#captain america fluff

[buck-star]

Late night thoughts

It’s way past your bed time but somehow your thoughts just don’t want to stop spinning in your head. So maybe your boyfriend knows the answer?

Pairing: Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Wordcount: 1.430 Words

Warnings/Tags: established relationship, petnames, funny ask/answer, dom!Steve, mention of daddy kink, mention of sexual activities

Authors Note: Between lots of anxiety and not much motivation… that one was created. Thank you to @soelstress for proofreading.

Events: @gremlin-girly’s writing game [ "Do you think sharks get sad about their representation in the media?"]

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

The room is dark, only the slight light of the moon makes it possible to see the outline of the furniture in the room. Soft, warm breaths come from next to you, a thick arm wrapped around your waist to keep your chest pressed against the firm chest of your boyfriend.

His eyes are tightly closed, his breaths slow just like his heartbeat against your chest. Even though his breath is slower than usually you know he’s still awake. Steve’s fingers draw small patterns on your back, tracing your sides with his thick tights. His legs caging in yours to keep you as close and warm as possible.

Usually you would fall asleep easily if your boyfriend pressed tightly against you. The movements of his fingers calming you down and the rhythm of his heart like a lullaby to you. Unfortunately, tonight you just can’t sleep. As much as you try, closing your eyes and just trying to listen to his heartbeat turns out harder than you thought. The thoughts in your mind run wild and you just can’t find a way to turn them off.

“Stevie…?” You ask softly, trying to keep your voice as innocent and quiet as possible. As much as you want his attention, you don’t want to startle him. He hums softly, letting you know that he listens to you. “Do you think there are aliens who… like… listen to us or something?”

You can feel his lips twitching against your cheek, his eyes staying shut. “I don’t think so, princess,” he says softly, pressing his plump lips against your soft skin before tightening his arm around your waist. “But even if they do… maybe they copy our talks to turn them into movies for them.”

Little did Steve know that he doesn’t calm your thoughts but causes them to run even wilder. You nod slightly, thinking for a moment before you need another answer from him. “Do you think that’s how the first movie got created… they… they watched aliens to make a movie?”

“No, I don’t think they watched aliens, princess. That was only a joke, they probably copied some stuff from other humans but I don’t think that they use any alien sources for movies,” Steve mumbles. He takes a deep breath before curling around you tighter. “Now, sleep.”

You huff, he can’t just start with a topic — even though it was a joke — and then cut you off like that! With a soft groan you close your eyes once again and try to get some sleep. Maybe you will dream of some aliens…? Or some shar—

“Stevie?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Do you think sharks are sad about their reputation in the media?” You ask thoughtfully. Steve laughs softly, shaking his head slightly and opening his eyes. The ocean blue glistens in the slight shine of the moon as he leans back to look at you. “I mean… you know, they are accused of eating humans. But they actually don’t. Not really… the human… they look like seals when they swim on their surfboards…”

“Sharks thinking about their reputation… in the media? I’m not sure they know about our media, princess,” Steve mumbles, slightly confused. Your questions are silly and maybe even weird but somehow it awakens his own thoughts too. “I haven’t seen a shark with a phone before, so I don’t think they know about their reputation.”

“You have seen a shark before?” You say way louder than wanted as you look at your boyfriend with widened eyes. Excitement swirling in your orbs as Steve watches you intensely, chuckling softly. He shakes his head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he pulls you into his warm chest again.

“No, I haven’t. But I think we might sleep now,” he hums, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You whine softly, still not quite finished with the questions you have. Steve’s chest rumbles slightly and you know he’s trying to suppress the growl that threatens to slip past his lips. His voice changes into a more dominant and rougher tone. “Princess. We had that before, no whining.”

You huff but stay quiet. Your face is once again buried in his side while Steve wraps his arms tighter around you and hums softly. With his eyes closed he pushes himself further into the pillow.

“Stevie?”

“Yes, princess?” He asks once again, his voice softer but still holding the edge of dominance.

“Do you think birds are jealous of fishes?” You ask quietly, your tone thoughtful and your eyes slightly narrowed. “Or the fishes of the birds? Because they both can do things the other can’t.”

“Are you jealous of…” Steve thinks for a moment before he keeps speaking. “Of someone who can ride better than you?”

“WHO?” You almost growl. Your boyfriend groans, pressing his hand against the back of your head into his soft skin to keep you from bursting out like you just did. You’re just about to bite into his chest when he takes his hand away and lets you move a few inches away from his warm chest. “Who can ride you better than I can?”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips, a chuckle you don’t find as entertaining as he does. This isn’t fun, who does he think he is, telling you someone else can ride better than you.

“Princess, you’re obviously sleepy. Or just a really needy for your daddy’s cock, huh? But I don’t think that’s it because you were all innocent until now, so close those pretty eyes of yours and—“

“Who. Can. Ride. You. Better. Than. I. Can?” You ask once more, punctuating every word with a poke into his firm chest. Steve keeps laughing slightly, his eyes on you once again. He’s looking with such a sweet and loving expression at you — if he wouldn’t have one of his eyebrows raised slightly.

“You better behave now, princess. Interrupting isn’t good girl behaviour. And poking my chest with such determination,” he says with an even more dangerous edge in his tone than the sparkle in his blue eyes already has. “I only said riding better, I didn’t say what I meant and I definitely didn’t think you would be all dirty now.”

I pout but nod slightly as you bury your head in his chest again. Steve hums softly, kissing the top of his head as he closes his eyes once again.

“What if—“ before you can continue your sentence Steve pushes two of his thick fingers into your mouth and presses them down in your tongue. The pressure makes you almost gag around them. “Mhmmm n mhm?”

“I can’t understand you with a stuffed mouth, so you might just keep that pretty mouth of yours closed now and sleep,” Steve says, his voice firm but still soft. You growl around his fingers, swallowing thickly before your saliva can drip down your chin. Your boyfriend smiles softly, pulling his fingers slightly out until he keeps your tongue pinned down with only his fingertips. “Gonna be a good girl now?”

You nod and he removes his digits completely. Steve smiles softly before he drys his fingers and wraps himself tightly around you. You would growl and argue with him for interrupting you but you stay quiet and just snuggle further into him — at least for a moment until your thoughts are screaming at you again.

“No!”

“I-“

“You don’t have to say anything. I can literally hear the gears turning in your mind. But you’re going to be good for daddy and close those pretty eyes. And in the morning we can talk about all the questions you have,” Steve mumbles softly, a hint of smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Sh, princess.”

“But you—“ he interrupts you once more when he pinches the soft skin of your ass making you yelp. “Fine!”

Steve ignores the growl you make, his fingers trailing along your sides. “I love you, princess. So, now, sleep well.”

“You too, I love you too, Stevie,” you say softly, kissing his firm chest. Steve’s chest vibrates, giving away the inaudible groan you caused with your lips against his chest. “Have you ever thought how funny it might be if—“

“Princess!” He growls under his breath. Little does he know that you’re only teasing him, your mind only filled with the warmth and love of your amazing boyfriend who’s biting into the skin of your neck. You tilt your head to give him some more space on your neck. “Good girl, my precious princess, love you so much baby.”

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @rnurse-kole @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @alexxavicry @gremlin-girly @grilledcheesewithjalapeno @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @irisk12 @lilyalone @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @hisredheadedgoddess28 @princesscore-angel @blackhawkfanatic @bamitzzsam @princesscore-angel @thiquefunlover63 @kandis-mom @armystay89 @queen-honeybee-stories

[elixirfromthestars]

Tangled Up In You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

Summary: When you and Steve get tasked with decorating the living room of the Avengers Compound, it seems like the perfect opportunity to spend some time with your crush. However, a certain tangled mess of lights would prove to make decorating a bit more difficult than you had anticipated.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. established nickname -> angel

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> putting up christmas lights isn't as easy as it looks

a/n: And the secret is out! ₊˚⊹☆ This little winter drabble event was started because I wanted to do some gift giving for the holiday season. ˚୨୧⋆｡ So this fluffy fic is my holiday gift to you my dear Jo!! @neverthatsirius-jo ♡ I know how much you adore Steve, so I knew I had to write something for him just for you!! Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

main masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

You grumble an incoherence under your breath, stepping back and looking at the piles of cardboard boxes littering the living room of the Avengers Compound. Each one is filled with various holiday decorations you and Steve have been “tasked” adorning the living room with. 

Last night, during the team’s weekly game night, it was decided that the two people who lost the most games by the end of the night would be stuck with the responsibility of decorating the only undecorated room left in the Compound—the living room. 

Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately for you—you and Steve were the two losers of the night. You didn’t mind having to decorate on your day off, and you certainly didn’t mind spending the afternoon with Steve. He was one of your closest friends—a friend you have been secretly crushing on for months. You were hoping that this time together could help you muster up the courage to finally ask him out on a date.

Fingers crossed that, unlike last night, luck would be on your side when asking him. 

While Steve brought in the remaining boxes from the storage room, you were going through each of the cardboard boxes to try and get an idea of what you had to work with. This was your first holiday season at the Compound, so you didn’t have last year's decor to reference back on.

You make your way over to one of the larger cardboard boxes, one whose height goes up to your waist. You notice the word lights scribbled on the side of it in black permanent marker before you open it. Inside, as you expected, are an abundance of Christmas lights. All an extensive tangled web of cords and bulbs. You couldn’t tell how many sets of lights were inside, but you did know whoever stored them previously did so without a care in the world. Now, they were left in a mangled knot you’d have to find the patience to undo.

Maybe luck wasn’t on your side today…

You huff as you begin pulling the strands of lights out of the box. Your eyes go wider by the second as they appear to be never-ending. Almost as if you were pulling the lights from a magician’s hat, yards upon yards of string poured out. It made you wonder if Wanda had enchanted the box for it to have been able to fit so much.

By the time the box was empty, you were in the midst of the pile of lights, carefully trying to make a path by sweeping the cords on the ground with your foot. This backfires on you quickly as the cords end up around your ankles. When you try to free them, your wrists somehow end up joining in on the vine-like restriction.

The pattern of you trying to free yourself from the web of lights only to end up getting more entrapped by them continues until you can no longer discern where you start and where the lights end. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculous situation you have gotten yourself into.

“I think there’s only—” Steve's words freeze in midair along with himself as he walks into the living room and sees the predicament you’re in. The Christmas lights cover you from head to toe as if you had been decorating yourself in them. His eyes sparkle with amusement, but he keeps his lips in a tight line to stop himself from laughing. 

“Y/n, how did you…?”

“Please help.” 

Embarrassment bubbles within every ounce of you—to say the least—and with no dignified explanation of how you got like this, you look everywhere but at Steve. Staring intently at the ground when he sets down the boxes in his arms and carefully makes his way over to you. 

“I think you took out the lights Tony used last year to outline the roof. That’s why there’s so many of them,” Steve explains kindly as a way to make you feel better, delicately pulling at the lights around your body to find the ones easiest to take off of you first. Your eyes slowly make their way to meet his baby blue ones. Your embarrassment melts away at the gentle way he’s staring at you—no judgment in sight. However, you don’t miss the way the corners of his lips twitch as he holds back a smile.

“You can laugh, it's okay. This is pretty funny.”

“I’m not going to laugh at you, angel.” 

“Laugh with me then.”

The nickname he uses only for you is enough to bring a smile to your face, but when a few light chuckles leave his lips at your permission—your smile widens until your soft laughter joins his.

What happens next will forever be unexplainable to both of you. Somehow, in the midst of trying to untangle you, the string of lights find themselves around Steve’s chest constricting his movement. You try to help him, but you’re not in the best position to. So from here on out, you go back and forth trying to help one another only to end up enveloped further by the lights. 

You both laugh it off until you realize how close the lights have tangled you to each other. If you step any closer you’d be pressed up against Steve, the mere possibility sends your heart racing. Your nerves get the better of you, attempting to step back only to almost slip backward if it weren’t for Steve reaching out to catch you before you did. 

Ultimately, pressing you up against him so you wouldn’t fall. 

“You alright, angel?” He asks you tentatively, scanning you over as if you had fallen. 

You nod slowly, the words getting caught in your throat at his proximity. The scent of his cologne, an earthy spice that is mixed with something that is entirely him fills your senses, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter dreamily.

Your eyes gravitate to his lips and when they do his breath hitches. Your gaze shoots up to meet his and in his pretty blues you swear you see the same desire you hold. 

You’re dying to kiss him, and you think he is too.

Steve’s eyes lock on your lips, and that’s all the confirmation you need to gather the courage to pull him in for a kiss. It starts hesitant, yet sweet, both of you testing the waters of what it feels like to kiss one another. It doesn’t take long for Steve to deepen the kiss, wanting to pour his feelings for you out in the open. The dilemma of the lights is long forgotten as the kiss consumes all of your thoughts. 

The snapping sound of a phone camera isn’t enough to break the kiss, but the flash that follows it is. You look over to see Bucky smirking proudly at the sight of his best friend kissing you and Sam making fun of Bucky for not knowing how to take a photo without the flash on. 

“Seriously, you two?” Steve shakes his head at his friends, his cheeks rosy with a hint of bashfulness at the way his best friends are acting. You can feel your face getting hot as well, knowing there was no way you were ever going to live down getting tangled up in Christmas lights with Steve. 

As for the picture of the kiss…you were definitely going to ask Bucky for a copy later.

When you tune back into their conversation, Sam has a shit-eating grin on his face, “You should make that this year's Christmas card.” 

“Sam!”

You giggle at Sam’s teasing and at Steve’s attempt at scolding him. Steve seems mortified until he notices the way you don’t seem to mind the teasing. He stares at you with a fond expression, wanting more than anything to be alone with you again.

“Don’t you two have chores to do? Y/n and I are kind of busy here,” Steve motions to the web of lights that cover you and him from head to toe. Despite that, the twinkle of mischief in Sam’s eyes tells you he’s not done with either of you yet. 

“Kissing or decorating?”

“Sam!”

After a few more rounds of teasing that leave Steve wondering when the earth will swallow him whole, Sam and Bucky finally retreat—leaving him alone with you once more.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you angel—I promise,” Steve apologizes to you, an endearing embarrassment on his features. You shake your head with a soft smile, intending to tell him not to worry about it until an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you make it up to me tomorrow? We can check out that new coffee place down on Orchard if you’d like,” you suggest, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you await his answer. He lights up at your suggestion, “I’d love to. It’s a date then?” That last part comes out as a whispered question, wondering if you’d see it the same way he did. 

“It’s a date,” you confirm, moving against the restricting lights enough to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

So it seems luck was on your side all along after all.

