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miryum · 23 hours

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An arranged marriage with James Potter

Something had happened over the summer that made James Potter the most love-sick fool in all of Hogwarts. Purebloods being purebloods, it wasn’t uncommon for children to be paired up early on to secure the bloodline. While this happened mostly between the old-arching Slytherin families, an example being Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, every once in a while, the other houses would participate too.

Such was the case with James Potter and Y/n L/n. The L/n’s had spanned generations, stretching back to even the Gaunt’s time. But, such as the Gaunt family, the L/n family had run into some bad luck. Stocks didn’t go the way they wanted or something of the sort and now they were in ruining trouble.

Euphemia Potter was usually one to scoff at arranged marriages, wanting the children to find love for themselves, blood status be damned. However, the L/n’s were good friends of hers and James had written home multiple times about their daughter. From his letters, it seemed as if the two were already dating. It was a perfect coincidence. Euphemia and Fleamont agreed instantly, lifting the weight of a thousand bricks off of the patriarch of the L/n household.

However, James and Y/n were not dating. Much to James’ annoyance, the only thing between them was his unrequited infatuation towards Y/n.

So that’s where the pair found themselves at the beginning of seventh year. Y/n L/n trying to fly under the radar and not draw any attention to herself or the new ring on her finger, and James Potter doing everything in his power to show off their relationship and spoil her in front of everyone.

It began at the start of the year feast. James had an arm around Y/n’s shoulder the entire time. When a third year nervously asked if the two were dating, staring reverently up at James, the boy grinned and looked to Y/n. “I don’t know, love, are we?”

Y/n pushed James’ arm off her shoulder and indelicately said, “no. Take him.” The third year blushed and mumbled their way out of the conversation as James clutched his wounded heart.

During classes, James would loudly correct the professors from Miss. L/n to Mrs. Potter. It earned him wry smiles from McGonagall and Sprout, chuckles from Slughorn and Flitwick, and a cold glare from Y/n. The students all looked a bit confused whenever this happened, but chalked it up to the usual antics of James Potter.

In the courtyard or by the Black Lake, James would lay his head on Y/n’s lap, even if she pushed him off or was sitting with her knees up. There were roses on her bed and notes in her bag and it got to the point where Y/n didn’t even question how James had snuck into her dorm.

If Y/n ever went to Hogsmead, James was sure to follow. No matter what she bought, he would pay for. Even if she got frustrated, he would slip the galleons up onto the counter, grinning at the cashier. He wanted to show her that he could provide for her and give her a nice home. As she would walk from shop to shop, he would point out colours of shops, saying, “oh, that would be a good colour for our bathroom. Look at that little cuckoo clock! Y/n, we have to get it.”

He would follow wherever she went, asking what seemed like meaningless questions. Have you ever had any pets? Do you like the country or city better? Any aspirations for your career? What’s a place you always wanted to visit? Y/n thought nothing of it, but to James, her answers were slowly sculpting his future. Would she want a dog or a cat in our home? Where should our house be? I would like the country so our kids could run around more, but we can easily make the city work if she wants. Should I be a stay-at-home dad? Or could we juggle two careers? Where should our honeymoon be?

Quidditch games were no better, because after every goal the chaser scored – and he scored a lot – he would look to the stands, find his fiancée, and blow her a kiss. Before every match, one of his spare jerseys would be laid out on her bed, a small note attached, begging her to wear it. She never did and he always gave her a pout when he realised it. And God forbid she didn’t go to the games. Once, she had been studying for an upcoming exam and hadn’t been able to make it. James had thrown a fit. Sirius had to drag him away from Madame Hooch before he secured an entire year of detention, but the boy still refused to get in the air. Madame Hooch threatened to start the game and make Gryffindor play a catcher down, but thankfully Remus and Peter had just found Y/n and dragged her to the pitch. The moment James saw her, he beamed and kicked off, broom now in the air. They had ended up winning. James spent the afterparty with his head on Y/n’s lap, arms reaching up to encircle her waist. He continuously reminded her how awful it would’ve been if she hadn’t shown up and only shut up when she began running her fingers through his hair.

And every night, no matter if he went to bed first or she did, James would always go over to Y/n and give her a soft kiss on the forehead and a whispered, “sweet dreams.” No matter where she was, this became a daily occurance in Y/n’s life. At first, she tried to avoid it by sneaking off to the library whenever James began yawning and tossing around the idea of going to bed. But he would find her. She tried the kitchens, hoping he didn’t think to look for her there. But he would find her. She tried being in a group with her friends, in animated conversations. But he would weave his way through the group, step in front of her, and still say goodnight. It was like he had this magical map that told him where she was at all times. It was bloody infuriating.

Much to James’ dismay, no progress seemed to be made. At least she was staying faithful to her fiancé, the Marauders reassured him as James griped and moaned. He would sling himself onto a common room chair, conveniently in the earshot of his dearest. Y/n would just roll her eyes.

The majority of Hogwarts didn’t know what to do with them. The girls would swoon when they heard the new thing James Potter had come up with to woo Y/n L/n. The boys would huff and grumble about needing to step up their own game when it came to their girlfriends. James was setting the bar too high. The teachers would sit around, taking time to sip a well-deserved drink, as they complained how if L/n didn’t soon see the boy that was right in front of her, helpless to his love, then Potter was going to have a breakdown.

Yet, Y/n continued to push him away. James could be patient. He had been waiting practically seven years – he could wait a little more, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt whenever she brushed him off. She could’ve said no to the engagement. She could’ve punched or hexed him. It didn’t seem like she truly hated him, more like she was embarrassed and tired of him.

“I don’t get it,” James said finally one night. He laid out on his bed, long limbs stretching over the place as Peter and Sirius played Exploding Snap on the floor.

Remus was reading on his own bed. The werewolf sighed, knowing where this was going. “What don’t you get, Prongs?”

“Why doesn’t Y/n like me?” James murmured, looking at his friends with large, hurt eyes.

“Mate,” Sirius said. One of the cards exploded, making Peter flinch. “Listen. She likes you, yeah? How else are you able to get close to her? I swear, you were practically on top of her a couple days ago.” He scoffed and laid down a card.

James groaned loudly and exclaimed, “but I’ve tried everything! Hell, we’re literally engaged! I can’t go through an entire marriage like this. Especially not with the woman I love.”

Peter piped up, smiling sincerely at James. “Hey, I’m sure she’ll realise it soon enough. I think she loves you back. She’s just scared.”

“But I’m me!” James shouted out. “I’m not scary!” He looked around wildly at his friends. “Am I?” he asked pathetically.

“I think if you have to ask if you’re scary,” Remus pointed out, “then you’re not scary.”

Sirius grinned. “Excellent point, as always, Moony.”

Remus sighed and gave James a pointed look. “Perhaps, the best thing to do is talk to her. Since she is your future wife, after all.”

“I do talk to her!” James argued. “I ask her about her day and tell her about our pranks. She- she responds. She’s very sweet, you know, but she never shows any affection.”

“Maybe you’re pressuring her,” Peter commented. “By being all lovey-dovey. You could try being her friend first?”

James didn’t think he could do that. He already thought of Y/n as his wife. He already thought of her as one of his best friends. But what else could he do to get her to feel the same way?

The next week, James took Peter’s words into consideration. Instead of leaving flowers in her dorm, James asked if he could join her in the library for a study session. Instead of blowing her kisses during Quidditch games, he just waved. Instead of envisioning their future, he focused on the present.

It wasn’t until three weeks had passed that James noticed the results. Y/n began coming to him with some questions on schoolwork. Y/n waved back at Quidditch games, shooting him a thumbs up in encouragement. Y/n wouldn’t fiddle with her engagement ring nervously, as if worried someone would spot it.

The girl noticed her changed behaviour too. On a random Thursday, when James came to kiss her goodnight, she paused her conversation and whispered back, “sleep well,” angling her body so he wouldn’t have to reach as far to kiss her temple. Soon after, she excused herself from her friends, flustered. Y/n paced around her dorm, twisting the ring back and forth.

A knock came at the door. “Hey,” James murmured as he pushed open the door. “Are you okay?”

Y/n turned to face him. “You actually care about me, don’t you?” she whispered.

James couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course,” he replied. “Why on earth would you think otherwise?”

She shrugged. “It seemed fake, you know? Like this one big prank to single me out. But then you actually seemed excited and willing to marry me, James. Marriage. This is the rest of our lives and we haven’t even kissed!”

James cracked a smirk. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can fix that really easily.”

“But you think you’re in this for the long run?” Y/n asked desperately. “For- for the fights? The late nights? The chores? And we haven’t even talked if we want kids or not!”

“Love,” he interrupted her spiral. “Have you thought about the waking up every morning in my arms? The dancing in the kitchen for no reason? The anniversary dinners where I profess my love over and over again?” He stepped forward, placing his warm hands on her arms soothingly. “And if you want, I would love to have mini replicas of us running around, waking us up in the middle of the night because of a night terror. I would love for them to disrupt our dancing in the kitchen by demanding they want to dance too. And I would love for them to groan when they see me being all sappy towards my wife.”

How could any girl say no when James Potter was standing before her, promising her endless devotion? The kiss was slow, James’ lips slowly moving against hers. He revelled in the warmth of her body and how her head tilted to him as he cupped her cheek gently. All short and lovely and sweet, the kisses were exactly how James had dreamed.

The couple parted and the boy stared down at her. His finger went up to brush her bottom lip before murmuring, “will you marry me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

#james potter x reader #james potter #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #marauders #maraders era #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #james fleamont potter #the marauders #the maraunders map #euphemia potter #fleamont potter #james potter fic #james potter x you #hp #hp marauders #hp fanfic

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downbadf0rficppl · 8 months

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sweater weather

Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: While caught out in a snowstorm while on a mission, you resort to desperate measures to keep warm.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Canon violence, slightly injured reader, smut, manhandling, soft sex, facefucking

Repost

The mission was long. And hard. And all you wanted now was a nice, long nap.

