#CaptainsWeeklyChallenge

[writerwrites]

Will You Hold On My Love

Pairing: Frank Adler x Reader

Summary: You were supposed to be his rebound and you were supposed to go it alone, so why are you both holding on for dear life?

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of death and sex but neither are written in. Cancer, general sads and fluff. Really, it’s just a fic about two people wanting nice things and life being life, so take that as you will.

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 5 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge [due a decade ago oops] created by @captainchrisbaby​​, @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​​ , and @donutloverxo​​ … The Week 5 Prompt was based on the gif below and Where Do Lovers Go by Ghostly Kisses | Dividers by the talented @whimsicalrogers​​

You’d met at tipping points in a bar, one drink in a piece.

Frank and Bonnie were done, the whole town knew about it except you. You were minding your own business really, you had your own problems and the last thing you needed was it spread all over town like the half-dozen sob stories tied to the Adler family. Everyone had problems, some more than others, and you’d been determined to be an empathetic decent human being the first time someone tried to spread Frank’s business into your general direction. It was your innate ability to gently veer a conversation away from drama that had made you pleasantly forgettable to every friend group you were a part of. It also happened to be the reason you were sat in a drab local bar on a Thursday evening spending an obnoxious amount of quarters to play Sonnet by The Verve on repeat like you could convince the whole three people in there that your favorite band was more than a one hit wonder. Then he sat next to you and everything changed...

“If you play it one more time, then you owe me a drink.” Frank Adler, who hadn’t spoken to you since grade school, now sat next to you in the bar at the edge of town. You watched him pick up a quarter, spinning it with his thumb and pointer, and watching it spin and stop before repeating two more times before the song repeated, “All right, you owe me a Guinness.”

With a nod to the bartender, you held up two fingers and he did just that. As you brought the beer to your lips, you hummed the song and he watched you with the slightest curve to his lips. “What? Can’t a girl play a song on repeat to get it out of her head?”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing?” He tilted the bottle back, the tone one of obvious doubt. “I thought people were supposed to reserve that sort of behavior to their bathrooms with a bottle of wine?”

Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him, already smiling a little as you pretended to take offense. Frank was right, most people kept that depressing blubbering to themselves, but you knew that with the news you’d gotten the last thing you should be doing tonight was sitting alone. “Nope, but did you really come in here tonight to listen to a stranger’s problems or did you come to forget your own.”

“Touché.” You followed his lead, chugging back your drinks and slamming them to the sticky bartop. He slipped off the stool and tossed a few bills to the counter, no pretense, and you did the same, albeit with a little less grace in your descent. With a nod of appreciation to the bartender before grabbing your things, you followed the tall blonde out of the bar and tried to ignore the knowing glances from the few patrons left behind. It wasn’t until the crisp autumn air nipped at your ears that Frank spoke again. “You’re not a stranger. I remember you from school.”

“Well, neither of us are who we used to be. Safer to assume we’re stranger-adjacent then. As The Verve would say, All this talk of getting old, it’s getting me down…” You winked and he shook his head. “How many are you in? Are you good to drive?” His shrug left you unconvinced. “I’m a Bud Light and Guinness in- on a whole dinner, so I’m fine. I’ll drive.”

Frank’s stormy blue eyes glanced toward his truck and he pursed his lips before rocking on his heels and following you, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he followed you. There was a sense of relief in not having to bicker with a man about the subject. You didn’t know that it was his every intention to stick to his usual coping strategy: easy lay, slipping out with Mary as an excuse the second the sex was over. Frank Adler had mastered the art of escape and now that Mary was thirteen and more than capable of handling herself, those escapes typically led right back to another bar. It wasn’t actually about being there for Mary, it was about feeling something, even if it was temporary. Somehow, in some cavern in the back of both of your minds, in the comfortable silence of the car ride where he reached over and surprised you by taking your hand in his, there seemed to be some unspoken decision to not make a mess of this.

God, you wanted to tell him. When you woke up to him fast asleep, long lashes casting small shadows on his sun kissed cheekbones as the late morning light licked at his skin through your bedroom window. His chest pressed close into your side, his legs tangled in yours, and his calloused fingers stretched across the expanse of your ribs like you were something small when in reality he simply dwarfed you. This stung, the ache to wake him up and be as honest as the pair of you had been last night. He’d put you on a pedestal and worshiped you. You’d called out his name and praised him as he gave you everything you asked for. Your skin covered in goosebumps just thinking about the night you two had shared and how scared you were for wanting more of it. Bottle it up and enjoy the moment, you told yourself in misery, scrunching your eyes shut and pinching your nose with the hand that had been absentmindedly stroking his dark blonde hair.

It was that withdrawal of your warmth that woken Frank up from the deepest sleep he’d had in the weeks since his breakup. Mornings had been the hardest for him because he’d gotten used to Bonnie’s dark curls draped across his pillow. It was harder still when Bonnie’s side of the bed no longer smelled of her. It was Mary’s logic that had pulled him out of the breakup stupor, but it hadn’t stopped Frank from falling into some old promiscuous habits. At least he’d thought he’d tapered off and found some routine in the monotony of distractions and the routine of a quick slip out. Now as his steely blue-gray eyes opened there was a brief moment of panic that followed that sleepy cling for the body he’d been holding.

Two months later and it all seemed too pleasant and rushed, too crazy to ruin. Yet you knew this was what it was, you making the most of the final moments and Frank getting over an ex. You knew it because you reminded yourself of that every time you caught yourself smiling over the little things because if you were really being honest with yourself it was two months of selfishness. Now, as you and Mary were making pancakes together while Frank laid out under the sink repairing the disposal, it was Mary that cornered the two of you. It happened with a bang- literally. “So, is this a grown up thing to not call each other boyfriend and girlfriend or are you two just being weirdos?”

The bag of flour slipped from your hands and clocked Frank right in his package causing his body to lurch forward and his head to hit every surface under the sink. As he groaned in pain, you tried to form the ‘right’ words, knowing that there weren’t any. “Oh, we’ve never been on an actual date…” Your words were slow, drawn out and delicate as you cautiously picked up the flour. Tapping his thigh with your foot you looked at the body of the man who’d given you a slice of happiness you didn’t expect to find in a bar and certainly didn’t feel like you deserved. “You okay down there?”

In usual form, he emerged covered in grease and grime, wiping his hands on a dingy old handkerchief that had been tucked in his pocket. He looked at you after wiping the sweat from his forehead onto his forearm and then over to Mary who stood akimbo. “Is this a setup?”

Mary crossed her arms, a stern look that you’d seen on Frank only a few times but found it completely recognizable and amusing. You pressed you lips into a line . “I didn’t think it needed to be.”

If you hadn’t been guilt stricken then you would’ve laughed at the tone of her voice bordering an abuelita waving a chancla. Instead, you watched him get up with his beautiful eyes watching you the whole way up. “Frank, you don’t have to say anything. I’m happy with this, just as it is.” You glanced at Mary, her arms still crossed, her expression wholly unconvinced. “I… I don’t want to be held responsible for anyone getting hurt.” The confused expression on Frank’s face was fleeting, maybe it wasn’t confusion or a twinge of hurt, but it made you try to rephrase yourself, trying to play it up in a sweet way and trying to convince him that this was about you- not him or Mary. “I can’t have anyone falling in love with me.”

The last thing you expected to hear was for Mary to snark out a defiant, “Too late for that.”

You told yourself you had to pick up your jaw, but you couldn’t because Frank was looking at you with that face he made when he woke up next to you… your favorite face. The crooked smile that was almost boyish and the crinkled eyes that you swore were just age and tiredness, but now you knew the truth, it was something else, something more. Your heart was racing, your mouth went dry and you tried to form the words of warning as your legs gave out beneath you and you collapsed into Frank’s arms.

Time was a funny thing, spinning in and out of consciousness you caught conversations and yet couldn’t recall which order they’d happened or where they were happening, nor could you discern how long the vast nothingness between those glimmers of consciousness seemed to be.

The first seemed obvious, sinking into your bones like the cancer that consumed you. The pain of Frank’s voice as he tried to throttle you awake. The timbre of his voice shifting from teasing amusement to legitimate worry. You could still feel his warm calloused hands on your cheeks followed by the cool droplets of water he’d splashed on you to try and wake you up. It worked just enough for you to say, “No doctors.”

Secrets seemed to unravel from there as you faded in and out, coming round to hear the beeping of machines or a man racked with heavy sobs. There was some relief in being a familiar face in this small town’s hospital. The familiar voice of your oncologist telling Frank that rules meant Frank couldn’t be told anything but that he could stay. Mary came and went, too. It was her small hands braiding your hair that woke you up on an early afternoon. The blinds were pulled wide open and your dry lips cracked as you smiled and tried to talk. “You look like an angel with all that snow behind you.”

Mary perked up at the sound of your voice and she leaned over your shoulder and rested her cheek against yours as she looked where you were. “It’s not real, it’s left over Christmas decorations. I wanted you to have a Winter Wonderland. It was so boring here. Hold on!”

You wondered if she’s had conversations with you while she’d waited for you to wake up or if you’d only been out a day or two because she seemed so unbothered by you forming your first words in what you would soon learn were three weeks. Mary pulled the blinds closed and climbed over a bench that had blankets and pillows folded on the end, a clear indication that Frank had been there with you for at least a night. When Mary emerged the room twinkled with fairy lights. “Wow, Mary! I love it so much.” You blinked away the fresh sting of tears. “Aren’t you a thoughtful angel.”

“I wanted it to be nice for you and Frank when you two picked up your last conversation.” A little wicked smirk drew across her lips and you waved her over to the bed and patted the blanket. Her smile fell just a little as she picked at the chipped nail polish on her fingers. “He told me not to look at the charts and the board or the machines, but I did and then I asked a teacher about what I found on Google and…” She let out a long, weary sigh. “I think you two still need to tell each other the truth.”

It seemed right, like you owed Frank an explanation, but the reality of the situation was that when you got your post-treatment update you’d not even uttered this truth to yourself. It was just something tucked in your head, a bomb, slowly ticking away. Frank walked in, purple bags of exhaustion around his eyes, and he still lit up the room with a smile the second he saw you were awake. His long legs took just a couple of steps and he was next to you on the hospital bed. Mary took the snacks from his hands and slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her and you had no doubt that she was already standing guard outside it. Wasting no time, you tried to apologize to him, “Frank, I want to say that I’m so-” Your heart ached with the regret of keeping this secret from him.

His lips crashed to yours before you could finish, absolutely no regard to the chalky taste of sleep on your mouth. When pulled away satisfied, Frank hushed you just millimeters from lips before going back in for another softer kiss- the familiar kind he’d taken to sneaking in when he walked past you from one room to the next. “Tell me the truth. Tell me it’ll be all right.”

This was exactly what you didn’t want, someone begging for you to give them what you knew you couldn’t. Your hands covered his as he desperately held your face and your eyes fell to his lips and the scruff along his jaw as you found yourself debilitated by his hopefulness. To say you were incapable of meeting those bright blue eyes without falling apart was an understatement. Your small fingers brushed across the familiar scars and calluses on his hands as you tried to think of the right thing to say. “I think we got our ‘all right’ already, Adler. I wish it could give you more, but I really stayed for you and Mary, so selfishly, for as long as I could.”

“I read the chart,” Frank swallowed, but you heard the tension tight in his throat as he tried to keep his voice even, “No one would tell me anything and I didn’t know what else to do just sitting here waiting for you to come back to me.” That sense of ownership surprised you, not because you didn’t want it, but because you’d been alone for so long… well before you got sick. As you cleared your throat to try and speak, he kept going. “You somehow made it longer than they thought, didn’t you? That’s why they were running so many tests, isn’t it?” Keeping your eyes from his, you didn’t need to look at him to know that Frank wasn’t necessarily asking you for answers. “Maybe that means you’re healthier than they realized and they could put you in a trial?”

“Frank, I’ve been right here the whole time.” Instead of focusing on the future, you focused on the present. Attempting to reassure him, you turned your cheek into his palm and placed a soft kiss there. This level of affection had been strictly reserved for sleepy mornings and movie nights, they’d become your favorite memories. “I felt everything, even heard you sometimes…” Resting your head into the curve of his neck, you ignored the painful tug of wires and tubes as he held you close. “I wanted to tell you, but I thought it would be over by now.” The ‘it’ wasn’t just the one night stand that had turned into feelings at about the same rate your cancer had come back, no you thought you would’ve passed on by now. The truth, it was what stuck in your head and kept you frozen there tucked in his arms, but he wanted more and you knew Frank deserved it. So, when Frank tugged gently on your shoulders and tilted your chin up, you mustered up the courage to not only speak but to meet his gaze. “A month, that was all I was supposed to get the night I tortured you with The Verve in our bar.”

To your surprise Frank listened without interrupting or asking a single question and it helped you explain yourself, why you never talked about this because, as you two crossed from strangers to friends, you knew he didn’t deserve the pain. Those secrets that were whispered about him around town that you had shut out were shared, with time, on his own. Frank had no idea that in those quiet back and forth exchanges that you had held in the one thing that would change everything. “You could’ve told me. I’m not mad… I just want to understand.”

The truth, the weight you carried in silence. The truth, it poured from you now, albeit unwillingly, and you hoped he wouldn’t carry it for you. Maybe a part of you knew he would because that’s what he always did. You’d never met another person so selfless. When you wondered if he understood, wondered if he knew just how stolen their time was, you bit into your lip and tried to explain it one more time. “I got lucky, but this is it, Adler. I was the walking definition of terminal lucidity and, God, I’m thankful I got my rally with you.” Just stringing along those words, the explanation, you were breathless. “I’m not walking out of this hospital.”

As you watched the painful reality set in, you also watched Frank’s jaw tighten. “If you really want to get out of here, if you don’t want to die in this room, will you do me one thing?” Confused, you nodded, feeling like you owed him but weary of what he’d ask. Frank smiled softly, only furthering your worry that he’d bring up a trial again. “I want you to come home with Mary and I.”

Hesitation laced his name as you shook your head ‘no’, repeating it over, “Frank, no. I can’t put that on you and Mary.” There wasn’t much space to pull away, your weak frame falling back onto the stiff mattress of the hospital bed.

“You already promised and I don’t think we have enough time for the kind of promises I would’ve liked to make.” Frank reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face, even in that moment looking somewhat mischievous.

“Oh yeah, and what were those plans?” You closed your eyes, tired and curious, but not wanting to look at him and be upset by the mutual stubbornness both of you bore.

“‘Til death do we part.” His warm breath hovered over your face and you scrunched your nose at his dark humor, but he wasn’t laughing. You opened your eyes to find him looking at you with an expression of impatience, “I mean it, come home and let me love you for whatever time we’ve got left.”

“Say it again.” You sighed, processing what he’d said and wondering if he’d meant it.

“Come home.”

Reaching out, you playfully nudged his shoulder. “No, the other bit.”

Looking into each other’s eyes, you wondered if the word had slipped from his lips by mistake, but that mischievous smile reached his eyes and Frank leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he said it one more time with confidence, “I love you.”

It wasn’t easy for the doctors, who knew you so well, to let you leave their care. Just like it wasn’t easy for you to give up your dwindling independence or to let Frank and Mary take care of you when you knew you’d brought death to their home. But nothing seemed to change with them, they forgave you for your secret and kept on with the silly breakfasts and morning cuddles; the popcorn at the home cinema nights. Mary kept you close, shared everything with you and listened to any story you were willing to tell. Frank held you together as you fell apart, carrying you from room to room so that you could still enjoy the silly things you’d been enjoying together all along. That was the only change, you becoming weak, fading from them. Neither of you became truth-spilling emotional lovers or bitter about the end. No, he wouldn’t leave you with that last memory. Instead, he put on some music and sat by your side, whispering a vow of love that was more than some overpriced ceremony and a piece of paper could provide. And when you were gone, you never really were. A person the world should have forgotten, tucked away and carried in two hearts long after you departed this world.

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All Content: @tom-hlover​​  @marvelouslytrekking​​  @rockyrogers​​

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[marvelousell]

You only

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female reader

Summary: Two different sides that Steve owns with his girl

Word count: 693

Warnings: SMUT 18+, spanking, chocking, dirty talk, unprotected sex

A/N: This is my entry for the Weekly Challenge that I was tagged in by the lovely @donutloverxo, thank you! I really enjoyed writing this one❤️.

Masterlist || Add yourself to my tag list

*

“Tired sweetheart?”

Steve was all about the aftercare. Gentle touches, making sure you were feeling good in his arms while he carefully stroked the red skin that was stinging from his previous actions. He loved to go rough with you, nothing like a good time with his girl that was begging to feel more of him.

“A little bit.” You murmured quietly, closing your eyes after you felt a finger ghosting over your flushed cheeks. The sound of the glass being placed on the nightstand and him shifting through the room was what kept you awake. Even though you didn’t see him you could feel the smug on his face. The smug that he wore proudly after he had his time with you.

The bites that turned purple, the red skin on your ass and the messy hair was a sight that got him hard again almost every time after he was finished with you. The images of you with your ass up and upper half pressed onto the mattress would always be in his head after he saw you all worn out sprawled on your bed.

“I can feel every inch of that sweet pussy of yours.” The statement that was followed with a loud groan escaping from his chest made you clench around him. You were feeling so full and every time you thought how he can’t give you more Steve made sure to surprise you.

“I love it when you moan from me I know that cunt is made for me only but I still love to hear that coming from your dirty little mouth.” You knew what he wanted, his hot breath fanned your sweaty skin making you shiver. Steve’s patience was usually limitless but with you in bed it was absolutely execrable, he just didn’t love disobedience and being ignored.

“I asked you a question didn’t I?” His movements were fast, his hand sneaked around your neck giving it a harsher squeeze as he brought you up from the sheets to his tense torso. His hips stopped moving, his dick pulsating against your tight walls waiting for you to speak up with your weak voice.

“Answer me.” The sudden contact of his palm slapping your already sensitive clit, made you clench around him. Big mistake indeed.

“It’s yours. Fuck this pussy i-is your Captain.” You barely chocked out while his mouth worked on your neck.

“Too late. Hope you will learn the lesson after your ass is all pretty and red with my hand marks all over it. Will you? I bet you will, especially after you won’t be able to sit like you used to for a week or more sweetie.”

“Was I too rough with you tonight?” He still didn’t leave your side, caressing the soft skin with his calloused fingers that travelled down to your bruises occasionally. Steve knew everything was fine, that you enjoyed it because if you were feeling any kind of discomfort you two had a strict rule to use the safe word. Say it anytime, no matter what we’re doing I’m stopping immediately. However he still wanted to make sure you were doing well after it.

