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fangirlovestuff · 5 years ago

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You Make Me Feel Right - Steve Rogers x reader

a/n - Hey lovely people! this one is part of @evansxxx‘s I Don’t Wike It Challenge! congrats on a 1,000 followers love! prompt is in bold (it’s #25) and itaics is a flashback/memory. Enjoy! <3

Summary: You and Steve finally go on a date. You go to a place that holds a glimpse into your past - and maybe one into your future?

Word count: ~2,180

warnings: very brief mentions of violence, nervous steeb🥺

The lights of the New York street were shining all around you as you walked hand in hand with Steve through the crowded streets. You sneaked a look at him – the billboard next to you cast a red tint on his face, which were turned down to look at his phone.

You and Steve were finally going out. The last few months you were both very preoccupied; missions, paperwork and general chaos in the Avengers tower kept you both from having proper dates for a long while - the last date you’ve had was probably 4 months ago. Obviously, you made due, getting to spend some time with each other anyway, especially since you were living together. You were working with the Avengers, and weren't one of the famous superheroes but a simple lab worker. When you discovered a break in both of your schedules, instead of spending a lazy night at home you suggested you finally go on a proper date. Steve was hesitant at first, he didn’t want to be recognized and ruin the night, but you managed to persuade him to go, on the condition that he gets to plan the night. His cap was low on his forehead, along with fake glasses he thought made him look very different. You knew it wouldn't actually stop some of the crazy fans out there from recognizing him, but you went along with it. The glasses looked very cute on him, so that was a bonus.

Right now, Steve was trying to navigate the two of you to a restaurant he heard was very recommended close by. His blue eyes scanned the busy street as you headed towards the outskirts of the crowd. You turned a corner to find a nice little restaurant, potted plants surrounding the outside tables. Steve smiled in accomplishment and tugged on your hand to lead you towards the restaurant.

You beamed at him. "You're really getting the hand of all this tech stuff, aren't you?" You referred to his use of google maps on his phone without the grumbling that was usually involved. Steve just hummed and smirked a little as you entered the restaurant hand in hand.

"Mr. Rogers," the hostess greeted and smiled. "We're very pleased to see you here this evening. Follow me please," she said to you both. She led you into a secluded corner of the room, where you most likely won't be seen by anyone else, where she left you both to read you menus.

"I had to make a reservation to make sure they had a place for us," Steve explained. "I know we're not really aiming to get recognized tonight, well, actually the opposite of that, but--"

"Steve, it’s okay. I get it," you smiled at him so he can know it's really okay.

Your food quickly arrived, and you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until you smelled the delicious smell coming from the plates that were put in front of you. You dug in happily, humming appreciatively at the tasty food. You looked up at Steve, expecting to see him enjoying his food as well. Instead, you saw him only moving the food a little on his plate, taking small bites with a slight frown on his face. As a super-soldier, Steve had an enormous appetite, so you had to ask him, "Earth to Steve. You alright there?"

"Yeah, sorry," he smiled and started eating his food with some of his usual enthusiasm. You were still suspicious, but you let it go for now.

"So, you know the new kid at R&D? Tony told me he's like a genius or something," you started to make conversation.

"Oh, Jake, right? He seemed like a nice kid when I met him so that's good for him. Did you hear about what Nat is now calling 'The Disaster'?" he chuckled.

You giggled. "Oh my god, I can't believe how dramatic she is. One of the new trainees caught her singing in the kitchen one time and she literally won't shut up about it." You started impersonating her, "You don't understand, it was humiliating!" you put the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically and Steve laughed.

You continued in conversation throughout the evening, and it flew easy as usual. Despite that, you were still worried about Steve. He supposedly never got sick, but he really didn't seem that hungry.

"Steve, are you sure you're alright?" you asked after the waiter took away his still pretty full plate at the end of the meal.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he smiled softly and reached for your hand across the table. His hand was a bit clammy, but you still took it as you narrowed you eyes at him playfully.

"I don't really believe you, but dessert should fix it if you're not willing to tell me." You both decided to share your favorite dessert, that was thankfully on the restaurant's menu. You ended up splitting it pretty much if half, which was admittedly a regular occurrence, since Steve was always the gentleman and insisted on eating half despite of his larger appetite.

When you left the restaurant hand in hand you started wandering around towards the quieter streets, only encountering a few people in your way. You walked in silence for the most part, simply enjoying each other's company. You shivered a little at the night chill and Steve wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his warm body.

You came across a small alley you recognized right away. "Steve look!" you pointed his attention to the alley across the street. He chuckled in relief. "I'm glad you recognized it."

The tall man was towering over you, the gold horns on his head shining as devilishly as his eyes are. The large scepter in his hand is pointed towards you, pushing you to the corner of the small alley. Your back was pushing against the wall and you were screaming for help, but it seemed like no one was going to show up. His scepter started shining in a blue light and it was getting closer and closer to your head. You'd stopped screaming, now paralyzed in fear. You thought you were done for. You closed your eyes; your whole life wasn't flashing before you. There was just panic.

Just then, you heard a loud thud. You opened your eyes to see two tall, blond, muscular men. One of them was holding a hammer and punching the evil dude with it. The other one was wearing a mostly blue suit and coming towards you, and—holy shit, that was Captain America. Your brain was back working now, and you couldn’t help but notice he looked way better up close than he did on the TV. And he looked gorgeous on the TV.

"You okay?" he asked, his blue eyes looking into yours with worry.

"Yeah," you gulped, "I'm okay now."

He nodded at you and you noticed the alley was quickly filling up with other Avengers. They now cornered the villain much like he did to you before. "Who is he?" you asked Steve.

"Loki, the god of mischief. And Thor's half-brother? Or was it adopted?" he debated to himself.

"I'm sorry, he's the what?"

"Yeah, you're right, they look hardly alike. As I said, probably adopte--"

"Not that! He's a god?"

"Oh yeah," Steve blushed slightly. You saw the Avengers cornering Loki but you saw a flash of something metal behind his back. "Anyway," Steve continued, "you should come with us to the compound, we can check if he--"

"Watch out! He's got a knife!" you shouted at the Avengers who automatically went into their defensive poses even before you finished your sentence and then disarmed Loki.

"Thank you, human," Thor waved at you.

"I'm surprised Rogers here didn't notice it before. Must've been busy looking at something else instead of helping his teammates catch a dangerous god." Tony quipped.

Steve blushed deeper than before and you giggled. "Thank you," you said, "for saving my life. But I really gotta go, so see you." You smiled and walked away from the tall man. You didn't even realize how close to you he was until you backed away, missing his closeness. But he was Captain America, and no matter how cute he was it's not like you stood a chance.

Steve followed you with his eyes practically shaped into hearts.

"Seriously Rogers? If you were gonna neglect your duty like that, at least get a phone number out of it." Natasha came closer to Steve and teased. Steve's face sobered up instantly.

With little effort he caught up to you. "Can I have your phone number?" he asked timidly. You looked at him, surprised. "I mean, to check up on you. And also maybe grab a coffee sometime, if you'd like, maybe-"

You mercifully stopped him from rambling by putting your hand out for his phone. "I'd love to."

"Um, great." He awkwardly reached for his phone and handed it to you.

Of course you remembered this alley, and you told Steve this. "Of course I recognized it! I almost got murdered by a god in here!" you exclaimed playfully. "And I also met you here, lady-killer," you teased.

He chuckled nervously and led you into the alley.

To your utmost surprise, the alley was full of fairy lights; with the moon shining above it was a beautiful view. "Steve, did you..." you trailed off, staring at the transformed alley in awe.

"Do you like it?" Steve asked, a bashful smile on his face, holding your hand in his.

"I absolutely love it!" you smiled and pecked his lips. "What's the occasion?"

"Well, I wanted to ask you something." He smiled and reached inside his pocket, taking a deep breath. He took out a small box and got down on one knee, still holding your hand in his.

"Steve?" you asked, a huge smile across your face.

He bit his lip and smiled. "When we met here, I was dumbstruck, quite literally." You giggled, your eyes filling with tears. "You were the only woman I had eyes for, you still are. All I could think was how much I wanted you not to leave, to know you. From the get-go, you've always looked like a person I'd want to know. And maybe I'm not as smart as you, but in this case I was right. There's not one day I go by without being grateful for knowing you. For the opportunity to love you. Because before you, I was lost. There was this whole new world I didn't know, and I thought I didn't belong here. But you proved me wrong. Thanks to you I almost know how to use my phone." He smiled and breathed deeply before continuing. "And I know I belong here, because no matter what – I belong with you. I used to think I was a man out of time, but I've realized it's not true. Almost everything I had in the past pales in comparison to you. I’ve spent most of my life not knowing what right was supposed to feel like, and then I met you. And everything changed. You make me feel right. You're my home." He opened the box to reveal the most beautiful engagement ring you've ever seen. You gasped at the sight of it, tears falling out of your eyes. "I've never been happier than in the two years I've known you," Steve continued. "Would you do me the greatest honor in being by my side for the rest of my life? Will you marry me?" he beamed at you.

"Yes! Yes, yes, of course yes!" You kneeled down in front of him and nearly tackled him with a fierce hug. "I love you, Steve Rogers. And there's nothing I want more than to be your wife."

He surged forward and kissed you, his lips soft against your own. The kiss was passionate but soft, conveying through action the happiness and love that words simply cannot describe. Your hands were wrapped around his neck and his went to your waist when you heard a soft thud. You let go of each other's lips and laughed, because in the moment, Steve dropped the box with the ring.

"Oops," he scratched the back of his neck before reaching for the box. He took out the ring and slipped it onto your finger, a perfect fit, where it glimmered softly with the lights of the street.

You finished admiring the ring and gasped. "Wait! Is this why you were being weird all night?" you realized.

"Yeah," Steve smiled bashfully. "I guess I was just nervous…"

Seeing the beefy super-soldier being unsure of himself made your heart swell with love. "You had no reason to be," you reassured him.

You both went home that night hand in hand, sending each other lovesick gazes that would've no doubt made a few of your friends roll their eyes if they were there. But nothing really mattered at this moment, nothing besides you and Steve, the moon the only witness to your love.

