’re different. Hungry. Aggressive. You take another breath, holding it in your chest for a tick before you exhale and cross your legs, squeezing them tight.

He takes a step forward, closing the already small distance between the two of you to a mere inch, maybe even less than that. He drops his eyes again, his eyelids closing to slits, the dark, delicate, long eyelashes lining them splash out on his cheeks. He inhales deep, a small, thin hum vibrating in his throat as he’s filled with the sweetness of your perfume.

“Nervous?”

The word greets your ears softly, just as it left his pretty mouth. You lick your bottom lip and pull it between your teeth, chewing as your eyes bounce between his. He smiles, pushing his face closer so the tips of your noses touch. He rubs your noses together slowly, up along your bridge, and then the tips again, his smile growing.

“There’s no need to be nervous. We’ll take it real nice and slow, okay?” his voice steady and smooth, low and soft, “You’ve never done this before?”

Two mammoth hands push along your hips, slowly dragging up and down, up and down, up and down. You swallow, a pathetic tremble sounding in your throat that gets him to smile again, “It’s that obvious?”

He chuckles, “It’s okay, honey.” he answers, hands pushing over your ass, “I’ll get you warmed up.”

He squeezes your behind; you inhale again, your hands settling on his chest. Your body is moving, swaying gently back and forth at his insistence, his hands pushing up to the small of your back. Blue eyes stay on deep browns as his warm palm settles in the center of your back, holding you in his orbit. You start to rub his chest, feeling the bulk, the muscles of him— the thick. Your index finger drifts; drifts towards the open buttons of his shirt, playing with them; eyes settling on the sliver of skin and dark hair showing through.

A knuckle pushes just underneath your chin, pressing, pressing, pressing until your head, more importantly your mouth, is tilted up to his. Your eyelids instantly— instinctively— droop, lips part in wait, in want; in need. Hooded blue eyes gaze back at you, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“May I?”

Shudders ripple down your spine as reddened lips brush along yours, “Please.” It’s desperate— the way you ask.

Steve licks into you with his tongue, groaning a little when he sucks your top lip into his mouth. He pulls you in, right up against his hard body, your hands sliding over his shoulders and wrapping around his neck. This mouth is skilled— tongue slipping along your bottom lip and caressing your own. Not too rough, not too gentle, just enough to make you melt into him; to make you go a little limp in his arms.

He nibbles on your bottom lip, pulling softly until he lets go, letting it snap back to your face. A giggle bubbles up, filling the air surrounding you and you swear you feel his dick twitch.

“Feel better?”

You smile sweetly, pulling out of his grasp and sauntering towards your abandoned phone. Tapping into the short text stream with him, you snap your eyes back to him when his phone chimes seconds later. You watch as he digs it out of his pocket and another grin cracks his face as his cash app alerts him to the fifteen hundred deposited into his account.

“Does that answer your question?”

Those pretty white teeth of his dig into his bottom lip, trying and failing to hide the grin that’s been brought upon by your quick wit. He pulls his jacket off of his shoulders, tossing it over the back of the couch before ticking his head towards the bedroom, “Bed please.”

You do not hesitate. You pass by each other as you move towards the bedroom, him towards the ice bucket, plucking it from the table in the center of the room and turning on his heel to follow you. You toss your eyes over your shoulder as you flounce, hips switching again, heels clink, clink, clinking against the marble floor.

The lights of the bedroom rise automatically from the sudden motion in the room. You feel weightless as you fall onto the mattress hands first, crawling into the center of the king bed. His footsteps continue to sound as he enters behind you, setting the champagne bucket at the end of the bed as you prop against the headboard, drawing your legs up, swaying them back and forth slowly.

Steve keeps his eyes on you as he starts to pull on his cufflinks, unclipping the double knotted, sterling silver Tiffany & Co. accessories to free his arms. He rolls his sleeves up his forearms, revealing hair and thick veins— more flexing muscles. Blue eyes bounce between the task at hand and you, that soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips never wavering, never leaving. Foreplay at its best.

Once his forearms are free of the constricting material around them, he grabs the champagne bottle by the neck and plucks out a crystal flute, dropping his eyes from yours as he pours another glass. He moves around the side of the bed, champagne bottle in hand as he sits next to you, handing over the full glass. Lifting it to your lips, you snap your eyes to him when he tuts quickly, wagging that thick index finger back and forth.

Your mouth drops open, eyes go large as you watch him take a swig, right from the bottle. He then leans over you, pushing his index finger into your chin again, tilting your head up towards his. Warm, pink lips crowd your open mouth, his eyes closing gently, the cool, bubbly liquid slipping from his mouth right into yours. You sound— sweet, tiny, pitiful— as you swallow his offering, him kissing you quick after, not giving you time to reel from the intimacy of it.

He’s gone again, just as quickly as he came, heading back to the end of the bed. He knees onto the edge, large palms sliding over your bent knees, fingertips slipping down your calves, gripping and groping as they go. He drops one hand— right to his pants— sends his eyes back to yours as he pops the shiny button and unzips them at a snail's pace. Steve lets his pants hang open as he slides his hands down your thighs, all the way down to the juncture of your hips and legs, pushing his thumbs into the creases.

Steve pushes forward, forcing your legs open as he settles in, resting that hard, lean, strapping body on yours— kissing you again. Deep this time. Bruising. Tongue kneading yours, smacking and sucking your lips into his wet mouth. Moans, both his and yours, thrum and vibrate in your chests and throats. Your muscles clench again.

Lips and mouth are on the move— down your chin, nuzzling into the soft, sensitive crook of your neck. He licks, slow, before sucking the skin, finding that one little pesky spot that makes your hips jut up into his quick. He’s hard, and that makes you whimper again. You hold the champagne flute up high in your right hand, trying not to spill the contents as your hips start to roll, free hand wrapping around and digging into his thick bicep— but you aren’t so lucky. A few drops dribble from the glass and onto your chest, slipping down between your cleavage.

You shiver when his hot tongue slides between your tits to collect the cold droplets, his hands prying the silk material of your bra down. There’s a sound, a grunt, that cultivates deep in his throat at the sight of you, bare and wanton— nipples thick and perky. He slips his hands behind your back to unhook your bra, tossing it without a care to the floor once you’re free.

He inhales sharp, a hiss slipping through his teeth, “Fuck, these are beautiful.”

Your back arches up into his hands as he grabs your tits, squeezing gently, him moaning all the while. He thumbs your nipples before taking one into his warm mouth, tongue flicking and swirling, teeth grabbing. Your body jerks up into him, hips and chest, mouth falls open before your face twists in pleasure. He gives your other breast the same attention— kissing, licking, sucking before he ventures on, his fingers digging underneath the thin band of your tights and pulling gently.

Reddened lips follow his fingers, down your waist, down your hips, down your thighs, calves, ankles, toes until you’re free of the sheer garment. You sip on the bubbly champagne as his hot tongue pushes up the inside of your calf. Sweet kisses are pressed against the subtle curve of your knee, blue eyes through long, dark eyelashes on yours the whole while. Deep, stormy eyes— the kind of eyes that make you wanna think they’re only for you; aroused by you and you alone.

He draws that red bottom lip between his teeth, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, eyes twinkling with a bit of mischief as he nuzzles into your thigh. His fingers curl around the strings of your thong as his eyes dip quickly. You close your eyes and take another sip of your drink when he starts to pull, a soft smile of your own spreading on your face as he exposes you.

There’s fingers— suddenly. Softly. Rubbing. A low hum vibrating in his throat as he touches you. A soft moan slips from between your lips as your hips start to roll, meeting each pass of his digits. Your slick already; clit hypersensitive, almost pained from going so long without. His touch is experienced, slow and deliberate as he presses soft, warm kisses against your thigh, rubbing his bearded cheek against the delicate skin.

The tips of his fingers start to drift. Down, down, down, away from your nub and to your slit where he rubs— caresses— gently. Then they’re pushing, his fingers, index and middle, sinking into you deep, pulling a sharp gasp from you.

He smiles wide before pushing out a breath, “That’s a tight fit, honey baby.” he purrs before blowing softly onto your hot, wet cunt, “It’s been a while, huh?” his voice soft, fingers pumping slowly, “Yeah, it’s been a while. Look at you squeezing down on me, baby.”

Your body jerks when Steve presses his lips to your pussy. He hums as he kisses you again and again and again, before he flattens his tongue against your clit, rubbing gently. He sucks you into his mouth, his eyes closing, eyelashes spreading over his cheeks. Your thin fingers thread into his long, blonde hair, gripping and tugging as your hooded eyes watch his head bob left and right, up and down while he devours you.

Heat blooms in your chest and stomach as you take another sip of champagne and it settles in your belly. You rest your heavy head against the headboard, licking your lips as uncontrolled moans spill from your mouth. Another sharp gasp fills the room as a third finger slips into your eager body. You can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up in your chest, and the satisfied groan that follows.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?”

His voice is as smooth as silk, the deepness of it rattling your fragile bones, “This isn’t all that I wanted, but this is a good start, Mr. Rog—” you pant, words cut off as you lift your hips when he starts to hit that little spot, “Ah, fuck.”

“Mmmm,” he purrs again, “I know this isn’t all you wanted, greedy girl.” Greedy girl. Your cunt clenches at the words, “Oooh,” he smiles as sitting up a little when he feels you tighten, “You like that? Are you Daddy’s greedy girl?”

The champagne flute slips from your fingers, the liquid spilling over your chest and stomach, pooling in your belly button, “Uh oh,” he coos, slipping his tongue up your body, sucking up the spill with his lips as he goes, “Responsive little thing.”

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving you empty, causing a frustrated, childish grunt to rumble through your chest. Steve tuts at you again, although smiling all the while as he starts to work himself out of his shirt. You bite down into your bottom lip as you watch him, more and more of his buttery, tanned, smooth skin coming into view.

His chest is wide, thick with conditioned muscles. Dark hair is splashed across the pallet of his pecs, the little happy trail spreading out across his lower stomach. There’s a deep v carved into his hips— hard abs and biceps flex as he moves. His weight leaves the mattress as he stands and shoves his fingers into his pants, pushing them down sturdy, hairy thighs. Your eyes instantly fall to the dick print in his black Armani stretch boxer briefs. Fuck.

You slip your hand down your side, over your hip and right between your sticky folds, hissing gently as you start to rub yourself, impatient and needy.

“Good girl.” he praises, making your heart sing.

He drops his hand to his dick, squeezing himself as he smirks at you. What a fucking tease— but nonetheless, your pussy clenches around absolutely nothing from just the sight of him. Those fingers of his push underneath the stretchy band of his boxers and start to tug, slowly, slowly, slowly, exposing more and more of his wiry, dark hair and skin. You drag in a deep breath when his cock finally springs free, an impressive girth bouncing as the material pushes over it.

He steps out of his boxers and starts to stroke himself, long, slow drags of his hand up and down his shaft as he watches you dip your fingers into your pussy. You tilt your hips upward as you pump your fingers, the heel of your palm pressing against your clit. Your mouth falls open, your eyes flutter, air chokes up in your throat as you fuck yourself for him, enjoying his hungry eyes on all of you.

But when he’s had enough, he’s had enough. He falls onto his knees, his weight dipping into the mattress and inches towards you, pulling your hand away. His fingers replace yours, rubbing your clit, pushing through your folds, teasing your slit quickly before he slides his hands underneath your butt and pulls you down the bed. His fingers dance over your knees before he pushes them apart and your legs fall open, pussy on full display.

Steve falls over you, hands on either side of your head, as he leans downs and captures your lips again, kissing you sweetly. There’s a sharp taste on his lips and tongue— it's you. You lean into his kiss, deepening it with your tongue as you push your hips upward, shivering when the tip of his cock glances over your clit. Shivers wrack your body again, prompting him to laugh, “Okay greedy girl, okay.”

He pulls back, rolling his shoulders as he slips his fingers between your breasts. You reach for him too— raking your fingers down his chest and stomach as he starts to push at your opening. You grip his side, digging your nails into his thick skin as the head of his cock breaks into you. He slides, agonizingly slow, his long fingers wrapping around your throat as he disappears into you, his own mouth dropping open as you envelope him.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his head fall as he pushes a breath out of his mouth, his grip around your neck tightening slightly, “You fit me like a glove, honey.”

You push your hips, urging him to move as you wrap your small hand around his wrist and push it up his long arm, stroking gently, “Come on, baby.” You murmur, using your head to push away from the mattress slightly.

“What’s that, honey?” he asks, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”

You mewl, husky, hips still pushing up into his, “God— fuck me, Steve. Please.”

You push your hips down into the mattress, his dick drawing out of you just slightly. You thrust back up, pushing him back in, deep, before you pull back again— over and over and over. He watches the connection, watching himself disappear and then reappear as he squeezes your throat, a steady, gentle pressure. You keep a hold of his large wrist, gasping and whimpering as you fuck up onto him.

“That’s right, doll,” he whispers, “You fuck my dick, baby. I should be paying you, shouldn’t I?”

You roll your shoulders, moaning loud, “Please,” you beg— nearly cry, “Please, fuck me. Please!”

He thrusts into you hard— biting off the words in your throat. You squeak when he fucks into you again, your tits bouncing with the force.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, thrusting into you a third time, “Hmm? Is that what you want, honey?”

You nod quickly, your face breaking, a long, strangled noise spilling out of you as he pushes his hips into yours. He sets a bruising pace after the first teasing thrusts. Hard, fast pumps of his hips into yours, skin against skin, the sound bouncing off the walls. Wet, choked sounds squeak out from you as he keeps a hold of your throat, your small hands still wrapped around his wrist and forearm. You swallow hard, the pressure from his hand making it slightly difficult but the sheer power— or the restraint he shows despite his obvious strength— makes you want to melt into the mattress.

Steve leans down, licking into your mouth with his tongue as he fucks. He kisses you hard, releasing with a loud smack before he grabs your face and chin, squeezing your cheeks as he shakes your head back and forth gently, “Does that feel good, baby?” he taunts, his red, full lips brushing along yours, “Come on sweetness, don’t go all quiet on me now.”

“S’good,” you grunt, slamming your eyes closed, “Fu— ah! Fuck!”

“That’s right, girl. This is exactly what you needed.”

You’re hoisted up, right up into his lap, your legs curling around his sides. Not missing a beat, you start to bounce and rock freely, throwing your head back as you hang on to his broad shoulders. His large hand wraps around your throat again, but his fingers creep up over your chin, the tips pushing into your mouth. You hum as you suck on them, sucking the salt of your slick right off the pads of his fingers.

Your wet muscles squeak with each push of his cock. Quick, hot spurts of precum dribbling into you as his hips thrust to meet yours. His free hand grips your hips, hefty fingers pushing into your skin, helping you move. Your nipples brush along his chest, the gentle sensation sending flashes of heat and electricity through your body— shudders racing down your spine. The hand around your waist snakes up your back, his fingers playing with the ends of your braids.

He pulls gently, then backs off, mouth agape and eyes wide as they search your face, seemingly asking permission. He tugs again and you let him— your head falling back as your tongue pushes down the length of the index and middle fingers still shoved in your mouth. Your scalp prickles with pain as he pulls harder, craning your head back further, exposing your neck. A screech explodes from your lips when his pearly whites sink into the crook of your neck before he sucks hard, pulling blood to the surface.

Faltering hips, wet smacks, damp skin to damp skin— it’s all so filthy. So crude— but exactly what you’ve needed. His hands leave your hair, leave your mouth; one wraps around your throat and the other thumbs your nipple. He keeps his eyes on you as he hisses, his hips pushing, fingers tweaking, hand tightening to push you closer and closer towards a release. Your pitch heightens, your grunts and cries shaky and desperate as he eggs you on.

“You gonna come for me, sugar?” he asks sweetly, kissing you quick and hard, “It’s okay baby, you can let go. You’ve earned it, sweet girl. You’ve been such a good girl.”

A broken moan chokes in your throat. He ruts harder and faster, each thrust pushing deeper, touching that sweet, vulnerable spot until—

Red hot is the orgasm that ripples through you. You wail as it blooms across your flesh, your toes curling and fingers digging into his shoulders. He grabs your hips as you come, guiding you down onto his cock, and then helping you rock back and forth to drain every last drop of your release. His grip around your waist tightens, his own grunts growing louder before a burst of heat swells in your cunt.

Steve punctuates his spurts with deep, sharp thrusts, hissing and groaning with each one until he’s spent. He murmurs sweet nothings into your neck, hot breath sticking to your damp skin. Your limbs turn to liquid, your head fuzzy and warm as he guides you down to the mattress. He slips out of you, strings of silk following, trickling down your hot, trembly cunt. Sweet, soft lips press against your chest and stomach, over your hips and down your legs as large hands massage your thighs and calves.