Steve had brought up this particular mission while you two were hiding in Manila. You always preferred the warmer destinations, even when you worked for SHIELD.

It was a simple mission - too simple in hindsight - the grab-the-file-and-get-out type.

"It's Austria," you sighed, again with the cold. "I know, sweets, but it's an ex-Hydra base. We gotta check it out, make sure they don't have anything they shouldn't."

You nodded, "When do we leave?"

"Wheels up in an hour."

When you landed in Austria, your mood soured quickly. There was a foot of snow surrounding the town, and you trudged through the snow to get to the safehouse - a mile away from the nearest town. You were staking out the safe house when the entire town lost power. No lights, no heating, no appliances. It was going to be a rough couple of days.

You bundled yourself in a coat and blankets while you and Steve went over what you knew. The old Hydra base had been abandoned for a while, but it was one of the few that hadn't been on SHIELD's radar due to the lack of activity in the area. It seemed that they had missed something. It seemed very active now.

You spent the first few days making sure no one suspected you were doing anything suspicious. You stocked up on firewood - making sure you would have enough, even if you ended up snowed in for a couple of days. You tried to get out to some shops, but with the three inches of snow in the local town, no shops were open. You hoped that there was some long-life food still left in the safe house.

When you set out, you silently prayed that the power would come back on by the time you had finished dealing with the agents in the bunker. You also thanked Tony for putting a heater in your suit as part of one of his routine upgrades. You weren't freezing your ass off as you broke into the base.

The bunker itself was powered by some self-generating form of energy - no doubt developed as a result of Loki's scepter in the hands of Baron Von Strucker. The bunker was still working at peak capacity when you and Steve waltzed in the building, guns a-blazing, looking for any signs they were planning something big.

The bunker clearly had been expecting you, launching a full assault on you as soon as you guys walked in. Agents flew left, right, and centre, throwing kicks and punches. The odd bullet was fired at your heads. They were good. But you were much better. You dodged each blow, retaliating with one much harder. They may have had power but it was amateur. You were a battle-hardened professional.

One guy was lucky. He took a baton to your ribcage while you were preoccupied with two other guys. Clearly, he hadn't learned to play fair. You threw the other two guys off you, kicking your assailant into the wall. A nasty crack was the end of him.

You left the bunker exhausted, gripping a nasty bruise that was forming over your ribs. Steve wrapped an arm around you, carrying your weight as you hobbled from the bunker. He abandoned the idea quickly, your height difference making the maneuver awkward. Instead, he wrapped his arms under your thighs, scooping you up bridal style.

You nuzzled into his chest, seeking out his warmth as the snow beat down upon you both. Steve was like a human furnace, his heat radiating through you, keeping you warm even in the hostile temperatures you found yourself in. He smiled down at you, gripping you tighter into his body as you retreated into the trees.

It was about 12 miles from the bunker to the safe house and Steve knew he had to get you both there before the blizzard really hit. There he could check your ribs for the extent of the damage. He prayed that the damage wasn't bad, guilt overtaking his mind. A few seconds of preoccupation on his part led to you being injured. Steve felt terrible.

He was also on high alert. There was no exfil team. They weren't Avengers anymore. They were on their own out here - even Nat wouldn't be able to get here in time if they were attacked.

The trudge through the snow was terrible. Frost covered your hair and his beard, and the chills were racking through your body with more frequency. The snow was seeping through your tactical gear, and given that night was fast falling around them, Steve picked up the pace.

More than once, you offered to walk alongside him, saying that you'd both be faster if you could run, but then an odd step would jolt your body and the pained gasp that would leave your lips was an answer enough.

By the time you reached the house, you had fallen asleep in Steve's arms. He kicked the door open with his toe - the key being a biometric scan of his eye.

You woke up as he sat you down gently on the edge of the sofa.

"Welcome back to the land of the living sleeping beauty." He chuckled as you threw your boot at his head. He caught it easily.

You almost swooned. Sometimes, you thought Steve showed off just to get a reaction out of you. You didn't mind - it was hot.

Steve shut the door with a click, kicking off his shoes by the door. You shivered. Somehow it was colder inside the house than outside. Steve grabbed your bag, throwing a pair of soft clean clothes in your direction, before grabbing some firewood and getting a fire started.

You limped into the bathroom, the coldness making your bones ache. You made quick work of your suit - throwing it into the bathtub, before toweling yourself dry. The wetness of the suit had chaffed at your skin, and the threadbare towel was doing nothing to help the soreness of your skin, but a little itchiness was nothing compared to the hell that would be a cold. Especially since you had no idea when you were getting out of here.

"The power's still out!" Steve called from outside the bathroom. You could tell he was leaning on the door frame, ever the gentleman, even in sub-freezing temperatures.

"Yeah, no shit sherlock." You mumble under your breath as you open the door.

Steve smirked, "I caught that." You gave him a sarcastic smile back. He passed you to go dry off, "No hot water, so I dumped my suit in the tub to dry." You said, leaning on the door frame to take in the picture in front of you.

Steve's usually prim and proper appearance was dishevelled, hair run through multiple times. His suit was half-unzipped, toned chest visible under the confines of the tight fabric. A spattering of hair grew on his chest - the result of multiple back-to-back missions. And, of course, being an internationally-wanted fugitive.

He gave you a nod of confirmation, before shutting the door. You turned around to be hit by a wave of warmth. In the time it took you to pull the skin-tight tac suit off your body - which, let's be honest, took quite a while seeing as it was soaked - Steve had managed to get a fire going.

You huddled close to the fire, pulling your legs into your chest and tucking your face into your knees. You stayed there while Steve stirred in the bathroom - the occasional grunt as he bumped into the things making you giggle.

You shuffled closer to the fire, trying to steal every ounce of warmth to warm your frigid body.

"Careful, doll, you might burn yourself." You looked up at him and smiled, reaching for him as he walked towards you. He sat behind you, arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You relaxed into his arms. This was nice. You needed to do this more.

He ran his fingers over your ribs, goosebumps following in his path. You winced slightly as he applied pressure. "Not broken." He whispered, hot breath ghosting over your ear. You shivered lightly.

Steve pulled you into a chair, before retrieving the first aid kit. He sat you down, before sinking to his knees in front of you. You clenched your thighs slightly, the action pushing your mind to filth. If Steve noticed, he said nothing. He rolled up your sleeves and your trousers, revealing a plethora of small cuts and bruises that littered your body. Steve made quick work of treating your superficial wounds, smiling sympathetically when you winced at the sting of antiseptic against the cuts.

He snuck a hand under your shirt, locking eyes with you in a silent request for permission. You pulled up your shirt, revealing the large bruise over your ribs. There was a red mark in the centre of the bruise where the pole had hit you. Steve gently wiped it with an alcohol wipe, before applying Arnica cream to the bruise. You watched him tenderly patch you up.

"I'm sorry." His words surprise you.

"What?"

"I should have been there. To protect you."

You scoffed, "In case it slipped your memory, you were preoccupied. It's not your fault."

He nodded silently, rolling your shirt back down. He started to pack up the kit, but you grabbed his arm, dragging him back to sit where you had been sat moments before.

"You're hurt too, Captain," you said, sinking to your knees in front of him in the same way he had. The effect you had on him was far more visible. His face blushed a bright red, and you smiled coyly.

You bandaged up the graze on his leg, hands lingering longer than they needed to. You pushed yourself off the floor and occupied yourself with the knots in his shoulders. The adrenaline made both your bodies tense, but while you had had the time to relax in Steve's arms, he hadn't had that same luxury.

You ran your fingertips over his shoulders, kneading the particularly tight parts. Steve let out a low groan in appreciation, resting his forehead on your stomach. The sound sent electricity through your body, heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

Steve's hands came around to rest on your thighs, pulling you closer into his body like he couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment.

You leaned to whisper into his hair, "It's not your fault, Steve." His hold on you only became tighter.

You stood like that for a while, your arms running up and down Steve's back while he convinced himself that you were fine.

He walked out back to grab more firewood, promising he'd be back in a few seconds. You smiled to yourself, fingers ghosting over your lips. The thought of kissing Steve was overwhelming, but you didn't want to push him when you weren't sure of exactly how he felt.

You had a pretty good idea though.

Ever since you had joined the Avengers, you had been close. But with the multiple near-end-of-the-world experiences, it never seemed like the right time to explore those feelings. Steve had always been affectionate, keeping close to you, both in public and private. He had bought you flowers regularly when you lived in New York, always remembered your birthday, protected you when Hydra agents and internet trolls attacked you. In return, you had stood by him in every fight that you could - you always had his back. He could count on that. When the dispute over the Sokovia accords had happened, you agreed with Steve - even if that meant you lost some close friends. In the years that followed, you had fought countless enemies side-by-side. Bucky sometimes joined you, Sam too. But for the most part, you two had become almost intimately acquainted.

You crept towards the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets for any long-life food that might have been kept there. You pulled a can out of the cupboard. Baked Beans. You pulled another can out of the cupboard. Baked Beans. And another. And another. And another. All beans.

Buried at the back of the cupboard was a single tin of Chicken Noodle Soup that was so out of date, the mold in it had probably bred a new organism. Baked beans it was then.

You heated the beans up in a pan, placing them over the roaring fire to warm them up. You huddled up to the fire again, chills wracking through your body, keeping the pan over the fire all the while. After a while, with the tomato sauce bubbling slightly, you pulled the pan away from the heat and stood up to serve it into the two cracked bowls that were left in the safe house. Tony had done a good job at emptying the safe houses after the end of the Avengers.