#evansxxx1000 #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #chris evans #steve rogers fluff #nervous steeb #baby steeb

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pixeldotgamer · 5 years ago

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well im pleased purely because the way i draw steven/his hair is now canon baybee

#su spoilers #suf spoilers #su #i literally cant stop nervous laughing yall wtf #anyway that steeb design giving off jock vibes what a time to be alive

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whzbang · 6 years ago

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so hi we're mutuals && i want to say i really want to do a ship with you but i know you list it in your rules that you ship it but i'm just?????? so nervous??????? you good with a steve hopping in your ims?????

okay, listen friend, listen closely come to the darkside and please bring america’s ass with you

#Anonymous #✶‘ﾟ‣ ( ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀ ! ) — ➤ o o c #✶‘ﾟ‣ ( ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀ ! ) — ➤ answered #( we LOVE steeb ok )#( and don't be nervous !!!! i swear i'm more scared of you than you are of me!! )

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years ago

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hopelessly devoted to you

— mob! bucky barnes x housewife! reader

summary || bucky loves playing games with you, and like the innocent doe you are, you always get trapped.

warnings || literally all of our fantasy to be a cute housewife for bucky. shameless smut. unprotected sex. housewife kink. cockwarming. masturbation. edging. orgasm control/denial. punishments. fingering. creampie. oral sex. somnophilia. praise kink. dacryphilia. innocence kink. corruption kink. possessive bucky. mean bucky. filthy bucky. a lot of dirty talk. horny thots. PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

this is probably the freakiest thing I’ve written,.. like feminism is out of the window

“Dinner’s ready!“ you happily chimed as you opened the door to his study. But your smile dropped into a frown when you saw him sitting in front of a pile of papers. His eyes darted up from the paper he was reading and when he saw you, his lips twitched into a smirk than his usual smile.

“Are you very busy? Should I go?” You asked in a meek voice. You were very well aware of what your husband did, but you never interfered in it. Bucky made you happy and loved you more than anyone else ever could, and you honestly didn’t want anything else from your life.

Bucky’s eyes trailed down to the way you were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt; it was your nervous tic and Bucky hated nothing more than seeing you anxious. “I’m never too busy for my wife.” Your face instantly lit up and you let go of your skirt. “Come here.”

You happily sauntered over to his chair and sat down on his welcoming lap. He buried his nose in your neck and breathed in your scent. “Mmm… you’re so sweet for me, my sunshine.” He mumbled against your skin sending down little vibrations. “Bucky,…” you breathed out.

He darted out his tongue to lick a wide stripe of your neck and goosebumps erupted on your skin. He wrapped his flesh arm around your thigh while his metal arm was still clutching the papers. You sucked in a sharp breath when his hand slid past your skirt and rubbed your warm pussy.

Bucky treated you like a queen, and all you had to do do was follow a few of his rules. Not wearing panties around him, was one of them. You squirmed in his lap when his fingers started circling your excited clit. He held you tighter when wriggled and moaned.

“Don’t you think it’s cold?” Bucky’s voice was thick with lust. You were distracted as it is, as his lips kept on nibbling on your sensitive neck. Your body was heated up due to his ministrations, and even without that, you were sure the room was fairly warm. “N.. no.” You stuttered.

“I think it’s chilling. Now, don’t you wanna keep me warm?” He asked playfully. “Sure.” You replied without thinking much. Bucky chuckled against your throat and you knew he was up to no good. You were married to him for nearly a year and knew him much before that, yet he never stopped surprising you with his wicked ways.

You gasped when Bucky spread your legs further apart until they were dangling down from his thighs. He hummed as he spread your slick around your sopping folds. “So wet for me, just like a good wife should be.”

You pressed yourself to his chest and arched your back when two of his thick fingers entered you. He pumped them in a steady pace as if he didn’t want to stimulate you as much as he wanted to stretch you. “You’re so tight sweetheart, as if I don’t fuck you every night.”

If there was one thing about Bucky, it was that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut during sex. But his filthy words only spurred you on. His metal arm was curled around your hip as he fingered you with his other arm. “I think that’s enough warm up.” He chuckled as he scissored his fingers within you.

He pulled out his fingers and brought them to your mouth and you obediently sucked on them. You were desperate by the sudden lack of stimulation and you started moving your hips to get at least some friction. “Be patient.” He chastised.

You cracked a smile when you heard him open the zip of his slacks. You hissed as he position his hard length against your needy hole. You sighed as his thick head sank in and he kept pulling you down until he completely filled you out.

You bit down on your lip with excitement as you knew what was to come. But all your guesses went down the drain when he left you just like that and started looking through the papers again. Just his metal arm was holding you still while he checked the papers with his right hand.

“Bucky?” He only hummed in response as his eyes skimmed through the fine print of words on the paper. His lack of attention you to was only arousing you more as you felt your juices leaking around his cock. “Aren’t you.. umm,.. aren’t you going to fuck me?” You asked genuinely.

“No baby. I told you I was cold. But now you are keeping me warm, aren’t you?” Your eyes widened in realisation and you nearly came on spot. Bucky had told you many times before as he fucked you that he wanted you to keep his cock warm, you hadn’t expected him to do it right now. Not that you were complaining.

Unable to do much, you just sagged back against his broad chest. Your vision was hazy and you couldn’t really see what was written on those papers, neither did you want to. Your entire concentration was pulled towards his cock stuffed inside you and the constant throbbing of your nub.

You didn’t really know how much time had passed as you were too out of it to realise, but by now, you were craving the friction. His cock was snug against your walls and you wanted him to move, desperately. You tried your best to stay still, but couldn’t anymore.

You gripped the oak table in front of you and tried fucking yourself on his cock. But Bucky was quick to hold you still and you nearly wanted to cry as he clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, can’t you see I’m busy? I just wanted you to keep me warm, not distract me. Can’t you even do that for me?”

“Bucky but..” your voice was low with hurt as you hated disappointing Bucky. “Shhh…” he pressed a kiss against your temple and it was enough to shut you up. You were hoping for even a little bit of relief, but that never came.

Instead, Bucky pulled out of you and zipped himself back up. He arranged the papers back on the desk and pushed your skirt down. You whined in complaint and before you could say anything, Bucky just patted your ass and announced, “Let’s have dinner!”

~~~

You rubbed your thighs together to alleviate the ache persistent at your core. You turned around on the bed to see Bucky sleeping by your side. You never before had the urge to wake up him as you did now; how could he possibly sleep so peacefully when you were literally burning with need at his side.

You had picked at your dinner as your hunger wasn’t really related to food. You had hopes in your heart that he would give you what you wanted at least when you went to bed. But Bucky simply went to sleep after giving you a forehead kiss.

You felt like it was strung tight with tension and needed something, anything, or relieve it. At this point, your body was so sensitive to touch that even the bedsheets felt rough. Even you didn’t know how your hand landed between your legs, but you chewed your lips as you got an idea.

You cleared your throat to see if Bucky was awake, and when he didn’t respond, you sighed. You spread your legs on the bed and closed your eyes as you imagined Bucky. Your fingers danced along your thighs before dipping into your wet pussy.

Little sparks travelled down to your toes as you flicked your clit. Your responsive nub was throbbing with need and you sank down into the bed as your fingers soothed your ache. Your fingers clutched the sheets and your teeth sank into your bottom lip to keep moans from spilling out.

Your back arched when you pushed two of your fingers into your sopping hole. The fingers weren’t nearly enough for the delicious stretch of Bucky’s cock, but at least this was better than nothing. You were dripping wet and your fingers made a squelching noise as you pumped them into your hole.

You weren’t able to reach the special spots that Bucky was able to, but since you were so delirious with the need to get pleasured, your fingers did just fine in calming the fire in your core. You were wriggling on the bed as you felt yourself getting close.

Your toes curled as you rubbed your clit with your hand and curled your fingers into you. After all this time of being on the edge, you relaxed as you knew you were going to melt into the oncoming orgasm. But right as you were about to cum, Bucky’s hand wrapped around your wrist.

Your fingers slipped out of your entrance with a pop, which made you wince. Your face burned with embarrassment as Bucky caught you red handed. But even more frustrating than that was you were just about to cum, but Bucky had prevented that from happening.

“What were you doing sweetheart?” Despite the deceptive nickname, his tone was purely condescending. You opened your mouth to speak back, but you weren’t able to comprehend anything. His eyes were hard in the dim moonlight that seeped through. “And who gave you the permission to touch my pussy?”

One of his rules was to not touch yourself unless he tells you to. You didn’t know what exactly to feel — anger that he denied you your release, or guilt that you broke his rule. Somehow, both of them clouded your thought and you couldn’t convey either. Instead you just laid back and stared at Bucky with wide eyes.

“Now tell me, do you deserve a punishment, or not?” You knew this wasn’t a question. Your eyes pricked with tears as you murmured, “This isn’t fair.” Bucky just gave a cruel smile as he held your jaw in a firm grip. He pressed a gentle kiss to your pouty lips before speaking.

“How is this not fair? Hmm. Do you even know how difficult it was for me to not fuck you right on that table? I was going to give it to you baby, I promise. I just wanted you to be my good girl. But no. You can’t even be good for me.” His words made you tear up and Bucky shamelessly licked your salty tears.

You cried harder when you realised that all of this had been his trap. And like the innocent doe you were, you were trapped. You wanted to hate the games he played with you, but you just couldn’t. Both, him and you knew that you loved it.

“What’s your colour?” Bucky asked. You couldn’t help but crack a small smile, “Green.” Was your quick reply. The fact that you were in control of the situation and Bucky would never do anything to actually hurt you, made you preen.

“Good. Now back to my question. Do you deserve a punishment or not.” Bucky mused. You gulped nervously before answering, “Yes.” In the next instant, Bucky’s lips descended upon yours. The kiss was rough and dominating and yet it made you swoon.

You moaned into the kiss as Bucky spread your legs apart and seated himself in between. You panted for breath as he pulled away before clutching your night gown and pulling it above your head. The cold night air prickled your heated body.

He discarded the clothes he slept in and you roved your hand over his corded muscles. You could see how desperate even he was as he rubbed the head of his cock over your drenched folds. He swirled against your clit and your breath hitched.

“Your pussy looks so needy. Does it hurt sweetheart?” His eyes were zeroed down on the mess your pussy was making. You nodded at his words because though they were humiliating, it was true. “Do you wanna cum on cock?” He had this glint in his eyes which made you think twice.

“Yes please.” You whined. You still didn’t know what he was going to do to you as he still hadn’t told you about your punishment. The anticipation was only adding to the arousal coursing through your veins. “Hmm… so your punishment for acting like a bad girl is, you don’t get to cum tonight.”

Your eyes flew open and before you could complain for him to reconsider, he entered you in a single hard stroke. All your thoughts left your head when he seated himself deep inside you, filling you up to your brim. Your legs shook and you curled your fingers in his bulging biceps, leaving indented marks in the shape of your nails.

Bucky’s thrusts were hard and precise. He was set on a goal and the goal was to wreck you. The bed rattled with the force of his movements as he fucked into you while still holding your jaw. “Buc… Bucky Please!” You begged when you surpassed the initial shock.

“That’s right baby. Beg for me. Beg for me to let you cum. Who knows, your needy whines my change my decision.” You knew it was nearly impossible. Once Bucky was set on something, nothing in this world could change his decision. But the little hope that you could still get your much needed release made your heart soar.

“Please… please let me cum. I.. ahh.. I’ll be good.” Your tried your best to plead while he fucked you within an inch of your life. “Now that’s not very convincing you see. You’ve disappointed me a lot today sweetheart. And though it breaks my heart, I have to teach you how to be a good wife.”

Your head was spinning and as Bucky continued his dirty talk. Your mouth was open as moans and little whimpers spilled out of it. You honestly didn’t know if you could stop yourself from coming and you shivered at the thought of what Bucky would do if you broke his rule again.

“Now tell me sweetheart, you could’ve opened your mouth and asked me. Have I ever denied you anything?“ you had no idea how Bucky was speaking like that while rutting into you. You opened your mouth to speak but all that came out with a moan of Bucky’s name.

“Did you get shy? Huh?” He squeezed your jaw and you mumbled a strained yes. “You get all shy to ask your own husband to fuck you, but all that shyness is gone when you shamelessly touch your pussy while he is right next to you.” His words were pushing you further and you squealed out, “Fuck!”

“What did you just say? Good wives are not supposed to curse. Guess I have to fuck those filthy words outta your mouth.” Bucky’s thrust were getting unrelenting as he was losing his rhythm and you knew he was close.

“Bucky please! I’ll be good for you….. So good. The best!… Please let me me cum. Please..,,. I’m sorry Bucky! Please I’m so so sorry. Just let me cum. I promise I won’t.. I won’t do it again.” You were past the point of coherence and the only thing you cared about in this world, was getting to cum.

“Aww poor baby. You’re such a mess. Do you even know how much I love to see you wrecked like this?” He pressed kisses over your face before continuing. “But no. You don’t get to cum. And if you do, sweetheart, you won’t like what happens next.” The warning in his words was clear.

“Tell me you need me to fill you up. Cum so deep within you that you feel me for days. Tell me you’ll be my good wife and take my seed.” With the way he was hitting your special spot over and over again, thinking and speaking was very difficult and yet, you tried. “Bucky.. please fill me up! I need your cum! Please! I’ll be your good wife..!”

That was all Bucky needed as he came deep inside you. His rough grunts and moans were like music to your ears. And somehow seeing him reach his peak, made you happy too. You squirmed on the bed as you felt his hot seed fill you until it leaked from besides his cock.

You knew you were right at the edge, and yet you didn’t cum. You just couldn’t. You didn’t know if it was your determination to please Bucky, or his sheer command over you. But you lay there, a shivering and trembling mess, as he pulled out of you.

“You were so good for me sweetheart. You’ve made me so proud.” His words suddenly made you feel less empty and you turned around to see him. He pressed loving kisses to your face and you smiled through your tears. “Really?” You asked almost unbelieving.

“Yes. You were the absolute best. My best girl. I love you.” Hearing him say this felt even more blissful than your impending orgasm. Though he said these words every night and morning, listening to them never failed to make you happy.

“I love you too.” You mumbled hazily. He circled his arms around you and pulled you tight against him. “Sleep sweetheart. I promise I’ll wake you up with a gift.” You were actually on edge, but the days fatigue had tired you and Bucky’s promise of a gift made you excited for tomorrow as you drifted into dreamland.

~~~

You feel as if you’re drowning through the saccharine sweetness of thick honey as you arise from the deep depths of sleep. Your body feels electric and alive and you can’t tell the reason until you open your eyes and see Bucky between your thighs.

You gasp as you feel him lapping up your pussy and you weave your hands through his thick hair. His hands were holding your thighs wide apart and keeping you from wriggling. Your back arched involuntarily as he sucked on your clit.

“Bucky..” his name spilled out of your lips and he looked up at you. His blue eyes were sparkling with mischief in the morning sun. Seeing that you were awake, he doubled down his efforts. The room was filled with the noise of your moans and his hungry laps.

You clutched his hair tighter as his tongue entered your wet channel. He hummed into your pussy and the vibrations travelled up your spine. Your legs were trembling around his head and your toes curled as he ate you out like a starved man.

His beard was rubbing deliciously over your sensitive thighs and this roughness was only adding to the overall pleasure. Bucky knew your body better than even yourself, and he knew exactly what to do to make you lose your mind.

You were strung up as it is, and under Bucky’s precise ministrations, it didn’t take you much time to unravel. Your entire body felt as if it was cotton candy melting into the gentle embrace of water. The calm floaty feeling overtook you as every nerve in your body was set alight.

Bucky didn’t stop throughout your orgasm and lapped up all that you gave him. He pulled back only when he was satisfied, and that was when your entire body had gone lax with pleasure. All your previous tension and tautness had vanished as you smiled up at him in a daze.

“That was a very nice gift.” You giggled when you remembered last nights promise. “That was just the beginning sweetheart. We have the entire day to ourselves and I have so much planned for you. Also, good morning.” He grinned like a lovesick fool.

“Yeah. It was indeed a very good morning.”

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teamfadedblue · 7 years ago

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Hi guys! Steven Diamond Universe here!

I hear you guys have some questions for me? And my family and friends? So, yeah, we’re just gonna... uh, go ahead and answer those!

#steeb #ask box party #I'm very nervous I've never done this kind of thing before

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tickle-bugs · 2 years ago

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For the writing thingie, maybe ler!Robin lee!Steve? The phrase could be “Steve, don’t make me sit on you again…”

your honor, they are everything to me. hope u enjoy!! still trying to figure out robin tbh

Under Covers

Robin leans her bike against the garage, careful not to scrape. Steve’s home--his car sits idle in the driveway, waiting patiently to ferry them both to Family Video. They’re already late, technically, but they’re not late late yet.

An argument could be made that she could simply bike to work, admonishing Steve from the high horse of punctuality, but that’s no fun.

She jiggles her key in the lock and throws the door open, dumping her bag by the door. It’s quiet and dark downstairs, the kitchen unused, neither of which are a good sign. Steve’s usually a morning person, but on the days where he isn’t, he has to be surgically removed from sleep. It’s a coin toss, really, if he’s late over his hair or late for oversleeping and his hair.

She inhales as much as her lungs can manage, then: “Steeeeeeevvvvveeeeee!”

No response. She scowls.

She helps herself to a glass of orange juice and promptly rinses the glass, never one to make extra work for Steve when possible. Bothering him, yes, but inconveniencing him? Not if she can help it.

She thumps up the stairs two at a time. Steve’s bedroom door is cracked open when she gets there, exposing the comically lumpy mass of blankets on his bed and the upsetting pile of laundry in not one, but two corners of the room. Robin has half a mind to do a running jump onto the bed, but he’s gotten way too good at convincing her to take pre-work naps. They need this job. Unfortunately.

“Steve. Steven. Steeb.” Robin leans in the doorframe, biting her lip on an affectionate smile. Steve’s hair pokes out just at the top of the blanket pile.

“Don’t make me sit on you,” She says a little louder, moving over to the left side of the bed. Steve wrinkles his nose and makes a grumbly noise.

“Three, two--”

“Bobin?” He mumbles, squinting at her.

She pounces. He screams, muffled by the blanket, but then he tumbles into wild giggles and flails for purchase.

“Get up, get up, get up!” She squeezes at his sides through the blanket, feeling around blindly but knowing intimately where to strike. His arms fly free of the blanket and he starts grappling with her, trying to poke at her like the bastard he is, but she’s on a goddamn mission. Either they’re getting to work on time (unlikely) or he’s going to die (still on the table).

“Get. up.” She starts tickling his ribs, sliding up under his arms every time he tries to swat at her. Steve honest-to-god snorts, which she didn’t know he could do. She catalogues it for later.

“W-Why--Ah, Robin, nohoho!” Steve whines and covers his face. She starts poking at his stomach, speeding up whenever he tries to grab her. His laughter revs like an engine. He twists away suddenly, curling up on his side and as close to the edge of the bed as he can physically get. Robin chuckles at him and tazers his side. He makes no sense. Only Steve would forfeit all the empty space in his bed rather than use it to escape.

“We’re late, dingus!” She reaches back and squeezes his thigh. He shrieks like his life depends on it, voice cracking around his laughter in that way she loves.

“I’m up!” Steve wheezes, lunging forward to grab her wrists. She squeezes again and he crumples into the mattress, throwing his head back against the pillows. He tries to say her name, or possibly curse at her, but all that comes out is a jumble of syllables and frantic, nervous giggles.

“No, if you were up, you’d be getting ready.” She pauses, just to prove her point. Steve pushes his hair out of his face and fixes her with the bitchiest look he can manage. She grins. He scowls.

“I’ll drag you out of bed if I have to.” She crosses her arms. When he wriggles down into the bed like an indignant little worm, he earns her wrath. It’s only natural. She’s given him an out and a half. Robin feels around under the blanket and grabs Steve’s ankle, skittering her nails over the curve of his heel and up. It’s a fast track to a black eye, but she’s gotten quicker lately.

There’s a screechy peal of laughter, then a thump--a loud one, and not from Steve’s side. Robin peers over the right side of the bed, feeling for the nearest pillow to defend herself from whatever creatures might lurk in here.

Instead, she finds Eddie Munson. His hair’s a mess, more so than usual, and his face is bright pink. He’s oddly jittery.

“What.” Robin and Eddie blink at each other. She looks down at her hand, clutched around what is decidedly not Steve’s foot, then back up at Eddie. He gives her a sheepish wave.

“Oh my god.” She drops Eddie’s ankle. Eddie. Here. In Steve’s bed.

“Robin--” Steve holds his hands out soothingly.

“Oh my god.” She drops her head in her hands.

“Is that a good ‘oh my god’ or do I need to change my locks?” Eddie asks from somewhere beside her. He climbs back up onto the bed and drops beside her. The mattress dips to accept him.

“Still deciding,” She groans. Steve rubs her back, murmuring something soft and sickeningly fond in Eddie’s direction. She’s happy for Steve--god, she’s over the fucking moon for him, really. She teases him because someone needs to, but her heart swells knowing there was a resolution to all the yearning passing between the two of them.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I should’ve been the first to know!” Robin smacks Steve’s bare chest. He catches her hand.

“Well, you’re like the third to know.” Robin glares at him, but Steve throws his hands up in surrender. “Kidding! Third, because me and Eddie. Honestly, Rob, we were gonna tell you.”

“We’re, uhm, still figuring it out.” Eddie nudges her shoulder, but his shmoopy eyes are firmly on Steve. Gross.

“Alright, well…I have questions. So many questions. But first--” She pokes his chest as aggressively as possible. Eddie copies her, hitting Steve’s stomach instead.

“Up, yes, I knohow--” Steve’s voice breaks on a giggle. He crumples awkwardly into Robin, twisting away from Eddie. Robin’s tempted to help, but she leans away from Steve to give Eddie more access. Drama’s more fun, anyhow. Steve doesn’t laugh nearly enough.

“No--” Steve points accusingly at Eddie. Eddie only grins wider in response.

“You’ve given me a tremendous gift, Buckley!” Eddie cackles, wiggling his fingers into Steve’s sides. Steve yelps and bolts, managing to skid in the bathroom and slam the door before Eddie can vault over the bed. Robin and Eddie both chuckle.

“Sorry if I helped make you late,” Eddie says, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. A devious little idea grows in the back of her head.

“Yeah, you did.” She lunges at him with an evil laugh. Eddie squeaks and tries to scramble away, but Robin’s on him already, heart growing three sizes at the now-pair of dinguses she’d never choose to live without.

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #stranger things #steeb and bobin <3 #ticklish!steve harrington #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #steddie #yes robin has a key to steve's house #also eddie was 100% helping robin tickle steve she just didn't know #god i missed these three so much. i miss writing them!!!!

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appocalipse · 2 years ago

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hotel with steeb pls

love you and your writing <3

love u more <3 made this a comfort fic since this other request was kinda similar and it went in another direction, i hope you like it anyway ♥

[HOTEL; Sharing a hotel bed with the other when there’s only one left. (COUGH COUGH one bed supremacy COUGH COUGH)]

Your choices were: sleeping in a plastic chair in the corner of the room or sharing a bed with Steve.

He would have gladly agreed to sleep in the chair himself, you're certain —he had offered to do so, insisted even, too kind for his own good; but you're an adult and you two are friends. There's no harm in sharing a hotel room with a friend, is there?

Maybe there is in sharing a bed with a friend, especially if you have a small crush on said friend. Steve is easy to like, very easy. He's kind and sweet beyond measure, kind without expecting any credit for it. It doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes, too, does it?

"Which side?" he asks, thoughtful as you'd expect. He's standing beside the bed, hair wet from the shower he's just taken. Steve is wearing pants and a t-shirt, and even though he looks reasonably comfortable, you just know he doesn't sleep with this many clothes on normally.

"Any side it's okay," you say, not wanting to be picky.

"You're sure?" Steve looks like he wants to argue. Then he glances at the bed and says, "Can I have the left side, then?"

"Of course," you're pretty sure won't be sleeping at all anyways. Your restless mind will surely keep you awake for more than a couple of hours.

Thunder rips through the sky outside and you stifle a scream with your hand.

You are no more afraid of a storm than the next person, but this one is really, really loud.

"You're alright?" Steve asks, ducking under the covers.

"Yes," The bed is small. You feel your toe touching him somewhere when you're lying down, and he makes an exaggerated sound of shock. "Sorry."

He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes closed. When he opens them and looks at you, lying on his side, what remains of his laugh is enough to form a smile on his face. "Your foot is freaking cold," he whispers.

You laugh, looking up at the ceiling. You're trying your best to keep a respectable distance between the two of you, but you suspect hotel beds aren't made with this purpose in mind.

You don't dare lie on your side. Eyes are the windows to the soul, are they not? You're afraid of what Steve might see if he looks into yours more than you're afraid of what you'd find in his.

Your hand fits in the space between your bodies, you calculate. It's not a very big hand.

Another thunder. You shiver and Steve can feel it as much as you can feel his breath on his cheek, the kindness in his eyes as he studies your expression with concern.

His fingertips touch your elbow, hesitant, as another deafening thunder rumbles outside, sounding like it's going to bring everything down, rip the sky in a half. "Do you want me to-"

"Yes."

The word comes out before you can even think about stopping it. You do want it — whatever he's offering, you think, you want it.

You lean towards each other at the same time, puzzle pieces falling into place. Steve opens his arms wide and you move into them like it's your home (sometimes it seems to be), hiding your face into the crook of his neck. He wraps an arm around you like you're something valuable, precious, worth protecting.

Steve seems to have been carved out of kindness, of compassion. Made to love and be loved.

You rest your head on his chest, breathing in his scent, a little nervous at first, a little hesitant.

Steve brings his hand to your head, long fingers massaging your scalp slowly, carefully.

"You okay?"

The smile on your face won't come off easily, you're certain. "Perfect," you whisper, and close your eyes.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things drabble #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb

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babyjakes · 3 years ago

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happy to see you. [blurb.]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | steve coaxes you out of your shell the first time you become little around him.

pairing | daddy!steve rogers x little!reader

warnings | sfw regression (daddy!steve little!reader), reader’s first time being little around steeb, very shy!reader, sOFT!daddy!steve the softsoftsoftest <3, just very fluffy and nice and sweet :’-)

word count | 411

requested by @nony-bear | Hehe I know I’m early but I wanted to send in a blurb idea because I love you and I’m so proud of you and your blurbs are always so good 😊 also I know I’ve gotten several requests written by you before so if you want to save me for last or another time that’s okay too 💕 but I was wondering if I could have a blurb where either Steve or Andy are with their little and it’s early on in the dynamic so the reader is being a little shy and the daddy is a little nervous too but he talks to her and gets her to open up a little and giggle and blush and then they end up cuddling or something like that

an | friend friend friend omg yaaay i’m so glad i get to write more stuff for you hehe <3 thankyou so much for this request i love this idea so much, hope it’s okay i went with steve. he’s just the softest, nicest daddy and so soothing to little!reader when things are starting out – hope you enjoy!

Though it’s never happened before, the first time you drop into littlespace around Steve, he somehow instantly knows it.

You’ve appeared in the doorway to your shared bedroom, waiting cautiously in the wooden frame of the door as the blonde-haired man relaxes on the bed, shading away at something in his sketchbook.

As soon as Steve catches a glimpse of your almost trembling form, he lowers his work, his gaze drifting up to meet yours. One look at your slightly cowering demeanor and he knows, his face softening immediately as he offers you a warm smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he coos, his voice much gentler than usual. Dropping your gaze down to the floor, you bite your bottom lip, unsure of what to say. Am I supposed to tell him, you ask yourself, how is he gonna know?

“You need something, lovebug?” the man’s sweet voice interrupts your racing mind. Looking up shyly at him, all you can manage to do is blink. “Hey,” he hums, keeping his voice mild and soothing, “S'alright sweetheart. You just looking for a little time with Daddy?”

Perking up slightly at his use of the word, you nod, earning another brilliant smile from Steve. “Yeah? Come on over then, peanut. I could use some good snuggles right about now.”

Making your way over to the bed still somewhat shyly, you climb up next to the broad man, melting instantly into his arms as he pulls you in close and shifts you onto his lap. “There’s my good girl, hi baby,” he sings, bouncing you gently on his legs. “How’s my sweetie pie doin’ today, hmm?”

“Good,” you mumble shyly, heat rising through your cheeks as he runs a soothing hand across your back in broad circles.

“Yeah?” Steve chuckles softly, planting a gentle kiss on your cheek. “What’ve you gone quiet for, doll? Just feelin’ a little shy?” Nodding, you tuck your head against his shoulder, inhaling the safe, familiar scent of your partner as he coos over you dotingly. “Aww, that’s okay, princess. Just so precious, aren’t you, bunny? Daddy’s sweet baby girl.”

“Daddy’s baby,” you repeat, allowing yourself gradually to slip further and further into that warm, fuzzy headspace you’ve been craving for so long to surrender to.

“That’s right,” Steve smiles proudly, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up to his lips to plant a kiss on your pinky. “Daddy’s little baby. M'so happy to see you, honey.”

#eun's writing #happy to see you #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers headcanon #daddy!steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #captain america #captain america fanfiction #hurt/comfort

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onsunnyside · 2 years ago

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did someone say holes?? 👀 hehe thinking about himbo frat steve and his beauty 😌💕 i see wimwim steeb as catfa steeb so his hair is long, his shirts are tight, such a sweetie. he's going to sink into mastermind!reader for the first time and lose his fucking mind 👁👄👁 things are gonna get rough quick

MHHHM !! he is in his clean sweet innocent himbo era, he doesn't even know he's falling for mastermind!reader until he realizes how bothered he is when she isn't around, or when she doesn't answer his texts (all is intentional on her part ofc), and he asks the guys about it: "You like her, Steve. Plain and simple." bc yes he needed it spelt out for him.

and the first time you two have sex 😳😳 he's so sweet and nervous, asking if you're okay bc he knows he's BIG, but then you call him baby 🫡 and all care flies out the window (bc at this point, he's in DEEP and has daydreamed about being your baby)

#brandycranby<3 #wimwim: steve #wimwim ask #fic ask

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anika-ann · 3 years ago

Text

His Lucky Charm: Subpoena pt.1

Type: two-shot to (mini)series or a standalone

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 9100

Summary: subpoena (verb) – to order someone to go to a law court to answer questions

Following Steve’s discovery and more importantly his unsubtle methods, you are forced to reveal your secret to the world’s mightiest heroes. It goes about as well as expected.

Warnings: allusions to smut (so at least 15+), Tony being a D, angry Steeb, mention of self-loathing, discussion on treating people who are different, mention of death, briefest mention of Nzis, language!!, some fluff

A/N: Two-part addition to the series. Follows chapter four. The second part will be concerned with @secretswiftymarvelfan‘s request she earned by winning a challenge ;) Dialogue heavy and I’m not sorry...much.

Story masterlist

For those who believe, no prove is necessary. For those who don’t, no prove is possible. – Stuart Chase

For Steve, nine months always felt like a long time.

When he was littler, sometimes his cough got so bad it lasted that long, and it would have been a whole year if it wasn’t for warm summers.

When at the front, minutes felt like hours, days like months, and actual months like years – and nine ‘years’ on a battlefield were damn endless.

The nine months after he woke up in a different millennium provided him with enough time to adjust to certain things – and yet it wasn’t enough for him to assimilate fully.

When it came to a relationship, nine months felt like an eternity, the good kind. Had it been his old times, he would have popped the question and married you – a woman he loved from the depth of his heart – in quarter of the time. He might appreciate today’s tendency of actually getting to know your partner further before taking that step, but if he was being honest… getting to one knee in front of you crossed his mind more than once recently.

Nine months since your first date and here he was, standing in the private elevator leading to the residential floors of the Avengers’ Tower with you, a bundle of nerves by his side, because there were some big news you needed to share with his teammates.

He certainly would have preferred to be telling them you were getting married; and seeing you fumble with your hands, dismay written all over your face, it occurred to him that maybe he should tell them exactly that to distract his team from his crazy behaviour yesterday. He was almost certain he could get you playing along, earning your gratitude for coming up with a sweet alternative to what was really going to happen.

An alternative that didn’t involve revealing the secret you were so expertly keeping even from him until yesterday to four other people. Steve thanked god you had taken today off, having known he’d be back from a mission; it meant that after receiving numerous phonecalls and texts, he could promise his teammates in the groupchat that he’d stop by in the afternoon to explain why on Earth he had shot at his own suit. Multiple times. Because he wouldn’t do this without you – not when you were at the centre of this and it was your secret to tell.

He certainly didn’t look forward to telling his friends that his girlfriend was a witch and she had put a spell on his lucky charm that actually saved his life either way. It went without saying that you too would rather keep it between the two of you; unfortunately, that was no longer an option, hence you being a nervous wreck. Steve couldn’t hold it against you.

When your hands moved to your skirt, crumbling the poor fabric, Steve couldn’t stand it anymore, grasping them to his own to stop the destruction.

You looked up at him alarmed and bashful at once; all he could do was to try to give you a reassuring smile and kiss your right palm, frankly caring little about how damp and clammy it had grown.

“Steve, I- do we-" you stuttered, gulping when he repeated the action with your other hand.

“Yes, angel?”

He loved how your eyes softened, the tenderness in them briefly replaced by an unfairly dimmed sparkle of amusement.

“Nice try, but… do we really have to?” you whimpered, adding your best impression of puppy eyes, pleading him to call this whole thing off.

He found it cute – and yet not cute at all. He couldn’t be mad at you for not wanting to share your secret, that wasn’t it, he would be on your side actually. He just hated the fear that crept into your voice, the resignation that came with asking despite knowing the answer.

Because for long, keeping that secret might have meant survival to you. Fuck, he didn’t have nearly enough time with you to talk all the things through to find out. But he would. He swore he would, as long as you’d be willing. He’d talk to you about anything, fears included, and worked on soothing every single one of them.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead, a pang of guilt stinging in his gut. “I wasn’t thinking yesterday and I have some explaining to do. We both do.”

He squeezed your hands as you nodded, the numbers on the elevator climbing seemingly more slowly than usual; perhaps Jarvis was that considerate.

“I know. It wasn’t your fault. It’s just… I really don’t want to.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” he rushed, receiving a grimace at the cliché phrase in return.

He shook his head, pressing your palms together and enveloping them in his own hands. You looked up at him, lips a thin line, corners of your mouth lifted in an attempt of a smile. He reciprocated and leaned in to lay a lingering kiss to your forehead; your shuddery exhale tickled his collar in response.

“I know I can’t promise they will take it well. And I’m not doing that, but… I will not let anything happen to you. That I can promise, angel.”

“I know that,” you whispered, your smile turning a fraction more genuine as you pecked his lips. “But you cannot stop them from not liking me anymore.”

Steve barely managed to open his mouth, no appropriate reply on his tongue when the elevator door finally slid open, causing you to take a quick step back from him; which likely looked comical, since Steve had no intention of letting go of your hands.

A chorus of surprised ‘hey’ and ‘hi’ welcomed you, followed by a light-hearted shout.

“Heeey, look what the cat dragged in! Not one bird, but two lovebirds!”

The corners of Steve’s lips twitched as he kept one of your hands in his and walked out of the elevator. Hearing your nervous chuckle at Clint’s joke, he made a mental note to buy that man a month’s supply of high-quality coffee.

The team was already splayed over the centre of the living room – Clint half-lying on a couch, Natasha standing by, her hip propped onto the backrest, Tony sitting in an armchair, elbows leaning onto his thighs and Bruce hovering above the other armchair but clearly feeling too uneasy to actually sit down.

It left the other couch vacant for you, but Steve didn’t think he could sit down right now and he doubted you felt any different.

“Hilarious, Barton, top-notch comedy,” Tony commented, unimpressed, as you and Steve finally stopped few feet from the group. “Your circus background is showing.”

“Pff, I think it’s safe to say I still am in one.”

You made a small choked sound next to Steve at the savage remark, hand twitching in his. Two months’ supply for Clint it was.

“Won’t really argue with that,” Bruce sighed, crossing his arms on his chest. “Uhm, not that I don’t like seeing you both, but… didn’t we have something we needed to talk about, Steve?”

Steve felt a wave of defensiveness rose in his chest despite knowing it was to be expected. The rest of the Avengers didn’t have the information he had, not yet – they didn’t know your presence was indispensable here.

He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over its back when he felt you tense up by his side.

“We did. That’s why we’re both here,” he explained simply, earning a sceptical glare from the Ironman himself – but various levels of surprise were evident on everyone’s face.

“Just so we’re clear, you want her to hear about how you went bonkers and shot at your suit?” Tony asked, causing Steve to sigh. “Sure, be my guest.”

Steve took a deep breath, his suspicions confirmed. This was going to be very very hard; but the fact that he himself didn’t know nearly enough and was still letting the fact that you were a witch sink in would not be the reason.

In other words, if Tony could tune down being a jerk, it would be splendid.

“I ‘went bonkers’ for a reason. I was testing a theory and I was right. Have you all seen the footage?”

“Yeah. But you kinda know your angles so we didn’t see everything,” Clint hummed, clearly resolving to sit up since the talk was about to get real.

The new piece of information threw Steve off – he assumed his friends would be up to speed, already knowing about the drawing. He thought you two would only be here to provide the additional explanation.

For a moment, he wavered – perhaps he really could play this off, sweep it under a rug. It would make everything so much easier… but one glance at Natasha told him it was definitely not an option. If anything, she needed to understand what happened yesterday that had him breathing despite getting shot by a bullet that should have most definitely kill him.

He squeezed your hand again before reluctantly letting go and taking a step forward.

“Well. Yesterday on a mission… there was a strange occurrence, Natasha knows this,” he supplied, earning the redhead four glances including yours. She subtly nodded. “I got shot by one of the modified bullets. Straight in the chest, only a few feet distance.”

The image of the man flickered in front of his eyes, a painfully sharp memory of tasting fear of death punching him in the gut. The intensity surprised him, his eyes slipping shut; but here you were, warm palm landing on his back as if you could sense his discomfort. His shoulders automatically relaxed, your touch lingering only for a moment and yet it soothed him. He gave you a side-eye with a grateful smile, which you shakily returned.

“Hold on a sec. Those bullets were— well, deadly for sure. How the hell are you still walking? Not that I’m not glad that you do, but… you know.”

It was almost sweet how Clint’s reaction practically mimicked Natasha’s: not that I’m not glad that you’re alive, but what the hell?

“That’s what I asked myself too. Until I realized a few things and had to test my theory, which turned out to be right.”

“What’s the theory?” Bruce interjected almost instantly, uncomfortably shortening the time Steve hoped to get to gather his thoughts. How could he best explain this?

“That when Y/N once asked me to wear a drawing I made for her with me on a mission as a lucky charm… she didn’t mean it figuratively,” he said in the end.

He realized how confusing his words were the moment they left his mouth; and indeed, everyone bar you stared at him baffled.

“You lost me, Cap. What the hell are you on about?”

For once, Steve couldn’t hold Tony’s reaction against him. He shook his head at himself.

“Sorry. I wear a drawing in my suit, as a lucky charm of sorts. And I found out that… when the drawing was in the suit, the bullets didn’t penetrate it. When I took it out… well, you’ve seen the damage the gun made.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, by the way,” Tony uttered ironically, as if he had completely missed the point Steve was making. Steve wanted to roll his eyes, but he was getting too restless, feeling your own unease rising as you stood by his side.

“Hold on a second—a drawing made your suit more bullet-proof?” Clint asked the relevant question, being yet again the best ally Steve had ever since you two walked in.

“Yes,” Steve confirmed, taking a deep breath before supplying the crucial information. “Because it has a protective spell over it.”

Silence covered the room like a scratchy blanket, causing you to fidget, your hands working on ruining the fabric of your skirt – instinctively, Steve took your right hand to still the frantic movements of your fingers, clasping at your hand gently.

The simple gesture drew everyone’s gaze, breaking the silence and stillness.

“Did you hit your head yesterday?” Bruce asked swiftly, head snapping to Natasha not longer than two seconds later, his face puzzled. “Did he hit his head?”

“A spell?” Clint questioned, left eyebrow arched doubtfully. “What-“

“I put it there to help keep Steve safe,” you pipped up shyly, gaze flickering between the Avengers. “And I could do that, because… I’m a witch.”

The silence that followed was no less striking and motionless than the first one – except this time, all the gazes tailed to you, doubtful expressions plastered over everyone’s but Steve’s face; at least Natasha looked more pensive than anything, surely already piecing together all the information she had.

“Alright, I’m gonna be the one to ask,” Tony challenged crossing his arms on his chest, subtly pointing at you. “Are you high? Did you start baking edibles?”

The surge of anger rushing into Steve’s veins at the unnecessary and unfunny joke must have shown in his expression, because Tony turned to him.

“Is this a prank?”

Steve closed his eyes, mentally counting to three as he heard you draw in a sharp breath; no, he couldn’t burst out, that would help nothing. Still, he didn’t give you the chance to answer.

“No, Tony, neither of us is high or suffers a head trauma and we are not joking. You saw the footage–you brought me my old suit. I texted you to do it, because the drawing was there and Y/N insisted on me having the drawing on me. At that time I didn’t know why. But I do know now that I’d be dead if she didn’t.”

Guilt gnawed at his stomach when he saw how his choice of words brought a haunted expression to your face; running his thumb over the back of your hand, he pulled you back into the present, earning a shaky smile. Your gaze travelled over him quickly, intense, as if you were checking he was alright, body and soul intact.

Could you do that? Check if his soul was alright? Could you see auras or something? There was just so much Steve didn’t know about you and your abilities-

And he wasn’t the only one. His friends were watching at the two of you wordlessly, obsessively following every move, every minute shift of expression. They appeared to be in various stages of shock, disbelief and contemplation. For a moment, Steve wasn’t sure they were even breathing with how still they were, processing the revelation almost as if in trance. Not even the small pitiful sound you made when the tense silence stretched broke their reverie, which was all the worse for you.

Steve cleared his throat, pulling you closer to his side by a few inches, trying to offer you at least some comfort.

“I hope it goes without saying that this information does not leave this room. I’m telling you because I acted strange yesterday and you all saw at least part of it in the footage,” Steve stated, relieved that the sculptures the Avengers had become came back to life at his words. He glanced at you meaningfully now that he had their attention again. “And because Y/N agreed with telling you.”

“You only found out yesterday, too,” Natasha said, stating rather than asking.

“Yes.”

The thoughtful expressions turned to calculating ones, Tony’s gaze narrowing.

“You’re… a witch,” Clint repeated the word reluctantly as if testing the single syllable in his mouth.

“Yes,” you confirmed with the same hesitation and Steve wanted to punch the world for the fearful tone that crept into your voice. “It’s… it runs in the family.”

“Right. So… you’ve always been a witch.”

It was Bruce this time; and Steve’s heart jumped in his chest in alarm when he saw a shadow of green pain the side of his neck, the Hulk pushing through to join the conversation.

Quick as a lightning, Steve instinctively moved in front of you even if you seemed oblivious to the change in skin colour.

Either you trusted Steve to protect you, which you certainly could, because there was no way Hulk could do as much as a step in your direction without Steve jumping between the two of you, or you thought you might deserve an encounter with a giant green monster; the latter option was considerably less comforting and it made his throat feel tight.

“Yes,” you said simply from behind him, palm gently landing on Steve’s lower back.

If it was a request to have him stand down, Steve would be happy to ignore your wish for once. That was not happening, no fucking way. Not when the green shade still played on Bruce’s skin and not when Tony’s eyes snapped to your hand the second you touched Steve.

“I really think the Avengers should talk in private-“ the billionaire started off, causing anger to flare in Steve’s gut so intensely he could barely keep his voice even when he interrupted Tony.

“No way in hell, Tony. She stays if you want to talk some more.”

“Hell yes, I want to know more!” Tony snapped, jumping to his feet, this time making you actually recoil. Steve swallowed the growl that clawed its way up his chest, pissed both at Tony’s outburst and the loss of your touch. “You just walked in here and told us your girlfriend of eight months-“

“Nine months-“ you uttered silently, completely ignored.

“-is a witch! I think that discussing this further is kind of a non-brainer!” Tony finished, glaring at you accusingly.

Steve felt a visceral need to shield you even from that glare, but through the fog of anger – because why were they so mean about this, mean to you when they had liked you before – he had to admit Tony was right. Even if he hated it. He glanced at you over his shoulder, stepping back to be by your side again. You didn’t try to touch him this time and Steve only felt his irritation rise.

“That is a fair point, I suppose. But we’re not gonna talk about Y/N behind her back.”

“Maybe we should,” Bruce grumbled, exchanging a pointed look with Tony that spoke of understanding between the two scientists.

Steve didn’t catch on on the topic of the silent conversation but frankly he didn’t care.

“Like hell.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered meekly, causing everyone’s gaze to snap to you, including Steve’s.

It was strange; looking at you made him both calmer and yet much angrier, because it was obvious why you agreed and Steve would not have it. But he lowered his voice, mindful of not making you feel like his anger had anything to do with you.

“It’s really not, sweetheart.”

“It is. I get it,” you assured him. Steve felt the muscles on his jaw lock firmly, noting the shadow on your face; an echo the same expression you had had when you told him it was okay if he was in your home to neutralize you. You fixed a small smile now even, one Steve could never believe was a display of happiness. “Avengers assemble and all that. I can just wait in the next room or-“

“Jarvis can take you,” Tony butted in, smug satisfaction in his voice that had Steve’s hands clench into fists. “J, conference room 28.2, take her.”

Steve hated it. He hated it from the bottom of his heart, but he now understood that if he wanted to move forward, this was necessary. Taking a deep breath, he searched your eyes, your determination shining over the wordless apologies which just made his blood boil.

No apologies were needed. You should not be made feel like you had to apologize for who you were. Ever. Not to him, not to anyone.

Sidestepping you again, shielding you from most of the prying gazes and showing his back to his irritating friends, he reached out to your face, cradling it in his palms; your cheeks felt too hot to touch, but he kept his temper rising at that for later to deal with. You didn’t need that now.

You smiled at him shakily. “I’m s-“

He pecked your lips with a speed of light before the stupid words could come out of your mouth. He caressed your nose with his, breathing you in, dropping a brief kiss to your burning forehead.

“Give me a few minutes, angel.”

“Of course, love.” You added the petname in a barely audible voice, but it made the tension in his shoulders ease a little.

That was until he let go of you and watched you walk away, an almost undetectable wobble to your steps, your fingers already going crazy with their signature fumbling. Understandably; leaving was nerve-wrecking for you – and for him too.

“I don’t like this,” he declared just before the door slid shut behind you and then he was left with his teammates. Teammates that were really getting on his nerves at the moment.

“Neither do we. I kinda wanted to ask her if she uses some magic dust in her cupcakes, because honestly, they’re just… well, magical,” Clint hummed, his light-hearted attempt on easing the tension making the corner of Steve’s lips twitch, while Natasha raised her eyebrow and Tony with Bruce just looked at him as if he had gone mad.

“The word you’re looking for is addicting, Clint, and it’s the sugar,” Nat hummed with a smirk before her expression sobered. “I admit neither talking with her here or without her isn’t ideal, but there are things we should address.”

And just like that, Steve automatically turned defensive.

“Things like what? She’s a descendant of witches. Not that it matters, but according to her words, she’s not very powerful, she only possesses a fraction of the abilities her ancestors had and-“

“And you believe her?” Tony interrupted him, cackling harshly.

Steve’s anger lit up brighter than the fireworks on fourth July, tendons in his jaw twitching.

What kind of a question is that?!

“Of course I believe her! Why wouldn’t I?”

“Probably because she could be lying-“ Clint hummed, instantly cut off by Steve’s murderous glare. He raised his hands swiftly as if to show he meant to harm. “I’m not saying she IS! Just explaining what he meant.”

Steve rolled his eyes, turning back to Tony who seemed adamant about being not only an ass, but also difficult. “She’s not lying. She has no reason to lie to me and she wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Okay, I say that risking a death glare,” Natasha said slowly and Steve froze; he had hoped she would be the first to take his side since she saw you save his life in real time. “But I understand where the concern is coming from. She hid this from you for nine months and you live together for what, for four? That’s a lot of time.”

“BAM! Thank you!”

Steve grinded his teeth, ignoring Tony’s display of childishness; it took a lot of self-control on his part not to respond in a similarly silly manner.

Because this whole thing was silly. Absurd even. What, were they trying to convince him you were some kind of a mole? A spy-witch sent to seduce him? Please. Had they not met you? You had no mean bone in your body. You were sweet, funny, occasionally very dirty-minded but otherworldly good.

Yes, he’d prefer you hadn’t lied to him but he could see your side of things which was something the rest of the Avengers seemed uncapable of now. But he’d make them see.

“Yes, it is a rather long time. But honestly, can you blame her? Given who we are and what we do?” he asked, not expecting and answer. “Not to mention how people treat someone different in general. How do you think her past relationships went? We didn’t even get to talk about that yet, but how much do you want to bet that there were people who found out and walked away because of it? Wanted to hurt her for it?”

His voice cracked at the word which he hated, but not more than the reason why it did. Hurt. For a few moments, you had thought he would hurt you upon learning the truth about you. He barely fought off the shudder at the memory of you telling him it would be okay.

“I hear you. I do. We all saw and lived through trauma first-hand. And I see why she’d be scared to be viewed as a threat. I’m just saying… it’s not just a long time, Steve, it’s s a lot of deceit to hie something like that. It takes skill,” Natasha noted, the unspoken I would know hanging in the air.

Steve gulped at the flicker of vulnerability – but he was grateful at least she attempted to understand. Grateful but not surprised; Natasha had more compassion for others than people gave her credit for; more than she herself did.

“I know that, but she probably had to hide her whole life. How much have any of us done in order to protect ourselves? That’s all that is – protection,” Steve emphasized. “She was lucky no one reported her to the authorities when she told them or they found out on their own.”

“Maybe they wanted to and are now in a ditch somewhere.”

Steve’s irritation spiked as he snapped his head to Tony, voice like razors.

“You’d better be joking, Tony.”

“Ok, fine, probably not. Whatever. She could have just wiped their memory or something. Messing with their mind is less messy, but that’s my point. How do you know she’s not whammied you? How do we know it’s you and not some kind of a spell talking?”

And suddenly, it became perfectly clear why they wanted to separate the two of you, why they had sent you away. The edges of Steve’s vision turned red.

“Is that why you wanted me here alone?! To find out if I’m not under some kind of spell? I’m not! She wouldn’t do that for God’s sake!”

“Oh, right. She wouldn’t do that,” Tony mimicked mockingly. “Because you know her so well. Dammit Rogers!”

“Yes! Yes, I actually do!”

Tony’s face twisted from sceptical to downright incredulous.

“You didn’t know she was a witch until yesterday!” he cried out in indignation, throwing his hands in the air, causing Steve’s nails dig into his palms because alright, Tony had a point in that, but he just didn’t understand how many things about you that truly mattered Steve knew. “So excuse me if I’m little sceptical. This… all this, can be her game. To bewitch you to infiltrate us.”

“Now you’re just being paranoid-“

“Well someone has to when our fearsome fearless leader is high on the love-juice!” Tony snapped, chest heaving – as did Steve’s.

And all of sudden, Steve was hyperaware of the remaining trio watching the two of them. He willed himself to close his eyes, taking a slow calming breath and running a hand down his face. Shouting wouldn’t get them anywhere, but he was honestly getting tired of the any kind of verbal communication since it clearly wasn’t working.

“I understand what you mean, but she’s not like that. And I know what I feel. I’m not-“

“How can you know what you feel?” Tony jumped in again, much to Steve’s irritation. “Hell, you supposedly fell in love with her coming to the café. For all we know she could have slipped some kind of freaky love potion into your drink! Or… or sprinkle your muffins with some-- spell drug! You could be under her voodoo for months. You literally just told us that having her drawing on you protected you. So maybe you have something else on you that’s making you crazy for her!”

Oh for-

“It was my drawing, she just… put a spell on it.” And on me, just not the way you think. “And I can assure you I loved her just as much when I was wearing nothing at all.”

“Ew! TMI! Jesus. So TMI. See?” Tony called out, gesturing to Steve wildly as he spared the others a pointed look. “Cap would never say that!”

Natasha crossed her arms on her chest, shrugging lightly as a hint of a smirk played in the corner of her lips.

“I don’t know, you should hear him swearing during mission when the comms are off--- Oh, and he’s blushing now.”

“I am not,” Steve protested in an instant despite feeling his face growing hot.

Clint made a small doubtful sound. “Yeeeeeah, you kinda are.”

Steve’s face was set aflame completely and he cleared his throat, trying not to stray to the thought of you doing things to his heart and mind that made him no doubt blush just as much.

“Whatever, we’re getting side-tracked here,” Tony brought them back to reality. “She touches you all the damn time. You could be under her spell right now.”

For Merlin’s sake-

“You base your theories on the fact that she touches her boyfriend of nine months?” Steve questioned, not bothering to mask his wry tone. “Now excuse me if I’m a little sceptical. I’m not under some spell.”

“How would you know?!”

1, 2, 3, 4… 10. Nope, still not calmer.

Steve couldn’t believe this. And to think he had assumed his teammates would be cross-examining you at this point, asking all possible details about your powers that he himself didn’t know yet… How much can a man be wrong?

“I—ugh. We’re running in circles here, Tony. So you know what? Yes. I am under her spell. She is pretty charming after all,” Steve exclaimed, his voice unwittingly softening when he spoke of your qualities.

“Look at that little sass bag. He has jokes now. Hilarious, Rogers. Fucking hilarious!”

“It’s because you’re being absurd now.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are!” Steve cried out.

It was so frustrating to know he was right but no one saw it, no one was hearing what he was saying!

It was like fighting with all those people who denied various things that clearly existed, like with that guy in the café the other day. That asshole was firmly convinced that holocaust didn’t happen and was trying to explain it to Steve – to an actual living World War II. veteran.

Apparently, some people couldn’t be reasoned with, not even with solid proves it seemed-

“Oh my god, that’s it, isn’t it?” Steve blurted out, astonished as the revelation dawned to him.

“What?” Tony scoffed, unimpressed.

“You cannot prove if I’m right or wrong. There’s no way to get an objective tangible prove and it’s driving you crazy.”

“Please. That’s absurd.”

Despite his words, Tony’s face spoke the exact opposite and Steve couldn’t help the pride puffing in his chest as he hit the nail on the head. It seemed you could take a scientist out of a lab, but you couldn’t…

“I dunno, he’s onto something,” Clint hummed, sounding slightly amused and Steve eyed him, satisfaction warm in his gut when as he felt the victory. Not only getting to the root of the problem – but also solidifying Clint’s position on his – and yours – side.

“So you’re on his side now, Barton?” Tony bit out.

“Oh for God’s sake, are we in a kindergarten?” Natasha interjected, heat of emotion and coldness of rationality at once. “No one’s picking sides, we’re trying to talk like adults and failing. Spectacularly.”

To be frank, Steve felt a pang of guilt at how childishly happy and self-satisfied he was to get Clint on his team. Bless Natasha to be the person with some sense in the room.

He stuck his chin out, forcing his shoulders to slightly relaxed instead of squaring them as he would like to.

“Tony, look. Honestly… I hear what you’re saying, I do. But you’ll just have to trust me on this,” he offered in a conciliatory manner, earning a humourless scoff from the billionaire.

“How?”

“Because I love her and it’s not because she put some kind of a spell on me or slipped me a love potion,” Steve shrugged, a smile creping on his face. “And yes, I can’t prove it, but like it or not, feelings aren’t an exact science, not everything can be objectively proved-“

“Actually,” Bruce spoke up for the first time in a while and despite the annoyance at being interrupted, Steve found himself grateful his friend was free of any green colour on his skin at last, “-if we’re talk about love, there are specific chemical reactions. Hormones, pheromones and physical signs-“

Steve once thought he was the voice of reason, working with facts, but under Merlin’s eye Bruce and Tony could put him to utter shame.

“Oh come on, Bruce! Be as it might, you cannot reduce love to science only. It’s more than that. And if she had put a spell on me, all this science would probably be useless against it anyway,” Steve tried to reason, using their own logic against them.

Bruce had nothing to say after that.

“Deal with it. There’s likely to be no other prove. I trust science, but I believe in my instincts too. And I trust her.”

I trust her. I love her. Can’t you see how profoundly good she is? Can’t you see how absurd and ridiculously long this conversation is?

Judging by Tony’s scoff, no, they couldn’t.

“I don’t like this,” he muttered, swiftly waving above the glass table Steve had believed was only glass until it lit up with various controls, a flat holographic projection floating and filling the space between Steve’s and Tony’s chests.

Steve felt his blood pressure skyrocket, his vision blacking out for a second when the image cleared enough to reveal a pacing woman, her fingers fumbling frantically.

“Are you serious right now?!” Steve exploded, pulse loud in his ears. “Get it the fuck out of my face right now-“

“I mean look at her,” Tony said with a frown, ignoring Steve’s outburst. “She keeps doing that thing with her fingers. For all we know, she’s doing some alohomora right now.”

“For god’s sake, Tony! That’s her nervous tick! You’ve seen it before!”

“Well, I didn’t have all the information then, did I?!”

“That doesn’t matter! She’s still the same person you met!” Steve cried out, out of breath and out of his mind because there was a live feed of you walking like a tiger – no, a scared kitten – trapped in a figurative cage where they had no reason to be and it was driving him insane with rage and sorrow for you.

Was this how you were made feel for the most of your life? Steve hated this, he fucking hated this so intensely it made him sick to his stomach, a ghost of a hand digging its fingers into the flesh of his heart and yet it had to be nothing compared to what nightmares must have haunted you; about being examined like some kind of a rare species, held prisoner in the name of greater good.

This could be how people made you feel in the past and now his friends were doing exactly that; he wanted to throw up. He wanted to punch something.

“Could you please turn this off? She’s not in a holding cell.”

“Technically, I had the door locked, so-“

The next thing Steve remembered was a crimson edge flickering in his vision and his fist being faster than his brain; followed by the hologram fuzzing as his knuckles broke through it, meeting Tony’s nose with the precision of an enhanced and fuming supersoldier.

And fuck, did it feel good.

Before he could chase that feeling and pounce on the billionaire who now had the same crimson Steve had seen pouring between his fingers, a considerably smaller hand landed on his chest, a pressure not big enough to hold him back – but to make him think twice.

Steve blinked, momentarily wavering as he followed the line of the hand on him, gaze flickering to Natasha’s face, his vision clearing. She wasn’t looking at him however, trying to see Tony through the outraging picture still between them.

“Stark, come on, there’s no need for this. No need for violence either,” she said glancing at Steve meaningfully, making the tinniest hint of shame bloom is his ribcage, before turning back to Tony. “And Rogers does have a point in this. Sometimes a horse is just a horse. She does that when she’s nervous. Some people babble, some people shut down, some bite their nails. She fumbles with her hands. And yes, Steve and her are tactile. Some couples just are. What’s wrong with that?”

Steve would thank her is he wasn’t too busy glaring at Tony, trying to wave the hologram away himself with no avail, causing him to snarl. Tony stared Natasha down as she seemed to be taking Steve’s side, pouting.

He could pout all he wanted to, but this discussion was over. This absurd live feed and you being locked up – for God’s sake!! – ended right now.

“Unlock the door or I swear I’ll break it. Can you blame her for keeping her nature a secret? You’re proving her point perfectly. You learned she’s a witch, what, twenty minutes ago, and you already locked her up? She’s not a criminal,” Steve implored, scoffing angrily when Tony merely raised one eyebrow as if challenging his statement. But Steve could take a challenge; and the door in the Tower conference room posed none to him. “Fine. Have it your way then.”

Turning on his heels, he barely made two large steps when Tony’s words made him halt in his stride.

“You’re right,” he said quietly, irritation lacing his voice and Steve froze. Well, that’s a first. “Jesus, yeah. I don’t like that we cannot prove anything. I need some hard facts here, Rogers.”

Taking a deep breath, Steve reminded himself that this was an olive branch. Even if the floating video of you would still be there when he’d turned back to his friends, he couldn’t punch anyone… again. He gulped, facing Tony once more, determined.

“Well, here’s a fact. You all met her and as far as I know, you liked her. Where is the problem? Were you all wrong too? Are you under her spell?”

Tony’s eyes looked at something behind Steve’s head, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Wow. Thanks for another thing to keep me awake at night. If we are, clearly, it’s not working on me.”

No shit.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Steve noted dryly, mind racing in the last attempt to make them – Tony – understand. “Look… sometimes we have to accept that there isn’t any tangible prove. How do you know you and Pepper love each other?”

“It’s obvious.”

Steve’s eyebrows jumped at Tony’s quick reply, exactly the one Steve wanted to hear.

“Because a that’s very scientific explanation,” he hummed with, one corner of his lips rising in a smirk, much to Tony’s obvious irritation.

“Bite me, Einstein!”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, reminding himself he couldn’t stoop to Tony’s childish level if he wanted to have the upper hand… not completely.

“All I’m saying is… there are people who claim that Pepper was deceiving you from the start to make you give her Stark Industries.”

“That’s absurd,” Tony spat back without a second of hesitation, earning a pointed look from both Steve and Natasha.

“Absurd sounds familiar,” the redhead noted knowingly. Tony’s head snapped in her direction, glaring in betrayal. Steve made a mental note to buy Natasha and Clint some vacation.

“You could twist virtually anything around,” Steve added, calmer. “Why do you protect Pepper at any given chance? Because you love her? That could be just you, deceiving her, so she thinks you love her--- hold on now, hear me out. I’m being absurd, yes, I know that. But that’s exactly the point. Sometimes you just have to have faith in people. And I have faith that she’d never do that to me. And that my feelings are my own.”

“He’s not wrong, Tony. Yes, I might be watching her a little more closely now, but if there was some foul play, we would have spotted it – but I saw the opposite. That woman there?” Natasha said softly, pointing to the still present hologram of you. “She loves Steve. And he’s head over heels for her.”

Steve didn’t bother denying that, despite Tony’s lips twitching at the idea. Har har. He was in love and wanted to marry you one day… soon. Sure, it was hysterical., laugh it up

Fortunately, Nat continued to make her point.

“She just… happens to be a witch. And well, he’s a supersoldier born over a hundred years ago. So what. Boy meets girl, they fall in love. Maybe it’s that simple. She deserves the benefit of the doubt – she saved Steve’s life and she’s done nothing to harm any of us,” she paused, as if in thought; her eyes twinkled with a little mischief. “Except for being a really good baker, it’s pretty hard to keep in shape with her making delicious pastries.”

Clint nodded solemnly, patting his belly gently in agreement; if not with everything, then with the last statement for sure.

Tony sighed, half-annoyed at the archer, half-defeated.

“I don’t like this…” he repeated for a good measure, eyeing Bruce, who had been a passive observer of the discussion for the last few minutes. “But it looks we’ve been overruled.”

Merlin bless, the billionaire made a lazy waving gesture, causing the image of you pacing in the conference room disappear at last.

Steve let out a shuddering breath, shoulders relaxing, the echo of ache in his ribcage subduing.

“Thank you,” he said to Tony, nothing but honesty in his voice. And he wasn’t thanking just for the video going away – he was insanely relieved that he was allowed to plead your case and his plea was finally heard out. “Please tell me you can be civil-“

“Don’t push it, Cap.”

“Tony… please?”

He could deal with the billionaire spitting around frustrated remarks and jabbing him about almost anything, you included even if he’d hated it – but not you. You must not be put in the position to deal with a cranky bossy scientist acting like he got denied a high-tech toy. Because you were important – you were the most important person to him. And he would not let his friends drive you away from him; the mere idea of you abandoning him for that – or whichever reason – caused his heart to clench painfully in brief panic.

“Ugh, fine,” Tony whined, truly reminding Steve of a child without his favourite plaything. Steve stiffened an eyeroll – Tony didn’t bother and turned his eyes to heavens. “Gee, the righteous glare of yours… But I will interrogate her on how it works-“

“As far as you ask and she’s willing to tell you,” Steve agreed, emphasis on asking and your willingness in the act clear.

Tony just gifted Steve with another annoyed glare, subtly throwing his hands in the air.

“Oh for God’s--- could you stop being so annoyingly virtuous and chivalrous for five damn minutes? Jarvis, tell her to come in or… whatever.”

“I’ll go,” Steve opposed him, the idea of you coming back to the lion’s den making his stomach twist anxiously, his feet itching to run to you instead. “Please, give us some privacy?”

“Whatever.”

Clint snickered as Steve made his way out, his voice but a background noise as he marched out.

“You sure, Stark? I think Cap plans to be not so virtuous in the conference room. You better get the cleaning crew ready.”

Steve would roll his eyes; but frankly, he was rather relieved. Because jokes were good. Jokes were a promise of the things returning to normal.

That was, as normal as ‘things’ within a bunch of superheroes of whom one dated a witch could be.

The moment Steve walked into the conference room, you froze in your steps, head snapping to him; the fumble of your fingers ceased as did all your movement. You stood there like a statue, slightly hunched, painfully tense, your eyes studying Steve carefully as if you could read every second of the meeting you had missed from his face.

And maybe you could – because your eyebrows drew together, corns of your lips turning down, throat working as you gulped. Steve’s heart ached at the image of your misery, at your features twisting with guilt. There was nothing to feel guilty about; he understood your reasons for keeping your powers secret from him and hopefully, he had explained enough for the others to understand as well.

“You look tired,” you whispered, voice laced with concern and apology. “They didn’t take it well.”

“That’s not t-“ Steve stared off automatically, earning a doubtful glare from you. He huffed. “They’re just looking out for me.”

And some of them are idiots.

You nodded to yourself, a brief pained smile passing your lips as your fingers curled into a loose fist and uncurled again, arms moving to wrap your chest protectively. The physical need to replace them with his own hit Steve like a truck and he was walking towards you before the words he knew were coming even left your lips.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. None of that.”

Your gaze rose to meet his, fear melting into resignation as you opened your mouth in a half-hearted protest.

“But-“

“Angel… I love you,” Steve said gently, yet firm as he finally reached you, hands grasping your shoulders, wordlessly asking for permission to embrace you. Your arms fell to your sides limply, letting him pull you in; a soft sigh tickled his skin as you melted into his frame, drawing one of his own, your heart thundering against ribcage. “You love me.”

You chuckled as he stated it before you could, arms tentatively wrapping around his torso. “Yeah, I do.”

“And that’s all that matters here. They’ll just have to bite the bullet.”

You squeezed him on instinct.

“Sorry, bad choice of words.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered as you hid your face in his shirt, his carnal need to protect you humming in satisfaction. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and he couldn’t but smile when you tucked yourself into the hug further at the affection.

“I think it’s safe to say that Natasha and Clint are on our side,” he announced, earning a vague hum. He said ‘our’ and not just ‘your’ on purpose; because you were in this together. “Tony is... less convinced. Bruce is, well, I’m not sure, actually. They all need to process.”

Your fingers fisted the back of his shirt, your form stiffening.

“I hate I’m making the team pick sides.”

“You’re not making them to do anything,” Steve protested, meaning every word. Yes, he hated the situation, but while you were the cause, you were not at fault. The opinions of his friends were their own doing. And he’d stand a human shield with a vibranium one in his hand between you and them should it be necessary. “And I told you – if they have a problem, they take it to me. This isn’t some kind of a trial. You’re not a criminal and they aren’t the judge nor the jury.”

“Well, I really hope they’re not the executioners either, I’d hate to get burned at a stake,” you joked lightly.

It was Steve’s turn to squeeze you so tight it probably hurt. Horror-like imagery related to witch trials flooded his brain, your face twisted in agony he never witnessed flickering behind his eyelids and making him shudder. Jesus.

“Sorry, that was really dark--- I meant like, figuratively-“

“Yeah, it was pretty dark,” Steve repeated mechanically, trying to shake off the image that stubbornly took hold of his mind. Figuratively, you meant it as a figure of speech – the most dreadful play of words known to man. “That’s never gonna happen.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered again and Steve sighed. “I just--- you need your team by your side, you need to trust each other. I must not be the reason for the opposite.”

Steve shook his head and kissed your scalp tenderly, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“You’re not. We’re good. We’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Uh-huh.”

You held him a little closer as he ran a soothing hand down your back, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt in return, signalling you were not entirely convinced, fighting a battle inside you whose extent he wasn’t sure he understood; but he was determined to get at the bottom of it for both your sakes. He wanted no secrets from now on – and he’d actively work on reaching that goal.

His hands slid under your thighs, lifting you with ease and a muffled yelp on your part. He kicked away one of the chairs blindly, sitting down and positioning you sideways on his lap. Did he enjoy how you were clinging to his shoulders for balance as a bonus? Yes, he did.

Brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his index finger traced the line of your jaw, a minute pressure guiding your face to meet his gaze.

“What is it? Tell me and I’ll try to make it better,” he promised, your shy gaze softening upon his words, your palm sprawling over his chest, just above his heart.

You smiled fleetingly before you sighed; Steve hated the silence stretching, but if he wanted you to talk, he had to give you the chance to gather your thoughts.

He could never predict the turn this conversation would take.

“My dad… I told you he got shot on duty.”

Your dad. Another piece of puzzle he had learned before – another reason why you worried about Steve so much. It was funny really; choosing a man who could, while partly protected by a supersoldier serum and trained by the best fighters in the world, end up just as tragically as your late father. Occupational hazard in law enforcement.

Why you talked about it now, however, that was a mystery to Steve. Unless…

“He… didn’t?”

“He did,” you reassured him quickly, eyes snapping to his briefly. It made him weirdly grateful; you hadn’t lied. But he sensed a but coming.

“I mean, I don’t remember it, I was barely three at the time. But my mum… she was less careful with her magic back then. There were whispers about her in the city. Word is that even at the police department, things got a little weird… when a gang shooting took place, maybe my dad’s camaraderie with his colleagues wasn’t as strong as before. Maybe he was too alone, with no one having his back. And with mum being pregnant again… her magic was acting out too much. She couldn’t protect him. We left the city shortly after the funeral.”

Tears glistened in your eyes as you explained, causing Steve’s chest to tighten.

Fear, fear, fear. You carried such a heavy burden of your past, a screaming warning to keep your powers a secret before a terrible punishment would find you for revealing your true self.

A lump grew in Steve’s throat; as did his determination. He cradled your face with his free hand, his left arm holding you to him securely.

“I’m sorry, angel. But my friends will have my back as always. You’re not tearing us apart, I swear,” he declared and meant it. The storm was already gone; it would only take some time to repair the little damage it had made. “I like to think that a team that consists of a supersoldier, a god, two former assassins, a man who turns himself into a green giant and one annoying but really smart tech expert can have a little more understanding than your dad’s crew. I’m sorry about what happened.”

A real smile, however small, curled up your lips, damp with the tears which rolled down your cheeks. By Lord, you were beautiful.

“Thank you.”

Always, always, always, Steve wanted to say; but he kissed the salt off of your lips instead, thumb brushing your cheek, causing your smile to widen a fraction.

“You want to go back home?”

“Don’t I have to like… meet them all again? Be properly introduced as a witch or something?” you questioned with a frown, the light that appeared in your eyes at Steve’s suggestion poorly hidden.

“No. It’s up to you. Though I think it would be for the best to let them process for a few.”

“Okay, Steve,” you whispered with a sigh, covering his hand on your cheek with your own, causing him mirror your smile. “I guess I’d like to get a few cuddles in before I stop by at the bakery to get things ready for tomorrow.”

“I think that can be arranged.” Happily.

Despite your words, neither of you made an attempt to rise to your feet.

Instead, you simply sat there, a pair of lovers having overcome an obstacle which must have haunted you in your worst nightmares; and now, you kept watching him, gazing at him in silent wonder, a look Steve gladly reciprocated for it warmed his bones, his flesh and his soul alike.

But there was something ungraspable in the air, an emotion he had trouble to read--- he almost opens his mouth to ask just as you finally made him understand.

Hastily and yet gently, you framed his face with your palms and kissed him on the lips, tender, sweet and reverent, a love declaration without words; a worship you yourself were worthy of. Steve’s lips parted on instinct, welcoming you, fingers finding your hair to tangle in, pulling you closer and closer, appetite growing with every second of tasting you on his tongue.

Unhurriedly, each of you demanded more, lips barely drawing apart when he helped you balance yourself on his lap and straddle him. He let his hands roam as you did, indulging in the intimate dance of lovers – push and pull, touch, taste, scent – that had no place where you were currently located.

The realization made Steve withdraw from the heaven the mere touch of lips promised to bring him.

“Home?” he asked breathlessly, meeting your lips again, half-heartedly trying to stiffen his growing desire. Your skin felt so delightfully warm under his hands, breaths short and quick, touch eager… he grabbed your hips, lips moving to the side your neck, dragging his nose along the length of your throat, breathing you in and causing you to whimper in protest despite nodding.

“Yeah.”

“Good girl,” slipped from his lips before he could think twice, shocked at how good it felt to say it; and by what a beautiful shudder it elicited from you. Later. He’d address that later. “I’d hate to prove Clint right by defiling this conference room.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t ask…” Steve chuckled, retreating with a grin.

Your eyes went wide, surprise painting your face.

“Oh! Well… some other time then.”

This time, Steve couldn’t but burst out laughing; barely covering for the intense bite of hunger at his gut at your suggestion. God, he loved you to bits.

“You’re a minx, sweetheart. Other time it is,” he promised, stealing one last kiss before he pulled you to his feet – to bring you to the apartment you had turned into a loving, loving home, where he’d finish what you started here.

He’d take you home, make love on you, and make sure to get every ounce of fear and worry disappear from your head.

And in the process, he might get rid of his own.

His Lucky Charm masterlist

S.R. mastelist

Thanks for reading, loves 🥰 Drop a comment/like/reblog if you enjoyed. I am certainly not out of semi-hiatus and I live on sugar and interaction/feedback.

Stay safe and take care 💕

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