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cap-n-ce · 3 months ago

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IDIOTS IN LOVE

Steve Rogers x F! Reader

incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony

Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.

Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.

“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”

“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.

“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”

“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-

“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”

You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”

You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.

You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.

You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”

Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.

“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.

You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.

The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.

A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.

“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.

The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.

“I know! Old people are the cutest.”

“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”

You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.

“Y/N? Earth to--”

“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.

She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”

“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.

You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”

Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.

“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”

Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter, would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.

Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”

You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”

Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.

You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.

Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.

You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?

Then, it hits you. Natasha.

Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”

Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.

“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”

You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.

As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.

Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?

“Hey.”

The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”

You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass yourself in front of him again.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.

You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.

“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”

Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.

“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.

“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.

You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”

You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”

You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”

“Y/N-”

“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,

Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”

Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.

You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.

As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.

You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.

You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.

It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?

As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.

“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”

“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”

“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”

It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”

You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.

“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.

“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”

“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”

The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?

“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”

“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”

As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.

It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.

As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”

Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.

Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.

The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”

“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.

“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.

“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.

You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?

“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”

“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”

Steve was blabbering on about you?

“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.

You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.

You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.

"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.

Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."

You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.

"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.

You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."

"No come on!"

As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.

Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.

All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.

Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.

When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”

“In the gym ma’am.”

You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”

“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”

You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”

Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.

You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.

Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.

Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.

“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”

You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”

You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.

“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”

The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.

Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.

You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”

“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.

“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”

Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”

“Cause none of them were you.”

You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”

“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.

“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.

Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”

“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”

Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”

“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”

Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.

Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”

You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”

You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.

It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.

You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.

THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3

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cap-n-ce · 3 months ago

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𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞?

Summary: You find out Steve has been cheating with other girls on his guy's night out. But you also just found out you are pregnant...

Characters: Steve Rogers, Fem!Reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Cheater Steve, hurt, angst, mention of abortion, mention of infertility

Badly written and mistakes were def made but I hope u like it!

I looked over the picture again. Steve kissing some random blonde girl in the bar. The phone was clutched in the palm of my hand. It was not the right time to find this out.

I glanced at your other hand, a pregnancy test that read 'POSITIVE' in big letters. Tonight was going to be the night I told him. The test was from the day before, Steve was on assignment so it didn't feel right to throw the news at him right after a long mission.

No one else knew either, of course, they'd be happy but it felt wrong to share it with my friends before my boyfriend knew.

The elevator dinged, letting it be known someone was there. I quickly put the test away in my pocket and wiped the stray tears from my face.

"Y/n? you are up?" Natasha asked as she walked into the living room area. The rest of the boys were following behind her, all drunk or slightly drunk of course.

"I was waiting for Steve to come home," I give a half-hearted smile to her. She nods and sits next to meme.

Steve stumbles to the couch across from me and falls back onto it. "So how was boy's night out?" my phone is set face down on my thigh. Everyone looks a bit tense as they realize I saw the photo they sent.

"Good, had fun doing stuff," Steve sighs. I nod along and pick my phone up, turning it on and pressing the photo.

"I bet you had so much fun kissing that blonde huh?" I turn the phone towards him. His eyes widen at the sight of the photo. He immediately sits up.

"I can explain!" his voice was filled with panic. Like I had just uncovered something he'd been keeping from me forever. Tears starting to sting my eyes. I tried to keep them back but the hormones mixed with finding all this out got the better of me.

"Explain what? That you cheated on me? That all the trust I put into you was a lie? That this relationship meant nothing to you?" I ask him, the tears falling down my face. I wipe them away but they just continue.

Steve shakes his head and gets up. I stand up and try to walk away but he puts his hands on my shoulders and stops me from walking any further. "Please baby, please let me explain," he begs. It almost makes me rethink it all, just for a split second.

"Explain then."

"I was drunk, I had no idea what I was doing." He takes his hands off my shoulders and rubs his head.

"Drunk? that's your excuse? Steve that photo was taken right after you guys arrived at the bar. You probably only had two drinks in you," I yell. Everyone around us is shocked. I'm never one to yell, even when provoked.

I was angry, sad, hurt. I was feeling everything and I couldn't keep it in anymore. "Listen, I'll never do it again. Honey, please." Steve looks into my teary eyes and my heart finally breaks.

He's not the Steve I loved. He's not the one I trusted and shared my secrets with. "You know, I really loved you. It may have been just another relationship to you, but I wanted to marry you." I wipe my tears again and this time they don't return.

"We can still do that baby! You and me," He says, holding my hands in his.

"Tell me one thing, if you tell the truth I'll forgive you." He nods and looks at me expectantly. "Did you love me? Like actual love," I ask. He hesitates before speaking up.

"Yes. Of course, I loved you." I can tell he's lying. I always knew when he was lying and this hurt me even worse. I knew what the answer was but hearing it from him just hurt me in ways I could never explain in any words.

I pull away from him and reach into my pocket. I pull the pregnancy test out and hold it up.

"I was going to tell you tonight, I found out yesterday." Steve beams when it registers that I'm holding a pregnancy test.

"We are going to have a baby?" He asks excitedly.

"No, you have nothing. The moment you decided to cheat on me you lost the right to me and this baby," I start. "I struggled with fertility, I told you this. I confided in you about how I was ready to start a family because I trusted and loved you completely. When the doctor told me I might never be able to have a baby I confided in you. I cried on your shoulder and you promised we would get through it. I was so stupid to actually believe I'd finally get what I wanted."

Steve's smile drops and he looks confused. "What do you mean? Are you going to have an abortion?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet. All I do know is that I want nothing to do with you ever. We are done, consider me dead from now on." I throw the pregnancy test at him and walk to our shared room.

I hear footsteps following behind me. "Y/n?" A voice says. I turn to see Natasha looking at me with a concerned face. I finally let the tears go that I was holding in. She rushes to me and holds me close to her chest as we sit on the bed.

"I loved him, Nat, I loved him," I sob out. Natasha pets my hair and rocks us back and forth.

"I know hun, I know."

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cap-n-ce · 5 months ago

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Hurt - Steve Rogers x YN 🪶🥰 (a little bit of 😫 at the start)

Summary: An injury leaves you in indescribable agony. The leader of the team Steve Rogers is there to help, but not for the reasons you think.

Contains: Protective comforting Steve. Steve being a gentleman. Mutual pining with payoff. Slow burn-ish. A long comfort one-shot to sink into. It’s giving WattPad, don’t judge me.

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of physical pain and a panic attack at the start. Otherwise, pure tooth-rotting fluff throughout. Some PG-level smut references towards the end.

Words: 4,800

“C’mon you can do this.” You raised up onto your tip toes and placed the oat milk in the microwave, successfully closing the door and setting the time to 30 seconds.

You breathed out, wincing, gripping the kitchen counter and watching the timer.

This morning had taken it out of you. It had taken a Herculean effort to get ready. Actions you took for granted were almost impossible.

Tying your hair up.

Leaning over the sink to brush your teeth.

Washing your hair in the shower.

Fuck, even getting into the shower.

Stepping into your jeans.

Putting on your shoes.

It was all pure, indescribable agony.

The type of pain so overwhelming, you can’t think of anything else, and even if your brain would allow it, you certainly couldn’t articulate what it felt like to be in agony any time you moved, turned, or breathed.

Your back injury had flared up before. But never like this. Never this level of pain. It was off the scale.

Seeing your limited range of movement in training yesterday, Cap had benched you. He noticed you forcing your moves through gritted teeth. You were determined. But if you didn’t rest, you would hurt yourself.

Skipping this morning’s training was no treat. You needed the extra time to do basic shit and be ready for the daily 8am briefing led by the aforementioned notorious stickler for time-keeping, Steve Rogers. A man who was insufferably hard-nosed, impossibly handsome, and absolutely unavailable. It didn’t stop you wanting to impress him.

Ninety minutes after waking, you were finally ready. You had half an hour before Rogers’ daily briefing. But your pain-riddled ordeal had exhausted you. You thought, perhaps, a coffee might help.

The microwave beeped and, maintaining a completely rigid posture to stave away the sharp stabbing pains in your back, you raised onto your toes and opened the microwave door.

White hot pain shot through your back and took your breath away. As you gasped, your muscles fought back. The more you tried to get your breath, the greater the pain, until you feared you couldn’t breathe, the cycle continuing until the agony and terror became so overwhelming you began to hyperventilate.

Thick hot tears globbed down your face as you sank onto your haunches, unable to reach the countertop and instead resting your fingertips on the floor for stability.

“Agent! Agent!” Rapid, heavy footsteps slapped against the kitchen flooring. Your head swam in the depths of your pain but you would recognise that voice anywhere.

Steve fucking Rogers.

Anyone but him, god.

Talk about mortifying.

“Sam I need backup in the kitchen.” He spoke into his wrist, already wearing his comms device despite the sun barely being up.

“No, no backup!” You called out from your position crouched on the floor.

He frowned, changing his strategy when he assessed your position and the possible reasons for your distress. “Hey… hey, look at me.”