[ddejavvu]

i’m having a lot of steve rogers thoughts i’m sorry 😔 thinking about him trying to discourage you from grabbing and groping him? he’s holding his arms above his head (which is just making his chest and tummy and biceps look so yummy) and telling you “ask nicely sweetheart” or he’s trying to tease but he’s blushing all the way through cause he knows he likes the attention anyways and he’s too polite to say no directly

Steve's usually able to handle any distraction the world can throw at him, but he's let his guard down here beneath your shared blankets, and when your cold fingers wrap greedily around his bicep for the sixth time this episode, pinching and squeezing and compressing, he finds his patience worn thin.

"Alright." He pushes himself up off of the bed, wrenching his arm from your grasp as your head shoots up to track him, brows furrowed, "That's enough out of you."

"What'd I do?" You ask, looking vaguely worried but mostly just confused. Steve muscles down some stray fondness at that, and presses forwards, mostly undeterred.

"You keep touching me!" He tries not to yelp, but the sound does come out panicked and whiny, "I'm trying to watch tv and you can't keep your hands off of my arms."

You laugh now, long and loud with no trace of your former apprehension.

"I just like holding you! Come back," You plead, all gooey-eyed stares and lovey-dovey hands reaching for him. He backs out of your reach, and stretches his arms over his head for good measure, ensuring that there's no way you'll be able to continue feeling him up unless you're willing to get out of bed, which he's betting you aren't.

"No." Steve doubles down, "Promise me you'll leave my arms alone."

The desired result would be that Steve could watch tv undisturbed, but he's only asked for you to stay away from his arms, and the way that they're curved over his head not only highlights their muscles, but the ones on his abdomen as well. The hem of his shirt rises barely over his waistband, showcasing a sliver of skin that teases you with a glimpse of muscle definition above. His chest strains against the otherwise loose-fitting pajama shirt he's lounging in, and you suddenly decide that his arms can wait if you can have his torso instead.

"Fine." You secede, and he seems taken aback by that, like he'd expected more of a fight. He's half right- you wouldn't have given up so easily had you not changed targets.

"Good." Steve tries recovering, arms down as he makes his way back into the bed, "You're grabbier than Tony is with his interns."

You let him settle first, lulling him into a sense of security as his eyes lock back onto the television, you give it five, four, three, two, one.

Your hand slips deftly beneath the hem of his shirt, molding greedily to the hills and valleys of his toned abdomen.

"Hey-! You're- quit groping me!"

[rogersideup]

I'd like to drop a prompt:

The avengers have a night off in Las Vegas after a mission. Thor makes sure Cap has his fair share of Asgardian liquor so Steve ends up drunk and wanders off alone. He meets our dear reader who just got dumped by her friend group and is equally drunk. They hit it off and decide to get married. The next morning both of them are confused but decide to make it work as memories of the night before come back to them. (Surprise surprise dear reader is from New York too)

‧₊˚✧⚁⁠♧777♤⚄✧˚₊‧

Steve Rogers X Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Steve gets himself into some trouble while having a night off in the city of sin.

Word Count: 4,717

Warning: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

"Miss?"

Flashing lights separated and splayed through the drying tears in your watery eyes, music and ringing from hundreds of slot machines overstimulated your senses as you simultaneously pulled your dress up and down in different places.

"Excuse me miss? Can I get you something to drink?"

Coming back to your senses, you turned around to face the bartender. "Yeah, uh..." really, you tried your hardest to think of something, literally anything to help move along the buzz you were already riding but no proper words made it to your brain. "Sorry. I'm not sure what I want. Can you just make it strong and fruity?"

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed, already grabbing bottles off the shelf.

Watching him masterfully work helped you zone out and relieved all of your overwhelmed senses. Pouring, shaking, more pouring, a garnish, then a fruity elixir of a bunch of liquids you most definitely could not pronounce was placed right in front of you atop a cocktail napkin. Not a single drop was spilled, even the ice was perfect.

Reaching into your purse, you handed the bartender your card and shouted to try and compete with the volume of drunken gamblers and rolling dice. "You can close the tab."

"Don't worry about it. This one's on the house, you look like you need it." He kindly denied your form of payment.

You chuckled to yourself. "That bad, huh?"

"No, but I know a sad chick when I see one." He noted. "Happens pretty often in Vegas."

"Well, thank you, I appreciate it." You raised the glass. "Cheers to you and all the bartenders making the world go round."

"Amen to that" He smiled before walking off to serve yet another drunken customer.

You sat at the bar on a little leather stool fully contemplating how you ended up in this situation as you looked out into the hotel casino and nursed your drink. It didn't take long for you to realize that the Vegas bartenders didn't take the word strong as a joke. Because every sip stung your throat and swirled your thoughts around in slow motion.

The speed at which your thoughts came at you didn't help the fact that every single one of them revolved around nothing but yourself.

What were you going to do now? Where should you go from here?

Drinking wasn't the answer, but not drinking wasn't the solution. Finding shelter in the Caesars Palace hotel was a good enough temporary fix to your problems, so you ignored that you were on the complete opposite side of the Las Vegas strip that you actually needed to be on.

However, getting to your hotel on the complete opposite side was the problem. Your shitty friends completely ditched you, or maybe you ditched them. The details were all so unclear, but the fact was they were all making stupid choices and you couldn't stand to stick around long enough to see the end results of them.

But now you were all done up in high heels and a small little dress in a city you had never been in before, notorious for sex, drugs and alcohol. Luckily, pepper spray in your purse and a back pocket full of self defense techniques that have been drilled into your head ever since you were a little girl were amongst some of the better choices you made tonight.

Then came along all of the dumber choices you would make tonight in the form of yet another fruity drink, and a tall, blonde man looking painfully confused at the roulette table right in front of you.

He was tall and broad, even more handsome than the massive statues of Roman men all around the hotel. But much like the statues around you, he looked like he was carved from marble. The muscles you could see sculpted through his suit jacket could've only been a result of a piece of fine art.

It was easy to pick up his wholesome sweetness behind his big blue eyes, that also did a lot to tell you how drunk the man was. He towered over the table and watched a few rounds, trying his hardest to understand what was happening. Much like him, you watched the ball spin round and round before landing in a slot.

Some of the players would moan and groan at their fate, while others would cheer happily and exchange loud laughter and high-fives.

Mesmerized by the game, you missed the glances the blonde man snuck of you. He really couldn't help it though. His friends had left him all alone while his capacity to make good decisions was at an all time low, and you were just so pretty and maybe a bit sad.

Another round was about to start, so the dealer started taking bets. Everyone around the table started placing their chips on a color and number, and the blonde was still confused.

He looked around again before his eyes met yours, and a stupid invasive smile smeared across your lips. When he noticed your friendly demeanor, he took a few stumbles over to you.

"Do you have any idea how to play this?" The man asked you.

Now you could smell the expensive yet deliciously pleasant cologne he was wearing, and you could take in all the details of his black suit.

Giggling at his cluelessness, you swallowed down the sip of cocktail in your mouth. "I do. Would you like some help?"

"I'm assuming you have to guess if the ball lands on red or black?" He asked as his lopsided smile and squinted eyes told you everything you needed to know about his sobriety... or lack there of.

"That's exactly it, good job." You nodded. "But you can also guess the number, or a group of numbers it'll land on. The payout at the end is based on how accurate your bet is."

"So what should I bet?" He asked you, having already built a strong sense of trust for you in the few minutes he had been observing.

"Oh no, that's not up to me." You shook your head before taking another sip of your drink. "You gotta trust your own gut."

The man's eyes darted around the table once more before his arms motioned to it. "But look around! All of these men have pretty girls telling them what to do, and that's why they're all winning money. You guys are so much smarter than us, and I'm alone so I need you to tell me. Red or black."

Usually, a statement like that from a man like him would have you rolling your eyes and cutting the conversation short. However, either your gut or the alcohol was telling you that he wasn't an asshole.

For some reason, you felt calm and comfortable in his presence all while being unable to wipe the dumb smile off your face. Something about his hair that was once perfectly styled now being a little jostled, and the twinge of pink in his cheeks made him seem so distantly familiar.

"Well thank you for that backhanded compliment." You laughed. "I think you should bet red."

He nodded, trusting your opinion far more than he trusted himself. "Should I place a more specific bet too?"

You thought for a moment, but you were in Vegas so... fuck it. "Yeah. Give me your chip"

The man happily placed the roulette chip into your hand, you stood up in one big sweep and started walking away from the bar. "Woah, don't leave your drink!"

Pleasantly surprised that he had your best interest in mind, you mumbled out a statement of gratitude as he handed the glass to you too. Approaching the table, looked at it for a few moments and tried your hardest to contemplate the best number to place a bet on, but once again no rational thoughts occupied the empty spaces of your brain.

So, you threw the chip on your favorite number, lucky 25.

"There ya go!" You used your free hand to pat the man's shoulder. "Good luck, Blondie."

"What happens if I win?" He asked you, smiling as you let your hand linger. Even with your highest heels on, you were nowhere near as tall as him.

"Then it's your lucky day, and you'll get a shit ton of money." You giggled at his question.

"And if I lose?"

"Then you're unlucky and you're about to lose some money." You snorted.

"That's not going to happen, you're my good luck charm." He declared.

"I don't think anything about my night tonight is radiating lucky energy, so I doubt that."

"What? No way! I feel like I've been the luckiest guy in the whole world today, so maybe I'm your good luck charm."

"I guess we will let the roulette wheel speak the truth of the universe tonight." You shrugged.

"Should we place our own bets on the bet?" The man asked.

"Like what?" You questioned, hoping this wasn't the moment the sweet stranger turned weird and pervy.

"I think if I lose I should probably call it a night and go back to my room because this is the drunkest I've been in probably 80 years." He stated. However, his words flew over your head figuring his drunken words were exaggerated, and you found yourself to be a little sad that your time with the stranger would be cut short so soon.

"I think if you win, you should stay out for a little while and have another drink with me." You smiled, going way out of your own comfort zone.

If you were sober, or maybe even drunk in a bar anywhere other than Las Vegas, you would've been caught dead before being caught to be so bold. But he was pulling you in faster than you've ever felt, and something about him felt so natural and warm.

"Deal." He agreed.

"Look, they're about to spin the wheel." You pointed at the table.

The dealer spun the wheel, and the ball was moving so fast that you could barely even follow it. Even as it slowed down and started to tease each individual slot, the motion of following the sphere going round and round was quite honestly making you a bit dizzy, so you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation.

"No way." The blonde stated. "No fucking way!"

His arm wrapped around you from behind and his big warm hands very gently shook the tops of your arms. "Look! It's on red! I can't see the number, but it's on red!"

You giggled and tried your best to keep your balance as he shook you around. When you opened your eyes you could see that the drink in your hand was sloshing around and spilling over onto the impeccably maintained carpet beneath your feet. But the loss of some of your drink was a small price to pay when the dealer picked the ball up out of the wheel and announced "25 Red!"

Simultaneously, you and Blondie let out little screeches in surprise and joy when you realized you had actually placed a winning bet. In all your years on this planet, nothing like this had ever happened to you. You never even won $5 on a penny slot, let alone a fat wad of cash that was being placed into the man's hands.

After the cheering celebration and laughter died down, he turned to you. "See! I knew you were lucky!"

"You trusted your intuition, and you won!" You noted with a smile so big and long lasting it was starting to make your cheeks sore. "Good job."

"Here! This is yours." He placed the wad of cash in your hands.

"What? No. You bet your own money, it's yours." Not being able to accept it, especially when you saw it was all $100 bills.

"No it's yours! You placed the winning bet, you knew the magic number so I want you to have it." He explained kindly. "You said nothing about your night was lucky, so consider this your sign from the universe."

"I can't just accept all of this money from a complete stranger." You denied once more. "You're very sweet, I would feel so guilty taking this from you."

"Fine, if you can't accept the money for yourself, how about we go spend it together?" He offered. "I owe you another drink anyways, then after that the Las Vegas strip is our oyster!"

"That's a little better" You agreed with a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't even get your name."

"O-oh!" The man seemed to be taken back by that statement for a second. A look of momentary confusion furrowed his eyebrows before a happy smile returned to his kind face. "Sorry, I'm Steve!"

You made a small mental note of his initial shock that you asked for his name, but your drunken brain didn't hold onto that for very long.

"Alright Steve, here's the plan." You rocked up on your tippy toes and kept yourself braced with a steady hand on his solid shoulder so he could hear you better in the loud and chaotic environment. "Half my drink just ended up on the floor when you won, so I'm going to order another one. Then after that, I somehow need to end the night at my hotel on the complete opposite end of the strip without getting taken or murdered. So if we can somehow make it from here to there while blowing through that money you just won, then I'd be more than happy to help you spend it."

Steve's eyes went wide in concern at your statement. "Where are you staying?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "My gut is telling me not to tell a strange man where I'm staying."

"Smart girl, but I'm not letting you walk down the strip alone at night. The people here are crazy." He challenged. "No funny business. Pinky promise."

Steve raised his pinky for you with a genuine look of promise and concern on his face. "Do people often trust you to get them to safety?"

His cheeks turned pinker, and he let out an adorable giggle. "Yeah, I think most people find me to be very trustworthy."

"No funny business." You lifted your hand and wrapped your pinky around his with a quick handshake. "I'm staying at New York, New York."

"Oh wow, we have a long way to go with lots of chances to blow through that stack." He smiled. "What are you drinking? I'll order you another one."

"Honestly, I have no idea." You admitted, smile coming back to your face.

"Okay great! That helps me a lot" The blonde laughed.

"Excuse me" You politely flagged down the bartender. The same one from earlier coming back, you showed him your glass. "Can I get another one of these please? And whatever he wants?"

You looked to Steve who looked between you and the bartender. "Just two waters please."

"Sure thing." The bartender agreed.

"What? You're not going to have a drink?" You questioned.

He pulled a copper flask out of the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. "I'll drink more, but this is stronger."

"Oh, nothing here is strong enough for you?" You raised a brow, your smile growing just as lopsided as his.

"Nope. This stuff is special, it comes straight from another realm."

Laughing at his joke, as you handed the bartender cash straight from the wad Steve gave you. "That's funny, because I hope this is strong enough to make me feel like I'm no longer in this realm, so cheers to that!"

You and Steve sat at that bar for a solid two hours as conversation topics flew at the two of you unexpectedly fast. Each one new topic was short lived as an enthusiastic response would happily slip off one of your tongues, so excited that the two of you had so much in common.

Then, Steve decided to start the shopping spree. He offered you a hand to help you off the stool, which quickly turned into a protective arm around you, or ushering you the entirety of your time together. He knew that the men on the Vegas strip were pigs, but he underestimated how bad it really was.

But the cat calls, whistles, and lingering eyes were drowned out by the city sounds and the big flashing marquee lights that littered the sides of every building you passed. It was just as mesmerizing as the night before, skipping down the streets in a drunken haze with your best friends.

Now you were mesmerized by not only sin city, but the mysterious man you were following around as if you'd known him your whole life.

With a sense of childlike wonder the two of you ended up in silly places like the M&M's store, and the Coca-Cola store, but you also ventured into more classy designer establishments where you convinced him to buy a lovely new belt at Louis Vuitton.