“No, I enjoyed every moment.” You breathed out a chuckle, opening your eyes to see the figure that wasn’t moving away from you.

“Come here Captain.” The warm hand wrapping around his, guiding him to the empty spot put a smile on his face immediately. You were looking like the most beautiful painting, a true masterpiece that took his breath away every time he would lay his eyes on you.

“You’re so beautiful.” The way you kept the duvet so close to your chest, hiding from him like he didn’t saw your body every single day was something he adored as well as you being all shy with him. There was nothing like the feeling of your naked body wrapped around his while his touch was focused on your warm body.

“I’m glad that I can call you mine.” He mumbled lowly in your ear, pressing an innocent peck near your earlobe.

“And I’m glad that I’m the only one who can wreck you like this.”

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

A Second Chance?

One-shot

Description- Steve cannot forget Peggy and you become his second choice.

Warnings- Angsty Steve

This one-shot is for the exciting weekly challenge set by @donutloverxo and her friends! For this week, the fic is inspired by their moodboard below! Check out the challenge here

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Red. That was all that Steve saw when he entered the party. Red. Raw anger radiated from him like heat from an asphalt road on a hot summer day. Everyone at Tony's party looked at the angry Captain and gave him plenty of room, unwilling to bear the brunt of his temper. 

He slowly walked across the room, his eyes searching for your silhouette. Finally, he found you talking to Pepper on the balcony of the Avengers tower. You were wearing his favourite dress, the white one with lace on the top and a little bit of flare at the knees. You were your usual charming self, making Pepper smile with your innocence. Huh, Steve snorted, if only they knew how petty you could be. 

You looked at him as he stepped towards the balcony, feeling his presence. But, his expression made you stop. It was obvious he was furious, but why? As far as you knew, there were no new missions at the moment and the world was safe, at least for the time being. Apparently, Pepper noticed Steve's body language as well and slightly nodded when you excused yourself.

In the last year with Steve, you had gotten pretty good at handling his temperamental nature. In all the time you had shared with him, you had never seen Steve this furious. You followed him quietly into his apartment that you shared with him, and flinched when he closed the door with a BANG.

He glared at you from across the room, his nostrils flaring as if he could breathe fire. Fists clenched, he slowly started walking towards you. "How many times have I said that you will NEVER measure up to Peggy?" he spat.

"Al-almost everyday Steve," you stammered. Even after all these years, Peggy still claimed a special place in Steve's heart and he didn't miss any opportunity to bring it up. His words and his compass were a constant reminder that you would always hold a second place in his life. But you didn't mind though, because for you, Steve was the only one there could ever be.

"And how many times have I asked you to stay away from the compass?" he asked. "Many t-times Steve. W-what happened?" you asked, clearly nervous with Steve's demeanor.

"Why did I find my compass covered in red wine on the couch?" his voice dripping with anger. This was news to you as well. You had never touched the compass, knowing it would upset Steve. 

Shaking your head, you tried to reason with him, "Steve this is the f-first time I am hearing about this. I-I promise you I had n-nothing to do with this. Should we ask F.R.I.D.A.Y? M-maybe she caught something on tape?" 

"Do you honestly think I am that dumb?" Steve snapped as he stepped further, "Her tapes have been wiped clean. And only you have access to that, don't you? Ms. Head of Security?"

"Steve, please believe me, I did no such thing. Let's go to my office and we can figure this out," you pleaded with him. 

"YOU disgust me. I can't even look at you. Make sure your stuff is cleared out of my apartment by tonight," he stormed out after the command.

You couldn't just stand there and watch the love of your life just breakup with you. And so, you rushed out after him, hoping to knock some sense into his arrogant brain.

In an attempt to get away from you, Steve headed to the party, with you almost near his heels. 

"Steve," you called out to him, not wanting to create a scene, but he had already entered the party and was walking towards the bar near the pool. You almost sprinted to catch up to the man. When you finally did, you placed a small hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Steve please l-lis… ARGGHH!"

In an attempt to shake you off, Steve had pushed you. Now in his head, it was a light push, but for your petite body, the impact of the push threw you into the deep-end pool.

You fell with a loud splash. Panic gripped you as you kept sinking into the water, flailing your arms and legs around as you miserably tried to swim.

Almost instantly, you saw yourself being enveloped by a ball of red light, lifting you out of the water and onto the edge of the pool. 

As you coughed up water, someone covered you with a blanket and started rubbing your back. You looked up to see Bruce's reassuring face. 

"Good job Wanda," you heard, was it Clint? "Thank God this went better than the wine accident."

"Sshhhh," you guessed you heard Wanda shushing him.

"What do you mean by 'wine accident'?" Steve asked with authority. 

"Uhhh," Clint fumbled for words as Wanda looked guilty, "Wanda and I were practising her powers in the living room when, by mistake, she kinda spilled red wine on your compass. So yeah… But it was closed…"

Steve fumed at Wanda, and received a silent apology in return. 

You slowly stood up and started making your way towards the apartment, wanting to clear out your stuff before the night. You had never thought that Steve would get physical with you. All this time, you had patiently tolerated his temper, telling yourself that he led a hectic and violent life and that he probably needed an outlet to blow off his steam. But today he crossed a limit.

Steve saw you walking out, and stepped in your direction, hoping to follow you to the room. But he was stopped by Natasha, "Don't," she said sternly, "Let her go. She doesn't deserve to be treated this way."

…

It had been a year since that fateful day. You had quit your job at Stark Industries and moved out to California, where you were working with an international tech company. 

Everyday, without fail, you had received a red rose, with a single note - I am sorry, written in Steve's almost illegible handwriting. It didn't matter where you went, you always received a rose, which you dutifully gave to your old neighbour, always managing to make him smile his toothy smile.

Today, however, you received a small package with the rose. Without a second thought, you threw the package in the garbage bin on your way to work. But as you entered your office, you found the same package on your desk. Again you threw it into the dustbin, immersing yourself in your work. 

You reached home quite late, exhausted with day. As you entered your modest apartment, you found the package sitting on your living room table. Exhaling loudly, you picked it up and threw it out of the window. 

"It's not nice to throw away somebody's gift," Steve said quietly from behind her. 

"Yes but it is nice to throw your girlfriend into the swimming pool," you snorted, not surprised to see him there.

"I am sorry," he spoke with remorse, "I didn't mean to. You didn't deserve to be treated like that." "Wow, who managed to knock some sense into you?" you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster. 

He blocked your way, careful not to touch you as you were headed for your bedroom. "Just open this once," he said, revealing the real box from behind him. "No. I don't want to have anything to do with you," you said crossing your arms.

Sighing in defeat, Steve opened the box to reveal his compass. "I hope this shows you how serious I am about you, about us. Here, open it," he offered you the compass. 

"No," you again replied with defiance. 

He huffed as he pressed the button to open the compass. Now, instead of Peggy, it was your image that adorned the metal inside. You raised your eyebrow at him as he looked at you expectantly.

"Do you really think this will make up for everything you have done?" you asked him incredulously. "No, I know it won't," he hung his head shamefully, "but at least it's a start. I am sorry. I know I hurt you, but please give me a second chance. I…" he sighed, "I need you."

Stepping away from him, you headed for your bedroom, "I honestly need time to think about this Steve. You cannot just expect me to move on with you like nothing happened just because you are sorry."

Turning the doorknob to the room, you said with spite, "You let yourself in my house, you can see yourself out Captain," and with that, you entered the bedroom and closed your door.

[cheeseburgersstuff]

Professor Psycho

Professor Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Dark creepy Steve, kidnapping? (Shitty writing...🤠🙂)

A/N: my entry for the challenge by my lovelies @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @captain-a-rogerss @donutloverxo 💗💗💗 this challenge is the only thing that makes me want to write these days lol ☹😂😂

Master-list

Part 2

He smirked watching her enter the cafe where he saw her for the first time.

"Yes, don't worry mom I'll be fine" she sighed talking to her worried mother on the phone.

That's when he saw her, sitting with a frown covering her face. A girl from the countryside came to the city to chase her dreams, leaving a worried mother behind.

And now she was all ready to graduate. He saw her becoming a confident woman throughout those years.

It was so difficult for him to control himself all those years, seeing her walking in his class for the first time, paying her full attention to whatever he would be saying unlike some of his brat students.

He was always there watching her. Whether it's his class, library where she spent half of her time in or hanging out with a few of her friends. 

He was smitten by her but there she was completely unaware of her effect on him. 

But now there was nothing to hold back, she was free now. There was nothing between them, no student-professor barrier.

Just a few more days and then she would be his.

~

She turned hearing her name. He was standing there with a smile. 

"Professor Rogers" she returned the smile.

"Call me Steve now you are graduated. I'm no longer your professor doll." He said winking at her. His words only made her a bit uneasy but she ignored the feeling and forced a smile.

"Can we go drink a coffee or something?" He suddenly asked, making her shocked.

 "Professor … I don't think it's appropriate" she tried to reject his offer but he only scoffed.

"Not appropriate? You think I'm gonna slip you out of my fingers without a graduation treat huh? And besides, I already told you I'm no longer your professor so stop worrying." He joked and placed his hand on her waist, dragging her along with him.

To anyone, it would be a friendly gesture but she was feeling a bit uncomfortable with her professor's friendly behavior. 

They walked inside the café ordering their coffee. His smile was only increasing her anxiety.

The server came bringing their order. Y/n was busy thanking the server to notice what her professor was putting in her cup.

She didn't feel anything while drinking. He kept talking to her about her future plans even though they were about to get ruined by him.

She felt dizzy when they were walking back to her dorm. Her vision got blurred, at first, she tried to ignore it thinking it must be tiredness. But then her steps got unsteady.

"You okay?" Steve asked. She tried to reply but before she could reply her vision got blacked.

~

She woke up feeling her head throbbing with pain.

The last thing she remembered was walking with Steve. Then what happened to her, she didn't know.

80's jazz music playing in the background brought her out of thoughts.

She looked around to see the unfamiliar room. But the familiar smell there was telling her where she was.

Suddenly the door of the room opened.

"Oh, you woke up" Steve greeted the confused girl with a smile. She hated seeing him smiling as if everything was normal.

"What happened? Why I am here" 

Steve sat on the bed with her. "You fainted sweetheart. So I carry you here" 

His hand cupped her face lovingly which she instantly jerked off.

Steve frowned at her behavior. "I need to go now," she said and tried to get up. Steve grabbed her shoulders.

"You're not going anywhere," he said as if he was talking to a kid.

She should've gone with her instincts and rejected his offer.

She started to panic "please...please let me go" her breaths were getting shorter, tears started to leak out of her eyes.

"Hey look at me. It’s for your safety. You’ll see. Now breathe with me." 

She started to breathe with him.

When she got a bit normal he shook his head disappointedly. "You were such a good girl in the class, what happened now huh?" His stern expressions got softened seeing fear in her eyes.

"Hey, don't be afraid of me babe. I love you, I won't hurt you."

He cupped her face and kissed her forehead to calm her but she only cried more with the contact. 

"Please…" her pleading whispers weren't anything for him. He had made up his mind, she was his.

"If you keep repeating this I'll have to punish you, so stop with this pleading unless you want to be punished," he smirked. This all was funny for him but there her mind was exploding thinking about what he would do with her.

She never knew Professor Rogers, the man who inspired her the most would be this person. She wanted to slap that smug smile off of his face but she knew the consequences.

He got up from the bed, "I'm gonna bring something to eat for you, till then you better come to your senses and start to act like the good girl you are" he winked before locking her inside the room…..

[lost-in-sokovia]

Hot Boy Summer

hiiiii! i’m so freaking excited to write this! this is for a challenge started by a few of my friends @captain-a-rogerss @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho and @donutloverxo !! you should really check it out under #CaptainsWeeklyChallenge ! anyway, i hope you enjoy! (ps: not putting anyone’s requests on hold, i just wanted to make sure i got this done. all requests are still in the making!🤍)

Warnings: swearing, fluff, suggestive content but nothing bad or mature

Prompt: “You’re such a brat.”

One of your favorite pastimes with Meg was annoying her older cousin, Ransom.

Was it because you had a crush on him? Don’t judge, that’s rude. You and Meg were close and she regularly brought you home with her for family holidays. It always exhausted you to be around that chaotic family, and even though Ransom was a total babe and in reality annoyed the hell out of you, you never admitted it. Joni, Meg’s mother, always had the persona and mannerisms that conveyed was high. Always her long and dragged out “hello, (Y/N)” with the hug and asking about your chakras and horoscope or whatever. She got on your last nerve most of the time and Meg found that hilarious. You knew deep down Joni was a good person and wanted the best for her daughter, but my god could she run you up a wall.

Meg’s grandfather was a sweetheart, but the rest of that family was absolutely out of their goddamn minds. And though he was insane, Ransom was drop dead hot. You never quite minded his smartass remarks, his cold glares, or the fact he thought his family was an absolute joke. It all just kinda rolled out of your head when you’d see those captivating sky blue eyes and evil smirk.

Meg had first thought it was a joke when you confessed your crush on Ransom to her one long night at school. She’d laughed, but after looking at your nervous face she stared. “What the hell?” She had asked. Your face was a combination of paleness and being flushed. You shrugged shakily. “I don’t know... he’s hot, Meg!” She scoffed, flipping back her long brown hair. “He might be hot to you, but he’s a hot prick. Doesn’t being a prick kinda cancel out being hot?” She pointed out sternly. “You know I’ve got a thing for bad boys,” you mumbled sheepishly in defense. She laughed again. “(Y/N), this isn’t some movie where everyone wants to date the hot villain. Do not date the hot villain in this situation!” She yelled. You gave her a sad glare before standing up and falling face first onto your dorm bed.

Now you weren’t dating him yet, but you sure as hell were next to him any chance you got. At first he thought it was funny, one of Meg’s college friends having a cute crush on him. But as time progressed and you became more in his way and more obnoxious to him, it made his blood boil.

It was the end of exams and summer was finally here. You were staying with Meg all summer and thrilled you were going to have opportunities to see Ransom. As you got more and more anxious the days leading up, Meg had made you promise you weren’t going to get so attached to Ransom or even forget you were there with her, and you agreed. You’d packed all your clothes (making sure to pack that one bikini that always got attention) and belongings and were on a plane to Massachusetts in no time.

When you’d arrived at Harlan’s, you were greeted with a big hug from Joni. “(Y/N), how are you sweetie?” She asked with a light tap on the back. You forced a laugh and smiled awkwardly. “I’m great Joni, h-how are you? How’s Flam?” you asked in an effort to move the topic off you as your patience lowered every time she opened her mouth. She smiled with accomplishment as she opened her mouth. “Oh you know, it reached two million followers yesterday on Insta, no biggie.” She was obviously fishing for compliments.

“Well congrats, that’s amazing,” you nodded with gritted teeth. She waved a hand and rolled her eyes slightly. “Did you get that moisturizer I sent you?” She asked. You looked over at Meg with eyes wide with annoyance and she quickly came up to help. “Yeah mom she really enjoyed it... We’re going to go get settled,” Meg explained quickly as you gave a small wave before following her.

You exhaled heavily as Meg led you up to her room. She scoffed in amusement. “Ready for a whole summer of Joni Thrombey?” She asked. You laughed under your breath and shook your head with wide eyes. “Mm, maybe Joni could just hook me up with her nephew instead...” you replied suggestively. Meg rolled her eyes and sighed. “(Y/N), he thinks you’re one of the most annoying people to have ever walked the planet, mostly because you’re friends with me. But still I don’t see your chances getting higher with that asshole,” she said. You frowned, unzipping one of your suitcases.

“Okay but I brought that one really sexy bikini I have and I’m not going to get a wedgie for nothing so he better at least say I’m not the most annoying or I look hot or something,” you huffed. Meg laughed, picking up the swimsuit and tossing it at your face.

~•~•~•~•~

Though the first day was uneventful, full of unpacking, saying your hellos and greeting everyone, calling to update your parents, eating, and sleeping, the next day was when the real fun began.

Harlan had decided it would be “nice” to get the family together since all the kids were now off school. You had raved to Meg how excited you were to see Ransom and try to prove you were a grown college woman and totally girlfriend (or wife, but baby steps right?) material. She groaned when she heard the news and hit her head against a wall.

“What? It’ll be so fun!” You tried to reason as Meg glared in the mirror while applying her makeup. She put product in her wavy brown hair and sighed. “Yeah it’ll be fun for you. You happen to forget that Ransom is just one member of this family, this very chaotic and hell raising family,” she bit. You scoffed and slipped a crop top on. “You’re just jealous because I might get a boyfriend.” You stuck your tongue out.

Meg was just about to argue back when you heard the front door downstairs being opened with muffled greetings. You sprinted over to your closed door and concentrated hard for any sign of the name “Ransom.” You pressed your ear hard against the door and your eyes lit up as you finally heard the name you’d been waiting for. Your heart rate picked up and you looked back to Meg, who was applying mascara unenthusiastically.

“You’re going to annoy the shit out of him,” she warned quietly. You glared. “No I’m not... I swear I’m mature. Mature enough to be attractive though, not like some stuck up old librarian lady or something,” you explained nervously. Meg laughed. “This is coming from the girl who still sleeps with a nightlight,” she retorted. You flipped her off with a fake smile before slipping out the door.

You ran down the long flights of stairs (nearly knocking into poor Fran, who was just trying to escape Ransom) and breathed quickly. You nearly tripped down the last few steps and cursed under your breath before catching up with a particular tall, dark haired man. You slipped in front of him and smiled smugly at him.

“Hey Ransom,” you greeted as chill as possible. He was more beautiful than you remembered (even though you had just seen him at Christmas); his hair was cut a little shorter, he wasn’t hiding under cable knit sweaters or long overcoats, and his blue eyes caught the sunlight. When he saw you his mouth parted and he stared with furrowed eyebrows for a moment. His head then tilted back as he groaned loudly.

“Meg!” He yelled. “Come get your dumb friend out of my way!” You blinked a couple times before leaning against the knight’s armour in the hallway. “No look Ransom, I’m just here to chill with Meg all summer. It’s not a huge deal. It’s totally fine, you’ll have no trouble from me,” you offered. He raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Yeah that’s what you told me at Christmas, then you tried to kiss me under the mistletoe,” he retorted with a bitter laugh. You cringed; yeah, you had hit the holly jollies a little too much that night. You cleared your throat and began to trail Ransom as he began to walk away from you.

“Well lucky for you there’s no mistletoe in the summer,” you replied sarcastically. “Yeah, but there’s still you,” Ransom bit back in mock sarcasm. You halted to a stop and gaped at him as he continued to walk off. Damn, he really came for you.

As you stared, Harlan had appeared behind you and greeted you with a pat on the back. “So, have you said your hellos to Ransom?” He asked. You nodded, your eyes still focused down the hall. “Mhm,” you hummed back. He chuckled lightly before walking off slowly, and you scoffed as Ransom’s remark echoed in your head.

Not a big deal; a big girl like you could handle Ransom’s snarky remarks, right?

~•~•~•~

After plenty of lame and useless attempts at trying to get Ransom’s attention just through basic human interaction, you’d decided it was time to put that bikini to use.

Who knew there was easy access to a pool out where Harlan lived? You thanked your lucky stars that the white suit wouldn’t just be taking up space in your suitcase. Sure, most of the Thrombeys were now gathered and would probably be there as well, but you get what you get right? You slipped it on in the bathroom connected to Meg’s room and sighed, already pulling the bottoms out of all the uncomfortable places it didn’t belong. You looked at yourself in the mirror and raised your eyebrows. Wow, dressing for a man and not yourself; you never thought you would stoop so low for a crush.

You opened the door and met Meg with her emerald green bikini as she whistled and looked you up and down. “Damn sis! All this for my asshole older cousin?” She asked as you rolled your eyes. “I know, I was thinking the same thing,” you mumbled back. She grinned sarcastically as she grabbed the sunglasses from her dresser. “Yeah, it’s a good thing you’re not obsessed with him or anything, that would be weird,” she commented with heavy sarcasm. You laughed monotonely and threw a small bottle of sunscreen at her arm.

“Whatever, let’s get going. I wanna get out of this suit asap,” you mumbled before opening the door. Meg followed you out and snorted from behind. “(Y/N) it’s already riding up your ass,” She commented. Your face felt hot (from both embarrassment and how annoying Meg was being) and you spit out the first argument that came to mind: “Well maybe I want it there, Meg.”

You trotted through the full house and outside and plopped onto one of the long, clothed chairs perfect for tanning. Ransom was over in a shaded corner reading from a Playboy magazine (to which you thought why was he looking at pictures of women in bikinis when there was one right in front of him?) through dark sunglasses. His hair was combed back with no gel or product in it and he wore dark blue swimming trunks with no shirt. Jacob was in the shadows behind him with his eyes glued to his phone screen, the damn kid. You however couldn’t help but stare for a moment at Ransom’s abs as you blinked and took a deep breath. You laid your head back down and closed your eyes for a moment as you let the sun warm your entire body. “Damn Ransom,” you muttered bitterly.

“Alright this place better not turn into some splash pad for three year olds now that you’re here,” Ransom announced. You opened your eyes and looked back over, his eyes still glued to the magazine. You scoffed loudly in exaggeration as Meg shook her head in astonishment at you. “Please Ransom, we’re just out here to do the same exact thing as you; chill,” you called back. Joni who was drinking champagne in the hottub glanced over briefly. “Meg! (Y/N)! Looking totally adorable girls! Love the self love!” She complimented as hip as she could get.

“Yeah thanks mom,” Meg called back i enthusiastically. Ransom rolled his eyes and looked up to see what the fuss was about and was dumbstruck when he did.

God, did you have to look so hot in that swimsuit? Your skin glowed in the sun as your crossed one leg over the other. That swimsuit was very small... His eyes traveled from your legs to your bare stomach up to- no, no. He looked back down and exhaled loudly. No, think about how annoying you are. He wasn’t going to stare at you. No... He felt awkward. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Ransom never thought he’d feel something towards you. It was weird, he questioned his standards and tried to take his mind off you. This was really conflicting and he’d never thought so much into a hot girl- no he wasn’t going to call you hot.

While Ransom sat in the corner and tried to handle his frustration, you layed in the sun and pitied yourself. You basically tried everything. If Ransom wasn’t going to pay attention to you in this, there was no hope. You frowned and stretched your arms and legs before crossing them again.

You glanced over at Ransom, who’s eyes you’d found staring at you. (He couldn’t do it. He looked back at you, sprawled out on the chair. Screw his reputation, he wasn’t going to pass this up.) You blinked a few times before raising an eyebrow. “Like what you see, Ransom?” You asked suggestively. He scoffed in astonishment and shook his head. “You’re such a brat,” he mumbled. You smiled wickedly and sat up. Meg looked over and tried to grab your arm. “(Y/N), where are you going?” She asked. You looked back as you made your way to the pool. “Just going for a swim because I’m getting a little hot in the sun,” you explained casually.

Ransom shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “Really, (Y/N)? This is what we’re gonna play?” He asked somewhat aggressively. You looked over and shrugged innocently. “What are we playing, Ransom? Can’t a girl get in the pool if she needs to be cooled off?” You lowered your sunglasses for a moment and winked. He glared with a mouth opened in shock; since when did you start acting like this? Where was Meg’s college friend who had a cute little crush on him?

You were milking the hell out of this. You enjoyed feeling somewhat in control over Ransom. His frustration amused you, and you were pretty sure he’d pop at any second.

You stepped into the cool water and shivered slightly. You slowly continued to submerge your body and looked back over at your target. He held his head with his fingers against his temple, his mouth slightly parted. You grinned smugly before placing your glasses to the side and going completely under the crystal clear water.

Jacob looked up briefly from his phone and laughed viciously. “Seriously, Ransom?” Ransom turned around and held a finger close to his face. “One more comment out of you and that goddamn phone finds a new home at the bottom of that pool,” he snarled. Jacob rolled his eyes before looking back down while Ransom whipped back around.

You hair was now wet and water drops speckled your chest and arms. Ransom groaned and threw his magazine on the ground before standing up. You glanced over and did your best to hold back laughter from the scene Ransom was causing. He began to quickly walk towards you and you full on laughed.

“Ransom don’t get your britches in a bunch,” Meg commented from her chair. She’d given up; you were a lost cause. You were under the spell of her disgusting older cousin and all she could do was sit back and watch the curse take its course.

You waited for Ransom at the edge of the underground pool and put your arms on the warm concrete. He kneeled in front of you and you raised an eyebrow. The sun reflected off the water and Ransom tried his best to keep his eyes on you through his dark sunglasses. “You think this is funny?” He bit. You shrugged. “Little bit. I’m only having fun if you are though,” you replied smoothly. “Trying to make me look like a perv? You knew exactly what you were doing when you put that goddamn bikini on. A little small (Y/N), don’t you think?” He whispered harshly. You stared at his angry expression before glancing around at the oblivious grownups in the yard.

“Glad your family isn’t paying attention, huh?” You remarked. He growled lowly and you smiled. “Come on Ransom,” you urged plainly. “You know you want to.” Ransom raised an eyebrow. “Do what?” He hissed. You puckered your lips for a brief second and winked teasingly. He laughed bitterly.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled before putting his index finger under your chin and pulling you into a rough kiss. You shifted your weight onto your arms and pushed yourself up higher and further into the kiss.

Your stomach twisted and turned and you felt like screaming in victory.

He pulled away and glared in defeat as you smirked. “Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” You cooed. He sighed. “You’re a real bitch, you know?” He asked. You hummed amusingly. “Yeah Meg would know a lot about that.”

haaaaaa i hope you enjoyed! i loved writing this and i hope you enjoyed! (and of course thanks to my girl @lookalivefrosty for getting me through a rough spot where i didn’t know wtf to do😂)

[lilbabycee]

an hour ago // steve rogers 🥀

↳ summary: steve makes some plans for you that you don’t know about.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x reader

↳ word count: 2.4k

↳ warnings: mentions of blood (nothing too graphic), gaslighting, some angst, and some hurt without the comfort

↳ author’s note: hey! i wrote this for the weekly challenge by @captain-a-rogerss​ @donutloverxo​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ based on the moodboard below - enjoy! ❤️

It was a pretty dress - a lace bodice held up by thin straps, flaring out at the waist into clouds of white tulle that swish around your body like waves and gently brush the smooth skin of your thighs a few inches above your knees. He liked the way that your face brightened when you’d pulled those shoes that you’d had your eye on earlier that week out of the black box that he gave you. You liked it, too - saw your beaming face in a mirror and couldn’t believe that you were the same person staring back at yourself. The shine of your skin was all because of the man standing behind you, arms coiled around your middle and chin resting on your shoulder, the thick hair of a dark blonde beard tickling the sensitive skin of the bare column of your neck. Even though you squirmed in his arms as if you wanted him to let you go, you didn’t - not by any stretch of the imagination. He met your gaze in the mirror and as much as your subconscious tried to fight it, a wide grin split your face in half. 

He likes it when you smile like that - when you aren’t scared of laughing too loud or loving too hard, completely unabashed in your actions because you aren’t worried about what other people think. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your face when you’d slipped into those heels as if they’d always belonged on your feet and walked around with the poise of a woman who was born to wear clothes like these. He’d escorted you down the stairs with your hand in the crook of his elbow and a proud smile on his face that made the bees in your stomach come alive, basking in the attention and slamming against the sides of your body excitedly. You looked but more importantly felt like a princess.

That was at the beginning of the night. 

Now, you’re running, the gusts of wind cracking whips against your wet cheeks and stirring the torn skirt of your dress every which way as the city that never sleeps stares at you from below. The winking lights of the buildings full of people who don’t want to go home glare at you almost mockingly as your bare feet slap against the cold tile. The way that you wind through the foggy paths of confusion distorting the rational thought in your brain is not dissimilar to the way you dodge and weave through the clusters of people in your way, frantic apologies spilling from your lips out of courtesy when you step on a toe or spill a drink. 

Spill a drink - you look down only to be reminded of the ruby-red Cabernet Sauvignon that tarnishes the once-beautiful dress on your body, a color that reminds you so acutely of your own blood that you have to look away, feeling the acidic tang of bile rise in your throat. You can almost smell the pungent odor of copper, certain that you must be imagining it until your eyes zero in your hands - more importantly, the rivulets of red that stream down the fingers of your right hand that is clutching your dress. 

You’d dropped your glass when you’d found out what he’d planned - shattered it, really, but that distinction wasn’t important when you first broke it, nor is it important now. The tiny shards of glass stuck in your skin are no longer the primary source of your pain; rather, that comes from the way that your heart fell out of your body and exploded right there on the floor between the both of you. You’d left the fragmented pieces where you were standing right before you ran away, not even attempting to salvage any of the broken parts before you took off. That coupled with the weight of the heavy ring on your left hand, your chest feels as if it’s caving in on itself. 

You’re getting looks now, low whispers ripple through the well-dressed people who’ve all come here just for you. They try to point discreetly, raised eyebrows and bewildered glares following you as you continue to sprint away from the flocks of party-goers. Running away won’t solve anything, but when he put that ring on your finger you knew you weren’t ready - far from it. So yes, you’re delaying the inevitable but that’ll have to be good enough for now because you’re not at all ready to face your boyfriend.

And then the perfect opportunity arises. You round a corner so quickly that you almost sprain an ankle, only to stop short when you see what’s in front of you. Not only is the area around it completely free of people, but the pool is also fully empty. With a cursory glance over each shoulder, you decide that it’s your best option - stay in there for as long as possible because if someone merely looks out in this direction, they’ll assume that no one is here. You know he’ll find you eventually but you’re panicking, your anxiety bubbling up over the low flame of the anger that festers deep within your body.

So you dive in as gracefully as you can considering your attire but in your haste, it’s only when your hands break the surface of the water that you remember that they are still covered in blood. The thought is left up in the air as soon as your head is underwater. Opening your eyes as best as you can in the chlorinated abyss, you see a darker corner of the pool right across from you where the light doesn’t reach and push yourself towards it, hoping that it’ll conceal you for the time being.

Once you get there, you risk coming back up to take a breath, pushing the water out of your eyes only to scream when your vision is less blurry. A shadowy figure is crouched right in front of you, weight on his toes and elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped together. Droplets of water roll down your skin and your dress hangs heavy on your body: you’re definitely soaking wet but underneath Steve’s hot gaze, it might as well have been the contrary - the fire burning through his eyes would be more than enough to dry you off.

Your eyes roam his form slowly as you swallow down gulps of air, noticing how not a single strand of his long, slicked-back hair is out of place. His black three-piece suit might as well have been taken straight off of the rack, black tie straight and jacket unwrinkled, and his beard looks as soft as it was when you ran your fingers through it an hour ago. 

The sole indication of his ire is the clench of his jaw, that telltale muscle ticking rhythmically like the hands of the clock on the timer of his patience. 

The left side of his face is shrouded in shadows, but it does nothing to hide the curve of his full lips, a smile that feeds the anger in the pit of your stomach. If you had been asked three days ago - hell, an hour ago - how that smile made you feel, you’d have said that it was the smile of the man who hung the stars in your sky, the man who would steal the moon for you if you asked. 

But that was then. And this is now.

“Found you, sweetheart,” he rumbles, his words fueling his smirk and causing it to spread into a full-blown grin. You’re paralyzed in shock, thinking that you would’ve had more time to mull over your predicament. This doesn’t hinder him; he repositions himself to kneel, giving him more leverage to grasp you underneath the arms and pull you out of the water. You don’t even have it in you to object as he hauls you away from the pool, your fighting spirit exhausted and cold in the crisp night air. You pull your arms into your chest to try and stave off the biting wind as Steve carries you bridal style - you want to laugh at the irony - towards the nearest sofa.

Setting you on his lap - wet dress, be damned - his blue eyes examine your face which you just know is a mess. The makeup that you had so flawlessly applied is more than likely to be streaming down your face, but you don’t care because you’re staring right back at the man you thought you knew with a gaze emptier than the hole in your heart.

“Lemme see your hand, baby,” he murmurs and you acquiesce, handing it to him while your gaze focuses in on the single red rose tucked in the pocket of his jacket. It’s beautiful, to put it simply. It’s so soft, drops of water pooling in between the maze of its petals and caressing it as it trails down the thornless stem. You’d know - you were holding that rose approximately thirty minutes ago as your bridal bouquet.

Steve curses quietly as he turns your hand back and forth in his, the light catching against the shards of glass embedded in your fingers and your palm. His eyes snap to yours and you can feel the reprimand on his tongue before he even opens his mouth, but you have no voice left to stop him so you shake your head instead. Thankfully, he does as he’s told and keeps it to himself. His body is emitting heat in rolling waves and you can feel it seep into your skin, a brief shudder running through you as it does. You instinctively lean into it, momentarily forgetting about his deception. His arm drapes over your body, and he can feel his heart swell at how much you still need him.

The silence stretches between you two for a few minutes longer, your eyes stinging, the harbinger for your tears, until Steve clears his throat quietly. 

“You ran away from me,” he states and without even looking at him, you know that he’s staring at you because the weight of his gaze is almost as crippling as the ring that weighs down your whole body. 

“I did,” you reply simply, running your tongue over your lips. 

“I thought you loved me,” he says softly which makes you so desperately want to roll your eyes. 

“I do,” you speak slowly, unsure whether or not you even believe the words coming out of your own mouth. You know that it’s easier this way, telling him what he needs to hear to placate him. But he’s still perplexed - you can tell because his eyes are the same teal as the swimming pool. 

“No,” he protests, hand coming to grip your waist in a way that sends brief shockwaves of pain across your body. You draw in a gasp between clenched teeth, and your own hands fly up to claw at his arms. “If you loved me, then you’d have wanted to marry me-”

“I do want to marry you,” you try to declare firmly, but you find it increasingly difficult when he keeps holding you tighter and tighter; you know he doesn’t mean to. It doesn’t hurt anymore - the aching in your chest overpowers any other sensation - but it’s more uncomfortable than anything. He’s pulled you so far into his chest that if you were an inch closer, you’d only become another part of his body. You’re still digging your nails into his forearm. “Just not like this.”

“Why not?” he pipes up, his tone deep though whiny. This makes you laugh (inside your head) - he’s almost a breath away from stomping his foot like a petulant child. Instead, his hands press harder into your sides, pushing against your head so that it rests right over his beating heart. His beard brushes against your forehead and where that sensation was pleasurable earlier, in this moment you want to run as far away as possible.

“Because we weren’t even engaged before tonight-”

“But why does that matter? We’ve talked about it - you knew this was going to happen someday-”

“That’s not an excuse, Steve,” you exclaim indignantly. Even though you’re looking right at him, you do not recognize the man holding you so close to him in the slightest. You’ve never heard of anybody’s boyfriend planning them a surprise wedding without even proposing beforehand, but you were under the impression that if you were to hear a story as outrageous as that, it wouldn’t be your life.

It’s hard to believe how wrong you were. 

He looks as if he’s about to speak before he shuts his mouth, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly. “Okay, honey, okay. You’re right. Not tonight. You’re all worked up and I get it - you need time.”

Now this is the Steve you know. The heaviness that lies in the way he looks at you eases up considerably and you’re relieved that he’s finally making sense. You move to pull the ring off of your finger before he quickly places a hand over yours. Lifting your head in confusion, he looks at you with alarm etched into every feature on his face. 

“Baby,” he laughs, breathless and surprised. “Just because we’re not getting married tonight doesn’t mean that it won’t happen at all. I’ll give you the rest of the night to clear your head but tomorrow is another day. All of these people are in town until the end of the week and I’d hate to have invited them here for no reason. We’ve got plenty of time for you to think about it.”

You open your mouth to reply but he silences you with a kiss, short but passionate. His lips move against yours with pressure and urgency never before seen from the Steve who you love. You’re not sure who this man is. When he pulls away, he presses a kiss on your forehead and pulls your face into his chest so that any words that you try to speak are inaudible. 

“Shhh, doll,” he hushes you, massaging circles into your spine, and your skin crawls when you hear the glee in the tone of his voice. “We’ll get you a new dress and try again tomorrow.”

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

It’s OK (Part II)

Summary: Chris comes back from a work trip and he founds you really sick. He does everything in his power to make you feel better

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Sickness, vomiting, fever, fainting, worried Chris

Word Count:  2,284

This is the continuation of  “It’s OK (Part I)” of the Week 5 Weekly Challenge of @donutloverxo @captain-a-rogerss @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

A/N: This was kind of proof-read so if there’s any mistake, please let me know, English is not my mother tongue, and I’m still learning. Enjoy the reading!

*Chris’ POV* 

Y/N was running a fever of 104°, she had fainted twice and she hasn’t eaten anything since Wednesday. He’s never seen her in this state, so sick, so vulnerable. He was worried and she probably could tell, he was lost in thought figuring out how to help her. He was pressing the wet cloth on her forehead, caressing her cheek when he realized he had to run a cold bath to break it.

-Try not to fall asleep doll. I’ll get the bathroom ready –he says making Y/N to open her eyes

Y/N tries to nod but she has to throw the blankets to the floor and sprints to the bathroom to empty her stomach; he rushed behind her putting one of his hands on her back making long traces over it and his other hand on her hair to have it out of the way.

-It’s ok baby, let it out. Everything is going to be fine –he says comforting her

Once she finishes, she falls back on top of his chest, exhausted.  She could barely stay awake, he needed to do something and fast. He laid her on the floor and quickly he started to prepare the bathroom. With everything set up, he undressed himself first; she didn’t have the energy enough to be on her own, he needed to be with her, and then he removed your clothes from your body. Your body was shivering and really sticky, he lifted you from the floor, put your face against his chest and then he enters the bathtub. He has to be sure that Y/N’s body is fully submerged into the water; he needs to break this fever, even if it that means being there all night long.

-Baby, I’m cold –Y/N says

-I know baby, but we have to do it –he says caressing her cheek –just a few more minutes

Chris held Y/N for a few more minutes when he felt that she was relaxed and not shivering anymore

-Baby, are you awake?

-Hm?

-I’m going to sit you so I can grab a few towels to dry us, ok?

Y/N nodded, she could barely keep herself awake.  Chris grabbed a towel and put it around his hip, and then he grabbed another for Y/N. He emptied the bath tub and put the towel around Y/N’s body and lifted her bridal style. He felt her body was lifeless; clearly she was exhausted because of the fever. He laid her on the bed and went to the closet to grab some clothes for them. Chris got back already changed and with some clothes for Y/N.

-Y/N, baby, I know you want to sleep, but I need you to try so hard to stay sit so I can dry you and put you some clothes on, ok?

Y/N nodded but she didn’t answer

-Answer me baby, please

-I’ll try –Y/N says with a hoarse voice

Chris helped Y/N to sit and kissed her forehead. He could feel her forehead hot but it wasn’t burning up like it was before. He put first the t-shirt and then her underwear and the shorts

-Baby, can you stand up so I can put this on correctly? –Chris asked Y/N and as she tried to stand up she had to grab herself from Chris’ shoulder to keep her balance. Once she was dressed, Chris took of the towel around her head to dry her hair when she almost fainted again

-Whoa, hun, are you dizzy? –He was starting to get more worried

-Not much

-Let’s sit you in the bed, ok? –Chris said sitting her in the bed and he sitting behind her.

With her hair damp, Chris tucked Y/N in bed checking her temperature again.

- Your temp is at 101,3°. Try to rest and I’ll wake you up with some soup –he said to Y/N but she was already asleep. He kissed her forehead one more time; he grabbed the tray and left the room to let her rest.

After leaving the things in the kitchen, he decided to send a text to her mom, he was worried and he wasn’t sure what was the best thing to do in that moment.

Hi mom! How are you? I arrived a few hours ago and I’m with Y/N. Chris

Chris put his phone aside and started to gather all the stuff that were on the living; mostly were all copies from Y/N’s school. He knew she was behind a few classes and he did everything he could to help her, but it seemed impossible. He was distracted reading the last essay Y/N did when her phoned pinged

Hi Chris! I’m glad you are already at home. We are all okay, missing you guys. How is Y/N? We haven’t talked much; she’s being really busy these past few weeks. When are you coming to visit? Lisa

Chris thought that maybe it was better to call her, but he knew that she was going to come over, he knew her mum really well, and right now he wanted to keep the house quiet and with no one else except him.

Yeah, probably soon, now that I’m back is going to be easier. Y/N has been trying to keep up with her delayed work from school but seems impossible. Mom, Y/N is sick. I found her running a high fever; I gave her a bath and I was able to break it, but I don’t know if I should take her to emergency. What can I do? Chris

Probably his mom was going to call him, but instead she answered it back.

Oh, how bad is it now? If it just a fever, try to keep her warm, that’s going to help, give her ibuprofen every 6 or 8 hours and lots of fluids. But if there is something else, you should consider taking her to the ER. Has she been eating well? Lisa

Chris didn’t know what to do. He hesitated on telling her mom the truth. He gave it a thought on what tell her exactly, and went to the kitchen to prepare a soup for them.

She thinks that the last time she eat something was on Wednesday. I found a cup of tea and a few crackers when I arrived today; she even mentioned she wasn’t feeling well. She has been stressed, so probably is that. It’s an exaggerated reaction to take her to the hospital? I took her fever around half an hour ago and it was 101,3°. Chris

Chris left the soup cooking and went quickly to their shared room to check on Y/N. She was fast asleep, more relaxed. She wasn’t shivering so the fever didn’t spike up, to make sure he was correct, he touched her forehead and it was slightly hot. He sighed relieved; he was able to relax a little since he found her in the bathroom floor. He went back to the kitchen to finish cooking the soup and keep the talk with her mom.

Try to get down that fever, it’s not high but still it can spike up again. Make sure to give her some food and fluids, maybe some juice or something sweet, she is probably dehydrated. It’s not an exaggeration son, you’re being precautious, if you think it’s necessary or you want to make sure she is well, you can take her. Whatever you decided kid, please let me know. Do you want me to go and help you with Y/N? Lisa

The last text his mother sent made him thought seriously the option of taking Y/N to the emergency, she fainted twice and almost again when he was changing her. He decided to wait a little and see; first he was going to try with the soup and the juice, and depending on how that go he was going to decide.

Ok mom; thanks. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know. Love you. Chris

He answered to his mom a little worried; he was going to try first and then see how to continue. He grabbed to bowls and poured the soup, his mother’s favorite recipe, two glasses, one with water and the other with juice and some ibuprofen. He put everything on a tray and went to their shared room. He found Y/N in the same way he left you before, she was fast asleep; Chris felt bad to wake her up, but she needed to eat something.

-Y/N, baby, wake up –Chris shook Y/N from the shoulders

-What? –she murmured

-I brought you soup, you have to eat. Come on, I’ll help you

Y/N didn’t have any strength to push herself into a sitting position so Chris had to help her. It broke his heart seeing her so weak

-Let me help you

-Your food is going to get cold –Y/N said not wanting to get feed up by Chris

-I don’t care, I’ll heat it up later and I’ll eat it while you rest.

Chris helped Y/N with her soup; when she ate almost half of the bowl, she stopped eating and Chris was relieved.

-Stay a little longer in that position, it will help with your food. Let me know if you feel nauseous

Y/N just nodded. She was starting to fall asleep again. Chris made sure she was in a comfortable position, and then he checked her temperature again. It was in 100,4°; that meant the medication was working.

Once he made sure that Y/N wasn’t going to throw up, he removed the pillows from her back and laid her again so she could rest. He went to the kitchen to heat up his soup and then eat in the bedroom to keep an eye on her.

It was Sunday morning when Chris woke up and noticed that Y/N was crying and shaking. He had to woke her up, he got scared.

-Y/N! Wake up!

He shook her but he couldn’t wake her. He held her and started to telling her sweet things to her ear

-Baby, it’s ok! Everything is going to be fine. Don’t worry, I’ve got you

Y/N opened her eyes, she realized that Chris was holding her and she let go the tears, she was sobbing. Chris noticed that she was having a nightmare, probably it was from the fever, he could feel her body was hot and the hair stick to her forehead because of the sweating.

When Y/N calmed down, he hand her a water bottle and a hard candy; he took that moment to take her temperature again.  It was spiking up again

-How are you feeling?

-My body is sore, I’m cold and my head hurts

-Well, your fever spiked up again

-How high?

-Well, now is in 102,2° -he hand her some ibuprofen and more water –How is your stomach?

-Better, but I’m still weird though

-It’s ok. In a couple of hours I will give you more ibuprofen, and if it still high I’ll take you to the emergency –he warned her

-Ok love, thank you

Chris didn’t say anything; he just kissed her forehead and wrapped her in a hug. He knew that she could still get worse, but in that moment, the love he felt for her was everything. It was the first time that he was able to take care of her, she never led him to see her in such a vulnerable state, but for him, it meant everything, it meant that she really trusted him.

It was almost noon when Y/N woke up and went to the living room looking for Chris. Luckily her fever got low, and her stomach got better. Chris made sure to keep a water bottle next to her to keep her hydrated. During that morning while Y/N was sleeping, he called to her mom to give her an update about Y/N, and texted her sister to let her know that he was going to pick Dodger up that afternoon

-Hey baby –Chris said when he saw that Y/N was awake –feeling better?

-Yeah, not perfect, but yeah, I’m better. What are you doing?

-I was talking with my sister; I have to go to get Dodger

-When do you have to go? –Y/N asked sitting on his lap

-After you eat lunch and go back to bed to get more rest. You are not fully healed, and you still have fever –he said touching her forehead

-I’m going to shower and then I’ll go back to bed

-Good. I’ll start cooking lunch –He said kissing her forehead

Y/N went to the bathroom for her shower. Chris took this opportunity to replace the bed sheets, put a new water bottle on the night stand, and he left her another t-shirt of his with a pair of her shorts and some underwear, and took everything to the laundry room; then he went to the kitchen and started to prepare their lunch.

After lunch, Y/N decided to take a nap, she was still tired, her body was starting to recover but still she needed to rest. Chris went to her sister’s and brought Dodger with him back to Y/N’s place.

Y/N woke up with Chris and Dodger next to her on the bed. She was feeling a lot better than the day before, Chris could see it on her face.

-What? –Chris asked her confused

-Nothing. Just… -Y/N stopped talking, and started to rub Dodger behind his ears

-What is it love? –Chris was worried again

-Thank you –Y/N sighed –for taking care of me

-I would do anything for you doll. You are everything to me, both of you –Chris said scratching Dodger’s head and giving a sweet kiss to Y/N.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be part)

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho @void-hoechlin

[writerwrites]

Little Town Street

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: A college fling with Andy Barber is rekindled when you move back to Boston and you’re both single. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut 18+, language, tinge of angst, Defending Jacob spoilers / all the warnings that would go along with the series, fleeting mentions of divorce and bad breakups

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 3 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby, @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho , and @donutloverxo​ || The Week 3 Prompt was based on  All Too Well by Taylor Swift || I’m only 3 months late, minimum || Fall dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Boston. Your heart raced just thinking about getting back to the place you went to college. The glide of the tassel across your cap and the memories of late night conversations over pizza and beer while elbow deep in a tort. You’d loved the smell of law books and the haze of the green lamps on the library’s oversized and ancient oak desks. The magic of that place was lost on you while you were there, as was the magic of the few relationships you managed to establish while getting your law degree. But here you were, the little suburban town just out of the city, boxes piling up in the empty living room as you settled into your newly single life at a small firm that liked your big New York City success. This was a needed change after a painful breakup. This was your clean break.

Covered in sweat with your hair in a messy top bun, tank top slithering up the steep curves of your soft sides while the sun kissed the back of your bronzed skin, you heard a honk at the intersection in front of your house. The unexpected sound jolted you and the heavy box of books slipped from your fingers and landed on your foot. Hopping to the steps of your new brick home, you looked over at the intersection. It was a near-accident that was the cause of the ruckus. Both cars now at a standstill at the center of the four-way intersection. It took a minute for you to process the shock as you rubbed at your aching foot, but there he was, thick brown hair and bright blue eyes looking at you through the windshield of a black Audi A6. Andy Barber.

With such a public court case and the subsequent car accident, every news-viewing American knew who he was and knew a little too much about him. The problem was that while you’d sat in your own office in the Big Apple, trying to put yourself in Andy’s shoes, you watched a person you once knew in a new light and while your now-ex kept bringing up the commentary of obvious guilt, you couldn't help but sympathize with the collapse of his life. It was too easy for you to slip into the heartache of a family stalked and ruined, a person left so completely exposed and judged by everyone that you’d trusted. It was, after all, why you’d left New York. It was a miracle you’d gotten your fresh start, the Barbers certainly didn’t. You could picture it, but you never speculated, never stayed on the channel when the case came on. Every fiber of your being couldn’t look at him, not because of what broadcasters said but because of the too real memories of a love lost.

You were the one that ended the stare-off, your foot aching more with every passing second. Jaw clenched and lips pressed into a line, you were just about to convince yourself that there was no way Andy Barber, your biggest competition in college and your first love, was outside your new home… and then you heard him say your name. God, it always sounded so good coming from his mouth. The last time you’d heard it he was asking you not to go, drunk outside the bar you’d had your first date telling you that what you two had was bigger than the careers ahead. He didn’t see the tears streaming down your face once you turned away to get in your cab. Maybe, after all this time, he thought you didn’t hear him scream your name.

When you opened your eyes Andy was there at the bottom of your driveway on that little town street, brows knit together with concern as he locked his car that was perfectly parked on the steep driveway like he’d done it a million times. “Don’t look so worried about me, Andrew. You’re the one who just nearly crashed a bajillion dollar car.”

He laughed, despite noticing how you’d used his full name like you two were standing on opposite ends of a courtroom- and maybe you were. But that laugh, the warmth of it wrapped you up and you were thrown back through the magic and memories of that romance once more. The plaid shirts you stole in the middle of the night to run to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Your skin was covered in goosebumps despite the heat as you remembered how Andy had peeled you out of his shirts to warm you back up with his skin on yours, the metal of the fridge pressed to your back. Every moment with him was crystal clear in your mind the smells of autumn and taste of cider and beer when your tongues met, the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs, and... It took his hands on your chin to pull you out of the pain and want of those happier days that you’d ignorantly run from scared of settling. “Are you sure the box didn’t land on your pretty little head?”

The sound that passed your lips was practically a damn purr, you mentally cursed him for pulling it out of you with familiar ease. Opening your eyes to look up at him, you wondered if the emotions of that tumultuous relationship sat at the forefront of his mind too and if it was written on your face. “Nope, definitely landed on my foot.” Swallowing at the sandpaper in your throat, you looked at the swollen discolored mess.��“You didn’t have to see if I was okay.”

“First, yeah, I did. It’s been fifteen or sixteen years since I’ve seen you. Second, I saw you hop over here clutching your foot. I can’t leave a wounded deer on the side of the road, can I?” His hands were stubbornly placed on his hips and that’s when you noticed the pale indent of a missing wedding band on his left hand’s ring finger. His blue eyes followed your gaze and he rubbed at the spot like he’d not gotten used to the absence of the cool metal. A similar thin, faded line from a discarded engagement ring on your matching finger. “I guess we’ve both been through it.”

Offering him a small smile, he helped you up and as Andy’s strong hands clutched your waist you wondered if he’d remembered just how ticklish the space between your ribs and hip were when he was careful to not touch you there. When you grabbed at the perfectly tailored coat trying to hop around the man let out an amused grumble and scooped you up. “Aren’t we a little old for grand gestures?” Your head rolled back as you laughed and he turned to get you through the door without smacking your injured foot on the frame. “Jesus are you hitting the gym and benching thick girls, Barber?”

The laughter filling the house was only amplified by his unceremonious dropping of you onto the love seat. The crooked smile looking down at you made you melt. That look, it was a drug that you’d had you first taste of in a mock trial, when he knew he’d won his case and looked back at you in the seats behind him, taking notes. “Other than the box on the lawn, are there any more?”

“You don’t have to..”

“But I’m going to and I want to. Besides, you can’t.” Andy was already pulling off his coat, loosening his tie, and buttoning his shirt before you could protest... not that you were capable of it. He bit his lip when he caught sight of you drinking him in. The slacks and the undershirt that clung to him. “Like what you see?”

“It’s rude.” You stated matter of fact, gesturing to all of him. Andy raised his hands as if to apologize, heading to the door to get to work. Closing your eyes, you could perfectly picture that one picture of the two of you at your graduation. Inadvertently, you mumbled to yourself. “I miss looking that damn good.”

If your eyes hadn’t been closed maybe you would’ve seen the way he froze in the doorway, biting his tongue before stepping out. It wasn’t until you heard the hefty thunk of a box on the hardwood floor that you peaked your eyes open. A clear sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and you bit your lip, the heat running over your body was hardly from moving boxes or the summer heat pouring in the front door. “Please tell me the rest of it isn’t boxes of books, Legal Beagle.”

Scoffing at the old nickname you sighed, “Nope, it’s just bottles of wine and liquor and pictures. The remnants that I didn’t want to break or misplace in the moving truck that came a few days ago.”

“You’ve been here for days and you didn’t call.” His tone was surprisingly wounded.

“Well, Legal Eagle, you didn’t exactly shoot me an email either.” Andy’s eyes burned into you when you used his old nickname back, but you couldn’t decipher what that look really meant. Before you could ask or apologize he was turning back out the door, leaving you there to chew the inside of your cheek raw.

Andy made quick work of the boxes in your car while you nursed your bruised foot trying to unravel the feelings bubbling to the surface of your mind in memories and regrets. When the front door shut, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up, eyes fixed on the bruise while you thought about the emotional bruising you’d caused each other. It wasn’t hard to really know why he hadn’t emailed, nothing funny in the broken pieces you bother were left to pack up and move on from. When had you started crying? Cheeks wet when his hands cupped your face, forcing you to look up at him, thumbs brushing the tears away. “Hey, if it hurts that bad maybe we should take you to get it looked at.”

Reaching up you grabbed Andy’s wrists, but you found yourself hanging there, incapable of pulling him off of you. Instead, your thumbs brushed across the inside of his wrists just applying a little bit of pressure before skimming your hands up the firm muscles of Andy’s forearms. Each of you tried to translate the signals the other was putting off. If it hadn’t been for the haze of being so close to him, maybe you would’ve had the sense to pull away. With a sniffle and apologetic smile you shook your head ‘no’- or at least to the best of your ability when he was still comforting you like no time or pain had passed between the two of you. How long had you been holding on to this first love?

This close you could see it, the little creases of age at the corners of his eyes and a little salt and pepper in his beard. Despite the way those lines seemed to crease his face like words of chapters you’d not been privy to, his blue gaze was unchanged and every welcoming detail of them looked at you like you hadn’t changed either. The moment his knee pressed between your thighs to your core you realized just how needy you were, whimpering and parting your legs as he lowered himself onto you. His hands moved down your neck to your breasts and a firm squeeze and the brush of his thumb over your nipples elicited another breathy moan from your lips. How long had it been since anyone had looked at you like that? How long since you’d gotten off?

“Andy,” The weight of his name on your tongue was dizzying, but the way he said your name back was just as heavy. You pulled his mouth to yours and he parted his lips to wrap around  your bottom lip. His beard scratched at your chin, sending shivers down your body.

Picking your hips up from the couch, you satisfied the ache between your legs on his thigh. Smirking against your lips Andy pressed harder into your core. “You missed me.”

“To the bone,” The confession passed your lips and all you wanted was for him to stay, the thought alone so wholly selfish. Your eyes fluttered open, scared that it had been poison on his own tongue, noticing how he’d pulled away ever so slightly. “That wasn’t fair.”

Though it seemed like a poor apology, Andy was already shaking his head to reassure you that it wasn’t. That quiet, it wasn’t a trait in him you recalled. His hands moved down your frame and he pulled you onto his lap, careful to let you move your legs to straddle him and not hit your foot along the way. “Did you think I wouldn’t care that you were coming back?”

Before you could answer, he stole your air again. Andy’s lips pressed to your neck and he hummed as he tasted the salt on your skin. Then he found the spot he used to always mark, that spot that always seemed to peak just a little out of your favorite courtroom blouse. Gasping, your nails scratched softly at his sides. He took it as a hint and pulled off his undershirt, throwing it at the boxes that had his tie, coat, and button up. “Andrew. I’m trying not to assume anything here but…”

He looked up at you so sweetly that it erased whatever logic you were trying to pull on him with that one dopey smile. “Tell me this isn’t home.”

“I..” Your mouth bobbed open and you looked at him with wide eyes. Did he mean Boston or this moment on his lap like pieces were falling into place since you’d left.

Squeezing your thighs in his palms he repeated the question. “Tell me this isn’t home. Tell me you don’t remember the promise you broke. Tell me those boxes with pictures don’t have the pictures of us all over this town.” Was this a call out? If he hadn’t been looking at you with such heartache you would have looked away. “Maybe I asked for too much and maybe I was just as scared as you were about the future I saw for us… but tell me we didn’t just find our time.”

The tips of your fingers moved up his chest and settled at the sides of his neck, innocently tugging at his beard. Leaning forward you pressed your lips to his forehead and slipped off of his lap though your whole body seemed almost unamused by the cruel neglect of his warmth, your legs staying draped over him and one arm still linked through his. Looking over the boxes you found the stack with the bright blue sharpie, ‘winter clothes’ sprawled across the top as it sat halfway between the bottom of the stairs and the closet by the front door. “Grab that one.”

Andy untangled himself from you with his fingers burning across your skin, reluctantly slipping off the couch to grab the box. When he came back with it you noticed a hesitant look on his face. His eyes moved to his discarded clothes and you sighed and pulled him back to the small couch. “Want to tell me why you’re avoiding my questions?” Ignoring him you peeled the box open and moved a few things out of the way while you pulled out exactly what you knew you needed. “I don’t break over honesty anymo-”

Words seemed to escape him the moment he saw his scarf from the first time he’d gone home with you to meet your family. He didn’t do the meet-the-parents charade and the relationship had been new, but yours had welcomed him in and made him want his own one day. Andy never thought he’d settle with someone else, but that’s exactly what he’d done when you didn’t call, write, visit, or move back… he’d settled. That little trip was a memory he’d revisited often in the torment of waiting for you to come back. The pair of you had spent most of the holiday either studying for exams on your twin sized bed or pouring over old photographs from your childhood. Now you could practically see the memories flooding back as he reached for the scarf and brushed his fingers over the soft fabric.

So, it was your turn for a confession, an apology even. “I remember it all. I miss it all. We may have been young, but we weren’t wrong. No one knew me like you did. No one ever has. We grew up, but you lingered here.” Your fingers combed through his hair and tapped his temple before moving down his body to his sternum, tapping at his pulse, “... and here.” Andy covered your hand in his, drawing your fingers lower to the buckle of his slacks. Your cheeks went red and you nodded a ‘there too’ without being able to form the words.

“Do I get a hundredth chance?” The hope in his eyes was mirrored in your own, your racing heart no longer felt like a warning sign.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” A shaky laugh passed your lips. Andy wrapped his arms around you, tender, before he laughed too, his body shaking against yours. “Oh, this is a prank? Well, damn. That’s embarrassing.”

Andy looked at you and lunging forward, mouths ricocheting in a deep kiss, tongues hungry for the lost time. Only when you came up for air, the pair of you now buried in the couch cushions, did he speak up, “You deserve all the hell I’m going to give you for waiting this long to let me love you.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay and rub my skin raw with this beard?” Squirming under him, the pair of you frantically reached for every clasp and zipper until there was nothing left between you. His lips moved down your frame and you surprised yourself, pulling him back to your mouth. “You’re staying with me Andy Barber.” Your fingers wrapped around his length and pumped him, brushing the head of his cock against your slit, already dripping. “You’re staying so beard on thighs can wait.” Pressing your mouth back to his as you continued to tease him you whimpered, not even needing to say it but recalling how much he used to love hearing it. “I need you. Don’t make me wait anymore. I need to feel all of you. I miss-”

The begging and pawing, he couldn’t take you slowly, not yet at least. Andy rutted himself into you, growling when your tight wet heat wrapped around him. He buried his forehead into the curve of your neck as he thrust into you over and over, savoring the way you gasped at his every slight movement. Andy worshiped the new softness of your frame and none of this felt like strangers trying to figure out how to get each other off. His thumb brushed back and forth across your swollen clit and, unlike anyone else, you stuttered his name as you got closer, clamping around him, hips bucking off the couch to meet every deep thrust as he slowed his pace to draw this out for both of you.

You loved the look on his face, the way he bit his swollen lips between a million kisses left on your sweaty skin. The way he lost focus when you said his name and how he gently grabbed your chin as you stuttered his name again; so close, so wet for him, so ready to finally get off. Permission, your legs shook and you whined as he kept you right there at the tipping point, building himself up to his own orgasm while he edged you. “Come for me, lover.”

The words were so welcome, just enough to push you over the edge and quickly chased by you begging him, “Stay inside me.” Andy throbbed inside you as you pulsed around his cock, your fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as your orgasm didn’t seem to stop, the room seemingly silent as the echoing thrusts and calling out of names tapered out to the sticky collapse of you both tangled up on the love seat.

Your eyes closed, exhaustion settling in, and Andy watched you breathing. Softly, Andy nuzzled his nose against the top of your head. “If you fall asleep, I’ll fall asleep.”

With a hum you nodded, reaching up to his hand that had settled on your breast, patting it, “Would that be so bad?”

More to himself, voice so low you almost couldn’t hear him. “I can’t lose you again. Can’t lose anyone else.”

“There’s probably a lot we can’t talk about, but this isn’t a dream, Andy.” Pivoting just enough to look at him you held his hand and kissed his chin. “I can’t lose you again either. I already lost a foot.”

There it was, that cheeky little smile. You both sleepy laughed and you watched his body relax. “You almost cost me my car.”

“I couldn’t run away again, even if I wanted to.” Crinkling your nose you smiled, brushing your finger over the smooth part of his skin where the missing ring marked him. He did the same. The scarf hung over the back of the sofa and looked up at him. “I don’t want to, if that wasn’t obvious.”

His blue eyes closed, his smile went soft, and Andy Barber fell asleep in your arms. If someone would have told you that this would have happened when you left New York you would have run back to Boston and spared the pair of you a world of pain. Though you were scared of bridging the gaps caused by the many roads the pair of you had taken to get here, you shut your eyes and smile at the reality that all those roads led home- to him. Like kintsugi everything seemed hopeful, incapable of breaking like the last time, stronger and made beautiful through the healing time of quiet apologies, verbal and physical.

It had been him all along, no denying it. Neither of you would ever have to ask the other to stay again.

All Content Tags: @tom-hlover​

CEvans Content Tags: @void-hoechlin​

[donutloverxo]

Steve Rogers and spanking

Smut ahead. Check out our weekly challenge

Masterlist

Steve never associated spanking with sexiness or as anything erotic. He is a gentleman. He doesn't have such dirty kinks.

Sure he likes a nice plump ass. Your ass to be more specific. He loves seeing it in tight yoga pants, snug jeans. Hell he even likes seeing it in dresses that don't necessarily flaunt it. When he is forced to use his imagination.

He also likes seeing it in your cute pastel cotton panties. With stars or heart patterns. Or better yet, no panties.

He saw your ass perched up in your cute pink panties, he couldn't help it, his hand moved before he could even register what was happening. He slapped your ass, the smack echoing in the room, your ass jiggling, and your small yelp, made him oh so hard.

You looked so adorable when you tried to act like you didn't like it. Though the musky scent of your weeping sex clearly said otherwise.

From then on you'd act out, tease him, get on his nerves just to push him off the edge. He was extremely thankful to the serum when he could so easily manhandle you over his lap and discipline you.

"You're such a brat" He'd scold, smirking at your feeble attempts at getting away from him. He would deliver as many spanks as he saw fit for the situation.

Never more than ten or fifteen. Even as a dom Steve is really soft, he would never want to actually hurt you or cause you discomfort.

He'd dip his fingers in your folds, just because he couldn't help himself. You would always be so wet, unabashedly enjoying it. Does it actually count as punishment if you enjoy it?

He always uses his hand. He feels it's more intimate that way. Besides there's nothing like your hot warm skin against his palm.

He especially likes it when you'd present him your ass and demand to be spanked. Sure he maybe the dominant one on the surface but you are the one who is truly in control.

He is the king of aftercare. Rubbing baby oil or aloe over your raw ass after a tasking session. Seeing it all red, because of him, invokes a darker, possessive side of him.

He does feel a bit bad about being proud when he sees you struggling to sit on your swollen ass.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Love and Hate

Summary- 2.7k Mike Weiss x You. Another hotel, another fight, and another making up. Maybe you were just a much an addict as he was. It only seems okay, if you two are fighting with one another. Warnings- Drug Use and Fucking one another. Smut. Messed up and unhealthy relationship. Written for @donutloverxo​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ and @captain-a-rogerss​ 3rd week challenge- song fics. Choice I used was Eminem (cause I love the bastard) and Rhianna’s, Love The Way You Lie. 

A/N- I love the dysfunctional relationships, the ones that just are self destructive toxic messes. I doubt Mike could ever truly be in a healthy one, although maybe some day in fanfics. I can't claim to know accurately what certain drugs will do, so when reading this, its simply my interpretation. Don't expect the highs and lows to be accurate.   

“So he never had any intention of fixing those trucks, he sent them with broken pipes, claiming to now know they had busted pumps.” Mike snorted clearing his nasal passage, as the coke flooded his mind with an endorphin rush. It was almost as good as sex with you was for him. Almost. What was better? Was if you were here with him. He missed you, but you didn’t approve of this. This process helped him think. His name might come after - Danziger, but he could see the process almost as it was unfolding before him much clearer than his partner, especially when he was at his peak, right now. The only way to make it better,  if you were here. You baby was his ultimate weakness.

The people he wrangled into the room, the dealer neighbors, and crack whores he called to his hotel room, mainly hoping to score those couple grams, willingly share with them. All sitting there with there stick-it notes to there shirts, it finely clicked in there slightly slower minds. There oohs and aahs, the sick fuck statements that filled the room left him nodding in agreement. “Guilty… he’s guilty.” 

The fire chief is not the only one guilty, Mike, oh he burned you over and over, that was how you described it every late-night you came searching for him. I’m at friends, working with Paul, got a trial I’m working. That was how he described it. Just like how he described it tonight on the phone to you. And yet, when you pulled in, the upper room door wide open to see Mikes silhouette bent over the table, and then he reared back his head, bouncing like a boxer might, his nose scrunching up. 

You’re just gonna stand there and watch me burn. 

Mike never heard you slam the car door, or go up the steps, nor did he notice you standing in the doorway till one of the dealers said something. “You looking to join the party sweetheart?” 

Mike spun around to take you in, just as you did with him. You could see it, the way his body was thrumming from the drugs. The intense high that left him jittery, with tense muscles, his biceps straining, the veins in his neck standing at attention, and his face, he took in every bit of information, filing it away in case it was necessary for another time. How had he explained it to you? Oh yes, he was hyper fixated on all details, he was smarter, faster, stronger when he was high. 

It was the crash though that would leave him half dead, so many times you had found him on the verge, but never quite crashed. 

That was just a man playing a dangerous game. It was just a matter of time. 

“No, I’m fucking not looking to join.” You snarled as you entered the room, and Mike took a step forward, trying immediately to appease you. 

“Baby, It’s just for work.” 

“Shut it, Mike, all of you, get the hell out.” 

The girls, the ones you could only begin to guess what they were here for, started bitching immediately. “Hey, we don’t know who you are lady, but we brought the goods, and we’re not leaving till were paid.” 

Your voice might have got shrill when you grabbed your purse off your shoulder and Mike tried to stop you with “Baby, come on, stop, they don’t know any better.” You ripping your purse open and yanking out all the cash you had, your anger now uncontrolled. Throwing those bills at the girl’s faces. “There! Now your fucking paid!” Mike’s hands grasped your arms to prevent you from throwing anything else, the group behind you started to band together, getting mad. The tension in the air between you and the people behind him leaving Mike the barrier. The drugged high barrier protecting each other from one another. 

“Get out! Get out! GET OUT!” You’re now screaming, and Mike looks over his shoulder, his grasp on you so tight it would bruise your forearms. You don’t notice though. Not at this point, You rarely do. 

You like the way it hurts. 

“Get out guys, I got her.” Your rage turned towards Mike, the anger seething just at him now, He got you… Did he get you? 

“Yeah man, she’s killing the vibe.” One of the others said, and Mike pushed you into a corner of the room while your screaming at him, the people passing the two of you, and the door closing with a sharp slam. Leaving the two of you alone. 

“Y/N! Stop it! Fuck, calm down!” Mike yelled right back in your face and you wrench your arm from his hold, slapping him in the face. 

“Let me go.” 

Mikes eyes snap at you, slamming you back into the wall hard enough so your head bounces off the cheap hooker motel, the one you knew he was dipping into the savings to pay for, along with the lines of powder smearing across the nightstand on each side of the bed, and god knows what else was scattered around this room. 

Mike, god he tried to make you understand, it was the only way he could work, that he could keep the thoughts straight. He loved you, so much that it was painful in its own messed up way, one that he lived for. 

Right now it felt like a steel knife was being held to his windpipe, he couldn’t breathe. The way your anger edged on hate, hate, and love was such a fine line he danced on for you. 

Sometimes you were just such a fucking bitch to him, blaming him for all the wrong in your lives. Sometimes you brought him so fucking high, it was a drug all on its own. 

High on his life for you, but drunk on his hate at the same time. 

Mike twisted you onto the bed, dropping you down, and caged you in as he straddled your, biting kisses on your lips and pining your hands above your head, growling into your mouth. “Why you always give me a hard time Woman? It was nothing, Nothing.” 

“Then why you hiding here and not in our home?” His kisses just fueling the hate simmering in your chest, even though your body pressed into him for more. Pulling his head back enough to glare down at you, still, lines of white dust were streaked across his nose, and he bared his teeth at you. 

“Cause I know you hate me for this.” 

He wasn’t lying, you did. Fuck you loved him and hated him at the same time, and it was a constant war within’ yourself. You shake your head with conviction, no no no. He caught your jaw in a hand, fingers digging into your cheeks, probably leave bruises there to. 

“I love the way you lie.” 

Then in a flurry of tugging clothes, the quick demands Mike had on you matched his passion he had discussing his case earlier. He needed you, needed to feel you clenching around him as he debated that he deserved it. Taking whatever he wanted. 

You couldn’t keep up with Mike, your body just moved where his hands pulled you apart, shoving down of your pants gave him access to your cunt, long fingers making you weak underneath him, as well as him mouth, your wrists released enough to grab onto his suspenders, dragging him back to your mouth. 

Maybe you were inhibiting him, catching that coke and whiskey taste lacing his tongue, dirty and filthy, wherever he was through the day filling you to, and his grunts plunged into you just as much as his fingering you was doing. Pulling you apart, he was always pulling you apart and leaving you in pieces. He jerked you in place, hitting against the headboard, making you cuss at him. 

“Shut up Y/N, you’re fine,” Mike said through hissing words against your neck, and your fingers scratch at his back, and grab onto his belt, pulling it, working to the front to start unbuckling it while Mike is yanking on your shirt, knocking your hands loose to lose it over your head, falling back over you to keep you scattered, unable to walk that line you followed. The one where you loved and hated him. There was a rolling of both, you loved to hate him. 

There was venom in your words you spit at him, even now as he was making you thrust on his fingers, stroking your clenching walls, your arousal slicking you ready for him to break you into the mattress, jerking his fingers from you and bringing them to his mouth, pulling away from breasts he left scattered in bites and sucked on his fingers. 

“You always taste best this way.” He groaned and you ran your hands over your face, so fucking on edge from this evening events and him, that your body was still humming to be pushed over the edge. Mike worked his belt open, opening his pants with a yank and the force snapped a suspender lose, giving him enough room now to free himself from his confines. Throbbing and angry to fuck you. 

“Mike, just fuck me already, would you?!”  He slapped at your ass and grasping it, pulling you onto him and wrapping an arm around you to keep you where he needed you. Pounding into you, just as you predicted, this time he was unhinged. Still high, still wound. What started as pain soon was a pleasure and once more you were lost to Mike. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, right there.” You whined to him, scrambling to match his movements, but there was no way, you just let yourself get railed over and over till you were arching under him, fingers clutching at the hair at the back of his head. “Don’t you dare fucking stop Mike.” 

You two punished each other, push and pull at each other’s hair, scratch and claw at each other, bite at one another till teeth sink claiming into flesh. Screaming into his tense shoulder when he hit your sweet spot, over and over again, trying your best not to give him what he wanted. Cause that was all this was, his way of seeking that satisfying high once more, the one that the drugs couldn’t give him. 

Maybe this was your high? Fuck if you knew. 

Whatever it was destroying you. It destroyed you once more when you came for him. But damn it all to hell if it didn’t give you your own high, in this cheap hooker motel, clutching your destructive man to your body like he was the very air you breath while your eyes rolled back, and your jaw went slack, that look of triumph coming from Mike pissing you off in that second, but then he matched your expression, you both falling, falling into pleasured oblivion. 

Fuck you hated him and loved him, you thought as he smothered you, gasping into his neck as his arms circled around you, keeping you in against him. Mike knew he couldn’t loose you, you were probably the only thing keeping him alive still. Better then any upper and downer he could ever divulge in. Better then any bottle of alcohol he could consume. Better then any hooker he could fuck. 

You were it for him. All your loathing hate and passionate love were what kept him alive. As long as you come back for him, fought against him, loved him. Only you two could live so destructively together, tearing each other apart, and putting one another back together.

Light streamed through the heavy nicotine stained curtains as Mike’s phone screamed in the early morning, making him push off you where he passed out the night before and roll to the edge of the messed up bed. Running a hand through his hair, he dug into his pants pockets, half held up with a remaining suspender and yanked out his phone. 

“Shit, I’m due in court.” He started yanking clothes on, occasionally rubbing at his face in a distracted manner while you groan, and roll in the bed to see his back, head lowered against his hand to try and dispel the pain that came with the after-effects. Pulling up, you take the undone suspender and lope it over his shoulder which he grasped and reattached it to the front of his pants, and looked over his shoulder. 

“Yesterday is over Y/N, today is a different day.” Mike stated while moving to a stand, grabbing his brightly colored shirt and snapping it straight, dropping the straps from his shoulders to put the shirt on. “I will change, I promise. Last time.” 

You move to a stand to take over buttoning his shirt, his fingers shaking to much. Lack of coffee he would normally tell you. Today he didn’t even bother with that lie. So many were spewing from him already. Yours were steady, one at a time fitting them through the holds as you went up, till you reached the end and flipped his collar. 

“Whatever you say, Mike.” You glance around and pick up his tie, fitting that around his neck as well, and looping it around till it sat perfectly against his chest. He grabbed at the back of your neck and tilted your head to look up at him. “I fucking mean it this time Y/N. I’m sorry, okay.” How much truth did he have in those crystal blues? None, none at all. And that was okay. You were just as fucked up as he was cause his chaos kept you alive. Kept you coming back. 

“Okay Mike, I believe you. Go… You have court, and I will see you tonight at home.” Leaning up to place a kiss on his lips, your hands lifted to brush through his hair to fix it. “Go.” 

Grabbing the last of his things, and shoes, he was out the door, leaving you to gather whatever was left and abandon the night before behind. 

In the coming weeks, it seemed to change. His habits became bearable after withdrawals. The first time you experienced them, they scared the hell out of you. Now, now you were familiar with them. Hours to days, days to weeks, Mike woke up with you and went to sleep with you every night, he became an attentive gentle lover, and you two seemed happy. 

It was all wrong. Both of you pretending this way, a happy life. It wouldn’t last, it never did. He hated it, the way his eyes wouldn’t look at you anymore, but skating over you, your fake laugh over the dinner table at a joke he made, making him grind his teeth. Maybe just one last time? He loved you and hated you, he couldn’t ever leave you. But maybe it could be more bearable. Bring back your anger to feed off, feel something good again. He picked up his cell phone and made that call. 

“Yea, how much? That’s good, that’s fine. You be over in an hour? I will have your cash.” 

You wanted him better, healed, himself. But at this point, you didn’t know who was Mike really. You’ve always known him in all his other stages, and this one, he seemed so… fake. Even you were faking your way through the days to show him support. How wrong were you, to miss that destructive piece of shit that made you so mad you wanted to sink into nothingness. Which is what he was able to do for you too. Pulling up to your house, lost in your thoughts and feeling yourself suffocating as you went up the steps, and opening the door, there Mike was, and that pit in your stomach collapsed into the fire, trickling up your spine. Now, this… seeing him humming before you, his words running together to whomever the dealer was, his whole body rigid in excitement. 

This was the Mike you knew, had missed, loved, and hated all at once. Maybe you were just as self-destructive as him. But oh baby, were you ever ready to crash and burn with him. 

Mike swung around, and cursed, preparing for what was to come. 

How fucking much did he miss this? Since the last time. 

Both of you destroying each other in the worst of ways. 

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn

But that's alright, because I like the way it hurts

Just gonna stand there and hear me cry

But that's alright, because I love the way you lie

I love the way you lie

I love the way you lie

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Voice

One-Shot

Description: When Mr Freezy enters your life, your peaceful world is destroyed.

Warnings: Non-consensual, voyeurism, masturbation, verbal abuses, harsh language and hints of necrophilia

DO NOT PROCEED IF THESE THINGS UPSET YOU. THIS IS A VERY DARK STORY. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This one-shot is my entry for Week 5 of @donutloverxo 's superfun writing challenge. This time, the challenge was based on GIFs. The one I selected will appear in the story below. Click here to participate in their weekly challenges

A/N- I blame @jtargaryen18 for making me an unholy hoe for Mr Freezy! 

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

You were living the best life in 1969. Working part-time at the ice-cream parlor in the mornings, hanging out with your friends in the evening and sneaking out for parties at night, you loved your routine, carefree life in New Jersey.

Your foot bobbed along the tunes of Honky Tonk Woman by The Rolling Stones as you read that month's fashion magazine, sitting by the new, shiny cassette player. Taking pride in the fact that your family was the first in the neighborhood to buy the expensive cassette player, latest in the technology of playing music, you smirked as you delicately, almost teasingly fondled the device. 

*beep beep*

The annoying horn of the filthy ice-cream truck broke you out of your reverie. Scowling, you turned to look at the abomination on 4 wheels parked right in front of your house. The long-haired driver, who called himself Mr Freezy, always gave you creepy vibes. Maybe he thought his wide smile would lure in more children, but it never failed to make your skin crawl with disgust. 

You tried your best to ignore him and his irritating horn, hoping that he would drive away soon enough. Unfortunately, it was a hot summer's day and there was a long, winding line of customers.

After yet another *beep beep* you slammed down the magazine on the table. Walking out in your pinkish-red knee-length skirt and long-sleeved top, you had a good mind to tell Mr Freezy off.

Standing in front of his ice-cream truck window, you stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips. "How can I help you Ms Jello Mould?" his disgusting attempt at comparing you to a dessert sent a chill down your spine. 

"You have a long line of customers! Stop pressing your horn every 5 seconds!" you exclaimed, gesturing your hands towards the waiting people.

Mr Freezy chuckled, but the mirth didn't reach his eyes behind the glasses, "Now now. That is no way to talk to someone who is older than you Raspberry Ripple," he said in a friendly tone, "Not everybody can afford to buy a cassette player." 

"Maybe you can if you cleaned your ice-cream truck once in a while," you spat, purposefully covering your nose, "I work in an ice-cream parlor, and no establishment dealing with ice-creams should stink like this!" 

"My customers don't seem to mind it Sugar," his sweet tongue rolling the last word as if he was drooling.

You huffed, "I mind it! And stop with the horn! Or I will have daddy make sure you are never seen here again." And with that hardly intimidating threat, you walked towards your house. Mr Freezy licked his lips as he saw your silhouette disappear behind the front door. He could put your bratty nature to good use. Very good use indeed.

🍦

Dressed in a brown checkered dress, you sauntered home after your shift ended, your spirits high as you looked forward to being Ricky's date tonight at the party.

As you entered your home, your eyes fell upon the new cassette sitting besides your beloved player. Squealing with excitement, you rushed and grabbed the plastic box, hurriedly prying it open. To your surprise, a few photographs of you and Ricky fell out of the case with the words "Does daddy know about him?" scribbled on the back of every photograph.

No no no. OH GOD NO! you panicked as you rifled through the images. Your parents had no idea about your nightlife, let alone your boyfriend! These lovey-dovey photographs threatened to reveal your secret and ruin your life.

You found another note in the box behind the cassette, "There are plenty where these came from. Now be a good girl and play the cassette." Just beneath the sentence, a chocolate bar was roughly drawn in the corner and the words “My Chocolate Fudge” were written in small letters. 

Your hands trembled as you hit play. A raspy voice greeted you from the device.

"Hey baby." You knew this voice, who was he? "Has daddy's little princess recognised me?" You were pretty shaken up, your mind refused to let go of the terror and think straight for a moment as your thumbs rubbed against one another.

"Oohh Sugar, what am I going to do with you?" the voice chuckled. That sentence brought you to a complete halt. It was Mr Freezy! How dare he threaten you like this?

Before you could form any coherent thought, he tut-tutted in annoyance, "How can an ordinary ice-cream man like me trouble a beautiful young woman such as yourself? What will Daddy say? Let's call Daddy shall we? I am sure he would enjoy looking at how well Ricky can fondle his daughter's breasts."

You felt numb as his words sank in. If your father found out, he would have you sent to the country, to his relatives who lived on a farm! Eww!! You shuddered, overcome with disgust as the cassette continued.

"Now Sugar, we don't need to tell Daddy about us. Do we?" You shook your head in response. "Very good," Mr Freezy continued, "Open the curtains to your right, and look at the house across the street."

You followed the instructions, and nearly choked on your spit. There he was, in your neighbour's house, smiling and waving from their first-floor window. "Follow my next instructions very carefully, or I will make sure that your entire neighborhood comes to know about the wonderful kisser that Ricky is."

You could only nod in response. No matter what, you could not afford to let your family be humiliated because of your actions. 

"From now on, hit pause after you finish every command. And hurry, we haven't got all day Sugar. Your mother will be home soon. And if she is home before I am done with you, then let's just say tonight there wouldn't be any dessert for you," you gulped in agreement.

"Pull up a chair near the window and place the player near you." Your fear slowed you down and the recorder kept on playing, "Face the window, and strip." After a pause, you heard, "Sit on the chair and spread your legs wide. Keep your feet on the windowsill."

The rest of the commands fell on deaf ears as your body was stunned in shock. Did this man… really? You couldn't. You wouldn't. Maybe you could still apologise…

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you realised what this man wanted you to do. It was almost 4:30pm and people would soon fill the street in front of your house. If anybody decided to even look towards the window, they would surely see your body on full display.

As if reading your thoughts, Mr Freezy shook his head and pointed to his wristwatch.

You knew your mother would be home before 5:30pm. Whatever you had to do, you would have to do it quickly. 

With trembling hands, you paused the cassette, and obeyed his first two commands, the upholstery on the chair feeling warm against your naked bottom. From this angle, you couldn't see him, but you were sure he was keeping an eye on you.

You were correct. 

Mr Freezy sucked on his ice-cream bar as he watched the scene unfold. His tongue working the cold dessert as if it were your core. A small bite here, a suck there, and his length was already aching in his pants.

"Oooo look at that slutty pussy! Just waiting for a man's touch," his voice cooed from the recorder, "Play with your clit with one hand, and bring your other hand to your breast."

You begrudgingly relented, wanting to get it all over with soon. Heat flooded to your face as the indignity of your actions set in.

Across the street, Mr Freezy unzipped his pants, and started rubbing the neighbor's panty on his shaft, his touch fleetingly light as he sucked on the bar. He bit into the ice-cream when you rubbed your clit, the cold going straight to his length.

"I love how your plump breasts bounce everytime you take a step. A man can get lost in those curves of yours," his raspy voice continued, "Squeeze your breast lightly. Feel it's roundness. Tease your nipple too. Fondle it with one finger." 

You bit your lips as you followed his instructions. You had masturbated a few times and had even reached third base with Ricky, but it had never felt like this. You knew this was humiliation in answer to your rude behaviour. But this… it felt… good. You were ashamed to admit it, but as the teasing prolonged, you started feeling the familiar and ever elusive knot building up in your stomach.

"Yes yes yes baby. Rub that clit harder. Make that pussy wet for me. But don't you dare enter a finger in your cumhole." 

He watched as your hips thrust upwards, desperate for friction, as he started pumping himself faster. 

"Slap that boob," he commanded as another moan escaped your lips, "slap harder!" and you did. "Pinch your nipple and pull it. Pull it you cock sucking bitch."

More wetness pooled at your core as you continued to play with your body. 

"Stop," said Mr Freezy's voice. At first you thought you misheard him and so you didn't.

"I said STOP YOU FUCKING BITCH," his shouts from the player sounded as clear as a bell. 

Startled, you brought yourself to a complete stop. Despite yourself, the sudden cessation left you feeling disappointed and hungry for more. "Pause this recording. Go to the full-length mirror in your room and have a good look at yourself," his voice urged you.

Meanwhile, Mr Freezy had come undone across the street, his thick release coating the neighbor's cotton panties. He sighed as he used the neighbor's brassiere to wipe himself clean. He was longing to get a taste of you. Too bad he had other things planned for you instead.

You ran towards your room, trying to hide your nakedness as much as you could. You didn't recognise the woman in the reflection. Hair astray, lips and cheeks slightly flushed, puffed breath, eyes wide and the hair on your mound glistening with your arousal. You couldn't bring yourself to meet your eyes reflected in the mirror. 

You carefully went downstairs, and resumed the cassette.

"Saw the slut in the mirror? That's who you are bitch. A whore for a man's cock. Don't let Ricky touch that filthy pussy again, or I will fill you with my cum infront of your Daddy while he watches," the cassette ended with the heavy threat.

🍦

You were living the worst life in 1969. Quite often, you came home to a new cassette with new instructions recorded on them. Everytime, the plastic box was filled with naked photographs of your previous lewd acts. Up until now, you had jumped naked in front of the window, placed ice on different parts of your body, deep-throated an ice-cream bar and stripped to a vulgar song. 

Tonight however, it was different. He had asked you to carry a bottle of wine (that he kept on your bed while you were gone) and go to a hotel at midnight. Mr Freezy had explicitly mentioned that you were to wear only your bra and panty. Still, you covered yourself with a long coat as you snuck out of the house.

The hotel, if you could call an almost crumbling building that, was in the notorious part of town. With your heart pounding in your throat, you shed your coat and knocked on the door. A large man answered, his smirk widening as he took in your appearance. "You Buffy's girl?" you nodded just as you had been instructed. The stranger pulled your breast and dragged you into the room. 

He smacked your ass as he grabbed the wine bottle with another, "Buffy always sends the best stuff."

He was swift in opening the bottle, chugging the liquid down as if it was water. You shuddered at the thoughts of what this man was capable of doing to you. Tears filled your eyes at the realisation.

The man looked at you and, without warning, shoved the glass bottle in your mouth. "Drink. I like it when my prostitutes are drunk." His gaze swept over your entire body. One second you were gulping down the foul liquid, the next you were gasping for breath as he pulled the cups of your bra and poured the liquid down your torso, "Let these girls drink too! Lets get hammered baby!" he exclaimed as he pulled the elastic band of your panty and poured the wine on your mound. 

He laughed maniacally as you squirmed in his grip. Drinking the last of the drops, he pulled you into his lap, licking and sucking at the wine currently following down your figure. 

Your protests only spurred him on, but it all lasted only for a few seconds. 

You felt the stranger's body seize with yours. Breath coming in harsh rasps, you felt your throat constricting as sharp pain shot in every nerve of your body. Your agony, along with the stranger's, lasted only for a few minutes as your shallow breaths became few, finally coming to a raggedy stop.

Mr Freezy smiled a lopsided grin into his binoculars. He hurried across the street, grabbing the girl's dead body and dumping it into his ice-cream truck.

He happily hummed when he saw the ice slowly creep up your skin. You see, this profession had turned Mr Freezy cold, inside out. To an extent where he despised the warmth of a pussy around his cock. He craved the cold. He craved you.

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Taglist open! Just comment, send an ask or message!

[cheeseburgersstuff]

Backfired

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Smut! Asshole Ransom 🤷‍♀️ language? (shitty writing... I think I'm getting worse day by day)

A/N: This is for the challenge by @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @captain-a-rogerss @donutloverxo 💕

•~•

Her hand squeezed his thigh making him more annoyed than he already was.

First, she forced him to attend his stupid family's dinner, and then she was teasing him while his family was arguing.

He looked at her with stern expressions but that only made her smile innocently.

His family was too busy to notice the tension between them. She pressed her body on his pretending to take the glass on his side.

"Don’t make me take you home and punish you.” ransom whispered, his voice sending chills down her spine.

She sat back and continued eating while listening to the family bickering.

Again she started touching him, her hands brushing on his accidentally, her knees kept bumping his.

When she didn't keep her hands to herself and kept teasing him, he pushed the chair and stood up.

Everyone got silenced and looked at him in confusion. Y/n tried to suppress her smile, she was successful in making him annoyed which wasn't a different task. 

He was easy to make, annoy, and angry.

"I think we should go now" his tone was harsh. 

"So soon?" Joni interrupted only to get ignored by him.

Ransom took y/n's hand and dragged her outside the house.

"Sit in the car," he said as if she had another option. She rolled her eyes and sat inside.

He grabbed her jaw "you are in no position to show me this attitude sweetheart. Just gonna make it worse for yourself." He warned before sitting inside as well.

The ride home was painfully slow and silent. 

She knew the consequences of making him pissed but still, she couldn't help and feel a bit scared.

When they finally reached home she got out and went inside without sparing a glance towards him.

He smirked seeing her running away and decided how he was going to punish her.

~

He entered his room finding her there. Before she could say anything he pushed her against the wall and kissed her fiercely. She moaned feeling his hands-on her body.  He pulled out and grabbed her hair, making her sit on her knees. 

"Open your mouth"  opening his pants he took out his cock.

She looked at him in confusion. She was expecting a good spanking before getting into anything else. 

"Don't make me wait." he hissed causing her to open her mouth.

She took him on her hands and licked his shaft. 

Her slow pace was making him impatient, he thrust himself inside her mouth. 

"Can't do anything properly huh!" He started to move his hips.

Tears came out of her eyes feeling him touching her throat. She tried to swallow and control her breathing.

"Oh shit … do that again." He groaned pushing her more towards him. 

She tried to push him away knowing he was near. She wanted him inside her pussy, not mouth.

He chuckled knowing what she was doing, "oh no sweetheart, be a good girl and take whatever I'm giving you" 

He spilled inside her moaning her name. He made sure she took everything before pulling out. 

Y/n looked fucked up with messy hair and tear-stained face. 

She looked at him frowning but he only gave a cocky smirk.

"You think I don't know what you were doing making me annoyed." He chuckled.

He bent down towards her, " I know how much you enjoy your punishment, so I thought why not change it. So from now on you’re not gonna get anything." 

And giving her wink he turned to go inside the bathroom, to clean himself. “And don’t you dare think about touching yourself. 

She sat on the floor in disbelief. Ransom indeed was an asshole, the whole world knew that but that too much.

She sighed and rubbed her legs to comfort her throbbing pussy.

And then she decided if he could change the punishment then she could also change the ways to tease him and make it torturer than before...

[navybrat817]

Peaceful Waves

Story Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: James Mace/Reader

Word Count: 500

Summary: The waves always made him feel peaceful and you knew he made it.

This was written for two challenges! @jtargaryen18′s 30 Days of Chris Challenge and @captain-a-rogerss, @donutloverxo and @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho‘s Captains Weekly Challenge. Prompt for Week 2: “I’m here.”

30 Days of Chris

CaptainsWeeklyChallenge

Mace doesn’t get enough love and this is NOT canon complaint. This is also not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own! Enjoy! And sorry for missing any tags. Mace lovers, unite!!!

@nekoannie-chan @newyorkgoddess @feliciahardyn @thedarkplume @grav3dollie-666  @diaamondis @stargazingfangirl18 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez​ @lilbabycee​ @caffiend-queen​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ 

Waves always made James Mace feel peaceful. Looking back, that was always one of the happiest memories of him. Being by the water, watching the faintest of smiles touch his lips when the waves crashed. He was always level headed, but he rarely smiled. Military upbringing was the excuse he made. So you made sure to never forget the moments when he looked happy. 

Standing on the beach, you slowly looked up from the water toward the sun. The sun was dying before. Was. Now it shined like before, bright and strong. Like he was...You knew the mission had been successful because it was such a beautiful day. And warm...so warm. 

That warmth reminded you of how it felt when his arms were around you. He always said you got cold so easily. You made sure to take one of his sweaters with you wherever you went. And when his scent began to fade, you made sure to get his cologne so you wouldn't miss it. He probably would have laughed if he knew. 

You must have been standing too close to the water because the breeze caused a few droplets to hit your face. Wait...no. Those were tears. When did you start crying? You thought you were done with that. It had been months. Years. And it's not like you two had anything special…

The tears didn't slow as you remembered the day he left. He had been focused on the mission. The world needed to be saved. You never once blamed or resented him for that. Humanity meant more than your feelings. And if you held him back, you wouldn't be standing by the beautiful ocean.

Besides, you read too deeply into things. You never got a message from him. Not even a goodbye for you. It hurt at first. Some days it still felt raw, like a wound that just wouldn't heal. There would always be a place in your heart for him and that was why you still hadn't moved on. It would always be him. 

"You know...seeing the waves soothed me when I was up there."

"Mace," you exhaled as you turned around, your feet moving before your mind could process that he was standing in front of you. Falling into his open arms wasn't your most dignified moment, but it didn't matter.

“I’m here.”

Having him there brought fresh tears to your eyes. "I'm sorry, Mace. God, I'm such a mess."

"You're not a mess. You're beautiful," he swore, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

"When did you turn into such a sap?" you teased. 

"Maybe I've always been a sap," he smirked. "And…I should have done this a long time ago."

Feeling his lips against yours didn't feel like fireworks. Those faded away too quickly. This was a continuous burn. Instead of pulling away, you let yourself get swept up in it. And if it was like getting too close to the sun...at least you'd burn together.

[captainchrisbaby]

Temper

Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Alcohol

Summary: In your desperate attempt to fill the void Steve left when he dedicated his life to finding Bucky you skulled some wine and went out looking for a replacement... Steve is not impressed.

This is my 2nd entry for our challenge this week! It has only been 4 days but having the opportunity to help bring everyone together and read your stories has been amazing so thank you all <3 If you want to join! Click here Weekly Challenge

And thank you to the best two girls for always being supportive and also great challenge hosts! @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​​ @donutloverxo​

__________________________

You stare at the photo on your book shelf, though it was only taken two years ago it felt like a lifetime ago. A grin creeps on your face as you remember that day. You and Steve attended your first Stark party together when you accidentally tripped and fell in the pool, you were so embarrassed and Steve could tell… so in true hero fashion he jumped in with you. The photo of you laughing whilst soaked in water warms your heart. That warmth quickly returns to cold as your mind returns to the present, Steve is not here and he hasn’t been for a while. Though you know in your heart he loves you he can’t seem to put his search for Bucky behind him and the time he has spent searching cold leads has brought so much distance into your relationship.

He use to call daily, then weekly and now you only hear from him every few months. It makes you miserable longing for him constantly and despite your efforts its slowly breaking you so tonight you poured yourself a glass of red wine as you apply your make up, you run the flat iron through your hair and choose the outfit that will cause attention. You play some upbeat music and skull your wine as you dance around your apartment waiting for the alcohol to fill your body and release it’s affects. “WE COULD HAVE HAD IT AL-L-L! ROLLING IN THE DE-EP!” You sing at the top of your lungs. As you take a breath to begin the next line your speaker beeps then dies. After a moan of disappointment you grab your bag and head out the door leaving your half drunk glass of wine on the bench.

_________

You drunkenly stumble for your keys as you approach your apartment door. You feel the warmth of your new friend behind you. It wasn't like you to just bring any stranger home with you but your loneliness has driven you to desperation. Your plan to go out and get drunk and find the closest looking man to Steve was being executed well and the guilt in your stomach isn’t going to stop you from allowing yourself to feel good for one night.

You start to giggle as you can’t seem to pick the right key. “Need some help?” Kieran whispers in you ear. He is not near as tall as Steve nor is he competing with his attractiveness but he will do for tonight. He plants a wet kiss on the back of your neck as you finally twist the correct key into the door. With a quick push it swings open and your heart sinks to the floor.

There before you standing in your kitchen - the man you have spent the past year missing, the love you have for him hasn’t once shifted and the butterflies in your stomach feel like they never left. He leans against the bench with a beautiful red rose laid out in front of him. “Steve.” You whisper.

Kieran stops kissing your neck as you swat him away then seizes up when he realises you two are not alone. The look on Steve’s face sends a shiver down your spine and for the first time in your life you feel afraid of him. “I think you should go.” You quietly but sternly warn Kieran, you don’t need to say it twice, his footsteps patter down the stairway quickly until you are finally alone with Steve.

“I didn’t realise you were coming home.” You shakily confess. Your hands are shaking and you feel a lump in your throat that could make you vomit at any second.

“Clearly.” He finally speaks. He is furious. You try to decide whether you should even bother explaining yourself as you walk inside and close the door. Approaching him slowly but keeping enough distance to feel safe you begin to choke out your words.

“You’ve been gone so long, I didn’t know if you were ever coming back.” A tear wells in your eye but he only glares in response. “I’ve begged you so many times to just stay but you don’t care… what else was I suppose to do.” And with that slams his hands down on the bench in front of him knocking the half full glass of red wine over the bench. The sound causes you to flinch and your expression turns from pleading too shocked.

He has never been aggressive with you but knowing his line of work you never ruled out that he has a dark side. Did you ever expect to see it? No. But you crossed a line tonight, maybe not intentionally but you did.

“I didn’t mean to—” You begin but he cuts you off, “I have loved you since the moment I met you! I told you I had to find Bucky, that he would do it for me and you told me you understood!” He raged stomping towards you.

“I know, and I do understand but it’s not fair for me Steve.” You trembled stumbling backwards as you try to insure some space between you two. The fear and adrenalin has sobered you up which is unfortunate when you could use the added courage.

“Not fair? You have everything you want here, I made sure Stark gave you everything you needed so that you could be looked after and happy!” He yells.

“Everything I want? None of this stuff means anything to me without you here!” You growl back. “You can take it all back, the apartment, the fancy car and all the unnecessary flatscreens he felt necessary to put in every room!”

“So what do you want from me?” He barks.

You take a breath and harness all your courage to finally say the words you’ve been dying to say for a year. “I want you to put Bucky behind you and come home… for good.”

The weight off your shoulders quickly piles back on as his face turns red. He strides towards you grabbing your upper arms and forcing you backwards, your legs move quickly to prevent you from falling backwards and with a few steps you are slammed against the wall behind you, sending pain through the back of your skull.

His tight grip on your arms stings and you know it will leave a bruise. You lock your eyes on his and you chock to keep in your cry, they were hollow and empty. In one swift movement one of his hands rear back behind his head with a tightened fist and you close your eyes waiting for impact. He throws his punch harder and fasted than any man ever could and as you brace for impact a loud bang echoes through your right ear.

You keep your eyes closed and listen to his panting begin too slow. There was no pain like you had anticipated and his hand on your right arm began to soften. When his fore-head lowered and rested on your shoulder you gently open your eyes to attempt to investigate what just happened. You don’t move your head as you’re frozen from fear but your eyes manage to flick to the hole in the wall inches from your ear, Steve’s hand was still deep inside the plaster and the thought that his rage nearly resulted in him crushing your skull makes you whimper.

You stand there shaking as his breathing slows, when he is calm he lifts his head and slowly pulls away. The sound of cracking is loud in your ear as he peels his arm out of the gaping hole. He locks eyes on yours in his slow process to standing up straight. He drops both his arms beside him as he studies your face, you study back. He looks defeated and broken… evidently sorry. You are panting, eyes wide and locked on his then taking a gulp you allow yourself to slide down the wall wrapping your hands around your knees and nestling your head in your arms before letting out a brief loud sob. You needed to let it out, there were so many emotions flooding through your body but you pull yourself together quickly and pull your eyes up to check on Steve.

Tears were soaking his eyes but yet to fall. He looked broken. He sniffs then wipes a small drop of sweat from his head with the back of his arm. He stumbles back before catching himself and turns making a bee line for the door. He looks back one last time to recognise the damage he had done then exits the apartment.

@cheeseburgersstuff​​ @goavengers​​ @xolovegrace​​ @randomsevans​​ @iamwhoiamtmblr​​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​​ @lilbabycee​​ @dailyteamcap​​ 

[writerwrites]

A Cruel Tide

Pairing: Steve Rogers (nomad!Steve) x Reader

Summary: A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word?

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Smut 18+, specifically unprotected sex, soft Dom Steve (if you squint), some mentions of a divorce and criminal father and hints of winter holiday cheer.

A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 1 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby​ @captain-a-rogerss , @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ , and @donutloverxo ... The Week 1 Prompt was based off of the moodboard below and “What Could Be as Lonely as Love” by Amber Run

“Please come back, Baby. It’s Christmas! Where are you going to go?” She heard her ex plead on the other end of the line as she stood soaking wet in the lobby of a cheap hotel. Even the weather had turned to shit on the first holiday since the divorce. “You didn’t even take your bag. What am I supposed to tell them when they come out of the kitchen with your favorite dessert?”

“The truth.” Her words were as cold as the sleet pelting the glass door by the empty concierge desk. A few taps on the phone screen and it was over, screen black. Silent. Merry Christmas, no more lies. Just as her hand went for the bell again a stranger cleared his throat. Hand snapping back to her side, her gaze caught the movement out of someone by the vending machines in her peripheral vision. It took a minute to place him, the grown out blonde hair seemed darker and his thick beard certainly changed the alter boy appearance that the world had made synonymous with his Captain America persona. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks: this was a wanted man. She could have pulled her phone back out, could’ve called for help or ignored him, but when her eyes met his, despite the long disheveled hair and thick beard, the softness to him was undeniable. The only thing she could muster was a simple, few hours too early, “Merry Christmas.”

“You just missed him, the manager. He left to get a good seat at midnight mass.” His blue eyes flitted to the window and back to you. It was like he was waiting for the woman to say something as he flipped a coin in his hand and tucked it back into one of his pockets. “You’ve got to be cold. No point in waiting around or paying for a room when I’ve got an extra bed.”

Even with his nod for the young woman to follow him she was reluctant, wondering why he had a second empty bed and why he wasn’t with someone for the holidays- even as a fugitive. She couldn’t remember all of their names, never really following all the ‘super terrorism’ headlines, but knew there was at least a half dozen of Stark’s former friends that had stood against him, were arrested, and went ‘missing’ from some prison facility she couldn’t recall the name of.  Despite her mind trying to dredge up whatever fleeting bit of news she’d heard, her feet were still following him through the dim hallway until they made it to his door. “What were you doing in the lobby if you knew he wasn’t there?”

“Vending machine. No room service tonight… I’ll get you some clothes and head back over. Do you want anything?” The grit in his voice was familiar, the sound of exhaustion, and her eyes moved over his frame as he spoke to the door handle and then the closet rather than looking at her. Where had he been while the world was looking for him? She mused as she watched him dig through a duffle bag and pulled out some extra clothes. When he turned to give them to her, the Avenger’s eyebrows knit together. The look of concern made her shoulders turn in self-consciously. “You’re shaking.”

In the subtle exchange of a flannel button up and worn in sweatpants her hands brushed over his, finding them rough with soft and slightly raised scars at his knuckles. “Sorry.” She looked for the bathroom door and stepped around him, pausing before reaching for the handle, talking to her heels. “I’m sorry. Uhmm, no thank you, I had dinner. I’m just cold, wet… Thank you for being so nice to me.” She couldn’t do it, couldn’t pull her gaze off the floor, and with nowhere to go she couldn’t run. An apologetic smile found her lips and he saw it but gave her some space, leaving the room to go back to the vending machines before she walked into the bathroom and changed.

Steve stood at the vending machines, texting on his phone while he dropped money into the machine. His thoughts were on the phone call his superior hearing had overheard and the subsequent stammer in the young woman’s heartbeat. He knew the feeling of love lost too well, but to see it written on her face, to see even her dark skin pallor, it brought back a sorrow he’d thought he’d buried when Peggy died. By the time his ordered assortment of chips, cookies, and honeybuns had thunked to the bottom Natasha and Sam had joined him in the lobby. “I’m not sure she’s going to talk to me.” Steve started, only to be interrupted by Natasha.

“I told you that I should have gone in. You’re not as clever as you think you are, Rogers.” Nat smirked, leaning against the wall after catching a bag of chips he tossed at her. “We’re running out of time. The longer he’s out there…”

“It’s not that. She was on the phone when she came in and it wasn’t about her father. Something doesn’t add up. Why would she even make this trip?”

“Eavesdropping on phone calls? Step up your game. She’s been tapped for a week, we don’t need your ears, we need a conversation. You got this, brother. Do what you’ve got to do to get her to talk.” Sam gave him a smirk and clapped Natasha on the back. He heard Steve, but time was of the essence and with no one at the prison talking, their targets only connection to the outside world, that they knew of, was sitting in this hotel room and they needed answers. “If you can’t make it happen then send Nat a text and we can pretend she’s back for the other bed early.”

“Whatever it takes,” Nat crushed the empty bag in her palm and chucked it over the concierge desk and into a waste bin as Steve nodded and walked past his comrades, but the blonde grabbed his arm. It would have been an understatement to say she hadn’t taken the agreement to have Steve lead the interrogation felt a little personal, but she knew he could do it, perhaps just not as quickly as her. “Try and have a little fun while you’re at it, Cap.”

The jacket dripped into the tub as it hung over the shower curtain rod. It was on sale, a thoughtless gift from her father three years ago, but the only coat she owned with lining since the separation led to a move to Miami. The knee length silver dress was new and now ruined, tag discarded in the trash and the heels next to it over the vent. As she looked in the mirror, water running for what seemed like an hour before it reached lukewarm, she twisted her dark locks so that they were out of her face and less likely to frizz. The waxy soap doing little to rid her of the full face of make up which hadn’t budged in the fray of arriving at the one hotel in the small town that she could afford. Despite freshening up, her body was still shaking. The flannel’s too long sleeve flapped past her fingertips and the sweats kept riding down to the widest point of her hips, making her look like a tired college kid.

With both of the beds made, she couldn’t be sure which one to take and settled for the one nearest the bathroom. As soon as she collapsed onto it she could smell the same scent as the shirt she now wore. The distinct sweet woody smell of patchouli, slightly cloaked in a hint of fabric softener. Her teeth chattered as the door opened, but she didn’t bother to move outside of hiding her face. She felt the weight of his body slumping onto the mattress at her side, the sound of plastic raining down on the sheets was what made her peak her head out. “Oh, wow! Was there a malfunction in the machine?”

His steely blue eyes looked at the young woman with worry but it seemed to melt away in a blink or two. “No, I couldn’t decide and I remembered you said you’d had dinner but not dessert, so Merry Christmas.” Both of their fingers moved toward the honeybun and he laughed a little, “A deal? One of us gets the honeybun, the other gets to pick the movie?”

Her chin quivered, as she tried to smile while she reflected on the options. “No deal. We split the honeybun and agree on a movie.”

Taking her lip in her teeth to stop the chatter and anxiety, her sad eyes looked up at him. “All right, you win.” He got up and passed her the remote, taking his time to go back to the closet where he turned up with a stack of clothes under his arm and socks in his hand. “Here, I forgot these. I’m just gonna hop in the shower, maybe be five minutes. No stealing my half or starting a movie without me.”

By the time he emerged, warm steam poured out of the bathroom with him. Steve thought she would have warmed up and calmed down, the sound of her heartbeat and shivering no longer ringing in his ears. Instead, he found all of the food in a little pyramid on the nightstand and a black and white movie waiting for them on the television. “You can have the whole honeybun if we can watch this…”

The glimmer in her eyes and swollen red bottom lip, she could tell he knew she’d been chewing on it the whole time. He slumped back onto the bed next to her, his damp hair dripping down into his beard. His brow furrowed thinking she’d leaned in when it was just his weight on the cheap mattress sliding her in. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t pulled away immediately and then she felt the shiver of his warm, minty breath on her skin. A wave of relief washed over her when his features warmed. “No deal, we split it and we’ll watch your movie.”

His words had been whispered and he didn’t pull his blue eyes from her face. She felt naked being looked at so seriously and her eyes moved down the slope of his nose to the beard. Reaching up, her small hands brushed the droplets of water out of it, surprised to find it softer than she could remember a beard being. Her thoughts immediately went to the last beard she touched, the last hotel room, the last person she wanted to think about and her thighs clenched together with want while her eyes pressed together to hold back the emotions she had been running from for a year and had literally sprinted from an hour ago. “It’s The Lemon Drop Kid… it’s the Silver Bells movie.”

Steve leaned his face into her palm and offered up a simple grunt of acknowledgement before he opened his eyes again. She watched him in shock, that little act of intimacy making her aware of how lonely she was in this world. He seemed to notice, covering her hand in his. “Your hands are still cold.” The tension between them, the unblinking gaze, the whispered words, both of their hearts were racing. Steve caved, giving her a choice. “Want me to stay? It would probably be easier to share snacks?”

Before she could stop herself she was nodding and he was leaning over her, taking the honeybun off the nightstand before collapsing back on the pillows. Steve watched her lick her lips but assumed it was a natural reaction to the honeybun passing her nose. With her hands pulled to her chest, she swallowed when his solid frame hung in front of her for that fleeting second and when it was gone her hands covered her mouth to stop herself from taking in a deep breath of the intoxicating smell of him. Her eyes stayed glued to the television as she blew shaky breaths onto her fingertips. The monologue in her mind about all the little anxieties of life that led her to the desperate place where she was okay sharing a hotel room with a fugitive stranger over Christmas was louder than the man opening the plastic, chewing, starting the movie, and then talking to her about her half of the honeybun. Her dark eyes blinked at him when his face was in front of her again, her thick lashes fluttering in confusion. “Hmm?”

Steve set the snack down and took her hands in his, rubbing them gently as his callouses brushed against her soft skin and his beard tickled her palms when he brought them to her full lips. He only let one hand go with a nod to the food before he continued on his little mission. She nibbled at the sticky treat and watched him, holding it out every bite or two for him to steal a bite for himself until it was gone. Nothing made sense to her anymore, she wasn’t a flirt and certainly never fell into the category of being overtly trusting. He picked up on the nerves, the expression of her being trapped in her thoughts, it reminded him of Bucky and a pang of guilt to his closest friend being in an icebox in Wakanda fleetingly hit him. Neither of them needed to be alone with their thoughts on a holiday, he decided, so he tried to get to work and strike up a conversation, “Why’d you pick this movie? Not trying to make me feel good by picking an oldie, are you?”

“I used to watch it with my dad… Everyone has a go to Christmas movie, I guess. I just didn’t think I’d see it on television. When it comes to holiday movies, I guess most channels play Miracle on 34th Street if they’re doing a classic… most do the newer films. Do you have a favorite?” She watched him settle in next to her once more, reaching for his hands as he pulled away and, to her surprise, he took it back in his and draped the other arm over her shoulders.

She grabbed a pack of cookies with her free hand and Steve’s blue eyes watched her more than the movie. The woman no longer shook or shrunk in on herself with a little bit of reassurance and comfort, again, reminding him of Bucky. “Why aren’t you with him this Christmas? Why aren’t you with anyone?”

The questions felt immediately too intrusive, despite the casual tone in his voice and her body tensed against his briefly before she decided they were totally normal questions. “I haven’t heard from him in two years. I don’t really have people… I gave up most of my friends over a relationship that ended a year ago.” Her gaze fell to her hand in his, the ring finger glaringly naked as the Avenger’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. “You have a lot of scars too.”

He was processing every word and micro-expression when his gaze followed hers to his hands, initially wondering if she’d heard something about his story. “Part of the job. I take a lick just fine though.”

She nodded, noting the present tense to his response before deciding she hadn’t meant just the scars on his hand. Though she didn’t really know the depth of it, there was some mutual sentiment she couldn’t put her thumb on with him. “Doesn’t make it right. There’s enough pain in the world to not need to carry the memory of it on our skin until the end of time.” Her own were hidden under the long sleeves of his flannel and she’d almost forgotten how she swam in it despite her curvy frame. “Have you seen this one before?”

“No, I missed out. I’m sure I’ll love it. I’ve always been a fan of film.” He stole a cookie, mulling over how to keep the conversation on her father, “I’m sorry you haven’t talked to your father. Have you thought about calling him tonight? Tis the season, right?”

“It’s easier said than done.” She sighed. “I don’t have a number to reach him and he doesn’t have mine. I… I don’t even know if he’s alive.” The words came out in such a broken way, at first rushed and full of closed off frustration- not at Steve but the situation. Then came the familiar burn of grief and the internal conflict of trying to determine how much information was too much information to share on the subject. “Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” He quickly interrupted her apology, but he felt the damage had been done. Steve pulled her to his chest in a slow but gentle hug and again she didn’t fight it. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his strong pulse beneath the hard muscles and her legs tangled in his as his sweats slipped lower on her hips. “For what it’s worth, I can’t get a hold of the person I’d like to spend the holiday with, too. Missed a lot of Christmases.” He swallowed down the knot in his throat, “Maybe we can just focus on being present and what we can change.”

Resting her chin on his chest, she looked up at him, “If you want to talk about it, you can. I’m a better listener than a talker.” It was true, after a year of keeping a massive secret about an ended marriage full of them, she became a master of doing as she was told.

Steve moved his hands up her back, inadvertently sighing when she pressed herself closer. They were both touch starved and though he thought he should keep his guard up, that this was work, the way she looked at him made his new hard exterior feel like a facade. Looking at her through his long lashes, he felt torn for the first time between the job and physical needs, his thoughts trying to just find some balance. His palm brushed against the skin peaking out at her lower back, “I don’t really have much to say about him. My best friend, he’s getting some help and I can’t be with him while he’s doing it. I feel helpless about it and then a bit torn up about missing more time with him. It’s a complicated relationship and complicated circumstances.”

Reaching up, she scratched her fingers through his beard, “But does he know that you’d be there supporting him if you could?” Steve nodded and she offered up a small smile and a few more words, “Then that’s all that really matters. You’ll be there for him once you can. I may not know anything about you outside of this room or by any names except ‘Steve’ or ‘Captain America’, but I can tell the news read you wrong.”

Her dark eyes searched his as she chewed on her bottom lip. Though she’d never thought of herself as a good judge of character and had certainly found good in horrible people, the man’s little gestures and something in those blue eyes told her that she didn’t need to be afraid of him. His hands moved up her back, under the flannel shirt massaging the soft expanse of her supple curves. Just as slowly, she untangled her legs from his, the sweatpants slipping down her thick thighs with the traction. She left them there, climbing onto his lap with little regard to the fact that she was now in her silky knickers on a soldier’s lap, fingertips still pawing at his beard. Steve’s hands moved over her waist, her body as pliable as his wasn’t and he watched her throat and savored the hiccup in her pulse every time his hands brushed over a new part of her skin. “We should probably…”

With a nervous laugh she agreed, but her hips were still rocking against him and his mouth was still inching closer to hers. “…or we could ju-”

Steve wouldn’t be able to explain why he’d crossed this line later when Nat and Sam asked him about the lack of intel. A part of him didn’t care. Her full lips were soft against his and the way her wanton whimpers poured into his mouth when his tongue drew across them made his cock twitch. Every little sound and taste of her made his body react. Steve’s hands reached up her full frame, opening the buttons of his shirt and discarding it until the curvy young woman was on his lap in nothing but her bra and panties. His bright blue eyes were alight as they gleaned over her frame. His sex life wasn’t anything to write home about, chaste in comparison to Sam, Nat, and even Bucky; it also happened to revolve around work- agents in peak shape. He ached for her, a natural beauty with soft edges. Steve palmed up her back and she followed his fingers, helping him undo the clasp before helping the silky number join his shirt somewhere over the edge of the bed. Her eyes were on his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed at the dry knot there, as she continued rolling her hips against his. The woman’s were cheeks pink with embarrassment at her level of exposure in the warm light of the room, the tips of her fingers slowly plucking at his own clothes before Steve leaned in and pulled her mouth back to his. “You’re beautiful.”

The sweet words pouring from his lips just before they latched onto her breasts made her laugh and then gasp for air. His tongue drew circles around her nippled before he nipped at them and his hands caressed the soft flesh. As he marked her with three wine stained blemishes on her chest, she finished removing his shirt, only laughing again at the contrast of his toned body to her swelling curves. Her laughter filled the room as he smiled against her skin and she responded by reaching into his pants and stroking him until he was completely hard in her hand. She couldn’t help herself, panties soaked from every touch. She pulled them to the side, rubbing her wet slit against his length. Like animals they both pawed and groaned over the new friction. “Do you want me?” Her nervous whispered words brushed against his ear and Steve lifted her off his lap just enough to pull shimmy off his pants and line himself up to her entrance. Pulling his mouth to hers she kissed him softly, slowly lowering herself onto him despite his firm grip on her waist a clear bruising plea for more. “Be gentle with me.”

Steve groaned as he filled her slowly and completely, her warm wet cunt milking him as she gasped into the curve of his neck. His lips ghosted across every inch of her skin as he stretched her out, hardly moving or encouraging her to move, simply appreciating how good it felt to be inside her. When her breathing steadied, Steve palmed over her ass and pulled on the silky fabric of her panties like they were reins. Her back arched and she started to grind on his cock, her clit taut against the fabric and his pelvis only causing her to moan loader as she gripped the soldier’s broad shoulders. With a firm clap and squeeze to the round soft skin of her cheeks she picked up her pace, eyes closing with satisfaction as his thick cock filled her and stroked her walls again and again. “Good girl.” He groaned, his hands moving down her thick thighs, the veins in his arms prominent as he helped lift and drop her down on his length. Steve’s blue hues settled on the view of her dripping down his length, so wet for him. How long had it been since he gave in to just wanting someone? His thoughts were fleeting, drawn back to the reality of the stranger riding him like she hadn’t been satisfied in her entire life, now her fingers pulling his mouth to her, but he nibbled on her lip and pushed her back, his mouth drawn back to her full breasts.

With here hands clutching the bedsheets behind her, back arched as she rode his slow deep thrusts into her, she couldn’t help but tighten around him, watching him hold her was one thing… a simple delight she’d not had in a year. It was listening to him grunt and growl when her pussy throbbed around him because of the little delights. As he sucked on her breasts and he squeezed her ass holding her down on his thick cock with every thrust, she felt him hit her sweet spot, sending little heat waves through her core until she was begging. “I’m so close. I need you, Steve. Please, please make me cum.”

Steve obliged, easily laying her back on the bed and tangling his legs in hers as he lowered his weight onto her small frame. His hips rutted against her and he grunted against her mouth between greedy kisses while his hands, which had been pinning her to the bed spread her legs further apart, giving him complete access to push her over the edge. She bit her finger on one hand as the other pulled at his thighs, muffling her pleas for release, “Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Let me hear that beautiful voice say my name.”

His thumb brushed over her clit in teasing flits, back and forth and her hand left her swollen lips, clutching his wrist as he continued to rub her sensitive bud through her release. “Steve! Please. I…” Her orgasm came hard, pouring her juices over his cock he kept warm and deep inside of her, savoring that tight pussy now clutching him like she’d never let go and all the subsequent little earthquakes from his ministrations on her clit. Her thighs shook and she laughed and purred and pleaded, but he gave it to her and when she was undone on the bed, his hard length still deep inside he laid down next to her, and rubbed her back. “Don’t stop.” She whispered after a tired soft kiss up his neck to the scruff of his beard at his jaw. Her leg slid over his hip and, again, he abided her request, his hand moving down that leg and back until he was sure she was ready. Her soft kisses confirmation as he began to rock into her once more.

This wasn’t just a fuck, it was slow and sensitive, pleading. He worshiped every inch of her as he felt her soak his cock two more times from the slow, deep grinding and nipple play. Each time he marked her skin with another hickey, groaning into her neck and shoulder and mouth about how sexy listening to her cum was, how good she felt around him, how perfect her soft curves were. The praise made her throb around him and he pulled her onto his chest, asking her where she wanted him to finish. Her pleading to stay inside her, the purrs of how much she loved being full of him set him off.  She rested her body gently against him and, cradled there, he claimed her in broken and hungry thrusts, his coarse hands holding her tightly to his frame as a final thrust to the hilt and he poured hot spurts of his seed into her. Her lips brushed across his salted skin before she let out a satisfied sigh. His blue eyes closed, a sleepy laugh passing his lips, “It doesn’t get better than this does it?”

Her tired eyes peaked open at him and she giggled as his hands flopped to their sides, only his finger tips tickling her tired thighs. “I’ve never had better.”

A peaked ‘hmm’ passed his lips as if to ask, is that so, but neither of them had energy to spare for conversation. Steve managed to tuck one arm under his head, his heavy eyes watching her slowly fall asleep, the unprofessionalism of his decision to sleep with her now sinking in as the charm of her melted into a warm, silent comfort. In bittersweet introspection he thought of how to rectify the interrogation that needed to happen. Knowing she wasn’t from this city and likely to go home under the circumstances, he settled on making plans to find her in a week. Nat and Sam wouldn’t be happy, but he’d find a way to keep them busy with other leads until he could talk to her again. Silver Bells echoed through the room and Steve fell asleep, just for a little while, basking in the comfort of being adored and held rather than objectified or idolized. For the first time, he dreamt of a dance with a partner that wasn’t Peggy.

The familiar quiet buzz of her phone woke her up with a cat-like stretch and sigh, momentarily forgetting where she was. Clumsily smacking her hand around in the direction of the sound she quickly hit the wall of muscle at her side. “Good Christmas morning. You’re up early.” He smiled with a quiet laugh on his lips. “I plugged your phone in when mine stopped charging. I think all your messages are coming in.”

Her eyes sheepishly looked up from the pillow at him, processing the fact that the night hadn’t been a dream. “Merry Christmas morning, Sir. You’ve been up long?”

With a shrug, he let her process the fact that he was in dark tactical gear. He broke her thought process with the soft whisper of her name, waking her up with delightful surprise and curiosity as his expression looked hopeful. “What are you doing New Years Eve?”

She bit her lip and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with no desire to look at her phone or confess how dull. “Home alone, I guess.”

“Don’t have to be if you don’t want to.” Steve set his phone next to hers and slid down next to her, “All you have to do is ask.”

Her heart raced and she felt like she was still dreaming, but he reached out and brushed her dark hair from her eyes and met his gaze as Steve waited for her answer. “Find me in Miami and kiss me at midnight?”

With a satisfied hum, he closed the space between them. Steve hovered over her, craning his neck down for a quick peck when she shyly pressed her lips together. “That explains the coat.” He laughed, unpinning her so she could get out of bed, watching her as she slipped out of bed and picked up clothes from the floor as she tiptoed to the bathroom. Though she hadn’t gotten the door closed, she already saw her things neatly folded on the edge of the sink, a little travel kit set atop it all. As if he could see her smile, he hollered toward the door. “I hope you don’t mind that I spoke to the manager when they came in this morning about needing some basics.”

The rest of the morning went by too quickly for either of their liking. He didn’t join her in the shower, distracted by a disagreement in a group text with Nat, Sam, and the other nomads about trying to interrogate her again in a week. Meanwhile, she was glad for the privacy to do her hair and clean the night from her brown skin, the only reminders left were the tender aches and the plum bruises. Just thinking about it made her wet again and, despite the work related distraction in his hands his superior hearing made him hear her moan more than once, making his twitching cock semi-hard in his tac suit. He sat with her while she waited for her ride, he took her number, and when he kissed her goodbye, his flannel shirt tucked into her purse, both of them found a slice of happiness in a lonely holiday.

The loft apartment felt vacuous compared to the cheap hotel room, but she managed to make the most of the long week. Decorating the place with a small tree draped in tinsel and silver bell ornaments, draping the window sills and counters in twinkling garland, and counting down the days to New Years Eve. Each day felt like a month, trying to reconnect with her father while juggling her meaningless job. Each night she pulled on his shirt and her hands slipped between her thighs until she fell asleep blissed out in the memory of their night together. There hadn’t been a single word from the nomadic Captain until a dozen roses waited for her on the doorstep of her apartment, a small card with silver bells detailing the corners that simply read: One more day, doll. - S.

Though Steve thought a week’s wait to see her again would have been painless compared to the lifetime he’d missed in ice or the subsequent years he’d spent mindlessly droning on until he joined the Avengers, but the task had been anything but speedy for an unexpected reason. Sharing the limited information he’d gathered, Nat and Sam took new perspectives on getting the answers they needed for their mission, all three of them tasked with finding people connected to the family. All the digging, shared intel, pointed to an intricately planned prison escape gone wrong. While Nat and Sam thought his worries for their target’s daughter were unfounded due to estrangement, Steve had every intention of keeping his word, simply too busy moving and looking for answers to engage in the formalities of modern flirtation. Every day was busy with work and every night, surrounded by pictures and papers, he’d wonder if she was drowning in thoughts of him too. The roses were his way of making it up to her, his confession, and every detail was carefully thought over.

As she sat in the twinkling holiday lights, the sun long since set. She clicked on the television to a channel showing the Ball Drop in New York, muting it to play her own playlist of holiday songs. To be fair, Steve hadn’t given her a time he’d show up. Cracking open the red wine, she danced alone in the shimmering silver dress that ghosted across her knees and hugged her hips, time slipping by mildly unnoticed with each sip and song. Just as she’d descended into the cushions the door to the apartment opened, startling her and causing her wine to spill across the cushions. It was the broad shoulders filling the doorway that made her hold in her scream. The familiar silhouette stood speechless and her mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish when they closed the space between the living room and front door. Her eyes moved to the television, expecting to see some sort of red tape Breaking News alert that pigs could now fly. Instead, her eyes fell on the time, bright white in the corner and reading seven minutes past midnight. She ran her tongue across her painted lips, closed her eyes, and laughed. Fate, she decided, had little regard for New Year promises.

Taglist: @caplanbuckybarnes​

[donutloverxo]

Weekly Challenge Masterlist

Andy Barber

Week 3 (songs)

Love the way you lie @captain-a-rogerss

Selfish @queen-kass-the-writer

Chris Evans

Week 1 (moodboard)

Lessons in love @nbarnes

Week 2 (prompts)

Drunk encounter @cheeseburgersstuff

Lifetimes @chris-evans-indian-fanfic (also Steve Rogers x reader)

Give it time @captain-a-rogerss

Let me @allourown

Colin Shea

Week 2 (prompts)

Say so @nbarnes

Jake Jensen

Week 2 (prompts)

Full disclosure @stargazingfangirl18

James Mace

Week 2 (prompts)

Peaceful waves @navybrat817

Mike Weiss

Week 2 (prompts)

Promise to not promise @angrythingstarlight

Week 3 (songs)

Love and hate @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Paul Diskant

Week 2 (prompts)

Only love @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Ransom Drysdale

Week 2 (prompts)

Dust @randomsevans

Nothing but trouble @queen-kass-the-writer

Hot boy summer @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors

Lips don't lie @queen-kass-the-writer

The bones @xoxabs88xox

Week 3 (songs)

Bring heaven to you @cheeseburgersstuff

You got me twisted @nbarnes

Some lie @violaskye

Week 5 (gifs)

A stab to the heart @randomsevans​

Steve Rogers

Week 1 (moodboard)

Rose @randomsevans

Untitled @iamwhoiamtmblr

Brooklyn @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

A second chance? @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

An hour ago @lilbabycee

Blood roses @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho

Somebody to you @queen-kass-the-writer

Hungry @xolovegrace

Leap of faith @captain-a-rogerss

Broken @cheeseburgersstuff

Temper @captain-a-rogerss

Better late than never @stargazingfangirl18

Two is better than one @donutloverxo

A cruel tide @writerwrites

Week 2 (prompts)

Daddy's pissed @caplanbuckybarnes

Spanking and Steve Rogers @donutloverxo​ 

The mission @iamwhoiamtmblr​

Week 3 (songs)

It's been a long, long time @xolovegrace

Nighttime comforts @queen-kass-the-writer

A long, long time @randomsevans

Search @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

Lightening in a bottle @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors

At last @donutloverxo

Dream a little @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad

Week 4 (crossover)

Conversation @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

Dealers choice @angrythingstarlight​

Change of plans @xolovegrace​

Week 5 (gifs)

Riding @donutloverxo​