If it wasn’t for the overwhelming agony shooting through every cell of your body, you would have clocked his unnaturally soft tone. You gulped in air thick and fast, unable to even move your head for the pain

“I can’t Cap, I can’t turn….” Cheeks burned with the humiliation of him seeing you like this, not to mention your fear of being unable to carry out an order. The last thing you needed is him seeing you as professionally weak and personally pathetic.

You felt a hand on your mid back and a tone of voice you never thought possible from the authoritarian. “I think you’re having a panic attack. It’s okay. Breathe for me.”

“I can’t, it hurts, it hurts so much.”

“I know. Breathe into your belly,” his commanding tone returned. “Breathe down, not out.” You followed his instructions. His hand remained on your back. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re doin’ great.”

He talked you down from your terror, your breathing easing and settling back into a normal rhythm. When you could speak calmly, you explained why you couldn’t stand. Talking you through his actions, he placed both hands on your waist and pulled you up to your feet. “I have a theory,” he explained. He asked you to face him and, tentatively, he closed the space between you, your sightline filled by the solid torso in front of you, dangerously strong and yet cloaked in an unassuming white tshirt. Gently, he ran his thumb between the ribs on your back, glancing off to the side in concentration, oblivious to your position almost pressed against his chest.

He smelled amazing.

You daren’t inhale deeply, lest you set off your back.

Did he always smell this good?

“Yeah. It’s what I thought. T5 through T8. You’ve damaged something. Soft tissue. Joints, possibly.”

Too weak from exhaustion, you didn’t question him. Thankfully, you didn’t need to.

“I’m getting you to physio right away, I’ll call Dr….”

Sam’s static voice sounded through Steve’s comms. “On my way.”

“No,” he spoke into his wrist, looking directly into your eyes, his brow furrowed. “It’s okay Sam. You can stand down.”

“It’s not a code red?” Sam asked.

“No. No...” He dropped his volume and looked away from you. “I can handle it.”

“Roger that.”

You were grateful for the half-minute of respite as he spoke to Sam, your belly fluttering with the memory of being pressed to Rogers’ chest. The memory made you light-headed.

He rested his hand on your lower your back. “Does it hurt if you sit?”

“Hmm? Oh… no, that’s the only thing that doesn’t hurt.”

He slipped his arm around your waist and helped you to a seat. Once you were comfortable, he fished a heat pack out of the first aid drawer and microwaved it. Arms folded, making him look stern if it wasn’t for the furrow etched into his brow and a light film of concern over his blue eyes, he stood at the foot of the table. “It got worse. Since training.”

“Yeah. Overnight, I think. I just woke up and…. I couldn’t move.”

“Did you go to physio yesterday like I asked?”

You shook your head. He sighed.

“Please don’t say it, Cap.”

Wordlessly, he fetched the heat pack from the microwave and wrapped it in a tea towel. A firm hand rested on your shoulder and inched your back away from the chair, slipping the pack against your back and repositioning you. A strip of anti-inflammatory pain killers plopped down on the table in front of you with a glass of water. He popped two out of the blister pack, the little red pills glistening in the overhead lighting before they slipped down your throat.

“I’m sorry for letting the team down, and I’ve let you down too - ”

You stopped when you felt his hand over your bare forearm. You looked up.

“You didn’t let me down.” His lips curled up at the corner. You had never seen his face look so soft. The truth is, it killed him to see you like this. But he couldn’t voice it. Now wasn’t the time. You needed him. And not in the way he wished you needed him.

“Thanks Cap. I guess I’m just…. embarrassed.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“You seeing me like that. Having a… wobble.”

“You’d be surprised who struggles with anxiety and panic. It’s very common.”

“Like the veterans?”

He frowned. “How do you know about the vets?”

“Natasha.”

“Oh…” He raised a knowing eyebrow. He knew you two were close. Which was why he didn’t confess his slightly unprofessional crush to his Russian friend. She would whisper it in your ear. Girl’s talk. Harmless enough. But he couldn’t risk it. Professionally. Or personally.

“It’s embarrassing. You’re pretty much my boss.”

“Huh. Is that right.”

“Cap, you’re everyone’s boss.”

“Maybe.” He quirked his brow and lips at the same time, causing him to look unfairly cute. He glanced in the direction of the countertop, remembering the warm milk he took out of the microwave. “You had breakfast yet?”

“No not yet.”

He lowered his gaze and took on the expression of a disappointed father. “You shouldn’t be drinking coffee on an empty stomach.” With a balled fist on the countertop, he rose. When he walked behind you, you rolled your eyes. He was showing his age. “It’s bad for your adrenals. And your nervous system.”

“I bet you don’t have this kinda trouble with Thor.” You heard the opening of drawers behind you and the scrape of getting out a plate.

He scoffed a laugh. “No, but… I’d avoid the bathroom after he’s had coffee, so.” He lowered his voice on the last part. You still heard him and you laughed at the tower’s worst-kept secret.

“Ow! Hurts to laugh.” Secretly, you were grateful to see him softening a little. It put you at ease.

“Sorry, sorry……” Seconds later, you heard the opening of the bread bin and the slide of the toaster button.

“What are you doing? I, erm… I can’t turn.”

“Just fixing you something to eat. Toast, right? With the English jam.” You had it every morning. He’d noticed.

“Yeah, I know it’s not the healthiest. But it reminds me of home.”

He smiled softly. Home. He knew what it felt like to miss a place. The difference is, you could go back. Hop on a plane any time you wanted. He didn’t have that luxury. A plate of toast appeared in front of you. He sat opposite, munching on a banana. You wouldn’t mind munching on his banana for breakfast, you thought to yourself with a wry smile. It was a fantasy, of course. Especially given you couldn’t fucking bend right now without collapsing in agony. A blow job was absolutely out of the question.

You didn’t talk much. You busied yourself eating. He simply looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. He was unfairly handsome. This, of course, wasn’t a revelation. But it wasn’t every day you sat face to face with him, up close. Your vantage point was usually at a distance, watching him give instruction in training or lead the morning meeting. And when he was up close, he was showing you a drill or a combo. You never had the luxury of sitting here, staring at him. It was like admiring art. In a simple white t-shirt and black jeans, hair swept back, he was gorgeous. Beautiful inside and out. In your less lucid moments you imagined what it would be like to be loved by a man like him. Adored. Cherished. Chosen. It wasn’t even a remote possibility. You weren’t entirely sure his heart was capable of it. But it was fun to dream. You thought back to him holding you to his chest a mere ten minutes earlier, checking your injury. Your cheeks flushed at the memory.

He wasn’t sure he had ever stared at you for this long. His eyes wandered to you in training, of course. He gave you extra time, attention, all under the guise of finessing your skills. He tried to be professional about it. He hoped he was. He never touched you unnecessarily. Never wanted you to feel uncomfortable. He was aware of his position, his rank, and he would never take advantage of that. Not with anyone. And especially not with you. He smiled when you weren’t looking, when your attention was on the toast, tucking your hair out of the way of your food. He watched as your hair glistened. He always noticed how glossy it was. Like something out of a magazine. It was stupid, really. But he always imagined how soft it might be. What it would feel like running his fingers through it. Stroking it when you hugged him. He wanted to hug you right now, tell you it was going to be okay, that he’d make sure the pain went away soon. You sat up straight and winced, sucking in air through your teeth, crinkles forming around your eyes. He felt his heart break.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmm. Just… hurts.”

He fished his phone out of his pocket and called the physio, insisting on an immediate appointment. You only heard his side of the conversation.

“I have an Agent who is in a lot of pain.”

“Yes I know it’s early.”

“No. It can’t wait.”

“Tomorrow won’t work. I’m sorry.”

“Tell him…” he sighed, rubbing his temples with a large hand. “Tell him it’s Steve Rogers.” He grimaced. He felt like an asshole. But if it got you the help you needed, it was worth his embarrassment. He went quiet, waiting for an answer. He looked up at you, speaking into the phone. “We can make 8:30. Thank you.”

After ending the call, he spoke into his comms device. “Sam. It’s Steve. I’m gonna need you to lead the 8am meeting.”

Sam’s voice came through in a crackle, but you could hear his smile. “You got it, Cap Cake.”

Steve blushed, noticing your raised eyebrows at the nickname. “Sam obviously thought I was alone.”

You smirked, pausing before unleashing an audacious statement. “That’s how you guys talk to each other when you’re alone… okay then…”

“That is not how it sounds.”

“Well, I wouldn’t blame you, Sam’s… pretty sexy…”

He frowned. “You think Sam’s sexy?”

Hearing him say the word made you shiver with excitement. In your wildest interpretation of this banter, you imagined Steve was flirting with you. “Well if that’s how you speak to your team mates…”

He shook his head, still smiling. “It isn’t.”

“Well that’s a shame.”

He looked up, meeting your eyes. You said nothing. He held that damn unreadable expression again. But his eyes… his eyes held something. A challenge, maybe. He stood up. “Cup of coffee?”

You heard him rustling about behind you, the scent of a freshly opened bag of ground medium roast wafting towards your nostrils.

“Just to be clear, do you mean now, or later?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The coffee. For a second there, I thought you were asking me out for a coffee.” You worried your lip between your lip, knowingly pushing your boundaries with the team’s leader. Teasing him, you realised, was fun. He blushed too easily. You could see why Sam enjoyed it so much. You wondered if you had truly overstepped when he remained silent.