It looked good, he looked good. You had to work really hard to contain the drool in your mouth as you watched him take off his old belt to replace it with the new one.

He tried to buy you a new bag, but once again you were being stubborn and were having a hard time accepting such a generous offer.

So, you suggested another drink. Just one more.

More sitting and chatting with Steve, you swallowed down the liquid in your cup while he shot the rest of the liquid in his flask.

That last drink was the worst of your poor decision making that night, or so you thought.

Because the last memory you had was sitting at that bar and really admiring him.

The alcohol had turned his cheeks and the tip of his nose a rosy pink color that somehow made his blue eyes shine even brighter, and add to the wholesome energy you felt radiating from him.

Sweet, silly, carefree, handsome, safe.

Then, you woke up.

Slowly at first. Your eyes opened and the dull pounding at the back of your skull wasn't nearly at bad as you deserved. The air conditioning did wonders keeping you comfortable, the light peaked through the black out curtains, and your belongings scattered across the room confirmed that you were definitely in the right place.

You looked around more. M&m's bag, Louis Vuitton bag... Converse bag? You didn't remember buying shoes. Wait... how did you get here?

Only then did you wake up FAST. You sat up, and your heart pounded as you realized that Blondie was in your bed. The sudden movement made your head pound even harder, but the good news was that he was fully clothed and was sleeping above the covers.

You were also asleep and fully clothed, but both of you were in different clothes than you had on last night. That's probably what those shopping bags in the corner were...

Carefully rolling out of bed to try and make yourself somewhat presentable and aid along trying to process what happened last night, you walked into the bathroom.

Wash your face, brush your teeth, fix your hair.

By the time you came out, Blondie was sitting up in bed with his legs on the floor, shooting you an apologetic look. He was apprehensive, scared to gauge how sick and unenthusiastic you would be by his presence this morning.

"Good morning." He said quietly, voice deep and raspy from inhaling the dry air and residual cigarette smoke.

"Morning." You tried to be polite, clutching the side of your head. "What happened? How did we- how did any of this-"

"Nothing happened." Steve reassured you. "I would never take advantage-"

"Okay, okay." You nodded slowly, feeling slightly relieved. "Advil. I have Advil."

Waking over to the table in the hotel room, you grabbed the bottle of painkillers and a water. You opened both and popped two little pills in your mouth, washing them down with water.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember much either. It's been a really long time since I've gotten drunk. This is really out of the ordinary for me." He explained.

"I guess we're on the same boat then." You agreed with him before a couple pieces of paper catch your eye.

"I guess I should probably go?" Steve stated, but it was more of a question. This was the first time he ever found himself waking up next to a stranger.

"No, you stay right there." You insisted frantically, picking up the piece of paper.

Certificate of marriage.

Your name signed at the bottom next to another signature that read Steven G Rogers.

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

You studied the signature, looked at his face, looked at the signature, then his face again.

In the table, there was a picture of the two of you kissing. Him in his suit, you in the dress you wore last night but also a veil.

"Oh my god" You exclaimed, so much information to process.

"What?" Steve questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Oh my god!" You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath.

"What happened?"

"You didn't tell me..." You puffed out a breath, then an unexpected giggle left your throat. Of course, this would happen to you the one time in your life you didn't behave like a perfect angel. "Captain America?"

"Oh... Guilty?" Steve's shoulders sunk. "I introduced myself, no?"

"As Steve." You exaggerated.

"Yeah, I'm Steve." He agreed.

"Well, at least I was safe." Finding the benefit of the doubt. "Do you remember getting married last night, Steve?"

You passed the paper and the picture to him, and his face contorted into an expression you couldn't quite read. "...wow."

"Wow?" You questioned. "I unknowingly married Captain America last night and all you have for me is wow?"

"Holy shit." Steve looked up at you.

"That's better." You nodded.

"You don't look panicked" Steve noted.

"I'm not panicked because at least you're a superhero." You explained. "That counts for something right? Like people won't think I'm totally inane for marrying a stranger when they find out it's Captain America? And like... a superhero means you have people who come and clean up after you right? Someone can fix this right?"

You watched the gears turn in his head. "... I have to call Tony."

Tony. Who's Tony? Think. Superhero, avengers, Steve, Captain America. Tony... IRON MAN.

"Stark?" Your eyebrows raised. Steve nodded, pulling out his phone. "Now I'm freaking out. I'm really freaking out."

"It's okay, give me a second." Steve said calmly.

You nodded, the remembered you should check your phone too. As he spoke quietly to Tony, you looked around for your phone before finding it on the night stand, flooded with dozens of missed calls and texts from friends wondering where you were. You quickly sent off a text in a group chat saying you'd explain later, and that you were okay.

Eventually Steve ended the call. "He said he'll be here in a minute or two."

"Oh, okay great." You said exaggerating your nonchalance. "No biggie. Iron man coming over to read my marriage certificate to Captain America."

Steve giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation. "My mother would be over the moon to find out I'm married."

"My mom might have me 6 feet in a grave if she ever finds out about this." You sat back down on the bed next to him.

"When do you leave Vegas?" Steve questioned.

"My flight is at nine tonight. What about you?"

"Flying home at six thirty." He informed you. "Where do you live?"

"New York" You said simply. "Queens."

"We both live in New York and we’re staying in a New York themed hotel? What a small world." Steve noted. "Maybe we don't have to fit in a divorce before this evening."

"I mean... you are very handsome so I definitely wouldn't mind staying married to you for a few days until we get this figured out." You grinned.

A small blush stippled his cheeks at your compliment. “You’re so pretty I would’ve never had the courage to talk to you if I wasn’t drunk.”

Just like him, you blushed at his admission, and giggled at his words. “This doesn’t feel like real life.”

“Maybe I should’ve gotten you a ring instead of whatever the hell we bought last night.” Steve thought.

You looked down at your left hand, and sure enough, there was a pretty ring on your finger. You lifted it up to show him. “Looks like you were two steps ahead of yourself”

“Oh, good.” He chuckled. “At least there’s that.”

Then, there was a knock at the door.

You looked at Steve with wide eyes and nervousness building up in your tummy at the thought of being in the same room with one third of the Avengers.

“I’ll get it” He reassured you, standing up to answer the door.

Before you knew it, Tony Stark confidently barreled into the room. Firing some teasing words at Steve, you knew the poor guy would never hear the end of it.

“Oh look, here she is!” Tony announced.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Stark.” You shook his hand.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine Mrs. Rogers.” He smiled.

“Tony” Steve warned with a glare.

“Where’s the paper work?” Tony asked.

You quickly handed him the picture and the signed document that was on the table. Steve stood right next to you as you both watched him read over it, and evaluate the legitimacy.

Tony took out his phone snapped a few pictures, and made a weird face. Nervously, you his your face in Steve’s arm and he instinctively rubbed your back to comfort you.

Then, Tony started laughing. “Rogers you’re an idiot.”

“I’m aware, but what’s so funny?” Steve complained.

“It’s fake.” Tony said.

“What?” Your head popped up.

“Little white chapel, married by Elvis just for the gag type of thing. There’s no marriage license, it’s not a legal marriage.” He explained, handing you the papers back.

Both you and Steve let out a huge sigh of relief. “Maybe I’m not that much of an idiot after all.”

“No, you’re still stupid.” Tony denied. “Out of all the people in the world I would’ve never expected this from you, Cap.”

“This is Thor’s fault.” Steve pointed his finger.

You didn’t understand how the god of thunder had anything to do with this, but you had no mental capacity left to even ask.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. Just be on time for the flight home and stay out of trouble.” Tony told him. “Hope to see you around again soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

And just like that, he was out faster than he came in.

“I know Tony made it seem like everything is okay, but it’s not and I have a giant mess to clean up with the team.” Steve explained to you.

“Yeah, I’d assume so.” You smiled.

“Which means I really should go.” He let you down. “But regardless of this fiasco, and from what I do remember, I had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you want to exchange phone numbers and maybe hang out again when we get home?”

“I would love that, Steve.” You agreed.

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours. Both putting in your phone numbers and names before swapping them back.

At the same time, you both burst out laughing at the contact names.

Unplanned, he put his name as Husband, and you put yours as Wife.

“Ridiculous!” You laughed, walking him to the door.

“Maybe we really were meant to be.” Steve pondered.

“Maybe.” You agreed. “But in all seriousness, thank you for getting me home safe last night. I was really lucky to run into the right person at the right time.”

“Of course.” Steve grinned. “Travel safe, and let me know when you get home so we can set something up.”

“You got it.” Rocking up on your tippy toes, you kissed his cheek. “Have fun cleaning up that mess, Husband.”

“Don’t tell your Mom about this, Wife.”

You locked your lips and threw away the key. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧

[mariswxts]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐘𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.ᐟ

Y’know, you’d think said ‘group of extraordinary individuals’ would work together better, but guess not.

Currently everyone was at each others’ throats, which wasn’t great when everyone here was some form of superhuman (except Nat) and could blow the place sky high. This definitely was a step up from ‘45– but as a certified Brooklyn baby, Steve wasn’t exactly stranger to a guy sizing up to him and telling him to back down from a fair fight.

He was a stranger to being taller than said guy, though.

“You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.” Tony scoffed, squaring up to him and looking at him like he was gnat under his way too expensive shoe.

Well, was Steve one to back down? Absolutely not. “Put on the suit, let’s go a few rounds.”

Before the two men could step to each other again, you inserted yourself between them, but you only really put a hand on Tony to get him to back off a little, firmly holding him in place. “Boys, boys, let’s— just keep the testosterone at a normal level, alright?”

“Funny you say that,” Tony turned on you now, raising his eyebrow and gesturing to all of you before practically swatting your hand from his chest in a way that almost had Steve lunging, “aren’t you Stars and Stripes’ lapdog or something? Seriously, I’ve never seen you anywhere but by his side.”

Steve started. “Watch your tongue—”

Your hand on his chest stopped him before he could tackle Stark, and your own eyes turned steely as you faced the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. “You listen to me carefully, son.” You bit back with a low voice. “The only thing I really respect about you is your dad. Call me a lapdog, but if I got the chance this lapdog would punch you through two walls and not break a sweat— I’ve been putting dicks like you through ‘em for no short of seventy years.”

“God damn.” Natasha muttered under her breath.

Then something exploded, and everyone fell over, the entire helicarrier going off kilter, Steve’s hand shooting out to stop your head from banging against the floor. He turned to Tony, eyes wide.

“Put on the suit.” He urged.

[ronearoundblindly]

He Needs the Calories

It's just silly Steve Rogers fluff based on my favorite joke this holiday...

Summary: Steve has his own tradition the night before the Fourth.

Entirely, utterly stupid, and I don't care because it made me smile. Enjoy! WC ~1k

"What the hell is all this?" you screech at Steve, finding an eleventh gallon bag of cookies tucked in a basket at the bottom of the pantry. "Why do you have a metric ton of...what? Sugar cookies? Cutouts, snickerdoodles, thumbprints? My god, what are you doing? Running your own bake sale?"

Steve's eyes shift guiltily from where you stand to the fridge and back.

You drop the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip treats and step backward to open the french doors.

"What's in here, Steve?"

"Nothing," he rushes.

"What's in the fridge, Steve?!"

He jumps to push the door shut before you can peak in. "It's not a big deal, ok? You don't wanna see."

This is starting to feel like the end of the movie Seven. What's in the cold box?! What's in the box, man?

Steve might be clearly ashamed and hoping you give up, but he uses no force to stop you. His bright blue eyes simply plead for your understanding.

Crammed into the tallest shelf are five--count 'em, five giant pitchers of...milk.

It's not store containers though; they're the type you make your own drinks in.

"Wha...."

You look at Steve, confused.

"It's a joke," he starts to explain.

"Are you taking a milk bath for your supple skin?" you snip.

"No. In the compound," Steve tsks back. "You know, like Santa. Ha-ha, leave out milk and cookies for the patron saint of Independence Day, ha-ha...or whatever."

He looks at his feet.

"So they give you the milk and cookies on the Third."

"I--uh--I wait until the compound closes and people go home, and then I collect the stuff from all the little break rooms and waiting areas. Employees' children come in to specifically to set up the plates."

He rolls his hands around as if that settles things.

"It's cute."

"So you bag up hundreds of cookies from fifty rooms in the building, pour glass after glass of milk into pitchers, and then hoard them like the freaking Cookie Monster in the apartment...You know you don't have to consume all of this, right?"

Steve balks at the mere suggestion. He's appalled.

How. Dare.

"What? I'm not gonna throw them away. That's such a waste! The kids would be so disappointed."

"Then you share them, Steve. You put them somewhere the adults can help you finish them off. You do not eat twenty-five pounds of butter and sugar and flour in one single day."

He shrugs, defiant in his plucking of one full gallon bag back from the pantry and reaching past you for a pitcher.

"I'll run a little extra," he mutters with a pouting lip. "I need the calories."

That's the last, laughable thing the big guy says before shutting himself in a room, snacks in hand.

Well, you think, it's oddly fitting that the patron saint of America is a glutton.

A/N: Look. I warned you it was stupid. I also warned you that I did not care BWAHAHAHA

Happy Birthday, Steebie 😘

🍪🥛🍪

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

pre-serum Steve and post-serum Steve so she can compare

now that’s an idea

smut warning!!

You’re ninety percent sure the man you’re looking at right now isn’t your boyfriend.

He looks like him. Still smells like him. He talks like him, walks like him.

But he’s… different.

He’s tall. He’s broad. He’s got so much muscle you’re not sure where to look. Your boyfriend was scrawny, skinny, small in stature with a huge heart. The man in front of you is… massive.

“Steve?”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

He sounds the same. But this doesn’t just happen. When he left this morning, he was 5 foot nothing and barely 100 pounds. He’s returned looking like some kind of superhero.

“You’re… you look so… I don’t -”

“I know, baby. I know.”

Your jaw is still dropped open, unable to find the words.

“I’ll explain everything,” he justifies. “It’s… complicated. But I promise, I will tell you everything.”

“Okay,” you whisper, struggling to make your voice any stronger. “Everything, Steve.”

You look at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. You don’t know what comes over you suddenly, but whatever it is, it’s primal.

You jump into Steve, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him like your life depends on it. It’s filthy, all teeth and tongue and jagged edges. He wraps himself around you, hands finding the bare skin of your back under your shirt.

The groans he releases into your mouth are low and honeyed and grumbled, completely unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him. You can’t get enough, fingers tangling in his t shirt to pull him closer.

He picks you up by the back of your thighs with ease, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes you up against the wall. You’re dizzy, lightheaded with confusion at the entire situation - but you can’t deny that the warmth running through your veins is clouding everything. You stop questioning for a second, and give yourself over to Steve.

“I’ll explain,” he murmurs against your neck as he trails open mouthed kisses into your skin. “After I take you to bed. Okay?”

