#sorry anon but please don’t. please don’t.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Heart-lifter, ft. Red Velvet Seulgi

tags: blowjob, anal teasing, first time anal

length: 10k

author's note: This fic was built on an idea sent by an anon, and this is a good opportunity to say that even though you can send ideas (complete with a plot or not), I decide whether I'll write it, and if I do end up writing it, I get to decide the way the plot progresses. I hope that won't discourage people from submitting their ideas.

-

Seulgi lowers the bill of her cap as she eyes this convenience store for the perfect opportunity for a quick in-and-out snatch.

“Fuck, am I really doing this?” Different versions of this question have been running amuck in her head, and for a good reason, too: Seulgi used to be standing on stage with bright lights shining on her, but ever since her agency folded, she was forced to do things that she normally wouldn’t (i.e. stealing) just so that she can get her hands on most-needed daily essentials.

Seulgi’s heart races: what if she gets caught? What if the police get involved? What if— “Ah, fuck it, I don’t have any other options.” Her good conscience tries so hard to convince her that there are other options, but no matter how much it’s trying to make Seulgi stop, she simply won’t, and as she’s approaching the shop, she puts on a mask and zips up her jacket to conceal herself better.

Once she’s in, she takes a few laps around the shop and takes mental notes of where the desired items are: soju is in the glass fridge at the back, pads and soaps are on the shelves in a nearby aisle, and finally, makeup are on the shelves across in the same aisle. “Do I want snacks as well?” Seulgi tries to estimate the size of the items she wants since they will all need to fit around her body, inside the jacket that’s not too big to begin with. “Maybe I can fit a pack of Oreo or two,” she thinks.

She stands in front of the big fridge, and the way the glass door is showing her reflection makes her question herself once more. Seulgi’s eyes wander off her target and shift towards her feet. “Fuck, mama would be so sad if she knew about this.”

“Excuse me, miss,” a voice snaps her out of her trance, “I want to grab something, so can you please move a little?” Her first instinct is to say sorry and step back, but she manages to stop herself from speaking just in time. There’s a possibility that this woman might recognize her based on hearing her voice, so she simply nods and moves away from the fridge.

Seulgi takes a momentary shelter in an aisle that’s full of instant noodles. Her eyes happen to land on a pack of instant carbonara ramen that she loves. “I used to be able to afford boxes of this thing at once,” she thinks as she holds one in the air. She hears the fridge’s door closing and guesses that the woman is done grabbing whatever. “Alright, let’s not second-guess this.”

With renewed certainty, she makes her way back to the fridge and, without thinking twice, snatches a bottle of soju. After hiding it inside her jacket, she proceeds to go to another aisle to get some sanitary products. Seulgi has half a dozen items hidden underneath her jacket now, and as tempting as it is to get more stuff, she doesn’t want to risk it even further. “That’s it for now.” Seulgi fast-walks towards the exit, and as luck would have it, a bunch of other people are also about to exit, so if the alarms were to trip, no one would be able to point at her directly.

True enough, the shop’s alarms start blaring as soon as she walks out of the door, but she stays calm so that people won’t be too suspicious. Seulgi immediately makes a left turn into an alley, and that is when she starts running, hugging herself tightly as she does to prevent the stolen items from falling out. “C’mon, Kang Seulgi; you can make it home safely.”

-

“Thank you so much, miss,” you say as you take a cup of hot chocolate and a triangle kimbap from the server. “Of course, sir—come back again soon!” With a smile, you step away from the register and make your way towards the exit.

You take a sip from the paper cup, and your body immediately feels the warmth from the hot chocolate that serves as a salvation on this cold night. “Oh my God, that’s so good.” You set your hot chocolate on the hood of your car so that you can shift your attention to this warm triangle on your other hand.

“Alright, let’s see if their spicy tuna is actually spicy,” you say to yourself as you free the kimbap of its packaging. The taste of the first bite makes you let out a sigh of satisfaction; not only is the tuna filling properly spicy, but it’s also very flavorful. “I’m about to fucking bust from this,” you think.

You pull out your phone and take a picture of the café’s exterior— “Oh, I’m so sorry.” You turn around to see who just hit you. “Are you okay, miss?” You can’t see her face, but she gives you some rapid nods. You’re a little surprised when you see some soaps falling out of her jacket. “Let me grab that for you, miss.”

You bend down and pick up the soaps, but her hands are too busy hugging herself when you’re trying to hand them back. “C-can you put them in my front pockets, please?” You finally hear the woman’s voice. “Sure.” You lift the tabs that are covering her pockets and fill each pocket with a bar of soap.

“Here—" You hear a short static from your earpiece, thus interrupting your speech. “Unit 318, 10-40. 10-20, 102 South Boulevard. 10-21, complainant reports of a theft from the shop they’re working at. 10-12, await further information.” You keep your eyes on the woman as you wait for the rest of the call. “10-35, suspect is a female, wearing a brown jacket and a cap of similar color.”

The call finishes right as the woman begins walking away from you, but you manage to halt her by gripping her shoulder. “Not so fast, miss—wait a moment, please?” You lift the left side of your coat to talk into the radio hidden underneath it. “This is unit 318—10-4, will respond directly to South Boulevard.”

You pull her closer towards your car, and that is when you see that she’s shaking. “Are you cold, miss?” She simply shakes her head to your question, still not making eye contact with you. You’re quite confident that the call was about this woman who’s standing right in front of you, but obviously you can’t just arrest people based on gut feelings alone, so, “Miss, I have some questions for you, so please get in the car.”

With little resistance, the woman enters your car from the back door that you’re opening for her and takes a seat in the back of your police car. Once she’s seated comfortably, you sit on the driver’s seat and lock the doors. “Miss,” your voice is stern as intended, “will you please tell me your business, or do I need to take you back to the station first?” “D-do I not have t-the right to remain silent?” You nod as you turn on your siren. “Well, the station it is.”

You haven’t driven too far from the spot of arrest when the woman cracks. “O-officer,” she calls to you, “I-I give up—look, I-I’ll confess.” You make a quick stop on the side of the road. “Yes?” From the rear-view mirror, you see that the woman lets go of her jacket, and you see the pile of items hidden underneath it.

“I-I took some stuff from a convenience store.” You try to stay focused despite her curves that have been exposed to your eyes. “Those are daily necessities, aren’t they, miss?” She nods. “I-I don’t have money, sir, s-so I took them.” “You’re aware that it’s a crime, aren’t you?” She nods again. “P-please, officer, I-I need these things.” You sigh as you think about—wait, what is there to think about? It’s obvious that she has committed a crime. “Look, let’s get to the station first—we can talk more there.” “No, no, no—officer, please!”

You’re surprised to see that the woman has taken off her cap and mask. “Huh, I’ve seen you somewhere,” you mindlessly comment, “wait, you’re Kang Seulgi—you’re a celebrity, aren’t you?” The woman promptly breaks eye contact. “I-I was, officer; m-my agency went bankrupt.” “So, you had to shoplift to get stuff?” She nods. “I-I’m sorry, I-I should’ve known better.” You palm your forehead, oddly stressed about the fact that a celebrity (formerly, as she claims) has committed theft for such simple items.

“Can you keep a secret, Miss Kang, because I’m about to put my career on the line for you.” You’re a little startled when you feel her wrapping her arms around you from the back seat. “Of course I can, officer; I swear on everything that I’ll keep this between you and me.” You chuckle, and it might have come across as suspicious. “You don’t even know what I’m about to do, do you?” “W-well, that’s true,” she takes a moment to think, “y-you’re not going to rape me, are you, officer?” You’ve never heard something that absurd in your life before, especially in your career in the police force. “No, I’m not—are you out of your mind?”

You turn your head to the side so that you can see her in your peripheral vision. “We’re going to go back to the store and return those items,” you start, “after that, we’re going to go to another store, and I’ll buy you whatever you need.” Seulgi wraps her arms more tightly around you. “Yes, officer—thank you so much!”

You start driving again when Seulgi lets go of the hug. “I’m so fucking cooked,” you think, “can’t believe I’d see a celebrity shoplift.” “Officer,” you hear her say, “c-can I ask what your name is?” You nod. “Kang Hyunwoo, Criminal Investigation,” you briefly introduce yourself, “my family knows me better as Aiden, though; I’m of foreign descent, you see.” “We have the same last name?” You nod again. “That’s how it’s intended for us.”

-

Before long, you arrive at the store Seulgi stole from. “Wait here, okay?” You don’t wait for an answer and hop out of the car with the stolen goods in your hands. “Excuse me, excuse me,” you say as you make your way towards the front of the line. “Hello, my name is Kang Hyunwoo from the Metropolitan Police,” you introduce yourself to the staff, “I’m not too familiar with your system, but I’m here to return the stolen items.” The staff thanks you for your help and tries giving you a shopping voucher, but you politely decline. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” you say.

 You quickly return to your car, and you’re glad to see that Seulgi didn’t drive away with your government-issued car. “You know, officer,” she says, “it was bold of you to leave a criminal alone in a running car—I could’ve driven away.” You chuckle. “I trust you more than I’d like to admit, Seulgi-yah.”

It is when you get in your seat that you realize that you might have been too friendly with her. “Anyway,” you clear your throat, “we still have some business at the station.” Seulgi’s face turns sour. “I-I thought you were going to buy me some stuff?” “Sorry, but that was a bait.” Seulgi gulps to swallow the anxiety that’s stuck in her throat. “C-can you just not let me go?” You shake your head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Daddy, please.”

You immediately turn your head towards her. “What did you just say?” “Please don’t turn me in, daddy,” she puts quite the emphasis on the name, thus making your jaw drop. “What the fuck are you talking about—why are you calling me that?” Seulgi takes off her jacket, thus exposing the tight-fit top that she’s wearing and showing you her perfect curves. “Give me a chance to change your mind, daddy—it’ll be worth your time, I swear.” “You’re not giving up your body to escape the law, are you?” Seulgi leans closer towards you, giving you a peek into her cleavage. “No, daddy; I’m giving up my body for you.”

“Goodness me,” you think. You’re oddly and seriously debating whether you’d turn a blind eye to crime in favor of sleeping with the criminal who happens to be a celebrity. “You’re dangerous, Miss Kang.” Seulgi shakes her head in protest. “Stop talking so formally, daddy; I’m yours for tonight, y’know.” You’re so unfocused that you press the ignition button again and shut off the running car. “Heh, I can tell when a guy is sold on an idea.” With red cheeks, you turn on the car again and immediately start driving. “We’re going to my place, baby.” “Oh, that’s exactly what I want, daddy—you’re going to take me to your place and fuck me until the sun rises again.”

-

“Wear your cap and jacket again, Seulgi-yah,” you’ve dropped the formality with her, “wouldn’t want to be seen running around with a cop, would you?” Seulgi looks at you blankly, making you confused. “Yes?” She shakes her head. “Nothing.” She puts on her identity concealment instruments as you’ve requested and follows you towards your apartment.

Seulgi quickly lets out a wow as she enters your apartment. “What a nice apartment.” You chuckle. “I’m sure a celebrity like you lives in a better place than this.” “I used to—not anymore, though,” she corrects you. “Fallen from grace, huh?” You say it with your back turned around, so you miss the way Seulgi’s face turns sour when she hears your words, only catching it when you look at her again.

You move to stand in front of her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” Seulgi shows you a pretty smile. “It’s okay; I got what you meant.” She tries to hug you but gets confused when she doesn’t feel the shape of your body, thus tapping your body to figure out what’s wrong. “There’s some equipment underneath my jacket, baby,” you let the name slip out. Seulgi chuckles. “Yeah, should’ve thought about that first.”

You step away from her so that you can take off your jacket, and when it’s off, Seulgi can see your handgun and a pair of handcuffs that you keep on each side of the shoulder holster. “Ah, so those were in the way,” she says, and you simply nod is response. “Let me sort this out first, and then I’ll come back to you, okay?”

You unload your firearm and put it in the safe along with the magazine after making sure there is no bullet in the chamber. After that, you hang your jacket and holster on the wall hooks behind the bedroom door.

“Alright, so, what now?” You invite Seulgi to sit on the sofa. “You’re here right now because you want to escape the law, and to do that, you want to offer your body to me,” you don’t bother sugarcoating your words. “You don’t have to be so crass, though,” she says in a sad tone. You slowly reach for her knee, placing your hand on it. “I’m sorry; I’ve never been good with words.”

Your heart jumps a little when Seulgi places her hand on yours. “I wish we could talk—y’know, about ourselves.” “I mean, we can,” you say, “I’m off-duty right now, so at the moment, this is your safe space, and you’re safe with me.” She lets out a chuckle. “Didn’t you try to arrest me just minutes ago?” You also let out a chuckle. “Well, that was Officer Kang Hyunwoo from the Metropolitan Police—at this moment, I’m just 32-year-old Kang Hyunwoo.” “Oh, you’re 32? My group’s leader is 33,” she says. You laugh. “I know—I mean, your group was famous.”

Joyfulness disappears from Seulgi’s face, and in turn, it disappears from yours as well. “Unnie would be so disappointed if she heard about this.”  “I wish you hadn’t tried all that, and I’m not saying this as a law enforcer.” “What was I supposed to do, though? Should have I just asked someone to buy stuff for me?” “Honestly, I would’ve bought those things for you.”

Your heartrate jumps again when Seulgi puts her head on your shoulder. “Will you date me?” Her question doesn’t help you calm down. “S-sorry?” “I promise I’ll be a good girl for you, oppa,” she pulls out a new endearment for you. You fight the hesitation in your head and wrap an arm around her shoulder. “I have no question that you’re a good girl, but don’t you think you deserve someone better?" “Are you not a good person, oppa?” “I think I’m alright—I’m not perfect, you know.” “We can’t chase perfection in this world, oppa, especially when it comes to falling in love.”

It doesn’t take too much to make up your mind. “So, girlfriend, hey?” Seulgi grins. “I mean, I could be yours if you’d let your guard down and let me enter your heart.” You take a few deep breaths as you get ready to say this sentence that your brain has come up with, and with every second passing, you can feel conviction filling your head rather rapidly.

“I love you.”

You’ve never been so nervous to say such a short sentence before.

“Say it again?”

“I love you, baby—I love you with all my heart.”

Seulgi lifts her head off your shoulder and looks at you in the eyes. “I love you too, oppa, and thank you for the sweet words.”

You hesitantly reach for her chin, hoping that she’ll let you kiss her. “I know what you want, oppa.” She slaps your hand away and comes in quickly for a kiss, and right now, all you can think about is how soft her lips are.

Seulgi finds your hand without looking and guides it towards her tits. “Touch me here,” she softly whispers, and you’re eager to do just that. The cream top she’s wearing is so soft to the touch, and combine that with her perfect-sized tits, it feels like you’re dreaming—never in your life have you ever thought about being able to do this with someone like her.

Having had enough of your lips, Seulgi breaks the tangle. “Oppa,” she calls to you, “promise me this isn’t a one-night thing.” You shake your head, but gesture alone isn’t enough for Seulgi as she demands a verbal answer. “No, baby, it’s not a one-night stand; I want to be with you until you’re sick of me.” She laughs. “I won’t get sick of you ever, oppa, so we’ll stay together forever.” You peck her on the lips. “I like the sound of that, baby.”

Seulgi moves to sit on your lap; her crotch is grinding right against yours but blocked by the pants that each of you are wearing. “You know,” she says, “you’re so fucking hot—so fucking manly.” You laugh internally, because what does she mean you’re “manly.” “You’re so fucking hot too, baby.” “Yeah, oppa?” You’re getting hard as Seulgi grinds her crotch against yours. “Shit, haven’t you looked at yourself in the mirror?” She smirks, satisfied with your answer. “I wonder how you’ll react when I’m naked, oppa.” “Then let’s find out, baby,” you whisper right into her ear.