You heard the tap running. The pouring of a jug of water into the machine. The clicks of a few buttons and the whirring indicating the coffee machine was working its magic. Finally, he answered. “Well… that would be unprofessional.”

You paused. “Would it?”

“Well,” he leaned against the countertop behind your back. You still couldn’t turn and he was thankful he didn’t have to look you in the eye while having this conversation. “There are no bylaws against it. But…my… position, you know, it’s… it wouldn’t be proper.”

“So you’re sayin’ there’s a chance…!” You chuckled to yourself. “Oh! It’s from a movie called Dumb & - ”

“I know. I saw it. You got Sam to thank for that. He once said to me…” He paused. Was he really about to say this to you? Apparently so. He did his best Sam impression. “Look at the butt on that! Yeah, he must work out.”

You laughed again and winced in pain.

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Yeah, God… stop being so hilarious.”

His cheeks flushed for the umpteenth time. You thought he was funny. Nobody thought he was funny. “We’ll have coffee… here, to be clear… then I’ll help you down to physio.”

“I can – ”

“You can’t manage on your own. Not like this I’m coming with you.” He placed a cup of coffee down in front of you to punctuate his point.

“Yes Captain…” You picked up your brew and blew on it as your eyes met his in challenge. “Cap Cake.”

“That’s not goin’ away anytime soon…” He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

True to his word, he helped you down to physio. He came into the room with you, asking questions and explaining the context of your injury when the pain robbed your vocabulary from you. He turned around when you had to remove your shirt, slipping out of the room momentarily when you lay face-down on the massage table, knocking on the door ten minutes later with one simple phrase.

“Are you decent?”

The physio prescribed rest, heat, and some basic exercises to prevent your muscles freezing up. Five days of that, and you could come back for the next stage of your healing. This stage was about pain management. It meant you were benched. On the Friday of Memorial Day weekend.

Steve was no longer leading the teambuilding expedition this weekend, he told you. Sam had offered to do it. You suspected the request had come directly from Steve, you thought as you built yourself a fort on the sofa.

He came up to visit you every hour during the day. There wasn’t much to check on, really. All you could do was sit. Even lying down hurt. Looking down to read a book set your back off. So it was a movie day.

He microwaved your heat pack, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he asked how you were feeling. He asked you for a number each time he checked in, using the same pain grade as the physio, looking visibly disappointed when it was only down to a nine out of ten. He wasn’t much of a cook, he told you. But he could heat things up. It was important for you to maintain your nutrition intake, he said. It was stupid to have the microwave up so high, anyways, he muttered aloud as he moved it down to the countertop.

“Do you always give your Agents this much TLC when they’re injured?”

He dodged the question with the finesse of an actor in a press junket. “It’s important that you feel better soon. It’s important to the team.”

That night, you needed some comic relief and elected to watch your childhood classic Dumb & Dumber, inviting Steve to join you under the guise of needing him nearby in case your injury flared up. You remained on the chaise part of the sofa, legs outstretched. He sat on a good six feet from you to ensure you had plenty of room to stretch out. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t trust himself to sit closer.

“Has Bucky seen this?” you asked of the goofball movie. “I think he’d like it.”

“No. But he could star in it.”

You laughed again, groaning. “Who knew you were such a comedian. Your timing isn’t stellar, Steve.”

He smiled. He loved it when you used his first name.

By Saturday morning, the pain had reduced to a seven. By the afternoon, you were able to twist without any shooting pains. You could reach for a mug in the kitchen cupboard and lift a bowl of soup into the microwave. By Sunday, you could step into your leggings without having to mimic a performer from the Cirque du Soleil. You were also grateful you could once again wipe your arse without the same contortion ritual. You elected to keep that piece of information from your new friend.

On Monday, the pain was down to a five. You were walking around in the kitchen, easily cooking a full English breakfast and making coffee while holding a conversation, no longer needing to use all your concentration on basic movements. Steve hung back, leaning on the doorframe as he talked to you. You clearly didn’t need him anymore. He tried to ignore the pang in the center of his chest at the realization.

Still, your recovery was worthy of celebration. He left the tower wearing a cap and sunglasses and returned with a white box. He opened it up, four vanilla cupcakes staring back at him. He popped open the two types of sprinkles he’d bought and liberally added them on top.

You were in your usual place on the sofa when a plate appeared under your nose.

“They’re having ‘em at the team building. I wanted to make sure you’re included,” he lied.

You squealed. “Ah! I love cake!”

“Who doesn’t. I thought you’d earned it given how hard you’ve worked on your recovery.”

You looked at the white icing with red, white and blue sprinkles plus silver stars. “Steve! This isn’t a cup cake. This is a… a Cap Cake!”

He chuckled. You got it.

“Hang on did you go out in public and order a Captain America cupcake?”

He shrugged. “I was in disguise, so…”

You bit your lip. “Steve, I… I have to tell you something. This is so sweet, it really is. But I’m actually allergic to – err…”

“To dairy products, I know. This is vegan. The lady said this means no butter, cream or milk. So you can have it.”

“How did you know?”

“People are always asking you about the oat milk in your coffee. You tell them why.”

He’d overheard. And he’d taken note.

“Tell you what. Let’s sit up at the table.” You slithered off the couch in a move you hoped was graceful and not reminiscent of a seal slithering off a floating blob of ice into Arctic waters. You spun around on your heels, still cautious about twisting. “Oh and you’re having one, too.”

It had only been three days, but it didn’t feel the same sitting face to face with him. It was more comfortable, somehow. The mask of stoicism had left, replaced by something softer. Something real.

The drawbridge was down.

“You always eat a cupcake with a knife, then?” You cocked your head, watching him slice it down into chunks. What an oddball.

“W-well, it… it wouldn’t be proper in front of a lady.”

“What, to eat it like this?” You took a huge bite out of the side and licked your lips. “Also have you always blushed this much and I just haven’t noticed?”

He shrugged, a sigh leaving his lips that was heavier than necessary. “I just… didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, I guess.”

A red heat creeped up your neck and made its home on your cheeks. He didn’t want to lick off frosting in front of you. Sink his teeth into the soft, succulent sponge. Lick his lips as the sweet icing leaked all over his mouth.

Good fucking God.

He wasn’t thinking this, was he? Were you just being a whore? Probably.

“So… you don’t like eating in front of people?”

He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“You… don’t like eating cake? Because it’s messy?”

Long lashes parted, big blue eyes flicking up at you. “Not quite.”

“And you, erm… you obviously don’t know what cake is, right. What it means in modern terms.”

He cleared his throat. “Sam told me.”

Oh.

Shit.

You licked your lips. And it had nothing to do with the frosting. He scratched the back of his neck. You reached over and dipped a finger into the frosting on top of one of his slices. You licked your finger while looking directly into his eyes. His lips parted.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Steve?”

“That’s not exactly the word I would use.” He looked away, finding salvation in the discarded heat pack on top of the table. He pointed to it, diverting your attention while he stood up, pulling on his jeans which felt awfully tight all of a sudden. He grabbed the pack and muttered something about popping it back in the microwave, leaning against the kitchen countertop just behind your back.

“You know I can turn now, right?”

“Y-yeah, just, umm… give me a minute.”

Your cheeks burned at his implication.

“Well. I guess you don’t need me now.”

Hands in his pockets, he looked at the kitchen floor sheepishly. It was Tuesday morning. You had returned from physio, who prescribed exercises and gave you an eight- to twelve-week timeline for healing. You groaned, but she reassured you the healing journey would be punctuated with milestones where you would reintroduce specific types of exercise, one type at a time.

You were very much capable of taking it from here.

The news was bittersweet for your blue-eyed guardian angel.

You don’t need me anymore.

The team did. He took solace in being needed. They were scheduled back this morning. You were surprised the tower wasn’t already singing with their arrival yet.

You stood in front of him, the same fresh expensive scent of his cologne invading your senses. “Thank you, Steve. For everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t have been okay without you.”

Giving it little thought, you pulled him into a hug. He sighed into you, a tentative hand on your back, resting his chin lightly in the crook of your neck. He indulged himself, feeling a little guilty, but inhaling your scent. He wasn’t sure if it was perfume, shower gel, shampoo or what – but you smelt lovely. You pulled away, looking up at him. His heart was racing. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. He smiled softly, looking at the floor, the backs of his knuckles grazing the area your lips had touched.

“Have I crossed a line, Steve…?”

“Well. Perhaps. Yeah.” He shook his head, his hands finding their way into the comfort of his pockets. “But… for the record. I’m glad you did it.” Those baby blues caught your gaze. It didn’t take any more than that.

Your hand rested on the side of his face as you leaned up and kissed his lips, finding them soft and welcoming. He kissed you back tenderly, cautious but keen, a respectful hand resting lightly on your waist. Yours wandered, trailing down the side of his neck, shoulders and arms. He reached up and rested his hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair ever so lightly and finding it every bit as soft as he’d always imagined. He broke away, slowly.

“That was, erm…”

“Overdue?” you prompted.

“Yeah.”

“Oh hey Sam.”

Steve froze. He hoped you were teasing. He looked over his shoulder to find the Falcon behind him. His friend nodded in support, walking towards you both.

“You guys finally got it together. And you got CAKE??” He pulled a playful expression as he saw the box of leftover cupcakes from yesterday, sprinkles still scattered on the countertop and their decanters nearby, labels still on. “Steve Rogers, you romantic son of a bitch.”

“They’re Cap Cakes,” you added.

“Yeah, I KNOW, I get it. Don’t you go stealin’ my Cap now, English Muffin.”

You laughed at Sam’s nickname for you. Steve frowned. “You flirtin’ with my girl, Sam?”

“Oh she’s your girl now, huh?” He munched on the cake, crumbs dropping to the floor.

“Tell you what,” you interjected. “Steve, why don’t you make us some coffee. And we’ll go and sit on the balcony on the top floor.”

He cocked his head. “Going out for coffee. Like a… a date?”

Sam rolled his eyes as he pulled down the casing around the cupcake and muttered, “C’mon, man…”

“Yeah,” you frowned at Sam playfully then looked back at Steve. “Like a date.”

“Okay,” he nodded like a dork. A six-foot-tall, gorgeous dork. “Okay, I can do that.”

Five minutes later, you poured coffee into your travel mugs as Sam sat on the countertop and made short work of the last baked item.

You left together, saying goodbye to Sam.

“I’m gonna stay here. Unless you guys are gonna come back and make out on the couch.”

Making out with Steve. The thought made you tremble with anticipation.

He placed his hand on your lower back and guided you out, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Alone in the kitchen, Sam jumped down off the countertop and poured himself a coffee. A spicy, rich perfume invaded his senses, her hands either side of him.

“Hey baby.”

He turned around. “Widow. Good mornin’.” He glanced to his side and sucked the remaining icing from his thumb. “You know what, I just had two cupcakes, but I could eat some more, if you know what I mean.”

She rolled her eyes, “Sam that’s not as – ”

She would never finish her sentence, squealing as Sam hoisted her up onto the countertop and parted her legs, unzipping her jeans.

They didn’t know they had an audience. You had seen Nat exiting the elevator and decided to follow her to confirm your suspicions.

“I knew they were together,” you whispered around the corner. “Didn’t I tell you she seemed perkier than normal?”

“Well, they’re happy.”

“And there’s no bylaws against it, eh?”

“No,” he grinned, guiding you back to the elevator as thoughts of kissing you again made him feel unsteady.

“No bylaws.” Taggos: @lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @simplyholl @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @divine-knight-hand @flesh--amnesiacunrated @skymoonandstardust @alexakeyloveloki @cabingrlandrandomcrap @cakesandtom @mrs-illyrian-baby @muddyorbsblr @irishhappiness @glitchquake @dangertoozmanykids101 @animnerd @wavyhairedvixen @emarich7 @km-ffluv @thegodofnotknowing @acidcasualties @foxherder @salempoe @loz-3 @late-to-the-party-81 @mochie85 @loopsisloops @somewereinthegalaxi @lokiandbuckysdoll @goddessgirl43 @salvatoreitmeanssaviour

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cap-n-ce · 5 months ago

Photo

“I was tucking my boy in last night when he fell asleep and I put a Captain America blanket on him,” Downey Jr. told Evans.

“Did you?” Evans asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, so that’s the last time I saw your face,” Downey Jr. said. “Keeping my kid safe.”

Altogether: “Aww.”

(People, April 28, 2016)

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cap-n-ce · 5 months ago

Text

Should Have Known Better

A pool day with the Avengers causes Steve to figure out your secret. Hurt/comfort. Steve Rogers x f!reader. Steve being so sweet and protective and perfect. Set sometime when all the Avengers (including Bucky) are happy and living in the tower together. Reader is also an Avenger. Oneshot. 3.6k.

Tw: Reader is being abused by an unspecified male someone close to her. Dissociation. Bruises. Anxiety. Please take care of yourself if this content may trigger you.

A/N: This is my first fic and has been in my notes a LONG time. Wrote it for myself when I was going through something tough and figured there might be others who could use a lil fictional man comfort.

18+ only. Minors DNI. I do not consent to my work being translated, reposted, put on other platforms, or stolen.

GIF by @buckyscombatboots

You should have known better.

Some snide remark you make with a mischievous look at Tony about being a little rusty after his bad dive into the water would come back to bite you in the ass. He's the king of snide remarks, and no insults, no matter how playful, go unpunished. Most of the time, you took his teasing as a sign that he liked you. Today, the consequences of his taunting were much more than you bargained for.

August in Manhattan was scorching, so the team was lounging at the Tower's rooftop pool for a rare day of relaxation. You used to love swimming, but you chose to stay dry in your coverup for a reason–a good reason.

However, Tony could never have known this. A few drinks later and, "You know what makes iron rust faster, Y/N, water!" The next thing you knew you were pushed from the edge of the pool straight into the water.

Gasps of disbelief and giggles filled the air from the team, alongside a lightly chastising, "Tony!" from Steve. When you got your head back to the surface, you shrieked at him with indignation, a smiling tugging on your lips as you pulled yourself back onto the edge. Thankfully, it had all happened too fast and the water made too much of a splash for them to have seen your skin when you went under.

"You'll pay for that when you're least expecting it, Stark," you warned, stamping your soaked feet inside.

"Y/N, where are you going?" asked Natasha., smiling You paused in the doorway.

"To dry off..." you say with a laugh, said as if it was obvious.

"Why don't you just take your coverup off and dry off in your bathing suit out here?" Bucky offered.

"Uhh...I don't want to get sunburned," you explained lamely.

"Sugar, there's an umbrella five feet away from you," said Sam.

"C'mon, no one's gonna judge you if your six pack isn't a defined as Thor's." Tony joked. Thor wiggled his eyebrows at Bruce, who shook his head in exasperation.

"Guys, just let her go," Steve defended.

Your response rushes out of your mouth and you shift your weight from foot to foot, "I'd really rather just dry this off inside quickly. I'll be right back." You turn and continue into the room, and turn to close the door after you, only to be stopped by Steve.

"Right behind you!" he called out, "I just have to grab something quickly," he smiled.

You held the door open for him and gazed up at his sweet expression, hoping he couldn't see how your eyes sparkle for him. "You didn't have run, Steve. I would've waited for you."

"Well," he tilts his head shyly, "I know, but I didn't want to hold you up," he says. "I know you didn't want to get wet today and I'm sure you're uncomfortable." Ugh, why did he always have to be so conscientious?

"Plus," he whispers, leaning close to your ear, "you're dripping all over Tony's expensive hardwood." He meets your eyes with a teasing gaze and nudges your elbow before heading down the hall.

You walk as quickly as you can to the closest bathroom, trying your best not to drip all over the place. Since you're wearing a bathing suit under your coverup, you don't bother to close the door as you strip off the garment and start drying it with a hair dryer.

You should have known better.

The loud whir of the dryer prevents you from hearing Steve's footsteps as he returns. "Y/N?" he calls. You don't notice him approaching until he right on the other side of the doorway. "You can wear this if you wan–what the fuck?"

Shit! You slam the bathroom door shut but it's too late. You know he's already seen the purple and yellow bruises covering most of your ribcage and abdomen.

In typical protective Cap fashion, the door instantly yanks back open as he storms in. Does Steve respect his teammates privacy more than any of the other Avengers? Yes. But his concern for their safety always takes precedence over privacy.

His eyes are wide, his brows are furrowed, and his mouth is hanging open. His whole body is tensed and you can see that Cap quickly replaced easygoing Steve the moment he caught sight of you.

"What the fuck happened to you, Y/N? Why are you covered in bruises like you've been beaten to shit?!" You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your face away from him. He's sounds mad. In a different situation, you'd have the wherewithal to know that he's just scared for you.

After recognizing your fear, he takes a deep breath to calm himself and softens his voice. His eyes are trained on you, desperately searching for a hint as to what's going on. Stepping closer to you and placing his hand gently on your arm, he asks again, "Y/N, what happened to cause all of these bruises?" His anger has dissipated from his words, but the question hold just as much authority as anytime Cap speaks.

"Steve, please" you whimper, trying to back away from the intensity of his gaze. "Please don't worry about it, it's nothing," you beg. You're staring at the marble counter, the tiled wall, even the damn wet coverup that started all of this as you attempt to avoid his gaze.

It's completely futile, as always when Steve is concerned about you and won't relent. "Y/N," he holds your jaw lightly, forcing you to face him, "I need you to tell me how you got those bruises."

The statement is final. You know he knows that they're not from a mission (he reads every report to make sure no one has gotten injured) and that he's not going to believe they're from some clumsy accident (he's had too many bruises himself and can tell what kind of marks a targeted attack leaves).

You can't tell him the truth. You close your eyes again to avoid his gaze, "It's fine Steve, they're almost healed," you say to try to deflect the question. He still doesn't let up.

"Y/N, did someone do this to you?" he asks, already half-sure of the answer. Your silence confirms his suspicions. He lowers his voice as soft as it can go, knowing what the next question will do to you. "Did someone close to you do this to you?" he asks.

Your eyes pop open involuntarily. You feel trapped and screwed because he knows–how did he know?

The instant he sees terror in your gaze, his heart breaks for you. How could he not have known? You're frozen in shock, reactionless. He moves his hand to the back of your head, caressing your hair and bringing your face into his chest. His other arm wraps around your back, soothingly rubbing circles on it as he hugs you into him. "Oh, Y/N..." is all he can say for a moment, his voice wavering with the pain he feels for you and the guilt he feels for not seeing the signs sooner.

Tears stream down your cheeks but your face is frozen still in worry. You couldn't break down sobbing now to save your life if you needed to. It felt like your emotions just shut off completely. All you could do was hyperfocus on what you needed to do to keep yourself safe in that moment. Which was ridiculous, considering you were with Steve who had never, ever hurt you before. For some reason, danger still felt imminent.

Steve pulled back, cradling your face in his hands, brows furrowed with worry and eyes the slightest bit glossy. "You're safe now sweetheart. We're gonna keep you safe. I'm gonna keep you safe."

You nod because your brain tells you it's the right response. You're not sure if you're actually hearing anything he's saying. You register the feeling of his thumb, swiping across your cheek. He must see the glazed over look on your face. You think he calls your name a couple times and the next few minutes are blurry. You're breathing, breathing deeply and slowly with him. He's guiding you back to yourself.

You blink a couple of times as your awareness sharpens back into focus. "With me again sweetheart?" Steve asks, thumb still caressing your cheek. It's bad, he knows that. You need to see a professional right away, but he needs you conscious and present in your body first. "Y/N, I'm so sorry that this has happened to you. I'm never going to let it happen again. But right now, we really need to get you to a doctor."

You're shaking your head violently halfway through his sentence. "No, no I don't need a doctor," you say instinctively.

"Sweetheart, I've seen bruises like this before and we need to make sure that nothing is broken," he says. "I can call in Bruce, or Helen, if you'd like. No one else on the team has to know if you don't want them to. But we need to make sure you're okay."

"Okay?" you ask, confused. "He's going to know, he always says I can't go to a doctor or the hospital, that they won't even treat me because nothing is wrong and he'll be so mad if I do it, I promised not to." The look in your eyes is wild, but you're speaking in sentences again and Steve takes this as a good sign. What you're saying is an entirely different story. But if he wants to help you, he can only take it one step at a time.

"He's never going to find out, I promise. Okay? You're not even going to leave the building, just downstairs in the medbay. No paperwork, no records, nothing. I'll stay with you if you want." You don't look convinced. "I promise he'll never know, alright? Do you trust me when I say that?" he asks, hoping to appeal to your rational side.

"Steve, I–I... he always finds out everything I try to keep from him. Why would this time be any different?" you're desperate and terrified, and Steve wants to rip that guy's throat out for everything he's done to make you like this.

"Sweetheart, because this time you have a team of superheroes and spies who are behind you," Steve says with a small smile.

This is what gets through to you. Your gaze flickers between his eyes, and your brows are still taught with fear. Slowly, however, you nod your head and say, "Okay Steve."

Relief floods his face as he pulls you back in for a gentle hug. "It's gonna be alright," he promises. You want to believe him so badly.

Thank you for reading! Comments & reblogs are always appreciated. If I can help anyone feel comforted by this, I'll have done my job<3

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cap-n-ce · 6 months ago

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Hayley Atwell as Peggy Carter and Chris Evans as Steve Rogers CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER 2011 | dir. Joe Johnston

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cap-n-ce · 7 months ago

Text

Master list

**Updated 13/11/2022**

Chris Evans Fanfiction

Author note:

I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-posted, translated, or published on other sites than on my Tumblr. Comments, likes and reblogs are however much appreciated and humbly welcomed.

One shots

C-evans imagine

Reader and Chris meeting at a party

Little peanut

Reader and Chris suffer from a miscarriage

Trigger warnings: mentions of missed miscarriage

Getting ready

Getting ready isn’t always easy when living with Chris

Morning after

The morning after between the reader and Chris

Meeting the family

It’s time to meet the readers family

Party with Chris

Party time with Chris

Grocery shopping with Chris

Who says that grocery shopping isn’t fun?

The night of Dodger’s surgery

Reader helps Chris through the day and night of Dodger’s surgery

Baby Rose

Adjusting to life as new parents isn’t a piece of cake

Peaches

Reader and Chris have inside jokes about the lovely fruit

My rock

Reader’s mom is diagnosed with cancer and Chris helps.

Trigger warning: Mentions of cancer.

Sinful insecurities

Chris notices a certain web page on readers Ipad and it doesn’t sit well with him.

The art of being… an ass

Chris goes to a art opening and accidentally insults the artist.

Please stop doing that

The reader misses Chris and doesn’t care that he’s working.

Why not?

Chris wants to date the reader but there’s something holding the reader back.

Reasons NOT to date

Chris has been pursing the reader, wanting to date but the reader doesn’t want to ruin the friendship.

Welcome home

The reader welcomes Chris home.

SMUT

Goodbye, Captain America

Chris says goodbye to Captain America and reader’s there for him.

Insatiable

SMUT

Actions and words

Reader and Chris talking about PR and more.

Cravings

Reader’s eating habits have changed a lot which Chris notice.

Back home

Reader and Chris finds ways to pass the time.

SMUT

Jealous

Jealous Chris

Unrequited love

Casual agreement turns into something else or maybe… not.

Quarantine with Chris

Quarantine with Chris, reader feels hopeless but luckily Chris is there for support.

We ought to do something about that

After watching Chris in DJ, the reader wants more.

No longer dating…

The reader and Chris have some big news that they have yet to share with family and friends.

Tight white shirt

A certain tight shirt is doing great things to the reader.

Oops

Chris accidentally drops the reader’s name while on Jimmy Fallon.

Drunk(ish)

Reader comes from from a night out and is slightly drunk ishh.

That’s real fortunate

Reader feels very fortunate that she gets a private show everyday.

Bath time

Taking baths are just more fun when Chris’ involved.

SMUT

One final dip

Getting that last dip in the pool

Fluff

Hold me

Holding him or you being held. Doesn’t matter.

Angsty/fluff

First steps

Your baby’s first steps is definitely something to remember.

Cardio

Just a little bit of cardio

SMUT

The suit

Seeing Chris dressed in a suit on the set of Defending Jacob

SMUT

My piano hoe

Just Chris playing the piano and being kinda of hoe-ish

Old man slippers and trees

Chris’ slippers and talks of trees and more.

The greatest painting

Chris receives the greatest painting from you. Who would’ve thought diamond painting was that good?

Change is good?

Who says change is bad?

SMUT

Prank war

It was all fun and games in the beginning. Now it wasn’t. You weren’t feeling it anymore. Enough is enough.

Happy Goddamn New Year

The morning after your New Year with the Evans’ which doesn’t go all that smooth.

GOOD GOD, MAN

One headshot is all it takes. One very fine headshot of your man turns into a whole lot of something else.

SMUT

No one touches Bubba

Chris really doesn’t like it when other people touches what belongs to him.

Super Bowl a la Evans

Super Bowl at home with Chris.

Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day with Chris turns out to be something different.

Heart throbbing, ground shaking, show stopping, amazing

While staying at Chris’, he overhears a very suggestive conversation happening between you and your friends.

Thirsting

It isn’t just women on Twitter, Tumblr or wherever that thirsted over Chris Evans.

Control yourself

It’s hard to control oneself when looking at a fine specimen like Chris Evans or rather a certain body part of him.

Crappy cramping and Chris

Gotta love being a woman, right? Well maybe not those few days every month. Luckily it’s less crappy when Chris is there to help. Or tries to.

One day, some day

How much heart ache and pain can one person endure and if so how? Loving someone never hurt this bad.

Trigger Warning: Mentioning of stillbirth/stillborn child.

Like always?

With Chris it’s always so good? He makes sure of that.

SMUT

You do this a lot?

Staring at someone while they sleeping is romantic or that’s Chris’ opinion.

Everyone’s an onion

Layers like onions. Everyone’s an onion. That’s what Chris tell his 1 year old son.

Not as expected

Chris turning 40 years old. Thing do not go as planned or expected.

Marvel Tramp

Nicknames are always nice? Right? Well most of them are - and then there’s yours. The nickname that some of the MCU fans have given you- Chris gives his input on that note.

Dodger and Brady boy

Your son Brady gets jealous because of all the attention that Dodger is getting.

Always

Crap-static day is salvageable if you get that one thing. That one thing can change everything and that ‘thing’ is Chris.

I see you

Nothing goes unnoticed by your boyfriend, Chris. He sees it all. And so do you.

Impressive

Your man, Chris, continues to impress you in ways you hadn’t expected.

Old?

You giving Chris a back rub when he gets back from work. He’s insecure about your age difference and topped off with being tired.

Yours

How to describe the love of your life in just one word?

Happens all the time

What happens when Chris says something else in church other than ‘I do’?

Mi Vida

Chris doesn’t just practise his spanish just for you but for several reasons.

SMUT

I know you

Game night went south so quickly. Apparently you don’t know Chris as well as he thought you did. Or so he thinks?

A Drunken Confession

Chris makes a drunken confession about his plans for the future.