A calm washes through you as your eyes grow heavy, your breaths getting deeper and longer as you melt into the soft mattress. You feel Steve moving around, crawling back up to where you are. A long arm slips over your stomach, pulls you close, right into his warm chest and stomach. His beard and lips brush over your temple and cheek, soft fingertips run up and down your arm, pretty epithets lulling you into a gentle sleep.

You’re just as sweet as sugar, honey baby. Such a good girl.

~~~

You roll your shoulders as you shift, eyes fluttering as you start to wake. It takes a few long seconds before your eyes adjust, the room lights having long since dimmed. The moon is high in the jet black sky as bright stars smatter across the canvas. You're still cocooned underneath a heavy arm and crushed against a burly chest, a soft smile spreading on your face as he snores gently.

3:12am flashes on the digital clock on the nightstand as you feel him roll away from you in his sleep, rolling over onto his side, exposing his wide back. Your fingers instantly glance over his smooth skin, skimming down his spine before they curl over his bicep. You should have been sated, but there’s another pull— deep in your belly; still eager, still wanting. Closing the distance between your bodies, you push your bare breasts into his back as you slide your hand underneath the sheets and down his chest and stomach.

You push up onto your elbow and thread your fingers into his dirty blonde hair as your other fingers brush over his soft cock. You wrap your small hand around him and stroke him gently, right from his stomach to the tip of his pretty dick, your palm sweeping over his cockhead and slit. Another smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as he stirs after a few minutes but doesn’t fully wake; just pushes his hips languidly into your hand.

His deep breathing soon turns shallow and choppy, soft moans scratching at the back of his throat but he never opens his eyes. Warm droplets of precum bubble from his slit and you brush the pads of your fingers over the wetness, dragging it back down his quickly hardening shaft. You rile him up, make his cock rigid and angry before you pull on his hip, rolling him over onto his back.

You throw your leg over his body and settle on top of him, ass up, lips mere inches from his hot sex. In one fell swoop, you follow your hand down his cock with your mouth, his hips jerking softly from the wet warmth surrounding him. Humming, you flatten your tongue along him, the tip tracing the thick vein that runs the length of his shaft. You bob your head up and down, sucking and swirling your tongue over his tip, teasing his slit as more drops of salt-sweet cum dribble on your tongue.

Steve’s hands slither up your thighs, grab your ass and squeeze as you suck him off, his hips jutting upward into your velvet mouth. Your mouth goes slack, your eyes fluttering when he slips two fingers into your wet cunt. He fingers you slow, his thumb pressing against your asshole as you start to writhe, rolling your hips against his hard abs to massage your clit.

You pull off of him, your hand still moving up and down, squeezing him as you pucker your lips— letting them gently brush against his cock. His hips rock up into your hand, his moans growing louder by the minute, deep gasps and sighs making his chest tighten underneath your body.

“Goddamn, baby,” his voice low and groggy from sleep.

Your muscles clench around his fingers as they delve and prod, his thumb pushing and circling your warm rim. A hot breath and a quick groan push out between your teeth, his dick jumping in your hand as the air tickles his skin. You swallow him again, taking every inch, relaxing your throat to accommodate him as you bury your face in the dark blonde hair at his groin.

Steve curls his fingers, lightly scratching at your insides, making you clamp down on them, squeezing them tight; holding them in.

Steve shifts underneath you, sucking in a sharp breath, “Get up here, baby. I wanna taste you.”

The sound of his voice rattles through you. His words still slurred with sleep, voice husky. You oblige, wanting his beard between your legs once more, sweeping along the inside of your thighs. You clamor up to him, straddling his face, your thighs closing in on either side of his head. Steve flattens his head on the pillow underneath him and opens his mouth, pushing his tongue out in anticipation of you.

You push your hips forward, rolling your cunt over his lips and tongue. Your head falls back, jaw goes slack as you start to ride his face, his tongue pushing through your sticky, puffy folds with ease. A wet noise fills the room— both his tongue and lips smacking and sucking on your messy flesh. Your hand finds his cock again, your fingers fondling his tip and that pulsing vein.

A chorus of whimpers and whines, quick gasps and deep growls roll through your chest as you grab his hair, pulling his face— if it’s possible— even closer to your cunt. Steve's face is flushed red in the moonlight. He balls the sheets in his hands as he flicks the tip of his tongue against you before he sucks your folds and clit into his mouth, his head shaking gently back and forth. He only releases you to drag in quick, wet breaths before closing back in on you, humming and moaning.

A soft burn spreads through your thighs as you canter your hips, using his chin and nose, along with his tongue and mouth to cop a feel. You’re close again, hips jerking with unexpectancy, your core also starting to burn as your body strains with its need.

Steve isn’t done with you yet. He rearranges you quickly, lifting you right off of him. Your knees sink into the mattress as he grabs your wrists and flattens your hands flat on the headboard.

He fucks into you from behind, not wasting a second in setting a brisk pace. He holds your hips in his hands, fingers digging into your skin as you drop your head, your braids swinging. Your tits bounce with his thrusts, your head knocking into the velvet headboard as you hold yourself up against it. Steve’s hips and balls slap against your ass as he gruffly pulls you back into him. A hand curls around your hip and travels up to your tits, grabbing your nipple between his index finger and thumb to tweak and pull and roll the thick nub.

You’re panting again, cursing and howling as your stomach tightens and your heart leaps, heat rippling through you. A quick sweat pops up on your brow, goosebumps prickle up along your body as your toes start to curl again. Steve’s hips are relentless, driving, driving, driving hard, his girth filling every inch that you have to offer. His fingers start to prod your asshole again, pushing gently against your rim as it constricts and relaxes.

It doesn’t take much. The soft pads of his fingers against your rim, and one, two, three more  strokes of his hips and you’re gone. Your mind going blank as your orgasm rushes. Steve fucks you right through it, dropping a hand to your clit as it jumps with the contractions of your cunt. He teases it— your clit— slapping and rubbing quick circles as your walls squeeze around him, finally coaxing him to come again.

You decide that you like the way it feels when he comes inside of you. His silk ribbons coating your squeaky muscles. You collapse against the mattress after your release washes through you. Steve falls beside you, rolling over onto his back and flattening his hand in the middle of his chest as he catches his breath.

“Gettin’ your money’s worth, huh?”

You dissolve into laughter, pushing your face into the blankets as you lay on your stomach, “I am a shrewd businesswoman, Mr. Rogers.”

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”

~~~

“It’s a financial risk, for sure,” you reiterate, hands shoved into the pockets of your slim fit pants, your suit jacket open, “But I assure you, we can turn this company around. Carter & Danvers hasn’t had an acquisition fail in over thirty years. I will personally oversee this transition through— until it’s turning a profit.”

All eyes are on you in the boardroom as Hank Prym, CEO and pain in the ass that just won’t sign the goddamn contract, of Lang & Prym Inc. stares back at you, fingers threaded over his lips. For whatever reason, he doesn’t trust you or anything that you have to say, despite the fact that within six months— or less— his company will have to file bankruptcy. Natasha Romanov, CFO of Lang & Prym, sits to his left, green eyes sliding between his and yours. Her delicate fingers play with the pen between them, rolling it slowly as she tosses her short, red hair.

“Mr. Prym,” she starts, “We have to do something. We aren’t going to last much longer without their help. I crunched the numbers for you multiple times.”

He shakes his head slowly, his dark eyes glancing off towards the windows, “We have time, right?”

“We do,” Natasha nods, “But—“

“I’m not ready to sign yet. Not yet,” he stands, and everyone else placed around the table follows his lead. He moves around the table and up to where you are, extending his hand and shaking yours gently, “You’re good, but I’m just not ready yet.”

You smile softly, tapping the back of his hand with your free one, “That’s alright, this is tough, I realize that.”

“I’m glad they sent you instead of that Wade Wilson,” he chuckles, “How long are you in town for?”

“Indefinitely. Until you sign with us, Mr. Prym, I’m a Los Angelean.”

“Well,” he starts, taking a step towards the door, “Have Natasha show you around town. She knows this little taco place that’s to die for.”

You toss your eyes towards Natasha as she approaches and wink, “I’ll take her up on that. She’s already given me a tip or two about the lays of the land.”

You shake hands with the rest of the board members as they exit the room, finally leaving you and the smirking redhead alone. There may be a little underlying tension between you and her, you aren’t entirely sure yet, but you know that her eyes tend to linger on your frame just a tad longer than they should— not that you mind the extra attention, especially from someone as effortlessly attractive as she is.

Her arms are crossed over her chest as she sits on the edge of the mahogany table. A tight, black pencil skirt accentuates her shapely hips and long legs. A red satin blouse, unbuttoned strategically to show off her soft, pretty, full breasts.

“You’re looking a little more lively today.” Her silk smooth voice floats towards you, making you smile, “You gave my pal a call, eh?”

A devilish smile curls on your lips as you push your hands back into your pockets, “He was worth every fucking cent.”

“Glad to hear it.” She winks, and pushes away from the table, her manicured fingers reaching for your tie. She steps in close as she drags her hand down the length of the skinny tie, her big eyes following, “Maybe the three of us can get dinner sometime, hmm?”

You wiggle your eyebrows, “You just name the time and place, Ms. Romanov.”

She hums approvingly before smoothing down your tie and turning on her heel, clicking out of the boardroom with her file folders in hand.

You plop down in the chair behind your open laptop, exiting out of your powerpoint and bringing up your email. You work for a while, but your mind drifts, back to the night before, back to one Steve Rogers. Broad shoulders, smooth skin, sweet, pretty mouth… soon, the thoughts keep you from working. Soon, you’re leaning back in your chair, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as you sway gently back and forth.

You slide your phone out of your pocket and thumb through your messages, landing on his number. Tapping the screen, you stand and bring it to your ear as you take a few steps towards the windows, your eyes scanning over the city as the phone rings.

“Back so soon?”

You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as his warm voice fills your ears, “You make it hard to stay away, I must admit. How are you, I’m not disturbing you am I? I mean, you’re probably a busy man.”

He laughs, a warm, deep laugh and your body tightens “I do take breaks, you know.” You giggle, a sudden nervous energy filling you, which is strange. You usually have no problem asking for things you want, “Don’t get all shy on me now, girl.”

“God,” you scoff, tittering again, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Come on, I thought we were passed all this? Do I need to come over there and help you relax again?”

Muscles you weren’t even sure you had, clench tight, “Are you free tonight, Mr. Rogers?”

“You know, I like that. All that Mr. Rogers stuff,” You hear him moving around, then a deep exhale, “I wish I were, doll, but I’ve got a date. Dinner and a function.”

You click your tongue, your shoulders dropping as a quick flash of disappointment washes through you. It doesn’t last long, the disappointment— hell, you make deals for a living, “I’ll double whatever she’s paying you.”

“Oooh,” he purrs, “Jealous, baby?”

“Not jealous,” you point out, “I just don’t like to wait, and I don’t like to lose. It’s not in my nature.”

“That’s very flattering, but I can’t do that. I have a reputation in this city.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I’m sure you do.”

“I do! I can’t cancel on such short notice.”

“Then meet me for dessert.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs earnestly, “Listen, I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

You cover your face with your hand, laughing again, “Oh my god,” you sigh, “Well, fuck. I’ll get with Natasha and see if she can recommend another option for the evening...”

You hear him shuffle through the phone again, another deep sigh pushing out of his nose. He’s quiet for a beat as you tap your index finger against the edge of your phone, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Let me get back to you a little later tonight, alright? You and Ms. Romanov behave over there.”

“I told you I was shrewd.”

“You sure did. Wait up for me, babe.”