You nod, tilting your head to give him better access. Steve pulls away to gaze at you all dreamy.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” you whisper. “Now take me upstairs. Please.”

[brunchable]

When Zac Was Born 《Canon to Lazarus Serum》

Pairings: New Born Dad, Steve Rogers x His Newborn Son Summary: The first time Steve held his son after Y/N gavebirth in the hospital. A/N: This is been sitting in my drafts for waaaaay too long, didn't want it to rot.

Steve Rogers stood in the quiet hospital room, his newborn son nestled in his arms. The soft glow from the bedside lamp bathed the room in a gentle light. Y/N was fast asleep, exhausted but peaceful, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths. She had given everything in the delivery room, and now she rested, trusting Steve to keep watch over their little miracle.

Zac Anthony Rogers.

Steve looked down at his son, still marveling at the small, warm weight cradled against his chest. His son looked so tiny in his arms, almost too small to believe. Steve’s large hands, roughened from years of battle, now felt clumsy and oversized as he held the fragile little boy. The baby's head fit perfectly in the palm of Steve's hand, his body barely taking up any space in Steve’s muscular arms. How could something so small already hold so much of his heart?

The baby shifted slightly, his face scrunching up in sleep before settling again. Steve chuckled softly. Even though he was wrapped tightly in a blanket, snug and secure, the baby was still so small, so vulnerable, like he could be swept away by the world at any moment if Steve didn’t keep him safe.

"Hey there, little man," Steve whispered, brushing a thumb gently over his son’s soft cheek. The baby’s skin was impossibly delicate under his touch, so smooth it seemed unreal. "It’s me, your dad."

The word still felt new to him—Dad. Steve had been a soldier, a hero, a leader—but this? This was something else entirely. 

This was a love and responsibility that nothing could prepare him for. And yet, somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to have his son in his arms, even if his boy looked so tiny, so small compared to Steve’s solid frame.

The baby made a soft, contented noise in response, and Steve’s heart melted. He pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead, marveling at just how small and fragile his son felt against him. His eyes flicked over to Y/N, and he smiled softly at her. She had done so much to bring this little boy into the world, and Steve couldn’t have been prouder of her strength.

Just then, the soft shuffle of footsteps caught Steve's attention, and he looked up as a nurse entered the room. She gave him a kind smile, clearly seeing the awe in his eyes.

"How’s everything going?" she asked in a gentle whisper, glancing at Y/N asleep and then at the baby in Steve’s arms.

Steve smiled back, his gaze dropping to his son. "I still can’t believe it."

The nurse nodded, stepping closer to peer at the baby. "He’s a beautiful boy. You’re doing great, Dad."

Dad. There was that word again. It still sent a thrill through him.

The nurse hesitated for a moment, then tilted her head thoughtfully. "Would you like to try some skin-to-skin contact with him? It’s great for bonding, and he’ll love hearing your heartbeat up close."

Steve blinked, taken aback by the offer. Skin-to-skin? That was something he knew Y/N had done earlier with their son, but he hadn’t considered that he could do it too. He glanced down at the tiny bundle in his arms, his son so small, so new, and then back at the nurse, feeling a flicker of uncertainty.

"I—uh, is it okay for me to do that?" he asked, his voice soft and unsure.

The nurse smiled warmly, nodding. "Absolutely. Skin-to-skin is important for dads too. It helps the baby feel safe and secure. Plus, it’ll be a moment just for the two of you."

Steve looked down at his son again, the idea slowly settling in his heart. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

"Yeah. I’d like that."

The nurse helped him carefully unwrap the baby from the blanket, and then Steve shrugged off his shirt, feeling a bit awkward but excited. His bare chest felt cool against the air, but as soon as his son was placed against his skin, everything changed. The warmth of his tiny body, the soft weight, the way the baby’s cheek pressed gently against him—it all hit Steve like a tidal wave.

He held his son close, his large hands gently supporting the baby’s head and back. His son looked even smaller now, his tiny body barely covering Steve’s chest, like he could be lost in the broad expanse of Steve’s torso. The baby’s fingers, so tiny they could barely wrap around Steve’s thumb, twitched slightly, his breaths steady and calm.

Steve’s eyes welled up with tears he hadn’t expected, his lips trembling. He looked down at the tiny boy resting against him, so small, so vulnerable, and yet, so perfect. He had never felt more connected to anyone in his entire life. Every protective instinct he had surged forward, and he knew in that moment he would do anything—anything—to keep this little boy safe.

"Hey, buddy," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It’s just you and me now. You’ve got no idea how much I love you already."

The baby stirred slightly, a soft coo escaping his lips, as if responding to his father’s words. Steve smiled, his heart swelling even more. He could feel the baby’s warmth against his skin, and in that moment, everything else in the world seemed to disappear. There was no sound, no movement—just Steve and his little boy, heartbeats syncing as they shared this precious, intimate moment.

Steve shifted his gaze to Y/N, who was still asleep, and a wave of gratitude washed over him. He owed everything to her—this moment, this joy, this life. He couldn’t wait for her to wake up, to see the three of them together as a family. But for now, this was his moment. Just him and his son, who fit so perfectly in his arms despite being so tiny.

“I’m going to be here for you, always,” Steve murmured, his lips brushing the top of his son's head. “No matter what happens, no matter how tough things get... I’ll be here.”

He gently rocked the baby, who was now deeply asleep against his chest. The room was filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, a peaceful rhythm that Steve could have stayed in forever.

The nurse smiled at the sight of the two of them, her voice soft as she spoke. “You two make quite the pair. You’re a natural.”

Steve nodded, though he barely heard her. He was too lost in the feeling of his son resting so trustingly against him, his tiny body rising and falling in time with Steve's.

“I’ll take care of him,” Steve whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. “For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of him.”

And in that quiet hospital room, with his son nestled against him, Steve Rogers realized that no battle he’d ever fought could compare to the journey he was about to begin. Being a father—being this little boy’s dad—was the greatest mission of his life.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Fluffy Headcanons ❤️ | Sam Wilson

Marvel Masterlist

Note: Okay I might be in a small percentage but I actually enjoyed CA:BNW! I love Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie and I love him as Captain America. Although I wasn't too on board with Marvel the last couple years, I'm pretty excited for this next phase and can't wait to see Sam lead the Avengers for Doomsday 🥹 Sam Wilson you are my Captain America !!!

Being in a relationship with Sam Wilson/Captain America would look like:

Sam is a very attentive partner. He makes sure your needs are met and that you never have to question his feelings toward you. Whether that be communicating it in words, or showing you through actions, you feel Sam's love every second of every day. 

It's not always easy being the partner of Captain America and you knew that going into the relationship. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a date or redirect a planned occasion for an anniversary because the fate of the world is at stake. But Sam always makes it up to you, and who are you to turn down an all-paid trip by the government as a thank you to your superhero love. "Baby, I know I missed your birthday because of aliens invading, but how do you feel about spending the next two weeks in Bora Bora?" "You won't be on call will you?" "No, the others will handle any shit that goes down while we're gone." "I'll go pack."

During football season you can bet your house is the place to be when the Saints are playing. Sam will get the barbeque going and you'll be in charge of the side. Bucky will supply the alcohol, because even though he's a Giants fan he still is y'all's best friend and he never misses a Wilson Family Party.  You can also expect the Saints to give you two season tickets to their home games and field access. Sam is like a little kid the first time you guys are invited--you even have a video on your phone of him and his nephews 'scoring' a touchdown. 

We know Sam is a big fan of Marvin Gaye and Sunday nights are spent cuddling on the couch to watch a movie before eventually Sam puts on a record and brings you to the middle of the living room floor to dance. You'll be giggling into his chest as he spins you in the air, dipping back to kiss your lips, and being in your own little world. "Did I tell you Steve loved this album after I recommended it to him? I knew he'd like it. Bucky didn't--can you believe that shit?" 

You sometimes have to force Sam to go to bed because he tends to work late at nights. Tracing one last lead, responding to one more email. It worries you when he pushes himself to the limits and therefor you have to smack some sense into him every once in a while. "Baby, you won't be able to save America if you drain yourself like this. You need to rest--I promise you that can wait till the morning." 

Joaquin Torres is basically your adopted child. He is constantly over at your house, eating your food, watching a sports game with Sam or staying over because the two were working on a mission and lost track of time. You adore the kid (he's literally in his late 20s), and love that Sam has someone out there looking out for him. With Bucky off with the Thunderbolts, Steve retired, and the Avengers still yet to come together, Sam needs a wingman--and Joaquin is someone he'd risk his life for. 

You are close with Isiah Bradley and send him holiday cards every year as well as on his birthday. Whenever you and Sam are on the East Coast you make time to visit Isiah and his grandson in Baltimore. When the Ravens and Saints play against each other there's gonna be some playful rivalry between y'all. And when the Ravens win, Sam receives a "Better luck next time," text with a raven gif (which you taught Isiah how to send). 

His love languages are acts of service (are we surprised) and words of affirmation. These can both be applied to giving and receiving, because yes Sam knows how to give a great pep talk to those who need it, but also he needs some affirmation as well. Whenever he's feeling down or starts doubting himself, you're right there to remind him that he is what the world needs. He is Captain America.

Let's face it, you and Sam are the life of the party when there's an event. If there's a dancefloor and a DJ, you two are running there the second your favorite songs start playing and it's causing the rest of the guests to form a circle around you two. You're hyping each other up, dancing like maniacs, and don't give a damn about what others think. But you will see a "Captain America throws it down on dancefloor with partner," headline on the news the next day and you guys are trending on all social media platforms. 

Sam never keeps secrets from you about his job. He knows better than try to hide things from you especially if his life is in danger or you are a potential target. After the Accords fiasco, where you literally ripped him a new one for getting sent to the Raft, he would rather face Thanos again with all six infinity stones than face you at your wrath. "If you ever pull that shit again, Sam Wilson, it's not the government you'll need to worry about coming after you ass."  Yeah, he's taking that risk. 

Every weekend you guys take the boat out and will have a picnic while you see if you catch anything. Sometimes the boys will join you, other times it's just the two of you. You'll bring a speaker to play music and enjoy the peacefulness of the open water---a rare feat as Sam's life now that he's Captain America is always constant action. It pains him to leave you for long periods of time, but coming back and having moments as simple as catching fish in his family's boat, that's what he looks forward to the most.

[buckyalpine]

Spicy Snacks

Bucky x reader, Steve 

Warnings: 2 high super soldiers who get into your stash of spicy snacks, fluffff 

“Dear god” 

You weren’t sure what it was you were going to walk into when you heard a ruckus in the kitchen but it was everything but this. Literally anything. The last time you’d seen such a mess was when Peter thought it’d be a good idea to babysit Morgan alone. Even that was salvageable. You should’ve known how bad it would be, given the trail of crumbs you followed from your drawer to the kitchen, but still. 

This was something else...

There were snacks strewn about left, right and center. Bags of chips and candy littering every inch of the counter tops. 

But what truly topped it all were the two massive super soldiers sitting cross cross apple sauce on top of the kitchen island, giggling like school children with their hands, literally in the cookie jar. 

“Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar” Steve sang to himself while stuffing a chocolate chip one into his mouth, practically swallowing it whole. 

“Steve stole the cookie from the cookie jar” Bucky snickered, taking the jar for himself and scarfing them down two at a time. 

“Who me?”

“Yes you!”

“Not me!”

“Then who?” 

“What are you two idiots doing” Your voice broke them away from their nursery rhyme, staring at your boyfriend first before turning to his bestfriend, the both of them trying to hide the jar behind their backs. 

“Nothing’ y/n” Steve gave you a dopey grin, his baby blue eyes glazed like donuts, snickering at his bestfriend attempting to stab an apple juice box with the straw.

“S’too hard!!” Bucky whined, sticking his tongue out in concentration, eyes wide, trying to get his straw in to no avail, looking back up to you for help. He gave you his most innocent puppy pout hoping you’d help him, sticking his hands out for you to take his juice. 

“Bucky get down” You huffed, trying to hide your smile when he clambered down like an admonished child with his head hung. You rolled your eyes, pushing the straw and giving it back to him, shaking your head at the grin he gave you, whispering a shy thank you. 

“Ooooooo you like herrrrrr” Steve howled, now kicking his feet, letting them hang off the counter while Bucky blushed, peeking at you through his lashes. “BUCKY HAS A CRUSH” 

“Nooooo” He drawled out, taking a long sip from his juice box. 

“We’ve been dating for 2 years you dork” You watched his cheeks redden more, which only made him more adorable but you weren’t sure how much more nonsense was going to ensue when the both of them were higher than kites. 

“She’s my girlfriend” Bucky giggled at the last word, now struggling with a new box while Steve’s eyes lit up, a classic God awful captain America plan had bean to manifest itself. He slipped off the counter, the effects of the gummies and whatever else he’d swallowed had knocked his agility off its rockers; he moved with the grace of a donkey. 

“Where are you going” you stopped him before he could sneak off, your boyfriend looking equally guilty. 

“Noooowhere” Steve shrugged but you gave him a pointed look while Bucky flailed his hands, hoping to silently communicate they were not about to do something idiotic. 

“Sit down. Finish your snacks and then you both need to go take a nap” You felt like you were talking to toddlers, not bothering to add they had to clean their mess because you were sure that would only end in more chaos. 

“But we were gonna go flying with Sam’s wings!” 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this” You muttered to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose before speaking again, “No. You can’t just go take Sam’s wings and go flying. Now finish your juice boxes and go to bed” 

“NOOOO” Steve jumped onto Bucky, wrapping his long legs around his waist, holding onto him like a massive koala, giving you his best puppy eyes, matching his equally ridiculous best friend. “WE DON’T WANNA GO TO BED” 

“Boys....”

“Please???” Bucky pouted effortlessly holding the captain up while your face scrunched up, mentally face palming yourself.

“No. No, you cannot go flying! You’ll end up hurting yourself or breaking the wings or- for fucks sake what are you doing?!” You gawked; Steve and Bucky had stopped listening many moons ago. They were back to rummaging for food, a stray sour patch kid falling to the floor. 

“5 second rule” Bucky shrugged, bending over to pick it up, not seeing the smirk that crossed his bestfriends face. 

“Chubby dumpling” Steve whispered, giving Bucky’s ass a poke, making him yelp. Bucky stared at him like a deer in headlights while Steve cackled to himself, tossing back another packet of nerds into his mouth. You were to engrossed at the scene in front of you to notice Tony walk in, his face equally perplexed at yours. 

“What it God’s name” Tony stared at the chaos that was taking place with you in the middle, “Do I even want to ask?”

“They got into my stash of....snacks...” You smirked while Tony cocked an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“Snacks, y/n? Really?”

