#steve rogers concept

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s concepts 9/50

Character; Steve Rogers

Kink; Breeding

Dialogue; “You look so pretty like this.”

Requested by; Anon🙊

As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, all dark content will be labled as such. Please read at your own risk.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

your hands gripped the cotton bedsheets in tight fists as steve's thick hand slammed down against your ass from behind, instantly flustering your hot skin as you cried out in pleasure.

your pussy stretched around his thick cock, riding him reverse cowgirl as he thrusted his hips up into your dripping heat, the sound of clapping skin filling the room.

"fuck... thats it, you take this dick so fucking good, my sweet fuckin' whore." steve grunted, his hands moved to grip your hips, slamming you up and down on his cock, your pussy clenching around his length as your clit slapped against his balls with each bounce, his pretty blonde locks began sticking to his forehead as sweat dripped down his cheeks from the rapid pace he was fucking you at.

"your s-so big, daddy, feels s' good." you whimpered as your juices leaked out of you, creating a cream coloured ring around the base of his shaft.

"i know baby, i know. shit, look at that, creamin' all over daddys fat dick, huh? what a messy girl you are, sweetheart." he growled as his release neared, wanting nothing more than to fill you up with his hot n sticky cum.

"gonna' cum inside this cunt til its dripping down your fuckin' thighs, you fuckin' whore..yeah? you want daddys cum? such a good little slut f' me."

"p-please daddy, need it so bad, miss the way your cum fills me up daddy." you babbled as he planted his feet against the bed, beginning to relentlessly pound into your pussy, desperate to get you pregnant with his kids.

he was quick to flip you over, staring down at you as he fucked you sensually in missionary, one hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tight as he forced you to stare into his eyes.

"you look so pretty like this, baby, all fucked out, god, i'm gonna' cum, your gonna' make me cum, oh fuck, ohhh f-fuckkk." he groaned, his hips stuttering as his warm seed began to fill you making you quiver around his length, ropes of hot cum spurting into your pussy. you whined at the feeling of his warmth stuffing you.

Steve shushed you as he leant down to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongues battled for dominance until he squeezed your throat tighter, making you gasp for breath, his tongue beginning to explore your mouth. He pulled away slowly, a trail of spit connecting your lips, the sight leaving you breathless.

"i can't wait to make you a mommy, baby, gonna' look so hot, all full and round with my kids." he rasped, his soft cock growing hard inside of you once more, growling as he began thrusting gently.

you whimpered, mentally preparing your sore cunt for round two, or three… or four.

[steggydaily]

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER (2011) —

concept art.

[lilacevans]

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍: 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ paring: dark!steve rogers x female!reader. (non-descriptive) ✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 375. ✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: choking, rough sex, stevie being stevie. ✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: @ellethespaceunicorn ✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: this one is kinda softer than the other's recently, but still steve losing his shit bc that's fun to me. anyway, enjoy my loves and as always, pls lemme know what you think!!!!<3 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒'𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ༊*·˚

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

You quickly found your favourite thing about sex with Steve was the slow climb of making him absolutely lose his shit.

The fun of gradually plucking at the strings of his resolve with every slide of your hands across his skin, every rolling wave of your hips, every soft kiss laid upon his lips; every muted moan, soft gasp, and throat-kept whine. Watching those blue eyes bleed into black as his hands tighten on your hips and his head tips back, shamelessly letting melodic, pitiful moans encapsulate the air around you both. 

You loved how a few fingers pressed tight against made him bare his teeth, sucking in a hiss as your nails stung moon-shaped marks into the creamy flesh; your own darkened eyes meeting his as the rolls of your hips were forced into harsh bounces. Your teasing moans turned into desperation as you were speared repeatedly onto his cock. You craved the diminished restraint, his unbearable need for everything you, and just how violently he was willing to take it. 

You reveled in burning marks left by the carpet as you inevitably ended up manhandled to your knees. His relentless retaliation was a hand snug around your throat that forced struggled breathy pleas out into the room as you were dragged back against the fervent snaps of his hips. Your neck was bent at its brink by Steve’s thick fingers that flexed against the columns of your neck, threatening the strength hidden behind flesh and bone; the strength that could leave you seeing stars for weeks. 