You smile big, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, “Will do.”

~~~

His knock sounds through the hotel room, making you tear your eyes from your laptop. You finish your email before pushing away from the small table and padding towards the door, your lace, burgundy kimono flailing with the air. You pull open the door and step to the side instinctively as Steve traipses through the threshold. You let it close with a soft click before you lean against it, crossing your legs and tilting your head as you find two crystal blue eyes on you.

The two of you blink at each other, eyes traveling over one anothers frames. He shrugs out of his black velvet jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch before he starts on his cufflinks. You watch in silence as he rolls up his sleeves, one by one, exposing his forearms just how you like— all veins and hair. His biceps bulge in the white button down, chest rippling underneath his black vest. He keeps flipping his eyes towards you, peeking through those lashes as he smiles.

He beckons you with his index finger and without hesitation, you’re moving towards him, pushing away from the door with your hands. Once you’re within range, he reaches for you, wrapping his long arm around your waist to pull you into him. Laughter bubbles up in your chest as you crash against him, his lips capturing yours in a flurry of kisses.

His hands push over your ass, squeezing your flesh before his palms push up and down your hips, “You look beautiful.” He says softly, his eyes drifting down your matching burgundy and navy bra and panties

You toss your braids over your shoulder before placing your hands back on his chest, “Thank you. How was your dinner?”

“Filling,” he smiles, “But I left room for dessert.”

“Well,” you start, pulling out of his grasp and moving back towards the table, “Hopefully you like chocolate.”

You spin on the balls of your feet to face him again, holding up a small plate with a large piece of chocolate cake. You smile as he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he steps up to you, leaning down just a tad to take a whiff of the freshly baked German chocolate cake. He opens his mouth, flicking those big blue eyes up to yours again, waiting patiently. You pluck the fork that’s dug into the spongy cake and cut off a small piece before placing it at his lips.

He takes it slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he slides his tongue along the bottom of the fork, sucking the cake into his mouth. He chews it carefully, closing his eyes as he hums in satisfaction, licking his lips, “That is good.”

You pop a piece into your mouth, agreeing with his sentiments, “Mmhmm, this is really good.”

Cutting off another piece, you slide it into your mouth, closing your eyes and moaning again. You feel his gaze, drifting down your chest and stomach, down your legs and then back up again. It feels nice— having his full attention. You don’t intend to go without it for the rest of your stay in L.A. While waiting for him, you came up with the perfect solution— your greatest deal yet.

With a gentle flutter, your eyes are open again, finding his staring back into yours. A flush of red seeps into his cheeks and lips, down his neck as his eyes drop to your chest quickly.

“Something the matter?” You ask coolly.

He shakes his head slowly, sucking his teeth, “Rethinking my decision to have dinner, that’s all.”

A smile quirks onto your lips, “A man has to eat, Mr. Rogers.”

“I can survive on chocolate cake and champagne.”

“Not for too long; unless…” your words drift away with ease as you step away from him again, grabbing your phone and heading towards the bedroom.

The soft click of his Christian Loubotin slip ons against the marble floor greets your ears as he follows. You point the fork towards your champagne glass still sitting on the table but keep walking, passing through the threshold of the sprawling bedroom and plopping onto the equally big bed. He enters moments later, hands full of a champagne glass and bottle. The mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge, right next to you, where he watches you chew on another piece of the rich cake intently, his gaze only leaving to top off the bubbly, golden liquid.

Steve waits until you pause to pass the square champagne flute your way, thick fingers brushing along your thin, manicured ones. That strong gaze stays on you as you sip, a lopsided grin pinching his cheek, slow blinks until you hand the flute back and cut into the cake once more.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

He clears his throat at your sudden aloof demeanor, “Don’t be coy, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

He laughs, “Maybe a spanking will help rejog your memory.”

You cut your eyes towards him, inhaling sharply at the notion, “Do you charge extra for that?”

“Only for naughty girls.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.”

You throw your legs over the side of the bed to stand playfully, but he catches your calf with his palm and gently rearranges you on the bed. He takes the fork from your fingers and digs it into the half eaten cake before bringing it to your lips.

“Answer me, please.”

You accept his offering slowly as your body constricts at the firm tone of his voice. You bat your eyes while you chew before slipping your hand down his wrist and forearm, stroking gently, “I was just thinking that you could possibly survive off of chocolate and champagne if that someone indulging you is also offering other vital nutrients.”

His eyes squint as he goes for another piece of cake, this time eating the bite himself, “Ah,” he says after a minute or two, his eyes towards the ceiling as he works it over in his mind, “You’re saying you’d also like to be my dinner.”

“Precisely. I mean, it doesn’t really make sense to leave one restaurant after the main course just to go to another for dessert.”

“It is timely; and, as you know, my time is extremely valuable.” He nods slowly, “My clients are a demanding bunch.”

You smile, “And don’t like to share.”

Steve pushes in close, brushing his lips against yours just to tease. He drops his face and nuzzles into you, the soft hair of his beard caressing the sensitive flesh of your neck before his lips start to nip and nibble.

“So you are jealous.”

The husky fullness of his voice sends a targeted missile to your core— your heart skipping a beat as the air freezes in your lungs. The feeling sinks right to your bones. A devilish hand slips along your bare stomach and around your hip to squeeze, before pulling you closer. A pink, velvet tongue presses against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sliding up to your ear before he plants gentle, gentle kisses.

“How are we going to solve this problem?” He whispers, teeth nibbling at your earlobe.

“Mmm,” you hum, “Maybe we should talk when you aren’t so full. I’m a woman of class— I don’t eat leftovers.” Your sentence ends in a whisper as you lean up and get right next to his ear.

His chuckle is deep, vibrating through you. He takes a breath, his chest puffing up, straining his shirt and vest before he pushes it out slowly, “I still have two hands and a mouth.”

“I don’t know where those have been either.”

“Well then why don’t you give me a bath? That way you can be assured I’m clean.” He stands, extending his hand towards you, “Maybe I can work up a second appetite.”

Steve whisks you into the bathroom, only dropping your hand to start the bath. You lean against the long counter, crossing your legs as you watch him undress. He takes his time of course, flicking those eyes up at you every now and again as he sheds the rest of his Tom Ford suit, taking the time to fold it up and set it aside. Your eyes can’t help but drift, down that chest and hard stomach, over the smattering of coarse, dark blonde hair at his lower stomach, right to his thick, long cock.

“I usually make clients pay before letting them ogle me,” he winks, “You’re getting a freebie. Come.” He beckons again, curling his index finger towards you.

“Oh?” you purr, pushing away from the counter and sauntering to him, “Why am I so lucky to get such a perk?”

Steve inhales deep again as he slides his hands underneath your kimono at the shoulders, pushing it right off, “I like you.”

“You barely know me.”

He spins you around, fingers unhooking your bra before he crushes his chest to your back, “I have a feeling that’s going to change.” He whispers, pressing his cheek against yours as he stares at you through the mirror.

He pushes his hands over your hips, fingers curling around the strings of your thong, slipping it down your thighs. He bends to lift each leg, pulling the undergarment from you and tossing it atop his pile of clothes. A large hand encases yours and moves you to the edge of the tub, keeping a tight hold as you step into the hot water.

“My phone, please?” you ask sweetly as you settle down, resting your back against the porcelain.

Steve disappears momentarily only to return with your phone and another flute of champagne. He sits the items on the edge of the tub and slips into the opposite end, grabbing your feet and placing them against his chest. He lifts your right leg and starts pressing his thumbs into the bottom of your foot, rubbing firm circles, smiling slowly when you moan. Grabbing your phone, you thumb through your music before Prince fills the bathroom.

“I thought I was supposed to give you a bath?”

“We’ll get to that,” he says easily, lifting your toes to his lips, kissing them softly, “I want to hear this plan of yours.”

You pull your foot from his grasp and reach for your loofah and shower gel before pulling on his wrist to get him to move towards you. Steve slides between your legs as you separate them, wrapping them around his waist as he lays against your chest. You dip the loofah into the water, letting it soak it up before you squeeze it over his chest. A smile and a laugh bubble from you when you start to wash his chest as low groans rumble through his chest.

You push him up to sweep the soap over his shoulders and back, admiring the smooth canvas of tanned skin. He relaxes easy, muscles cooling and calming under your fingers, his breaths getting deep and long. The length of his body captivates you as you push the sudsy loofah over his bicep and down his arm, not able to reach his wrist without straining.

“You alright back there?”

“Shut up,” another giggle pushes through your lips, “You know, my legs are forty four inches from hip to toe, so that means you have eighty eight inches wrapped around you right now and you’re still longer than I am.” You kiss the tiny spot just underneath his ear, “Your mama fed you well.”

“She was a good woman, my mama. Hell of a cook.”

“Was?”

He sighs deeply as he runs his hands up and down your legs, “She died, a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, “That’s the meaning of life, right? You live, you love, you lose. I was lucky to have been able to take care of her until the end, some people don’t get that.” He tips his head up to yours, his eyes searching your face, “But that’s enough about me. How was your day?”

“Long,” you smile, anchoring your left hand in the middle of his chest as you continue to push the loofah around his body, “I couldn’t close my deal, so it looks like I’ll be in Los Angeles indefinitely.”

“We’re not that bad, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re not a Los Angelean,” you tease, poking him gently, “I can hear that Brooklyn in you, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

His laughter fills the bathroom, making you smile wide. It’s a nice sound, his laugh. It’s also nice knowing you can pull such a genuine response from him— the slight distance he’s worked so hard to build over the years slowly starting to slip away.

“I miss New York sometimes. I haven’t been back since—” he cuts the words off, but you know what he was going to say. He clears his throat, visibly catching himself slipping and tenses, trying to regain his control, “I’m sure this news has something to do with you wanting to be my dinner and dessert?”

“Yes, so,” you start, clearing your throat as well, “If it isn’t obvious, I quite enjoyed my night with you, and I’m sure you’ve picked up on the fact that I hate to share.”

“Only child, huh?”

“Shush,” you slap at him, “I don’t want to have to wait my turn for you, and I’m much too active, if you catch my drift, to go days between having you.”

He nods slowly, “I’m with you.”

“I’ll have business dinners and such, actually I’m attending a polo match on Saturday and I um, well, I’d like you to be… mine… while I’m here. Be at my every beck and call.” You click your tongue, “You know, like an employee of sorts.”

You peer at the side of his face as he sucks his teeth, nodding slowly, hands still dragging along and squeezing your legs, “That’s an idea, isn’t it?” he turns his head towards you, “You’re a very attractive woman, you could have anybody you want, for free. Ms. Romanov to start.”

“She talks about me?” you gasp, giggling a little, biting your lip, “But I can’t flaunt her around the way I want to, we’re technically working together, imagine if HR gets a whiff. No, I’d like a professional, although if you don’t mind, we could invite Ms. Romanov over to play every now and again.”

“Whew,” Steve chuckles, pecking your lips quickly, “I like the sound of that. Well, if you’re talking indefinitely, it’s gonna cost ya.”

You nod, “Of course. We’re both business people, we can work this out.”

He pulls in another breath, blinking towards the opposite walls, “That sounds lovely, and I’m flattered but,”

“Steve,” you whine, “Come on, you’re not even thinking about it.”

“I have dates lined up already.”

“Cancel them.”

“I can’t do that,” you scoff, “I can’t! Once you head back to New York, I’ll be the one dealing with a horde of angry women— if they’ll even want to see me again!”

“Okay,” you cut him off, “I’ll let you finish out your week. How’s that? Then, starting Saturday, you’re mine until my deal is closed.”

“That could be a month, or more.”

“It could be a day,” you shrug, “Name your price, I’ll pay it either way.” He grows silent, “The uncertainty makes you the real winner here.”

You walk your fingers up and down his chest, nuzzling against his cheek and wet beard as he thinks it over, “Let’s do some math,” you say after a while, grabbing your phone, “You charge fifteen hundred a night, right?”

“Yeah, but you want twenty four hours a day, and you want to show me off like some boy-toy,” he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows, “Price goes up.”

“Say it.”

He knocks his head around a few times, “Twelve thousand a week.”

“Fifteen hundred times seven is ten thousand and change, and even so, that alludes to you having a date every night of the week— which I doubt. Try again.”

“Fine, nine.”

“Five thousand a week,” you counter, “And I’ll pop for dinner on nights I don’t have a business engagement.”

“Eight thousand and I won’t charge you for threesomes with Ms. Romanov, which, I can easily talk her into.”

You laugh, “That’s not fair, we’ll both be enjoying those threesomes with Natasha. Six thousand, threesomes included,” you wink playfully, “You can stay here while I’m at work, and you can use up my thousand dollars a day per diem. The hotel has a spa, a gym, a world renowned five star chef in the twenty four hour restaurant— you can book a masseuse everyday for god sakes.”

Steve sucks his teeth, “Seventy five hundred.”

“Sixty five hundred.”

He smiles, “Seven thousand. You pay upfront, every Monday, and no refunds— no matter when your deal closes.”

You grab your phone, flipping over to your cash app. His phone vibrates in his pant pocket as you turn the face towards him, the seventy five hundred dollar transaction still lighting up the screen.

“A tip?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at the extra money.

“For humoring me. We got a deal, Mr. Rogers?”

He stands, water falling off his body as he steps out and grabs one of the fluffy, white towels, “Let’s fuck on it.”

You smile wide.

“You know,” he starts, wrapping your shoulders with the towel as you stand, “I would have stayed for five.”

You wiggle your eyebrows, “I would have paid twelve.”

~~~

It’s been a little over a week since your deal with Steve was struck, and the two of you have fallen into quite a lovely little routine. You’ve already gotten used to falling asleep on his chest, his long arms wrapped around your middle. Waking up at random times in the night to find him rutting into you softly, his warm breath on the back of your neck, hot lips pressed against your shoulder, fingers digging into your hips.

The two of you get along well— having dinner together every night, laughing and talking aimlessly whether it’s down in the restaurant or curled up on the couch, you in Steve’s lap as a random show plays in the distance (not that you’re ever paying attention to it). He’s a charmer, becoming an instant hit with the businessmen and women at the polo match and business dinner you were invited to. He looks good on your arm, and you like having him there.

Waking up with Steve is also fun. You currently stand in the bathroom, brushing your teeth as CNN plays in the embedded TV in the long mirror. There’s a shift in the reflection of the bed, Steve rolling over and letting out a deep sigh as he drifts back to sleep. Blinking back towards yourself, you glance down at your phone, tapping it to illuminate the time. You’ve got a few minutes to spare.

You rinse your mouth quickly and pad back into the bedroom, pulling the white sheets away from his naked body. The mattress dips under your knees as you climb onto it and place your hands on his thighs, raking your painted fingernails down his flesh. You knead the muscles, squeezing gently as you massage each thigh, working your way up from his knees. Within minutes, he’s growing, cock twitching before towering up, the light from the bathroom helping cast its shadow over his stomach.

There’s a quick sound from him, a half grunt, half moan, and you can’t help but smile— you’ve learned he’s a light sleeper. You sink your warm mouth over the head of his cock, your tongue swishing and teasing his slit. He gasps, and it sends a quick shiver down your spine, your pussy constricting as you push down his length, taking him all in.

You only bob your head a few times before his hips start to join in, pushing up into your mouth gently. Soft little moans choke up in his throat. Breaths hitching before he squeaks, his body twitching with each pass of your tongue. Hums vibrate through his throat and chest as he licks his lips and sinks his teeth into his bottom lip— a deep red flushing through his fair skin.

Each tiny sound from him, long hisses, desperate pants, quick, sharp whines as you work him over, sends jolts through your own body, your pussy wet and achy, stomach tight. But you have an early Zoom meeting, and time is slipping away. You reach for his hands and place them on your head as you slow down, giving him a clear signal.

He slips one of his hands down your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently against your skin to get you to peek up at him. You nod quickly, and not a second goes by before he grabs a handful of your braids and fucks hard up into your awaiting mouth. You moan with him as he forces your head down with his hands, his hard, long cock slipping down your throat.

Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks, spit and cum bubbling out of your mouth as he fucks your face. Steve leans up to watch you take him, his hips still grinding hard.

“Tha’s right, baby,” he slurs, pushing out heavy breaths, “You take my cock so good, baby. That’s s’good, sugar. That mouth is so fucking pretty around my cock.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at his praise, the stroking of your ego making your body clench. You keep your nails dug into his thighs as he fucks into your messy mouth, lips flushed red, swollen and slippery. Steve whines loud, his octave high, the sound bitten off and broken as he slams his head back on the pillow, his mouth falling open. His hips pulse as he nearly cries, your scalp burning as he grips your head and hair.

You fight the urge to touch yourself, wanting to keep the delicious ache with you throughout the day. Steve lifts his head to make eye contact with you again, his face strained and broken as he whimpers, “Fuck, I’m gonna co— ,” he groans, loud and drawn-out, “That mouth is perfect. Ugh, I’m gonna paint that pretty mouth with my cum, baby— ah!”

He freezes suddenly and then pushes his hips upward, pushing his rigid cock deep before he spills, your warm, rough, pink tongue helping to coax him. He slams his head back down on the pillow, chest and muscles tense hard as each pass of his orgasm grows stronger, his spurts long and hot.

When his hips stop thrusting, he softens into the mattress, his limbs damn near liquid. His eyes flutter as he drags in deep, ragged, audible breaths, each one shaky and wet. You clean him up with your tongue, bobbing your head again, gripping his hips as filthy little noises and sweet cries squeak out of his throat. His body jerking and jutting. Once you’re finished, you kiss his tummy and smile before pushing off the bed.

“Where you goin’?” he mumbles, reaching for you as move back into the bathroom, “Hey, come’re”

You spin around to wink at him before closing the door a little to finish getting ready for your day.