Your hands shook as you evenly distributed the beans. You could hardly bear to be this far away from the fire. You needed more layers, but your coat and your tac suit were soaked through, meaning you had nothing else to wear.

Your hands shook violently again as another shiver ripped through you. You tucked your hands under your armpits and raised your shoulders to cover your ears.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted something fuzzy draped on the edge of the sofa. Steve's jumper. He's been wearing it when he arrived in Austria but claimed that it was far too thick for him - immediately discarding it when you had entered the safe house. You didn't know how it had slipped your mind earlier.

You slipped it on - Steve hadn't lied. It was incredibly thick and cozy. And also quite large, dwarfing your figure, making you feel safe and warmed. You pushed up the sleeves and carried the bowls to the floor in front of the fire.

You noticed an extra pair of Steve's socks tucked into the front of his backpack. You quickly stole them, slipping them onto your feet. You were grateful that Steve was an over-packer.

You crouched back in front of the fire, pulling the jumper over your knees, balancing your bowl on your kneecaps.

You heard Steve before you saw him. He was carrying a pile of firewood in his arms and grumbling about how 'the stupid snow got in his boots and now his socks are wet'. You giggled.

"Glad you find my torment funny, sweets." He said, his eyes still trained on the wood in his eyes, "How would you feel if I got trench foot, and was benched for-" He stopped abruptly.

You looked up at him. His gaze was trained on your body, eyes darkening by the second.

"You shouldn't have done that, sweets."

Your face breaks into uncertainty. Maybe you had completely misread the situation. Maybe Steve only wanted to be friends.

The way he grabbed your face, though, told you differently.

He stooped low to cradle your face in his hands. He placed small kisses all over your face, pecking you like a bird would its food.

"You're mine." He whispered between each one. The declaration made heat pool in your stomach and you couldn't help but laugh. You grabbed his face with your hands, and pressed your lips to his, gently at first. Steve ran his tongue against your lips, begging to be let in.

You moaned as his tongue explored each and every part of your mouth. You could feel him getting harder every second that passed and that only spurred you on.

"Steve," his name fell from your lips like a prayer, "please."

He picked you up and you let out a soft gasp.

"You like that, sweetheart?"

You nodded, words cast from your mind. He chuckled, lust colouring his tone as he shuffled you in his arms.

"Makes me feel safe." You whispered, nestling your head into his shoulder. "Like it when you carry me."

He smiled and laid you on the sofa gently. He pressed deep and sensual kisses on your lips, large and warm hands caressing your body.

You arched your back as he ran a knuckle over your nipple. You were hopelessly horny, begging for friction.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"You. Only you." You whimpered.

"Where do you want me?"

"Everywhere. Please, Steve." You were begging. Steve's eyes lit up.

"Want me to love you, pretty baby?" Steve said, dragging his fingers up your sides.

"Steve, please!" You were close to tears.

He pulled your panties down, fingers slipping in between your wet folds.

"Fuck, darling, you're making a mess." You shuddered, moans spilling out from your lips. He pulls his trousers down, dick curling into his stomach.

"You ready, sweetheart?"

You nodded in response.

"Good." He slid into you gently, your walls stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, head tossed back in pleasure.

He was bigger than you had thought - you grabbed his bicep as he brushed your g-spot.

“S’big Stevie." You whimpered, "M’all full.”

"Yeah baby? You like that?" His hands came to rest on the bulge in your stomach.

The pleasure exploded like a million fireworks in your stomach. He started moving, setting a brutal pace, pushing in and out of you. His cock brushed your g-spot with every thrust, and soon enough you were seeing stars.

"Love it, Stevie! Please don't stop!" He drilled into you, muttering sweet praises.

The coil in your stomach tightened with each thrust. “M’not gonna last.” you whimpered softly.

“S’okay baby." He praised, "Come for me, pretty girl."

You came with a silent cry, shuddering as a wave of arousal washed over you. Steve rode out your orgasm with you, before pulling out. He stood up to head to the bathroom, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the sofa. You sank to your knees in front of him, again, and licked a stripe from the base to the tip of his cock.

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to."

You placed a kiss on the tip of his cock before taking it in your mouth and sucking on it. You wrapped your right hand around the base of his cock and used the other to massage his balls. Steve drew a sharp breath in above you. You wrapped his hand around your hair, giving him permission to fuck your face. He grabbed your hair tightly and fucked up into your face, choking you with the brutal pace that he set.

"Oh, God, I'm gonna cum," Steve said, slightly relaxing his pace as he moved to pull out. You pushed your face further onto his cock.

Ropes of his cum coated the back of your throat as he came with moans of your name. Your eyes welled up as your throat filled with his seed. You swallowed it, much to Steve's surprise. He pulls you into his lap, before carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

You settle on the sofa in his lap, kissing lightly over and over again.

You turn your head to the fire. "Shit."

"What?" Steve looked at you in concern.

"The food. S'gone cold."

He burst into laughter, resting his forehead on your shoulder. He placed a small kiss on your shoulder. You could get used to this.

fin.

buy me a coffee

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #no y/n

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topguncortez · 5 months

Note

Happy grad!!!

Could you please write an angst writing with reader hurting swayman using the prompt "Why would you say that? " ?

Thank you!

Only Love Can Hurt Like This - J. Swayman

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

warnings: angst, issues with body image, online bullying, cursing, miscommunication, hockey inaccuracies

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: what was meant to be a cute video taken by the Bruins social media team, turned into a never ending cycle of rude online comments and threats. What's worse, is your fiancé's in the first round of the playoffs and he can read you like the back of his hand

Life with Jeremy Swayman was how one would think it would be. He was as charismatic and sassy as he was on the ice and in interviews. He cared for those he loved, he did everything in his power to keep a smile on your face. He was the type of boyfriend who would buy you “just because” flowers and cook your favorite meal when there was even the slightest hint of a frown on your face. He was the type of boyfriend who knew when your period was going to start, and would make sure to be stocked up on your favorite snacks and any supplies that you would need. He was the type of boyfriend who did his best to shield you away from the hate and the trolls that came along with being with a hockey player.

Jeremy had seen first hand how hard some people could be on the internet. He did his best to ignore the comments and the tweets, but sometimes, drowning in your own despair after losing a game was much needed therapy.

It was actually your idea to keep your relationship private. Jeremy was the type of person who loved out loud. He loved showing off the people he loved, wanted to boast about their accomplishments to anyone and everyone who would listen. He didn’t necessarily like being the center of attention. . . but he also reveled in it. But you were the complete opposite. You never were one to post about everything single thing you did on social media. You didn’t like to be the center of attention or have everyone’s eyes on you. For the first couple months of dating, you managed to fly under the radar, which was an accomplishment in itself, but one instagram story posted by your golden retriever of a boyfriend had boosted you from “internet ghost” to “who's the girl with Jeremy Swayman.”

The speculation firestorm had started and it ultimately led to some tech-savvy fans finding your instagram and screenshotting all of your personal photos to post on their fan accounts. At first you found it kind of sweet, the captions on the fan accounts calling you beautiful and a queen, and “Mrs. Sway” (even though at that moment in time you had only been dating for three months). But then it all started to get weird, some people finding out your birth place, your parents names, where you went to high school, where you went to college. Then the hate accounts started to rise. The vile, awful comments about you and your appearance, how you are only with Jeremy because he’s Jeremy Swayman, and one fan went as far as commenting what apartment building you lived in.

You had never felt so violated and at a loss what to do in your life. You loved Jeremy with all your heart. You loved everything about him. It nearly broke you in two to sit down with him, tears streaming down your face as you told him about what had been going on. You thought that he would break up with you, right there in then. If you couldn’t handle being in the spotlight, then you couldn’t be the one for him. You had been replaying in your mind how you would handle it when those five words would leave his lips. Except, the opposite happened.

Jeremy wrapped you up in the tightest, most bone crushing hug he could muster, and cried as he tucked his face into your neck. He had no idea that his one silly instagram story of you singing karaoke at the bar would turn into a mess of this caliber. He felt horrible that his “fans” were saying awful things about you and had threatened your safety. A sick feeling arose in his stomach at thought of something happening to you because of his job.

“I’m so sorry,” Jeremy sniffled, pulling away from you, “I never wanted this to happen, I just didn’t. . . please don’t leave me. I-I’ll say something or make a post- you can move in with me! I have a state of the art security so you don’t have-”

“Wait,” You cut off his rambling, grabbing his hands, “Leave you?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said defeated, “That’s what you’re doing here right? I mean, I totally get it. You have every right to feel protected and safe and not have to-” You grabbed his face with both hands, and cut his rambling off with a searing kiss. Jeremy immediately reacted, his hands going to your hips, as you kissed him.

You pulled back breathlessly, looking into those brown eyes that you loved so much, “Jeremy Ryan Swayman, I am not leaving you. Never in a million years would I think of leaving you. . . unless you-” And now it was Jeremy’s turn to cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Never,” Jeremy whispered against your lips, “Never ever. You’re stuck with me.”

And for the past three years, that’s exactly where you have been. Stuck with Jeremy Swayman. You watched him grow as a goaltender and a player, which had to be one of your favorite things. He had gained so much confidence in the past three seasons with the Bruins.

Since that day you broke down to him about the fans, the two of you had done everything you possibly can to keep your relationship off of social media. You deleted all your old social media, and made new private accounts. You and Jeremy moved into a new apartment together (he couldn’t stand the thought of someone finding out where he lived and putting you at risk, again.) Most fans had thought that you and Jeremy broke up, since your lack of presence on his social media, but the eagle eyed ones still spotted you at home games, sitting a couple rows up from the goalie net. Every so often a video of you at a game, down at the glass with Ully’s or Jeremy’s family would come up on your social media. But for the most part, the fans had completely forgotten you existed.

That was, until the playoffs had rolled around.

You were beyond excited for Jeremy and the Bruins to make another play-off run, after last season's heartbreak. You could remember the tear stained face of your lovable boyfriend as he walked out of the locker room and collapsed into your embrace. Brad and David did their best to console Jeremy, but he was in the state of mind to not listen to them. He was the goalie afterall, his one job was to block the other team from scoring and he failed.

This year though, Jeremy and the Bruins were ready to make a run for the Cup. They wanted to go all the way, and were going to do all they could to get that Cup back in Boston. Though, Jeremy was excited for playoff hockey, he was also excited to see you in your WAG jacket. You opted out of getting one last year, not really feeling like you fit in amongst the rest of the wives and girlfriends of the players. You hated comparing yourself to them, but you couldn’t help it. You weren’t tall and skinny and blonde and a model like most of them. Hell, you were a third grade teacher, making not nearly a quarter of what Jeremy makes. You felt out of place amongst the WAGs. But this year was different, you had somewhat found your place, and you had the Ullmark family to thank for that.

“Do you know what they look like?” Jeremy asked as he scrubbed the dishes after dinner.

“No idea,” You shook your head, “Katrina and Rebecca handled all the design and stuff. I just had to go in and get measured.”

“Your first WAG jacket,” Jeremy said with a dreamlike sigh, and looked over at you, that boyish grin on your face, “We should frame it after we win the cup,” You rolled your eyes, “No seriously! We can hang it next to my UMaine jersey. It’s poetic.”

“Just another thing in this house with your name on it.”

“Ahem,” He cleared his throat, pointing his finger at you, “It’s your name too.”

A blush coated your cheeks as you looked at the diamond ring he had proposed to you with about three months ago. It was the most beautiful diamond that you had ever seen, a gift given to Jeremy from his grandma. The two of you had been waiting to tell more people about the engagement, but also wanted to wait until the season was over. If things could go Jeremy’s way, you’d be neck deep in the middle of wedding planning about now.

“Soon,” You corrected, putting the last dish away.

Jeremy dried his hands on a dish towel, before throwing it on his shoulder. He grabbed your hips, pulling you to him, “Soon enough,” He placed a kiss on your lips, “I bet you’ll look so hot in your WAG jacket. You already drive me crazy when you wear my jersey. Now you get your own custom made jacket with my name on it? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you.”

You shook your head, patting his chest, “You’ll have to try, big boy.”

Jeremy let out a groan as you walked out of his embrace. You put an extra swing in your hips as you walked to the bedroom, knowing he was watching your ass the entire way until you turned down the hall.

— — —

It felt weird driving to TD Garden without Jeremy by your side. You had never been here without him, and felt a bit like a fish out of water as you parked in his designated spot, which was right next to Moa. You felt a wave of comfort roll over you as she smiled at you, getting out of her car to greet you.

“You’re here!” She smiled.

“I am,” You wiped your sweaty hands on your jeans, “Is this okay? Does my hair look okay? What about my makeup? I never put any on except for important events.”

“You look great,” Moa said, and you could tell she was genuine. You had spent a whole forty-five minutes staring at your closet and another forty-five trying on different outfits. All Katrina and Rebecca had said was to dress your best for the photo shoot, and you weren’t entirely sure what that meant. Luckily, being a teacher, you had an arsenal of clothing for business casual. But you weren’t sure if your definition of business casual met their definition of business casual.

“I’m nervous,” You mumbled, picking at your hands.

Moa grabbed your hands, “I know. But there’s nothing to worry about! It’s just the girls!”

“Yeah. . .” You sighed, as Moa threw her arm around you and walked towards the locker room where the rest of the wives and girlfriends were.

The jackets were better than you could ever imagine. The brown leather looked simple and chic, with the logo on the front and the players’ last name on the back. You couldn’t help but feel a bit teary eyed as you ran your fingers over the stitching of your fiance’s last name. He was right, maybe you should frame it when the playoffs are over.

Donned in your Bruins leather jacket, you and the other wives/girlfriends made your way to the plaza in front of TD Garden. The girls so naturally clumped together to take pictures, as you stood somewhat awkwardly in the midst of them. It wasn’t until Katrina pulled you to stand next to her, and wrapped her arm around your shoulders that the tension in your body eased. An easy smile arose on your face as you posed with the girls in different locations.

“Moa and Y/N, can we get a video of you two doing the Ully-Sway hug?” One of the social media interns asked. You eagerly nodded your head, getting pulled by Moa. It was easily one of your favorite traditions in Bruins hockey, watching your bubbly, happy fiance hug his best friend after a winning game. There was something about watching two grown men, donned in goalie pads, throw themselves at one another and spin around in circles that brought a warm and fuzzy feeling to your belly and a bright smile on your face.

You didn’t even think twice as you recreated your fiance’s famous hug with Moa. Laughter filled the air as you hugged her tight and spun in a circle. You didn’t even think twice when you got the tag on tiktok, watching the video in comparison to Ully and Sway’s over and over. You didn’t even think twice when you sent the link to the tiktok to Jeremy asking “who did it better?” You didn’t even think twice as the Bruin’s comment section was filled with fans tagging you and asking if you were back and how they knew that they saw you at games.

You didn’t even really think about the video being on social media, until the hate comments started rolling in.

The video hadn’t been up for more than 24 hours when the trolls and the “fans” started spewing their hateful words that you had tried so hard to fight off for the past three years. You tried your best to not pay attention to the comments as the video spread across tiktok and onto instagram and twitter. But the innocent video of two friends recreating their husbands iconic hug, turned into fans posting pictures and videos of you leaving TD Garden with Jeremy, or out on a run by yourself, or even some of the photos the WAGs had tagged you in. The pictures didn’t necessarily bother you, as much as the comments did.

“She’s still with him!”

“Duh, gotta play the part to get the cash.”

“Dying for one of the WAGs to give her a makeover.”

“How well do you think she sucked d for the jacket????”

“I thought we got rid of her”

“It’s nice to see a midsized wag”

“Since when did puck bunnies become wags”

“Living every puck bunnies dream”

“I miss his old gf, she was prettier”

“She's probably for the team”

“He will realize soon when she leaves him if he doesn't get the cup”

“And how many more does he have in other cities?”

You were sitting at your vanity, fighting with your inner thoughts when you should’ve been getting ready for the first game in the playoff series. It was a big night for Jeremy, and all you wanted to do was get dressed in your outfit that you and Moa had gone shopping for and wear that beautiful brown leather jacket with your future last name on it. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t bring yourself to take your hair out of the curlers you had begrudgingly put in your hair, or start your makeup routine, or even get dressed as you sat in one of Jeremy’s dress shirts and panties. Jeremy was singing loudly along to his pre-pre game playlist in the bathroom, not paying any mind to the war that was going on in your head.

The comments had gotten worse since some of the wives posted pictures of everyone in their jackets. Some fans had found your new instagram account, tagging you in the comments. You felt horrible that their nastiness was being left on other people’s posts. It made you feel as though they were growing to resent you, as no one had reached out and invited you to sit in the box, until Moa did this morning. It took all your strength to not break down and cry, knowing that you had been left out of planning of something, when you finally felt like you had made it “in” to the group.

The comments were also taking a toll on yourself image. You took longer than necessary staring at your naked body in the mirror, analyzing every stretch mark, scar, and blemish on your skin. You pulled and pinched at your belly, your hip dips, your chin, and your thighs. All the places you had been insecure about the most, the fans seemed to figure out and make comments on. It was truly amazing how the comments could drive so deep into your heart.

“Baby!” Jeremy’s cheerful voice sounded out as he came out of the bathroom, dress pants on his perfectly chiseled body. You clenched your jaw, fighting back the anger. Normally, you’d be drooling over the sight of his perfect abs on display, his pants low on his hips, but right now it made you angry. Sure, he followed the meal plan that his trainers gave him, but he’d also have his cheat days. But you’d never know looking at him. You’d never know that this man could pack away a dozen donuts like it was nothing. But you felt like you'd pop the button in your jeans if you even ate one.

“Babe?” Jeremy asked, catching your attention, “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you dressed?”

You blinked, looking down at your makeup brushes laid out in front of you, “I got distracted.”

Jeremy wasn’t buying it for a second. He knew you like the back of his hand, and could sense something was off from a mile away. He walked over to you, kneeling down in front of you and grabbing your hands, “Honey, look at me.”

You glanced at him, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. You had been trying everything that you could to hold back from breaking down. Tonight and this playoff season was too important to Jermey and the team that you couldn’t be breaking down in tears over some stupid people on the internet. But the way Jeremy was looking at you, searching your eyes for any idea of what was bothering you, the flood gates broke.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed.

“Oh honey,” Jeremy cooed, pulling you into his strong arms. Your body shook as you cried, his hand on the back of your head, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and running a comforting hand over your hair. Hearing you cry made his heart break, and tears well up in your own eyes. He tried so hard to make sure that you never had a reason to cry like this, and he felt like he had failed you. When your sobs had been reduced to sniffles, Jeremy pulled you back gently, his hands cupping your face and brushing away the stray tears.

“Please,” Jeremy pleaded, “Tell me what’s wrong? And don’t lie to me. I know something’s been bothering you for a few days now. Please tell me, so I can fix it.”

You shook your head, a sad smile on your face, “You can’t fix this.”

“Well, I can try.”

You let out a shuddering breath as you grabbed your phone, opening up your camera roll and showing him the screenshots of a series of comments from several different posts. Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at them. You watched as he went from confused to angry to sad. He looked up at you, his brown eyes wet with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You shrugged, wiping your nose, “Cause you’re busy and it’s the playoffs and I shouldn’t be bothering you with this-”

“Bothering me with this stuff? Why would you say that? You’re not bothering me with anything,” Jeremy shifted closer to you, “You are my life, Y/N. You are my everything. For better or for worse. In good times and bad. I might not be able to fix all this, but I will do everything I possibly can to make it better.”

The tears fell even harder as you looked at him. He looked torn to pieces that you had kept this from him, and it made you feel horrible. You thought you were protecting him by not bringing this up, but it had made you feel even worse going through all this alone.

“I just feel. . . I feel like I have fucked everything up,” You admitted, “They’re leaving comments on the girls’ posts, and on the Bruins’ page. I mean, it makes sense that the girls didn’t want to invite me to the box tonight.”

“What?” Jeremy’s eyebrows rose in confusion.

“They didn’t invite me to the box,” You said, your voice sounding small.

“No, baby, no,” Jeremy shook his head, running hand down his face, “I. . .” He sighed, “I let it slip at practice that I proposed.”

“Jer!”

“I’m sorry!” Jeremy exclaimed, “I know, I know you wanted to wait until after the playoffs to say something, but. . . you sent that video and Ully said something about “our girls look good” and I said “you mean our wives,” He shook his head, “Ully told Moa and Moa told Katrina and Katrina wanted to surprise you with a small engagement type party in the box.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise?”

Jeremy nodded, “It was supposed to be a surprise. I didn’t know that all this other stuff was going on, but I promise! I promise. . . they weren’t leaving you out, baby.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Tears welled up in your eyes again, and this time Jeremy was confused, “That’s the nicest thing anyone has done for me.”

Jeremy felt his heart flutter in his chest, as he wiped a tear away from your cheek, “I’m sorry I let it slip and didn’t tell you about the surprise,” He grabbed both of your hands in his, “And I am so sorry about the things they are saying, but none of it is true. It is the farthest thing from true. You are my everything. You are the reason I wake up in the morning, the reason I smile, the reason I get out on the ice every day. You are the reason for everything. And nothing is going to change that.”

“You don’t care that I don’t look-”

“I’m not even going to let you finish that sentence cause that’s just ridiculous,” He shook his head, “I want you. I will always want you. Even when we’re 80 years old, and I’ve taken one too many pucks to the head and can’t wipe my own ass, I will want you, as long as you will have me.”

“I’ll want you too,” You said, a tearful smile on your face, “And you’ve taken one too many pucks to the head now,” He chuckled, bringing your knuckles up to his lips.

“I’ll keep taking pucks to the head if it means that it makes you smile.”

“As long as you have all your teeth.”

“No promises.” You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him away. Jeremy stood up, and gently tilted your head up so he could place a kiss on your forehead, “Fuck what they say cause nothing matters. The hate they spew is because they’re jealous and miserable in their own lives. What matters is you and me. As long as we are happy, they can just fuck right off.”

You smiled up at him, “I’ll always be happy with you.”

tagging: @roosterdobson cause you're the reason I'm obsessed with a man who catches rubber pucks for a living

#jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman imagine #Jeremy swayman fan fic #Jeremy swayman fic #Jeremy swayman x reader #Jeremy swayman x you #nhl hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfic

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rjzimmerman · 4 months

Text

Excerpt from the Substack Distilled:

In the last few months, the Biden administration has quietly passed multiple federal policies that will transform the United States economy and wipe out billions of tons of future greenhouse gas emissions.

The new policies have received little attention outside of wonky climate circles. And that is a problem.

Earlier this year, I wrote that Biden has done more to mitigate climate change than any President before him. For decades, environmentalists tried and failed to convince lawmakers to pass even the most marginal climate policies. It wasn’t until Biden took office that the logjam broke and the climate policies flowed. And yet few American voters are hearing this story in an election year of huge consequence.

It’s been two and a half months since I wrote that article. In that short time, the Biden administration has passed a handful of climate policies that will collectively cut more than 10 billion tons of planet-warming pollution over the next three decades, more than the annual emissions of India, Russia, Japan, South Korea, Canada, Saudi Arabia, and the entire continent of Europe—combined.

One climate policy that flew under the radar recently was the administration's latest energy efficiency rule, unveiled at the beginning of May. The new rules will reduce the amount of energy that water heaters use by encouraging manufacturers to sell models with more efficient heat pump technology. The new regulation is expected to save more energy than any federal regulation in history.

Most people give little thought to how the water in their homes is heated, but water heaters are the second-largest consumer of energy in the average American home and one of the largest sources of climate pollution in the country.

A few days before the administration announced its water heater efficiency rules, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) announced another sweeping policy.

According to the new rules, existing coal power plants will need to either shut down or install carbon capture technology capable of removing 90% of their carbon pollution. The policy will also require any new natural gas power plants that provide baseload power—the ones that run throughout the day and night, as opposed to the peaker plants that only run for a small fraction of hours in the year—to install carbon capture technology.

The new power sector rules are effectively a death blow to coal power in America, which has slowly faded over the last two decades but still emits more carbon emissions than almost every country in the world.

The water heater rules and power plant regulations will help the country meet its goal of cutting emissions by 50% by 2030. But impactful as they will be, they weren’t the most important climate policy that the Biden administration passed in the last two months.

That honor goes to the EPA’s tailpipe rules, which are set to transform the auto industry over the next decade.

Today the transportation sector is the largest source of climate pollution in the United States. Within the sector, passenger cars and trucks are the biggest contributors to emissions. While electric vehicle adoption has grown in recent years, America lags behind many other countries in decarbonizing its vehicle stock.

The EPA’s new rules will force automakers to reduce the amount of pollution and carbon emissions that come from their vehicles. The federal policy doesn’t specifically mandate that automakers produce EVs or stop selling gas-powered cars but instead regulates the average carbon emissions per mile of a manufacturer's entire fleet over the next decade. That means automakers can still sell gas-guzzling, carbon-spewing trucks in 2035. They’ll just need to sell a lot more EVs or plug-in hybrids to bring their average fleet emissions down if they do.

Like the power plant rules, the EPA’s new auto regulations are designed to avoid being thrown out by a conservative and hostile Supreme Court.

#President Biden #climate action

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tswhiisftteedr · 8 months

Note

As a request please give me some lewd Ruggie Bucchi Headcanons if you have any!! I’m starving for content!!!!! <3 <3 <3 please and thank you!!

Giggle Call ☆ Headcanon + Drabble

☆Pervy!Top!Ruggie x Yuu!Reader :

The story of how Ruggie turn poor unfortunate(fortunate?) you, into his perfect little toy~

Warnings: Mature content, Ruggie is aged up to 18+ and NCR is an actually college, public sex, manipulation, gaslighting, fingering, handjob, oral (female, male and gn receiving). Mind break? Not proofread.

Author Note: Ok this request gives me so much liberty lol. This is Ruggie with a yuu!reader, fem, male, and gn. But the actual act of sex will be gn. Anyways Hope you like it!

Note: Fem!yuu!reader wears a skirt, meanwhile male and gn wear pants. The only reason is because I have a fem!yuu oc that I made a uniform for, and I like the idea of reader wearing it. For the beginning Headcanons fem and male reader are cis, but if this gets enough post likes/or it is highly requested, I don’t mind writing another version for trans readers! Another thing, this is my first male!amab!reader work, I personally don’t think I would do masc and/or amab request just yet. This is more of a going with flow type of work. I honestly just felt like including masc!amab content, but it’s something I won’t ask a request as I am still a beginner and work with fem!afab content is easier for me. By the way a giggle call is what you call a hyena’s laught.

☆ More under the cut. ☆

It all begin when you first arrived in twisted wonderland. As you approach the dark mirror, pronouncing your name to it, a somewhat odd odeur was what Ruggie smelled from you.

The scent that came off you was definitely out of place, especially for this school. When the Mirror denounced you as a magicless human, Ruggie thought that was it for a moment. But, Ruggie had been around magiclessor low magic kids back home, and your aroma was definitely different from theirs. Yours was something he had never encountered before, out worldly he dare say!

Despite he’s usual reclined state towards anything but food, his interest was peeked, so he had made a mental note to keep an eye open for you.

(Jump to the next divider for male!reader, and the one after that for gn!reader)

Fem!Reader

He just continued to walk towards the school building, but as he momentarily grazed your side he did a step back. Sure the Pomefiore guys were the pretty type, so feminine guys weren’t foreign to this hyena. But he was a beastmen and one who trusted his sense of smell at that. His nose had told him something as he walk passed you; The fact you were defenetly a girl, no doubt about it.

Now having fully you on his radar, not something to look around for when the occasion was given, Ruggie was going to have his fun with the new pretty girl on campus.

———————————————————————

The next day he saw you brandish a shiny new uniform, with modifications to the regular clothing. Your little alterations to the articles made them ‘more you’ he thought.

You had replacing the usual pair of pants with a skirt that was a bit longer than a mid-thigh one but didn’t reach the knee. It was beautifully embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, you also wore a pair of stockings/tights to accompany it.

Honestly, it looked good, and ‘Hey, he wasn’t the type to complain at a look of those pretty legs.’ As he casually tried to pass of his staring of your body to his friends, his mind was only focus on one thought that concern your skirt. ‘Easy access.’

He knew he wasn’t suppose to drool at the first hot chick he saw, especially one he had just first seen day prior and had never even talk to for that matter.

But ‘come on!’ What kind of reasonable beastman would not ongle as such a tasty treat like your self.

After the initial process of staring at you in the hallways and the classroom, Ruggie became conscious to the fact that he share most of his classes with you this semester. That meant he actually had the chance to get closer to you! And things only went down hill since then...

———————————————————————

The day after his ‘enlightenment’ as he put it to Leona. Ruggie had introducing himself to you, acting normal as ever, like he wasn’t just thinking foul things about you.

Quickly after being aquatinted, he made a point to be your sitting buddy in every class your shared. Getting closer after every class.

His behaviour started sweet, at least form your perspective, you were unaware of the true depravity behind the eyes of the man you had began to call your friend.

First step of his plan was to complete isolate you, so he slowly separated you from your usual friend group during lunch, making you sit with his instead. He had already done so with your shared so classes so you weren’t suspicious enough to see a red flag in such actions, ‘he just wanted some friendly attention, right?’

His secret depraved thoughts soon transform to reality. In the debut of it all, he would graze you more often, hold your hand longer when dragging you off somewhere, his hugs were tighter and his hand would travel lowered and lower down you back after each interaction.

Contact with him was now so common, that he was comfortable being more ‘handsy’.

He would smack your your ass as passed you, saying that it just his way to say hello now that you were ‘close friends.’

He would grope your boobs and play it off as a prank.

He would ‘fake bang you’ any time you happen to bend over in front of him. Making his friend groupe laugh.

———————————————————————

At some point these behaviours were completely normalized to you, but only from Ruggie, ‘he was your best friend after all and he was the only one allowed to do so!’ You would tell off anyone who tried to copy his actions towards you and he thrived in such reaction.

He was really molding you into the girl perfect his little fantasy, the type of chick that would let him do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t just that by now, in his own twisted way he had fallen for the charms of your personality, not just your body. So from here on he ought to himself that you would be his girlfriend before the end of the school year!

———————————————————————

With the new found confidence from your compliance, Ruggie made it his next goal to persuade you into letting him touch you.

And not in the way he did previously, his ‘measly groping’ wasn’t anything like what he was going to do to you now….

It all started at the beginning of the second semester with this pervy hyena offering you a massage.

And ‘hey why not, you’re sure he must have done something along those lines for his lazy lion of a dorm leader.’ It’s true that Ruggie did give Leona massages from time to time, when the lion requested them. But, yours was a ‘special one’.

He would start with your neck & shoulders taking care of the knots in those areas, than your arms, and your hands.

He would then make you lie stomach down, working your upper to lower back. Moving on to your ass, under the pretext that; ‘there’s muscle in there too’ so he needed to knead it!

After that he took care of the back of your legs, then flipped you onto your back with ease. Shocking you at the display of strength.

He soon continued his ‘massage’ with the front of your thighs. His hands going higher, and higher until he reach your panties. He began to play with your panty line from under your skirt, which caused you to speak out.

“What are you doing Ruggie?!!” “Chill out, I’m just giving a massage.” He replied nonchalantly, “But this isn’t-“ “Come on don’t be such a fucking prude, I’m making you feel good aren’t I? You should definitely be thanking me, instead of berate me. So, now shut up like a good girl and let me work on the massage.”

He knew he was manipulative in that instant, but he could help but grin at the fact that you did stop protesting like he asked you to. Replacing your sounds of disapproval, by sweet gasps and moans, just for him to enjoy. Meanwhile it had came to him that he had conditioned you to accept anything he dished out, you were totally submissive to his words and actions, this was something that he loved.

He soon stop the simple fiddle of your pussy through the fabric of your panties, to pull in the fabric aside and fingering you. He giggled every time your body would jerk, he held down your legs to prevent from escaping as he started eating you messily. Oh, and you came hard. Harder than you ever by your own fingers, maybe that’s why you were so compliant with his next actions…

The pervert had begin to finger you in class, making it a game of if you can keep quiet enough to not get caught. Too bad for you, even if you were completely silent most students knew what was taking place at the back of the classroom, after all Ruggie wasn’t the only beastman in your class. And those guys all had developed smell and hearing.

He made you jerk him off at lunch in the cafeteria, hand under the table. Blow him in the unfrequented hallways, and texted you to join him in the bathroom stalls during your unshared classes, so he could fuck you!

This went on to the point that you couldn’t touch yourself without thinking about him, and you certainly couldn’t cum without his help.

He had made you so dependent on him for pleasure, you were at his neck and call, even accepting to be his girlfriend the moment he asked you halfway through the second semester. It was to late for you, your previous friends couldn’t help you anymore, looks like Ruggie did do well on his promise.

Male!Reader

He just continued to walk towards the school building, but as he momentarily grazed your side he couldn’t help but appreciate your scent. Sure he was used to guys around him, despite that, for some reason the way you smelled was so appealing to him. He felt almost bewitched at that, ‘was he and the dark mirror or are you actually magicless?’

Now having fully you on his radar, not something to look around for when the occasion was given, Ruggie was going to have his fun with the new hot guy on campus.

———————————————————————

The next day he saw you brandish a shiny new uniform, with modifications to the regular clothing. Your little alterations to the articles made them ‘more you’ he thought.

You had the penta tailored to fit you to the perfection, complimenting your figure. The pant’s bottoms were beautifully embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, you also wore a black and white striped band around your left arm in a similar manner others would do with their dorms insignia, you made it into a bow to compensate it.

Honestly, it looked good, and ‘Hey, he wasn’t the type to complain at a look of the fashionable specimen you were.’ As he casually tried to pass of his staring of your body to his friends, his mind was only focus on one thought that concern your fitted pants. ‘He couldn’t wait to rip them of if you.’

He knew he wasn’t suppose to drool at the first hot guy he saw, especially one he had just first seen day prior and had never even talk to for that matter.

But ‘come on!’ What kind of reasonable beastman would not ongle as such a tasty treat like your self.

———————————————————————

The day after his ‘enlightenment’ as he put it to Leona. Ruggie had introducing himself to you, acting normal as ever, like he wasn’t just thinking foul things about you.

Quickly after being aquatinted, he made a point to be your sitting buddy in every class your shared. Getting closer after every class.

His behaviour started sweet, at least form your perspective, you were unaware of the true depravity behind the eyes of the man you had began to call your friend.

Contact with him was now so common, that he was comfortable being more ‘handsy’.

He would smack your your ass as passed you, saying that it just his way to say hello now that you were ‘close friends.’

He would grope your crotch and play it off as just him wanting to know ‘what his bro was packing, he’s not gay, so why are you being weird about it?’ This manipulative fucker

He would ‘fake bang you’ any time you happen to bend over in front of him. Saying that you looked like a chick from behind, so it was basically the same he told you and his friends. In all honestly it didn’t matter if your behind would be considered feminine or not, he was just spouting bullshit as excuses. But in reality he would’ve definitely fucked you this very right moment if you had given him the green light.

———————————————————————

He was really molding you into the boy perfect his little fantasy, the type of guy that would let him do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t just that by now, in his own twisted way he had fallen for the charms of your personality, not just your body. So from here on he ought to himself that you would be his boyfriend before the end of the school year!

———————————————————————

With the new found confidence from your compliance, Ruggie made it his next goal to persuade you into letting him touch you.

And not in the way he did previously, his ‘measly groping’ wasn’t anything like what he was going to do to you now….

It all started at the beginning of the second semester with this pervy hyena offering you a massage.

He would start with your neck & shoulders taking care of the knots in those areas, than your arms, and your hands.

He would then make you lie stomach down, working your upper to lower back. He had made you remove your pants so he could better work the muscles. Moving on to your ass, under the pretext that; ‘there’s muscle in there too’ so he needed to knead it!

After that he took care of the back of your legs, then flipped you onto your back with ease. Shocking you at the display of strength.

He soon continued his ‘massage’ with the front of your thighs. His hands going higher, and higher until he reach your boxers. He began to rub your member from from above the fabric, which caused you to speak out.

He soon stop the simple fiddle of your dick through the fabric of your boxers, to pull in the fabric down and jerked you off. He giggled every time your body would jerk, he changed the position, holding down your legs to prevent from escaping as he started fingering your hole. Oh, and you came hard. Harder than you ever by your own hands, maybe that’s why you were so compliant with his next actions…

The pervert had begin to jerk you off in class, making it a game of if you can keep quiet enough to not get caught. Too bad for you, even if you were completely silent most students knew what was taking place at the back of the classroom, after all Ruggie wasn’t the only beastman in your class. And those guys all had developed smell and hearing.

This went on to the point that you couldn’t touch yourself without thinking about him, and you certainly couldn’t cum without his help.

He had made you so dependent on him for pleasure, you were at his neck and call, even accepting to be his boyfriend the moment he asked you halfway through the second semester. It was to late for you, your previous friends couldn’t help you anymore, looks like Ruggie did do well on his promise.

Gn!Reader

The day after the ceremony, Crowley had given you some pretty loose clothing to your janitor work in. When Ruggie saw your face as you walk on Main Street, he couldn’t lie that he found you attractive looking. No matter what you would be wearing, you would be confused for some type of model for a big brand cosmetic/skincare company, not that he necessarily had any knowledge about them, he just had ‘that kind of feeling you know?’

He just continued to walk towards the school building, but as he momentarily grazed your side he felt as was overwhelming by the sweet and alluring aroma coming off of you. Was everyone sure you were indeed magicless, ‘cuz damn, you just had put a spell on that boy!’ He even wondered if you weren’t one of those sex demons that just passed themselves off as a stranded soul in this world, what were the called again, succubus? Incubus? Whatever, all he knew was would be falsifier if said that he didn’t want to pounce on you this very right instant.

Now having fully you on his radar, not something to look around for when the occasion was given, Ruggie was going to have his fun with the new sexy thing on campus.

———————————————————————

The next day he saw you brandish a shiny new uniform, with modifications to the regular clothing. Your little alterations to the articles made them ‘more you’ he thought.

You had the pant’s tailored to fit you to the perfection, complimenting your figure. The pant’s bottoms were beautifully embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, you also wore a black and white striped band around your left arm in a similar manner others would do with their dorms insignia, you made it into a bow to compensate it.

He knew he wasn’t suppose to drool at the first hot person he saw, especially one he had just first seen day prior and had never even talk to for that matter.

But ‘come on!’ What kind of reasonable beastman would not ongle as such a tasty treat like your self.

———————————————————————

The day after his ‘enlightenment’ as he put it to Leona. Ruggie had introducing himself to you, acting normal as ever, like he wasn’t just thinking foul things about you.

Quickly after being aquatinted, he made a point to be your sitting buddy in every class your shared. Getting closer after every class.

His behaviour started sweet, at least form your perspective, you were unaware of the true depravity behind the eyes of the man you had began to call your friend.

Contact with him was now so common, that he was comfortable being more ‘handsy’.

He would smack your your ass as passed you, saying that it just his way to say hello now that you were ‘close friends.’

He would grope your thoughts and play it off as just him wanting to you to pay attention. ‘It’s not his fault you look like you always have your head in the clouds.’ This perverted fuck.

———————————————————————

He was really molding you into the person perfect his little fantasy, the type of person that would let him do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wasn’t just that by now, in his own twisted way he had fallen for the charms of your personality, not just your body. So from here on he ought to himself that you would be his partner before the end of the school year!

———————————————————————

With the new found confidence from your compliance, Ruggie made it his next goal to persuade you into letting him touch you.

And not in the way he did previously, his ‘measly groping’ wasn’t anything like what he was going to do to you now….

It all started at the beginning of the second semester with this pervy hyena offering you a massage.

He would start with your neck & shoulders taking care of the knots in those areas, than your arms, and your hands.

After that he took care of the back of your legs, then flipped you onto your back with ease. Shocking you at the display of strength.

He soon continued his ‘massage’ with the front of your thighs. His hands going higher, and higher until he reach your underwear. He began to touch your bits from above the fabric, which caused you to speak out.

He soon stop the simple fiddle of your junk through the fabric of your undies, to pull the fabric out of the way and play with you. He giggled every time your body would jerk, holding down your legs to prevent from escaping as he started fingering your hole. Oh, and you came hard. Harder than you ever by your own hands, maybe that’s why you were so compliant with his next actions…

The pervert had begin to touch you in class, making it a game of if you can keep quiet enough to not get caught. Too bad for you, even if you were completely silent most students knew what was taking place at the back of the classroom, after all Ruggie wasn’t the only beastman in your class. And those guys all had developed smell and hearing.

This went on to the point that you couldn’t touch yourself without thinking about him, and you certainly couldn’t cum without his help.

He had made you so dependent on him for pleasure, you were at his neck and call, even accepting to be his partner the moment he asked you halfway through the second semester. It was to late for you, your previous friends couldn’t help you anymore, looks like Ruggie did do well on his promise.

Sleeping with Pervy!Top!Ruggie:

Despite having quickies in bathroom stalls, Ruggie couldn’t settle his sexual frustration. He needed to fuck you, needed to take his time with you.

That’s why you were here now, splayed out naked on the hyena’s bed, waiting for him to return like he had told you.

A bit of time had passed when came back into the room, snacks and refreshments in his hands. Which whom he put his mini fridge for later.

After that was taken off, he proceeded to rip his clothes off and pounce on you. Relishing in the noises that came from your surprise self. Because no matter how many times he pursued you, it’s always a bit scary when someone would be on you in the spend of a blink.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, lubing them up, than back down, stretching your hole. Ruggie only stop fiddling with it when you came, taking his fingers out, he spat on his hand before giving his dick a few pumps. He than inserted himself into you, starting with a rough pace right off the bat, he waited long enough to have you under him so he wasn’t going to be gentle.

As he thrusted hard and fast into you, he stated playing with your exposed bits making your moans louder. And just as you were about to cum, Ruggie pulled out, making you whined at your ruined climax. He only snickered at that, than proceeded to flip you over. You were now ass up, and face pushed into the pillow by one of his hand, as the other was holding his member, positioning it at your entrance.

He swiftly pushed himself back into your warmth, pounding even harder than before, your whines and begs being muffled by the pillow. His mouvements were hieratic, fucking you out of your mind.

You both soon got closer and closer to your peek, your legs were shaking as you finally came, meanwhile Ruggie was stable as ever when he pumped his load deep inside you.

Turning you over once more, you layed on your back and let out a sigh in relief as it was finally over, you were already spent.

But that relief quickly dissipated as you felt Ruggie’s hand bending your legs, folding you into a mating press. He couldn’t help but laugh at the confused look on you face.

“What? Don’t tell me you thought it was over already? Don’t be so dumb sweet cheeks. Shishishi!”

Thanks @demonichikikomori for requesting!

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are Open)

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small-sinclair · 1 year

Text

Little Lady

Rusty Nail x fem!reader

Haven’t wrote this guy before but I wanna try it :3. It’s based off this.

Contains: I’m going to have Rusty and the reader about the same age (Rusty: 26, reader: 23). In this au, he’s just starting to kill.

Tw: light stocking, mention of murder, blood

Tag: @sketchy-rosewitch, @fluffy-little-demon, @poir0t-houck, @waxxl0ver, @crumb @ninakuli, @whimsyvixen, @roadkillerx

Part 1

When he saw you, he knew he had to have you. He knew that you were meant for him, but he wasn’t a fool. You’re smart, a perfect college girl, while he’s just a low-end truck driver. You don’t want to be anywhere near a drifter, a man that leaves for a few days, leaving you all alone. You wore a cute dress with flowers on it while he wore greased clothes and bloody boots. But when he saw your smile and heard your laughter, something inside his heart skipped.

He drove his truck along the sidewalk and came close to you, but you didn’t seem to mind. You gave him a smile when he called out, “Hey, little lady! Could you direct me to a station?”

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing down the street from your college. “Keep heading down that way and you’ll be close to the interstate. There’s a Love’s there.”

He looked at the road then back at you. He took in the sweet scent of lemon and vanilla, and he felt like he was home. There was something so bright and beautiful about you… he just didn’t know what it was.

“Thank ya kindly, miss.” He rolled up his window and started his way down the road, but his eyes drifts to his side mirrors. He wants to remember you.

************

A week past before he drives by the college again, and he sees you walking back from class. He couldn’t believe you were there. It’s like you were waiting for him… but he wasn’t going to fool himself. He just couldn’t.

Still, Rusty pulls up close to the side and rolled down his window. He admired your soft lavender dress with birds on it. He doesn’t expect you to remember him, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Hey, little lady!” He calls out, making you jolt.

When you looked up, your eyes lit up and friendly smile formed. “Hey, again!”

“Hate to bother you but,” Rusty looks at the road as he drives slowly next to you, “but do you know a good coffee place?”

You smile and point down the road again. He sees your little charm bracelet shining in the sunlight. “Yeah! Just before you hit the interstate, pass the Love’s, there’s a coffee shop with a green roof.”

“Not Starbucks, right?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No. It’s called Luda’s Place!” you look back at him. “Great lemon bread!”

He nods and looks up at the road then back at you. “Okay… thank you, miss!”

“Have a good one!” You called, waving. You watched has his rid jolted with more speed, and you had a smile on your face. You hold your books closer to your chest and smiled. It was nice seeing him again.

************

The next week that followed, he saw you again, but a storm was coming from the north. He knew he had to haul fast to beat it, but he couldn’t help but pull up next to you once more. His eyes wondered over you light pink dress with roses sowed neatly. Your hair was put up in a braided bun, and your smile was just as bright as it was before when you saw his truck.

He slowed and pulled next to you. “Hey, little lady,” he says from his truck.

You look up then forward again. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

Rusty shrugs. “I do agree with you on that.” He puts out his cigarette in the ash tray. “Looks like rain.”

“Heard it’s a bad one,” you answer as you walked. “You’re not driving in that, are you?”

He shrugs as he looks in his mirror to see the dark clouds behind the truck. “Have to haul metal parts, darlin’.”

“But do you really?” You asked, lifting your brow. “I saw the radar, and it’s mostly red and purple.”

He scratched his chin in thought. “I guess you’re right.” He looks down. “You know a good place to sleep?”

“Yeah,” you pointed ahead. “Two streets up, turn left. Follow that road and it’ll take you to a motel.”

He tips his hat, but he thinks. “Do you need a lift?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No, I’m good, thank you!” You flash a smile. “Hope you drive safe!”

He rolls his window up before starting down the road again. This time, when you wave goodbye, he looks almost sad. Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone before a storm, but he didn’t want to push his luck farther in fear of freaking you out.

Besides, the whimper from the back of the van caught his attention. His eyes flicker in the mirror to see the man tied and gaged next to his whore of a wife. He smirks then hammers down. He couldn’t wait to play his game with them.

****************

It goes on like this for 2 months.

Every week, he passes by you, rolling his window down to call for you. You couldn’t help but smile at wave as he slows his semi down. Even if he has someone tied in the cab or a dead body to hide, he always made sure you never saw the blood on his hands or in the scruff of his chin. He learned that you were a fashion design major, so you wear the dresses you made. Not that he minds, of course. He also learned that your graduating soon, and it made him smile.

“Where you thinking’ of going?”

“Somewhere far from here,” you answered, looking up at him with a glimmer in your eyes. “I always wanted to travel.”

He hums as he drives slowly next to you. “I’ve been everywhere, and I’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as you.”

You blush as you hide your face behind your sketch book. “Bet you say that to every girl.”

He shakes his head as he blew cigarette smoke away. “Nah, just you, little rabbit.” His eyes glanced behind him at the woman, who was tied and gaged, in the cab. She had tears fall from her eyes as the blood dried from her lips. “I best be on my way then.”

You look up at him then at the road. “Be here next week?”

“As always,” he promises. “You just be safe.”

“You, too!”

As he drives off, he makes a plan for himself. He knows what he has to do to get you to come with him.

#rusty nail #rusty nail joyride #rusty nail x reader #joyride 2001 #joyride 2008 #joyride 2013 #slasher #slasher fic #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #rusty nail fanfic #joyride fanfiction

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batfamscreaming · 4 months

Text

Once again trapped in trying to figure out what Wayne Industries actually Does. "Everything!" yeah sure but they had to get there somehow. Amazon was an online bookstore at first there was a lot of very rapid growth between then and now.

Usually I hear that they started as a shipping business which makes sense when Gotham is 90% waterfront, but at some point they had to transition from just shipping other people's things to shipping things they made as well. I suppose if they started making their own transports for shipping (starting with their own steamboats and later trains and cars) that would make sense. Maybe in the industrial revolution they even bought their own steel mill upon getting tired of having fluctuating prices or a steel shortage and just deciding they were going to get their own damn steel and sell the extra instead. If they chose to manufacture higher quality steel instead of cheapest possible steel that's also laying the groundwork for them to be well liked by their customers. Not railroad barons but making the steel to lay the railroad and build the trains. It's the 1800s so they have a couple patented medicines by then as well that are.... not really medicine but no one has officially noticed yet. They ship their own chemicals out west for a good time.

In 1880s Alan Wayne makes the building that becomes Wayne Tower?? Which I think is much too early, but apparently we were building sky scrapers in 1888 so business must have been booming I fucking guess. This is also the man that has them go corporate.

Of course the railroads start to fall out with the growth of cars and car lobbying. They are still used along with boats for transport but with railroads not being built as much and not being maintained and the union wars, Wayne Industries has to make a pivot somewhere to stay in the race. The family can have a lot of personal money but the business itself is still going strong in Gotham even before Bruce takes over.

I guess if they're already in shipping, they're probably importing as well by then. They may have started with steamboats but then in WWI and WWII all steel factories started producing things for the war efforts, surely they made a couple big ships by then capable of crossing the Atlantic, if they weren't already in oceanic shipping by then. It lets them ride out the great depression because of government maritime subsidies that were a little out of control until the new deal kicked in. That would've also presumably kept WI employees working in the depression and cemented them harder in the city as smaller businesses closed around them.

The patented medicine starts shifting to actual generics that are a little less Heroic post 1918.

Maybe at around that point was when WI started manufacturing... sort of everything. You get your ships, and all the things on board that you need to run a ship. You get your ovens and stoves and big pots and your radar and hell your sailors can even buy their boots and uniforms from us.

When WWII ends they shift back to transporting other people's goods but also maybe more luxury vehicles as well. Cruise services. Some nicer kitchen installations. Kitchens on land even. Get a nice WI electric mixer. Get your waterfront boots. Get your generic ibuprofen.

At that point we're closer to Martha and Thomas' era and they're just... Along for the ride I guess. Thomas is a figurehead CEO. He's off doing medical school and mostly just shows up for formalities, while Martha works in the Wayne Foundation (either the only thing Thomas really made or opened in the 60s to try and get Gotham really booming) as a charity liason. They're still not really celebrities as much as a charismatic couple in high circles. WI doesn't need them to function. It's basically just funding them as they do their own things.

And then the murders happen

And then Bruce, over eighteen, shows up having inherited the figurehead CEO title and his entire family's controlling stock in WI, and announces they're going to be doing things his way now.

The CEO/Board of directors is supposed to do things in the best interest of their stock holders.

If Bruce is the controlling stock holder, they do what he says his best interest is.

#trying to sort of talk it out to myself #wayne enterprises #wayne industries #bruce wayne

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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 2 years

Text

Sweater Weather

Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: While caught out in a snowstorm while on a mission, you resort to desperate measures to keep warm.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Canon violence, slightly injured reader, smut, manhandling, soft sex, facefucking

AN: kinda rushed but i thought it was cute! have a good day lovely people

The mission was long. And hard. And all you wanted now was a nice, long nap.

Steve had brought up this particular mission while you two were hiding in Manila. You always preferred the warmer destinations, even when you worked for SHIELD.

It was a simple mission - too simple in hindsight - the grab-the-file-and-get-out type.

"It's Austria," you sighed, again with the cold. "I know, sweets, but it's an ex-Hydra base. We gotta check it out, make sure they don't have anything they shouldn't."

You nodded, "When do we leave?"

"Wheels up in an hour."

He was also on high alert. There was no exfil team. They weren't Avengers anymore. They were on their own out here - even Nat wouldn't be able to get here in time if they were attacked.

By the time you reached the house, you had fallen asleep in Steve's arms. He kicked the door open with his toe - the key being a biometric scan of his eye.

You woke up as he sat you down gently on the edge of the sofa.

"Welcome back to the land of the living sleeping beauty." He chuckled as you threw your boot at his head. He caught it easily.

You almost swooned. Sometimes, you thought Steve showed off just to get a reaction out of you. You didn't mind - it was hot.

"The power's still out!" Steve called from outside the bathroom. You could tell he was leaning on the door frame, ever the gentleman, even in sub-freezing temperatures.

"Yeah, no shit sherlock." You mumble under your breath as you open the door.

You shuffled closer to the fire, trying to steal every ounce of warmth to warm your frigid body.

He ran his fingers over your ribs, goosebumps following in his path. You winced slightly as he applied pressure. "Not broken." He whispered, hot breath ghosting over your ear. You shivered lightly.

"I'm sorry." His words surprise you.

"What?"

"I should have been there. To protect you."

You scoffed, "In case it slipped your memory, you were preoccupied. It's not your fault."

He nodded silently, rolling your shirt back down. He started to pack up the kit, but you grabbed his arm, dragging him back to sit where you had been sat moments before.

Steve's hands came around to rest on your thighs, pulling you closer into his body like he couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment.

You leaned to whisper into his hair, "It's not your fault, Steve." His hold on you only became tighter.

You stood like that for a while, your arms running up and down Steve's back while he convinced himself that you were fine.

You had a pretty good idea though.

Buried at the back of the cupboard was a single tin of Chicken Noodle Soup that was so out of date, the mold in it had probably bred a new organism. Baked beans it was then.

Your hands shook violently again as another shiver ripped through you. You tucked your hands under your armpits and raised your shoulders to cover your ears.

You noticed an extra pair of Steve's socks tucked into the front of his backpack. You quickly stole them, slipping them onto your feet. You were grateful that Steve was an over-packer.

You crouched back in front of the fire, pulling the jumper over your knees, balancing your bowl on your kneecaps.

You heard Steve before you saw him. He was carrying a pile of firewood in his arms and grumbling about how 'the stupid snow got in his boots and now his socks are wet'. You giggled.

"Glad you find my torment funny, sweets." He said, his eyes still trained on the wood in his eyes, "How would you feel if I got trench foot, and was benched for-" He stopped abruptly.

You looked up at him. His gaze was trained on your body, eyes darkening by the second.

"You shouldn't have done that, sweets."

Your face breaks into uncertainty. Maybe you had completely misread the situation. Maybe Steve only wanted to be friends.

The way he grabbed your face, though, told you differently.

He stooped low to cradle your face in his hands. He placed small kisses all over your face, pecking you like a bird would its food.

You moaned as his tongue explored each and every part of your mouth. You could feel him getting harder every second that passed and that only spurred you on.

"Steve," his name fell from your lips like a prayer, "please."

He picked you up and you let out a soft gasp.

"You like that, sweetheart?"

You nodded, words cast from your mind. He chuckled, lust colouring his tone as he shuffled you in his arms.

"Makes me feel safe." You whispered, nestling your head into his shoulder. "Like it when you carry me."

He smiled and laid you on the sofa gently. He pressed deep and sensual kisses on your lips, large and warm hands caressing your body.

You arched your back as he ran a knuckle over your nipple. You were hopelessly horny, begging for friction.

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"You. Only you." You whimpered.

"Where do you want me?"

"Everywhere. Please, Steve." You were begging. Steve's eyes lit up.

"Want me to love you, pretty baby?" Steve said, dragging his fingers up your sides.

"Steve, please!" You were close to tears.

He pulled your panties down, fingers slipping in between your wet folds.

"Fuck, darling, you're making a mess." You shuddered, moans spilling out from your lips. He pulls his trousers down, dick curling into his stomach.

"You ready, sweetheart?"

You nodded in response.

"Good." He slid into you gently, your walls stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, head tossed back in pleasure.

He was bigger than you had thought - you grabbed his bicep as he brushed your g-spot.

“S’big Stevie." You whimpered, "M’all full.”

"Yeah baby? You like that?" His hands came to rest on the bulge in your stomach.

"Love it, Stevie! Please don't stop!" He drilled into you, muttering sweet praises.

The coil in your stomach tightened with each thrust. “M’not gonna last.” you whimpered softly.

“S’okay baby." He praised, "Come for me, pretty girl."

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to."

"Oh, God, I'm gonna cum," Steve said, slightly relaxing his pace as he moved to pull out. You pushed your face further onto his cock.

You settle on the sofa in his lap, kissing lightly over and over again.

You turn your head to the fire. "Shit."

"What?" Steve looked at you in concern.

"The food. S'gone cold."

He burst into laughter, resting his forehead on your shoulder. He placed a small kiss on your shoulder. You could get used to this.

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