Rainy day activities

Chris soon learns how his SO has other plans for their rainy day.

SMUT

‘Could you not?”

Simple really, could he just not? His whole being is just too damn much sometimes.

Halloween

The costume, the party, the people. The Halloween anyone could’ve asked for? So what is missing?

People’s Sexiest Man Alive

Title or not? Who’s really the sexiest man alive?

Home

What does it mean? Home? What is home really all about?

Plant Daddy

Chris Evans, fine but as a plant daddy? Damn- But is a plant really only a plant?

Our secret

Dating Chris is swell and everything but…someone hasn’t heard the news about the two of you?

Sweater Thief

Dating Chris has lot of perks…One, being stealing his sweaters.

Pay attention

Paying attention isn’t always easy when Chris just looks so distracting.

SMUTTY CONTENT

Spill or Fill your guts

Reader’s an actress who’s appearing on the Late Late Show doing the Segment, Spill or fill your guts. What could possibly go wrong?

Creative Writing

You and Chris moving in together. You have to sort through your stuff. You come across something old, something you wrote years ago. You aren’t the only one who discovers what you’d been hiding.

Rosie & Addie

Chris appearing on Jimmy Fallon. To talk about his latest movie among other things. Like his two daughters.

Fluff

A piece of work

Sometimes you just want some peace and quiet. Chris, not so much. Clingy but cute while doing so.

Cute

Chris proves you wrong in regards of what is deemed cute.

Nothing

The best possible cure for insomnia? = Chris.

SMUT

More than enough

Feeling a bit jealous after having seen pictures of Chris kissing someone else for work. Could there be more to it than just jealousy?

‘You love me.’

You end up confession your love for Chris Evans…He isn’t the only Evans who hears your confession.

Like I’m gonna lose you

‘So Chris was laser-focused on finding a partner?’ What in the world were you then? Just someone to pass time with? - You ask yourself these questions but Chris has the answers.

‘The come down’

‘The come down’ not literally but still in some sense yes. Coming down after several loooong weeks of doing two press tours…Chris finally gets to go back home. He gets to come home to you.

5 Second Rule

Appearing on Ellen’s show and going head to head in ‘5 Second Rule’ about how well you know each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Pops - Greatest wingman

Your grandpa being the best wingman ever. Apparently.

Sexiest Man Alive 2022

Chris brings you to his SMA photoshoot…. Only you didn’t know anything about it.

Other CE - Characters

Steve Rogers

The Science of Love

You work alongside Dr. Banner and Tony but your presence at the compound catches someone else’s attention.

Series

Not enough - Part 1

Chris and reader have been dating for years but broke up just before quarantine started.

Not enough - part 2

Is it too late to mend what’s been broken?

The ring

Chris’s about to ask you to marry him…Or is he?

Falling, Fallen

An ordinary walk in the park may turn into something more.

Falling, Fallen - Part 2

The first date. Yay, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Falling, Fallen - Part 3 - Part ½

The next date couldn’t possibly go as wrong as the first one.

Falling, Fallen - Part 3 - Part 2/2

Date number two no, number one in fact. Can’t go wrong. Maybe it’ll go right. Very right.

Falling, Fallen - Part 4

Dinner at Chris’ house. Nice and easy, right? Or maybe not? And what about that first kiss? When’s that gonna happen?

Falling, Fallen - Part 5

Now that you and Chris had shared that very first moment - kiss- what will happen next? Does it stop at kissing or will more happen between you two??

Falling, Fallen - Part 6

Things are going great with you and Chris. Spending more time together is nice but that also opens up questions about the two of you. Not to mention spending a night together - what will happen?

Happy together? - Part 1

The reader’s happy in their current relationship so how come doubts arises whenever Chris is near.

Happy together? - Part 2

Things has been a bit rocky lately between the reader and her boyfriend and things are about to get a whole lot more rocky.

Happy together? - Part 3

Nothing could happen while on a trip with your friends? That you were sure of. Nothing could or would ever happen. This was certain.

Happy together? - Part 4

Going out clubbing with your friends seemed like a good idea at the time. But things goes wrong. Or maybe they go right?

Happy together? - Part 5

Getting lost seems scary but maybe it doesn’t have to be.

Happy together? - Part 6

What happens after you’re lost and then found. The following days after this.

Happy together? - Part 7

The last night at the cabin before returning back to reality. It’s a night to remember.

Happy together? - Part 8

So, what happens now? You and Chris kissed. Your bestfriend saw it. Question is what will happen next?

Happy together? - Part 9

Back to reality. You know what to do. Or do you? John’s acting different and you stil haven’t spoken with Chris since the cabin trip.

Happy together? - Part 10

Something’s ending. It should be easy but this is real life, so of course it isn’t easy or anywhere near.

Happy together? - Part 11

A lot went down. –> The truth finally came out. A fight. Question is now what will happen.

First time (almost) - part 1

Reader and Chris’ first time (or almost) Reader’s a virgin and everything that could go wrong, goes wrong

First time (almost) - part 2

Reader and Chris’ first time. (For real, this time.)

Smut

First time (almost) - part 3

An ask

Smut

Tag list

@bellaireland1981

@denisemarieangelina

@patzammit

@chris-butt

@castellandiangelo

@harrysthiccthighss

@tantricevans

@katiew1973

@missswriter

@arabescapr

@liquorlaughslove

@chaneajoyyy

@ la-cey

@adoreyou976

@geminievans1

@justile

@breezykpop

@nikkitc0703

@moonlacebeam

@mrspeacem1nusone

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cap-n-ce · 9 months ago

Photo

Steggy Week 2021. Day 7: Free choice

What I love about Steggy

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cap-n-ce · 9 months ago

Text

AGENT CARTER (2015 - 2016) 1.05: The Iron Ceiling WHAT IF...? (2021 - ) 2.08: What If... The Avengers Assembled in 1602?

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cap-n-ce · 9 months ago

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Wade, you are special. This is your chance to be a hero among heroes.

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cap-n-ce · 10 months ago

Note

Number one (I absolutely love little mix <3)with Steve

Hi anon!! thank you so much for requesting something! I didn’t know if you wanted this to be with Steve Harrington or Rogers, but I went with Cap because I’m in the mood for Marvel. Also I’m sorry this took me so long to post!

Woman Like Me || Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You had the biggest crush on Steve, but you thought you were too different to work as a couple. Although that didn't mean you couldn't have a little fun with him.

Or the one where Steve is shy and you love to tease him.

Based on the prompt 1 from this prompt list: “And every time we touch, boy, you make me feel weak // I can tell you’re shy, and I think you’re so sweet” (Woman Like Me by Little Mix)

Warnings: shy!steve (he's so adorable omg), mutual pining, fluff but like a lot of it

English is not my first language

Word count: 3000+

Notes: I wrote this in a couple of hours while trying to distract myself from another story that is giving me some trouble so I'm sorry if it sucks :(

There weren't many things you were certain about in your life. As part of the Avengers, your daily life was plagued with problems and difficult decisions that made you question every step you took. You loved your job because it allowed you to help people and build a better world. But you also hated it because it meant that your mind never had a break, always worrying about doing the right thing and wondering if you had proceeded in the right way. Your thoughts were a mess of disastrous emotions most of the time, and you always ended up doubting yourself and your abilities.

However, there were two things you never doubted. One, you had the biggest crush on Steve Rogers. And two, you two were incompatible.

It wasn't because he was your Captain and flirting with him would be inappropriate—God knows that hadn't stopped you in the past—, but because Steve was the most different person to you on the entire team. On the battlefield he was confident and determined. He always knew what to do and how to do it, and he never seemed to doubt his judgment, inspiring confidence in anyone who listened to him talk for more than five minutes. But behind closed doors, Steve was a big softie, shy and reserved. And you weren't. In fact, you were the exact opposite, drawing everyone's attention to you when you walked into a room. You were confident and enjoyed having everyone's eyes on you, a quality that in your mind kept you from the possibility of being with someone like Steve.

But just because you two wouldn't work as a couple didn't mean you couldn't have a little fun with him. Steve was a man who blushed easily and you loved watching the redness slowly creep up his neck, settling on his cheeks every time someone gave him a compliment. It gave him an innocent look that drove you crazy, especially when it was your comments that caused it.

Naturally, being the type of person you were, it didn't take you long to make it your personal mission to make Steve blush as many times as you could. It was like a game to you, testing the waters to find out what made him tick. At first it was simple comments about how good he looked or how pretty his eyes were. He always seemed so surprised and out of his element when he heard your words, struggling to respond in coherent sentences, and you loved it. You were fascinated by the idea that someone like Captain America himself—who was not only much more older than you, but also much bigger and physically stronger—would crumble at your simple comments. He was adorable and you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach every time he blushed.

As time went on, Steve got used to your compliments and at some point they stopped having the effect they used to. So you, in your desire to see the embarrassment flash in his eyes, took it a step further, focusing your tactics on simple brushes of your body against his and more explicit comments. It was all accidental, brushing his thigh with your hand when you sat close together on movie nights or grabbing hold of his biceps to keep from falling when sudden dizziness attacked you out of nowhere. His eyes would widen and blood would quickly pool in his cheeks, but when the initial surprise passed he would lean into your touch. You didn't know if it was because he enjoyed it or because he was used to your nonsense. Whatever the reason was, you weren't complaining because it gave you an excuse to stay close to him for a little longer.

You'd love to be able to say that you had everything under control, that your teasing and casual rubbing had no effect on you, but that wasn't true. You might have Steve eating out of the palm of your hand, but it wasn't a one-way street because he had the same power over you. Only in his case it was worse, because he didn't even know what he was doing every time he smiled at you or whenever he leaned over your caresses, looking up at you with his big blue eyes full of innocence.

You were totally and utterly fucked, but you didn't want to stop even though you knew you probably should. You were addicted to him and the way he made you feel. And at this point, finding a new way to make him blush at least once a day had become part of your routine. So you kept going, even though you knew you were entering dangerous territory.

When Tony announced he was having a party you took it as another opportunity to tease Steve and see how far you could push him. You didn't even hear what the reason for the celebration was and you didn't care, all your mind did from that moment until the day of the party was think of new ways to make Steve blush. You started with your outfit, choosing a red dress that while not very revealing, hugged your curves in the best way. And once you had your look planned down to the last detail, you focused on the tactics you would use to get the job done. You were pretty sure that the crowd of strangers would play in your favor. Steve was used to putting up with your nonsense when alone or accompanied by the rest of the avengers, his best friends and the people he trusted most in the world. But a party full of guests he didn't know presented a different scenario. You decided it would be best to start small—a few compliments here, a sneaky hand on his chest there—and see where that got you.

When the day came you spent hours getting ready, locked in your room. You didn't want Steve to see you until you were ready, hoping your outfit would help you surprise him. You didn't go down to the party until it had started, making sure you heard the music and the chatter of people milling around the tower before you left your room. You wanted to make an entrance, to have his eyes locked on your figure from across the room like in the movies, and for that you needed people to be there.

You found Steve in the crowd with ease. He was sitting at the bar, drinking a few beers while chatting with Bucky and Sam. He was wearing a blue shirt that clung to his figure, accentuating his well-toned muscles. His eyes locked onto yours for a brief moment, admiring your form in the dim light of the room. You smiled at him and despite the distance separating the two of you, you were able to notice his nervousness as he realized you had caught him devouring you with your gaze.

Even though every fiber of your body wanted to run to him and wrap your arms around him to feel his body against yours, you held back, opting to enjoy the party a little first so as not to be so obvious. You were pretty sure Steve knew what was to come, he could read it in your eyes every time your gazes met, but you decided to wait. Tension and anticipation was an exciting part of that cat and mouse game you were participating in and you were counting on them to help you win.

You waited until Steve stopped looking for you in the crowd from time to time to approach, using the element of surprise to your advantage. But before you made your way over to him you turned to the dj Tony had hired for the night, asking him to play a slow song. You wanted to dance with Steve and you knew the only way you could do that would be if it was to music he was comfortable with. The guy behind the booth was nice, letting you choose which song you wanted and assuring you that he would play it next.

You approached Steve with a smile on your face, anticipation tingling inside you. He was laughing at a comment Sam had made when you appeared at his side, placing your hand on his arm to get his attention. He turned to look at you and you noticed how the breath caught in his throat at your presence, clearly not expecting to see you.

“You clean up nice!” You spoke with a smile, letting your eyes wander over his figure, admiring how the fabric hugged and accentuated the muscles of his body. “Blue is definitely your color, Captain.” You bit your lip to contain the smile that wanted to form on your face as you noticed the way Steve shifted in his seat at the mention of his title.

“T-thank you, Y/N.” He nervously blurted out, clearing his throat in an attempt to buy time for his brain to formulate a response. “You, hum, you look b-beautiful too… not that I think I'm beautiful! I don't think so highly of myself, it's just that you said-” He rambled on without thinking about what he was saying. You let out a small chuckle, endeared by his reaction and amused by Sam's disappointed face.

“It’s okay, Steve. I got you.” He let out a nervous laugh as he cursed his brain for abandoning him at that moment. You always made him look ridiculous and he really wanted to prove to you that he wasn't a complete idiot. He had been preparing himself from the moment he saw you walk into the party, imagining the thousands ways you would try to embarrass him. He thought he was ready to face you, but you didn't show up, so for a while your presence disappeared from his mind. He was beginning to relax again when you appeared at his side and his brain forgot all his cognitive functions.

“For the record, I think you are a very attractive man, Steve. Don't sell yourself short.” Steve swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. You let your eyes follow it for a moment, silently admiring the veins marking the area around his neck before returning your gaze to his eyes.

“T-thank you, Y/N.” And there it was again, the redness creeping up his neck to his cheeks. You smiled proudly, surprised that it had taken you so little to get him to blush. You thought you were past the stage where simple compliments embarrassed him. Maybe you were mistaken. Or maybe Sam and Bucky's murmuring next to him was making him nervous. Whatever was the reason, you took it as a victory, but you didn't stop there. You still wanted to know how far you could go.

Just in time, the melody of the song you had chosen to dance with Steve began to echo through the large room. Some people around you hurried to the dance floor, hugging their partners as they moved to the soft rhythm of the music. You watched the crowd for a moment before turning to look at Steve once more, finding his big blue eyes locked on your figure.

“Would you dance with me, Steve?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the sound of the music. It took Steve a few seconds to understand what you had said, distracted by your closeness. He felt Sam's light kick to the side of his leg, bringing him back to reality. He nodded his head slightly, taking your hand in his and walking to the dance floor with you.

Steve took you by the waist, his grip unsure, and made sure to keep some distance between your bodies so as not to make you uncomfortable. You thought it was adorable the way he was taking care of you, but you wanted to feel him against you, to be completely enveloped by the warmth of his body. So you moved closer to him, running your hands up his firm chest until you reached his neck. Your fingers entwined around the back of his neck, holding him tight against you. Steve was tense, you could feel it in the stiffness of his shoulders. It wasn't a tension caused by discomfort, but one caused by nerves and fear of making a fool of himself. So you gave him a warm smile and that seemed to help him loosen up a little, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as you began to move to the gentle rhythm of the music.

You were in heaven, trapped in Steve's strong arms as his figure towered over you. His big blue eyes watched you in wonder, as if he couldn't believe the situation he was in. A slight pinkish tint still colored his cheeks and there was nothing you wanted more than to intensify it, but you held back, deciding to enjoy the moment for a little while longer before continuing with your fun.

The world around you ceased to exist, it was just you, him and the sound of music guiding your steps. The scent of his cologne assaulted your nostrils, every time you inhaled you breathed in his scent, intoxicating in it. Steve's fingers began to caress your waist, his thumbs moving in a circular motion over the fabric of your dress. It awakened a tingling sensation that ran through your whole body and left you completely stupid, feeling weak in the knees.

"Not so bad for a man your age." You broke the silence, joking to hide how much his simple touch affected you. You laid your head on his chest, hiding from his intense gaze in an attempt to regain your composure. But in that pose you were able to hear the sound of his heart beating rapidly against his chest and you felt a tingle of joy and pride run through your body, knowing that you were the one responsible for it. "I could get used to this." You muttered without really realizing what you were saying, losing yourself in the moment as you hummed the song under your breath.

"You're killing me, sweetheart." Steve whispered against your hair, his voice barely audible. "All the little games you play are driving me crazy."

"What if they are not just games?" You asked, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. You noticed some confusion in his eyes and wondered if it was really so weird to think that you had feelings for him. "What if I told you I like you, Steve?"

"I would tell you I'm flattered that a beautiful woman such as yourself has such feelings for me. And that I'm glad I'm not the only one." Steve gave you one of his perfect, charming smiles, the kind that always awakened butterflies in your stomach. He sounded confident despite the slight blush on his cheeks—well, more confident than he usually sounded when he was with you—, and you had to admit you liked the way it looked on him. It was a nice change from the babbling mess he used to be in your presence.

"You look adorable when you blush. Has anyone ever told you that?" You said with a smile, feeling the tingle of joy run through your whole body as you discovered that Steve also had feelings for you.

"Yes, you did actually, multiple times." He laughed. Your eyes dropped down to his lips for a moment, admiring the way they curved up into his smile. God, he was perfect. His lips seemed to be so soft that you began to wonder how they would feel on yours.

"Steve," you whispered, forcing yourself to look away from his lips. "Can I kiss you?" He gave you a simple nod and that was all you needed to give in to your desires. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his, using your grip on the back of his neck to pull him to you. Even with heels on he was still a couple of inches taller than you, his body towering over yours in an imposing manner. You loved the difference in height, loved the feel of his strong arms pressing you against his body as your lips moved together.

It was an experimental kiss, a curious brushing of lips as you tested the waters, discovering what it felt like to be bound together in such a way. Electricity ran down your spine as soon as you felt the pressure of Steve's lips on yours and you knew then and there that you couldn't go back to normal after that. There was no way you could forget what it felt like to kiss him because you were pretty sure that was all you wanted to do for the rest of your life, kiss him until you could no longer feel your lips.

Fireworks exploded behind your eyes as you intensified the kiss a little, your tongue curiously exploring his mouth. You wanted to memorize every detail of that moment, to remember forever the softness of his lips against yours and the sweet sound Steve had let out when you nibbled his lower lip playfully, the moan vibrating in his chest against yours. You were in heaven, flying through clouds of satisfaction and bliss, and you never wanted to come down. But you needed to breathe, so you were forced to separate your lips from his, though you refused to put distance between your bodies.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that." Steve whispered against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes.

"I'm willing to do it again, you know, if you want." You said in a casual tone with a smile planted on your face..

"God, yes. I want everything with you." Steve assured, before crashing his lips against yours.

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cap-n-ce · 10 months ago

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What about shy!steve rogers?

Just imagine you fresh in your relationship and he is still shy about everything sexual. So one time he is jerk off and moaning your name (while he thinks you are out) but you are home and hear him. When he notices that you see him he is so shy and try to hide his member… but you help him jerk off and praise him.???🤌🏻✨

Shy!Steve Rogers just became my fav. Ty for this <33

Fantasies

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, praise, desperation, degradation, mention of breeding, oral, and ball worship

w/c: 1.5k

'*•.¸♡¸.•*'

Steve Rogers craves your touch more than anything else in the world.

Even the slightest graze led to thoughts of burying himself inside of you. Your sugary tone as you thread your fingers through his locks always caused him to leak shamelessly into his underwear.

In his sleep, he’d shake with need, nuzzling into your shoulder to quiet his cries as he dreamt of claiming you as his. He’d wake up a sticky mess, gliding out of bed and running an ice cold shower. Throwing his head back against the wall as he slid his hand down his length, thoughts of you sinking to your knees rendering the icy water useless.

“That’s it, angel” he’d murmur, gritting his teeth to muffle his cries as he envisioned your precious lips wrapped around him.

But unfortunately, that shameless side of him had to be tucked away.

You knew him as your sweet Steve Rogers, a man who took three months to ask you out because the thought of you saying “no” terrified him. A man who drops everything the moment you call and carries you back to the comfort of your bed the instant you declare “let’s stay in tonight.”

He fantasized about leaving you broken, your pussy throbbing as he fucked you into the mattress. Shoving his cock down your throat. Getting off to the sound of you choking and sputtering as he releases. Images of tears streaming down your cheeks as he rubbed his balls all over your gorgeous face, his seed staining your skin as a gentle reminder of who you belong to.

He had never felt this way before…and it scared him. It felt wrong to think of you that way, to crave more than your gentle touch. And what if he messed up? He hadn’t been with anyone else in decades so what if you hated it, hated him for not being able to satisfy you?

So he kept those eager thoughts locked away. Promising to himself that you wouldn’t see that insatiable side of him.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t relinquish control when he was alone.

'*•.¸♡¸.•*'

Sitting atop the covers, Steve glides his hands over his aching cock. His thighs are spread wide, tip glaring red and dripping with pre cum as his hand travels down his length.

“F-fuck. Feels so good,” he whimpers, chanting your name every time he comes close to release.

His eyes roll back, fingers gliding down his slick shaft as he cries out for your touch. “Need you so badly,” he sobs. “W– want to fill you up. Make my cum leak out of that pretty cunt.”

He grips his heavy balls, tugging at them roughly. Whenever you shot him that perfect smile, he couldn’t resist imagining what you’d look like coated in his seed. Your tongue desperately licking at his balls before he shoves them into your mouth. How he’d jerk off onto your body, painting you into a perfect picture.

“Look so pretty sucking daddy’s balls, baby. Fuck, M’so messy. See what you do to me? Need you to clean it up for me. Suck daddy’s cock for me, angel.”

He swipes his hand over his slit, moaning loudly as another spurt of cum drips down his cock. Steve envisions your pretty tits dangling in front of him, your sweet, intoxicating scent wafting around him.

“I– I can’t stop cumming.”

He apologizes as if you could hear, his eyes clenched tightly as another wave of euphoria approaches.

But little to his knowledge, his cries don’t go unheard.

You inch down the hallway, following the sound of Steve’s alluring groans. You peer through the cracked door, your desperation sticking to your thighs as his moans grow louder.

Your breath halts from the sight of your man sprawled across his bed. He’s heaving, his lips parted and eyes shut. He’s covered in his seed and so were the sheets. The slick noise echoes around the room and you couldn’t help but slide your hand down your shorts.

Steve jerks upwards, a thick rope of cum shooting out towards his chest and nearly missing his jaw. “Please, angel” he begs, shouting your name as if it could magically make you appear.

He thinks about fucking you against every surface in this apartment. Breeding you so full that you’re begging him for mercy. Then he’d sink to the ground, spreading your legs and devouring every last drop.

You inch inside the room, quietly making your way to the bed. Steve’s hair is slick, his face wet with desperation.

He’d leave you wrecked and motionless. But he wouldn’t mind carrying you around his place afterwards, doing everything for you, and treating you like the princess you are. Taking you into the shower, cleaning your body, praising you for how good you’ve been. All to just hike your leg over his shoulder and grind into that pretty cunt all over again.

“Can you cum for me, Princess? Squirt all over daddy’s cock. C’mon, baby. I’ve got you, just let go for me.”

“Baby?” You whisper. Your voice is weak, eyes trapped on his twitching length.

“Mhm,” he murmurs.

You break into a smile. “Stevie?”

His eyes flutter open, the darkness now replaced by the image of his sweet girl. He scrambles for the covers, yanking them over his naked body with wide, frantic, eyes. “I’m so sorry, you weren’t supposed to– I didn’t–”

His cheeks grow red, and his chest is tight with humiliation. How could he be so reckless? He knew you had a key but you weren’t supposed to be here for another three hours. Fuck. This was it. You’d think he was a freak. Steve looks away, fiddling with his fingers as he begs for forgiveness.

“Hey, hey. Shh. It’s okay, baby. I’m not mad.”

But he doesn’t respond. Instead, he shrinks, anxiously spewing out apology after apology.

You strip yourself of your clothing as he babbles on. A smile creeps onto your face as you climb into bed and draw him to your chest.

“I’m not upset, Stevie,” you murmur.

“You’re not?” He whispers. “But–"

You shake your head, spreading your legs until he’s sitting between your spread legs. “My pretty baby. Looked so cute saying my name.” You slide your hands down his chest, kissing his neck softly.

“You could’ve told me.”

He shakes his head, “D-didn’t want you to think of me differently. I’m not good at this. I’m not experienced. I just know what I feel for you and that’s to make you happy.”

“You’ve made me happy every day since we met, Steve. You mean everything to me.”

Steve whimpers as you grasp his cock, uncaring of the fact that your hands are covered in his spend. He’s thick and heavy in your hands, throbbing as you graze his skin. You begin to pump slowly, smiling as he shutters from your touch.

His head tilts to the side to meet your lips and he melts against you, groaning as your pace quickens.

“I’m so lucky to have you. So patient and kind. Sweetest boy in the world.”

You wanted him to feel secure. To know that every thought running through his mind could be said aloud and not spoken in secret. Because truthfully, you were just as desperate for him.

The odds of him walking in on you shouting his name as you came undone were just as high. Fuck, you couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you. His heavy frame crushing your body as he grinds into you, hitting you deep.

His breathing grows heavier as you pepper him with kisses. “You know what I think about, baby?”

“Mhm?”

“How you’d shove that pretty cock into me. Stretch me until shaking. Dumping load after load into my pussy, sliding your fingers against my slit and fucking it all back into me.”

You whine as he moans your name, gripping your free hand in his. “I always cum so hard thinking about how you’d hover over me. Taunting me for allowing you to do whatever you want to my body.”

Steve nearly broke from the picture that you had just painted. He mewls, gripping your hand tighter as your thumb rubs against his slit.

“I’m sorry you’ve been so pent up, baby. You’re always so sweet. So patient. These past few months have been the most memorable days of my life and it’s all because of you.”

“I love you”

“You love me?” He whimpers. It was the first time those words had escaped your thoughts. The relationship was still new and yet, all you ever thought about was how much you loved the man before you.

You nod, “More than anything.”

You love him. His body tenses as you pepper kisses along his neck, whispering praise into his ear as you stroke him sensually.

“I- I love you too.”

Steve searches for your lips once again right as thick white ropes erupt from his cock. His legs shake as he reaches his high. His seed drips down your fingers and pools around his base and eagerly you bring them to your lips, sucking them dry before pressing your mouth back against his.

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cap-n-ce · 10 months ago

Text

I had a Steve Rogers with bucky Dream it was so vivid yet I can't put it into writing 😢😢🥺🥺🥺 I need help to those who can take in requests pls

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #stucky x reader

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cap-n-ce · 10 months ago

Text

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

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

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

word count: 10.8k

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

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

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck.

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

Holy Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shut up, punk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t serious.”

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

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

“You’re rich, too, Sam.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew better though.

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was worrisome.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So...?”

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

“Yes, very.”

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

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

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

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

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

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

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

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

Happy one month!

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

Happy one month.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong.

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“What? When?”

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

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

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“You forgot your flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I trust you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re very good at this.”

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know if I-“

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

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

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

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“Good morning, Sharon.”

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

“What? Until when?”

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

“Do you know what she has?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*smack*

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

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

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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