“...Spicy snacks”

“Who would’ve thought this would be their downfall” He mused beside you “Oh-I think clothes are coming off-oh fuck” Tony ducked while Steve's shirt flew above his head, eyes growing wide when a pair of jeans followed.

“It’s so hot!!” Steve huffed, star fishing on the cool tile floor, arms and legs splayed out to the sides. “Soooo hottttt, n’I’m sleepy now” He yawned, stretching out like a cat before closing his eyes, a sugar crash sneaking up on them.  

“Okay, someone call for this ones bromantic partner to figure this out” Tony covered his eyes while calling for Sam, hoping to get Steve into some clothes before hauling him back to his room. “Y/n, I’m assuming you got terminator covered?” 

“Yeah, I- Oh no” you were met with your boyfriends Henley, followed by his joggers, landing on your head, squealing when you found yourself hanging off his shoulder seconds later. 

“Buck, where are we going?!” He mumbled something while making his way to the elevator in just his boxer briefs. 

“S’nap time” he mumbled sleepily, trudging with you to the bedroom and plopping down on top of you, using your chest as a pillow. “wan cuddles” 

“Mhm, then you get cuddles, baby boy” you giggled, carding your fingers through his hair, unable to stop smiling from how ridiculously adorable he was. He let out a content sigh, softly snoring moments later. You bit you lip to keep your laughs down, hearing the commotion outside your room in the hallway. 

“Steve, you need to put on pants”

“Pants are for the WEAK”

“No-Steve NO!-don’t take off your-for fucks sake” 

“THIS IS AMERICAS ASS”

“That’s America’s cock and balls” 

“Please, for the love of God, go to your room” 

“I’M GOING TO MAKE A TIKTOK” 

“Steve no”

“Steve yes”

“STEVE” 

“What’s the live feature” 

*Sounds of Steve shrieking and then a thump with continued muffled pouting*

“You’re never eating spicy anything again” 

[buck-star]

Heated training | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You’re training with Steve but when he is distracted and you push him down once again things become heated.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2.364

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, semi public sex, tiny bit angst, fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hiiii! Could you write a Steve x reader where they’re training and she’s like having to tackle him and straddle him and he gets a boner and things get heated and ya know some smut and maybe the reader is Tony’s daughter and somehow word gets out that something happened and there’s some angst in there. Hope you’re okay writing this, thank you !!❤️ @myersmaniac

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and hope you like what I made with it.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | N1 | semi private sex | @fandom-free-bingo | MCU Kink Bingo | N3 | Free Square | @mcukinkbingo

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

It’s nothing new that the tall and muscular super soldier has a huge crush on you. He always takes care that his hair looks good and that he is shaved, loving the moments you look at him with a smile on your lips. The way you talk to him, when you need to look up because you’re so small compared to him. It’s at least nothing new to him that he is in love with you; he can’t even remember for how long he has already been in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you or anybody else something about it. Not only because you’re Tony Stark's daughter, but also because he doesn’t want to ruin things the two of you have — the wonderful friendship he appreciates.

Steve loves to work with you, spend time with you, or just be close to you. Also, when he can’t touch you in the way he would like to do it, even when he can’t feel your lips all over his body or just cuddle with you in the way he would like, he still enjoys when the two of you laugh and spend time together. Whenever you look at him with those shining eyes and the most adorable and sweet smile on your lips, he loves to hear you laugh, especially when he is the reason for it. He could look at you for hours, admiring you.

“Rogers! Concentration! Otherwise, she tackles you down immediately, again.”

He rolls his eyes over Nat’s comment, even though she is right. You have tackled him down in just a short time since he seems too deep in his thoughts today. He doesn’t really train; it’s more staring at you, trying to grip your wrists before you throw him down, but he often fails to grip your wrists and lands on the ground in no time. Steve’s cheeks are red, and sweat runs all over his face and along his neck. His broad chest and defined abs are covered in sweat as well, his skin softly glistening in the light of the training room.

“Yeah- yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes before he grips your fist and tries to push you down.

But Steve gets distracted by your lips — your beautiful plumb lips, which are slightly parted — and your eyes, which shine like the stars at night. He gets lost in your eyes, and a moment later he feels the mattress underneath his back. You’re sitting on top of him with a big smirk on your lips. You don’t miss the way he looks at you — the way his eyes are focused on your lips and his eyes are slightly darkened. You feel a tingle on your skin when he touches you, but you try not to focus on it during training; otherwise, you both would just stare at one another.

“Sorry guys, Clint is calling. You both don’t mind me picking up?” Natasha asks, already walking out of the door.

Steve, and you look after her. When the door shuts, Steve tries to wiggle you off of him, trying to turn the two of you around, but you grip his fists and press them above his head into the mattress. Moving a bit on top of him to have a better position to hold him in place.

“What stole your concentration today, huh?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“N—nothing,” he replies breathlessly, trying to free his hand out of your tight grasp.

You narrow even more and cause your nose to slightly scrunch. Steve chuckles, using the moment of your confusion to free his hands, and tries once again to turn the two of you around. Steve thrusts his hips up, his hands finding their way to your hips. His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants, holding it tightly before he lifts you up. But he hasn’t thought you would jump and let yourself fall down back on him, landing perfectly on his growing bulge in his pants and causing both of you to moan.

Steve's eyes widen immediately, and thoughts run through his mind to find an excuse why his dick is hard. When you look into his wide eyes, you’re just as big as his, gasping about the sudden feeling between your thighs.

“F— Sorry,” he mumbles, blushing slightly.

“Why do you have your phone? No, your keys are in your pocket?” You ask, confused, why he thought of putting it out of his pocket before you two started the training.

“I— That’s not my phone nor my key,” he admits quietly.

You narrow, tilting your head slightly to the side, until you realize what’s pressing against your soaked pussy. It doesn’t feel bad at all, but you didn’t know he felt that way for you, or at least he wouldn’t get a hard on during training. But you straddle him for a few minutes already, so it’s understandable that he gets hard when he is attracted to you and when you move in his cock.

You slowly move your hips, feeling his length rubbing against you. Maybe you should get off of him, but it feels too good to do so, so you’re moving slowly, looking deep into his eyes while you wait for Steve to stop you from grinding against him when he doesn’t like it. But he gasps and digs his finger more into your covered skin, helping you grind on his cock.

“Princess, we—we can’t.”

“Why not? Don’t you like it?” You ask, pouting while you stop your movements on his growing dick.

“I love it— I—I love you, but—“

His eyes widen even more when he realizes what he just said. His cheeks heat up, and he opens his mouth to form an apology, but there is nothing he has in mind to say. He’s adorable when he is shy and slightly embarrassed — not that you like seeing him embarrassed around you, just that his lips are slightly parted, his blue eyes look so lovely but at the same time unsure, and his red cheeks — just hot and cute at the same time. First he got hard while training, and now he told you he loves you; he would face palm himself when his hands wouldn’t be clued to your waist, not wanting to let go of you because you could move away from his cock.

Your smirk grows when you lean closer, your lips just an inch away from his, and you can feel his warm breath on your sweaty skin. Steve closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he lifts his head and breaks the distance between your lips. His soft, pink lips move perfectly against yours, and he licks over your lips to ask for access. You’re parting your lips, and you're deepening the kiss until both of you need to pull away to breathe deeply.

“I love you too. Please— I need you, Stevie,” you mumble, moving your hips harder on his covered cock.

Steve groans, throwing his head back and giving you more space to kiss and bite into the soft skin of his neck. You lick a strap along his neck, chasing him to close his eyes and thrust his hips up. His bulge presses more against your covered pussy, and you moan softly.

“Everyone could see us!” He breathes heavily, looking through his lashes at you.

You sit up and smirk when your hands slide over his broad chest, and you start moving your hips at a fast but steady pace over his dick. He is panting underneath you; with his hands, he helps you to move on top of him, pushing you further down to cause more friction.

“S—Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper.

The tip of his cock is hitting your clit with every thrust, and you push both of you closer to your edge. He didn’t know it could feel that good without being inside of you, but it does, and he is just as close as you.

“Tell me we’re going to get in your room and do it again; tell me you’re mine,” Steve says, slowing your hips down.

Pre-cum is soaking his pants, and he just wants to push you more on his cock and guide you over it to make both of you come, but he wants to hear that you’re his.

“So possessive, huh?” You ask, teasingly.”

His answer is just a harsh movement of his hips. You moan and throw your head back, trying to move faster, but he stops you with his grasp.

“S— Stevie. We can do it as often as you want; I’m yours— I’m all yours, but please let me come,” you whine.

Steve grins, moving your hips faster on his dick and bringing you closer to the edge. It doesn’t take long for the two of you until you’re coming, clenching around nothing while Steve is soaking his pants with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily and calming down from your high when you hear someone coming back into the room.

“G— What are you two doing, sitting like that and doing nothing?” Tony asks, narrowing.

Steve chuckles, nodding his head. Tony just wants to inform you that you are going to have a meeting, but seeing you on top of Steve, straddling him, wasn’t something he expected to see when he came into the training room. Actually, the two of you are always trying to tackle one another.

“Oke—“ he pauses, nodding his head and inhaling. “Meeting.”

With that, he leaves the room, and you laugh. Your brother’s expression was just too funny. You lean down, capture Steve’s lips, and kiss him softly.

“After the meeting, I’m all yours.”

“You’re already mine, but then we repeat that here without clothes.”

You then get off of Steve. The blond-haired man looks at the wet spot on his pants and smirks when he sees you staring at his covered cock. You both take a shower because you get ready for the meeting Tony told you about — next mission, which isn’t really interesting for you since you only have your eyes on one another.

Steve and you have been secretly dating for a few weeks now. You often spend time together, which isn’t new to see for the others. Even when you smile in another way, your gazes are different — happier — but no one really asks about it. They are just happy that Steve and you are happy — still thinking you’re best friends.

When Tony asks you to come into his office because he wants to talk with you, you have a huge smile on your face. When you knock at the door and swing it open, you freeze immediately. Steve is sitting there in front of your father, who looks angry, and you swallow hard. The smile fades away, and you look slightly confused.

“Come in and close the door.”

You do as you’re told; you close the door behind you and walk toward the men, letting yourself fall down next to Steve on a chair. Tony looks at you before he moves to face Steve; he then points at the monitor on the desk in front of you.

When your father turns on the video, you gasp, your eyes widen, and your hands get sweaty. You hear Steve inhaling deeply next to you. He swallows hard and slides down in his chair. The video that Tony is showing of the two of you shows Steve and you making out on the floor before you pull him with you into your room.

You know Tony isn’t a friend of the men around you; he is protective and doesn’t want someone to hurt you. He already made your ex-boyfriend run away because he was afraid of Tony’s Iron Man suit walking without him inside the suit.

“D—Dad, I would say i—it’s not what it looks like what Steve and I did, but it is. B—“

“Rogers!” Tony says, his jaw clenching when he looks at your boyfriend.

“Tony, I—I don’t want to hurt her. I—I love her,” Steve says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, afraid of what your father could say.

Steve sighs, looking down and inhaling deeply. He rubs his hands over his pants and sighs once again before he continues to speak.

“I would never do anything she didn’t want to. Tony, I love her.”

You smile softly, but your body is still tensed, and you don’t dare look at Steve. Tony nods, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk.

“Do you love him?” He asks, looking at you, and you nod, then he turns his face back to Steve. “When you hurt her, I will cut your balls off!”

Steve doesn’t know if he wants to smile or swallow hard, but he smiles, nodding and turning toward you. He places his hand in front of you, waiting until you place yours in his big one before he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your soft skin. Tony rolls playfully with his eyes, watching the two of you when you lean in to press your lips against Steve’s, soft and sweet.

"First, the gentleman an— Get a room!” Tony shouts, and you burst out laughing about the way he raises his eyebrows and grasps the surface of the table.

“We will,” you tell him, smirking when you get up and pull Steve with you.

With a wink at Tony, you make your way to the door of his office, leaving it. Before you can walk further through the floor, Steve pushes you against the wall behind you, attacking your lips with his.

“I love you so much, princess.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

With that, he lifts you up and carries you into your bedroom, continuing what you have seen in the video Tony shows the two of you. And you’re glad he accepts what you have with Steve, because it’s special, and you’re happier than you ever have been since you've been with Steve. He treats you like a princess, like his perfect and sweet princess.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77@bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @pono-pura-vida @princesscore-angel

[sunvmars]

honeybee | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x fem/afab!reader

masterlist

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing- obv. smut & smut implications (nothing hardcore). slightly obsessive steve. occasionally innocent and shy steve rogers deserves its own warning bc…adorable. this also hasn’t been proof read

summary: after two years of knowing you, steve has learned everything about you. you became his best friend, and you, his. steve follows you around simply wanting to please you and do everything for you. finally you make the first move and steve wants to learn how to please you in other ways.

Steven Grant Rogers craves nothing more in this world than to please you in every possible way. Can’t reach something on a high shelf? No worries, he’s there within seconds to help you. And, no, he definitely wasn’t kind of following you. Hungry but don’t feel like making something? Steve would get or make you whatever you wanted and then some- and he’d have it back to you in 30 minutes maximum. You’re sore after a long mission? He’s on it immediately. He gathers every possible muscle cooling crème or oil he can find to give you a back massage. Needless to say, Steve would do anything for you. If you wanted him to hang the moon for you he’d find a way to do it.

Steve’s had romantic feelings for you for forever. However, over the last few months he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to more venereal places. Whenever you curled up against him in your sleep during one of your recent movie nights, all he could focus on was how your backside felt pressed against his groin. While he’s massaging your aching back and legs after training, the only thing he can think of is how he wants to touch every inch of you. Just last week he took you out to get your favorite ice cream, but found himself only capable of paying attention to the way your lips curled around the spoon. He couldn’t help but notice the way your tongue flicked out to quickly lick the leftover sugary treat from your lips.

The feelings were new for Steve. He was well used to how you made his breath catch every time you’re near, but the thoughts he was having of you recently were distasteful in his opinion. No matter what he did in attempt to banish the daydreams, they wouldn’t budge.

Currently Steve was alone in his room and trying to concentrate on his drawing- originally planning to draw a lavender field for you. He knew you loved that he’d gotten back into his previously retired hobby and loved to see your smile when he hands you new artwork. He also knew you’d probably hang it up on your wall with the other pieces he made for you. Not that he’d ever vocalize it but your approval and praise keeps his world spinning. Somewhere in the middle of sketching out the background his mind had shifted.

No longer was he thinking about the beautiful flowers; he was thinking about purely you. All he can manage to think of is how many different ways there are for him to make you feel good. He’s seen things over the years and heard things from Buck that give him a rough idea of how to pleasure you, but he truly still had no clue where to start. Steve yearns for you to teach him everything about your body; he wants to learn where and how to touch you to make you feel the same need for him as he does for you.