As horny as you are, you don’t forget to ask for consent if you can take her to the bedroom, and only after she says yes that you lift her by her thighs and make your way there. “Do you sleep with girls often, oppa?” You shake your head. “I haven’t gotten in a relationship in years, actually.” “You must have a huge load for me, huh?” “You know it, baby.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed with Seulgi on your lap. “Hey, baby,” your tone is relaxed and soft, “look, before we start—” She interrupts you by placing a finger on your lips. “I consent, I want to be with you, and I love you.” You chuckle. “Well, that will do the trick.”

Seulgi lets her jacket fall onto the floor, and only now that you can see her curves properly. “My fucking God,” you exclaim, “fuck, I wish I had the words for this.” “I’m not even naked yet.” “Yeah, well, what are you waiting for?” She slaps your chest lightly. “I’m waiting for you to shut up.”

Your jaw drops when Seulgi takes off her top; her tummy looks so firm, her tits that are covered in black tight bra look so soft and full, and her neck looks like the perfect spot for hickeys. “God damn,” you wipe the drool off your lips, “aren’t you God’s most perfect creation.” She slaps you in the chest again. “Normally, I wouldn’t tolerate someone talking about me like that, but you’re my exception tonight.” Your eyes that have been roaming wildly all over her body shift to meet hers. “Just tonight? I thought we wanted to keep seeing each other?” “Well, actually,” she puts up a finger, “whether we can see each other again will depend on your, erm, performance.”

You have Seulgi sit on the bed so that you can undress. “My performance, huh?” You can see a mix of excitement and nervousness in her face. “I’ll show you.” You quickly get rid of your clothes, thus allowing Seulgi to have a look at the excellent physique you’ve maintained for God-knows-how-long. “Goodness me,” she bites her bottom lip sexily, “so that’s what you’ve been hiding from me.”

Seulgi stands closely in front of you and places her hands on your shoulders. “May I?” You express your consent with a nod, and that is when she begins running her hands all over your torso. “Do these girls know that you’re this sexy, because they’re missing out big time.” You chuckle. “I’m the sole reason that I’m not in a relationship—those women out there have nothing to do with it.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

Seulgi’s eyes land on your cock. “Oh, speaking of big,” she reaches for the half-erect, half-limp shaft that’s dangling between your legs. “Say, how many girls have you torn in half with this, oppa, hm?” You laugh as your ego inflates. “You’d be the second.” It’s Seulgi’s turn to laugh. “You’re underestimating me if you think that I won’t be able to take you.”

Your heart beats faster when Seulgi kneels in front of you while her hands are still wrapped around your cock. “Oh, this will be a tight fit,” she comments. Before taking you in her mouth, she stretches her mouth first, making these funny expressions as she does. She catches you grinning and hits you on the thigh. “Don’t.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I know that face—that’s the I-can’t-wait-to-fuck-this-girl face.” You shrug. “I mean, can you blame me?”

Seulgi doesn’t answer your question with words and instead parts her mouth to let your cock in, and the first contact makes your knees weak. “Oh, God, baby,” you’re running out of breath already. You gasp sharply when more of your shaft enters her mouth, and it’s getting really difficult to stay upright. You feel her soft hands on your thighs as she fights her gag reflex to get as much of your length in her mouth as she can.

The gurgling sound that enters your ears when Seulgi removes you from her mouth is nasty but arousing. “D-did you like that, daddy?” You nod feebly. “You want to fuck my face, or no?” You take a few deep breaths to collect yourself. “No, baby; I don’t want to do it rough on our first date.” Seulgi shows you this gorgeous combination of lip and eye smile that you’re seeing for the first time tonight. “That’s sweet of you.”

You pull her onto her feet and invite her to lie in bed with you. “Can I ask how many guys have been rough with you?” “One,” she says. “I hope it wasn’t on your first date.” She smiles a little. “It was, but not on the first round.” You stay silent as your eyes are locked with hers. “What’s wrong, oppa?” The smile on your face is a gentle one. “I just can’t see myself going hard on you, baby; I feel like you deserve soft sex all the time.”

Seulgi rubs your face gently. “That’s sweet, but you have nothing to worry about; I can take whatever you send my way.” “Vanilla is what I’m sending your way tonight, baby.” Seulgi chuckles, and the way it hits your face makes you shiver. “You’re going to make me cry if you keep talking like that.” You place a hand on her cheek and rub it with your thumb. “I swear on everything I have, baby, that you’ll be crying for all the right reasons with me.”

“I’ll hold you to that, my love.”

With a warm heart, you pull her into a kiss, and you wholeheartedly hope that Seulgi can feel the tender love you have for her.

“Take me, love; make me yours,” she whispers softly. You roll over so that you’re on top of her. “Your pants are in the way,” you crack a little joke, and you’re successful in making her laugh. “Do something about it, please—pretty please?” “Oh, you’re pretty, alright.”

You move backwards a bit until her crotch is right in front of your face. “May I?” “Yes, you may.” You unlatch the metal button of her pants and undo the zipper. You then continue to drag her pants down her legs until they’re properly off. Seulgi also cooperates by taking off her panties—that has a wet spot in the center—herself.

You give her pussy a little peck (thus earning a cute little moan) before returning to your previous position on top of her. “Show me how much you love me.” You peck her on the lips once. “Gladly, baby.”

With your cock in one hand, you guide yourself to enter her warm pussy, and Seulgi immediately lets out a long moan because of the first contact. “You make me feel like this is my first time, oppa.” “With me, this is your first time, and I’ll be your last because you’re not leaving me ever.” “Are you that sure about us?” “Yes, baby, so God help me.”

You see that Seulgi’s dams are threatening to burst, so before it does, you distract her by pushing your cock deep into her. “I’ll be the best girlfriend for you, oppa—no one else deserves me like you do.” You silence her with a soft shush. “Let’s focus on us right now, baby.”

Seulgi holds you tightly, locking you in place close to her but still gives you enough space to keep moving your hips. She wants to express how safe and loved she feels in your arms, but her lips are busy moaning. “I know you can’t hear me, but I love you,” her heart says. “I know you can’t hear me, but I want to be with you for a long, long time.” A particularly deep thrust disrupts her train of thoughts, making her hide her face in the crook of your neck. “I love you, Kang Hyunwoo—I love you so much.”

At one point in her life, Seulgi heard that the heart controls the mind, and the mind controls the body. Right now, all her heart wants is to show you just how much she appreciates you—how much she appreciates this new relationship that she’s building with you. Without too much convincing, her mind agrees with the idea and, in turn, signals to her body that she’s highly enjoying this hot sensuality you’re offering her.

“L-love,” she calls to you, “I-I won’t last long.” “That’s fine, baby.” Your deep voice in which your reply is said sends goosebumps all over her body. “I don’t want you to last too long anyway,” she hears you say. “Y-you don’t?” Seulgi feels a sudden peck on her lips. “You finishing early would mean that you could feel my love, and that’s what I’m aiming for right now.”

Seulgi’s moans become more frequent as she inches closer to the checkered line. “Love me, oppa—love me, love me,” she chants into your ears. She gets ecstatic when the pace of your thrusts grows faster. “Yes, just like that, oppa.”

“Can you feel that?”

"Damn right I can.”

“Then give it to me, oppa; I deserve it.”

“Oh, yes, you do.”

Seulgi is the first one to crack, announcing her orgasm with a scream from the top of her lungs. “Oh, what an amazing girl,” you praise her while petting her head gently. “You’re such an amazing girl, aren’t you, baby?” She keeps squirming around in your arms as she rides the high of orgasm, moaning freely as she does.

You keep whispering sweet words as you wait for her to calm down, and finally, after what felt like forever, she’s now able to speak coherently again. “I-I love you,” she’s out of breath now, “I-I want no one else but you.” You spray kisses all over her sweaty face. “I love you more, baby.” Seulgi giggles a little. “Y-you’ll give me your load if you really love me.” “One second, baby; let’s calm down first.”

Soon, Seulgi signals that she’s ready to help you get to the finish line and asks that you resume your thrusts. “Don’t forget to cum inside, love.” Initially, you hesitate, but she repeats the line, and it’s clear that you have no other option. “As you wish, baby.”

Apparently, you were only a few pumps away from orgasm, thus busting deep into her after a handful of them. “Oh, fuck, that’s so warm.” You hit her cheek very, very gently. “No profanity during vanilla, please.” “S-sorry, b-but you’re so warm in me, love.” You kiss her fleetingly. “That’s just how much I love you.”

-

“The court hereby orders the defendant to pay 200.000 in fine and do 10 hours of community service.” The judge slams her hammer on the round pad repeatedly, thus officially passing the sentence for Seulgi’s crime that thankfully has been deemed as minor after considering the severity of it and her previously clean record. “The officer may escort the defendant out of the courtroom.”

You make your way towards your girlfriend as she stands up and place a hand on her cuffs. “Time to go, miss,” you whisper. Seulgi simply nods and starts walking to wherever you’re taking her.

You see that there’s an empty room on the first floor of the courthouse, so you open the door and enter with Seulgi. You take your hat off and put it on the table while she takes a seat on one of the available chairs. “Love, I can’t pay that,” you can already hear the anxiety and fear in her voice, “shit, had I had money, I wouldn’t have stolen.”

There’s no CCTV in this room, but there are see-through glass panes on the wall to your right, so you can’t touch her no matter how much you want to.

“I have money, baby.” You’re sure that Seulgi understands what you’re talking about.

“B-but I can’t do that.”

“You either take my money or go to jail for failing to pay—the choice is yours.”

It doesn’t take long for Seulgi to make up her mind.

“Erm, I-I’ll take your money; I don’t think I have other options.”

Now that the two of you have come to an agreement, you ask Seulgi to stand up again so that you can take her to the bank to pay her fine. You maintain character from the moment you exit the little meeting room until you’re hidden in the privacy of the police Sonata you’re assigned to.

“So, here’s the game plan, baby,” you start, “I will give you this card, and you’ll withdraw 200.000 and use it to pay the fine.” You don’t see her reaching out a hand, and that is when you remember that her hands are still cuffed behind her back. “Oh, I forgot about that—I’ll let you go when we get to the bank, okay?” Seulgi laughs. “I was starting to think that you had a bondage kink.” You look away to hide your smirk. “Maybe we’ll find out soon.”

-

After a short drive, you arrive at the bank with Seulgi.

You look at her through the rear-view mirror; with her wrists restrained behind her back, you have unrestricted view of her plump tits that you love so much. “I know you’re looking at my tits, you pervert,” she calls you out and sticks out her tongue in playful mockery. “You know I can’t keep my hands off the cookie jar.”

You get out of the car and open Seulgi’s door—wait, why does she look weak?

“You alright?”

She shakes her head, and you can’t help but scratch your head in confusion.

“I need some vitamin D, and I’m not talking about the substance.”

“Then let’s go in there, pay this God damn fine, and go home, hm?”

“I can’t,” she shifts a little to show you her bound wrists, “daddy is tying me down.”

You pinch her on the thigh.

“Let’s not play around too much right now, Miss Kang.”

After freeing Seulgi from the cuffs, you hand her your card and head inside, and you almost forgot that you can’t be seen holding hands with her while you're in uniform.

“Good afternoon,” Seulgi greets the staff member, “my name is Kang Seulgi, and I’m here to pay a fine.” The staff asks Seulgi about some things to confirm her identity and the sum that needs to be paid, and after everything is verified, Seulgi hands your card to the staff so that the payment can be processed. After a brief moment, “The payment has been verified, and this is your receipt.” From where you’re standing, you notice the way Seulgi’s body relaxes as she takes the receipt and card from the staff. “Thank you.”

Seulgi sighs deeply in relief and offers her wrists to be cuffed again, but at this point, it’s no longer necessary—in fact, it hasn’t been necessary since you left the courthouse, but she doesn’t know that. “You’re free to go, Miss Kang,” you say, back in character. “Oh, really? Is that it?” You nod. “Aside from the community service, you are now a free woman.”

Seulgi asks you to follow her outside, and it appears that she wants to get back in the car for some privacy.

“Love,” she calls to you from the back seat, “thank you for everything, seriously.” You smile gently. “Of course, baby; now promise me that you won’t steal again, okay? Come to me whenever you need anything, and I mean anything.”

Your heart is promptly filled with warmth when she hugs you from behind. “Never thought I’d date a cop, but here I am.” You chuckle. “I bet you thought that you’d end up with some rich guy.” “No,” she denies, “those guys are fake; they probably just want my money or my body.” “I mean, you do have a body that guys would kill just to have a chance to lay with you.” “Yeah, well, they’re not getting me ever—I’m yours now, remember?”

-

Usually, you have nothing to be excited about or look forward to when you get home after a shift, but now that you have Seulgi living with you full time, you’re always excited to go home, and it is no different today.

The way your heart is beating with excitement has your finger trembling as you enter the passcode to your apartment, and when you open the door, you’re instantly met with your girlfriend who has the beautiful grin and eye smile that you adore so much.

“Welcome home, love!” Seulgi greets you with open arms, and you waste little time to fill the space between them. “How was your day?” You let out a deep sigh to show how tired you are. “It was pretty exhausting, actually; I had to train shooting and worked out after that.” Seulgi turns her head to the side and gestures at the kitchen. “I may have some food for you.”

Seulgi drags you towards the dining table, thus showing you the table that has two bowls of tteokbokki on it. Based on how it’s presented, you estimate that she must’ve cooked this herself. “Oh my, thanks a lot, baby.” She gets on her tippy toes to peck you on the forehead. “Thank you for coming home—your timing was perfect, by the way.” “I’ve heard that before in my life.”

Seulgi pulls back a chair for you to sit on. “Let’s eat quickly, love, and then we’ll talk.” Your heart rate spikes for a moment. “Am I in trouble?” She shrugs. “I don’t know—are you?” “I don’t think so, but maybe I’ve missed something.”

You stare blankly at the bowl in front of you as you try to figure out if you’ve done anything wrong. Currently, there are two things in your head that might be the reason why she’s unhappy: you forgot to buy some eggs and instant noodles that she had asked for yesterday, and on the following morning, you rejected her offer to do a quick one.

Seulgi saves you from drowning in your own thoughts by placing her hands on yours. “Hey, now,” her voice is so soft, “I was just playing, love; you’re not actually in trouble. “I’ll buy you those eggs after this,” you blurt, and the suddenness of it makes your girlfriend burst out laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about them.”

She picks up a piece of tteokbokki with her chopsticks and invites you to do the same, so you do just that. There’s a bit of unease in the back of your mind that leads you to scratching your nape. “Thank you,” are the first words that leave your lips, and those are enough to make Seulgi smile. “You’re welcome, love,” she replies.

Like a cat, you shake your head rather violently to get rid of unnecessary thoughts in your head, and with renewed focus, you’re ready to take a bite of tteokbokki that you already know will blow your socks off. “Oh, I really like this, baby; this is really good,” you praise the fruit of her work. Seulgi blushes a little. “You always say that to everything I cook for you.” “You know how easy it is to please me—give me anything edible and I’ll say it’s good.” “But not eggplant.” “Anything but eggplant, yes.”

-

Seulgi says she wants to get a shower before going to bed, so after washing dishes with you, she makes her way towards the bathroom. “Join me,” she says as she jogs towards her destination. “Gladly.” You take the chance to undress yourself and put your equipment away while she’s off doing her business in the bathroom.

The door to the bathroom isn’t shut all the way, so you simply push it open, and that is when you see Seulgi standing under the shower, water flowing freely on her curves from top to bottom. After stopping the flow of water, she makes a “come here” gesture at you, and you waste little time to get close to her. “My, aren’t you God’s most perfect creation,” she recites your words from the first meeting. “Is it safe to say that we’re going to completely spend our batteries tonight and wake up late tomorrow?” Seulgi laughs. “You rejected me yesterday, didn’t you, love?” You answer in the form of a nod. “So, this is your chance to make things right with me, and you may start now.”

You take a few steps forward, thus making Seulgi step backwards until she’s pressed against the wall. “Vanilla, baby?” “No, daddy.” The name makes it obvious what she wants from you. “Safe word?” “Teddy.” You reject her choice because it sounds too similar to the kinky name. “Cookie, then.”

After agreeing on the choice of safe word, you quickly lean in for a kiss to kick things off, and as usual, Seulgi places her hands on your shoulders. “Tell me, daddy—what’s in that head of yours?” It’s a habit between the two of you to share each other’s plans before the actual sex to make sure you and her are on the same page. “Tell me your ideas first, baby.” Seulgi puts a finger on her chin. “Hmm, let’s see,” you can see the gears in her head spinning, “what about locking my wrists together, daddy?” You’re immediately sold on the idea. “Let’s do it, then.”

Seulgi gets down on her knees. “First, feed me your cock, daddy.” You hold your cock in one hand. “Choo-choo, the meat train is coming through.” Seulgi, who initially had her mouth open to take your cock, bursts out laughing. “Meat train? Really?” You pout a little. “Just play along, please.” “You’re so funny sometimes, daddy.”

“Only some—oh, God, fuck.”

You let out a profanity when Seulgi suddenly puts your cock in her mouth. “Oh, God, that never gets old.” You try your hardest to breathe at a normal pace as she begins moving her head along your length, and this is where you start regretting your decision to reject her offer to have sex yesterday. “Are you trying to make me pay for saying no, baby?” You grit your teeth in pain when she bites your cock slightly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You notice that she’s starting to pick up the pace, so you put a hand on the back of her head to prevent her from hitting the wall. “Relax, baby; you’re going to make me bust if you don’t slow down.” She doesn’t listen to you and keeps the fast pace—at least that’s the case until the tip of your cock hits an odd spot in her throat, thus making her gag. As soon as you pull out of her mouth, Seulgi begins coughing violently. “You’re okay, baby,” you say repeatedly while petting her head softly.

“100 days together and I still can’t take you deep,” she says, seemingly disappointed in herself. “That’s okay; I’m not mad or anything like that,” you assure her, but it appears that she doesn’t want to hear it. “That doesn’t mean that I get to slack off,” she argues. You deny her attempt at taking you in her mouth for the second time by gripping her hair. “No, no, no, let’s have a timeout first.”

You leave Seulgi seated on the bathroom floor to get a towel to dry her body with. “You want to move, don’t you, daddy?” You nod. “You’re my girlfriend, so let me treat you the way you deserve to be treated.” Seulgi rarely blushes, but this is one of those times where she feels like she can’t help it. “Am I lucky to have you, daddy, or are you lucky to have me?” The question sounds like a test, but you still answer properly from the bottom of your heart. “From my perspective, it’s me that’s so lucky to have you. If you think that you’re lucky to have me, then that’s a huge honor for me.”

You sit in the center of the bed with Seulgi still in your arms and are ready to have sex, but it changes when she begins tearing up. “Are you okay, baby?” She fans her face with her hands to get herself together. “Oh, don’t worry; these are tears of joy.” You’re glad that your nails aren’t long because you’re now able to wipe her tears without worrying about scratching her. “I promised you that you’ll be crying for the right reasons, didn’t I, baby?”

“I-I don’t know if I can continue, daddy—I’m sorry,” she’s still unable to stop crying. You chuckle. “Tell me how I’m supposed to be rough with a softie like you, baby, hm?” “Well, y-you’re supposed to be mean and dominant.” “I can’t be mean to you, can I, my love?” The way you say the last two words must’ve triggered something in her heart, because her cries grow louder than before. “Oh, I’m so sorry—look, I’ll get you some ice cream, okay?”

You rush to the kitchen quickly to get a cup of strawberry ice cream for her, and when you return to the bedroom, Seulgi is curled up in the middle of the bed. “Seulgi-yah, my love,” you tap her thigh to get her attention, “do you want some?” “Y-yes.” Once she’s seated, you move to sit behind her and have her lean against your body. “Look at this, baby,” you open the lid for her, “it looks so tasty, don’t you think?” “A-and soft like me,” she adds.

You take a spoonful of ice cream and guide it to her waiting mouth, repeating it a few more times until Seulgi says stop. “You know,” she says, “I remember overhearing a guy talk about how he fantasized about fucking me hard like a cheap slut.” Your brain starts getting filled with anger, because what the fuck kind of fantasy is that. “Really?” She nods. “H-he said he’d tie me down and fuck my ass.” “I don’t mean to prod too much, but have you taken a penis in your ass?” Seulgi shakes her head. “I’m naughty but not that naughty.”

You feed her another spoonful of ice cream as you think about her words. “Can I ask who this guy was and how you overheard him?” “H-he was, erm, a fellow trainee, a-and I happened to be walking past a room he was in when he said it out loud.” You’re very baffled; if he was a fellow trainee, that means that he was around Seulgi’s age, and for someone that young to have that sort of fantasy sounds nasty. “He didn’t debut, did he, because there are many male celebrities from your old label.” Seulgi shakes her head again. “He didn’t make the final debut lineup.” Hearing her answer makes you let out the biggest sigh of relief in your recent memory.

You have a few sentences in your head that you hope will convince Seulgi that you’re not that type of person, but after the first sentence leaves your lips, she won’t let you continue. “I can tell from day one what type of person you are behind your façade.” You scratch your head in confusion. “Am I that easy to read?” She chuckles. “I’ll say that your book was a bit open.”

The ice cream has run out, but thankfully, Seulgi is no longer crying. You put the small wooden spoon in the empty cup and put them on the bedside table. “I hope I helped you feel better,” you say. “I mean, I wasn’t sad necessarily, but you did help a lot.” She moves to sit on your lap after freeing herself from your arms.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Seulgi grins, satisfied with your quick answer. “Are you down to make some promises?” “Let’s do it.”

Seulgi asks you to go first, so you say the first thing that comes up in your head. “Promise me that you won’t leave me when you’ve got back on your feet.” “Excuse me?” You sigh deeply. “You met me when you were in a rough spot, and I sincerely hope that you won’t leave me when… you know, you’re in a better situation—maybe when you get a job or something like that.” She holds your face with her soft hands. “No, I will never do you like that—I’m here right now because of you, love.” “So, you promise?” She nods rapidly to show seriousness, and seeing it warms your heart. “Thank you, baby.”

Seulgi looks away momentarily. “I had something in my head, but you threw me off.” You stay silent to see if she manages to find something for you. “Okay, how about this,” she says, “promise me that you’ll propose to me and make me yours.” Your eyebrows rise involuntarily. “Propose to you? Are you that sure—” “Yes,” she interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. “You’re law enforcement, so what better way is there for us other than to formalize our relationship in the eyes of the law?” The phrasing makes you want to laugh, but your brain manages to stifle you from actually laughing, citing inappropriate timing. With that, your response is, “We’ll work on it, love.”

Seulgi quickly shifts to get on her knees in front of you. “Fuck everyone else; I’m the only one for you, and you’re the only one for me.” You rub her cheek gently. “What are you talking about, love?” Instead of answering your question, she repeats her line. “Love, seriously, what are you talking about?” “My ex,” her answer is a short one. “Why are you thinking about him?” She looks at you dead in the eyes, and you swear there is smoke coming out of her ears. “I’m not—if anything, I wish I could erase him from my memory.”

You don’t know how to react to that aside from saying that he’s completely irrelevant in your and Seulgi’s lives. “Please don’t bring him up again,” you say sternly. “Yes, daddy.”  She must be in the same head space as before when the two of you were in the bathroom. “Oh, you’re saying it again, huh?” She palms your limp cock. “You distracted me with that ice cream, but now I’m ready.” You run a thumb on her cheek. “You were literally in tears and said you couldn’t continue—how could I have ignored that?” “Yeah, well, that’s now in the past,” she deflects, “let’s focus on the here and now, daddy.”

Seulgi crawls backwards until your cock is right in front of her eyes. “Oh, you’re so hard already.” “How can I not when my beautiful wife is naked in front of me like this?” She grins. “I’m your wife?” “Yes, you are—also, it’s not like there’s anyone else in this room, is it?” “There’s no one else in this room aside from the two of us, and there’s no one else in my life aside from you, daddy.”

Without breaking eye contact, Seulgi eases your cock into her mouth, wasting little time to start things off. She then grabs your hand and places it on the back of her head. “Ah, of course, how could I forget?” You start petting her head gently. “You like this, don’t you, baby?”

You make sure the praises keep flowing out of your lips without obstruction as your soon-to-be wife moves her head back and forth along your shaft. “God, you’re amazing at this, baby.” Enticed by your words and the pets on the back of her head, Seulgi picks up the pace, thus filling the bedroom with slurps and other sounds that escape her mouth that only add to your arousal. “I’m starting to think that you like my dick more than that ice cream,” you quip.

Before long, Seulgi removes you from her mouth to come up for air. “You know, I’m curious what it’d be like if I could take your whole dick in my mouth.” You take a rough measurement of your cock with your palm and estimate how far your cock would go. “The tip would be in your throat, baby.” She licks her lips, curious about how that would feel like. “Can I try?” You shake your head. “I don’t want to suffocate you with my penis,” you reason.

You invite Seulgi to sit on your lap after closing your thighs, but instead of simply straddling them like you hoped, she puts your cock in her pussy first before actually sitting on your lap, thus forcing the two of you to moan in reflex. “You like that, daddy?” “How can I not when you’re this tight?” Seulgi rewards your good answer with a fleeting kiss. “At what age do you think we’ll stop having sex, daddy?” You shrug. “I don’t know—60, maybe?” “I doubt it; with your physique, you’d be able to fuck me until we’re 80.”

You want to say something else, but your train of thoughts got derailed when Seulgi starts moving her hips. “I-I’ll stay tight for you, daddy, even if we have a lot of children.” “I don’t doubt it,” you’re getting breathy.

Without command, Seulgi picks up the pace to the maximum that she can do, her sexy moans flying out her lips without rest. It is when you take her tits in your hands that her moans get louder. “S-suck them, p-please.” You do as she asks and put one breast in your mouth while stimulating the other with your hand. “Yes, like that, daddy—suck my tits like our future children would.”

It's not fair for you to only stimulate one breast, so you let go of the first one to make room for the other. You keep sucking until you notice that Seulgi slows down. In retaliation, you lightly bite and pinch her nipples. “Oh, God, don’t do that,” she jolts, “l-look, I-I’ll start again.”

Seulgi eventually pushes you away from her plump breasts and falls backwards onto the bed. “I-I’m tired—y-you’ll need to fuck me this time,” she says between heavy pants. You don’t bother waiting for her to calm down, opting to start again right away to ensure maximum stimulation.

Initially, you’re holding Seulgi by her legs as you’re thrusting into her, but as time goes on, you’re starting to fold her legs over her body. “Fuck me, daddy—fuck me nice and fast,” she eggs you on. You fasten your grip on her ankles as you prepare to give her your absolute everything, and not too long after you’ve started, Seulgi is reduced to moans and screams as her eyes are rolling backwards.

All you can think about right now is how wet and tight— “D-daddy,” she snaps you out of your horny trance, “I, I—c-cum, daddy.” You quickly pull out of her pussy and aggressively rub her clit, thus making her scream. “D-daddy,” her orgasm is getting so close, “I-I’m—your fingers, daddy, fuck!” “Cum, baby; cum for daddy,” you urge her.

With an ear-piercing scream, Seulgi explodes, soaking the bed with her juice. Once she’s done squirting, you drag her around and position her until her legs are dangling off the edge of the bed. “You want to be tied?” Seulgi nods slightly. “Then tied you will be.” You grab a pair of handcuffs from your equipment holster and lock her wrists together with them. “Are you ready to go again, though?” She nods again. “Fuck me, papi.” Hearing the new name makes you chuckle. “One day, we’ll sit down and talk about our kinks, okay?”

Seulgi moans when your shaft enters her again and screams when your palm lands on her butt. “You’re fucking naughty, aren’t you?” “Y-yes, officer.” You spank her once more. “That’s inspector to you, Miss Kang—or papi, like you said yourself.”

You fix your hands on her waist as you fuck her tirelessly from behind, her butt cheeks bouncing around as your hips crash into them. You notice that her small, puckered ring keeps peaking at you every now and then, and an idea enters your mind: what if you put a finger in there?

You coat your thumb with spit to prepare it for a brave adventure to a brand-new world that is her asshole. Seulgi jolts when she feels your thumb in the entrance of her forbidden hole. “D-daddy, gently, please,” she begs, but instead of getting an assurance that you’ll indeed be gentle, she gets a spank on the butt instead. “You’re mine, slut.” You feel a tinge of guilt for calling her with such a pejorative name, but you’re half certain that she’ll understand considering the current situation.

Seulgi grits her teeth as her asshole stretches to accommodate your thumb. “How are we feeling?” “G-good—oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” She begins squirming around when she feels your thumb moving in and out of her asshole. You don’t give her a chance to breathe as you opt to start fucking her again with your thumb still stuck in her ass.

Amidst her endless moans, a thought enters Seulgi’s mind: should she let you fuck her ass?

“Maybe I should.”

“Fuck, it’ll hurt so bad, though.”

“So what? He’ll be the first and last.”

“But he’ll stretch me like crazy.”

“Let him claim you.”

Her conversation with herself ends when she feels that your thumb is no longer lodged in her ass. She gathers her strength to turn her head towards you to look at you. “D-daddy,” her voice is barely heard.

“Yes, baby?” You couldn’t hear what she just said, so you lean forwards and ask her to say it again. “F-fuck my ass, daddy.”

Your eyes widen in shock; did she just ask to be fucked in the ass?

“You’re a virgin there, though, no?” Your answer is some feeble nods. “I-I couldn’t bleed for you, s-so claim my ass a-and make me yours.”

You pull out of her pussy so that you can address this further. “Baby, you know I have no problem with not being your first.” “J-just do it, daddy—l-let me show you exactly h-how much I love you.” “Are you sure?” “Y-yes,” she answers briefly. You ask once more and get the same answer, so you know that her mind is made up. “Safe word?” “C-cookie,” it appears that she hasn’t forgotten it. “Alright, let’s do it, then.”

It is when you’re back in your previous position that you realize you need something to make it hurt less for Seulgi. An idea pops in your head: “Her pussy will be able to coat me,” you think. You plunge into her pussy again and pump a few times until your cock is shiny because of her juice. For extra measure, you also coat your cock with a lot of spit.

“I’m ready, baby—are you?” She nods. “Claim me,” she repeats. “Stop saying it like that,” you protest. “J-just give it to me, please.”

Seulgi gasps when the tip of your cock touches her puckered ring. “Gently, love—I’m begging you,” she begs, changing the callout name for good measure. She inhales sharply when the tip of your cock stretches her virgin ass. “Please be gentle,” her voice starts to crack, and it’s understandable, too; this is her first time after all.

You push forwards into her pussy every odd second to not hurt her even more. Seulgi turns her head towards you, thus showing you the pooling tears in her eyes. “P-please tell me I’m doing well,” she says. “You are, baby; you’re doing so well right now,” you assure her, your hips still. It hurts your heart seeing your beloved woman be in tears like that, but it was her idea to give her ass to you, her beloved man, with whom she wants to have a life with.

“Love, take me.”

 Using her urge as fuel, you begin moving your hips back and forth, thus properly and officially taking her anal virginity.

“Does it hurt so bad still?” “Y-yes, b-but it’s fine—t-this is what I want,” Seulgi deflects. You take a few deep breaths to focus your mind on the task. “Alright, I’ll try moving now, okay?”

You maintain this relaxed pace as Seulgi’s muscles adapt to your intrusion, and slowly but surely, moans begin streaming out of her lips. “That’s better, love.” You place your hands on her butt cheeks to caress them. “You’re incredibly tight, baby.” “T-that’s—AH!” A particular thrust makes Seulgi scream. “T-that’s your proof that I-I’m a virgin there.” “I never asked for proof, but thank you, my love.”

Your orgasm approaches at an alarming rate with every thrust of your hips. On one hand, you’re happy, because it means that Seulgi won’t have to suffer for too long. On the other, you’re worried that she’ll be disappointed by your performance tonight. There is one way to make sure, and that is to simply ask. “Love, can I cum?” She nods. “S-sooner than later, please, daddy.” “Brace yourself, baby—feel free to tap out, though.”

After delivering a warning, you pick up the speed, fucking her ass fast like it was her pussy, and Seulgi immediately sinks her face into the bed to muffle her voice. You instinctively spank her, thus forcing another scream from her, but regret it right away. “Fuck, sorry, baby; force of habit,” you say, apologetic.

You can feel the way your cock is throbbing in her ass—orgasm must be very close. “Baby, I’m—” “Do it, daddy—f-fill my ass.” “Alright, okay.”

You leave the entirety of your cock lodged in her ass as you blow semen deep into it, thus officially marking the end of this painful first-time. After you’re done filling her, you retreat out of her ass, and after blinking a few times, her asshole properly closes, locking your cum inside.

You grab the cuffs’ key so that you can unlock them, and after she’s free, you flip Seulgi onto her back and pull her into an embrace. “It hurt, didn’t it, love?” “Y-yes, but I’m yours now.” You put on a gentle smile for her. “Thank you so much, love—I love you.”

-

You’re back in bed after a long shower with Seulgi, and what’s left for you to do is to take care of her, which consists of several non-skippable steps.

First, you hold her tightly.

Second, you say, “Love, thank you so much, seriously,” to express gratitude and appreciation.

Third, you come in for a kiss—one that is passionate to support your words.

“Don’t leave me now, love.” “How can I leave you when I’m so in love with you?” Seulgi lets out a tiny chuckle. “Are you in love with me or my body?” The question offends you a touch. “Surely you don’t think that low of me.”

Seulgi shuffles around rather wildly. “Are you okay?” She huffs in frustration. “You’re not close enough.” You laugh. “Our skin is literally touching, baby.” “No, not enough.”

Seulgi mounts your lap and puts your semi-hard cock in her pussy. “Oh, there we go.” You tease her by thrusting upwards but earn a slap on the chest in response. “Don’t—I’m already so sore.” “Are we sleeping like this, then?” She nods against your cheek. “If you wake up first tomorrow, feel free to fuck me and cum inside.”

You chuckle. “That’d be a crazy way to start the day.”

[shawtuzi]

request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’

i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(

‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’

you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.

toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.

you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.

“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”

you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.

toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.

you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.

“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.

toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.

the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.

“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.

you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i—”

“just shush toji.”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.

“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.

“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.

the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.

toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.

“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.

“s’nothin.”

“liar.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.

“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.

toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.

you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.

“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.

you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.

“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”

i like you too toji.

toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.

“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.

after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.

“lemme clean you up.”

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Second Chance - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve tried to get you back, but it's not always easy to gain back the trust one loses.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Warning: Angsts, like kind of a lot of it, injured character, but nobody dies. A bit of fluff with a happy ending.

Words: 9 224

AN: So, sweet anon asked about part two of Enough is Enough, and well, why the hell no :) I feel like shit (being sick isn't fun), so apologies x4 for any mistakes. My brain isn't braining...

Steve didn’t give up.

Steve’s first apology came in the form of flowers.

They arrived at the coffee shop just as you were opening. A delivery driver handed you the bouquet—a lush arrangement of white roses and baby’s breath, wrapped in soft tissue paper. For a moment, you just stared at them, the scent of fresh blossoms mingling with the familiar aroma of coffee beans. The card nestled within the bouquet bore only three words: I’m so sorry.

Your chest tightened. You didn’t have to wonder who sent them.

“Who’s the secret admirer?” your coworker teased, grinning as she wiped down the counter.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you set the bouquet aside, trying to push down the lump rising in your throat. It was a beautiful gesture—one you might have cherished once—but now it felt hollow.

The flowers kept coming. Every morning, a new arrangement would appear. Daisies, tulips, sunflowers. Each accompanied by a note in Steve’s handwriting: I miss you. I love you. Let me fix this.

You didn’t know how to feel. Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him the chance to make things right. But another part of you—the part still raw and aching—refused.

Then he started showing up.

The first time, you nearly dropped the coffee pot in your hand. He stood outside the shop, leaning against the lamppost with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets. He looked different—tired, almost haunted, as though the weight of your absence was something physical he carried with him.

You ignored him, focusing on your customers, but you could feel his presence like a shadow just beyond the glass. When you finally closed the shop, he was still there.

He said your name softly as you stepped outside, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t stop walking.

“Please,” he called after you, his tone desperate. “Just give me a chance to talk.”

You turned back, your jaw clenched. “Why now, Steve? Why couldn’t you talk to me when it mattered?”

His face crumpled, and for a brief moment, you felt a pang of guilt. But you shook it off and kept walking.

It didn’t deter him. Steve came back the next day, and the day after that, always waiting silently as you worked. It wasn’t until a week later that you finally confronted him.

“What do you want from me, Steve?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

His blue eyes searched yours, filled with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in months. “I want to make this right,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love you. I never stopped. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening with conflicting emotions. He looked so sincere, so heartbroken, that for a moment, you almost believed him. Almost.

“It’s too late,” you said finally, your voice barely audible. “You can’t fix this. I don’t trust you anymore.”

The pain in his eyes was like a physical blow, but you didn’t let it show. You turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, defeated.

But the truth was, you weren’t as strong as you seemed. Every step away from him felt like ripping a piece of yourself apart. By the time you got home, you were shaking, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed onto the couch.

You loved him. God, you still loved him. But love wasn’t enough anymore.

***

The days blurred together after that.

You went through the motions of your life—opening the coffee shop each morning, smiling at customers, making small talk with your coworkers—but it all felt mechanical, like a script you had memorized long ago. The warmth and joy that once fueled you were gone, replaced by an empty numbness you couldn’t seem to shake.

Nights were the worst.

Sleep eluded you, no matter how many hours you spent staring at the ceiling or tossing and turning under your blankets. The bed felt too big, too cold without him there. You hated yourself for missing him, for craving the comfort of his arms even after everything he’d done. But the longing wasn’t something you could control.

It wasn’t just the nights, though. Little things kept sneaking up on you, tearing at the fragile stitches holding you together.

The sight of his favorite mug on your kitchen counter. The book he’d borrowed but never finished, still sitting on your nightstand. The faint scent of his cologne that lingered on your favorite sweater, no matter how many times you washed it.

You tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked. Books, once your solace, couldn’t hold your attention. The words blurred together, and you’d find yourself reading the same sentence over and over without absorbing a single word.

Your friends noticed.

“You need to eat more,” one of them said during a group dinner you’d been forced to attend. She pushed a plate of pasta toward you, her brow furrowed with concern. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, picking at the food with a fork.

Kat wasn’t buying it. She leaned across the table, her sharp blue eyes cutting through your defenses. “You’re not fine. And we’re not going to pretend otherwise.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you had to blink back the sting of tears.

Steve’s friends noticed too. Sam popped into the coffee shop one morning, leaning casually against the counter as you took his order.

“You’re not sleeping,” he said matter-of-factly, his tone laced with concern.

You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice light. “Busy days, you know how it is.”

He didn’t press you further, but the look he gave you lingered long after he left.

***

The worst was when Steve came back.

It was late in the evening, just before closing, when he walked into the shop. You froze behind the counter, your heart leaping into your throat at the sight of him.

He looked just as broken as you felt. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was mussed like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. He lingered near the entrance, as if unsure whether he was welcome.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice hesitant.

You gripped the edge of the counter, steadying yourself. “We’re about to close.”

“I know,” he said, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides. “I just… I wanted to see you.”

You turned away, pretending to busy yourself with cleaning up. “You shouldn’t be here, Steve.”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening painfully. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you,” he said, his voice breaking. “And because I can’t stand knowing I hurt you like this.”

His words cracked something inside you, but you couldn’t let him see it. “You need to leave,” you said firmly, refusing to meet his eyes.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if hoping you might change your mind. But when you didn’t, he nodded, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

You watched him go, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the empty shop. And then you broke.

You sank to the floor, tears streaming down your face as the weight of your grief crushed you.

You loved him. God, you still loved him.

But you didn’t know how to let yourself forgive him.

***

You didn’t expect to find Bucky Barnes on your doorstep.

It was a gray Saturday morning, and the porch floor creaked under your weight as you aimlessly swept away fallen leaves. When you opened the door and saw him standing there, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets and his blue-gray eyes watching you carefully, you froze.

“Bucky?”

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual, though his expression betrayed a flicker of hesitation. “Mind if I come in?”

You hesitated. This was Steve’s best friend. Seeing him felt like reopening wounds that you’d been trying desperately to let heal. But there was no judgment in his gaze, no pressure—just concern. So, with a heavy sigh, you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter.

He stepped into the living room, glancing around like he was cataloging the space. You folded your arms, standing stiffly near the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, doll,” he teased, his lips quirking into a faint smirk.

“Bucky,” you said, your voice sharper now. “Why are you here?”

He sighed, the smirk fading. “I wanted to check on you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quickly. “I’m not with Steve anymore. There’s no obligation.”

He raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly as he leaned against the back of your couch. “Obligation? That’s not why I’m here, sweetheart. You’re my friend too. And whether or not you’re with Steve doesn’t change that.”

The softness in his tone made something crack inside you. You wanted to argue, to brush him off, but instead, you felt your defenses falter.

“Besides,” he continued with a wry grin, “someone’s gotta make sure you know not all men are idiots. Steve might be an amazing guy, but even amazing guys screw up sometimes.”

That last sentence hit you like a slap. You felt the tears coming before you could stop them, your vision blurring as all the emotions you’d been bottling up threatened to spill over. You turned away, trying to pull yourself together, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer. “Talk to me.”

That was all it took for the dam to break.

“I don’t know how to stop loving him,” you blurted, your voice trembling as the words spilled out in a rush.

Bucky froze, his expression softening as he watched the tears stream down your face. You sank onto the couch, your shoulders shaking, and he followed, sitting beside you without a word.

“I hate him for what he did,” you continued, your voice cracking. “I hate that he made me feel like I didn’t matter, like I was just… there. And now? Now he’s trying to fix it, like I’m supposed to just forget everything and let him back in.”

Bucky listened silently, his hands clasped together as you poured your heart out.

“It feels like a slap in the face,” you said, your chest heaving with each breath. “Like he thinks flowers and apologies will erase months of feeling invisible. I hate him for that. But more than anything, I hate that I still love him.”

You buried your face in your hands, your voice muffled as you added, “I don’t want to love him anymore. I want it to stop, Bucky. I want it all to stop.”

The room was quiet for a long moment. Then, Bucky sighed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Doll,” he said softly, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but loving him isn’t something to hate yourself for. Steve… he’s a complicated guy. He doesn’t always get things right, but I promise you, he loves you. More than you know.”

You shook your head, your voice shaking. “If he loved me so much, why did he treat me like that? Why did he make me feel like I didn’t matter?”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “You’re right. He screwed up. Big time. But… he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for years. It doesn’t excuse how he hurt you, but I’ve seen him lately, and he’s a wreck without you.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, your tears blurring the intensity in his gaze.

“He’s not good at showing it,” Bucky continued, “but he’s an amazing guy. I’ve known him my whole life, and I’ve seen him at his best and his worst. And I know he’ll never stop trying to make this right. The question is… would you ever let him? What would it take for you to let him back in?”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and unrelenting. You didn’t answer right away, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt as you stared down at the floor.

“I don’t know,” you whispered finally. “I don’t know if I can. It’s like… every time I see him, I remember how much it hurt. And even if I wanted to try again, I don’t know if I’d ever trust him not to hurt me like that again.”

Bucky reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said gently. “But whatever you choose, just know this: you deserve to be happy, sweetheart. Whether that’s with Steve or without him.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any trace of pity or judgment, but there was none. Just quiet understanding and unwavering support.

When he finally stood to leave, he gave you a small smile. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his voice steady. “And no matter what happens, I’m here. Steve or no Steve.”

You watched him go, his words echoing in your mind long after the door closed.

And for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe—just maybe—you could find a way forward.

***

The compound gym was almost empty, save for the quiet hum of machinery and the dull thud of fists meeting a punching bag. Steve Rogers stood at the far end of the room, his knuckles raw and his breathing ragged. He’d been at it for hours, his frustration and grief pouring into every swing, every strike. The bag swayed violently under the force of his hits, the chain creaking with each impact.

“You keep that up, and you’ll be patching the damn thing again,” Bucky’s voice rang out, casual and dry as ever, though the concern in it was unmistakable.

Steve paused mid-swing, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly as he turned to see his best friend leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. Bucky’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a softness Steve wasn’t sure he deserved.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, his voice hoarse from hours of exertion.

“Figured I’d find you here,” Bucky replied, stepping into the gym. “Thought maybe you’d stop using that bag like it owes you money and actually talk to me.”

Steve sighed, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Not in the mood, Buck.”

“Well, tough,” Bucky shot back, grabbing a folding chair and dragging it noisily across the floor. He plopped it down unceremoniously a few feet away from Steve, crossing one ankle over his knee. “Because I just came from seeing her.”

The color drained from Steve’s face. He froze, his fists still clenched at his sides. “You… you saw her?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said evenly, watching his friend’s reaction carefully. “She didn’t slam the door in my face, so I’d say I’m doing better than you.”

Steve flinched, the weight of Bucky’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He turned away, his hands gripping the edges of the punching bag as he tried to steady himself. “How… how is she?”

Bucky hesitated. He’d seen the raw pain in your eyes, the tears you tried to hide, and he knew Steve wasn’t ready for the truth. But lying wouldn’t help either.

“She’s a mess, Steve,” Bucky said softly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Steve let out a shaky breath, his head hanging low. “I did this to her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I pushed her away, made her feel like she wasn’t enough. And now… now I don’t know how to fix it.”

Bucky stood, closing the distance between them. “Steve, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Steve turned, his eyes red and tired.

“She still loves you,” Bucky said firmly, his voice steady. “But she’s hurt, and she’s angry. And you can’t expect her to just forget all that because you’re showing up with flowers and apologies.”

“I know that,” Steve snapped, his voice breaking. “God, Buck, I know. But what else can I do? Every time I see her, it’s like she’s slipping further away, and I don’t know how to reach her anymore.”

Bucky’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You start by understanding that this isn’t about fixing things overnight. It’s about showing her that you’re willing to put in the work, no matter how long it takes. That you’re not just sorry—you’re ready to be better.”

Steve nodded, though the despair in his eyes didn’t fade. “She said she doesn’t trust me anymore.”

“Then earn it back,” Bucky said simply. “Show her that you’re not the same guy who hurt her. And for God’s sake, stop treating this like a battle you can win with brute force. You’re not fighting Hydra here, Steve. You’re fighting for her.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, his head dropping into his hands. “I don’t even know if she wants me to try.”

Bucky crouched slightly, meeting Steve’s gaze head-on. “I asked her,” he said quietly.

Steve’s head shot up, his blue eyes wide. “What? What did she say?”

“She doesn’t know,” Bucky admitted. “She’s scared, Steve. Scared that if she lets you back in, you’ll hurt her again. And honestly? I don’t blame her.”

The words hit Steve like a blow, but he didn’t argue. He knew Bucky was right.

“She told me something else too,” Bucky continued, his voice softer now. “She said she doesn’t know how to stop loving you. And it’s killing her.”

Steve’s breath caught, his chest tightening painfully. “She… she said that?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. She loves you, Steve. But love isn’t enough—not after what you put her through. You have to show her that you’re not just saying the right things. You have to be the right man for her. The man she fell in love with.”

Steve closed his eyes, his mind racing with memories of you—the way you used to laugh, the way you’d look at him like he was your whole world. He’d taken that for granted, and now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get it back.

“What if I can’t?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “What if I’ve already lost her?”

Bucky’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “You don’t get to give up, punk. Not on her, and not on yourself. You want her back? Then fight for her. And don’t stop until you’ve shown her that she’s worth everything.”

Steve swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “How? How do I even start?”

Bucky gave him a small, knowing smile. “Start by listening. By showing up—not just for her, but for the life she wants. Show her that she’s not a convenience, Steve. She’s the center of it all.”

Steve nodded slowly, the weight of Bucky’s words sinking in. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t give up on you. Not now. Not ever.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said quietly, his voice rough but sincere.

Bucky grinned, clapping him on the back. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a hell of a road ahead of you.”

Steve nodded, determination flickering in his tired eyes. He didn’t know how long it would take or if he’d even succeed, but for you, he’d move mountains.

Because losing you wasn’t an option. And he’d spend the rest of his life proving it if that’s what it took.

***

Steve left the gym after his conversation with Bucky feeling drained but determined. His best friend’s words weighed on him, both a reminder of the man he wanted to be and the man he hadn’t been for you. He knew Bucky was right—this wasn’t a fight he could win with brute force or a quick apology. It would take time, patience, and a quiet kind of devotion that he’d never had to show before.

He didn’t expect you to forgive him overnight. He didn’t even expect you to notice what he was doing right away. But he had to start somewhere.

***

It was early morning when Steve pushed open the door to your coffee shop.

The familiar bell jingled above him, the sound stirring memories of quieter, happier times. You were behind the counter, moving with practiced ease as you worked the espresso machine. You didn’t see him at first, but when you turned, your eyes locked, and Steve felt the air shift.

“Morning,” he said, his voice soft, careful not to disrupt the fragile peace of the moment.

You blinked, your expression guarded. “Morning.”

“I’m here for coffee,” he said, stepping forward. “For the team.”

Your brow furrowed, skeptical. “The team sent you?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Not exactly. Thought I’d take my turn.”

You didn’t reply, but you turned back to the espresso machine, the hum of it filling the silence. Steve watched you work, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, and for a moment, he was struck by how natural this scene felt, even with the tension between you.

When you handed him the tray of drinks, your fingers brushed his briefly, and he saw the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—surprise, maybe, or something softer.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice warm but careful.

You didn’t answer, but you nodded, and he left without lingering, the bell jingling softly as the door swung shut behind him.

*

The next time he came, it was quieter. Midmorning, after the breakfast rush had died down, Steve appeared with a small brown paper bag in hand.

You were cleaning the counter, lost in thought, when his voice broke through the silence.

“You forget to eat when you’re busy,” he said simply, placing the bag on the counter.

You looked up, startled. “Steve…”

“It’s just breakfast,” he said, holding up a hand to forestall your protests. “Nothing more. Just thought you might need it.”

You hesitated, the words you wanted to say caught somewhere in your throat. Slowly, you opened the bag, the warm scent of eggs and bacon wafting up to meet you.

“From that diner you like,” he added, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Figured it was better than you skipping meals.”

You stared at the bag for a long moment before meeting his eyes. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I wanted to.”

He didn’t stay long, didn’t push for conversation. He just gave you a small nod and left, leaving you with breakfast and a strange, lingering warmth in your chest.

*

Natasha was relentless when it came to her movie nights, and somehow, you found yourself at the Tower despite your protests. The room was cozy, filled with the low murmur of conversation and the scent of popcorn. You settled into one corner of the couch, trying to ignore the way Steve’s presence tugged at the edges of your awareness.

When the opening credits began to roll, Steve appeared beside you, holding something in his hands.

“Here,” he said quietly, offering you a pair of thick woolen socks.

You frowned, confused. “What’s this?”

“Your feet get cold,” he said simply, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him, your chest tightening, before reluctantly taking the socks. “Thanks,” you muttered, slipping them on.

He didn’t linger, didn’t push for more. But later, when the movie reached its tense climax, he handed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate—rich, creamy, with just the right amount of cinnamon.

“You don’t have to—” you started, but he cut you off with a small, knowing smile.

“You love hot chocolate after horror movies,” he said, his tone soft. “Figured you might want some.”

You took the mug, the warmth seeping into your hands, and for the first time that night, you let yourself relax.

*

The envelope was waiting for you in your mailbox, unassuming but carefully placed. Inside was a single ticket to the sold-out Broadway show you’d mentioned to Sam weeks ago.

The note tucked inside was brief, written in Steve’s familiar handwriting: Thought you’d like this. Hope it’s as good as you imagined.

You stared at the ticket for a long time, your heart aching with a mixture of gratitude and frustration. He remembered. Of course, he remembered.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that it was just a kind gesture, but deep down, it chipped away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

*

The night your car broke down was cold and quiet, the kind of night that made the world feel vast and lonely. You sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the lifeless dashboard, your breath fogging up the glass as you fought the urge to cry.

You tried calling a few friends, but no one answered. Finally, with trembling fingers, you dialed the one number you swore you wouldn’t.

“Sweetheart?” Steve’s voice came through the line, steady and concerned.

“My car won’t start,” you said softly, ignoring the pet name, hating how small your voice sounded.

“Where are you?”

You told him, and he didn’t hesitate. “Stay there. I’m on my way.”

When his truck pulled up beside you, he climbed out without a word, his breath misting in the cold air as he checked under your hood. His movements were sure and efficient, his presence steadying.

“Alternator’s shot,” he said finally, closing the hood. “I’ll take you home.”

You hesitated, your pride warring with your gratitude, but the freezing air made the decision for you.

The drive was quiet, the heater humming softly as Steve navigated the empty streets. He didn’t pry, didn’t try to fill the silence with unnecessary words. He just… drove.

When you woke up the next morning, your car was back in its usual spot. The engine purred like new when you started it, and a small note was taped to the dashboard: Shouldn’t give you trouble anymore. Call me if it does.

*

Each gesture was small, unassuming. Steve never pushed, never demanded more than you were willing to give. He just… showed up, quietly and consistently, letting his actions speak louder than words ever could.

And slowly, despite yourself, you began to notice.

***

Three months had passed since the breakup.

You wouldn’t say things had gone back to normal—far from it—but something had undeniably shifted between you and Steve. His quiet persistence, the way he showed up without pushing or demanding anything from you, had started to chip away at the walls you’d built around your heart.

At first, your conversations were stiff and polite, nothing more than a few sentences exchanged when he stopped by the coffee shop or brought you breakfast. But as the weeks went by, those moments grew longer, softer. He’d ask about your day, about the books you were reading, or the things you enjoyed, and you found yourself answering more openly. It wasn’t quite like before, but it was closer to the first moments of your relationship, back when everything had been new and uncomplicated.

Still, there was a voice in the back of your mind that wouldn’t let you forget. A quiet, insistent whisper that reminded you of how he’d hurt you, how he’d pushed you aside and made you feel invisible.

That voice grew louder the day he asked you to talk.

***

It was late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the windows of the coffee shop as you wiped down the counter. The shop was quiet, the usual morning and lunch rushes long gone, leaving you with only the hum of the espresso machine and the soft clatter of dishes.

The sound of the bell above the door caught your attention, and when you looked up, Steve was there.

He’d been coming in more often lately, not just to pick up coffee for the team but to see you, to talk to you. This time, though, something about the way he stood—his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched—told you this wasn’t just a casual visit.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice careful as he approached the counter.

“Hey,” you replied, setting the towel aside.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked, glancing around at the empty shop. “I mean… can we talk?”

You hesitated, your stomach twisting. The vulnerability in his expression was disarming, but that voice in the back of your mind warned you to tread carefully. Still, you nodded, gesturing toward one of the empty tables.

Steve followed you, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from you. For a moment, he said nothing, his hands clasped tightly on the table as he stared down at them. You waited, your heart thudding quietly in your chest as the silence stretched between you.

Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he began, his voice low but steady. “About what I should say. How I should say it. And the truth is… there’s no easy way to do this. So I’m just going to be honest.”

You nodded, your throat tightening as you braced yourself for whatever was coming.

“I screwed up,” he said, the words heavy with regret. “I let you down in a way I never should have. And I’ve been trying to figure out why—why I acted the way I did, why I pushed you away when you were the best thing in my life.”

His hands tightened into fists, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to find the right words. “I think… I think I was scared. Scared of not being enough for you, scared of dragging you into everything that comes with being me. The missions, the stress, the weight of it all—I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. “So you decided to ignore me instead? To shut me out?”

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice breaking slightly. “I know it doesn’t make sense. It was selfish and stupid, and I wasn’t thinking about how it would make you feel. I just… I thought if I kept it to myself, if I didn’t tell you about everything that was going on, I could protect you from it. But all I did was hurt you.”

His eyes glistened, and he looked away, swallowing hard. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. For making you feel like you weren’t enough when you were everything to me.”

The raw emotion in his voice made your chest ache, but the wounds he’d left were still fresh, still tender.

“Steve…” you began, your voice trembling, “you hurt me more than anyone ever has. Do you know that?”

He flinched, his jaw tightening, but he nodded.

“I spent weeks wondering what I did wrong,” you continued, your words spilling out in a rush. “I kept asking myself why I wasn’t good enough for you, why I wasn’t worth your time or your attention. And then, when you finally started trying again, it felt like a slap in the face. Like you thought a few kind gestures could erase everything you put me through.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you fought to keep your voice steady. “I wanted so badly to be enough for you, Steve. That’s all I ever wanted. Just to be enough.”

“You were,” he said quickly, his voice cracking. “You are. God, you’re more than enough. I was the one who wasn’t. I didn’t know how to handle it—how to be the man you deserved—and I let that fear control me. But I swear to you, I see it now. I see what I lost because of it.”

He leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know I might have ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. But if there’s anything—anything—I can do to change your mind, tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can be better, that I can be the man you need me to be.”

His voice dropped, barely more than a whisper. “I just need to know if there’s any part of you that still believes in us.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding as the weight of his words settled over you. The pain, the anger, the love—all of it swirled together in a storm of emotion that left you speechless.

Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your voice trembling as you said, “I don’t know, Steve. I don’t know if I can trust you again. I don’t know if I can forget how much it hurt.”

His face crumpled, but he nodded, accepting your words without argument.

“But…” you continued, your voice softer now, “I can’t pretend I don’t still feel something for you. I can’t pretend I don’t still love you.”

His eyes widened, hope flickering in their depths.

“That doesn’t mean we can go back to how things were,” you said quickly, your tone firm. “If we’re going to try… if we’re going to even think about trying, it has to be different. You have to be honest with me, Steve. About everything.”

“I will,” he said immediately, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear, I will.”

You nodded, your throat tight with the weight of what you’d just said. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was something. A small step toward rebuilding what had been broken.

And as Steve reached out, his hand brushing against yours, you let yourself hope—for the first time in months—that maybe, just maybe, it was a step worth taking.

***

It had been a week since the conversation with Steve, and your emotions were in turmoil. You felt caught between the raw pain of the past and the cautious hope of what could be. His words haunted you—his apologies, his promises, the way his voice had cracked when he told you how much he still cared.

You needed clarity, and there was only one person who could give you the no-nonsense advice you desperately needed: Natasha.

She arrived at your place that evening, a takeout bag in hand, and didn’t waste a second settling herself at your kitchen table. Her sharp green eyes studied you as you sat down across from her, picking at the noodles she’d brought for you.

“All right,” she said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Steve,” you admitted, your voice soft.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. “What about him?”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the table. “We talked. Really talked. He told me everything—why he shut me out, how he felt, all of it. He apologized for everything and… I believe him, Nat. I really do.”

“But?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“But I don’t know if I can trust him again,” you confessed, your throat tightening. “I don’t know if I can let myself go through that again. He hurt me so much, Nat. How do I just move past that?”

Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze piercing. “Let me ask you something,” she said finally. “If you didn’t still love him, if you didn’t still want something with him deep down, would we even be having this conversation right now?”

You frowned, her words hitting you hard. “What do you mean?”

“It’s been three months,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “If you were done with him, if you really didn’t care anymore, you’d have moved on by now. You wouldn’t still be here, agonizing over whether to give him another chance.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came. She wasn’t wrong, and deep down, you knew it.

“I’m not saying you have to forgive him tomorrow or even next week,” Natasha continued, leaning forward. “But if there’s still a part of you that wants to believe in him, don’t ignore that. You owe it to yourself to figure out what you really want. Not what you’re afraid of, not what you think you should do. What you want.”

Her words lingered long after she left, a quiet truth that refused to be ignored.

***

At the same time, Steve was grappling with his own uncertainty.

He sat in the Tower’s lounge, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he stared out the window. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation, about the raw pain in your voice when you told him how much he’d hurt you.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, and Steve turned to see both Sam and Bucky entering the room. They exchanged a look before sitting down on either side of him.

“You’ve been brooding,” Sam said bluntly. “What’s going on?”

Steve sighed, setting his mug down on the coffee table. “It’s her,” he admitted.

“Figured,” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair. “What happened?”

“I talked to her,” Steve said. “Told her everything—how I felt, why I shut her out. I apologized for all of it.”

“And?” Sam prompted.

“She said she doesn’t know if she can trust me again,” Steve said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “But she also said she still loves me. I don’t know what to do with that, Sam. I don’t know how to make it right.”

Sam leaned forward, his expression serious. “Look, man, love isn’t always enough. Not when there’s hurt involved. If she doesn’t trust you right now, that’s on you to fix. You can’t just expect her to forgive and forget because you feel bad about it.”

“I know that,” Steve said quickly, his jaw tightening. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to mess this up again. I need to figure out how to show her that I’m serious without overwhelming her.”

Bucky gave him a long, measured look. “You’ve been trying,” he said finally. “We’ve all seen it—the little things you’ve been doing. But if you’re asking me, you’re not going to fix this by tiptoeing around her. You’ve got to be honest, Rogers. If you want her back, you need to let her see all of you. The good, the bad, and the stuff you think she won’t want to deal with.”

Steve frowned, his gaze dropping to the floor. “What if she doesn’t want to deal with it?”

“Then she doesn’t,” Bucky said simply. “But if you hold back, you’re not giving her the chance to decide for herself. And that’s not fair to either of you.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “You’ve got to let her see that you’re not just saying the right things, Steve. You’ve got to show her. But don’t make it about fixing things fast. Healing takes time, for both of you.”

Steve exhaled slowly, the weight of their words settling over him. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Sam said with a grin. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you, Cap.”

***

Steve spent the next few days thinking about their advice. He’d been so focused on not pushing you, on giving you space, that he hadn’t realized he might be holding back too much.

When he saw you next, it was at the coffee shop, just as you were closing up for the day. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his heart pounding.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet.

You looked up, surprise flickering across your face. “Hey.”

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

You nodded slowly, setting down the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. “Sure.”

He gestured toward one of the empty tables, and you followed him, sitting down across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Steve began, his voice steady but low. “About how much I hurt you, how I made you feel like you weren’t enough. And you were right. I let you down in ways I’ll never forgive myself for.”

Your throat tightened, but you stayed silent, letting him continue.

“I’ve spent so much time trying to fix things in small ways, trying to show you that I’m serious,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ve been honest enough with you. I don’t think I’ve let you see how much this has been tearing me apart.”

His hands tightened into fists on the table, his knuckles white. “I don’t want to overwhelm you or push you, but I can’t hold this back anymore. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be the man you deserve.”

His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw tears in his eyes. “If there’s anything—anything—I can do to earn your trust again, tell me. Because losing you would be the biggest mistake of my life.”

Your own eyes burned with tears, the raw honesty in his words cutting through the walls you’d built around your heart. For the first time, you saw not just the man who’d hurt you but the man who was willing to fight for you, flaws and all.

You didn’t have an answer for him—not yet. But as you reached across the table and took his hand, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start finding one.

***

You were closing up the coffee shop when your phone buzzed. The message was from Natasha. That alone was unusual—Nat rarely texted without reason. You pulled your phone out, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb.

The words on the screen made your blood run cold: We’ve lost contact with Steve and Bucky.

Your breath caught, and the phone nearly slipped from your trembling hands. For a moment, everything around you blurred—the soft hum of the espresso machine, the faint chatter of pedestrians outside, the smell of coffee beans—all of it faded into the background.

You didn’t think, didn’t even register dropping the rag you’d been using to clean the counter. Your hands shook as you locked the doors, fumbling with the keys before rushing to your car.

The drive to the Tower was a haze, your chest tight with panic as Natasha’s words repeated in your mind. You knew Steve went on dangerous missions. It was part of who he was. But something about those words—lost contact—made this time feel different.

***

By the time you arrived at the Tower, your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might break through your ribcage. The elevator ride felt like an eternity, each floor passing with agonizing slowness. When the doors finally slid open, you practically ran into the common room, where Natasha and Sam were already waiting.

“What happened?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

Natasha turned toward you, her expression calm but her eyes betraying her concern. “They were on a mission. Everything was going according to plan, but then we lost contact about three hours ago. We’ve been trying to re-establish communication, but there’s been no response.”

Three hours. That might as well have been three days.

“What do you mean ‘lost contact’?” you pressed, your voice rising. “How does that even happen?”

“It could be anything,” Sam said, his tone soothing but cautious. “Jammed signals, a misstep in the mission. We don’t know yet.”

You stared at them, your breathing shallow, your mind racing with every worst-case scenario imaginable. “So they could be…”

“They’re not,” Natasha said firmly, cutting you off. Her voice was sharp, but there was a softness in her gaze. “Steve and Bucky have been in worse situations than this. They’ll find a way to get back to us.”

Sam nodded in agreement, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “They’re two of the toughest guys I know,” he said. “If anyone can make it out of this, it’s them.”

You wanted to believe them, but the fear in your chest refused to let go. You sank into one of the chairs, your hands gripping the armrests so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

The minutes dragged by like hours, the silence in the room heavy and oppressive. Natasha and Sam tried to make conversation, to keep you distracted, but you barely registered their words. Your mind was too consumed by the thought of what could happen—of what might have already happened.

***

When Natasha’s phone finally buzzed, the sound cut through the quiet like a gunshot. She snatched it up, her sharp gaze scanning the screen. Relief flickered across her face as she read aloud:

“It’s from Steve. They’re on their way back, but a medic is necessary.”

Your heart seized, a mixture of relief and panic coursing through you. “Who’s hurt?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“He didn’t say,” Natasha replied, her lips pressing into a thin line.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest refused to loosen. You told yourself it didn’t matter who was hurt—they were alive, and they were coming back. But the not knowing gnawed at you, the fear for Steve settling deep in your bones.

No one told Steve you were here, and maybe that was for the best. But as you sat there, waiting for the jet to arrive, you realized just how fragile everything felt. The past few months flashed through your mind—all the moments of doubt, the anger, the hesitation—and for the first time, they seemed so small. In the grand scheme of things, you could have lost Steve today. That thought terrified you more than anything else.

***

The sound of the jet’s engines rumbling low overhead pulled you out of your thoughts. You stood with Natasha and Sam, your heart pounding as the aircraft touched down on the Tower’s private landing pad.

The ramp lowered slowly, and the first thing you saw was Steve, his arm slung around Bucky to help him walk. Bucky looked pale, his arm hanging limp at his side, his face tight with pain. Medics rushed forward to meet him, but your eyes were locked on Steve.

He didn’t look much better than Bucky. His shirt was torn, streaked with dirt and blood, and his face bore a fresh collection of cuts and bruises. His shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion, his steps slow and measured.

But when his eyes found yours, he smiled.

Even battered and bloodied, he’d never looked more handsome. His beard, grown in over the time he’d been away, gave him a rugged edge, and his blue eyes still held that quiet strength you’d always admired.

The moment your gaze met his, something in you broke. You ran to him, barely aware of your surroundings, and threw your arms around him.

“Steve,” you sobbed, burying your face in his chest. His shirt was rough against your skin, damp with sweat and blood, but you didn’t care. “I was so scared. I thought… I thought I might lose you.”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his grip strong despite his obvious exhaustion. “I’m okay,” he murmured, his voice soft but steady. “I’m here.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “You have to be more careful,” you said, your voice trembling. “You can’t… you can’t do this to me, Steve.”

His expression softened, and he reached up to brush a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What happened?” you asked, your voice cracking. “What went wrong?”

To your surprise, Steve didn’t hesitate. He guided you to a quieter corner, his hand resting lightly on your back, and began to explain.

“The mission was supposed to be straightforward,” he said, his voice low but steady. “But things went sideways fast. There were more hostiles than we anticipated, and Bucky got hit—bad. I couldn’t leave him behind, so I…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“You carried him out,” you finished, your throat tightening.

Steve nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “I wasn’t going to leave him, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from fear. They were from the overwhelming realization of who Steve truly was—the man who would sacrifice everything for the people he cared about.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice softer now. “I won’t make that mistake again. And if you’re willing to listen, I’ll tell you everything—about the missions, about what’s going on with me. No more shutting you out.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with a mixture of love and fear and hope. Slowly, you nodded. “I’m listening,” you said.

And as he began to speak, you felt the cracks in your heart begin to mend, one word at a time.

***

Steve stayed with you after the medics whisked Bucky away to the infirmary. He’d insisted Bucky was in good hands, though you could see the guilt still lingering in his eyes. You sat together in one of the quieter rooms in the Tower, the tension from the mission still clinging to him like a second skin.

Despite his exhaustion, he refused to let go of your hand.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you sat beside him. “I know it’s late.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

He gave you a small, tired smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re too good to me.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “No, Steve. I’m just—” You paused, searching for the right words. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He exhaled slowly, his shoulders sagging as the adrenaline that had sustained him through the mission began to fade. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For everything,” he replied, meeting your gaze with a vulnerability that left you breathless. “For scaring you, for shutting you out before… for making you feel like you weren’t enough. I know I’ve said it before, but I need you to know I mean it.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. For a long moment, you didn’t respond, your chest tight as you tried to process the enormity of what he was saying.

“I was so scared today,” you admitted finally, your voice trembling. “When Nat texted me, when we didn’t know if you were okay… it was like the ground had been ripped out from under me.” You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I realized then how stupid these past few months have been. I was so caught up in my own hurt, my own doubts, that I didn’t see what we were losing.”

Steve’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You weren’t wrong to feel that way,” he said softly. “You had every right to be hurt, to doubt me. I earned that. But I don’t want to lose you, baby. Not now. Not ever.”

His words broke something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice steady and resolute.

***

The days following the mission passed in a haze of quiet moments and tentative steps forward. Steve stayed at the Tower to help Bucky recover, but he checked in with you constantly. Sometimes it was a quick text—How are you? Did you eat today?—and sometimes it was a phone call that lasted longer than either of you expected.

You visited the Tower often, bringing Bucky some of his favorite snacks and sitting with him while Steve caught up on reports. Bucky teased you relentlessly, of course, his dry humor cutting through the tension in ways only he could manage.

“So,” he said one afternoon, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “When are you two going to stop tiptoeing around and just admit you’re back together?”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “We’re not—”

“Sure,” Bucky interrupted, smirking. “And I’m the King of Wakanda.”

Steve, who had just entered the room, raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glaring at Bucky.

“Just pointing out the obvious,” Bucky said with a shrug, earning himself an eye-roll from both you and Steve.

Despite his teasing, Bucky’s words stayed with you. He wasn’t entirely wrong. The way you and Steve interacted had changed since the mission. There was a closeness now, a sense of trust that hadn’t been there before.

***

One evening, Steve invited you to dinner at the Tower. He didn’t call it a date, and you didn’t press him on it, but there was something deliberate about the way he’d set the table, the candles he’d lit, the care he’d taken with every detail.

The two of you sat across from each other, the soft glow of the candles casting warm light over his face. For a while, you just talked—about work, about Bucky’s recovery, about the books you’d been reading. The conversation flowed easily, the tension that had once lingered between you finally gone.

At one point, Steve leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said,” he began, his voice steady but quiet. “About how scared you were. How I need to be more careful.”

You frowned slightly. “Steve, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I know your work is dangerous. I’ve always known that.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “But you were right. I can’t keep doing this—not without being honest with you about what’s going on. If I’m asking you to be part of my life, I need to make sure you feel like you’re part of it.”

His words sent a warmth through your chest, a feeling of being truly seen and valued. “I appreciate that,” you said softly.

Steve smiled, and for the first time in weeks, it felt like everything between you was falling into place.

***

As the night wore on, the conversation grew quieter, more intimate. Steve reached across the table, his hand brushing yours.

“I know we can’t go back to how things were before,” he said, his voice low but firm. “But I think we can build something better. Something stronger. If you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no hesitation in his gaze, no doubt. Just quiet determination and a love that felt as steady and unshakable as the man himself.

“I want that too,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened, and for the first time in months, you felt the weight in your chest begin to lift.

It wasn’t a perfect ending. There were still things to work through, still scars to heal. But as Steve reached for your hand, his grip warm and sure, you knew you were ready to take the next step—together.

[starsungwithamelody]

do you write for oliver aiku? :3

-yep anon!! feel free to send in more requests!

car sex w Oliver Aiku

afab! reader

context- you just got stood up at a date, planned by anri of course. you’re sad, upset, kicking the bed, but then… you get a text.

your ex fling, Oliver Aiku

a/n- ignore how trash my writing has been… sorry

warnings- car sex, riding, a lil cunilingus and my horrible “fluff” or “angst” I DIDNT DO A PROOFREAD

its 10:38 pm

you’re laying in your bed, sighing about some random guy who stood you up! you are never trusting anri again, who would’ve known she was horrible at choosing blind dates?

you’re just doomscrolling now, liking and commenting on every somewhat cute guy.

“... this is so STUPID!”

you push your head in your pillows, swinging your legs around. maybe you’ll be alone for the rest of your life!

bzzt!

“please! please tell me that’s a like back!”

you rush to pick up your phone, a text from oliver. your ex-fling..

“you up?” -10:40 pm

oh. it’s this guy again! some stupid strong idiot with some really good dick! i mean you did sleep with him enough… for the number to be in the double digits.

whatever, you’re done with guys! they’re nothing but stupid-

bzzt!

he double texted?! what the fu- you rush to open the chat again.

“c’mon now, don’t leave me on read.” -10:43 pm

okay.. no way he just double texted! that means he definitely wants to fuck right now! wait what are you thinking girl? just one last night stand? your fingers start flying on the screen typing the most perfectly written text message back!

“haha yeah heyy” -10:44 pm

did you come off too strong?! whatever! he just wants to fuck and you don’t mind that!

“come outside cutie” -10:44 pm

wait. HES OUTSIDE?!

you quickly head out to your window, oh my god! he’s actually outside?! you quickly brush your hair and clean yourself up before you rush out the door.

“hey there!”

wait did you even reapply lipstick? did you just forget your phone? you’re so flustered and nervous about a guy you’ve fucked so many times already.

“you were ready for this?”

he looks up and down at you, a cute elegant blue dress. it’s not too revealing, but it makes you look gorgeous!

“oh! well.. my date stood me up earlier..”

you pause, taking a deep breath in.

“whatever.. he was really shitty anyway”

you feel aiku pull you into his arms, one of his hands pressing onto your back pulling you closer.

“ooh! aiku.. i don’t think this.. this is appropriate-“

he quickly shuts you up with a kiss, his other hand holding your head, keep you locked into the kiss. you can’t help but reciprocate the kiss back.

he only lets go after you’re left panting. he watches your eyes, you feel nervous. but then he speaks again.

“i want you back.”

he pauses, his hold on your back moving lower.

“i don’t want to keep just fucking like this.. i want you”

he pauses again, this time he looks through you. you start to sweat a little, no freaking way! no way he just said that!

“i need you, i can’t let some other guy have you for himself.”

is he for real? no way! he has to be lying right?

“im not lying sweetheart, you are the missing piece in my life”

he understood you, he understands you. you feel a real.. genuine connection with aiku, you’ve never felt any spark or connection with any guy.

“so please? will you be my girlfriend?”

you snap back into reality, quickly processing what he just said. maybe you’ll give him a chance.

“a-ah.. shit!”

you grip on to aiku’s shoulders tightly, he just keeps thrusting into you! the comfy leather seats are stained with a mix of your juices.

“fuuuckk… you’re so good to me baby..”

you press your head into his neck, peppering small kisses along his collarbone.

“hah-ha.. is this your way of thanking me?”

you can’t help but smile at his words, his hands tangle into your hair pulling you closer.

“you’re so warm y’know?”

he slowly moves your hands to your hips, keeping you bouncing on his shaft.

“soo.. glad that date stood you up”

he softly pecks a kiss to your cheek, moving down to your neck. you can barely respond, he’s just wayy too deep inside you! his hand moves to your stomach pressing on the bulge.

“just.. too big for you hm, your cunt is just begging for me right now…”

he laughs softly squeezing your hips, lifting your hips up again.

“yeah.. you’re too b-!“

your insides are immediately rearranged with one thrust.

“ahh.. fuckk..”

you look up at him, holding onto his biceps.

“i- i want more aiku..”

in a few seconds, oliver presses your back against the car seat. his hands keeping your legs pressed up to your chest. he quickly kisses your clit, licking up your juices.

“let’s do more then.. shall we?”

he lines himself against you, slowly teasing you with his tip. thrusting fully inside you when you start whining about how empty your stomach feels without, his finger pressing on the bulge on your stomach.

its gonna be a lonnnggg night for you two huh?

a/n- can you tell when i got bored of writing lololol

[therealcocoshady]

Hii

I lost my puppy recently, can you please write one where the reader is a bit depressed and Marshall gives her a puppy?

A/N : Hi Anon ! I’m so sorry about you losing your puppy ! I’m sending you tons of love 💕. I wrote a little something and I hope you like it !

Finding purpose 🐶

« I dont know, » you’d said in that monotone voice of yours. « I just feel like… there’s no purpose. I have no purpose ».

After weeks of beating around the bush, Marshall had finally confronted you, and your answer broke his heart. You were the most vibrant person he had ever met, so full of life and laughter. But in the past few months, he had seen you decaying. Your laugh, once his favorite sound, seemed like a distant memory and he couldn’t tell the last time he’d seen you actually smile, no matter how hard he tried. You had become withdrawn, distant. Sometimes, he would at you and he could see stare into the abyss, as if your mind was miles away. But every time he would ask what’s on your mind, you would shrug it off.

His first instinct was to blame himself. Maybe he’d taken you for granted. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. He was never really good at keeping his longtime girlfriends entertained, his workaholic nature often taking over. But his best efforts to win you over with impromptu date nights and presents seemed to be in vain. Then, he tried asking your friends, but no one seemed to know what was going on. As far as they knew, nothing had happened. You were doing ok at work. Your family was fine. And as far as they knew, you didn’t have beef with anyone. So it was kind of a mystery. But still, the facts were there : you kept on withdrawing, keeping people at a distance. You were once the life of the party, but you barely went out anymore. Even keeping up with your text messages proved to be difficult. Yet, everyone was getting increasingly worried. They could see the dim smiles, the dark circles, the weight fluctuation… They all tried to be subtle about it, not wanting to be insensitive or too harsh. Until Marshall decided enough was enough.

You had ghosted him for three days. No phone, no text. Nothing. When he showed up at your place, he was immediately taken aback by your gaunt face and hollow eyes. You weren’t alright and he was done being subtle about it. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees. You looked up as he let himself in, your eyes dull and tired. « Thank God I have your spare key » he sighed. « Otherwise, I would have called the cops to report you were missing ». You looked down, mumbling an apology. « We gotta talk » he declared in a voice that was a little sharper than he intended. You turned your head back to him, hough your eyes remained dull and distant. « About what? » you asked. He sighed and sat in the chair across you. « About you » he said. « About whatever’s been eating you alive for the past weeks. I’m tired of pretending like everything’s fine. You think I don’t notice ? You think I don’t see how different you’re acting ? »

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. « I’m fine, Marshall » you mumbled, though even you could tell how unconvincing you sounded. « Stop! » he snapped, his frustration evident. « You’re not fine. You’ve barely said more than five words to me in a day for the past three weeks! You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You don’t smile. And I’m sick and tired of pretending like everything’s ok when it’s clearly not ». His voice was getting louder and louder, his tone sharp and cutthroat. You couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes and, for a second, you were pretty sure you were going to lash out at him. But instead, your face crumpled and you let out a shaky breath. « I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Marshall » you whispered, your voice cracking. « I don’t know. I just feel like… There’s no purpose. I have no purpose. Like nothing I do matters. I wake up, and I don’t see the point of getting up. No purpose ».

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood up and crossed the room in a few quick strides, taking a seat on the couch, right next to you. You tried to turn away but he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. « Listen to me » he said, his voice low but steady. « You do have a purpose. You do matter. You matter to me. I don’t care what’s gong on in that beautiful head of yours, I’m not letting you drown in it. We’ll figure this out together. But you need to let me in and tell me how you’re feeling, babe ». You nodded, letting your tears spill over. « I don’t even know where to start » you quietly sobbed.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to anger in his embrace, instead of pushing him away after a couple of seconds. He held you against his chest, gently stroking your hair as you sobbed, letting out the storm that had been going on inside your mind, that was too much for you to put into words. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, Marshall never letting go of you, whispering sweet words of reassurance. « We just start here, Y/N. You and me. You’re not alone. I’m here. ». Eventually, exhaustion took over and you fell asleep, your head resting against his chest, your breath uneven but steady. But Marshall couldn’t follow suit. Your words kept on echoing in his mind. The way you said you don’t see the point of getting up, that you had no purpose… You had said it with such emptiness, like the thought had been carved into your very soul. He could see the pain, the suffering in your eyes. He could hear it in your voice. And he wished he could take it away, suffer in your place. All he wanted was to make you happy. You were the love of his life, a beautiful soul, and you deserved nothing but happiness. And he couldn’t sleep until he found a way to give it to you. Sadly, words wouldn’t do. He needed something more. Something real, tangible. Something that would bring back the light in your eyes.

And then, like a lightbulb flickering in the darkness, he had an idea.

The next day, your boyfriend found himself standing in the middle of an animal shelter. To say he was feeling out of his element would be the understatement of the year. He’d had a few pets in his day, but he had sworn off them a long time ago, arguing that they required too much work, too much energy. But maybe it was exactly what you needed. Something that would require work and energy, that would give you a reason to get out of bed. The sound of barking and meowing filled the air as he walked past rows pf cages. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he knew he’d recognize it when he saw it. And he did. There was a small dog waddling inside one of the kennels, its stubbly legs moving unevenly. He had a misshapen ear that flopped to one side, a patchy coat that looked like it has seen better days and a back leg that didn’t quite work right. It wasn’t conventionally cute but it had the kind of charm that he knew would tug at your heart. He’d seen you at the market, picking up bruised apples and misshapen tomatoes, sad that nobody else would want them. He saw you pour your heart not the smallest things, believing they deserved love too. Hell, you had taken him in, of all people. That had to be the ultimate sign you didn’t mind things - or people - being a little broken.

He pointed the dog to the staff member that was with him. « That’s Ralph. This little guy came in a few months ago » she explained. « He’s got some mobility issues and… well, he’s not the first one people ask about but he’s a good one. Loves cuddles and, despite the leg thing, walks, too ». Marshall crouched down, holding his hand out. Ralph sniffed it tentatively, then licked his fingers before flopping over on its side, demanding belly rubs. Marshall laughed and indulged him. He could already picture you with him. « This is the one » he said with a smile.

When he got to your place, Ralph waddled awkwardly behind him, its tiny legs working double-time to keep up. He’d picked up a few essentials - a bed, food, a leash, a couple of toys - but he knew the dog wouldn’t need much to win you over. You were in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders. You looked up as Marshall walked in, your eyes tired but curious. « What’s going on? » you asked, your voice soft. Instead of answering, your boyfriend stepped aside, revealing the little dog, who waddled into view, its mismatched body moving with clumsy determination. You let out a gasp, sitting up straight as the dog barked once, a cheerful and awkward sound that definitely matched his appearance. « Marshall…? What…? » you whispered, hands flying to your mouth.

« I heard what you said, » he told you, his voice steady but gentle. « About not having a reason to get up in the morning. And I figured maybe this little guy could help with that. » He gestured to Ralph, who was now sniffing the corner of the coffee table. « He’s not perfect. He’s got a bum leg and kind of a funky look, but… I thought maybe you’d see him the way you see those lopsided peaches at the market. The ones you always say deserve love, even if no one else thinks so. » Tears filled your eyes, spilling over as you slid off the couch to kneel on the floor. The dog trotted over to you, tail wagging furiously, and licked at your hands. You laughed through your tears, scooping the little guy into your lap and cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world.« He’s perfect, » you whispered, your voice trembling. « Absolutely perfect. » Marshall knelt beside you, watching as you showered your new friend with affection. « He’s yours, » he said. « And he’s gonna need you. You’ll have to help him get around sometimes, maybe even carry him when he’s having a rough day. But I thought… I thought you could take care of each other. »

You looked up at him, eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that had been missing for too long. Hope. « Thank you, » you said, your voice thick with emotion. « I… I don’t even know what to say. » He gave you a smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. « You don’t have to say anything. Just get up tomorrow morning and love him. That’s it ».

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

Don’t know if you’re still taking prompts but if you are you should totally write about ford eating out fem!stan for the first time plz🙏

hey anon! sorry i took a really long ass while to respond to this since i couldnt think of any specific scenarios to write this prompt of that wasn't just, you know, the prompt— but it finally hit me like a truck today! and also cuz i was sick and doing this in between homework djdndhdsn

anyway, VERY explicit under this read more, since i got SO carried away, hope you dont mind its the geezers pre-weirdmageddon in this one AND that you dont mind a little sex pollen also ty ty ty so much for your fem!stan request i love it when people enable me dhdndhdbdu also sorry to everyone who exoected a "read more" but tumblr hides my stuff when i do that so heres the warning, please scroll if thats not your thing

~~

"Constance, get down!"

"Wha—"

It was too late. Cloud of pink glitter exploded in her face and sent her into a coughing fit so hard her lungs shook in her ribcage. She drops to the floor and hears Ford's "Constance!"

Then she hears him fire his space gun. Just out of her periphery was chunks of blue goo that would be a fucking bitch to clean out of the walls and carpet, but la di da, there it was. There isn't a second to groan about that or the way her breathing turned heavy when Ford runs to her side, grabbing at her arm and forcing her to her back.

"Constance, are you okay?"

"Stanford..." Stan wheezes, turning her head into a hafl glare. "What... the HELL was that...?"

Ford's eyes narrow, inspecting her face, before his thumb brushes against her cheek. Stan shivers, a full body quake and confusion over taking her while Ford inspects his thumb. From down here, Stan can only stare because what else can she do when she's down, dizzy with virtigo from whatever magical poison that got sprayed across her face.

From down here, Stan feels the heat from Ford's grip, the pads of his fingers and the large mass of his palm against the bare skin of her arm, tickling the nerves underneath into sending sparks that go through her body and meet at the coil of her stomach. Even Ford's knee, under all that cloth and was much father from her face than Stan seems to think it is, illicited some deep, twisted something in Stan again she hasn't felt in a while.

"Ford?"

Ford's eyes snap back to her, blown and widened with alarm. Suddenly, he grabs her arm again, slips it over his shoulders, the other encircling her back. Stan thinks, alright, he's going to help me up, before a squawk rips from her throat when his arm loops under the back of her knees and lifts her to the air.

"What are you—?!"

"No time to explain, let's go," Ford says with all the urgency of a man on a mission. Carrying her out of their fairy-thing-guts covered living room with way too much ease, he sprints into the giftshop, ignoring Stan's confusion and dragging her into the basement.

It doesn't take a too long to find herself sitting on Ford's desk, trying to pump the breaks on the now doubled speed of her heart and the vibrations that run through out her body, working its ways to adjust to the surrounding. When Ford plopped her down and breathed the same air she did for less than a second, she felt it— ignition to an burnt out furnace suddenly bursting to new life. there was so much heat simmering through her veins, her nerves, every god damn thing was way too much to handle.

She's hot. Ford's desk and the glass plane behind her was cold, cold to a chill, and her thighs clench and rub together, onto the desk, aching for that rub of friction because she needed something hot, hot now, just as hot as her. Her mouth was dry, all the spit went on her tongue to her lips. Things— way too many things jumble in Stan's head, ranging from what the fuck is happening to holy shit, when did Sixer get that strong.

What stood out the most through was her brother saying he messed around with fucking nymphs, and all morning he's been hunted down by them. The one dead by their living room? A fucking nymph-assassin.

"Sixer, what the hell?" She pants, and oh God, she's panting? When the hell did that happen? Stan sucks in a breath again when Ford turns from rummaging through his stuff again to finally throw her a glance. Red hot heat crawls up her neck and she bites down on her lip when his eyes zero in on her squirming, her thighs. Stan might've thought she saw his jaw flex but, fuck if she wasn't also just going delirious.

"Why the hell were you messing around with those things in the first place?"

"I needed something from them, Constance," Ford answers measuredly, and Stan hears another racket from him looking for some goddamn thing through out his mess. "I've made an ammicable deal with them in the past, and now they're pushing for more. That's out of my control."

"I bet you backed out of that deal," Stan accuses, because it was pretty clear to them that Ford wasn't a god damn master of trickery or whatever. "What, you tried to swindle them for more of this fuck-powder? You know they sell viagra at the store?"

"That wasn't what I dealed with them for," Ford mutters lowly and, damn, if it were any other time, Stan would make fun of him. Stan would tease him, laugh at the embarrassed pout on his face, the bright red flush over his cheeks and ears. But she can't, not when Ford's back was what she's staring at, the broad, plane of his back and wide slopes of his shoulders, hidden under that stupid trenchcoat and sweater combo.

Where they could be ripped off and Stan could see all the things she never would have imagined her cute, nerdy but unappreciatedly handsome brother growing into if not for the one perk of getting shoved into a portal to whole universes of things trying to kill him. When she couldn't imagine him getting any hotter than he already—

They're back, those stupid god damn fantasies. They came at night, they came in the morning. They came whenever she and Ford would pass each other in the hall in their mutual agreement of no-talking, and his shadow almost engulfs her completely nowadays, and all she thinks is how stupid this whole avoiding each other thing is and they could be siblings as thick as thieves again.

Or even better— Ford could shove her into the wall and kiss her until she can't breathe. He could let her push that coat of his shoulders and sweater off his back so Stan's hands could crawl up them again. He could bite her neck, unbutton her blouse and pants, put one of those big palms to use and grope and squeeze around her tits, put those extra fingers to use and slip them into her pants, underwear, her, while Stan barely holds herself together biting at the firm skin on his shoulder.

Put that smartass mouth to use and say "Thank you, Stan" or "You're so good for me, Stan."

Get on his knees and put that mouth to even better use if he'd just shove down her pants, place his hands on her hips, nose against her bush and his mouth on her—

It takes a second too long to realize, but it happened. one hand slid between her legs, pushed the fabric of her boxers away to brush at her wet and even more senstive pussy. A second too long to stop that haggard mewl that came out of her lips.

A second too long to see that Ford finally turned back with a jar in way too tightly gripping hand, staring slack jawed at Stan behind his glasses.

Fucking great.

"Constance," Ford breathes shakily, and no, this can't happen. Their relationship can't get any worse, and sure Stan is gross for thinking about her brother that way, but she can't help that they're coming at the worst time, when she can't hide in her room far, far away from the basement and ride on her fingers to quiet cries of Ford's name.

"G-God, don't be so dramatic about it!" She says, sweat prickling at her neck. "You-you've seen me change and get naked before! This isn't that different!" Because there wasn't totally a difference between getting used to changing infront of your brother when you could barely live in one small space together when you were kids to touching yourself to them, right infront of them.

Right?

Man, she's such a sucker.

Shame is mixing with her already sizzling skin, and she needs to go. Take that jar-of-something to her room and figure it out on her own because obviously, Ford already wanted nothing to do with her and would want it even less now. Goddamn it, this would be so much easier if Ford didn't have eyes that were identical to hers, but wore it with that cutting stare that tore through her. Since they were teens and she was in denial about getting off to her twin brother who stared a little too hard— or even since forever.

Or at least if she wasn't still so hot and bothered thinking about him where she thinks she might've already came to his god damn desk.

Stan starts pushing herself off of it, face sweaty and pink. "F-Fine, I'll go. Just gimme that antedote and I'll—"

Ford closes the gap quicker than a lightning bolt, the jar already rolling on the floor and Stanford's mouth already crushed against hers, all hungry and desperate like he couldn't physically hold himself down anymore and their glasses knocking askew. He's nudging himself between her knees, his hands onto the fat on her hips, and shit, did he just moan? From just kissing her? Oh damn.

"Nevermind that. I think I have a better antedote," Ford says against her lips. "I'd like to test it out."

"Just fuck me already, Sixer, oh my God."

Stanford lights up, smiles like he won the damn lottery or fifty research grants or whatever. He dives right back in, kissing Stan, and sinking twelve nails into her hips as he drags them together. Stan groans, feeling the already hard tent go even harder against her, and her skin is on fire again, but this time melting the frigid parts of nerves into a liquid heat that's flowing directly down into her stomach, warming her up inside. Ford's hands move quick, from pushing the straps of her tank top down until she feels breeze touch her nipples to taking no sensitive measures to tugging and eventually ripping her boxers off her. Ford pulls away, and drags is mouth onto her neck then chest and Stan finally gets to put her hands on his shoulders, how big and strong he's gotten. One goes through his half greyed hair, and even when he was a teen she loved the dark, curly mop she'd pull into a noogie, but now it just makes him look better.

It makes her so mad, specially with what a grade A dick he's been. But she can't be that mad when Ford reaches her boob and takes a nipple into his mouth, nipping then sucking hard. "Shit—" Stan hisses, and there's nothing more to say than that.

"Fuck, Stan," Ford mutters against her skin, his breath tickling with the wetness on her nipple. "You drive me crazy."

"You're the one who fucked– ah– with Nymphs," She points out, and yeah maybe she could be a little jealous about that, but it dissapates when his fingers make their way into the warm, wetness of her pussy, just as special as Stan imagined it'd be. "Were– hh– they g-good lays, at least?"

"Not what I dealed with them for," Ford repeats, like that answers anything, and sinks loudly onto his chair, right between Stan's knees. His eyes drag down slowly on Stan, from her definitely fucked up hair, to half down tank top and tits hanging out, to right between her legs, and if Stan wasn't full on blushing then, well she sure was now. For a second it looks like he considers taking off his glasses, before deciding against it. Nerd.

Hooking the back of her knees over his shoulders, he smirks up at her again with that tear-her-apart stare again. "I doubt they'd ever taste this good."

Before Stan could respond to that, Ford's face goes between her thighs and his mouth is on her. If Stan thought she almost came earlier, then she's holding on for dear life when Ford's tongue laps at the outside before sinking deeper into her, sending shockwaves through out Stan. Moaning against her like he's the one getting head, like he's getting off from the taste of her on him alone. The flat of his tongue pushes against tight muscle, the heat almost pulsing, and making the wetness there grow more and more

Fuck, just Holy shit, how did he get this—

"Oh!" Stan gasps, one hand finding her own breast and the other on his desk, barely feeling the cold anymore with the clashing heat taking up her whole body, and all she can really feel is Ford's nose bumping against her bush when he only lets up for his teeth to graze against the nub of her clit while his fingers take over below. Stretching her out with his big, thick fingers, just so he could watch her like some pervy, old—

Then he sucks gently on it, and Stan is seeing white.

"Shit– Ford, I'm–"

"Just let it out, Stan," He says, still mostly against her. "You've been so good this whole time.

Thick thighs closing around Ford's head, that's what does her in. Of course it is. Her mind completely blanks out, turning to the white static on TV for a few moments until she realizes she's riding the rest of her orgasm on Ford's mouth at the end of it, while he laps it up like he'd die if he doesn't, like he's the cursed one.

Stan could barely register the murmurred whispers of her name and the movements of his arm from under the desk she's on until he's letting out a shuddering breath, forehead against her belly. Stan couldn't help the grin lighting up her face then.

Great, at least she's not the only one.

Just like that, the heat... doesn't really leave. Just wrapped around her cozily like the trenchcoat Ford threw over her when he finally stands up, only to drag Stan back on his lap. She's not getting used to that thirty years long honed strength anytime soon.

"Suppose I have a new more effective measures now," Ford says, lips finding Stan's, and she could taste herself on there, passed like a secret.

She's not getting used with this affection either, but Stan wants to see Ford try.

They stay a couple of moments there basking in this glow, until Stan peers up again, scratching the back of her neck when realization hits her.

"Hey, Sixer... you're the one cleaning that carpet upstairs, right?"

[puppycvntt]

(I'm a writer so hearing "Oh yeah, please keep sending me horny thoughts in my inbox" is like a dream to me lol. Here is one that is a bit longer than the other one I sent lmao.)

You had been left alone all day, your puppy parts aching to be filled yet no one was home with you to stuff them. You knew you'd be in trouble if you touched them yourself without permission so sitting on the living room floor suffering was the only option.

You finally hear the front door open, your owner walking in still in his work clothes. You try to speak but all that comes out is a whine, your owner chuckling down at you as he pets your hair. He notices that you are simply in his t-shirt and boxers, his hand sliding to your waist.

"Did you miss me, puppy?" He asks, his hand sliding from your waist down to cup your clothed puppycunt. He chuckles once more as he feels the soaking wet mess through the fabric of your boxers, rubbing your parts gently. "Aww you did, didn't you? I bet your greedy puppy parts missed me too. Come on, let's take care of this mess."

He guides you by your waist into the living room, dropping his work bag by the door as he walks further int the house. He sits down on the couch and pats his thigh, leading you to jump right into his lap. His hands immediately find your waist, his face burying into your neck. The kisses there start gentle, his voice a breath against your neck.

"I'm so proud of you, not touching all day while I was gone. I know it must've been torture sweetheart but don't worry, your owner will stuff you nice and full as a reward." His voice was a bit gruff, his own desire shining through.

In the blink of an eye, he's sliding your boxers down and undoing his work pants, his tdick rubbing at your entrance in a swift motion. He was hard and wet, making you realize he must have wanted this all day too. Without a single word, he pushes inside. A grunt leaves his lips while a whine leaves you, burying your face into his neck. His grip on your waist tightens as he guides you up and down, making sure you go at the pace he wants you to. Your legs were getting tired and of course he noticed, all good owners would, so instead of you riding him, he starts to fuck up into you. You were his personal toy, only able to grip at his hair and smell his scent to keep yourself grounded.

"Stupid fucking mutt, needing me to pound his pussy so bad that he soaked himself." He had growled into your ear, making you nibble at his neck to keep yourself from screaming. "I'm gonna breed this pretty little puppy cunt just like you want."

With that, he's cumming, stuffing you full just like he had promised. Your vision goes white as you come down from your own high, panting against his neck. He rubs your back as he stays inside you, keeping you filled up.

"I told you i'd breed this pretty pussy, you like being filled by your owner huh? Don't worry, I'm sure you'll feel full for days until I can stuff you again."

(I am sorry this is so intense for an anon write but I had the idea and you saying I should keep sending sparked me to write it. Enjoy!)

-🪐

please don’t apologize… i like it intense that way >_< you really know exactly what to say to get me sopping wet in a second!!! a very good pup handler you are… <3

[scramblescrew]

Hey can I request uh....ancients with a y/n who finally gives up but ends up depressed? Like they usually lay there and do nothing and be basically a sad doll that needs lots of comfort?

((Sure thing, Anon! Here ya go! Sorry it took me so long! Writer’s block has been killing me

(TRIGGER WARNING FOR THEMES OF DEPRESSIVE TOPICS! IF IT IS TOO MUCH FOR YOU, PLEASE MOVE ON PAST)

.

.

.

.

Dark Cacao Cookie would start having a bit of an easier time realizing what you’re feeling. He had felt the same depressed, empty feeling when his son, Dark Choco Cookie, forced his hand and he was cast out of the kingdom.

But when he found out you were just laying in bed, usually motionless, he was concerned. He understood that you weren’t in an ideal mental state but you still needed to care for yourself.

Instead of having one of the citadel staff bringing you your rations, Dark Cacao did instead. When he unlocked the door to your chambers and entered. His heart ached even more watching you lay motionless on your bed, your chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.

“Y/N…”

DCC walked over with the food, set it down on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Please understand why I had to keep you here in the citadel…the world outside of these walls would corrupt you…take what it would from you then leave you for dead. I couldn’t have that for you…I can’t lose you…!”

After a few minutes of silence, DCC sighed and laid down beside you, pulling you in close, and wrapped his arms around Y/N.

“Please know that I love you…even if in your eyes it doesn’t seem so…”

—————————————————————————

Scared. Pure Vanilla Cookie is scared when he finds to mindlessly and silently pacing the grounds of his kingdom for who knows how many hours and even more fearful when he catches up to you and you stare blankly and wordlessly at him.

His heart breaks at this as he pulls you close and hugs you.

“Let’s get you back to bed, you must be exhausted…wondering for so long isn’t good for you…”

PV helped you to your shared bedroom and let you have privacy to get changed into more comfortable clothing before helping you into bed and healing any injuries you may have gotten from your wonder.

After everything was settled down and you were physically well again, PV got into bed with you, pull you close, and started kissing your forehead and gently rubbing your back as you lay there.

“Please don’t scare me like that…I never want to see you hurt…”

_____________________________________

Hollyberry was excited when you had taken your stay in her castle, your new home, better than she had anticipated, you occupied her to events without complaint (maybe a bit of reluctance and though not very much), you started to give her small bits of affection like holding her hand and reciprocating her hugs even if you were still very reserved, but somethings were still worrying…

What she worried about was went you started having sudden outbursts of rage and berating her for getting to close. It was like flipping a switch in your brain at random and it was…SCARING your captor.

After leaving you be for a while and do research on what she could do to help you and came up with a solution.

That night she sat you down and gently hugged you, explaining that she understands that you’re going through a rough time and that she wanted to help you. She was going to set up meetings with a therapist and will let you roam the kingdom with less strict supervision. All she wanted was you to get better and to love her.

“All I want in return is your love…please give me your love, my dear…”

—————————————————————————————————————

White Lily Cookie understood… being forced to stay in a barely familiar place with someone who claims to be your lover but is actually your captor can take a toll on a cookie. So it was understandable that you would fall into a depression. One where you couldn’t sleep(understandable as White Lily Cookie made you sleep in the same bed as her), you refused food or drink much to her worry, and your memory was getting worse by the day due to the aforementioned symptoms and more.

It all came to a head one day when you…just stopped moving at all, you didn’t get outta bed, you stopped what little resistance you gave to White Lily Cookie’s attempts to give you affection. You accepted all the hugs, kisses and the cheek and forehead, accepted her cuddling you at night, everything. You just stopped responding.

After a thorough examination from a doctor that was called in (No, Pure Vanilla Cookie was not asked for help. He had his own darling to deal with), it was found out that your depression had gotten worse, to the point of you had fallen into a Catatonic state.

After this revelation, White Lily would try every day to get you to get up or even just open your eyes and look at her. But White Lily soon conceded and focused on being there for you, gently holding you close and letting you be her sad little doll…

“My sweetest doll…it’ll all be ok. Please just open your eyes..for me..?”

—————————————————————————————————————

Golden Cheese Cookie held you in her arms with her wings wrapped around your body. With what has happened to her in the past, Golden Cheese Cookie understands what it’s like to feel so empty and hopeless.

But you staying in your bed all day….something in her….BEGS…for you to get up again…

The next thing you know, you are subjected to bi-daily tests and a sarcophagus is built to hold you and keep you inside of it. It was built so only Golden Cheese Cookie could get you out if she ever wanted to.

And that was the hardest part, the easiest part was locking you inside. You didn’t really fight back like you used to, like you did when she first brought you to her kingdom. But that just meant you would be hers sooner…

Once you were in GCC’s digital kingdom, you felt the urge to get up, to walk around, to be free, much to Golden Cheese cookie’s satisfaction and joy. She once again hugged and held you close with her wings wrapped around you.

“It’ll be ok now…I’ve got you…and you’ll never want for anything, my gem…”

————————————————————————————————————

Im here this is here, it’s raw, it took forever- I need a nap (I pulled an all nighter for this request so I could get it out for you all😊) *Dies*

[muffinpink02]

Little wip update.

Request - closed - But still want to try blurbs- maybe short things?

Alexia Putellas

Truth Or Dare - anon idea Smut 18  - You play a card game with the rest of the team, things get hot and your gf Alexia watches it play out. (Working on)

Taking your crown part 2  Smut 18 - (Working on) 

Needy Alexia - Anon request. (begging for head) Hurting herself on the pitch (tight shorts) Smut 18 (Working on)

Needy Alexia - Anon request's. I have a few request from this (including talk down) that I'm going to merge - Smut 18

(no title) - Alexia & Reader - Life's not going they way you want. Your jobs shit, your love life is non-existent and the English weathers no better. Maybe Barcelona will change that? (longer fic) Smut 18 (Started)

Bratty Reader - Anon request (there was 2 request but ones left my inbox?) - Smut 18

Familiar Touch - Alexia & Jenni - Anon request - Smut 18 (Started)

Flatline - Alexia & Reader  Anon request Smut 18

CEO Alexia - Anon request (both of your ideas) Smut 18

Patience - Anon request (after giving birth you want Alexia. Badly.) Smut 18

No Show - Alexia reader - A blind date that Mapi and Ingrid setup, that doesn't go to plan. Smut 18 (longer fic)

Queen Of Hearts - Alexia & reader, Ingrid, Mapi, Lucy, Ona - Summary - it's 1700’s times (think game of thrones)  you’re a princess, Ingrid's your bestie. Alexia is a spanish acquaintance, (also a royal)  she's a bit of a player but you want her, she maybe wants you and lots of drama. I've started it but it might be a big story so it will take me a while. Smut 18 

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Mapi León

Coffee shop Part 2 - I've got some of this done but this story will be a bit longer. Smut 18

Cancellation - ft Mapi & reader - Summary - You and Mapi make a double booking for a cabin. Smut 18 halfway finished. Smut 18 

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Lucy & Ona

Camping - Lucy and Ona - Anon request Smut 18

Love Thy Neighbour - Lucy & Ona - Smut 18 feel free to throw some ideas for this.

Rules are Rules - playing a game (originally asked in Portuguese)  Smut 18  Anon request

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Lucy Bronze

Black Dress - Lucy & Reader -. Smut 18  (nearly finished but can’t get the smut done) Anon request

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Ona Batlle

Ona & Reader - "take it out on you" Anon request - Smut 18

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Jenni Hermoso

A Little Cocky A Little, A Little Toxic part 2 Smut 18 (anon & @codiemarin ideas)

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Alessia Russo

Like a Virgin part 2 - not started Smut 18  

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(No title) Ingrid & Alexia - Anon request Smut 18

Lucy, Alexia and reader co-writing with @lucyandalexiafan (started but unsure of when will be finished Smut 18  

Guess who part 2 Smut 18 

Deleting the below (I'm sorry ) 💔

If any of these are yours please let me know if I can delete or you want them back. Will delete in a week. I might still delete some others in the above if I feel I can't get round to them.

Alexia and Lucy request champions league final with a pressured Lucy Smut 18  Anon request

Lucy and Alessia in Italy Smut 18 Anon request

Lucy armband request. Smut 18  Anon request

I have a very detailed request for Alexia and Aitana. (Always liked each other, lots of link examples) but sadly I don’t think I can write this one. If the anon would like the idea back I can send it to you or reply to it if you would rather that? Lmn (sorry again)

[sciderman]

So Sci, my darling. My savior of poly ships. Not that I'm not loving the updates to "It came from Outer space" BUT

When are we getting Night 2 of "Truth"?👀

the… ingratitude… you TAKE what I GIVE and you LIKE it

[madwomansapologist]

i really don’t like when writers give too much personality and backstory to y/n. isn’t it supossed to be a self insert?

not my fault you’re not imaginative + if you don’t like the way i write, you can read something else

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

this glorious picture called to me

thanks for the request anon!!

Here is a closeup of Wild

and also of Hyrule’s magnificent curls :)

[malenjoyer]

Good morning 🙏🏼

I want to thank everyone their support with reblogging my stuff over the years and reblogging some of the context of the situation.

Tumblr and Instagram is filled with the most supportive people I’ve ever had the chance of meeting. The last time something like this happened, I didn’t have much support, not even from people I thought were close to me. It took me a year or two to be okay with being perceived again in fandoms. So I’m very grateful for everything.

I just wanted to post that I appreciate all of the asks and I’ve been reading all of them. I actually get anxious I’m spamming everyone too much so I probably won’t reply to everything. Please don’t feel pressured to support me financially, there’s is a free option on patreon to follow. I’ll post future project plans and occasional updates because I still love comics and I still love DC/Marvel. I do enjoy having people following along for my art/reading journey so I would always be okay with people just following for free. My brain is telling me this post is too long now so I will go 🙏🏼😭

[qtubbo]

(NOT ACTUAL NAMES FOR THIS) Here’s my sorting system I guess based on what fandom has called morning crew, since people kinda add and minus people a lot it kept confusing me:

Morning Crew (Fully Canon): Fit Pac and Tubbo, defined by how it’s most commonly referred to in canon and fandom

Morning Crew Tazercraft (Sorta Canon): Fit, Pac, Mike, and Tubbo, same as last but includes tazercraft as a whole instead of just Pac

Morning Crew DLC (Mainly Fanon but occasional references in canon): Fit, Pac, Tubbo, Mike, and Phil, defined by people who wake up early and are close to at least one member (i.e Mike and Pac close but not Mike and Tubbo)

Morning Crew Expansion Addition (only canon on rare occasions sorta fanon but kinda ???): Fit, Pac, Tubbo, Mike, Phil, Aypierre, Bagi and anyone else who plans to log in at that time, defined by people who stream early on the qsmp.

Mini Morning Crew (Fully Fanon): Richas, Ramon, Sunny, and Empanada *Most Common

Mini Morning Crew Limited (Fully Fanon): Richas, Ramon, Sunny

Mini Morning Crew Expansion Addition (Fully Fanon): Richas, Ramon, Sunny, Empanada, Tallulah, Chayanne

All are called morning crew for some reason don’t ask me I didn’t do that, it was fandom as a whole and confusing references by ccs. But yeah when someone says morning crew they could technically be talking about any of these (- mini) you’ll have to context clue it.

[kraeki]

omg thank u for answering. I am interested in any Liverpool ships & fics that are well written 😆 lol whatever fics you like!

Ok!! I mostly wanted to clarify that you were into football slash and not x reader 😅 Both are fine but I only have recs for one 😊

I kept this to recently active writers to make it manageable. Also I tried to complete this without too much thought because otherwise I would spiral but I’m so afraid I forgot someone obvious so apologies in advance 🙏

My favourite (mostly) Liverpool writers are, in alphabetical order:

@blowthemoonout / halfacre

@brinywxter

@erlingshaalands / preachingdoll

@footnotesandendings / inlovewithnight

@immortaltale / perfectpride

januarysveryown

@kloppinthekop

@konstantinostsimikas / anon on ao3 but fic is “static”

@mebiselfandi / peachpulp

suoh

@tl-trashtalk

@trentxaa / baozibb

@ollieflopkins / selkathyouth

@walkon-throughtherain / stardust_66

[nj-inn]

???

little thing! If you’re asking me anything on my main blog (nj-in) and you want to do it anonymously, I’m sorry but I’m not doing that shit anymore 😔 This one person keeps sending me fuckin hate mail anonymously and I want to see if they’ll be brave enough to send it from their actual account

There is this community I’m a part of (Stayblr), and I’m pretty sure they’re there too (and I’m pretty sure they’re fairily young, if you look at what they wrote on my main)

so yeah if you happen to follow my other blog I’m sorry this one person ruined anonymous asking for literally nothing 🫤