“That’s not fair,” he shouts, making you giggle, “Fuck.”

~~~

One Zoom meeting turns into two, turns into three and beyond. You jot down notes, shaking your head slightly in agreement as you grab your phone, calculating a few numbers before you recite them for the rest of the group. It’s kind of amazing how you all deal with millions of dollars like it’s absolutely nothing.

You’ve had your nose so stuck in your laptop and phone all morning, you haven’t had a chance to pay any attention to the tall blonde traipsing around the place, shooting you little looks and quick smiles as you work, in hopes to garner a glance. It hasn’t worked so far; until now that is, as he saunters out of the bedroom after his trip to the gym and a late shower, chest bare, grey sweats hanging low on his lips.

Water still beads on his shoulders, a few strays slipping down his pecs into the dark hair that covers his chest. You cut your eyes towards him and slide them with him as he moves into the dining area, watching as he bends over to pluck a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. He stands back tall, rolling his broad shoulders a bit before he tips his head and guzzles the cool liquid, Adam's apple bobbing.

“Hello? You still with us?”

You snap your eyes back towards your laptop, a smirking Natasha Romanov staring back at you, “Sorry, I think my, uh, connection got a little wonky,” you lie, sending your eyes quickly back towards the chuckling Steve, “What were you saying, Ms. Romanov?”

“Scott Lang, our other CEO is flying in next week from Chicago, he wants to set a meeting with you but was wondering if you could carve out sometime to call him beforehand. He just wants a run down of the numbers you’re proposing.”

“Sure, I’ll pencil him into my schedule later today, if that’s okay? Around three?”

Natasha taps on your phone, “Perfect, looks like he’s free. Mr. Prym also would like to see you and Mr. Parker again to go over the construction plans of the possible new building.”

“Okay,” you nod, turning your attention to your phone to text Peter, “I’ll get back to you whenever Peter shoots me his schedule. He’s kinda busy though, so it might not be until next week.”

“That’s alright.” she answers absentmindedly, “Clint? Do you have anything for her?”

“Nope, I’m good I think.” The short blonde says.

“Nick? Wanda?”

After a chorus of no’s, you all say your goodbyes before you end the call, returning to your notebook, forgetting all about the burly man stalking towards you. Your phone buzzes, and you grab it up, skimming over Peter’s text message before you respond quickly, setting up a quick call with him for the following day and asking him to share his calendar with you. A soft ding sounds from your computer and you’re immediately turning back towards it, bouncing slightly when a weight pushes into the couch next to you.

The taps of the keys on your keyboard are followed by the swoosh of your outbound email before you grab your pen and start scribbling again. A constantly buzzing phone, more taps, more swooshes, and your gentle, random hums are all sounds you’re used to; not so much your sudden roomie. He’s bored and slightly annoyed by your snubs all morning— also wanting a little payback for your shenanigans so early in the morning.

You haven’t even noticed that he’s now completely naked.

You lean up a little, squinting as you study the growth chart on your screen, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as your mind crunches the information. A gasp fills your chest as you’re lifted from your spot and settled right onto his lap. Before you can protest, he shimmies the short shorts covering your lower half down your thighs and over your knees, and pushes your white satin panties to the side.

Steve sweeps your box braids over your shoulder as the head of his cock pushes through your folds. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, that soft beard brushing against your jaw as he rocks his hips slowly, teasing your clit and opening with his dick. He grazes his fingers over your thighs before he cups your hot sex in his palm and uses his fingers to spread you open.

With a firm press, he slips inside of you, pushing until he bottoms out. He wiggles his hips, just so you can feel him moving inside of you before he grabs your laptop and places it back in your lap, “Don’t let me disturb you.”

You squirm on top of him, your hips rolling slightly as he starts to play with your clit, rubbing slow circles against your soft, wet skin. Your mind is blank as you stare at the computer screen, breath light and choppy, body tightening around his rigid cock. You want him to move, to thrust up into you real nice and slow while he thumbs and pulls at your nipple, breathing hot, hushed words into your ear. Trying to coax him, you wiggle again, pushing down onto him but he doesn’t relent— he just turns on the tv and settles back into the couch, throwing his arm over the back like you’re not even sitting on his dick right now.

He continues to rub your clit lazily, keeping his eyes on Sports Center as your body tenses every now and again, tiny, needy moans vibrating your vocal chords. You try to focus on the numbers and emails in front of you, but your mind is mush— a dull ache throbbing in the pit of your stomach, your teased clit starting to sting from his gentle pressure.

Natasha’s name flashes across your laptop, sending a sudden strike of fear through you, heart dropping to your feet, “Steve—”

“Answer it,” he says gently, “I’ll be quiet.”

“She’ll see you!” You hiss.

He just chuckles in return, “Not if you stay still, she won’t. Answer it.”

Your fingers tremble over the mouse pad, the arrow hovering over the accept button. Steve reaches around and taps the button before relaxing back into the couch, sinking lower into it as Natasha’s smiling face pops up on your screen.

“Hi,” she greets happily, her chin in her palm, a pair of red, thick rimmed glasses over her eyes, “Are you busy?”

“Um,” you start, clearing your throat as your voice quivers, “Not, um, not really. What’s, uh, what’s—” you grunt when Steve finally thrusts into you.

Natasha’s eyes squint as she tilts her head, “You okay?”

Smiling quickly, you nod, “Yeah, sorry. What’s up? Does Mr. Prym need something else from me?”

“Oh, no, this isn’t work related.” She laughs lightly, “We’ve missed each other in the office this past week, I was just wondering if you were doing okay, see how L.A. is treating you.”

Steve shifts underneath you, pushing his hips hard. You tense hard, muscles quivering around him as you dig your nails into his thigh, trying to muffle the squeak that rises in your throat.

“It’s great,” you strain— high pitched and shaky, “It’s um, I l-like it here.”

“Have you seen Steve lately?”

Your eyes widen when Steve snakes his free hand up to your chest, grabbing a handful of your left tit. You turn the laptop away from you quickly as Steve leans up, resting his chin on your shoulder, another deep rumble of laughter falling from his lips.

He centers the screen on the two of you again, kissing your shoulder as Natasha feins shock, “She’s seen quite a bit of me lately.”

Embarrassment flushes through you— heat rising in your cheeks, but Steve rolls his hips slowly and jossles you on his lap and you can’t help but sound, a wet little whimper as he thumbs your nipple underneath your shirt, “S-Steve.”

“It’s okay honey,” he whispers, kissing your jaw, his eyes cutting back towards the laptop as Natasha leans back in her chair, teeth dug into her bottom lip as a pretty pink blush blooms across her cheeks, “Little Natasha has a voyeur kink,” he pushes his mouth right next to your ear, his octave dropping, “She loves watching me fuck pretty girls like you,” he lifts your top up, exposing your see-through bra as he turns his attention back to the screen, “Don’t you, baby?”

“Are you fucking her right now?” Natasha breathes, her voice thick and deep, “I wanna see.”

Steve sets the laptop on the glass table in front of you, pushing it back until your lower halves are exposed— his cock rooted deep in your cunt. You hear Natasha groan, watch as she starts to drag the pads of her fingers across her chest as she sways gently back and forth in her swivel chair.

“Does she feel good, Steve?” She asks.

“Oh,” Steve purrs, lifting your bra slowly so your tits fall out one by one, bouncing softly, “She is so tight, Nat. So warm. You’d fall in love with this pussy.”

You fall back against his chest, turning your head slightly to nuzzle into the side of his face as he gropes your tits in his massive hands, squeezing hard as he pinches your nipples between his index fingers and thumbs. Languid thrusts start to push you up and down, the fingers on your pussy spreading you open for Natasha as she stands, wiggling her hips to hike her skirt up.

She sits back in her chair and lifts her left leg, resting her foot against the edge of her desk. Her thin fingers push through her slick, wet folds as she watches Steve fuck you slow, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. You open your eyes just enough to watch her unbutton her blouse, slipping her hand in to pull her left breast out, exposing her pierced, pink nipple.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan quick, before hissing as Steve pushes in and out, humming soft as he starts to let it go to his head, “You’ve been hiding those from me.”

“You can see them in person soon,” she purrs, her head falling back on the chair as she pushes two fingers into her cunt, “I can’t wait to feel your tongue on my tits.”

You tense at her words, Steve cursing as your muscles squeeze around him. He bites down on your shoulder as he starts to fuck into you faster. He rolls your nipples in his fingers as the sound of your skin slapping against his gets louder— sharper. Natasha blinks slowly through hooded eyes, her sweet mouth falling open as her hips buck, one hand slapping at her reddened clit and puffy, slick folds, the other pumping in her slit.

A shudder races up your spine— hips jerk unexpectedly, digging down into Steve’s, “Sugar’s getting close, Nat,” he breathes, sliding his hand back to your clit, “God, I wish you could feel how tight she’s squeezing me. Hear how wet she is?”

You should be embarrassed; how spread open you are, the wet, filthy squeaks and squishes of your cunt as he ruts into you. But watching Natasha as she fucks herself to you, hearing her mewl and curse, her fair, smooth skin blushing red while she loses herself. It’s all obscene. Sleazy; but that’s why you like it.

“Oh, make her come, Steve,” Natasha groans, her tongue slipping out to lick at her nipple, “I want to see that pussy quiver.”

Steve wraps his arm around your middle, holding you tight, breathing into your ear as his hips go into overdrive. He fucks into you fast and hard, bouncing you on his lap. He shoves his fingers into your mouth, hissing and groaning as you suck them. The sweet whimpers and whines of Natasha make you shiver, the sight of her hips thrashing and the sun glinting off of the diamond studded bar nipple rings accenting her perfect tits, send you right over the edge.

You throw your head back as your orgasm blooms, spreading through your veins like fire. You whail as you slam your eyes shut, Steve dropping his wet fingers to slap your cunt, teasing your clit as it jumps with contractions.

“Oh, God, yes,” Natasha pants, her fingers rubbing quick, hard circles against her clit, hips pulsing, “Yeah, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna... come, baby— you’re so fucking perfect, sweet girl.”

“You are perfect, honey,” Steve moans into your ear as wave after wave of your orgasm washes over you, “That tight pussy feels so good around me. So sweet— that’s why I call you honey.” He wraps his fingers around your neck, “You want me to come in her, Nat? Huh? You wanna see my hot cum spilling out of her?”

“Yes!” She cries, hunched over as she thrashes her hand back and forth, her mouth hanging, “Yes, Steve.”

As if on cue, he grunts deep, his cock jumping as he starts to spurt. He keeps a tight grip around your neck as he fucks hard with each spit, the hot ribbons coating your slick muscles. He pulls out of you unceremoniously, cantering your hips to give Natasha the full view of his silk dribbling out of you, your spasming, tight cunt pushing it out.

Natasha comes hard, her moans growing louder and higher as the coil finally snaps. Her tits tremble with the aftershocks, her hips jutting upward randomly as she creams. Her fingers slow as her eyes close, her head tilts back and resting against the back of her swivel chair as she licks her lips. Deep, smooth breathes swelling her chest as her hips come to rest.

Steve kisses you deep— tongue pushing into your wet warmth to massage the roof of your mouth. He sucks on your top lip, smacks on you loud as he palms your thighs before kneading gently. Smiling against his lips, you let your body go limp; melt right into his burly chest and stomach, his cock resting against your balmy, used, sticky cunt.

“Goodness, me,” Natasha purrs, a sated, soft smile on her lips, “That was sweet. We really need to get together now.” She laughs.

You giggle, pushing your fingers into Steve’s hair, “Steve let me work threesomes into his base price, so you’re welcome any time, babe.”

“Oh, he did, did he? That’s not fair Steven Grant, you nickel and dime the shit out of me.”

Steve shrugs, “What can I say, she’s a better business woman than you.”

“I can see that. I hate to come and run, but I need to freshen up. I have a meeting with Hank in a half hour. Maybe we can all have dinner Friday night?”

“I’ll make reservations. The restaurant in the hotel is fabulous.”

She winks, her lips curled in a smile, “Text me.”

The connection ends and you fall back into Steve’s chest, brushing your cheek against his, “Now that your debauchery has ended, can I get back to work now?” you laugh.

“Nope,” he answers quickly, slapping your laptop shut and lifting you with him as he stands, “It’s lunch time.”

“Steve,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you back into the bedroom, “I have so much to do. I’m waiting for the architect to call me back, I have a presentation I have to put together—”

“Numbers to crunch, businesses to buy, blah, blah, blah,” he drops you onto the mattress and grabs the menu from the nightstand before plopping down next to you, “They got sushi today, yummy.”

Work becomes an afterthought. You and Steve lay in your nakedness, eating slowly as you stare at each other, rogue fingers reaching out and sliding along hips and arms and tummies. Lingering blue eyes skip along your face and body, his deep laugh rattling every bone, every muscle, every vein you possess. He opens up a little more, talking aimlessly about he and Natasha’s friendship, how they met through his friend, and fellow escort Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky,” you lay on your back, leg bent at the knee as it sways back and forth slowly, Steve curled around you, “Even his name is kinky.”

He nuzzles into your neck, exhaling deep as he rests his eyes. His long arm is slung over your chest, legs tangled with yours, “He’s a good guy. I might let you meet him one day.”

“Might?”

“I don’t want him stealing you away from me.”

The words hang over you like a cloud. You blink slowly up at the ceiling as they, the words, swirl around you, filling your chest and head. Maybe you’re thinking too much into it, putting too much weight on them. He probably says this to all of his clients while in a post sex haze. You’re being silly, you don’t even know this man… but you want to.

That scares you.

After only a week, you don’t even recognize yourself anymore. What started out as just needing some company every now and again, has turned into looking forward to seeing him after work. Not being able to wait until you're across a dinner table from him, being squeezed against his body while in the tub, not wanting to pry yourself out of his arms in the morning. There was a time where you thought nothing of work— buying, selling, making money, climbing the corporate ladder— you ate and breathed your work.

Now?

All you want to do is eat sushi and nap the days away, with Steven Grant Rogers wrapped around you like a blanket.

~~~

Steve glances over his shoulder at your sleeping body as he sits on the edge of the bed. He stands slowly, running his hand through his hair as he moves towards the double doors and out onto the balcony. Night is falling over L.A., the sky dark as the moon and stars start to shine through. He leans over the concrete columns as he thumbs through his phone, casting his eyes out over the streets as he taps on a name.

“Steve,” a deep voice says, “Shit, I thought you died, man. Where have you been?”

“Sorry Buck, I’ve been with a client all week.”

“All week? Wow, big spender.”

“She’s from New York, in town on business.”

“That sounds fuckin’ awesome. Where are you?”

“The Waldorf Astoria, Presidential suite.” Steve turns, tilting his head as he watches you sleep.

“Oh, shit! You lucky bastard!”

Steve continues to stare at you, blinking slowly as you roll over onto your side, “You know, she hasn’t been out on the balcony once since she’s been here,” He says absentmindedly, nibbling on his bottom lip, “She’s afraid of heights.”

“O-kay?” Bucky chuckles as he draws out the word, slightly confused, “Why do you sound so sad? What’s going on?”

“I’m breaking rule number one.” Steve answers softly, dropping his head.

“Steve,” Bucky warns, his octave dropping.

“I don’t want her to go.” Steve answers softly, “I’m— fuck, I think I’m falling for her, Buck.”

~~~

Your phone vibrates softly against the couch, illuminating in the darkness as a text from Natasha slides in.

Good news! Hank’s ready to sign the deal first thing tomorrow morning!

[addisonmilfgomery]

hold on a minute because meredith sucking on addison's fingers truly is a SOMETHING to think about. addison busy at home, trying to get things done while meredith tries to distract her because she's so needy for her, addison shushing her away because she's gotta finish whatever it is that she's doing and she's not as weak as meredith thinks she is (lol sure) but then meredith gets way too close and stars kissing her neck and holding her tight against her frame and addison is slowly losing her self control, but she's still fighting through the seduction AND THEN meredith grabs one of her hands and addison knows and she kinda warns her "don't. i gotta finish this, meredith i'm serious" and meredith holds her gaze and then slowly she starts sucking on one and addison is GONE. she makes her suck on two of them while she angrily puts her against the table and...phew yeah yeah yeah

FUCK ANON DROP THE FIC. my brain went whoosh whoosh reading this lol finger sucking is my SHIT (hcs under the cut bec this uhhhh inspired me) 

meredith notices addison's hands way before they’re ever together. she's a meticulous surgeon and meredith always feels in awe watching her operate.

it obviously doesnt take long for her to realize that her appreciation goes far beyond just Addison's prowess with a scalpel and most definitely into the territory of wow her fingers would feel so good inside me

the first time she does it, addison has her in her lap and is fucking meredith with one hand while the other is grasping meredith's jaw. 

she brushes the tips of her fingers against meredith’s bottom lip and meredith’s instinctively licks the pads

she begins softly sucking at first but taking in the blush steadily forming down addison’s throat and chest, she takes them in deeper until she’s nearly choking and coming on addison’s hand between her legs 

addison immediately notices her fixation and begins making meredith suck her fingers to make them wet enough to fuck her like she deserves.

they both know meredith is already wet enough to barely feel a thing but it’s watching meredith’s eagerness to please for addison and the eroticism alone of the action for meredith that makes it so hot

sometimes addison has meredith on her knees, her hands behind her back because she isnt allowed to touch and take what she's given like a good fucking girl

“Can you stay quiet or should I make you?”

she says it so nonchalantly like she’s asking meredith what she wants for breakfast. 

and then meredith is on her stomach, splayed across addison’s lap with her ass bare as she shivers at what an obscene picture they must be making.

addison shoves four fingers into her mouth while her thumb presses against meredith’s jaw and makes her count each strike (or at least mumble the numbers incoherently in a way that makes her cheeks burn and cunt pulse harder)

and then there’s the thing that makes meredith feel filthy in the best way when addison pulls out her hand from between meredith’s legs and brings them to her lips 

“Go on then, clean up your mess.”

she obediently licks her hand, feeling herself get wet again as addison tells her what a messy little thing she is, what a good girl she is for cleaning it all up.

OKAY OFF TO DO MY HORNY JAIL TIME BYE 

[insufferablelust]

butterfly blurbs? maybe that's nor what you want but spencer getting jealous bc he finds out butterfly spends some time with one of his closest man but butterfly only wanted him to show her how to shoot so she could impress spencer?

Warnings ; smut, The use of ‘sir’ & ‘daddy’, Jealousy, overstimulation, Squirting, Tiny bit of degradation mainly by name calling, Possessiveness, Its.. um Filthy as many of you already know. Oh there’re fluffs like cute fluffs in the end, mention of sub/little space too. Please read at your own discretion. Set before chapter 2A of Lb!Au

MASTERLIST HERE.

gif credit to @imagining-in-the-margins thank you!

Being the don of the most powerful mafia chain around the country requires Spencer to have guards everywhere he goes, and those men are always there to protect you too. There are 4 of them; Your favorite is Morgan, the friendliest and warmest of them all, but definitely the flirtiest— in more than one occasion, Spencer had to threaten his gurard, or more like his best pal to stop looking at you the wrong way, then there’s Hotch, which is the lead command of his men, the one who controls the way around, his right hand almost, He doesn’t talk a lot you reckoned, though you rarely see him. There’s Alvez, whom you are second closest to, he’s pretty funny at times and definitely warm, and the last one is Simmons though you only met him in several occasions, seeing how he was always the one that Spencer commands to run his ‘business’ outside of town.

The 4 of them are all loyal to the don and the famiglia, has been since many generations of fathers and their fathers. When you came into the picture, you didn’t expect that someone is going to be guarding you every time you go outside or to leave for work or study— but Spencer insisted one of his men will always be assigned to watch over you, seeing that the threats of being closer to him might bring you harm. They’re always close by but not super close where you might feel stalked or ‘guarded’

It was nice to have someone to look after you, and the man he always choose to be close by you is none other than Morgan, your favorite out of all of them, you knew why Spencer insisted that Morgan was the one who will tend to your every need (security wise) even going as far as renting him an apartment suite not far from where yours are, just incase.

You grew close to Morgan, practically seeing him as your older brother, on nights where Spencer might not coming back to your place because of his ‘unexpected’ business, you always asked Morgan to accompany you play board games or watch something on your half functioning TV, or to just simply be there to have a chat with you. He’s nice and he makes you feel like you knew Spencer, told you small things about your boyf— sugar daddy. Now knowing that Morgan knows a lot, practically everything about the don, young Y/N just wanted to impress him— cause he had been so good to her all week, so so good, taking care of her and spoil her to the limits. So she asks Morgan on what could impress the infamous don of the country.

Y/N couldn’t lie that when she heard Morgan proposed the idea of shooting, that excitement would run through her veins like something has been injected— she has seen Spencer shoot his gun once or twice, she knew he could kill someone so so easily without batting an eyelash, he injured a guy whom looked at her the wrong way once for fuck’s sake. So the idea was enough to make her all giddy and say, “Please Morgan! teach me!” which he couldn’t help but to say yes, now he knows the protocols, knows how his best friend is so he didn’t worry about him having any sorts of problems with him teaching her but what he didn’t expect was, Spencer Reid might have a deeper feeling towards the tiny butterfly.

—

Hey daddy,

i’m going to spend some time with Morgan today, i hope you don’t mind if i don’t send an update so frequently but i’ll try okay? be safe, Mwah!

Spencer tried to calm down from his sudden bubbling anger that rose inside his chest, the voicemail had been left on his brick phone two hours prior and she still hasn’t responded yet. Being away from her is torture from him, he wanted so so badly to bring her here whilst he has business to deal with in Chicago— but he knew it’d be dangerous.

Though, hearing her heavenly voice sets his chest aflame with combined mixture of Jealousy and Longing, longing for her— missing her to the core and wanting so so bad to show her that she’s his and his only. Spencer knows he’s being irrational but he couldn’t help to think that his little Butterfly is spending too much— an awful amount of time with her bodyguard, his most trusted man amongst others.

With a lit of his cigarette and ruffle of his hair, Spencer made a quick call to Hotch to prepare for leaving, cause he’s going back home— for her.

-

She didn’t expect this when she came home from her practice that night, she didn’t expect him to be here so so early. a day early from his supposed come back schedule. Here he was, sitting on a chair in the dark corner of your bedroom with his thighs spread, and his fingers interlaced with each other, and a glass of wine sitting atop of the bed side table.

“D-Daddy.. i thought you won’t be home until—“ you started yet immediately cut off by the sound of his voice shushing you, “Shh, Come here. Sit on my lap.” He demonstrated by patting his thighs so you know not to fuck with him, not to act up. You muttered a small “yes daddy” before setting down your purse and padded towards where he is, about to straddle his lap before he let out a disappointment-like sigh then turns you around so you’re sitting down on his lap with your back against his front and his hand wrapped snuggly around your throat.

Oh whatever you’ve done must be terrible, and you would be lying to say that it doesn’t excites you one bit cause it certainly does.

“You look pretty tonight, butterfly.” He whispered softly against your ear as his other hand slithered their way around her waist to wrap them tightly so she’d have nowhere to go, “T-Thank you daddy.” She muttered, feeling so small all of a sudden, not knowing what she has done wrong and what should she say to make it better.

“Daddy i—“

“Y’know your daddy is a busy man, don’t you, bunny?” His voice tsk’d you, making you squirm on his lap, as his palm slithered down down down between your legs and rub toward your inner thighs. “Yes daddy..” You muttered, only gasping momentarily as his fingers slip inside your legging and let it rest on top of where your panties beginning to dampen.

“And yet here you are, making daddy cancel his plans just to come back and remind you.” His voice gets a little rougher now as he slaps your cunt softly, a warning perhaps so you’d stay still and listen to him. You let out a confused yet pleasure filled mewls as he slap your by-now swollen and sensitive covered pearl several times, “Daddy! please i-i don’t know what you mean.. oh!”

“D’you know who’s this cunt belongs to?” He whispered roughly before biting on the shell of her ear where she arched her back when he pressed his palm— grazing against her clit side to side, “Y-You! it belongs to you! mmh!” Your moans are cut out by the tightening grip of his hand on your throat as he snap the waistband of your panties before tearing the whole thing with your leggings down your legs.

“And who’s this body belongs to hm? who do you fuckin belongs to, butterfly?” His thumb made a quick work over your sensitive button as he rub it all fast and rough, causing you to squirm and let out spews of moans and screams at the feeling of pleasure. Somewhere alongside the pleasure, your brain was able to make a sense of why he’s here, and you can’t help but to feel all the butterflies that swarmed on your belly.

The don is jealous over his best friend.

“Daddy i— oh! i— Morgan was only helping me!” She tried to blurted out, as his thumb quicken its pace on her clit, up and down, side to side whilst his other hands played with her swollen shirt covered nipples, all sensitive and reactive to his sinful touches. Spencer lets out a growl, “Helpin you with what hm? is it that important that he has to take you way from me?”

Butterflies, your heart warmed.

“He— oh god.. i w-wanted to oh! learn how to shoot so i ask him.. mmh fuck daddy! ask him to help me so you’d be proud of me!” Tears streamed down your face by now, not because of his words but because of how close she is, god the way his fingers slip inside her slit so easily now that she’s wet— drenched, combined with his palm on her clit and her overstimulated nipples causing her to the edge.

“Is that so, princess?” He hummed as he lean back so he could tilt your head back to see your eyes, gleamed under the moonlight and glazed over with needs— “Yes daddy.. i s-swear—oh god i’m going to cum.” Your fingers were gripped tightly onto his wrist as his fingers works even faster and faster— making squelching noises throughout the room.

“Little minx, trying to make me all proud hm? My butterfly is so fucking adorable isnt she?” Spencer was close to coming inside his pants himself, seeing her like this brought him to the fucking heaven but hearing how she wanted to train because she wants him to be proud of her brought him to the fucking edge of orgasm— that he didn’t even care if hes going to cream his pants like a damn teenager.

“Yes yes yes daddy! just for you! please let me cum!”

with a hard and quick thrust of his fingers inside you, he mumbled deeply and breathlessly, “Cum now, pup. Show everyone that you’re fucking mine, cum for daddy— thats fucking it.” He growled and growled, as you let an earth shattering scream which you had no doubt that your neighbors would be able to hear it, before squirting all over his hand, his suit, everything.

“Thank you oh! daddy thank you!” You sobbed and trembled as you both coming down from your highs, Spencer presses small kisses all along the side of your face. “Good girl, ‘m so proud of you, my little butterfly. Gonna show me tomorrow what y’learned okay?” He mumbled gently as you weakly turned around to give him a kiss.

“Yes daddy, welcome home.”

—

LITTLE BUTTERFLY TAGLIST;

@bloodstainedsarsaparilla​ @drabigailreidblog​ @mgg-theprettiestboy​ @vanessagub​ @reidsconverse​ @maybankslut​ @pastathighs​ @geniusgub @90spumkin​ @trina2323​ @70sreid @blxckhearthood​ @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian​ @baby-pogue​ @sluttytears​ @187-reid @gubler2323 @flawlesslyexecuted @iamgonnaleaveroach @libidinexx @reidsbbg @dancestargia @agentadhd

{Message or comment if you wanna be tagged or removed! thank you for your support}

[oars]

MY PAD STILL ISNT FAR UP ENOUGH WTF 😡

[kurosukii]

Jul he was def written by a Horny watt pad user cause the shit he would say to me and the stunts he would pull were things I had never imagined

yes he does have some dentist friends if anyone is interested but they’re not dilfs sadly:(

he Did brazy stuff like that all the time completely uncalled for his son would stay with his sister because he felt he needed more of an authority female presence in his sons life so when his son was gone for a weekend we would go crazy. I don’t think there is a surface or area in his home outside of his sons room that we didn’t do something nasty on

on top of his insane breeding kink this man had the libido and stamina to keep up w freshly dirty me who had a million scenarios in my head after he unlocked that side i didn’t know existed

but funny story of how I met his sister and to this day when I see her I get embarrassed

so he had told her abt me obvI but she didn’t know abt the age difference just that he had met someone who worked at a grocery store he frequented and we were going on dates. so flash foreward his son is out the house (also this was b4 we were comfy enough to try n fuck in his place of business the timeline of events will never make sense)

We were cuddling and watching a movie in the living room and I started to get h word and im telling u this man never wore an outfit that wouldn’t provoke me to take his pants off so ofc he was shirtless and wearing light grey sweatpants material shorts… yk whats gonna happen were halfway thru an episode of a show and I lay my head in his lap n I’m just nuzzling against his dick bcs I’m a shy bitch who didn’t want to directly ask for it

n eventually he pauses the show n is like “is there something you want?“ n I look up at him w pls fuck me eyes so he moves me to be sitting on his lap but more so straddling his thigh, at this point he can’t hide his semi n just starts kissing me w the most passion

at this point in our relationship I was focusing on learning how to suck his dick, which was a struggle for me w breathing but I loved doing it, i start kissing his neck and grinding against him and he goes to put his hand in my pants n i shuffle back a little he goes “don’t be shy now you already started something”

i just blurt out “can you fuck my mouth” BITCH(if ur okay w me calling you bitch) if someone could have literal hearts in their eyes he had them, that look is still stuck in my memory like it’s priceless art

somehow I can’t remember the sequence of events but I’m on my knees in front of the couch and he let me start off on my own just to see how far I could go, as I said he is vv thick so it usually cause some pain in the corners of my lips but I keep going and he rested his hand on the back of my head “you’re doing so well bunny” (again w the side notes he called me bunny so much his son thought it was my name for a solid two weeks) he got the nickname from that hot freaks song, anyways started pushing my head down just a little until I was nose to his pelvis gagging all over him and he just starts laughing, so ofc i pull off and get pouty so he apologizes for laughing staring “it’s just cute seeing you struggle“

so we start back n atp he is standing up fully naked I’m also Fully naked just hips a thrusting the most lewd noises coming front my throat as he breaks my fuckin uvula and he like I said is very vocal so u can only imagine the noises this man was saying

at this point I start struggling to breathe I’m tearing up and he is being so cocky abt it and asking so many questions knowing i can’t answer

again dialogue

*SPIT COATED BALLS SLAPPING MY FACE NOISES*

“you like being on your knees for me huh?” “I think you look extra good like this, just want me to fuck your mouth till u can’t speak”

“mmhm or would you like it better if I made you scream till you lost your voice”

and as he got closer

“that’s right just take it“

“doing so good baby throats so tight(started rubbing the column of my throat) can you feel me all the way down there“

now at this point I’m a literal mess

and we hear his front door slam and immediately both ducked down on the floor and his sister comes in saying his name Bcs where the fuck r u at ur cars here

and we both look at eachother w the “oh shit, oh fuck” look so he just gets up on the couch and peeks his head over and she’s standing between the living room and hallway and is like ??? Look on her face and he just starts shouting “don’t come over here I’m fully naked give me a minute please“ and doubles over laughing and I could hear her yell to the kids “go play outside for a minute“

she walks out of view and we sprint to his bedroom and I’m so embarrassed at this point we get dressed in a flash and I’m destroyed and he just doesn’t tell me makeup smeared my lip clearly look like I’ve been sucking dick and he just walks us out and introduces me to her, she didn’t say anything out the way but I knew she knew Bcs the look she gave me when she first saw me

its sad this isnt top 10 embarrassing things to happen to me

also sorry this is so long I send these as I remember the moments -🐶

yooooo this story was an entire rollercoaster ,,,, all i can say is holy shit 🧿_🧿

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 32

A/N: Another ‘friend’ of ours makes an appearance in this chapter (unfortunately for me lmao)

August 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was as prepared as she could be for Game 1 against the Columbus Blue Jackets.  

Scotiabank Arena was freezing – more freezing than normal – because of the three-games-a-day and all the hockey being played.  She knew the players and team personnel would complain if the ice was crap (apparently they could tell, though it beat the shit out of her how they could tell), and of course Scotiabank Arena, and the Leafs in general, wanted to make an excellent impression.  They were the centre of the hockey world, so Aberdeen knew they could pull it off.  It just didn’t help that it was August and it felt like early November indoors.

She joined Brendan and Kyle in their usual box – luckily they didn’t have to give that up.  The team was taking their pre-game skate below and Aberdeen watched as William shot pucks towards Freddie in the net, sneaking one past him before skating around their perimeter of the rink a few times.  On the other side of the ice, the Columbus Blue Jackets were doing the exact same thing, though she barely knew or recognized a soul on the team.  One of them could walk by her in the arena and she wouldn’t know better.  

“How do you think it’s gonna go?” Brendan asked from six feet away from her, his black mask covering his face.

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  “You should stop asking me these questions, Brendan.  I know nothing about hockey.”

“That may be,” he said, not letting up, “but you know the boys, on a level far superior than your knowledge of hockey.  So what do you say?”

Aberdeen thought about it.  She knew them on a personal level, but that didn’t matter at all – at least she didn’t think it mattered – when it came to a playoff game.  She knew how much pressure the guys were under.  She also knew that they were still adjusting to the bubble life and how weird everything was.  Make no mistake – they were being taken care of exceptionally well by the staff at the Royal York Hotel, and Aberdeen made sure she said a loud thank you to every worker she came across and interacted with.  She heard every single one of the guys do the exact same thing.  But she didn’t know how that would translate into a hockey game.  They were two different things.  They were to different entities that she had no idea how to join together.  

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, her voice soft.  “When you ask me these questions, I feel like you want me to be Nostradamus or something.  What if I said they were going to lose 2-0?”

“I’d believe you,” Brendan shrugged.

***

The Leafs lost 2-0.

“C’mon Nostradamus,” Brendan said as he packed up his clipboard and tucked it under his arm.  “The social media posts can wait.  You need to go mediate the post-game interviews and press calls.”

Aberdeen packed up her iPad after she rolled her eyes.  She shouldn’t have said anything.  She should have responded ‘They’re going to win 5-0!’ the first time he ever asked her that question and kept that answer throughout the entire season.  She followed six feet behind Kyle, who was in turn six feet behind Brendan, as they made their way to the locker room.  By the time they got there, Sheldon was nearing the end of his post-game speech.  Most of the guys were half undressed – at least at the top – and a few of them were shoving off their elbow pads and chucking their tape from their socks into the bins.  They all looked irritated.  

She made her way into the media room and set up the Zoom call where a bunch of reporters joined.  Morgan and Auston walked into the room, and she quickly typed in the chat which players were there so they could organize their questions accordingly.  Morgan and Auston sat down in their chairs.  

“Is Steve on the call?” Auston asked suddenly while Aberdeen was adjusting the camera.

“Uh, yeah.  Why?” she asked.

Auston pursed his lips together and shrugged it off.  

The interviews were going fine.  She hated hearing the sound of her own voice on recordings but she knew she’d have to suck it up for the sake of the media call.  She called on each reporter by name.  The boys answered their questions.  It was all very routine.  

“Steve Simmons from the Toronto Sun,” Aberdeen called out.  She waited, and while waiting, she saw Morgan’s and Auston’s demeanour completely change.  

“Uhhh, Steve Simmons, Toronto Sun for Auston – it’s one thing to hear about how tight they play, and to even watch the films of how tight they play.  What was it like to experience it?”

Auston took the lead.  “Uh, well I mean first of all, it’s unfortunate that I’mn getting a question from you at this point, Steve, but I just wanted to say I didn’t really appreciate the article you wrote about me a couple months ago.  I thought, uh, it was very unethical to be honest, but…uh, moving along…”

Aberdeen didn’t hear the rest of his answer.  Truthfully, she didn’t care.  All she could feel was a burning sensation shooting up her spine at Auston’s words.  He did it.  He called out Steve Simmons, the most annoying reporter known to mankind.  

She smirked.

***

After the media interviews, Aberdeen found a quiet space and took out her iPad again to post the final score graphic to the team’s Instagram page.  As she finished typing the caption – ‘Battled hard.  Back at it on Tuesday.’ – she heard some fairly loud footsteps behind her before they stopped.  “A girl?” a voice from behind her said.

She didn’t recognize it – and it wasn’t like anybody from the team would refer to her as “a girl” – so she furrowed her brows and turned around.  She saw what had to be a member of the Columbus Blue Jackets staring at her.  She couldn’t see it, but she automatically knew from the way he was standing and the energy he gave off that he was smirking smugly underneath his mask.  “Yeah, we exist,” she shot him a look, not ready to take any bullshit from him or anybody else.  The way these men thought she was a complete novelty astounded her.  “Have you never seen one of us before?”

“So Barzy was right,” the man continued.  “The Leafs have a girl in their bubble.  Incredible.”

Aberdeen could tell by the way he said and emphasized girl that this conversation – if you could call it that – was gonna be a doozy.  The guy was huge but didn’t look any older than she was, so she knew she would be able to put him in his place.  “What are you even doing in this hallway?  You’re not supposed to be on this side,” she said sternly.  “I suggest you leave and go back to your area of the arena unless you want me to complain to the NHL that your breaching protocol.”

From the very end of the hallway, another figure walked by, stopping at the gap when he apparently found who he was looking for.  Aberdeen could at least recognize him – John Tortorella, the head coach of the Columbus Blue Jackets.  “Pierre, what the fuck are you doing there?  Come on, we gotta go.”

The man, named Pierre, gave Aberdeen a smoldering look.  She rolled her eyes.  “Must have taken a wrong turn,” he said, loud enough so John would hear.

Dead set on not taking any bullshit, and just really, really wanting to put this guy in his place, Aberdeen didn’t let up.  “Perhaps you should remind Pierre of how to speak to the staff of another NHL team,” she said sternly.  Both men were too far away to notice how red she was getting, but she could see Pierre whip his head to look at her and his eyes go wide in shock.  “And perhaps he should read another copy of the social distancing and bubble protocols tonight in his bedroom so he doesn’t make this unfortunate decision again,” she said, deliberately using ‘decision’ instead of ‘mistake’, because she fucking knew this was no mistake.  She wondered what other rumours were swirling in the Royal York about a girl being in the Leafs bubble.  

Pierre scurried to the end of the hallway.  From her spot, she could hear John chuckle.  “You must be the Aberdeen Bloom I’ve only ever heard good things about,” he said.  “Keep it up.  I might ask you to take my place to keep the boys in line.”

She couldn’t help but smile.  Pierre took one last look between his coach and ‘the girl’.  “I could take ‘em,” Aberdeen commented, getting a nod from John before he and Pierre disappeared.  

She let out a breath.  

***

After the team got back to the hotel, picked up their pre-packaged dinner, and settled into their rooms, Aberdeen showered and changed.  She sat at the desk where she put the meal and took out her phone.  She sent some quick texts to her parents, Siena, and Camden before bringing up William’s name.

U up?

lmao minskatt isnt that what i should be saying to u *wink emoji*

Do you want to eat dinner together?

of course

I’m ready whenever you are babe

She waited for him to start the call.  Not even two minutes later, her phone began to ring and “Head Empty” flashed across the screen.  She accepted the FaceTime call almost immediately.  When it connected and he appeared on her screen, walking in his hotel room with his bathrobe on and his hair wet and tied back, she smiled.  “Hi.”

“Hi minskatt,” he said, his voice low.  She watched as he put a pair of headphones on.  “That’s better.”

Hers were already in.  “I’m sorry about the game tonight,” she said, perching her phone on a high point on the desk.  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

He shrugged.  “Not really.  At least, not right now,” he said, putting his phone down too.  “Maybe later.  Like, after we have dinner.”

“Promise me we will.”

“I promise,” he said, looking into the phone.  He knew she would want him to talk about it, and he made her a promise all those months ago.  He would never break it.  “Right now I just want to have dinner over FaceTime with my girlfriend even though we’re less than fifty feet away from each other.”

Aberdeen chuckled, if only because she agreed wholeheartedly that this whole thing was ridiculous.  The tone of William’s voice made her know that he thought it completely ridiculous too.  “It’s hard.  I know.  At least we get free food,” she held up a forkful of the marinated chicken breast.  “And good food.  It’s not like it’s airplane food.”

William smiled slightly.  “First thing I do when we get out of here is bring you to Canoe or Ardo or Miku and splurge on every meal they have on the menu,” he said.  

“Sounds good to me.  Maybe by then I’ll have a new job to celebrate, anyway.”

“How’s the article coming along?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said.  She’s started in the other day and already had about 1500 words worth of material.  She figured the best way to go about it was keep a sort of diary every day and then edit it down when she could.  “Might talk about how fucking awkward you hockey boys are these days with women.”

“I’m excluded from that, right?” he asked.  “I mean, I totally swept you off your feet when we first met.”

She couldn’t help but smile.  “You did.”

***

August 3rd, 2020

Aberdeen accompanied the team to one of the workout facilities just so she could catch a glimpse of sone sunshine on the day off.  Instead of working out, she sat on the sidelines of where all the equipment was and the boys worked out, furiously typing away on her personal laptop.  Every so often when she’d glance up, she’d see Morgan’s thighs almost ripping through his shorts as he did some lunges; she’d see Auston’s biceps almost bursting through his sleeves as he lifted weights above his head; she’d see William’s thick torso exposed as his shirt rode up from him throwing a heavy medicine ball above his head.  

A million girls in this city would kill her to be in her position.

And here she was, writing 10,000 words about them instead of ogling them.  Well, everyone except her secret boyfriend.

***

August 4th, 2020

Game 2.  

Aberdeen was confident that the boys would respond to Columbus’s win in Game 1.  She could tell in their energy throughout the day and in the arena they were ready and they were ready to win.  

“Hey Nostradamus,” Brendan called out, winking.  Aberdeen saw Kyle chuckle from behind his mask.  “What’s the score gonna be?”

“Oh shut it,” she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking to herself.  Except she couldn’t hold her tongue.  “3-0, but this time for us.”

“I believe her!” Kyle piped up.  

Brendan snorted.  “Who’s placing bets?!”

The bell rang and everybody settled down to stand for the anthem.  As the game got underway, Aberdeen could feel rushes of electricity move up her spine every time the Leafs touched the puck.  They were playing phenomenally.  They looked focused, into it, and like a complete team.  It was a night and day difference from Game 1.  Though the first period didn’t have any goals, Aberdeen knew they’d be coming – for the Leafs only.

In the second period Auston scored and Aberdeen jumped out of her seat to celebrate.  And when John scored late in the third period to get a two goal lead, she was even happier.  

Then, with less than two minutes left, disaster hit.  

It was a play behind the net.  Pierre Luc Dubois – the guy from the other day, Aberdeen had learned – basically cross-checked Jake Muzzin, and Jake fell awkwardly, trying to break it, with his head hitting a Blue Jackets player’s leg.  He fell to the ice.  

He wasn’t getting up.  And the referee hadn’t blown the whistle.  

Those fuckers.

“BLOW THE FUCKING WHISTLE!!!” Aberdeen screamed at the top of her lungs, startling Brendan and Kyle.  Her face was turning red.  She was sure she’d been so loud the referee actually heard her, because he finally blew it.  Jake was having a hard time getting up, and then he lay back down.  One of the trainers immediately made his way onto the ice, rushing towards Jake.

The replays began to play from every angle, and Aberdeen watched on the TV screen in the box how his head and neck contorted once he hit the player’s thigh.  She had tears in her eyes as she watched the worst angles.  She looked back out onto the ice to see Jake still lying there.  The trainer was still with him, though more were making their way onto the ice now.  Then, she saw one of the trainers put his hands near Jake’s neck.  They called for a stretcher.  

She bolted out of her seat.

“Aberdeen!” she could hear Brendan call out after her, but she didn’t listen.  She didn’t turn around.  She hurried down to ice level, her mind running a mile a minute, and flashed her credentials to anyone and everyone she needed to, not bothering to stop so they could actually see them.  

By the time she got to ice level, she could hear the distant sound of sticks tapping, letting her know he was being stretched off.  She met all the trainers and the stretcher at the entrance.  “Jake?!” she asked frantically.  

“Aberdeen?” he asked.  

“Are you okay?  Did you break your neck?!”

“I didn’t break my neck.  I can feel my arms and legs,” he said.  Aberdeen let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding in.  “Did it look scary?”

“Is that a joke?” she asked.  “I ran down here the second they called for the stretcher.”

“We’re going to take him to the hospital.  He’s going to have to leave the bubble,” the head trainer informed Aberdeen.  “You need to tell Brendan and Kyle.  Then update us on the protocol of what it will take to get him back into the hotel.”

Before she could acknowledge what was just said, Jake spoke up again.  “Aberdeen?”

“Yeah Jake?”

“You need to call Courtney for me.  Tell her I’m okay,” he said.  “She’s probably worried sick.”

Aberdeen’s heart sunk into her stomach.  Courtney.  “Yeah yeah, of course—”

“—You have her number, right—”

“—We really need to get him to the hospital—”

“—Yeah, I have her number—”

“—Call Courtney, please,” were Jake’s last words before he was stretchered off.

Aberdeen watched until they were out of her line of sight.  For a few moments, the images of what just happened flashed through her mind, and she momentarily forgot about everything.  She felt sick to her stomach.  Jake said he felt okay, but she knew hockey players always just said that.  Morgan had been playing injured for the better part of the year until he actually got injured.  High sticks to the face, lost teeth, blood drawn – these guys just put a bandaid on it and said they were fine.  But this was different.  

When Courtney’s face crossed her mind, she jolted back to life and grabbed her phone out of her pocket, scrolling until she found Courtney’s number.  The phone didn’t even have to ring twice.  “Aberdeen?!” she asked frantically.  “How’s Jake?”

“Hey Court—he’s okay—”

“He’s okay?!”

“Well, they’re bringing him to the hospital right now,” she said.  “But I was able to talk to him because I rushed down to ice level and he told me he was fine and to call you.”

“So you—you were able to talk to him,” Courtney said, her voice much calmer than just moments before.  “You saw him?”

“Yes.  He told me he could move his arms and legs,” Aberdeen informed her.

“Okay.  Okay.  Does that mean he has to leave the bubble though?  I mean can I go visit him?”

Aberdeen cringed.  “I don’t think so,” she said.  As she did, she could hear Luna being fussy in the background and Courtney trying to calm her.  “The NHL has an agreement with Toronto General about potential injuries.  If everything is okay and he comes back into the bubble, all he has to do is pass three negative tests,” she explained, listening to Luna get even fussier.  

“Okay.  Alright.  But they’ll call me, right?”

“Absolutely.  I’m sure Jake will even be able to call you from the hospital.  Our trainers all have their phones on them.”

“Thanks Aberdeen,” Courtney said, and Aberdeen could hear the relief in her voice.  She knew all Courtney wanted was to hear from her husband.  Luna let out a loud cry.  “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye Court,” Aberdeen ended the call.  

Families.  So many of them had families.  So many of them had families that were suffering and making do with a prolonged absence and Aberdeen couldn’t take it.  The players were sacrificing so much to be in the bubble.  And their families were sacrificing so much letting them go into the bubble.  She knew most of them had money – to cope, to do whatever, really – but that didn’t compensate for presence.  That didn’t compensate for having daddy around to play and snuggle with.  

She began to cry as she found herself walking towards the locker room, not even knowing whether or not the game had ended.  She didn’t really care at this point.  All she could think about was Courtney and Luna at home, worrying about Jake as he was being taken to the hospital.  To Aberdeen, nothing else mattered right now.  

She heard some commotion from the locker room and she knew the boys were back in.  She didn’t know how long they’d been back for, and didn’t bother to peek in to see.  She didn’t want to when her eyes were still red and welling up with tears.  Instead, she hid herself around a corner, crouching down with her knees against her chest, wiping at her eyes every so often and trying to control her emotions before having to go in, or getting called by Brendan, or by Kyle, or—

“There you are.”

Well, so much for that.

She looked up from her crouched position and saw Jason looking down at her.  He wasn’t completely undressed – he had all his UnderArmour on – but he was still sweaty from the game and his hair was matted against his head.  She wiped her eyes one last time before getting up.  “Hi.”

“Did you see Jake?”

She nodded.  “He’s okay.  He can feel and move his arms and legs or whatever.”

“Why are you crying?”

She knew he wasn’t asking to be insolent, but did she really have to have to spell it out for him?  “Don’t tell me you’re immune to this shit,” she said.  “I just had to call Courtney and explain to her that her husband didn’t break his neck and end his God damn career.  Luna was crying in the background.  It’s a lot, okay?”

Jason nodded his head.  “I know it is.  I’m not trying to…fuck, I know that came out wrong.  He’s gonna be okay, Aberdeen.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Aberdeen,” he said soothingly.  “It’s gonna be okay.”

She shook her head, wiping away the last of her tears.  “I know.  I’m just being a big baby.”

“No you’re not,” Jason said.  “You’re not being a big baby.  You’re being a human being.  Someone you cared about got hurt.  Do you want to talk about it when you get back to the hotel?” he asked.

She considered it for only half a second before she shook her head.  “No.  I know you call your girls every night.  I can’t take time away from them.”

“Aberdeen—”

“I’ll be okay,” she asserted.  “I promise.  I’ll be okay.”

“Aberdeen!” Kyle’s voice suddenly called out.  He rushed towards her with his phone in his hand.  “They took him to the hospital, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head, trying to steady her voice and make it seem as professional as possible.  “He’s technically left the bubble, so we have to update the trainers on protocol to get him back into the hotel and how—”

“I’ll handle that with Brendan and Josh,” he interrupted.  “But he was okay?”

“He could feel his arms and legs.  That’s what he told me.  Then he asked me to call Courtney and I did that.”

Kyle nodded his head, looking – really looking – at Aberdeen for the first time in their conversation.  “Were you crying?”

“I’m going to be fine,” was all she said.  

***

“I’m going to come to your room,” William said through the phone in a strained voice.

“Don’t you dare,” Aberdeen chastised him, a new batch of tears having fallen down her face as she lay in bed.  “Don’t you even think about leaving your room, William.”

“Aberdeen, you need me and I need to be with you right now—”

“And you need to stay in your room so you don’t get kicked out of the bubble,” she said sternly.  “I’m being serious, Will.  Don’t come over.”

She watched as he bit his lip and shook his head.  She could see all over his face how conflicted he was.  It was one of the things she loved most about him – to the world, he seemed cool and unemotional and that he didn’t really care about anything or take anything too seriously, but to her, he was the entire range of emotions in one conversation.  He had a heart full of gold and she knew it would always stay that way.  “This is killing me, minskatt,” he whispered, his voice defeated.  “I want to be there for you when you need me.  Always.  I mean…you need me, right?”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.  She didn’t know where this was coming from, but like some things with William, she felt like it was something that had been on his mind for a while and was only letting out now.  He was still learning to talk to her about his feelings.  He was keeping his promise from February, so she could appreciate that.  “Of course I need you,” she said softly.  “I’ll always need you like you need me.  We’re in this together.  You know that.  But you need to be on this team right now.  You need to help them fight.  This isn’t about me.  It’s about the team.”

“It’s always about you,” William said.  “You still don’t get it, do you?  It’s always about you.”

“Don’t make it about me right now, Willy.  It’s not about me.  It’s about Jake, and the team,” she paused for dramatic effect.  “Make it about me later,” she added, trying to be humourous.

It garnered a small smile from him, and she felt proud of herself.  “I love you, minskatt.”

“I love you too Willy.  Promise me you’ll get some sleep?”

He nodded slightly.  “I promise.”

***

Aberdeen’s iPhone was still in her hands as she woke again from its vibrations.  She jumped at the sensation of being awoken in the middle of the night.  If it was Willy calling her at three in the morning, she was gonna kill him.  

“Hello?” her voice was groggy.

The voice on the other end was not William’s.  “I lived, bitch.”  

***

August 6th, 2020

It wouldn’t be a Toronto Maple Leafs series without some drama, apparently.  And the drama tonight was how the team blew a 3-0 lead, allowing the Columbus Blue Jackets to win 4-3 in overtime, with Pierre-Luc Dubois scoring a hattrick.  That meant the Columbus Blue Jackets were now up 2-1 in the series.

It meant the Leafs could go home tomorrow.

Aberdeen tried not to think about it.  

She didn’t bring it up with anybody as they went back to the hotel, and she knew, judging by the looks on their faces, that they didn’t want to hear about it either.  Nobody would be turning on their TVs tonight, and she doubted they would check the news on their phones, either.  Maybe they’d play video games to take their minds off of it.  Or maybe they’d go right to bed and rest, since they had to do all of this again in less than 24 hours.  Fuck.

Aberdeen took a shower.  She washed her face.  She did her skincare.  She put on a sheetmask.  

Her phone rang.

She knew it was William, so she tucked herself into bed and accepted the FaceTime call.  When he realized that she had a sheetmask on, a smile broke out on his face from ear to ear.  “Nice sheetmask,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

She smiled cheekily and shrugged her shoulders.  “You’re used to it by now.  Shouldn’t come as much of a surprise,” she said.

“I am used to it by now and—oh shit, hold on, I forgot something…” he said, trailing off as he set his phone down so Aberdeen could only see the ceiling in his room.  Knowing William, he probably forgot to turn the light off in the bathroom or something.  But the longer he took, the more Aberdeen became skeptical of his whereabouts.  She barely heard anything on the other end.  “There we are…” she heard his voice.  And then she saw what he had on his face: a sheetmask.  He was still smiling from ear to ear.  “Now where were we?” he asked.

“William!” Aberdeen squealed, letting out giggles she couldn’t hold in at the sight of him.  He looked ridiculous.  It was clearly the first time he’d ever put one on himself.  “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“You love these things!” he tried to justify himself.  “I brought one because I knew I’d catch you at least once in here with one of these things on.  And if we can’t do it together…well, physically, then we can do them together in separate rooms.  Like everything else we need to do.”

Her cheeks flushed red – not that he could see.  He bought sheetmasks and put them on with her.  He gave her time to write.  He encouraged her writing.  He listened to her.  He cared for her.  He was even better than anything she could have imagined in a dream boyfriend.  How did she get so lucky?  How did she let guys treat her like shit before him?  She felt tears well in her eyes.  He was going all out to make the best of the bubble, and she couldn’t be more thankful.  “I love you so much, Willy.”

“I love you too, minskatt.”

“No…I love you Willy.  Like love you love you.  Love you love you love you.  I don’t even have the words…and I’m a writer!  You make me speechless, Willy.  There aren’t enough words in the English or Swedish languages that I can string together that will, like, tell you or show you how much I love you.”

“I get it, minskatt.  Don’t worry.  I feel the same way.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

“I annoyed you enough until I wore you down,” he quipped.

She giggled.  “You seduced me is what I’d call it.”

“I don’t know about that.  If I remember correctly it was you rubbing yourself against my thigh that morning.”

She made a face at him.  He made the exact same face back but crinkled his sheetmask so he had to flatten it with his free hand.  She watched him with complete adulation.  “Willy?”

“Minskatt?”

“Can we listen to our song together?”

William smiled.  He fiddled around with his phone and his ‘Minskatt’ playlist until the familiar chords started playing over the phone, filling the air with the nicest, best, most beautiful sound Aberdeen had ever heard – save for Willy’s laugh, maybe – because she knew this song was about her, about them, and it was still their little secret.

[eagehaunting]

Mystery March 2021 day 9: Trapped

It took her an embarrassingly long time to finally notice that the house was far from quiet AND that the deadbeat who was snuggling up to her earlier was missing.

The entire time, she assumed that they scurried off to sleep in a nook or cranny that she couldn’t find. Since she couldn’t hear the tiny beeps and squeaks she was so accustomed to, Vivi figured that there wasn’t an issue.

Except it became startlingly apparently why she couldn’t hear them. The washing machine was on. Too engrossed in her book, Vivi simply ignored the family whir of the machine and waited for her timer to go off.

Timer goes off, and Vivi unfolds her legs from under her, sets her book down, and stretches. Moaning long and hard as she points her toes out all the way and ridding all the comfort and cramps out of her knees until they were tired and jelly like.

Satisfied, Vivi heaves herself off the couch, stretches her arm behind her head, and leisurely ambles to the laundry room.

When a noise suddenly grabs her by the ear. Pausing, Vivi glances around, honing in on the sound.

A faint banging almost convinces her that the washer is still running, if it wasn’t followed by several more angry squeaks. Sighing, Vivi purses her lips. “Oh boy, where’d you get stuck this time?” She asks the air, eyeing the vents suspiciously. Last time a deadbeat got stuck somewhere, they were zipping through the vents and causing a loud ruckus. Which is why Vivi stands on her toes and tries to aim her ear to the vent above Arthurs door. Nothing... maybe the vents downstairs? Surely they had a better lay out of all the hiding places in the basement, and it’ll be a pain to have to locate those hiding spots, but alas.

She’ll start looking after moving her blanket to the dryer. It was starting to get cold without the deadbeat there to sit on her feet.

Padding to the laundry room, Vivi unhooks the door and steps in lazily. Heading first to the cabinet, she snags her ball of mint scented yarn.

Another series of bangs and screaming squeaks makes Vivi jump. She drops her yarn, but it’s quickly forgotten. Spinning on her heel, Vivi stares at the shaking washer in growing horror.

“Oh my fucking god, you can’t be kidding me.” She hisses under her breath, unable to open it fast enough.

The pink deadbeat shoots up into her chin, knocking her back as it angrily hissed and spit. Vivi jumps back a few paces, covering her mouth to hide the snort she barely held back.

”Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to put you in the wash.”

The deadbeat glares and beeps at her again- only to cut itself off with a rapid shake that made it go brbrbrbrb- before yelling at her more. Water sprays across her face, but Vivi doesn’t have the heart to scold. Reaching out, Vivi cups the furiously wet deadbeat and cradles them under her chin, petting them lightly as she bites back the full belly laugh just dying to come out.

“Shit, I bet Lewis is going to be mad when he finds out I trapped you in the wash. Isnt he?”

The deadbeat beeps at her and sticks their sopping wet body under her scarf. Which she pretty much deserved, and thus didn’t fight back.

The realization then his her, and Vivi slaps a hand over her mouth, “You poor baby. We’re you wrapped in my blanket? Did I a-accidentally wake you up from your nap with a b-bath?”

Another undignified beep, this time directly in her ear.

[romanceimp]

Hey love! I was wondering if you could do some aftercare with shikamaru, or maybe the morning after yall fucked realll good but just make it pretty fluffy (it's fine if u don't want to! ik soft isnt ur style😉)

Absolutely! I am actually so soft but also just a total perv with no chill hahaha. It is an interesting dichotomy. But yes! After all the stories I’ve written about him completely destroying you, I think this is definitely in order...

One thing I would like to just quickly discuss is a lot of subs experience, subspace, or a sort of high from a BDSM scene due to the chemicals in the brain being released. Subdrop is the result of those hormones balancing back out to a more neutral state. Some common side effects of subdrop are feeling cold, moodiness/slight depression, lethargy, and sometimes a feeling of being disconnected from the space around you. The drop can happen immediately or sometimes a few days later. Aftercare is always important immediately after and the days following a scene. I don’t include it in every story I write bc of time, but know that if someone is unwilling to provide aftercare, they are not worthy or deserving of you at all, let alone your time in the bedroom. Aftercare is specific to the individual (I personally want tea and frozen grapes and cuddles) and in many cases, it is reciprocal between the Dom and sub. Remember, real Doms respect your limits and always always give aftercare. 

I’ll get off my soapbox now, I just want yall to have all the love and respect you deserve. Because every single one of you reading this are important.

AfterCare : 

WARNING: mentions of sexual things, D/s dynamics, subdrop, but mostly just super fluffy Shika caring for you and lots of cuteness

Your body was spent, breathing ragged and your skin was sticky with a mixture of sweat and cum. You were laying on your back, the afterglow of your orgasm, lighting up your aura. Shikamaru peppered kisses all over your face. “You’re such a good girl,” he said, “my beautiful girl.” You could only manage a smile in response to his praise. You reached up to cup his face and noticed the heaviness to your movements. Shikamaru traced over your face, down your neck, and to your collarbone. His light touches caused a shiver to ripple over your skin, goose pimples following in their wake. He kissed your neck tenderly. “You’re cold,” he observed. “I think we should get cleaned up before we cuddle, yeah?” he prompted. You did want to get cleaned up but you felt so tired. “Can we cuddle now?” you asked softly. He rolled over onto his side and pulled you into him. “We can but then we need to take a shower, we have to get you back in your body, my love.”  You nodded, eyes closed, hands clasped around his, pulling it into your heart. 

You weren’t sleeping, in fact your mind felt as if it was buzzing with no thoughts in particular, just strange random images that seemed to pass like clouds behind your eyelids. Shikamaru’s breaths were slow and deep, and you instinctively began to match the pattern. As soon as you’d calmed, Shikamaru kissed your cheek, “I love you.” You smiled and kissed his hand, “I love you too,” you replied, snuggling into the curve of his body. He kissed your head once more before moving to get out of bed. “Don’t go,” you pleaded. “I’m just gonna turn on the shower okay? I’ll be right back.” You shook your head, holding onto his arm. He laughed softly, “you’re so cute, do you wanna come with me then?” You nodded, you weren’t sure why it happened this way, but sometimes even the slightest distance from him could feel like an uncrossable abyss. “Up we go,” he said sweetly as he helped you move to sit. He gave your head a second to adjust to being upright, holding your face and kissing your cheeks, forehead, and nose. He then helped you stand up, “good?” he asked. “Mmhmm,” but you paused slightly, “can I go pee before we shower?” you asked. He laughed, “you don’t need to ask, love, just go.” You laughed and then padded into the bathroom. 

A few moments later you opened the door to let Shikamaru in. He turned the water on and carefully watched you as he waited for it to warm. You were spaced out, dreamy, sitting on the lid of the toilet seat. Your elbows were resting on your knees and your chin in your hands. It both amazed Shikamaru and slightly concerned him when you fell this deep. He understood it was just a part of the process, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. “Whatchya thinking about, gorgeous?” he asked. You turned your head to him and giggled. “This funny video that my friend sent me,” you replied. Shikamaru raised his eyebrows and then took your hand and lead you into the shower. 

He let you be underneath the water first, standing back behind you and the stream of the water. He admired the dark marks that covered your ass and the back of your thighs. He rubbed your shoulders and kissed your neck, he could still feel your muscles tensed and he worked his thumbs into your flex, coaxing you into a deeper state of relaxation. You stepped forward to allow him to get into the water as well. You turned to look at him and your face lit up. “Hey, you have your hair down!” He chuckled, his hair had been down for the last hour and you were just now noticing. It was a testament to how deep you had been in subspace, but also a sign that you were coming back to yourself. “I like it down,” you added. “Thank you beautiful,” he replied . “Okay now turn around so I can wash your hair,” he said and you did. You loved this, when he would massage the shampoo into your scalp. It was the way he did it, it was so conscious and done with care. It was as if he was trying to wash all the negative thoughts from your head. You felt loved and like you were being restored. He tilted your head back, careful to not get the soap in your eyes as he washed it out of your hair. Your hair and mind now feeling much more clean, you turned to Shikamaru. “Can I wash your hair too?” you asked. He smiled wide, handed you the shampoo, and said “go for it.” You moved behind him and began to lather his head. You had to reach up to soap all of his hair and then tipped his head back and rinsed his hair, using your palm to help remove the soap. 

When the water ran clear without soap you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him. You rested your head against his back. He laughed softly, you were so cute, how could he resist. “Hey,” he turned around and hugged you back. You thought he was going to continue speaking but he finished his thought by locking his lips onto yours. It was a passionate kiss, reserved for the times where words weren't enough to communicate what he was feeling. 

He spun you around and did your conditioner and then this time did his own. He knew he had to get you cleaned up and into bed, it was already getting pretty late. Shikamaru took a cloth and lathered it with your soap before using it to scrub your body down, removing any of the evidence from your previous activities. Any marks that were left were washed gently and given a kiss to show his appreciation and affection. You took the cloth from his hands and repeated his movements, on his body this time. Shikamaru was surprised, you hadn’t washed him before but he didn’t complain. It was a nice testament to how much you cared for him. He rinsed off quickly and took your face in his hands. “I’m gonna put new sheets on the bed for us, okay? Can you stay here for a sec?” You nodded and watch as he exited the shower. You stood underneath the water and listened as he got himself a towel and began to dry off. The sound of Shikamaru exiting the bathroom and the rush of cold air that accompanied snapped something inside of you. A deep sadness welled from inside your chest and tears began to trickle down your cheeks. ‘It’s just the drop, it’s all okay,” you told yourself. You wanted to go back out to Shikamaru and lay wrapped in his arms. ‘He’s just outside making the bed, he’s not that far away, it’s okay,” you consoled. You felt embarrassed now, that you’d been crying for no reason. It made you feel anxious, worrying that Shikamaru would be frustrated with your up and down emotions. But you also knew that stewing in your current state would make it worse, so it would be better to se him. 

You turned the water off and grabbed a clean towel from under the sink. You wrapped it around you and opened the door to your shared bedroom. Shikamaru had just finished putting the fitted sheet on the bed. He had dressed himself in a pair of grey sweatpants, but still had yet to put a shirt on. Small beads of water rolled down his chest from his hair. He was unfolding the top sheet when he saw your eyes red and puffy, standing wrapped in the towel. His face dropped into concern as he looked over at you. “Hey, hey, what’s happening?” he asked gently. You walked over to him and nuzzled your head into his chest. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap. He rocked back and forth holding on to you. “It’s okay love, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered as you began to calm once more. Your breath slightly shaky. You relished in the feeling of being enveloped by his warmth, his clean scent filling your senses. He slowly slid you onto the bed, pulling the towel from around you, folding it and placing it under your head so the bed didn’t get wet. “I’m gonna make the rest of the bed around you,” he explained smiling. He flipped the top sheet over you, then the comforter and then he cased the pillows and arranged them around you, like you were in a nest. “There you go, perfect,” he smiled down at you. You reached for him and he leaned down to kiss you. “I’m gonna get something for you to eat, okay love? Will you be okay?” You nodded back up at him and he disappeared down the hall. 

When he returned he had a bowl with apple slices, powdered with cinnamon and drizzled with honey, and a glass of water. He set the bowl down on the side table and grabbed a sleep shirt for you from the drawer. “I don’t want you getting cold,” he grinned. You reached for the shirt to put it on but he slipped it over your head for you. Shikamaru climbed into bed next to you and handed you the bowl of apples. “For you, my beauty,” he admired and you smiled as you ate your snack. “So do you wanna show me that video your friend sent you?” Your eyes lit up and that was the reaction he was hoping for. He needed to bring you back down to the present moment, back to your body instead of you floating outside of it. Shikamaru knew that this deep of a drop could last a few days but the sooner he got you even just a little bit more grounded the easier the transition would be for you. “Hold this for me will ya?” you asked and he took the bowl from your hands as you reached for your phone. 

One video led to many and soon you were laughing and talking more while munching on your apples. Shikamaru took the empty bowl and handed you the glass of water. You took a few sips and then held the glass to his lips, “you too,” you beamed. He drank and then thanked you before setting the glass on the side table. He rubbed your tummy and kissed it, “feel better?” he asked. “Yeah, much... thank you, I love you.” He kissed you, “I love you right back.” He coaxed you up and back to the bathroom to brush teeth and properly get ready for bed.

You both climbed back into bed and Shikamaru turned out the light. His arms encircled your body as they did every night. His warmth was comforting and you entertained your legs with his in an effort to feel ever closer to him. “You take good care of me,” you murmured, half asleep. “That’s because, I love you, and we belong to each other... for however long you want it to be that way,” he whispered. Your eyes opened and you turned to look at him. “For forever,” you said almost hurt at the implication. He kissed you for the last time that night, “alright then, I’m yours forever.” You fell asleep with a smile on your face that night. 

Your eyes fluttered open, the golden light of morning filtered through the blinds. You took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. A kiss on your cheek alerted you that Shikamaru was awake too. “Good morning Princess, how are you feeling?” You rolled over so that your head was on his chest. You drew small patterns with your fingertips over his heart, little flowers and other simple shapes. “I am wonderful, how are you?” “Even better now,”he responded with a kiss to your head. “Now, what do you want for breakfast?” You laughed softly, “no, you can’t do it yourself, I wanna help.” You paused, and snuggled deeper into his chest. “But in a little while,  I just wanna lay here with you for a little longer.” Shikamaru stroked up and down your arm, “we can lay here as long as you want.” “Forever?” “Forever.” 

[drowning-rats-in-fandoms]

Y/N is an intelligence officer on Ren's ship and he always goes to her before missions

When she first gets hired, she always has the mission information sent to him as early as possible

During the debriefing missions, she has the balls to corrent and add information that aas left out or wrong

It's almost always directed to Hux

Kylo enjoys watching someone else irritate Hux by doing their job

When the missions became more sporadic and information was being brought in left and right, Y/N moved her living quarters closer to Kylo's and Hux's living quarters so when she needs to present the information, she goes to them any hour of the day

Hux hates it, wishing to fire her. He know how important she is to the First Order, so he can't

Kylo doesn't care what time she delivers information. Y/N isnt like the guards that stumble over their words and take for ever to relay information

Y/N shows up (after sometime she is given Kylo's code of access to his quarters), hands him her data pad, and leaves.

Hux get an older model of data pads, Kylo gets her own. Her information is all stored on those two devices

Kylo always returns her pad to the table in her quarters. Hux never seeks Y/N out to give it back.

One mission in particular was stressful

On both their ends

Y/N has a translator implanted in her brain to allow her to read and decipher words

During the mission debrief, Hux suggested that Y/N should go along since she mentioned one(1) time that she is one of the only people able to decipher those words

Kylo immediately rejected, having grown fold of his coworker, not romantically of course

"Commander Ren, General Hux is correct. I should go on the mission."

"You have no field training, you'll hold us back. We can just send you video of the dialect." He thought he had a point

"I remember you forgetting to ask what my previous job was commander, may I fill you in?" She snaps right back, General Hux smirking that she is now attacking Ren instead of him.

"Please, enlighten me." Kylo leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. She was nothing more than a brain.

Y/N untucked her uniform to show a gnarly scar lacerating her entire side.

"That was my last bounty hunting job I did with a mandalorian. Saved his skin and his ship. Left me for dead. General Hux has been watching me for a while to recruit me, saw his chance." Y/N would never credit Hex with saving her life, even though they both knew it.

"I know my way around any weapon you give me. I'll do my job and stay out of your way." She sits down in her seat, readjusting her clothes.

Kylo sits there for a moment, empathetic for her, his mask not showing it.

"Report at the hanger at 0600 tomorrow. Stop by the arsenal to pick a weapon." Kylo then leaves in a rush, the meeting quickly adjourned

He

Never

Left

Her

Side

The crypt was filled with strange coffins, some decorated, some not.

Cobwebs and rodents fill the place, Commander Ren taking lead and eliminating the distractions.

Any rune Y/N would see, she would decipher, hoping to point her commander in the correct direction.

Once they get to the end of the tunnel, a bare wall is presented to them.

Kylo ignited is Saber and was about to destroy the wall when Y/N shouted for him to stop.

The urgency in his voice made him hesitate, the hand on his arm guiding the saber close to the made him stop. He allowed her to hover his saber closer to the wall, her hand warm though his field clothes.

Then he saw it.

The heirogliphs showed faintly though the light of the Kyber crystal, the regular lights not doing anthing.

"Lights off. Now." The 4 storm troopers accompanying them complied, turning the hallway dark except for the glowing red saber.

The wall completely illuminated with glyphs, making Y/N gasp.

"What is it?" Kylo asked, his mask trained on her astonished face

"You found it. What your looking for is on the other side. I just need to find a way in." Her voice is low, focused. Kylo saw that she was in her environment, adrenaline rushing through her veins allowed for a quicker deciphering.

Her hands voided the saber in weird movement along the wall, allowing for her to read.

Kylo noticed everything about her, the way she bit her cheek when her breathing picked up, her eyes flickering to him fir a moment before continuing to read. Her grip on his forearm tightens as she holds her breath, hovering over the last hieroglyph.

Y/N let's go of Kylo's arm and takes a step back, creating professional spacing.

"In short, you actually have to stable the wall. In long, you can only stab it in one spot. Only you can see the spot using the force. Dont ask me how, it never said." Y/N steps back with the troopers, allowing Kylo to do his thing.

He nods his head to her, she nods back, her face blank.

Kylo turns to the wall, closes his eye, feeling for the weak spot. He grows frustrated when he cant find it, letting out a huff.

"What do you feel." You.

"There is no weakness in the wall." His voice is strained though the modulator, trying to not last out.

"Maybe the wall is all weak and you need to look for the strong spot. Breaking that should weaken the hold on the weak spots, allowing the wall to crumble." She sounded so close to him, like it was only them.

Kylo focuses on the calm in her tone of voice, allowing him to concentrate on his objective.

Not even seconds later, he finds it, the spot is in the direct center of the wall.

"The keystone." He whispers, the modulator garbling the word.

He reposition his last connection to his grandfather, the helmet being completely destroyed by Supreme Leader Snoke. Kylo drives the blade through the spot, the wall immediately shaking.

Two strong hands grab his robes and pull him out of the stones impact, the small group watching the wall shift and change.

Larger pieces of rock fall as the smaller ones swirl in a circle, assembling themselves in the doorway behind the wall.

The door opens to reveal a corpse cradling a book to its chest.

Kylo immediately rips the book from the corpse's grasp before Y/N could stop him.

"Is that what you need?" Chills run down her spine as the entire crypt turns silent.

Too silent.

"Yes." He turns back to her, handing the text to Y/N, allowing her to out it in her book bag.

Before the mission he pulled her aside. Her job is to translate and to protect the text. His job was to get them in and get them out. They agreed.

Y/N facial expression and the sense of dread Kylo could read on her told him to move quickly.

"Stay behind me. Make sure she doesnt get hit." He points to the respectful groups before charging off into the darkness.

Y/N asks the trooper to turn their lights back on to help them see their way back.

Not everyone has the force to guide them.

Everyone did their jobs, quickly and quietly. The six moved through the crypt, moving up from the deep dungeons.

Once they get to the first open area, they were ambushed. Reanimated skeletons, strange tan creatures, and those damn rats attacked the group.

Y/N drew her sword, charging it. She stayed relatively near the middle of the room, not seating out a fight.

Kylo Ren sliced and diced through the enemies, keeping an eyes on Y/N. The troopers shot down the rats with surprising accuracy. Kylo took care of everything else.

Until two yellow monster slipped from the main group and attacked Y/N from infront and behind.

Kylo quickly eliminated the rest of his threats and watched in awe as Y/N gracefully finished the fight.

Her kicked the one infront of her, throwing him on his back. She quickly pivots, her sword cutting up through the stomach, and down across its head. Before the second monster can register what happened, Y/N turned again, finishing off the first monster with a quick decapitation.

She quickly disarms her sword, reattached it to her back, and looked at the other 5 people in her group.

"They said that more are on their way. We need to leave. Now." It took Kylo a sweet second to put his ass in gear and steer his group out of the crypt, not meeting any more strange creatures.

Once in hyperspace, Y/N stands behind Kylo's chair, watching the stars.

"How did you hear them communicate? None of them spoke." Kylo was watching her through the reflection of the window, further respect for his colleague bloomed in his mind.

"The rats were actually in charge. The yellow creatures, called voulnders, were allowed to live in and around the crypts. Their exchange was that the Voulnders were to reanimate the corpses with their magic when their temple was under attack."

"They said all of that?" Kylo turned in his seat, Y/N already standing far enough away to not get hit.

"The wall that you hit showed the pact that those two creatures made. It also showed how to get in. Only a might warrior could." There was a pause before Y/N spoke again.

"Don't let that go to your head." She then walked out of the room.

Over the years, the two grew closer.

Sparring, talking, planning missions. Everything platonic.

When Kylo cant sleep because of the nightmares caused by Snoke, he'd go into Y/N's room, falling alseep on her couch, in view of her bed.

"If you like my couch so much, why not move it to your room." Y/N asks one morning, handing Kylo his caf.

"It's not the couch that puts me to sleep." His voice is low, eyes dropping to the ground.

Y/N hand cups his chin, lifting his eyes to meet hers. Her gentile smile puts him at ease.

Y/N remembers the first time she saw him without the mask.

It was a few nights in after relentless nightmares, the first time Kylo slept in Y/N's room.

He was half asleep, running on caf and a few minutes of sleep. Everyone on the ship could sense his worsening mood, assuming that it was from the last failed mission.

It was a repercussion of it, Snoke filling everyone involved in the mission with thoughts of dread.

Y/N hid it suprising well when on the command deck, doing her job.

But now, in the middle of the night, she knew she looked like shit.

When her commander knocked on her door, she rolled out of bed, her hair in a loose braid, her body clad in a pair of over sized black training shots and shirt.

Her commander was dressed similarly. She recognized the drained look in his eyes from her own.

She stepped aside to let him in her space, her eyes never leaving the constipation of beauty marks on his face.

Y/N shut off her night, resetting their automatic switch.

She grabs Kylo's bare arm and leads him to bed. She lies on her back, and she pulls him into her, his head resting on her stomach.

Kylo didnt right against her, his mind not raising any alarms.

Once her hands started to play with his hair, Kylo was out.

Y/N stayed awake a little longer, enjoying how soft and smooth her Commander's hair is. She falls asleep, her hands still tangled in his hair.

She woke up first at the rising of the dim lights, she took her time to wake up, enjoying the presence of another body against hers.

Kylo's breathing was still even as she replaced her body with her pillow.

Y/N went to her closet, pulled out her repaired bounty hunting armour, the silver beskar reminding her of painful memories of her old partner.

She changes quickly, keeping an eye on the commander in her bed.

"where are you going?" His voice asks, not removing his head from your pillow.

"To fix our problem."

"Snoke doesnt respond well to asking nicely."

"Oh, that's not why in going to Snoke. Go back to sleep if you can Commander. You need it." He seemed to get only a few hours of sleep last night.

Y/N straps the rest of her weapons to her body, her rifle sliding easily over her back. Her viroblade in the holster at her waist.

She tucks the bucket in her arm, looking at Kylo one last time before going on her first line mission during her First Order Career.

It wont be her last.

It only took her two days, the bounty hunter returning to Snoke with a head and the correct location of the cargo.

"How do you know its correct?" Snoke leans in his chair, observing the cleanly severed head at his feet.

"This tracker." Her voice is modulated, she throws the red chip to her Supreme Leader.

Snoke catches it, hums in approval.

"You have a new job. We have a suitable replacement for you."

Commander Y/N Y/L/N, leader of the bounties hunters and scouts of the first order.

The nightmares stopped

Missions became more successful

Kylo still couldn't sleep without being in the presence of Y/N. Her calm attitude put him at ease enough to fall asleep.

[zombieratt]

Alright so forewarning this is LONG as FUCK specifically because i came up with this idea in early high school and was just today POSESSEd By the Spirit Of Musical Theatre to put it to paper— er Tumblr.

So without further ado:

DEAR EVAN HANSEN BUT EVAN ISNT A TERRIBLE PERSON AND CONNOR LIVES.

the beginning is the same, canon diverges just after waving through a window.

*this ended up getting written is script format? i also just sorta ignore alana’s whole exsistance bc in this version of the play she’s unnecessary*

In the moments before he talks to Connor evan decides to omit Zoe from his letter, having resolved himself to move on from her. (instead of being a hella creep.)

Connor: “dear Evan Hansen,” what are you writing letters to yourself? *he laughs*

Evan: its, uh, its for my therapist. its just a stupid little assignment that she says is supposed to help me process my feelings or— uh or something

Connor: hm. here. * hands Evan the letter*

Connor: your cast. no one’s signed it.

Evan: uh no. no one has.

Connor: gotta sharpie?

Evan: huh?

Connor: gotta sharpie? im gonna sign it.

Evan: *handing the sharpie to Connor* w- whuh uh why?

Connor: *shrugs* feels right.

Evan: i wish i could do that

Connor: what?

Evan: UH, IMEAN—

Connor: no wait- dude.

Evan: i mean uh, i meant that i wish i could just be, y’know impulsive like that.

Connor: Why Cant you be?

Evan: i uh, my heads pretty messed up, and stuff like that just, makes it worse i guess.

Connor: well theres some thing we have in common— were both fucked up in the head.

*the bell rings*

Evan: oh shoot! i missed the bus—

Connor: i’ll give you a ride.

Evan: are you sure i mean i can walk its not far-

Connor: all the more reason, i probably have to pass it on my way home anyway, cmon.

——

they meet Zoe in the parking lot

Zoe: I have Late practice today

Connor: whatever, gotta passenger.

Zoe: who the fuck would be crazy enough to trust your ability to drive?

Evan *being Brave*: Me Apparently?

Zoe: Uh, Evan Right?

Evan: yeah, uh, yeah.

Zoe *holding her hand out to be shaken*: i’m Zoe, we’ve met though right?

Evan wipes his hand on his shirt and shakes it: yeah, uh, nice to formally meet you, Zoe.

Zoe: i’m off, don’t kill him stoner.

Connor: i wont Princess

Evan breathing heavy: that was,, an eventful ten minutes.

Connor: oh fuck— you cool? or—

Evan: Panic Attack.

Connor: Right, uh

Connor: can you get in the car?

Evan: yeah

*car nonsense*

Connor: Can i start driving or do you want me to wait

Evan: Distractions are good,, Can Uh, Can you Talk about Stuff?

Connor: What stuff!??

Evan: any Stuff!

Connor: Is Zoe okay??

Evan: Sure?!

Connor: Uhh we don’t get along as well as we used to?

we were really close as kids, shes a huge asshole now but *fully venting now*

i kind of miss it you know? having someone to talk to and care about— and i still care about her— but its scary and i always fuck it up! not to mention the fact that our parents hate me— make her see me as some alien and not just a fucked up kid who wants to talk and — (more ranting that i dont feel like writing, but its a whole monologue bro)

Evan: Connor

Connor snaps his mouf shut: yeah

Evan: thanks

Connor: oh that, uh actually helped?

Evan: yeah focusing on your voice and whats real and stuff— it makes a difference.

Neither of them noticed that Connor was just sort of Driving. they end up at the park where in canon Connor commits Sewer-slide.

Evan: i didn’t know there was a park here.

Connor: huh, oh, yeah i guess i just sorta auto piloted, i come here to think.

Evan: About stuff?

Connor: Yeah, Stuff.

*the convo lulls*

Connor: do you have a laptop?

Evan: no, i uh, i left it at home? why?

Connor: give me a second

Connor walks to the car and grabs his back pack out of the back seat

Evan watches Quizzically from the swing-set

Connor pulls out a Sketch Pad and Pen, flipping to a clean page.

Connor: So tell me how to write one of those letters of yours.

Evan: uh, well you start like any other letter- just addressing it to yourself

Connor writing: Dear Connor Murphy,

Evan: and uh, my first one was supposed to be about my ideal summer vacation? since i started in middle school- but you don’t have to—

Connor: thats perfect.

Connor starts to sing for forever,

eventually Evan joins in there is a minor gay moment where they’re holding hands face to face.

the song ends with Connor hugging Evan.

Evan: its- its pretty late.

Connor obviously crying: just— just a couple more minutes.

Evan lets go and grabs Connors sketch book of the ground, closing it and handing it off to him: then how about this, labor day weekend- we actually go.

Connor: what are you talking about?

Evan: being spontaneous?

Connor: o-okay.

and it cuts to black.

theres a small montage here, as the set changes to Connor and Evans bedrooms

sincerely, me is a lament in this context, Connor and Evan are duetting from their respective rooms, writing to themselves.

(the lyrics are completely different and i will not be writing them here because thats too much fucking effort.

but they’re duetting from their bedrooms about making a connection to another person, feeling seen, for the first time. what it felt like and how they really want to keep it up but are afraid of making a mistake and ruining it.

its got some themes of waving thru a window, and a little bit of for forever, but its still largely the same notes just in a different key.)

after wards, Zoe knocks on Connors door to tell him dinner is ready to find him peacefully asleep.

requiem is the same, Zoe sees Connor as Dead to Her instead of actually dead, so some of the wording changes, so and so about how a monster doesn’t deserve peaceful rest etcetera.

school day happens, Connor doesn’t die, but the hot goss is that everyone saw Connor and Evan go home together after school, jared makes a shitty homophobic joke to Evan and Evan kind of tells him off about it. they argue and it culminates in Evan saying “well god forbid I’m friends with someone who isn’t YOU!” or smth like tht and it hits jared right the fuck at home man.

Connor says from the side lines: damn that was pretty hard core dude.

Evan: you have, no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.

Connor honest to god l a u g h s, theres a number of people who hear it and lose their shit, Zoe being one of them: i have a pretty good idea, wanna get some lunch?

Evan: yeah, sure.

this general routine continues until labor day weekend, when they plan to go on their little escape. theres a short scene of Connor leaving the house with his keys and a backpack.

Connors mom confronts Zoe about his oddly upbeat attitude and hows he’s seemed differently lately Zoe Shrugs but decides to investigate his room.

she finds the letters. the first one is for forever, the theme plays as she reads it frantically, and is signed “Sincerely me (connor murphy)” so she knows its him, i f i could tell her begins but its a real duet between Connor and Zoe and at the end she resolves to try harder to connect to him.

Evan sings disappear to Connor after breaking into a formerly public park, in this context its him confessing that he broke his arm attempting su!c!de. Connor records it, for personal reference.

jared hacks Connors phone and steals the video, posting it to yt, in an effort to ruin their friendship.

Evan and Connor get in a little fight about it, and in the meantime Evan is called to the school to give an assembly because hes a phenomenal speaker and Disappear got like 1000000 views over night.

Zoe and Connor bond a little bit in a short scene before the assembly

Zoe: wheres Evan what happened?

Connor: Kleinman Did!

Zoe: what?

Connor: Why Do you care?

Zoe: because! you look happy around him!

Connor: i, i do?

Zoe: yeah? he could tell the worst joke ever written and you’d crack up. i haven’t heard you laugh like that in years Connor, maybe ever.

Connor: oh.

Zoe: Come back inside?

Connor: y, Yeah.

they all perform You Will Be Found together.

end act 1.

(no more dialogue from here i got tired)

to break in a glove is Connor’s dad trying to reconnect with him, it goes mediocrely, but Connor feels like hes being seen by his dad for the first time in years. its said in metaphors, but this is Connors dads way of saying that if Connor is willing to put in the work, so is he. they hug at the end, things are looking up. some talk of therapy is sprinkiled in the dialogue as they walk of stage together.

Only Us is Evan and Connor saying that they saved each other. its loosely romantic, as its a love song, but they don’t out right say that they’re in love or anything, they don’t know if theyre ready for that. its a promise. the song ends with Connor finally apologizing for pushing Evan over at the beginning of the show.

good for you is sung by jared only, as a power ballad, about losing people you didn’t treasure. its his attempt at an apology, but it ultimately fails, since jared is unable to take responsibility for his own actions. this is where jared and Evan go their separate ways.

Evan’s mom comforts him, as he sings words fail, which is about specifically jared, and how their rocky friendship is ruined and Evan pegs himself as the cause, instead of parents or perfect girl he uses metaphors that apply to best friends— maybe more. and talks about how he didn’t try, he was happy so he ignored that jared was hurting, and how that was really shitty of him. but instead of it being a generally somber song the end is lighter, because Connor is there— waving through his front window.

Evans mom sings So Big/So Small as Evan steps out the front door to embrace Connor and they mime talking about jared, hug and take hands. the house moves off stage in preparation for the finale.

Connor and Evan open the finale saying each others names, and sing it together as the test of the cast (minus jared) joins in, Evans mom taking his hand and Zoe Taking Connors, Evans mom the Murphys and Zoe break off to the back where Evan and Connor finish the final “all i see is sky for forever” while looking into each others eyes, and finish the musical by embracing (maybe kissing if thats ur jam).