The pit of neediness growing in his stomach is quickly replaced with frustration. Steven had felt sexual attraction before of course, but he’d never thought of a woman sexually for this long. He knew he wanted to wait until he was truly in love with someone before he had sex. Although it gives him some peace to know that intimate thoughts come with being in love, not being able to knock the constant want to touch you was aggravating. He knew you were made for him though and it made it worth every irritating thought or confusing feeling. You were his missing piece and he would save himself for you no matter how long he had to wait.

“Steven?” you called from outside the door, knocking gently.

The sudden noise startled him from his thoughts, forcing the growing neediness he felt to the back of his mind. He stood up quietly, walking towards the door after closing his sketchbook. His brain short circuited immediately after opening the door to reveal you. You were all dressed up for Stark’s party tonight and fucking hell you were a vision. The corset dress you’d chosen to wear fit your figure perfectly and the baby blue colored fabric complimented your complexion. Your hair and makeup was done perfectly in Steve’s eyes too. The smile that tugged on your lips when you saw him made his heart flip. When your eyes scanned over him, worry dully visible in your gaze at his silence, he’d tried to spit the words out.

“Y/n,” Steve whispered as he tried to find the right words. “You…you look amazing in that dress. I meant your dress is gorgeous. I’m…shit. I’m sorry,” he manages to say, stumbling over a few words causing him to stutter a bit.

The sound of your giggle eases his nerves and he musters up a smile. He quickly takes another glance over your body before gaining an unexplainable boost of confidence, “you really do look divine in that dress, Honeybee.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” you respond softly as you brush a fallen strand of hair from your face.

Your eyes rake over his body now. His white t-shirt clung to his muscular figure, showing off his biceps and toned abs. The black sweatpants he wore often now showcased an obviously growing bulge. For a second he feels his breath quicken under your gaze.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the party? It might be fun, Stevie.”

A sigh escapes his parted lips and he shakes his head, “no, no. I’ll be okay here. I’m not feeling great today.”

“Anything I can do to help? What’s bothering you?”

Your head tilted as your fingers grazed his jaw gently. He tensed up momentarily at the sudden touch but relaxed almost immediately. Steve practically melted at your soft touch; a touch so caring and gentle.

“I’m alright, but thank you. It’s just a headache.”He takes your hand away from his jaw to bring it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I hope you have fun tonight, doll.”

“I’ll try. You should get some rest. You know where to find me if you need me, hm?”

Steve releases your hand with a smile, allowing your arm to rest back by your side. You’d left once you reassured him that you’d call if you needed him.

Steve went back to his drawing after awhile, deciding to watch a movie after finishing the piece. Unbeknownst to him, you were tiring of the party- social battery draining by the minute. That’s how, only an hour and a half after you left, you had shown up at his door again. Even in pajamas that consisted of just shorts and a tank top you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Your hair was a little ruffled from changing out of your dress and your breathing was slower than normal.

“Are you sleepy?” Steve asks before stepping aside to let you in.

“More than sleepy- I am exhausted,” you sighed. You stepped into his bedroom and shuffled your way towards his bed. After shutting the door, he watched as you crawled into his bed to get comfortable. He smiled softly to himself before sauntering over to you.

“Can I do anything for you, Honeybee?”

“Can we watch a movie?”

“Of course. Anything for you,” he reassures you as he sits down next to you, “I’m only a few minutes into the movie I started. Do you wanna finish it with me or find something else?”

“We’ll just watch it from here.” You sighed again, now too comfortable in Steve’s presence to even worry about the movie and only wanting to curl up next to his warm body.

He lays down on the bed, allowing you to lay however you want. You’d chosen to lay your head on his chest and let his fingers play in your hair. “I appreciate you. I don’t say that enough. You’re my best friend. And you take such good care of me,” you mumbled to the blonde, his chest threatening to muffle what you said. Luckily for him, though, he had heard it.

“I… I’ll always take care of you, pretty girl,” he cooed, “do you need anything else?”

“No. You’re always doing stuff for me. I just want to relax with you.”

He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat at your consideration for him. Steve knew you cared for him, but it only made his heart grow fonder when you expressed it out loud. It was times like these when he felt like more than a friend- like maybe you feel the same fondness for him. But he was never great at picking up on cues with women unless they expressed their intentions directly. In fact, most of his knowledge on women came from Bucky. Buck tries to convince him that you do actually like him the same way, which was true, but Steve would not make the first move and take the chance on mistaking your friendliness for something else.

The first half of the movie seemed to drag on forever. Not because he thought it was boring, rather because the only thing he was paying attention to was your fingernails tracing his abs through his shirt. He’s about to readjust himself under his blanket to hide his growing bulge but then it happens; there’s a nude woman on the screen writhing and moaning under her male counterpart. He feels your body still, your breath comes to a stop for a few seconds, and you squirm a little under the weight of his arm due to the awkwardness of the situation.

The two of you lay there for the entirety of the scene, hoping it’ll be over soon. Realistically it only lasted about a minute, but to Steve it felt like five. It wasn’t the scene unfolding on the tv in front of him that was working him up, no, it was the unpreventable thoughts of reciprocating the actions on you. Not that he had realized like you did, but every few seconds his grip on your hair would tighten. He’d twirl a strand of hair around his fingers and mindlessly tug gently on it. Your thighs pressed together at his touch. A need for him that you tried to get rid of pooled deep down in your stomach. Soon enough the movie was over, both of you remained mostly quiet throughout the rest of the film.

“So…did you like the movie, Honeybee?”

“It was okay,” you lifted your head and smiled up at him.

Steve wishes he didn’t see the sight below him that you’d created. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips parted as you took slow breaths. You’d given him the best view of your cleavage and tempting neck with the way your head was leaned back.

“Are you okay, Stevie?”

“Yes, yeah I’m fine. Just tired, y’know,” he responded with urgency in a desperate attempt to change the subject, “hey, get up for just a second? I have something for you.”

Your head lifts from his chest and your body straightened out as you stretched your limbs. He walked over to his desk, bringing back a piece of paper that looked blank in the darkened room. After taking the paper and looking at it under the tv light, you could see that it was drawing of a beautiful lavender field with a sunset in the distance.

“Oh, Stevie, it’s beautiful,” you smile as you look up at him through your lashes, “you already know this is going on the wall.”

“T-thank you. I’m glad you like it,” he mutters as his confidence is replaced with nerves from your eyes on him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem more scattered than usual. You know you can talk to me, right?”

“It’s nothing, really, I just have a lot going on in my mind. Don’t worry about me.”

“Steven. Talk to me, you’ve been off for the last few weeks. Come, sit,” you smile softly at him to help put him at ease and pat the spot next to you.

Steve plops down on the bed a few inches away from you with a huff. He was being oddly distant and seemed anxious. While he wasn’t the most confident man in the world, he was typically a polite conversationalist or at least was one to fill awkward conversation silence. But with you, even though he was comfortable around you, he couldn’t find that same confidence.

“I’ve just been having a lot of…feelings, I guess, recently.”

You cocked your head to the side, urging him to continue. He obliged.

“I’ve been having sexual thoughts and I can’t get rid of them.”

“Oh.”

The confession shocks you for a moment. He’d never really been one to talk about anything intimate or sexual with you, always blushing whenever you’d make a sexually implied joke. He wasn’t a prude, but he wasn’t outwardly sexual with you either.

“I’m sorry, is it weird to talk about that with you? I don’t want to overstep a boundary.”

“No. It’s okay, really. Whatever thoughts or feelings you’ve been having, I’m sure they’re normal. You can keep talking if you want.” The genuine smile on your face gives Steve all the comfort he needs.

“I want to understand how it works- how it feels, even. Do you think that’s normal?”

Steve looked over at you again, expression laced with hints of curiosity and confusion.

“It is. Most people feel like that; I felt it at some point too,” you confess with a shy smile.

As soon as your approval was vocalized, a wave of relief washed over his features, “can I be honest? There’s this girl, and I want to do…certain things with her. Or to her.”

Curiosity and hints of jealousy plagued your mind. “Stevie! I didn’t know you liked someone. Do I know her?”

“I, uhm,” Steve stops his sentence short as if he’s trying to find the right words. He finally gets the confidence to speak, but all he says is “it’s you.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Your eyebrows furrowed and his gaze met yours after a few seconds. He wanted to respond, to blurt out everything he feels for you. But he couldn’t; he had never been this forward with you. He stood up, starting to feel overwhelmed.

“Oh, Steven.”

“I’ve been in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re so beautiful and sweet. You’re just so…you,” Steve confesses before pausing to glance up at you again, “Y/n, I want to do everything with you- everything for you. But all I’ve ever wanted just as much as I want you is your happiness; so, if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, and I-“

“Steve,” you smile as you place a hand in his, “I love you too.”

It takes everything in him to stop his jaw from going slack. You loved him?

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“Once or twice,” he replies with furrowed brows.

“Do you wanna make it three times?”

He nodded slowly, his heart hammering out of his chest, “O-okay.”

“Don’t be nervous. Do what feels right,” you coaxed him, placing a hand on his cheek.

He took your advice and allowed his body to take over. His hands flew to your waist, fingers squeezing your sides gently as he attached his lips to yours with haste. You threw your arms around his neck and allowed a free hand to get tangled in his hair. His lips worked on yours desperately and slowly. He pulled away to catch his breath but crashed his lips against yours again only a few seconds later. You nibbled gently on his bottom lip and he pulled you closer to him, almost allowing a groan to escape his chest. His kisses grew hungrier as the realization of how badly he needed you set in.

“I want to take care of you. Will you show me how to make you feel good,” he mumbled, gasping for air against your lips. He backed you up onto the bed and held your hips down, caging you in between the soft mattress and his body.

Between his kisses and the butterflies you felt in your stomach, you couldn’t muster up a response. Instead, you chose to return the same neediness in his kisses as your way of saying yes. To have him begging you to let him learn how to please you was more than arousing. The idea was driving you crazy- he was eager to know how to make you feel good. Both of you were panting by the time he pulled away from your lips. His cheeks were tinted pink and his lips were a little swollen.

“Does it feel good if I kiss you here?” Steve inquired before placing firm, open mouth kisses on your neck. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair and you tugged gently on his soft strands. He took the hint to continue kissing down your neck, taking note of the quiet whimpers you were attempting to hide. He’d found a spot on your neck that elicited a moan from you whenever he kissed it. “Please let me hear you again, you sound so pretty,” he purred before dipping down to lick, suck, and kiss that spot again.

You tugged a little too hard on his hair at the sudden pleasure. His hips ground down onto yours instinctively, clothed cock rubbing against your core through your shorts. Steve noticed you shutter at the contact, deciding that it felt good for you when he did that- even if it was an accident. He repeated the action harder this time, now dry humping you with the perfect amount of friction. His thrusting was motivated by your moans and whimpers, only wanting to make you feel the best he could, and you were giving him exactly what he wanted with every gasp that escaped your lips.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect, Steve.”

Steve tightened his grip on your hips and leaned down to place kisses on your lips. “There’s more you can do,” you’d managed to say in between a string of whimpers and his rough kisses, causing him to stop everything he was doing.

“Like what?” The question was rushed, it seemed as if he didn’t want to go a single second without giving you pleasure.

“You can touch me down there, do you know how?”

He shook his head, telling you to continue, “here. Let me get my shorts off and I’ll show-“

“No!”

His change in tone shocked you. The look he had on his face was telling you that it shocked him too. “I’m sorry. I meant I want to undress you- if that’s okay,” he apologizes.

“That’s okay. Go ahead.”

With that he backed off the bed, standing up to pull you towards the edge of the bed. He pulled you as close to the edge as possible that still allowed your legs to rest raised up on the bed. His hands made their way up your thighs tenderly. When he reached the waistband, he paused to look up at you for permission to keep going. You nod at him with a smile and then he’s pulling your shorts off slowly.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he cooed, helping you sit up to take your shirt off. You shrunk under his gaze, throwing your arms up to cover your chest. He frowned at this in worry that he’d made you uncomfortable. He also just wanted to see your bare form again.

“Did I do something wrong, y/n?”

“No, it’s not you. You were just…staring at me.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s not a problem. I’m just not used to it.”

“Well, can I look at you again then..please?”

He once again waits for you to give him permission before moving. You suppress a giggle and give him another reassuring nod. His hands carefully move your arms to place them back at your side as he lays your body back down.

“So pretty,” Steve mumbles against your skin, pressing kisses along your chest. His hands are all over your body. Electricity courses through your body when his lips ghost over your nipple causing you to shudder- you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does. He pauses momentarily to hover his head over your chest and look up at you through his thick lashes, “what do I do?”

Your hand guides his to rest on you breast, “whatever you want. Use your mouth or your hands or-“

He cuts you off by squeezing softly at first to see your reaction; after seeing you squirm and hearing an almost whimper leave your mouth he decides to squeeze again. He squeezes harder, kneading your breast repeatedly as he pulls your other nipple into his mouth. His assault on your chest leaves you an unbearably wet and moaning mess under him. He’s quickly become addicted to your pleasure- he wants to hear you make these noises for him as often as you’ll allow him.

“God, Steve, you’re doing so good at that.”

He tries to hide the nerves he feels at your appraisal. Against his wishes he accidentally allows a whimper to fall from his lips as he pulls away from your nipple.

“You said I could touch you,” he says as he’s rubbing you through your panties. You can feel your wetness sticking to your underwear, now painfully aware of the effect he has on you. His fingers glide over your clit, “said I could touch you here. Right?”

“S-Steve,” you whimper his name softly at his touch.

“What…uhm..how do I touch you?”

“You can use your fingers, or your mouth. Or just do whatever comes natural to you,” you say in attempts to reassure him. However it only earns you a confused look from him. “Do you need me to show you?”

Contentment washes over his face and he nods hurriedly. It’s not that he wants to frustrate you or delay your pleasure but he does want to make sure he’s doing everything right.

“You can start by rubbing softly on my clit. Do you remember the spot you brushed just a second ago?”

“Mhm, the one that made you whimper?”

“Y-yeah, that spot,” you reply softly, taken aback by his newly found confidence, “you could start at my, uhm, entrance too. You can just tease me or put your fingers inside me if I’m wet enough.”

“Wet enough?” Steve questions with furrowed brows.

“When a woman gets, you know, turned on…she gets wet down there to make it less painful during sex. Do you understand now?”

“Oh,” he smiles at you innocently, the pieces seeming to click together, “I understand.”

He moves quickly to pull your panties down your legs. You squeak at the sudden motion and lift your hips up to make it easier for him to pull the fabric off. When he’s gotten your panties off, he lays you back down. He’s got you completely naked in front of him with your legs propped up and thighs spread apart by his strong hands.

“Woah,” he mumbles under his breath- the sight and smell of you intoxicating him. His eyes land on your dripping cunt right in front of him, and, if he didn’t before, he definitely understands what you meant now.

“You are wet. So, so wet. Did I do this?” Steve’s eyes contain nothing but adoration and curiosity as he ghosts his fingertips over your swollen clit. His gaze is glued to you, watching you shiver at his gentle touches.