You basked in the stutter of his movements, the strangled nonsensical rambling enveloped in lust-filled moans as he neared his end. The damp forehead that rested heavily on your back as his chest heaved for air. The fingers that bruised kisses into your neck that turned into soft strokes and kept your chin cradled comfortably as your deprived lungs sucked down the oxygen. The wet, delicate lips that left a trail down your spine as you’re flipped over and pulled into the heaven of his arms. The praise that left you a puddle, the kisses that melted the pain away. 

You cherished the man that was everything Heaven and Hell. 

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Concepts

This blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, all dark content will be labled as such. Read at your own risk.

This event is no longer open to requests!

Cherry’s Concepts!

Submit your request to the form above and receive a drabble. All you have to do is choose a character, kink and dialogue! Please leave your username so i have a way to tag you once your concept has been posted, if you wish to remain anonymous that’s perfectly fine too! please note most drabbles are likely to be 800 words or less.

You can find all of my completed concepts below! All posts will be tagged as ‘chxrrys concepts’ 💞

『𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒』

Steve Rogers + Throat fucking + “Look at the mess you made.”

Steve Rogers + Breeding + “You look so pretty like this.”

『𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍』

Ari Levinson + Sex infront of a mirror + “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Ari Levinson + Man handling + “Are you fucking crying?”

Ari Levinson + Public sex + “Beg for it.”

『𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍』

Lloyd Hansen + Man handling + “Be a good girl and open wide.”

『𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍』

Rafe Cameron + Non-Con + “Look at the mess you made.”

『𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓』

Curtis Everett + Chase kink + “What did you just say.”

『𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒』

Bucky Barnes + Breeding + “You can run but you can’t hide.”

Bucky Barnes + Piss play + “Look at the mess you made.”

© Chxrryhansen. Do not copy, translate or repost my work to any other platforms. Plagiarisation is not accepted.

[rainbowsuitcase]

18+ smut

Top!Steve has been on my mind a bunch. Pre-serum Steve who needs to feel in control and like he has the power sometimes, and Bucky who is more than happy to let him have that.

Maybe Steve rides him occasionally, as a treat, squeezing tight around him and setting the pace agonizingly teasing until they both run out of patience. Even rarely, Bucky gets to ride Steve, press him into the mattress and show off the curves of his own body as he bounces on Steve's cock.

Bucky is rarely on top, and practicaly never as the one doing the fucking. It's less that Steve doesn't like it and more that it's not what Steve needs from him, and Bucky always wants his boy happy and satisfied.

Neither of them expects anything to change after the serum. There's no reason to. But the first time they get some privacy and time to do more than quickly jerk each other off...

It starts off perfectly fine. They're kissing, making out to muffle each other's noises, Steve's biting Bucky's lip as he preps him, the mood between them almost celebratory. Everything is fine until Steve slides in and bottoms out.

He loses rhythm quicky. His thrusts turn slow and jerky, hips twitching in a way that really doesn't do anything for Bucky. Steve's shoulders are shaking, his head buried in Bucky's neck almost like he's trying to hide.

Bucky slides his hands over Steve's shoulders, gentle. "Stevie?"

"S-sorry," Steve gasps, possibly shaking even more, hips stilling except for the smallest twitches, like he can't help it. "Sorry, I- it's- sensitive and I'm- you-"

"You're thinking too hard," Bucky says softly, almost hugging Steve's shoulders, feeling him nod into his neck. "Lemme help?" he offers, pressing into Steve's side to make it clear what he means. "Lemme take care of you? You work so hard, sweetheart, you deserve it."

Steve keeps babbling out apologies, but he nods clearly and that's all the permission Bucky needs to turn them over and squeeze around his cock. Steve interrupts himself with a gasp and Bucky grins, already moving his hips as he leans down to keep kissing him.

"Shh, it's alright," he whispers. "Lemme take care of you, lemme give you what you need." He slides his hand over Steve's chest and watches him throw his head back, moaning through clenched teeth.

"Bucky!"

"Yeah, that's it, baby, that's it."

Steve's hand keep moving, sliding over Bucky's thighs and sides, clenching on his hips like he doesn't know what to do with them. Experimentally, Bucky grabs them and presses them into the mattress above Steve's head.

Steve whines and arches off the bed, and Bucky grins.

He always wants his boy happy and satisfied, and if what Steve needs now is to not be in charge, Bucky is more than happy to give him that.

[lilacevans]

༊*·˚ main materlist | pete's place's opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* ೃ⁀➷ pairings & future pairings: pete brenner x female!reader. lloyd hansen x female!reader. ari levinson x female!reader. curtis everett x female!reader. steve rogers x female!reader. jake jensen x female!reader. (and others that will be revealed at a later date.)

word count: 1026 | series rating: explicit. ༊*·˚

warnings: implied abusive relationship, homelessness, alcohol, general sadness.

this is a dark au. minors are not welcome here.

✧.* ೃ⁀➷ notes: the intro is here!! it's here!! i proof read as much as i could, however some mistakes may remain. i was gonna share a little more, but i think this is perfect for setting up the first chapter! i'm so excited to share this with you! please let me know what you think! reblogs save lives! mwah! enjoy!!

A year after you packed brown boxes scrawled with black ink, clothes stuffed into various bags, and the hope of true love, into the back of your car, to move across the country to live with your ex-boyfriend, you find yourself one night in a heart pounding screaming match.

Thrown dishes, broken glass, picture frames on the floor. The remnants of a lost love etched by the sounds of your cries into the tattered walls of the home you shared.

With pleading cries, tear stained cheeks, and heart in your throat, you’re grabbed and shoved out the door in nothing but a pair of sweats, and shirt with a coat being darted at you whilst you laid on the ground. One too many hours were spent afterwards pounding your fists against the front door, begging  to at least have your purse so you can get a hotel room. 

Just as you were about to leave, looking down at your battered, red hands, your purse was dropped out of a window; the contents spilled onto the grass below. With a sigh, either sadness or relief; you weren't sure which, you bent to pick up your scattered belongings, cursing the man during. 

Luckily, you had everything you needed; cash, ID, and your shitty, overused phone. 

You called around for a cab, numb fingers shaking as you pressed the blurry numbers, but with it being Friday night, you were looking at a long wait so instead, you decided to cut your losses and walk to find the nearest hotel. 

The downside of moving, and being essentially trapped within the same four walls for months on end, is that you quickly found yourself lost– and being lost on Skid Row was the last place you wanted to be.

You willed your tears to not fall after you walked by tent after tent, stranger after stranger, clutching your purse tight, old key’s spread between your fingers, and finally found yourself outside the Hotel Cecil. You laughed to yourself in disbelief of having to head inside and get a room; but nonetheless, you did just that. 

Lying on a dingy bedspread, surrounded by more nicotine-stained walls, you muffled your cries behind your hands and slowly fell into a sombre slumber and wondered just how the fuck you had gotten yourself here. 

Over the next few days, you walked around, getting to know your surroundings and applying for jobs left and right. You were forced to ration your food while you looked around for cheaper hotel rooms. You were trying your hardest to avoid the sprawls of clubs begging for dancers but after finding yourself downtrodden after applying for yet another job and getting immediately dismissed, and not having any luck finding a cheaper room, you walked back to your grubby hotel and bump— quite literally— into two drunk guys. 

‘’Ooh, one of Pete’s girls,’’ The guy slurred while his eyes glazed filthily over your body making you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself. 

‘’I don’t know who that is and I’m certainly not one of anyone's girls,’’ You defend, slowly backing away as the guy then sighs and points behind you. 

‘’Well, you’d sure fit in with the rest of ‘em.’’ 

With that, the men carried on with their drunken journey while you left bewildered. 

You shook your head and turned to carry on home when you were suddenly blinded by a huge, purple neon sign:

Pete’s Place.

Underneath a small notice hung from the sign read: Dancers Apply Within. 

You looked around and whined quietly while you watched patron after patron enter the club. Two heavily built doormen eyed you. You shook out your bundling nerves, hung your head and followed the thump of the bass into the belly of the seedy club. Red and purple hues guided you into the belly of the club where you found red booths filled with drunk bodies that circled small stages. Girls with perfect form swirled around the pole, capturing the attention of everyone inside. 

‘’And who might you be?’’

You turned to find a man staring intensely, glass warm in hand, sharp suit and sea-blue eyes. Your mouth hung, mind blank for a moment before sputtering out,

‘’Oh, I–  I’m looking for the owner– I was hoping to… Audition…’’ You trailed off as the man began to circle you, fingers pried away your coat slightly, gaze wandering over your body. Calloused fingers tilted your chin upwards while he inspected your face before a slight smile appeared on his lips.

‘’Yeah, you’ll do,’’ He concluded and began to walk away. ‘’Follow me.’’

‘’I take it you’re the owner,’’ you inquired as you followed the man to the other side of the club and down a dimly lit hallway, smiling back at, what you assumed was, one of his girls. ‘’You’re Pete?’’ 

‘’That’s me,’’ he confirmed as you’re led into an office. ‘’Gonna need to see ID, need you to sign a couple contracts, and for you to take your clothes off,’’ he quick fired as he sat himself in his chair and threw a small stack of paper across the table. 

‘’Excuse me? Contracts?’’

‘’All my girls sign to stay loyal to the club, I don’t need anyone running off and taking my profits with him– helps limit competition, and I need to see what I’m working with here, you’re not exactly gonna be wearing a winter coat out there. Usually you’d come during the day, work the pole but, I got three of my regular girls out tonight, so it’s your lucky day.’’

‘’Oh,’’ You answer simply, pausing before a moment.  ‘’Right, yeah, lucky me– Of course,’’ you stumble out as you reach into your pocket and slide your ID on to his desk before peeling your jacket off and taking in a heavy breath before lifting your shirt over your head and sliding down your skirt with shaking hands.

‘’Over here,’’ Pete summoned, fingers tapped at his desk before turning his chair to the side to make use of empty space, relaxing into the chair with parted legs. 

‘’Show me what you can do.’’

[lefthandarm-man]

Steve Rogers // Captain America Captain America: Civil War (2016)

the way he looks at bucky (part 1, part 2, part 3)

(bucky vers.)

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Concepts 2/50

Character; Steve rogers

Kink; Throat fucking

Dialogue; “Look at the mess you made.”

Requested by; Anon

As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, all dark content will be labled as such. Please read at your own risk.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Steve’s thick hand gripped your throat securing you against the wall as he forcefully pushed you down onto your knees “Are you going to be a good girl?” You shakily nod your head, you had never been the target of his anger before, the aggressive look in his blues making you regret riling him up earlier that evening.

“Words, angel” he growled, his grip tightening against your throat. “Yes daddy” you mew gently, in complete contrast to his aggressive manor.

You watched as he removed his belt and pants, stripping down into his boxers. His muscles prominently glowing in the faint lighting from your shared bedroom. Using his dominant hand he pulled his cock out of his boxers, his shaft standing thick and proud, desperate to be inside your tight throat.

Precum leaked from his tip, dripping onto your lips as he gripped his cock, jerking himself off in front of your face. Your tongue darted out, tasting his salty goodness. You moaned as the salty tinge swirled around your taste buds.

“Open wide, dirty girl” his tone was rough as you stretched your mouth as wide as you could, flattening your tongue against the bottom of your mouth, drool leaking down your chin.

Your head was fuzzy as he forced his fat cock down your throat, your lips automatically wrapping around him, throat hollowing. “F-fuck.. take this fucking cock you little whore.” he moaned.

His hand moved to the back of your head, gathering your hair in a tight fist as he pushed your head further down his length, your nose now pressed against his pelvis while he bottomed out in your throat.

Your cheeks flushed pink as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, his hips began to frantically snap back and forth as he fucked his cock into your throat. You squirmed as your pussy dripped, your juices leaking onto the floor beneath you.

“S-shit.. look at the mess you made, my bratty girl” he teased as you moaned around his length. “You want daddy to touch your leaky cunt? Shame.” he laughed “You should’ve thought about that earlier but you were too busy being a whore and teasing daddy.” he spat.

“Gonna cum in your throat so deep you’ll be tasting me for weeks.”

He groaned as his grip on your hair tightened, his cock deep in your throat, holding you still around his shaft as his hips spasmed. Thick ropes of cum began to fill your throat, his spend leaking out of your lips and down your chin as you desperately tried to swallow everything he gave you.

“You’re my slut.. only mine.”

[ravenlocksentwisted]

Steve has changed, Bucky thinks.

When the Winter Soldier was unthawed (over and over again), there were always expectations. By the time they put the man who had been Bucky Barnes into cryo for the first time, he did his best to meet them. Deviations were punished. The instructions weren't always clear, but they were convincing.

Now, that man is clapping his long lost friend on the back. He sends a backhanded complement at Sam, who gamely shows teeth and returns fire. It's a dance, falling into the expectations of the things they should be, and Natasha sends Bucky a look as the rogue Avengers depart on another jetsetting adventure.

Steve's demeanor is grim now. He's always quick with a retort, and he's contrary as ever, but something niggles at the back of Bucky's mind. Shuri showed him the high school PSAs, laughing at the hypocritical bullshit American schools were willing to feed their teenagers. Bucky agreed it was ridiculous, but mostly because he knew Steve.

Bucky Barnes had always been willing to play the role society assigned him. The Winter Soldier had been more of the same. But Bucky would never have thought his best friend would ever twist himself into something that other people wanted him to be.

Bucky wonders what the expectations were when Steve Rogers was unthawed.

[lilacevans]

You're on the brink of homelessness and strapped for cash after a relationship breakdown when you finally find employment at a shady club. After rejecting the owner's countless advances, he takes a higher cut from your already miniscule pay. While searching for a better job, you do what you have to get by and begin propositioning private dances to club clients and not disclosing your extra earnings, like you're supposed to. What happens when the owner (and his family) finds out?

Main Warnings/Triggers:

Coercion, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Free Use, Manipulation, Blackmail, Prostitution, Kidnapping, Sadism, Lost Puppy Syndrome, Obsession. (More to be added, already plenty on the list.)

Full reveal & intro soon! | pete's place masterlist

[abby118]

[joezy27]

HAWKEYE - Clint Barton & The Avengers from the Marvel Comics Universe (MCU)

Deadpool & Wolverine (2024) Concept art by Andy Park

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Me: Why do i love making myself sad by thinking about the clones and order 66 and the jedi so much?

Also me: Captain America: The Winter Soldier is my favourite movie of all time.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

OK BUT

nomad!Steve having a size kink, seeing pre-serum!Steve and just not being able to KEEP IT IN HIS PANTSSSS

This didn't take me almost a week to get to. What do you mean?

You're so fucking right and while I have more angst-y thoughts about how younger, slimmer Steve would feel about that, too--how he might react when at first confronted with his perceived inadequacies in the face of everything he believes he's supposed to be, the way everyone tells him he should be... BUT we'll ignore that simply for the ✨️kink✨️

And what hits nomad Steve first--what takes his head and twists it down a dark, filthy path from the wheel-spinning confusion of being confronted with himself from another timeline, much younger and sicker--is their hands.

There's a moment where younger Steve reaches out to touch him, disbelieving. He's almost unknowingly playing out the now, in the future, overdone trope in movies of two people standing face-to-face, mirroring their movements. A perfect reflection. Younger Steve doesn't touch. But he gets close. His hands hover, his eyes are wide, his lips falling open silently at the same time that his fingers twitch and...

Jesus.

The thing is, hands are different from everything else. Every other part of his body. Their bodies. Bone can be wrapped and overlaid with muscles, disguised as something else. More rebust and thick. Muscle lives under nomad Steve's skin in mounds, thick like clay, molded just so. He shifts, and it moves, pulling and rippling along his frame. Muscle. Alive. Burning hot with its maintenance needs. His arms and shoulders and chest have all widened. Thickened. Even his abdomen, to some degree, has been bulked wider with muscles--cut and clenching. Too, his legs, from just above his Achilles heel with his calves to the very low of his broad back in the form of his curved, sloping ass. Nomad Steve has muscle everywhere these days. He knows muscle (and a whole lot of pain in the form of the ever steady march of time) separates himself from this younger Steve. He knows it well. But...

It's easier to forget that his entire frame has changed. The atoms rearranged and stretched. Forever altered. The difference between them is encapsulated in their hands.

Hands aren't the same as the rest of the body.

You can't pack muscle on your hands in the same fashion. You can put thick callouses and jagged scars, but that won't do much to lengthen or widen your fingers, it won't broaden your palms, it won't square out their architecture, and it sure as hell won't change your fingerprints.

Nomad Steve is so different from his younger self in obvious ways, but in their hands, too.

Subtle.

Fascinating.

Exciting.

Hands.

Nomad Steve has big, big hands with square palms and thick, long fingers. He has callouses from pencils still, but also more immediate weapons that fight for change, too--his voice extended beyond his mind to his body.

Younger Steve, though, has hands that are certainly large for his petite frame, but... they're almost delicate compared to Nomad Steve's hands. Thin. Easy to consume completely. The animal that is less and less caged in Nomad Steve the more he ages--more and more torn around the edges--growls seeing those small hands.

Immediately, a million fantasies race through nomad Steve's sharp, technicolor mind. All of those hot, dirty images in his head focused on the differences between their hands that represent the contrast in the rest of their bodies, too.

The fingers of just one of nomad Steve's hands encircling two bird-bone wrists--pressing both of them into the mattress, keeping him where he wants him, tightly fitting himself inside his younger self. His body. Wet. Hot. He barely fits, he swears. It's so tight that it almost hurts, gritting his teeth, swearing, groaning, and grunting as he fucks him with abandon. All the while, using a fraction of his strength to pin and ravenge him. Nomad Steve can feel every clench of younger Steve's fists as he writhes; he can feel every twist of his arms as he tries to get some kind of release from the pleasure, the heat, he just can't take it. His little fists clench so tight, just like his body. Tight.

Jesus Christ.

The sight of his fucking hands--and suddenly he understands what Bucky means when he says he has dinner-plate palms--biting into younger Steve's tiny waist. Wasp-waisted, he swears. His pale, pale skin darkened with bruises from desire. Younger Steve gasps and moans each time nomad Steve squeezes him a little more. Christ. There's a perverted feeling pulsing all throughout nomad Steve's body--he's so goddamn small and cute, and it makes him violent. Like seeing a kitten. A feisty little kitten that he wants to crush with his bare hands. So, he grabs. He takes. He groans, bone-deep, letting his forefingers and thumbs touch around his younger self's waist. He wants to press handprint bruises into his skin, he wants to feel his hip bones, he wants to dig into those little dimples at the base of his spine, he wants to feel the concave plane of his stomach, rubbing him down, he wants to spear him on his dick. He's so little. So tight.

Tight.

The broad flat of nomad Steve's palm across his younger self's thin chest, almost spanning the entire thing, oh, god, it's so hot. Underneath him, his elongated throat, his lean pecs, his sharp collarbones, and the curve of his ribs. All of that right there when the tips of his pinkie and index finger aren't even spread wide, and they're each brushing one of his peaked nipples. He's not even trying! Still, he overwhelms his younger self. He could do anything he wanted to him. Anything. Steve can feel his younger self's lungs stutter, gasping. He's nearly cool to the touch even as he melts from heated arousal. His heart pounds, vaguely uneven but demanding either way, sending surges of arousal through his body, making sure he's up for it. Rock-hard. He's so little and so grabbable.

Best of all, fuck, the way it feels with his big hands on his tiny body when he's fucking him. It's not just how it looks. He can fucking see how little he is, but it feels better than it looks. Tight, yeah, and... with nomad Steve kneeling on the bed, he hoists his younger self up so his slim thighs are thrown around his thicker waist, his hips are tilted up, and emphasizing the way as he thrusts in and out of him like he wants to break him. With their position, younger Steve's concave tummy bulges with his dick. He's stuffed so full. Moaning and wailing with every thrust. It bulges out of him. Filling him. Nomad Steve could watch it all day--staring, groaning, at how deep he gets into his guts--but he could spend the rest of his days feeling the erotic way his own cock rocks and grinds inside him through his thin skin. Christ. He can press down harder and feel himself in there, rubbing the tip of his own cock just to make his own hips jerk harder. Harsher. He's using his younger self like a damn flashlight, like he's jerking off using him, getting off to how he barely fits in there, getting off to how he's getting squeezed, getting off to how he drips with lube and how he drools and how he gags for it. Goddamn, he's begging for more even though there isn't more. There's no fucking way he could fit more inside him. He's at his limits, and Steve's taking him there. Steve's taking him. Ruining him.

He's never gonna be so little and tight again, so is Steve really the big, bad wolf for wrecking him? Like, god, how can he keep it in his pants when he's that big? It barely fits in the first place 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Hopefully, you enjoyed that 😘

Now, with this extra detailing

[frankthesnek]

Random Steve headcanon!

Steve discovers 90s boy band love ballads and is a BIG fan of them. Why?

1) they are either raunchy as fuck or just lovingly sweet.

2) 90% of them are about cherishing your partner and giving THEM pleasure.

3) they're catchy good songs but also cheesy as hell.

Tell me that doesn't describe Steve and his style of carring for his partner 😩

[pancreasnostalgia]

Immediately after I saw an ad for it on Facebook, I ordered The Art of Captain America: The First Avenger. It’s a detailed behind-the-scenes look of the movie that shows the concepts behind various scenes, props and characters.

My favorite spreads are the sketches of Peggy, and the evolution of her outfits. In addition to her and Steve it also has multiple sketches of Bucky, Howard and the Howling Commandoes, etc.