“Steve, please,” you plead with a voice hardly above a whisper.

“S’not gonna hurt you. You’re..wet enough?”

“Yes, yes I’m wet enough. Please, do something.”

“How do I-“

You cut him off, feeling yourself grow needier, “Steven. Like I showed you earlier. Do anything. Just, please, touch me.”

“Hm, no more questions, got it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be firm with you.“

“I said I’ve got it,” he purred, pressing two fingers to your aching bud.

Your mewled under him as his touch sent heat to your core. Soft fingers circled your most sensitive spot. His name began to roll off your tongue repeatedly. Then his fingers slid from your entrance all the up to your clit to gather your wetness on his fingers and he eased in two fingers. He slowly stretched you out, pumping the digits in and out.

“Oh, honey, you’re so pretty,” he said in awe; the sight of you was making his heart beat out of his chest.

Steve moved his fingers in different ways while sliding them in and out of you. He’d paid special attention to the way your back arched a little and you made the most delicious sound when his fingers curled upwards inside of you. So he kept doing that, softly hitting your g-spot while gliding his fingers out of you. You pout at him when he pulled them out completely.

“Just give me a minute. Okay?”

He brought his fingers to his lips and paused before placing them in his mouth to suck them clean. A smile spread across his face, bringing his fingers down to get them wet again. He brings his coated middle and pointer finger to your lips this time and urges you to open your mouth.

“Steve,” you whine.

“You taste good, want you to know how good you taste,” he says with that same innocent smile.

Your lips part, allowing him to place his fingers on your tongue. You swirl your tongue around them and Steve bites back another whimper. He pulls his fingers from your mouth once they’re clean then leans down to place a needy kiss to your lips, tongues swirling together in your mouth. It takes all of him to pull away from you, murmuring “I have to taste more of you,” when he finally does.

He places himself so his face is only inches away from your cunt. He’s not sure why but he can smell your arousal. While your scent is intoxicating, your taste is even more so. His lips place gentle kisses up and down your slit. He drags his tongue between your folds painfully slowly, lapping your juices up with his tongue. You try to buck your hips up into his mouth but he shuts you down and holds your hips in place. A cry comes out when he starts to suck relentlessly on your clit; your back arches as much as his tight hold will allow. He’s eating your soaked pussy like he hasn’t eaten in days- like you’re his last meal. Your moans are music to his ears, he relishes in them.

“S-Steve, you’re so good at that. Fuck,” you whimper and tug at his soft hair.

He hums against your clit to let you know he heard you but all you can focus on is the vibration it sent to your sensitive bud. His tongue goes down to your opening to slide inside of effortlessly. He’s swirling his tongue inside of you, occasionally sliding it in and out. You coat his tongue with your wetness. Your moans have him desperate to hear more, so he goes harder and faster, his tongue roughly exploring your cunt.

“Shit. Fuck, Stevie, ‘m close. You’re doin’ so good,” you praise him as he continues licking and sucking.

Steve represses the urge to ask what you mean by close by choosing to slide a finger into you and suck on your clit. The tension in your stomach builds overwhelmingly fast. He increases his speed when a string of ‘Steve’ and ‘fuck’ falls mindlessly from your lips. That tension overflows as his tongue flicks your clit while he’s sucking on it. Your orgasm shakes your body but Steve doesn’t stop. After a few seconds it becomes overstimulating and you attempt to push his head away from you.

“Hold on,” he mutters, sliding his finger out. His tongue laps at your folds again causing you to squeal, the overstimulation making you giggle. “I’m sorry, you just taste so sweet. Are you okay?”

“I’m alright. You did really good.”

“Thank you..”

His eyes dart around the room nervously before landing on you. The corners of his lips turn up into a smile after he wipes his mouth dry with his hand. You return the smile as a means to comfort him and ease his nerves.

“Will you let me do something for you?”

“Oh… You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to please you,” he mumbles.

“Take your clothes off,“ you say with a smile still on your face.

He freezes for a second but then he stands to undress. You sit up as he slides his shirt and pants off, leaving his boxers for last. His thick, long cock springs up against his toned stomach when his boxers slide down his legs. It takes everything in you not to pounce on him right then.

“You wanna sit? Might be less overwhelming if you do.”

He hums his approval and sits next to you. After peppering kisses on his face and planting a few pecks to his lips, you slide off the bed and onto your knees between his legs.

“If you don’t like anything I do, tell me. I want you to be comfortable,” you say while taking his length in your hand.

The whimper that comes from him from just the smallest touch turns you on an unbelievable amount.

“Don’t think I’d dislike anything you could do to me,” Steve replies, voice almost faltering when you stroke him for the first time.

Your hand is soft and tight around his cock. He’d done this with his own hand a few times when he’d been too pent up, but it was nothing compared to when you did it. With perfect speed you pumped him in your hand. Occasionally your stroking would stop so you could glide a finger around his tip. His body shivers when you lick his shaft from the base to the tip. Then you slide as much of him as possible into your mouth; your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowed out as you suck on him. His hand tangles in your hair and tugs gently. Steve almost comes undone when your hand strokes the bottom of his cock that wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

“O-oh my god,” he groans, the sensation almost too much for him. His hips bucked upwards in attempt to shove his cock deeper into your mouth, “y/n, baby, wait,” he stuttered.

You pull off of him quickly in worry that you’d overstimulated him. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m..uhm…close. But I don’t want to be done yet,” he says with a frown, “feels too good and I want to make you finish again.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweet boy. It’s your first time.”

“But it makes me feel good to take care of you,” he cooed before taking your hand and leading you on top of him, your bare core resting on his throbbing cock.

He pulls your head down so your lips meet his in a passionate kiss. Instinctively your hips roll against his. His lips on yours, tongue fighting for dominance in your mouth, and feeling of his length rubbing against your clit was delicious. He slides between your folds, his tip occasionally teasing your entrance when you move a certain way.

“Want you, Stevie,” your whimper against his lips when he pulls away.

“You have me, sweetheart.”

That same innocent smile he’s flashed many times tonight tells you that he doesn’t understand what you meant. Steven wasn’t dumb by any means, he just wasn’t experienced; you made him nervous too.

“I know. But right now I want you inside of me, if that makes sense.”

Realization shows on his features, brows furrowing only for a moment. “It does,” he declares after a few seconds.

You smile before crawling towards the center of the bed and laying on your back. He waits for you to get comfortable before positioning himself between your legs.

“I’m not gonna hurt you?”

“It’s like earlier, remember? It won’t hurt if I’m wet enough.”

He then dips his fingers down to gently run them through your folds. Steve frowns when he feels that you’re not dripping as you were earlier, “did I do something wrong, Honey? You’re not as wet.”

“It’s nothing you did, I promise. Sometimes you don’t stay wet if you’re not being pleasured or touched.”

As dramatic as it seems, his heart drops. He wasn’t making you feel good the whole time? Did you not enjoy pleasuring him?

“I wasn’t making you feel good?”

“No! You were. It’s just that while I was going down on you, you weren’t touching me, so I just didn’t stay wet. You cleaned me up with your mouth beforehand pretty well too.”

He ponders and almost gets lost in the thought of how his tongue felt buried deep in your warm cunt. “Right. Well I’m going to take care of you every second from now on. I have to make my baby feel good.” He grins as he plants a kiss on your nose.

His tone makes you giggle, the surge of confidence not matching his delivery. “Where’d that come from?”

“It was a poor attempt to be more assertive, you seem to like that.”

You look around the room, trying to avoid his gaze. His observation wasn’t something you expected him to notice. How silly of you to think he wouldn’t notice something about you.

“You do, don’t you? Is that why you didn’t stay wet for me? You like to be handled rough and I’m too innocent for you?” Steve’s questions bore into you and you struggle to conjure up an answer. “Look at me,” he demands, fingers carefully pulling your chin to the side to make you face him, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t say anything but my name.”

Before you can respond he rubs his tip up your warmth. He has to bite his lip when he slides into you to prevent himself from making any noise. His body stills when his cock bottoms out inside of you.

“O-oh,” he sighs softly, “y/n, fuck.”

Once he sees that you’re not hurting he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you. You feel so warm and soft on him and he has to prevent the urge to pound into you relentlessly. He thrusts into you slowly, trying to keep some sort of rhythm but faltering due to the new sensation.

“You’re so… So fuckin’ tight, shit. You feel so good around me, angel.”

After a few seconds he’s able to hold a decent pace. The tip of his cock brushes your g-spot and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“No,” he pulls your face away from him, “want to hear you.”

A whine falls from your parted lips. You feel him throb inside of you and Steve, once again, has to hold himself back when he feels your walls clench around him again. Now it’s become obvious that he’s holding back. His body is tense and his movements are becoming less in sync.

“Steve.”

He ignores you, continuing to fuck into you while placing kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“Steven, stop.”

His motions stop immediately and his eyes frantically scanning you for any sign of distress or pain. When he doesn’t see any, he tilts his head in confusion, “doll? Is everything okay?”

“You tell me,” you press a kiss to his lips before grinding down on him to keep him hard, eliciting a whimper from him, “you’re holding back, Steve. You don’t have to do that with me. You’re not gonna break me”

He ponders for a moment before looking at you again, “are you sure..? I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m going based off instinct but all I want to do is fuck you into this mattress and-“

Your lips attached to his, roughly moving against them, and he melts into the kiss. Slowly he begins to thrust into you again. This time his movements are rougher and harder. His hips start to buck up into you faster, pressure building in your stomach. It only takes about a minute before he’s pounding into you. His pace is unforgiving and you’re a moaning mess underneath him. Your fingernails rake his back, probably leaving bright red scratches, and his disgruntled groans and grunts are only muffled by his lips occasionally attaching to yours.

“You take me so well,” he gasps upon feeling you tighten around him yet again. Reaching a hand down to rub your clit he locks eyes with you, “s’like your tight cunt was made for me, honey.”

His tip hits that same spot again, repeatedly rubbing it. Your body jerks, your back arching off the bed.

"Want me to keep fucking you like this? Am I making you feel good now?" he taunts.

You don’t even manage to get a word out because as soon as he takes note of how to make his cock pound into your g-spot, he does it. You can feel him smirk against your neck before sucking on your collarbone. As if it was possible, his speed increases. A tight knot forms and he presses down to run his thumb over your clit. He leans down to place a rough kiss to your lips, tongue running over your bottom lip begging for entry. You allow it and your tongues tangle together in a sloppy kiss. He pulls out of you abruptly.

“Stevie,” you whine at the loss of contact.

“Get on top of me,” he demands as he lays beside you.

You look at him in confusion at his change demeanor, “but don’t you want to-“

“I wanna see all of you when you come undone on my cock, baby.”

You hesitate for a minute before obeying his wishes. Your legs straddle him, his length prodding your entrance. His hands grip your waist and guide you down onto him. The feeling of his thickness reentering you has you reeling. Steve’s mouth hangs agape momentarily when you’re sat all the way down, a deep grunt forcing it’s way out of him. He uses his grip on your waist to move you around on his shaft- you’re not sure you could’ve moved otherwise anyways.

“I love you, I love you,” he whispers repeatedly like it’s a prayer in between kisses he presses all over your chest.

“I-I love you too. You’re doing so well, making me feel s’good, Stevie,” you coo as you place a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel like..like I’m gonna…,” Steve struggles to piece the words together as you meet his hips, thrusting with him in sync.

“You can cum inside of me. It’s okay. You can let go.”

With your permission, he does just that. Spurts of his hot seed fill your swollen cunt. He throbs inside of you as he empties himself out. He feels you slow down to eventually stop riding him.

“Don’t stop, you’re gonna finish too,” he says through gritted teeth.

His first time and he’s worried about your pleasure too. He’s overworking himself through his first shared orgasm but only focuses on how he can keep making you feel good.

“Steven, stop. You don’t have to keep going.”

Before you could say anything else, he pulls your upper half towards him, careful not to mess up the rhythm at which he was fucking you. His mouth sucks one of your nipples in. His tongue swirls around it, sucking and licking the hardened peace. Then his free hand dips down to rub circles onto your sensitive clit. You whimper and tangle your fingers into his hair to pull on it. You curse under your breath at the overstimulation, feeling your orgasm approach quickly.

“Come on, baby. I know you have another in you,” he urges.

He comes back up to place a rough kiss against your lips while he pounds into you, keeping the same speed and pressure on your clit. The mix of pleasure he was giving you sends you over the edge. You ride out your high while still bouncing slowly on him as he continued to thrust. He watches your face closely so he doesn’t miss a single expression. Steve pulls out slowly but immediately when he hears your almost pained whimpers.

“That’s a good girl,” he purrs.

His hand is brushing your hair back and his lips are peppering soft pecks all over your face. He pulls you off of him to lay you down next to him. Your head rests on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He covers both of you with a spare fluffy blanket he keeps at the end of the bed. You feel warm and comfortable, the contentment of being satisfied was setting in.

“Are you comfortable?”

You frown upon hearing his question, “I’m okay. It was your first time and I didn’t help a lot, are you okay?”

“Oh, honey,” he smiles softly, “I’m more than okay. Thank you for showing me how to make you feel good. I love you, y/n, and I really mean that.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

“You should get some rest. I’m gonna want more of you tomorrow,” you giggle, burying your face in his neck.

He holds you close with a protective arm thrown over you. He sighs to himself in exhaustion.

“My best girl,” he mumbles into your hair, “all mine.”

The pair of you fall asleep a few minutes later. He’s got you held close to him, right where you belong. You’ve had him and now he finally got you all to himself.

[ddejavvu]

captain american with his beefy biceps and trunk of a torso who doesn’t understand why you like to force him into the tiniest shirts possible so you can see them ride up on all of that body!!! please steve rogers save me

no because the shadow of those things??? they've got a side profile!! the shirt goes underneath them!!!!

you took advantage of a department store sale on tshirts for steve but you purposefully sized down one. you pretend that the sales lady just told you the shirts run large at first, but the first one that he tries on barely settles over his chest. It's constricting around his biceps too, and you only hope the fabric is stretchy enough so that it doesn't hurt him, but tight enough to form around his muscles like a mold. he's too considerate to tell you the sizing is terrible but he does politely say that he might try exchanging them for something a bit bigger.

your evil plans are falling apart and you hum casually, 'no, i think they're fine, don't you?'

'they're a little tight'. he laughs sheepishly, swinging his arms inwards and nearly busting through the seams of the casual wear, 'I think they're gonna start riding up my stomach'.

yeah, sounds like a dream come true. now you, an avid fan of steve's stomach, does not see the issue here. and he notices that you do not see an issue here, and his eyes narrow as he half-scoffs, half-laughs.

'Oh my god,' he realizes, 'are you enjoying this? You little pervert.' He crosses his arms over his chest to hide the way that the shirt curves around his muscles but it really does rip a seam now, some poor stitch on his left shoulder giving as his arms flex. Your eyes widen at the sound, and Steve flounders to find a modest position that doesn't tear the shirt to tatters.

'You bought me- you bought me crop tops so you could stare at my chest? How objectifying of you. I'm more than a body, you know.'

"I know!" You gush, rushing to press a kiss to his faux-frown, "But- before you exchange them, can you... can you try on the rest?"

'You want a fashion show?' he asks, brows raised and eyes scrutinizing you, 'If I tear through these things, we can't return them.'

'I'll buy more.' you promise, 'Just- put them on Steve, please?'

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ ° ｡

Series Masterlist

Steve Rogers x Agent! Reader (ft. Bucky Barnes)

After months of a seemingly normal and steady friendship, things take a complex turn. Steve learns a lesson about the intricacies of being a woman in a man’s world, interpersonal relationships, and the consequences of poor communication through the experiences of you, his favorite Gemini.

⋆｡°✩ ♊︎ MASTERLIST ♊︎ ✩ °｡⋆

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 1: Love You More

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 2: Wine And Dine

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 3: Expendable

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 4: Pink Peonies

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 5: Rearview

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 6: Little Birdie

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 7: Twinkles

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 8: True Romantic

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 9: Star Crossed Lover

⋆｡°♊︎ Chapter 10: May 20th

Complete

⋆｡°✩ ♊︎ EXTRAS ♊︎ ✩ °｡⋆

✧ Steve and Bug’s playlist: Listen to the same music Steve and Bug have compiled for each other, and get a sneak peek on the messages they’re sharing by letting the music speak for them. This is the same playlist from the story!

✧Thoughts: Here’s what people are saying about the story!

✷ TAG LIST ✷

Want to join? Just ask! I’m always happy to have you here.

See you all soon ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[mariswxts]

𝐄.𝐓 — 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋.ᐟ

Steve was continually punching the, well, the punching bag— he wasn’t really a kicker, so the punching bag would have to suffer from his fists. He’d barely had a year to adjust, figuring out what phones were, trying to find out what happened after the war and how America finally has a black President.

Times change.

When the punching bag went flying to the other side of the room, he sighed— not again. Grabbing the bag, he dragged it like it was a paperweight over to the ‘garbage pile’ of other bags and picked up a new one, stringing it up by the chain. At this point, he’d destroyed at least five, and counting, with how long his warm up was going— he’d only been going for three hours.

“Should I be worried?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe and wiggling your fingers with a grin. “You’re destroying those punching bags like it’s a wet sheet of paper.” Something about you always seemed to calm him down, so yes, he deflated again, sighing and grabbing his sweat towel, dabbing his neck. In ‘45, that sweat towel would be the target of ladies everywhere. “If it was Director Fury instead of me, he’d schedule you for a psych eval.”

“Should I be glad it ain’t Director Fury?” He replied in a sarcastic-ass drawl— he was an old man who’s woken up from a practical cry o freeze, he’s allowed to be a little bitchy.

But all you did was laugh— fuckin’ laugh, opening the case file you had and flicking through. “Yeah, he’s a little less courteous than your girl, here.” You cleared your throat, flicking your eyes up. “Alright, gloomy Gus, I’d love to handle whatever this big hunk’a anger is, but we’ve quite literally got an extra-terrestrial on our hands.”

Ok, first a world that looks like it’s been built by Howard Stark, second of all an extra terrestrial. Steve’s brain was going nuts.

“Norse mythology and the aforementioned self absorbed dick call him the god of mischief, Loki.” You lifted up a picture of the one remaining snapshots of the camera. “He’s tall, dark, and a big cup of trouble. He’s taken over the mind of a SHIELD agent with a magic sceptre and probably plans on world domination, judging by how he ain’t a friendly.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “There’s only one God, ma’am.”

“Ugh, don’t call me ma’am, makes me feel old.” You grinned, then handed him a file titled ‘AVENGERS INITIATIVE’. “The director designed it. Getting extraordinary individuals together to fight a global threat.”

Steve’s eyebrow raised so high it almost disappeared through his hairline, scoffing a little as he looked at the file. “And you think I’m an extraordinary individual?”

“You’re the ‘man out of time’, Steve. Not many people can survive a seventy year long cryo freeze in a lake.” You replied casually, then gestured to the file lazily. “My number’s in there. Call me when you make up your mind.”

As you turned to go, Steve blurted out the first question that came to mind. “If I’m the ‘man out of time’, what do they call you?”

You turned around, soft smirk playing on your lips as you considered the question. “Well, the people who’ve seen me for half a second, they call me the ‘woman through history’. But not many people have seen me until now.”

Later, Steve was staring in contemplation at the file, brows furrowed, trying to make a decision. He could be getting wrapped up in a war he was unequipped to fight, or he could be making the best decision of his life and getting involved with like-minded and bodied people. Eh, what’s the harm?

He picked up the new fangled phone you’d taught him how to use, finding that call app and dialling the number you’d written on the inside of the case file.

“Hey, River? I’m in.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Wide Open Future (1)

Steve Rogers x agoraphobic!Reader

Summary: Steve saves you after the Battle of New York, but you don't want to be taken from your safe space.

Warnings for being self-indulgent, hurt/comfort that's not completed in this part, 'slow' burn (but it's not going to be super long in total), and none of those are actually warnings so much as content descriptions. Originally, this was a one-shot. Go figure. There are zero specification of male or female, ethnicity or size for this reader. WC ~2k

Life was fine until half of your apartment blew apart. In an instant, the whole outer wall evaporated, leaving you seven stories up, the floor (mostly) ripped out from under you.

Obviously, in the emergency, no one took the elevators, and through your front door to the hallway, you heard people run for the stairs. They passed you by, but that’s because you didn’t know any of your neighbors. You didn’t move though. You couldn’t.

The sound…the sounds got worse.

Unearthly shrieks from floating, flying whales. Explosions that rattled you to the bone. Human screams, outside and in. Rubble from the other two stories above you crashed down, chipping away chunks of your floor with it.

Your couch teetered for a while before it finally caved.

Your kitchen island peeled away in bits: countertop, dishwasher, and then the sink plumbing.

For some reason, the worst was your books cascading off the shelves like synchronized swimmers into a sparking pool of ash.

You didn’t move though. You couldn’t.

It grew dark. The sirens never stopped.

You got thirsty, then hungry, yet you stay so, so still.

This has gone on for hours now. Life as you know it is over, and you remain curled at the foot of your front door.

All the electricity is out. Your fridge is off and your food spoiling, but at least water stops shooting out of the destroyed sink. There are no working clocks. Your walls are bare, and your phone long since slid down the slanted rubble to god-knows-where. There’s no signal by then anyway.

You don’t make a single sound. You can’t. You’d rather die here than leave. The dusty air is taunting you. You’ve shifted from hyperventilating to holding your breath.

“I’ve got something. Hang on,” you hear just as a spotlight sweeps across your living room turned paper mache dollhouse.

“Jarvis, can you get me the tenant listing…yeah, looks like…apartment seven-four-three…oh.” The voice says your name. “I’m going to move this off of you, ok? Can you hear me?”

The gentle hand sweeps a thick layer of debris off of your head and back. You chance relaxing your hands to look at the face of your rescuer.

Him.

“No,” you dryly whisper. “I live here. ’S my home.”

“The building isn’t stable. We have to evacuate you.”

“No,” you try to scream, but it’s too hard to focus. You’re fighting to back up out of his reach, but rubble lies behind you. Your ankle slips into a crevice, stopped by strips of exposed rebar.

Captain America grabs your shaking arms. “I’m sorry,” he keeps saying, “I’m sorry. You can’t live here. It’s not safe.”

You repeat yourself, too. “I can’t leave. I can’t leave.”

He talks, but it’s not to you anymore. He checks that you’re the last they’ve found in the building. People got trapped in the stairwell beyond a point, and they’ve been handled. Cap announces he’s going to “see this one through and call it a night.”

You’d rather die than leave. Out there is not livable. Out there is unsafe.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t believe him.

“I need you to trust me, just for a little while, alright?”

“I don’t want to go—“

“Close your eyes for me. Please? Just close your eyes until we get there.”

“No, please, no.”

He has to pry your body a little straighter to get ahold of you, and your shaking becomes so violent he adjusts, using sincere force to pin you to his chest before getting a running start.

He jumps across the chasm of your building to land on what sounds like a metal ramp and calls for the Jarvis person to take him home.

Home? It’s not your home. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” he says against your temple.

You’re frozen, shaking so badly words couldn’t form if you tried.

“I swear to you it will be okay.”

You haven’t spoken since.

He set you down on a bed, but you promptly crawled to the smallest, darkest space you could find, a closet full of Converses and jackets.

Cap, in his filthy suit, tossing the cowl onto the dresser, simply asks if you’re injured since he can’t get to you. You won’t let him see. The most he can do is hand you a bottle of water and a watch from his nightstand to hold.

Time is still going, still moving, even when you won’t.

Steve is…tired.

What he knows from J.A.R.V.I.S. is very little and very simple: you rented that one apartment for years, it has a magnetic keycard entry for the building, a regular key for your unit’s door, and there is no record of you ever entering since your move-in day. Your utilities are 35% higher than the average in the area. Because you are there all day. Because you never leave.

Because, as you yourself said, you can’t leave.

Steve sympathizes, he does, but he had to make the tough call. He wasn’t going to watch you die. He couldn’t live with himself if he left you there. This is the next-best and now only option.

He’s exhausted and starving. Shawarma only goes so far when vaulting across sheer drops to help find survivors in spots too dangerous for regular emergency crews. Steve alone found thirty-nine men, women, and children. Tony, with jet-pack feet and metal-armor biceps, rescued somewhere in the range of eighty people.

Great. Give Stark a medal. Steve couldn’t care less right now.

That’s not true, exactly, but after back-to-back-to-back calls with shelters all at-capacity or worse, he’s in need of sustenance, a shower, and clean clothes.

First, he chugs two of the protein shakes his fridge gets stocked with. It’s never been by his choice—and he never thought he’d be quite this grateful for modern packaging,—but today’s the day. Next, he chances a sweep through his room, snatching up sweats and then barricading himself in the bathroom. Despite wanting to stay beneath the hot spray forever, Steve rushes, concerned that you’re hurt in a way that wasn’t obvious.

He brings you another water and one of the shakes. He has no expectation of you wanting it. At the moment, however, there’s no other food ready to eat.

He grabs another washcloth, warming it under the tap, and slowly wipes at your face and hands. You certainly look terrible but luckily have nothing more than minor cuts.

Lucky.

He doesn’t feel lucky, and he imagines you don’t either.

“I’ll find you some place better in the morning,” he promises. “I’ll be out that door—“ he points “—on the couch if you need anything. I know you don’t want to,” Steve adds quietly, lacing his voice with as much reassurance as superhumanly possible, “but make yourself at home. You’re going to get through this.”

Before he can push himself off the floor, you grip his fingers in thanks, and he hopes, he wishes, he prays for that to be true.

It doesn’t feel like enough. It never feels like enough.

It’s small.

That’s good for your purposes of adjustment, and the fact that he’s never there (almost never) helps, too.

It’s all his stuff, not your stuff, but your whole life doesn’t exist anymore.

Jarvis, which is actually an AI wired through the walls or something, arranges for you to see your therapist via video chat on an enormous projection in the bedroom.

There’s a bedroom and bathroom. Theoretically, there is a grand common room just outside the door but you can’t.

“I’ve been told they won’t move you until a permanent place is found,” Dr. Lucien cuts in. You were staring at the door again, wondering. “Temporary shelters are so crowded right now people are getting transferred back and forth to wherever there’re beds. I’m told it’s no trouble to let you stay.”

Would Captain America kick you out?

“That’s good." You try to be brave. "I can do that.”

You work remotely—that’s always been easiest—and it’s a weird time where you have both less and more to do because the city is still in chaos, meaning you’re at your computer when Cap knocks before entering his own room.

“Hey,” he says carefully, “I just need to clean up.”

“Of course,” you reply automatically. In your mind, you shrink the world down to just the yard-long desk and this rolling chair. You focus on your screen and everything is fine.

Hearing the shower is no different here than that muted, rushing sound that came from your neighbor’s place before. You’ve had people you know in your space without much incident for a long time; the problem is mostly out there.

Cap leaves immediately. You almost don’t notice at all until a plate is plunked down on the desk.

“I’m gonna rest here for a bit if you don’t mind.”

“It’s…” You can hardly look up, knowing that he’s watching, knowing he can see inside this tiny bubble world you’ve managed to illusion yourself into. “It’s your room.”

“Turns out the couch is not very comfortable longterm.”

You nod and shrug. From the list of tasks left to complete, you’ll be working for a while yet.

“You got everything you need?”

He doesn’t lean in to make eye contact, you notice. He’s patient.

With twitching fingers, you pull away from the keyboard and slowly turn, controlling your breath to not seem panicked.

“I do, Captain Rogers. Thank you very much.”

His eyes are…not full of pity like you expected. He looks like a host eager to please a guest, but that’s ridiculous when you are indefinitely trapped here, constantly invading his home.

“Call me Steve, and I’m glad to help,” he replies softly.

In situations like this, it would be customary to say ‘no, I’ll get out of your hair,’ ‘I’ll just leave you to it,’ ‘please don’t put yourself out on my account,’ but that’s the thing: you cannot get out. You cannot leave. You don’t want to. You never, ever want to, and in this specific case, it’s actually Steve’s fault.

He raps his knuckles on the wood. “Little though it may be…”

Steve chugs a glass of water on his way to the bed—which you’ve made diligently every morning and changed the sheets twice now—and stretches across the half closer to the door. You’re comforted by the fact you didn’t steal the exact spot he sleeps in on top of bogarting his quarters.

You use his desk, you have clothes in the closet which Jarvis had someone bring you, and you etched out a corner of the bathtub rim for wash products. You’ve for sure done enough to invade already, so you stay silent and work while Steve falls asleep, snoring lightly.

You deep clean the bathroom one day when extremely restless, and although he insists you did not need to, Steve beams with gratitude.

You do a little more around the room, and a little more, and a little more.

The single room and en suite bathroom become your oasis, and—as promised—a safe space that you thoroughly dread leaving. The dread includes leaving Steve Rogers.

You know that all of those things will lead to another tragic episode once you have to move again. It makes you do more in hopes of being essential, of being needed to stay.

Steve pops his head in.

"Would you...would you want to watch a movie with me tonight? I checked out a few--well, I guess you'd call them 'classics' now--from the library, and I thought...maybe..."

With one flash of a smile, your oasis grows to two rooms. Life just might be fine again someday, just as he promised.

[Next Part]

A/N: I'm probably going to regret not just completing this before posting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @rogersideup (tagging you because this kinda reminded me of your series Late Night Talking which I love so much!) @rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63 @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry