#steve rogers x tall!fem!reader

[buck-star]

Little perv | Stucky

Co-Written with @lanabuckybarnes

// Pairing //

Stepbrother!Bucky Barnes x Stepsister!Reader x BestFriend!Steve Rogers

// Summary //

You didn’t mean to walk into Steve but when you do and he tells your stepbrother about it, they will teach you a lesson how to be a good girl.

// Wordcount //

4.956 Words

// Warnings //

18+, Minors DNI, dubcon, stepcest, smut, threesome, both boys are dicks and cute, they are both huge, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (male!receiving), deep throating, choking, crying during sex, degrading, unprotected p in v, anal play, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, spitting, slapping, praises, pet names (sweetheart, babygirl), aftercare

// Authors Note //

This oneshot is co-written with @lanabuckybarnes, I wanna say thank you bbg, for listening to all the ideas, coming up with your own ideas. And especially for helping me to write it while I freaked out. This wouldn’t be as filthy and it wouldn’t even exist with your help, so thanks for writing this together with me.

// Events //

Build-A-Bucky-Bingo | BABB055 | December | Sensory Play | @buckybarnesevents | LGBTQ+ Bingo | G4 | Bisexual Threesome | @lgbtqbingo | Stucky Bingo: Round 5 | 5089 | B2 | Kink: Double Penetration | @stuckybingo

// Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist //

You groaned as you heard the shower running; your body was aching and you were in dire need of the relaxing feel of the water over your body—low and behold just as you’d grabbed your towels Bucky’s friend Steve had stolen the shower from you.

To say you were irritated was an understatement, you’d been dealing with shit like this ever since your dad’s new girlfriend moved in with her man-child son. Bucky was the quarterback of your college football team, a complete catch for any stupid girl silly enough to believe his charming eyes and wicked tongue, which you found out was quite a lot of girls; almost every weekend he’d hop out to a party and either come home reeking of sex and booze or with a girl clung to his hip, sucking dark marks into his thick neck as his large hands ran over her body— they would barely make it into his bedroom before she was moaning like a pornstar and he was growling like a fucking animal.

You suspected all that fucking booze and constant bashing into other burly men had gotten to his brain because he had a teasing, arrogant, don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that rolled off his body in waves. And by god did he love making you squirm.

The first time it happened you brushed it off, after all, he was probably so used to walking around in only his sweatpants; they hung low, the waistband of his briefs easily visible, accentuating his Adonis belt and soft happy trail that sunk below his pants.

You thought you’d stopped your gawking quick enough but Bucky had caught you—and you were in for it now.

Ever since that day Bucky had been more relaxed in the clothing department when he was around you, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a shirt around you; his corded muscles rippling under his tanned skin, biceps bigger than your head bulging as he brought his water bottle up to his plush lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the cold liquid. He tried his best to bite back the shit-eating grin threatening to plaster over his face as he shuffled by you, tall frame looming over you, your ass rubbing against the front of his sweats ‘accidentally’. After a quick glance your way the smile broke free, you’d stopped stirring your tea, head dipped to hide your reddened face behind your locks of hair but no amount of effort could wipe the mortification you felt and Bucky was loving it.

And now he’d even roped his friend into this absurdity.

Noting that the shower had finally stopped you gathered your towels and other toiletries in your arms and shuffled down the hall, bare feet slapping against the hardwood as you walked. Bucky’s room door lay adjacent, shooting noises and cursing flowing through the crack as he played whatever goddamn game that had him up at 4am most nights.

You were so distracted by Bucky you neglected to knock on the bathroom door to make sure it was well and truly empty.

“Well, what do we have here?” Steve’s cocky voice broke you from your trance, his hair pushed back and a towel hung low on his hips showing off his washboard-like abs; he wasn’t as wide as Bucky but definitely just as built. His blue eyes watched you from the mirror above the sink.

Your mouth gaped and shut like a fish out of water as you stuttered over your words, your brain shutting down at the worst possible time ‘Stupid fucking brain’.

“Never knew Buck's new step sis was such a fucking perv” he turned, hand gripping the waist of his towel as he stalked forward until you stumbled over your own feet, your items falling as you reached out instinctively to grab at something close to you— unfortunately that happened to be Steve’s towel.

“Wow! Tryna strip me now huh?” He chuckled, thick fingers gripping your wrist, his towel remaining in place thanks to his earlier hold.

“No-I” you tried to speak but his stormy eyes shot you down quickly.

“Sureee” he smirked, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek “We’ll see what Bucky has to say about this” he finished and before you could react he’d dragged your body down the hall and into Bucky’s room.

“I—I don’t think Bucky wants to know anything about it. And I— uhm I’m it was an accident to walk into the bathroom while you are still in here,” you mumbled, every thought washed out of your mind.

Steve chuckled, pushing you away from him causing you to stumble through the room until you were standing in the middle of it, facing Bucky with widened eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know your sister is such a perv, Buck. Came into the bathroom and when I asked her about it she wanted to take away the towel around my waist,” the blonde-haired man laughed. He walked closer to you, his hands gripping your waist before he pushed you closer to Bucky who was sitting on the bed.

Bucky’s legs were dangling down off the edge of it, he smirked at you with that shitty knowing and arrogant smirk. You blushed softly when he held his hands out for you to grab, when you didn’t take his hands Steve pushed you closer until Bucky was able to grasp at you and pull you closer to him.

“Are you that much of a needy girl?” Bucky cooed, pulling you down until you were seated on his thigh. His thick muscles were pressing perfectly against your throbbing cunt and you couldn’t help yourself, your hips slowly grinding you on his leg. “Oh, you really are a needy little whore, say it, babygirl, tell us that you’re such a horny little bitch for us.”

You whimpered, his thick thigh pressed against your pussy was too much for you to think straight. Bucky laughed darkly, his hands making their way to your waist and he helped you to grind on him.

“Stevie, look how fucking desperate she is, such a fucking whore for us. Say it, babygirl! Say it!” Bucky said in a stern tone. When you still didn’t answer his demands he stopped your movements. You whined, throwing your head back and hitting Steve’s lower stomach. You didn’t even realize he was so close to you but your head was resting against him now. “Fucking say it, bitch.”

“I—“ you cried out when Steve grasped your throat, his fingers were digging into your soft flesh and your eyes widened immediately. He didn’t let go of your throat, his fingers were digging more into your soft skin and you gasped. “I’m a whore for you.”

Both men chuckled, Steve loosened his grip and you inhaled deeply. Bucky still didn’t let you move on his thigh, he was looking up at Steve, nodding towards him and before you could have asked something you were turned around and tossed onto Bucky’s bed.

“Good girl, now ask daddy to let you suck his cock,” the brunette smirked, he was now standing next to Steve, both admiring you shamelessly. It felt a bit like you were nothing but a piece of meat for them, and maybe you were right now.

You didn’t answer him, your eyes just looking at them while you were placed on your back. “Think she wants to be punished, what do you think, Buck?”

A low groan left Bucky’s lips, he placed his hands on the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them slowly down. Your eyes wander over his toned chest and abs to his hands which were going to reveal his hardening cock. Steve was making his way around the bed, one of his hands on his cock, palming himself and feeling himself getting harder underneath the towel.

Bucky pushed his sweatpants down eventually, his boxer briefs following and his cock sprung free. The tip was red, leaking with pre-cum and you whimpered once more. Your mind was too dizzy to care what both men were going to do with you, you just needed them, needing them to help the ache in your pussy.

“Open your mouth and suck daddy’s cock like the fucking little whore you are,” Bucky groaned, walking a step closer. He lowered himself slightly, his hand tapped your cheek lightly and you did as you were told. With a grunt he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately thrusting forward when the warmth of your mouth surrounded his cock. Bucky couldn’t — he didn’t want to hold back his thrusts, he wanted you to take him completely into your sweet little mouth.

Steve who had settled on the bed, spread your legs apart, he’d taken off your pants already, the only fabric between him and your pussy was the thin sopping material of your panties. Steve ran his fingers up and down your inner thigh, inching closer to your soaked pussy. “Fucking soaked, making a mess in her panties.”

You moaned in response, Bucky’s cock moved in and out of your mouth, causing you to gag around his length. He didn’t care how much you sputtered and pushed his cock deeper into you, tears were streaming over your face and you quietly sobbed when he hit the back of your mouth over and over again.

Steve’s fingers were now circling your pussy, the fabric still covering your wetness but the intensity of his movements made you go crazy. He pinched your clit through your panties and you tried to move away from him but he held you in place. Steve then slipped his fingers under your panties, before deciding it wasn’t good enough and ripping the fabric into two pieces and throwing them away.

Any type of protest was muffled by Bucky’s cock, his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue and you hummed your satisfaction. “Yeah, that’s what you like, huh? Fucking desperate slut needs to be punished for your being so needy.”

Bucky guided his cock in and out of your mouth, loving the way your tears fell down your cheeks while he hit your throat with every push of his cock into your mouth. He groaned, his hand making its way around your throat and he squeezed your soft flesh slightly. Your eyes shot open, terror written in the color when he squeezed more and more.

You wiggled, trying to pull away from him but your stepbrother held you in place. He beamed down at you, then he loosened his grip around your throat and removed his cock, giving you a moment to breathe deeply. With a rough laugh he brought his hand to your jaw, and with a bit of pressure he made you open your mouth. Bucky was then spitting into your mouth, looking at the way you involuntarily swallowed his saliva.

“Fuck, you little bitch. You’re so fucking desperate, swallowing my spit like you’re gonna do with my cum,” he groaned, placing his cock back in your mouth, thrusting harshly and fast in and out of you.

Steve worked one of his fingers into your tight cunt, his fingers were moving between your folds for a while, gathering your arousal. But now he just needed to stretch out so he would be able to fit his huge, veiny cock into you. “You’re so fucking tight. Bucky didn’t know your little stepsis felt like a virgin.”

“Oh don’t worry, she might’ve not fucked a boy yet but I know she fucked herself, haven’t you, babygirl?” Bucky cooed. Steve chuckled, removing his finger before he was pressing his finger against your entrance once again. His thick finger entered you and he immediately pushed another finger into you, causing you to moan loudly — or at least as loud as possible with your stepbrother's cock down your throat. “Have heard you moaning my name like a desperate slut, fucking yourself with your small fingers, not even comparable to my cock, babygirl.”

You moaned around his huge length. Steve curled both of his fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The attempt to throw your head back was stopped by the bed and you only arched your back, pressing more against the blonde-haired man’s fingers.

“Don’t you dare to cum you fucking whore,” Bucky growled, his hand back around your throat and squeezing once again. Your eyes rolled back, pleasure growing inside of you especially when you felt Bucky’s cock twitch in your mouth, his balls slapping against your face.

You whined when Steve slipped his fingers out of your tight entrance, pushing one of his digits back into you so he felt you clench around him. “So tight, sweetheart. Can’t wait to fill you with my cock.”

Before you could respond in any way Bucky removed his cock, smirking at Steve like he got the best idea he could ever get into his mind. His tongue was poking out, gliding across his lips when he took a step back and grasped your hair, causing you to hiss. Bucky made you sit up, your front to Steve while your back was towards Bucky.

“Take off your shirt, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty tits, poor things, hidden by your clothes,” Steve mumbled, sitting on his knees in front of you. Your hands shook when you brought them to the hem of your shirt, slowly taking it off and revealing your bare body to the men.

Steve’s hands immediately reached out to place them on top of your breast, squeezing the soft flesh. A low moan escaped his lips the moment he saw your lips parting and a quiet moan leaving your perfect, pink lips. He played with your nipples, twirling them between his fingers until you were nothing but a whimpering and moaning mess.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart. Be a good girl, huh?” You moved a bit, getting on your knees and giving Steve better access between your wet folds. Bucky undresses himself as well, getting on the bed behind you, his big hands caressing your smaller frame.

Bucky and Steve were huge compared to you, and you between them made you feel even smaller. Their hands were roaming over your body, arousal was dripping out of your cunt, slowly wetting your inner thighs. You squirmed slightly, you wanted them to touch you properly, you needed them to fuck you.

“Impatient, babygirl? Do you know that bad girls get punished?” Bucky whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He kissed down your neck, biting into your flesh before he licked over it and kissed the spot. “Are you going to be good for us?”

You nodded your head, letting it fall back against Bucky’s shoulder. Steve stroked his cock slowly, his thumb brushed over his plush head and he groaned while he smeared his pre-cum all over his tip and shaft. He then got closer to you, his cock placed in between your legs and he pushed his hips forward. Steve was grinding his length through your folds, your pussy clenched around nothing while his rock-hard cock pressed against your clit and he brushed his cock over it with every movement.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Do you want my cock?” He asked, grinning at you when you nodded. Your head was still resting against Bucky’s shoulder. Just a moment after you nodded Steve’s hand flew across your face. Your eyes widened and tears built up in them, slowly rolling down your cheeks. Steve’s handprint appeared on your cheek, red and burning. “Shhh— I’m sorry, sweetheart. But you need to use your words.”

Steve mumbled before he pressed his soft, plump lips against your burning cheek. You hissed, but Bucky’s broad body behind you held you in place. To make it up to you, Steve grasped his cock and pushed it slowly into you, his cock stretched you out and you whined.

“Too big, Steve. Please, too big,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes tight. Your hands gripped whatever was close to you, his thick shoulders. Your fingers were digging into his flesh when he bottomed out inside you.

“Doing so good for us. Fuck, you’re right, sweetheart. Could immediately come in your pussy, you’re squeezing me so much already,” the blonde-haired man said, smirking when he looked at you.

Steve gave you a moment to adjust to his size, playing with your nipples. He twirled them between his fingers, squeezed your breasts and sucked softly at your sensitive skin. His cock was resting deep in your pussy, walls clenched violently around him and he needed to focus to not come immediately inside of you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was looking for some lube in his drawer, squirting some of the cold liquid on his fingers. He then placed his fingers on your even tighter hole, smearing the lube around before he pushed one of his digits against your tight muscle ring. You shake your head, not sure if you want him to fuck your ass but when Steve slowly moved his cock you melted into their embrace and let Bucky work his finger into your puckered hole.

Whines and moans were all that left your lips, desperate and needy to be fucked like a slut — exactly what both men did, at least when you were prepared for Bucky’s cock in your ass.

Bucky pushed his digit into you, and you welcomed him immediately, sucking him deeper inside you. A low chuckle left his lips and he looked at his best friend. “Fucking slut is sucking my finger into her ass like she is made to be fucked. Like to be fucked by two men, huh?”

You didn’t answer, too deep into the pleasure both of them gave you. Steve’s cock was twitching in your tight pussy, the feeling of him in you, making you still feel like he would rip you apart and Bucky’s finger moving deeper into your ass before he added another didn’t help your fogged mind.

“B—Bucky, please. N—Need you.” You weren't sure what came over you, your pussy was already hurting with Steve’s cock inside but Bucky would ruin your ass. It would hurt a lot more would he push in especially when you’re not stretched out with his fingers, but the pleasure you felt was just too good to wait for him to work you open for his pretty but huge cock.

“He has to stretch your tight ass before he can push into you, sweetheart. We don’t want you to have too much pain when we fuck you, it’s not just about us, it’s also about you,” Steve told you, his hips slowly moving against yours but just so slightly that you could cry out frustrated. The tip of his head was hitting your sweet spot with every movement and you felt the knot in your belly already tightening but he stopped his movements once again.

Bucky worked three of his fingers into your ass, he scissored them, stretching you out for his cock. And then he pulled them out of you, smirking about the frustrated whine that left your lips. “Needy, aren’t we, babygirl?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the tip of his cock against your entrance. You wiggled your ass, trying to push against him but Steve grabbed your waist and held you in place.

Bucky grasped the lube once again, this time he squirted it onto his hard cock. Without warning he entered your puckered hole. Your eyes widened, your breath hitched and you felt the pain appear in your ass. This wasn’t quite comfortable, especially not with Steve’s cock pressing against the thin wall between his and Bucky’s cock inside of you.

“No— too—“ you got interrupted by another harsh slap but this time on your ass and Bucky was the one who brought his hand down against your skin.

“It will fit, we will make it fit and you will take us like the good fucking whore you are!” His voice was stern and not even Steve’s soft touches against your breasts and cheek didn’t help against the pain in your ass.

You nodded, letting him slide his dick inside of you. Both men were balls deep inside of you, giving you a moment to take a deep breath. It felt at the same time good and bad, you wanted to get off their cocks but at the same time, you needed them to fuck into you and destroy your holes in the most delicious way possible.

Steve was the first one who pulled out of you before he slammed his cock back into you. Bucky and his best friend were groaning just as loud as you moaned when Steve started to fuck you. Bucky followed his movements, and so you were kneeling between those broad men, two cocks inside of you while they slammed into you with such force.

The pain you felt quickly turned into pleasure and the desperate moans that left your lips showed that. Bucky was kissing along your neck, while Steve couldn’t stop himself any longer — his lips were pressing aggressively against yours but instead of pulling away you kissed him back.

The knot in your lower stomach was growing, their thick veiny cocks inside of you, stimulating your sweet spot and themselves made your mind go dizzy. “Please, please.”

“What do you need, babygirl? Do you want us to stop?” Bucky asked sweetly and you shook your head, lips parted when Steve used the moment to fuck even harder inside of you. The only sound that left your lips was a cry and your eyes rolled back. Bucky laughed, his hand sliding to your neck and he held it in a loose grip.

“Guess she wants us to make her come before we fill her up with our pretty babies,” Steve growled. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Fucking love that clenching pussy.”

Bucky hummed, agreeing with his best friend. Your walls were clenching around them and both could tell you were just as close as they were. With a harsh thrust from Bucky into your tight ass and a sloppy thrust into your pussy — which was still hitting your sweet spot — you came all over Steve’s cock. You were clenching around them painfully, sucking them even deeper into you while you squeezed them and it caused them to come inside of you.

Bucky’s hot breath hit the sweaty skin of your neck, and his grip around your throat tightens while he pumped his cum into your ass. Steve dug his fingers into your hips, rutting into you, groaning and throwing his head back.

“Fuck, so fucking tight. Take my cum, take my babies,” Steve moaned and you bit your lip when you thought about his words. Your mind was still dizzy and you could feel their heavy breaths on your skin, their sweaty body pressed against yours and their cum slowly dripping out of your holes.

“Taking our cum like a good little slut. Yeah, that’s what you are, our good slut. You look so beautiful when you come,” Bucky grinned and bit your neck slightly. Both were fucking you through your orgasm before they pulled out of you.

They had their hands still on your body, holding you in place while they watched your mixed cum dripping out of you and flowing down. Bucky dipped a finger into the mixture, bringing it to his mouth, and sucking on it before he repeated, only this time he held his finger in front of your mouth.

“Suck it clean, it tastes good. You taste so fucking good baby girl. Especially mixed with our cum,” he chuckled when you let him push his finger into your mouth, you sucked at it, moaning about the salty taste — it was delicious, and sucking Bucky’s finger was just as delicious as the cum.

You were so fucked out; so high on the aura of the room, both boys panting around you, trying to find a sliver of air around the sex-filled space.

“Fuck” Bucky groaned out as he stood from the bed, slightly pushing your form forward until you collapsed onto Steve’s awaiting body.

“There we are sweetheart you did so well, so good for us…took your punishment like a champ baby” Steve cooed, his thick fingers combing through your matted locks, separating the sweaty knots gently.

Bucky watched the pair as they settled against his headboard, smiling softly at just how fucked out you were, a bubbling mess on top of Steve and soaking up his praises like a sponge.

“Mmm Buck” you croaked out, eyes barely cracking open to watch the man as he slid a pair of briefs up over his legs before adjusting himself. His heart clenched at the sound of your raspy voice just barely forming any words, he wanted nothing more than to dive into the bed with you and Steve and snuggle close to you but he was well aware that you needed to be taken care of.

“I’ll be right with you babygirl ok” he squatted down to look at you, a soft smile pulling on his lips and wrinkling the corners of his eyes before he planted a soft kiss along the bridge of your glistening nose and disappeared into the bathroom.

When he returned Steve had pulled you up into his lap, his legs dangling off the bed as he spoke to you about nothing in particular, keeping you awake long enough for them to look after you.

“Come on sweet girl” Steve spoke smiling at the appearance of Bucky “Let’s get you all cleaned up”.

He stood; lifting you like you weighed nothing, a wide palm on your ass while his other cradled your waist making sure you didn’t slip from him, physically and mentally.

The warm sudded water was a welcoming touch, your muscles tensing as your lower body stung lightly but it quickly subsided into a soothing feeling that left your eyelids heavy. A groan sounded from behind you followed by the sloshing of water as someone settled in; his firm arms pulling you close until your back hit his soft chest.

“Still with us babygirl?” Bucky’s breath fanned against your ear as he leaned in close, his plush lips running from behind its shell to the nape of your neck.

You hummed, but the sound wasn’t enough for the boys. Steve leaned over the tub, his index finger curling under your chin and his thumb pulling at your lower lip.

“Come on sweetheart, use those words…you wouldn’t want poor Buck and me to worry all day about hurting you” he murmured, his thumb drifting over the soft pink of your mouth.

“Mm mm, you didn’t hurt me Stevie—just feeling too good and tired” you mustered, your brain still short-circuiting and swirling in that deep subspace.

“That’s ok baby as long as you’re feeling good” He leaned forward, kissing you gently before accepting the bottle of body wash and loofah Bucky held out to him.

“Gonna wash you up, that ok?” The blonde man asked, already squirting a heady amount of the sweet-smelling scent into the sponge.

“Uh huh” You responded meekly, suddenly the thought of Steve touching you all over so intimately had you feeling all shy—something that made Steve’s heart swell as he noticed the soft blush perching over your cheeks.

His hands worked softly, lifting each arm and scrubbing away the sweat and heavy scent of sex from you while Bucky took his time massaging over your hips and thighs, thumbs pushing into the tight knots.

You were almost completely unconscious by the time they’d deemed you clean; the water had gone cold and Steve had scrubbed the same spot on your tummy a thousand times yet none of you wanted to leave the loving coils of the other. Bucky broke first and brought you up with him as he stood, turning you and lifting you out before wrapping you in a huge fluffy towel. He scooped you up again and walked back down the hall to his room, leaving Steve to clean himself and the bathroom up.

“Shit” Bucky cursed, stopping suddenly in the middle of his room. Through all the fussing over you, he’d completely neglected the fact his sheets were covered in your combined juices.

You turned your heavy head to look over your shoulder, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you realised just what exactly had Bucky grumbling.

“It’s alright we can sleep in my bed” you whispered against his temple, lipsing the spot softly and earning a playful spank in return as he turned on his heel and down to the opposite end of the corridor to your room.

Bucky dried you off quickly, eager to get under the sheets and you in his arms; your soft giggles music to his ears as the fabric ran down your sides and over your breasts.

Finally, Bucky got his wish as he tucked you under your sheets and rounded the bed to the other side, his naked frame curling in beside you, his arm snaking over your waist and pulling your back into his front. Steve joined soon after and slipped into the bed in front of you, his hand running up your arm before cupping your cheek and kissing you softly.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better little girl tonight, can’t wait to do this more” he mumbled against your lips, paying no mind to the fact you’d drifted off to sleep as soon as he’d joined you and Bucky.

“Mhmm” Bucky agreed, blue eyes meeting the stormy colour of his friends “But next time I get her pussy” The growl in Bucky’s voice left no room for argument, but Steve only chuckled.

“Sure man, sure”

// Taglist //

@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @felicitylemon @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @sebastianstanisahotmf @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

→ premise: you were just so pretty and so much smaller than your boys how could they not love it? though they’ve seemed to take notice of just how much you love it

→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader x bucky barnes

→ warnings: smut | 18+, size kink [reader is described as smaller/weaker in the sense of them being super soliders and stronger more muscles etc.][im also not that good at writing size kink so just squint a bit], body worship, dumbification, nicknames [little one, dumb baby, baby], oral [f receiving], creampie [only 1 i was gonna have them both do it but]

→ a/n: 01 kinktober

It was very hard for your boys to keep their hands to themselves around you, they were both very possessive after all but they knew you loved it. They noticed the way your thighs clenched when they stood tall behind you, presence big and looming as their large hands both snake around each side of your waist. Their stares and presence are enough to make the guy talking to you back off. They hear the small lustful gasp that leaves your lips when one of them manhandles you picking you up to place you out of their way. They were more in tune and hyper aware of every motion and sound you made than you'd like sometimes. They could catch on to things you like before even you could. Such as that you really really enjoyed just how much bigger and stronger they were than you.

It had been a couple days of a long mission where the three of you simply didn't have the time or space for many intimate moments, that was until you finally got back home. You're in the middle of a conversation with Sam before suddenly you're swept off your feet by Steve.

With a short startled scream you're thrown over one of his broad shoulders. “Hey i was in the middle of a conversation, you know” you whine and ignore the ache that begins to settle in your core at the action. You smack Steve's muscular back in an attempt of telling him to let you go, with the one hand that was holding your waist still he lets go quickly to smack your ass. You squeal and shut your mouth fast as arousal replaces all confusion and frustration. Steve's other hand that's gripping the back of your thigh squeezes a bit harder around the plush skin. You watch Bucky not far behind you two as Steve carries you to our shared bedroom. A small but seductive and taunting grin plastered across the brunette's face. He watches with amusement as your eyes glaze over, practically seeing you begin to sink into sub space already.

“Wish you could see her face rn, shes turning into our dumb little baby already thinking of all the things we’ll do to her” Bucky's deep voice breaks you for your train of thought before you sink right back away and the rest is a blur until your sat on your large soft king size bed, ass nestled into steves lap and your facing bucky whos sat in front of you.

“We missed your body little one” Steve whispers, coming out desperate and soft, breath hot the back of your neck as Bucky tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and resting his big calloused hand on your face. “Your perfect little body is all we ever need baby” Bucks voice is a stark difference to the blondes as his comes out husky and deep. You gasp as bucky's cold metal fingers find their way under your shirt inching towards your bare chest.

You couldn't be bothered to put a bra on for the long and uncomfortable trip home and you've never been more grateful for one of your decisions til this moment. His thumb brushes across your already hardening nipple at the same time that Steve begins leaving sloppy kisses on the back of your neck making his way to that sweet spot behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat as you squeeze your thighs together but steves warm hand slides between them spreading them apart. You whimper softly at the strength.

“We wanna worship that pussy baby don't hide it little one” Steve mumbles against your neck as he starts to unbutton your pants with one hand and push them down with your panties.

The boys move fast to discard the rest of your clothes as well as their own and their lips are back all over your body, kissing, marking, licking every inch of skin that they can.

You're now propped up against the headboard, a pillow behind your back and one under your hips. Bucky has one leg pinned and Steve has the other so your legs are spread, throbbing cunt on full display for them. Their strength while forcing your legs open causes your arousal to leak down your pussy and ass soaking the pillow under you as you squirm a bit in impatience.

“Look at our pretty little dumb baby Buck so needy, you want our mouths baby?” Steve asks in a soft yet taunting voice that has your head going hazy again. You nod yes eagerly and whine as the blonde and brunette hovered their mouths over where you needed them most. A small chuckle leaves Bucky's lips before he is quick to slide two of his thick warm fingers through your slick, spreading it over your puffy folds. The small gasp leaving your parted lips turning into a louder one the second his fingers slip inside you and are fast to find that spot only your boys could. Steve, not far behind Bucky in action, leans closer and starts to slowly flick your clit with his tongue, teasing you by slowly licking shapes over your aching clit. Your thighs twitch and on instinct your legs attempt to shut from the overwhelming pleasure, the pressure building embarrassingly fast in the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum already little one? Keep these fucking legs open and cum on Bucks fingers, come on dumb baby” Steve groans against your pussy as he moves his attention back to your clit, sucking it sloppy and hard. Steve's hands grip your inner thighs hard and push your legs away from his head and Bucky pins one knee down to the bed with his free hand. “Cum on my fingers baby then you can get filled with our cocks you miss that dont ya’ little one” Bucky chuckled and watched as you squirm and whine when he starts slowly and teasing stroking his hard cock giving you the perfect view.

With a gasp and fingers threading through Steve's dirty blonde hair and pulling you cum hard on Bucky's fingers. You feel Steve smile against your clit as your chest rises and falls, catching your breath.

Bucky having other plans however the minute Steve pulls away from your clit is smacking his red leaking tip against your abused bud and slamming inside you. Your eyes glaze over and their voices fade as pleasure and overstimulation take over your body. A wanton moan fills the boy's ears causing them to smile as Bucky's thrusts are hard and fast. He's been pent up for days and your walls clenching around his thick cock is a heavenly feeling he desperately missed.

Your eyes fall shut but snapback open fast when Steve is gripping your cheeks squeezing them lightly, you whine, his rough hand making your face seem so small. “Eyes on us baby got it? Look at Buck as he fucks this gorgeous cunt yeah?” He questions and smacks your clit before you can answer, making you clench down harder on buck. “Yes! Mhm mhm!” You nod and hum in response, not being able to form enough words.

The brunette groaning loud and grabbing your hips hard to plow into you even harder. He was so big it was easy for him to manipulate you. “Fuck you’re already gonna make me come little one” his head falls back as he lets pleasure wash over him. He thrusts one last time filling you to the hilt as thick hot ropes of cum fill you up. Your mind goes blank again and before you can register their voices again, Steve's hands are grabbing onto your hips and lifting you into his lap.

“Shes already so fucked out aww well too bad baby i need to be inside you so fuckin’ bad missed it just as much as buck did” Steves voice is ringing in your ears but before you can form an answer he is lfting you up again to slide down onto his cock. “Ah! Fuck steve” you whine and yet still press your hips down to take him inside. “Look at you trying to complain baby you love it when we manhandle you, didn't think we noticed huh?” Bucky taunts and grabs a fist full of your hair to pull your head back so he can kiss you hungrily. You kiss back passionatly with a goofy smile on your face that fades into a lust filled one once steve starts to fuck up into you, hands still grabbing onto your now probaly bruised hips.

You moan against Bucky's lips, head hazy but happy thinking of how well they will take care of you after this. They may manhandle you and be much stronger than you but they could be big teddy bears when it came to aftercare.

→ a/n: this is only my second time writing stucky so i hope its as good as my first one that everyone loved but :) also this was meant to go up yesterday im not doing 31 days im doing 18 im posting a fic every saturday, sunday, tuesday, and thursday but i got busy yesterday and this wasnt proof read too well so im sorry and i rushed the ending to get it out td.

[holylulusworld]

Stumblerella

Summary: You’re clumsy. Luckily, a hero moved in right next to you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: clumsy reader, fluff

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: B1: Retired Steve

Your neighborhood was always a good place to live. People are friendly. No one is nosy, or loud. And, you can have a sunbath without some creep spying on you.

Today you decided to cut your roses. It’s too hot, and maybe too early, but you’re bored. Stuck at home because your boss forced you to take some time off, you didn’t find a better way to kill your free time.

“Miss,” a deep voice calls from across the street, “I’m not an expert, but you shouldn’t cut roses when it's so hot.”

“What?” You frown as a tall guy makes his way over the street to stand in front of your fence. “Hi, what did you say?” You ask.

“The roses,” he says and points at the chosen victims of your boredom. “You will ruin them if you cut them today. It’s too hot.”

“Oh.” While you sweat like a whore at a church, he seems to be unbothered by the heat. His smile widens as you stare at him. He looks familiar, but you’ve always been bad with faces. “Thank you, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, miss.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Steve. Maybe you saw that I moved in across the street.” Steve points over his shoulder at the house Mr. Stevenson left after his wife ran away with her yoga instructor.

“Sorry, I didn’t know someone bought the house,” you reply, ashamed you didn’t bring your new neighbor a gift.

Steve looks at your hand in his. “Will you give me your name too, or do you want me to give you a name?” He jokes.

“Y/N,” you are quick to answer. “Y/N Y/L/N. I live here.” You roll your eyes at your stupid reply. “Uh—if you need anything, just tell me.”

“That’s very kind of you,” he says and squeezes your hand. “You’re the first one not asking me to do something for them.”

“Why would I?” You cock a brow. “I don’t even know you, Steve. I wouldn’t dare ask you for help.”

He smiles and says, “Y/N, whenever you need help, you can ask me. I live just across the street.”

“Watch out!” Steve pushes you out of the way as your car rolls down the street. It’s not very fast but would’ve run you over either way. “Y/N!”

You slowly try to get back up, only to watch Steve stop your car with his body. He puts his hands on your vehicle and rams his feet into the ground.

“What the—?” you gasp audibly. He looks like a superhero at that moment. “What? How?” Your eyes widen as you finally remember where you’ve seen his face before.

“Y/N! Wait!” Steve is suddenly next to you. He snatches your bag with groceries out of your hands and flings them across the street.

For a moment, you’re too shocked to speak or react. Your bag is on fire and slowly turns into dust. Your marshmallows, grapes, and flour are gone, and you mourn their loss.

“How did you…never mind,” Steve laughs as you watch the paper bag burn. “I mean…do you have a lighter in there, or what happened?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Things like that happen to me all the time. My car drives on its own. My heels break. The grocery bag is suddenly on fire.”

“Steve?” You knock at his door, calling Steve’s name. “I know it’s a little late, but I got something—” You shriek when Steve opens the door the moment you lean against it to press your ear to it.

“Y/N?” Steve watches the pie in your hands fly toward him. Steve catches your fall after dodging the pie in time. “Whoa, watch out. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Sorry…so sorry. The pie was for you,” you sniff as Steve helps you stand on steady feet again. “Now it’s ruined.”

“Doll, if you wanted me to save you, you could’ve just screamed my name,” Steve jokes as you’d love to hide from him. Embarrassed, you murmur an apology. “You’re a little clumsy, huh? Maybe you should stay close to me from now on.”

A retired hero is still a hero. Steve will make sure you're always safe from now on.

[amethystarachnid]

Hey rose! I'm really excited for the Marvel holiday special!! Can I please request Steve Rogers x short!Reader (is this self indulgent? Maybe!😭 People literally have to bend down to hug me idk, tall genes of my family skipped me) for the second prompt- miseltoe mishap? Thank you!<3 🩷

P.s. I LOVE all of your fics 🤌✨

UNDER THE MISTLETOE

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓ★ Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x short!fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.2k

ᯓ★ Summary: Steve's new year resolution was simple: confess his feeling for you, but as a new year approaches he still hasn't said a word. So, after a mysterious Christmas gift you receive, you decide to take matter into your own hands.

ᯓ★ TW(s): so much fluff it needs a tw and some teasing and flirty comments from y/n

ᯓ★ I'm sorry but as you all may have noticed the requested aren't being written in the chronological order they were requested because I got confused between the asks and the comments in the post and can't figure out who has requested before who, so I'm just writing it following the prompt list. I'm sorry but don't worry, your request will be written!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The Avengers Tower is a beacon of Christmas cheer this time of year, buzzing with the energy of festive preparations. Garlands hang from the railings, twinkling lights are draped across every conceivable surface, and the smell of hot cocoa wafts from the kitchen. It’s a cozy chaos, and you’re in the thick of it, perched on a step stool as you wrestle with a particularly stubborn string of fairy lights.

Your arms ache from holding them above your head for so long, but you’re determined to get them just right. The lights have to be even—no awkward gaps or clumps. It’s a matter of principle, and besides, you know Tony will be annoying about it if you don’t.

“Need a hand?” a familiar voice asks from behind you.

You glance down and find Steve Rogers standing there, all broad shoulders and gentle eyes. He’s holding a box of ornaments, his cheeks tinged pink—not from the cold (you’re indoors, after all), but something else. The sight of him is enough to make your own cheeks heat up, though you do your best to ignore it. Steve has that effect on people.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, gritting your teeth as you stretch a little further. The stool wobbles, and his hands dart out instinctively, steadying you with a feather-light touch. You freeze, your heart doing an Olympic-level somersault.

“You sure?” he asks, his voice low and careful. “That stool doesn’t look very—uh—stable.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, though your confidence in the stool’s structural integrity is rapidly dwindling. You glance down again and catch the crease of worry on his brow. The man is the living embodiment of chivalry; there’s no way he’ll let you keep going without making it his mission to help.

With a sigh, you step down. The lights can wait. “Fine,” you concede. “Knock yourself out, Captain Christmas.”

Steve chuckles, setting the box of ornaments down on a nearby table. He steps up onto the stool, and you’re struck again by just how tall he is. He’s got at least a foot and a half on you, which is something you’re reminded of constantly—like when you have to crane your neck just to look him in the eye. Or when he easily reaches shelves that are practically a mile out of your range.

He’s annoyingly perfect. Not just in the tall, strong, and ridiculously handsome way, but in the kind, thoughtful, and genuine way too. He’s the kind of man who offers his umbrella to strangers in the rain, who remembers how you take your coffee, who actually listens when you talk. And if that weren’t enough, he’s also awkward—adorably so, especially around you.

You suspect it’s because you’re small and he worries about crushing you with a handshake. Or maybe it’s because he thinks you’re fragile, which would be ironic, considering how many missions you’ve both survived. Either way, his awkwardness only fuels your ridiculous, head-over-heels crush.

As Steve strings the lights, you busy yourself unpacking ornaments from the box he brought. Most of them are classics—shiny globes, candy canes, and snowflakes—but there are a few oddities mixed in. A Hulk-shaped bauble makes you snort, and you hold it up for Steve to see.

“Look familiar?” you tease.

He glances down from his perch and grins. “Bet Bruce loves that one.”

“He’s probably going to hide it on the back of the tree,” you reply, setting it aside. Your fingers brush against a different ornament—this one shaped like a little star. It’s simple, but pretty, and you hold it up to admire it. “This one’s cute.”

Steve’s hands falter for a split second as he adjusts the lights. You don’t notice, too focused on the star, but he notices. Oh, he notices. Because you just called something “cute” in that soft, slightly breathless way that makes his chest tighten. He swallows hard and refocuses on the task at hand.

“Y-yeah, it’s nice,” he manages, hoping his voice doesn’t crack.

Why is this so hard?

Steve has faced down alien armies, assassins, and world-ending threats without breaking a sweat, but the thought of confessing his feelings to you is enough to make him panic. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. At the start of the year, he’d made a resolution—a promise to himself—that he would finally tell you how he felt. But every time he’s tried, the words get stuck in his throat.

And now, with Christmas just days away, the deadline he arbitrarily set for himself is looming. The idea of starting another year without telling you makes his stomach twist, but so does the idea of screwing it up. What if you don’t feel the same way? What if he ruins everything?

“Steve?” your voice snaps him out of his spiral.

“Hm?” He blinks down at you, realizing he’s been staring blankly at the half-lit string of lights in his hands.

“You okay?” you ask, your brow furrowed. “You zoned out for a second there.”

“Oh, uh—yeah, I’m fine,” he says quickly, though his ears are burning. “Just thinking.”

“About?” you prompt, tilting your head.

You shouldn’t do that. It’s unfair, how cute you look when you’re curious. It makes it harder for him to keep his cool.

“Nothing important,” he lies, offering a sheepish smile. “How’s the ornament situation?”

You hold up the Hulk bauble again with a smirk. “I think this one’s going front and center.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Bruce is gonna love that.”

You giggle, and the sound is like music to his ears. It’s one of the things he loves most about you—your laugh. It’s warm and infectious, and he’d do just about anything to hear it.

Before he can spiral further into his thoughts, you step closer to hand him the star ornament. “Here,” you say. “This one should go up top.”

Steve takes it, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. It’s nothing, really—just an innocent touch—but it sends a jolt of electricity through him. He wonders if you feel it too, or if he’s imagining things.

“Good choice,” he says, his voice a little quieter now. He focuses on securing the star to the top of the tree, grateful for the distraction. When he’s done, he steps back to admire his work, and you join him, standing so close that your shoulder almost brushes his arm.

“Not bad, Captain,” you say, your tone light but genuine. “I think we’ve got ourselves a pretty solid tree.”

He glances down at you, his heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it always does when you’re near. You’re smiling—bright and proud—and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

“Yeah,” he says softly, more to himself than to you. “It’s perfect.”

You glance up at him, your smile faltering just slightly. There’s something in his expression—something raw and unguarded—that makes your pulse quicken. For a second, you think maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way you do.

But the moment passes, and Steve clears his throat, stepping away under the guise of tidying up.

“So, uh,” he says awkwardly, bending down to gather the empty ornament boxes. “What’s next on the agenda?”

You blink, trying to shake off the lingering warmth of his gaze. “I think we’re supposed to decorate the common room. Nat said something about needing backup with the garlands.”

“Right,” Steve says, straightening up with the boxes in hand. “Lead the way.”

As you head toward the common room together, you can’t help stealing glances at him. He’s trying so hard to act normal, but you know him well enough to sense when something’s off. There’s a tension in his shoulders, a hesitation in his words.

You wonder what’s on his mind. And you wonder if it has anything to do with the way he looks at you—like you’re the most important thing in the world.

Christmas morning in the Avengers Tower is a mix of chaos and cheer. The common room is alive with laughter and good-natured teasing, wrapping paper scattered across the floor like confetti. The massive Christmas tree glows softly in the corner, its branches weighed down with ornaments and twinkling lights.

Everyone has gathered here to exchange gifts, and the room feels warmer than usual—maybe because of the crackling fireplace, or maybe because of the bonds you all share. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, a pile of unwrapped presents beside you, and your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

Natasha is chuckling as Clint holds up a sweater that has “World’s Okayest Archer” stitched across the front in bold letters. “This is slander,” Clint grumbles, but he’s grinning. “I’m amazing.”

“Sure you are,” Natasha teases, her smirk sharp and playful.

Thor, meanwhile, is marveling at a “World’s Greatest Dad” mug that someone (probably Tony) had sneakily customized to include a picture of Thor holding Stormbreaker like a proud parent. “This,” Thor declares, raising the mug, “is a mighty gift.”

“Very mighty,” Tony quips from his spot on the couch, a Santa hat perched crookedly on his head. “You’re welcome.”

Steve sits near the tree, mostly quiet but smiling at the antics around him. He’s already unwrapped his gifts—a vintage Captain America action figure from Tony (complete with the original shield), a sturdy leather-bound journal from Natasha, and an assortment of hand-knit sweaters from Thor’s mother. He’s grateful for all of them, but his focus isn’t on the gifts anymore. It’s on you.

You’re radiant this morning, your laughter lighting up the room more than the Christmas tree ever could. Steve doesn’t know if it’s the cozy glow of the fireplace or the joy of the season, but something about you seems especially beautiful today. Not that you aren’t beautiful every day—but today, you’re breathtaking.

And it’s making him nervous.

Because tucked beneath the tree is one last gift. A gift for you. A gift from him.

“Looks like that’s the last of it,” Clint says, stretching his arms above his head. “Nice haul this year, guys.”

“Not quite,” Tony interrupts, pointing toward the tree. “There’s still one left under there.”

Everyone turns their attention to the tree, and you lean forward curiously. Sure enough, there’s a single box nestled beneath the branches. It’s wrapped neatly in silver paper, tied with a red ribbon, and it has your name on it.

Your brow furrows as you reach for it. “I don’t remember putting this here.”

“Must’ve been one of us,” Natasha says, though she looks just as intrigued as everyone else. “Check the tag.”

You glance at the label, but it doesn’t give you any clues. It simply says To Y/N—no indication of who it’s from.

“Secret Santa, maybe?” Bruce suggests.

“Someone’s being mysterious,” Tony says, leaning back with a smirk. “Come on, open it. Let’s see what you got.”

You hesitate for a moment, your fingers brushing over the ribbon. Whoever left this for you went out of their way to remain anonymous, and that makes you feel oddly shy. Still, curiosity wins out, and you carefully untie the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping paper.

Inside the box is a smaller velvet box. You blink, your breath catching as you open it.

Nestled inside is a delicate silver necklace, the pendant shaped like a tiny star. It’s simple but stunning, the kind of piece that feels timeless. You stare at it for a moment, your chest tightening.

But that’s not all.

Beneath the necklace, folded carefully, is a sheet of paper. You unfold it slowly, revealing a drawing—a sketch of you, caught mid-laugh. The details are astonishing, from the crinkle of your eyes to the way your hair falls. It’s you, but somehow more: the joy on your face, the warmth in your expression—it’s like the artist captured not just your likeness, but your spirit.

The room falls quiet as you stare at the drawing, your hands trembling slightly.

“Wow,” Natasha murmurs, leaning in for a better look. “That’s... beautiful.”

“It’s incredible,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. You trace the edge of the drawing with your fingertip, your heart racing. “Who...?”

“Not it,” Tony says, raising his hands.

“Wasn’t me,” Clint adds.

Everyone else shakes their heads, except for Steve, who sits frozen, his heart pounding so loudly he’s surprised no one else can hear it.

It was a gamble, leaving the gift anonymously. He couldn’t bring himself to sign his name, not when he was terrified of how you might react. But now, watching the way your eyes glisten as you hold the necklace and the drawing, he’s second-guessing everything.

Should he say something? Should he let you wonder? Should he...?

You glance up, scanning the room. Your gaze lingers on Steve for a moment, and he feels like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly looks away, pretending to adjust the hem of his sweater.

“Well, whoever it’s from,” you say softly, clutching the necklace in your hand, “thank you. It’s... it’s perfect.”

Steve lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Perfect. You think it’s perfect. Relief washes over him, followed by a flicker of pride. He spent weeks working on the drawing, pouring every ounce of his feelings into every pencil stroke. Seeing you appreciate it—cherish it—is more than he could’ve hoped for.

But then you put the necklace on, and his chest tightens all over again. The star catches the light, and it suits you so perfectly that he has to look away before he does something stupid—like stare too long or blurt out the truth in front of everyone.

“Whoever did this really knows you,” Natasha says, eyeing the necklace. “It’s thoughtful.”

“And talented,” Bruce adds, gesturing to the drawing. “That’s some serious skill.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide his reddening face. He’s not used to compliments, especially not ones directed at his art.

“Guess I’ve got a secret admirer,” you joke lightly, though there’s a hint of hope in your voice.

“Or someone with terrible taste,” Tony quips, earning a pillow to the face from Natasha.

The room dissolves into laughter again, and the attention shifts away from you and your mysterious gift. But you’re still holding the drawing, your fingers brushing over the lines and shading. It’s so personal, so intimate, that it makes your heart ache in the best way.

And Steve? Steve sits quietly, watching you from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this secret, but for now, he’s content to see you happy. Even if you never find out it was him, this moment is enough.

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

The days between Christmas and New Year’s feel suspended in time—a cozy limbo filled with leftover cookies, twinkling lights, and lazy mornings. At the Avengers Tower, the pace has slowed to something resembling normalcy, with everyone enjoying a much-needed break.

You, however, have been anything but relaxed. Not since Christmas morning, when you opened that mysterious gift.

The necklace still rests around your neck, the tiny star pendant catching the light whenever you move. The drawing that accompanied it is safely tucked away in your room, though you’ve stared at it countless times since then. You can’t stop thinking about it—or, more specifically, about who gave it to you.

For days, you’ve replayed the moment in your mind, analyzing every detail. The craftsmanship of the drawing, the thoughtfulness of the gift—it could only be from someone who knows you well. Someone who cares about you deeply. Someone who, despite their care, wanted to stay anonymous.

And you have a pretty good idea of who that someone is.

Steve.

It’s the only explanation that makes sense. He’s been acting... different around you ever since Christmas. Quieter. More awkward. You’ve caught him stealing glances when he thinks you’re not looking, and when you smile at him, he stammers like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The thought that Steve might like you—that he might really like you—makes your heart race. You’ve had a crush on him for what feels like forever, but you never imagined he might feel the same way. Now that you’ve started piecing things together, it feels almost too good to be true.

And yet, there’s still no confirmation. No grand confession. No slip of the tongue. Nothing to cement your theory. Which is why you decide to take matters into your own hands.

It’s late afternoon when you start your search for Steve. You’ve checked the gym, the kitchen, and even the lounge, but he’s nowhere to be found. Finally, you decide to check his room—a bold move, but you’re running out of options.

When you knock and get no response, you hesitantly push the door open.

“Steve?” you call softly, peeking inside.

The room is empty, neat and orderly as always. The bed is made, the desk is tidy, and his shield leans against the wall like it belongs in a museum. You step inside, glancing around for any sign of where he might be.

Your gaze lands on the leather journal sitting on his desk. The one Natasha gifted him for Christmas. It’s open, a pencil resting on top of its pages.

You know you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But curiosity gets the better of you, and you find yourself drawn to the desk.

“It’s just a peek,” you mutter to yourself, your fingers brushing over the leather cover.

The page it’s open to stops you dead in your tracks. It’s a drawing—of you.

Not just any drawing, either. It’s almost identical to the one you received on Christmas morning, the same detail, the same expression, the same care in every line. Your breath catches as you realize what this means.

Steve drew this. Steve gave you the necklace. Steve has been hiding his feelings for you all this time.

A smile tugs at your lips, and a thrill runs through you. He likes you. He really likes you. And yet, he hasn’t said a word. Typical Steve—too noble, too careful, too worried about messing things up.

You close the journal carefully, placing the pencil back where you found it. You won’t confront him about this—not yet. No, you have a much better idea.

If Steve won’t confess, then you’ll make it impossible for him not to. And if that means teasing him a little, well... all’s fair in love and war.

You find Steve in the lounge a little while later, sitting on the couch with a book in hand. He looks up when you enter, and his face brightens instantly, though he tries to hide it.

“Hey,” you say, leaning casually against the doorway.

“Hey,” he replies, setting the book aside. “Looking for something?”

“Actually, I was looking for you,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside him. You’re closer than usual, your knee brushing against his. He stiffens slightly, his eyes darting to yours.

“Oh?” he says, his voice a little higher than usual. “What for?”

You shrug, tilting your head as you study him. He looks nervous—adorably so—and it only fuels your confidence.

“Just wanted to see how you’re doing,” you say, your tone light and sweet. “You’ve been kind of quiet lately.”

“Have I?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“Mm-hmm.” You reach out to adjust the collar of his sweater, your fingers grazing his neck. He freezes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

“You sure everything’s okay?” you ask, your voice dipping slightly.

“I—I’m fine,” he stammers, his cheeks turning pink. “Really.”

You lean back, feigning innocence. “Good. I’d hate to think something was bothering you.”

He nods, clearly unsure of how to respond.

You spend the rest of the evening finding subtle ways to fluster him. Leaning closer than necessary when you talk. Touching his arm when you laugh. Complimenting him on everything from his sweater to his hair. By the time you part ways, Steve looks like he’s been through an emotional whirlwind.

The next day, you up the ante.

Steve is in the kitchen making breakfast when you join him, your hair slightly tousled and your sweater slipping off one shoulder. He nearly drops the pan he’s holding when he sees you.

“Morning,” you say, your voice soft and syrupy.

“G-good morning,” he replies, turning back to the stove.

You step closer, peeking over his shoulder. “Whatcha making?”

“Just eggs,” he says, his grip tightening on the spatula.

“Smells good,” you say, resting a hand on his back. You feel the muscles beneath his shirt tense, and it takes all your willpower not to laugh.

“Want some?” he asks, his voice strained.

“Sure,” you say, flashing him a smile. “Thanks, Steve. You’re the best.”

His ears turn red, and you bite your lip to keep from grinning.

By the third day, Steve is visibly unraveling.

You’ve spent the last forty-eight hours being as sweet, flirty, and touchy as you can manage without outright declaring your feelings. Every time you brush against him, compliment him, or catch him staring, he looks like he’s about to combust.

You find him in the training room that afternoon, throwing punches at a heavy bag like it owes him money. He doesn’t notice you at first, and you take a moment to admire him—his broad shoulders, his focused expression, the way his sweat-soaked shirt clings to his chest.

“Working hard?” you call out, stepping into the room.

Steve pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly,” you say, walking toward him. “What’d that poor bag do to deserve this?”

“Just... letting off some steam,” he says, wiping his forehead with his arm.

“Need a sparring partner?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes widen slightly. “You want to spar? With me?”

“Why not?” you say, stepping closer. “Unless you’re scared I’ll kick your ass.”

A laugh escapes him, and you feel a spark of satisfaction. “I’d like to see you try.”

You grin, stepping onto the mat. “Suit up, Rogers.”

After a playful (and very one-sided) sparring session, Steve is more flustered than ever. You’re lying on the mat, catching your breath, and you turn to look at him.

“You’re holding back,” you tease.

“Didn’t want to hurt you,” he replies, still trying to recover from your relentless teasing.

“You’re sweet, Steve,” you say, your voice soft. “Really sweet.”

He looks at you, and for a moment, the tension between you is palpable. You’re half-tempted to just kiss him and get it over with, but you want him to make the first move.

“I should... hit the showers,” he says abruptly, standing and heading for the door.

As he disappears, you smile to yourself. He’s close to breaking. Very close.

And when he does, you’ll be ready.

It’s New Year’s Eve at the Avengers Tower, and the entire building is buzzing with excitement. Tony, true to form, has outdone himself, transforming the common areas into a glittering wonderland of gold, silver, and twinkling lights. The air hums with music, laughter, and the promise of a fresh start as the year draws to a close.

You’re in your room, standing in front of the mirror with a slight frown as you adjust your dress. The sparkly red fabric hugs your figure perfectly, but the zipper in the back refuses to cooperate. Despite twisting, stretching, and trying every awkward angle imaginable, you can’t quite reach it.

With a sigh, you grab your phone and type out a quick message:

Hey Steve, can you come to my room for a sec? Need a hand.

You press send before you can overthink it, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. You already know he won’t say no—he never does when it’s you.

Steve arrives less than two minutes later, knocking lightly on your door.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” His voice, deep and warm, filters through the door.

“Come in!” you call out, keeping your tone casual. You hear the door creak open, followed by the soft sound of his boots against the floor.

“Y/N, I—” Steve starts, but the words die on his lips when he sees you.

You turn to face him, clutching the front of your dress to keep it from slipping down. His eyes widen, and his breath catches in his throat as he takes you in. The dress is a vibrant, glittering red that hugs your curves like a second skin, the hem brushing mid-thigh even with the extra height your heels give you. Your hair is styled elegantly, soft waves cascading over your shoulders, and your makeup highlights your features just enough to leave him completely speechless.

“Wow,” he finally manages, his voice barely above a whisper. His cheeks flush a deep pink, and he looks away, as if giving you privacy in a moment that clearly isn’t private.

You bite back a smile, pretending not to notice his reaction. “Thanks for coming. I need a little help.”

Steve clears his throat, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “Help with...?”

“The zipper,” you say, turning around to show him the back of your dress. You hold the fabric up with your hands, revealing the delicate, stubborn zipper that sits halfway down your back. “I can’t reach it.”

“Oh.” Steve’s voice cracks slightly, and he clears his throat again. “Right. Sure. I can do that.”

You hear him take a hesitant step closer, and your pulse quickens. There’s something thrilling about having him this close, about knowing he’s flustered because of you. He smells like clean soap and cedarwood, and the sheer size of him behind you is enough to make your breath hitch.

His large, calloused hands brush against your back as he takes hold of the zipper, and you have to resist the urge to shiver at the contact. He hesitates for a moment, clearly nervous, before carefully tugging the zipper upward. His fingers graze your skin as he works, and the sensation sends a rush of warmth through you.

“Is... is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice rough around the edges.

“Perfect,” you murmur, glancing at him over your shoulder. His face is closer than you expected, and the intensity in his blue eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

The zipper finally reaches the top, and Steve’s hands linger for a moment longer than necessary before he steps back, his gaze darting anywhere but at you.

“There,” he says, his voice tight. “All set.”

You turn to face him, giving a little spin. “What do you think?”

Steve stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like he’s searching for the right words. “You... You look amazing,” he says at last, his voice full of awe.

His honesty makes you blush, and you grin. “Thank you. You’re not looking too bad yourself, you know.”

Steve glances down at his outfit—a crisp navy suit that fits him perfectly—and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks,” he says, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re welcome, Captain,” you tease, stepping closer. “Shall we head to the party?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he stammers, stepping aside to let you pass. His hand hovers near the small of your back as you leave the room, but he doesn’t quite touch you.

The elevator ride to the party is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You steal glances at Steve as he stands beside you, his shoulders stiff and his jaw clenched like he’s holding something back.

“You okay?” you ask, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“Yeah,” he says quickly, though the slight crack in his voice betrays him. He clears his throat, flashing you a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine.”

“Steve.” You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” he protests, but the redness in his ears says otherwise.

You decide to let him off the hook—for now. The elevator doors slide open, revealing the main event: Tony’s New Year’s Eve extravaganza.

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Steve arrive. The common room has been transformed into a glamorous ballroom, complete with a dance floor, a live band, and a fully stocked bar. Guests in glittering dresses and sharp suits mingle beneath cascading strings of fairy lights, and the energy in the room is electric.

“Y/N!” Natasha calls out, making her way toward you with a drink in hand. She gives you a once-over and lets out a low whistle. “You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say, twirling for effect. “You look amazing too.”

Natasha smirks. “Oh, I know.”

Steve hangs back slightly, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he watches you with a soft smile. He doesn’t seem to notice the way Natasha’s eyes flick to him, her smirk widening.

“Well, don’t you two make a picture-perfect couple,” she says casually, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re not a couple,” Steve blurts out, his face turning an impressive shade of red.

Natasha raises her glass in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, Rogers.”

She winks at you before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you and Steve standing awkwardly by the entrance.

“She’s relentless,” Steve mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She’s not wrong, though,” you say, your tone light and teasing.

Steve looks at you sharply, his eyes wide. “What?”

You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “Relax, Steve. I’m just messing with you.”

His shoulders relax slightly, but the pink in his cheeks doesn’t fade.

The night unfolds with laughter, dancing, and plenty of drinks. You make a point to stay close to Steve, brushing against him whenever you can, leaning into him when you laugh, and catching his gaze across the room. Each time, his reaction is the same—wide-eyed, flustered, and utterly endearing.

At one point, you drag him to the dance floor, your hand firmly clasped in his. He protests at first, claiming he’s not much of a dancer, but you refuse to take no for an answer.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure him, pulling him close as the band starts a slow, jazzy number. “Just follow my lead.”

Steve hesitates, but when you rest your hands on his shoulders, he relents. His large hands settle on your waist, and the two of you sway to the music, moving in perfect sync despite his earlier protests.

“You’re better at this than you let on,” you say, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Steve chuckles nervously. “You’re easy to dance with.”

The compliment makes your heart flutter, and you tighten your grip on his shoulders. For a moment, it feels like the rest of the party fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

You’re about to say something—something bold, something that’s been on the tip of your tongue for days—when the song ends, and the moment is interrupted by a burst of applause.

Steve steps back, his hands dropping to his sides. “That was... nice,” he says, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you agree, your chest tightening. “It was.”

You’re not sure how much longer you can keep up this game of subtlety and teasing. The clock is ticking, and the New Year is just around the corner. If Steve doesn’t make a move soon, you might just have to do it for him.

The party is in full swing as midnight approaches, the energy in the room building with each passing minute. The band has picked up its tempo, and laughter and clinking glasses echo through the air. You and Steve have stayed close all night, and now the two of you make your way toward the bar for a drink before the countdown begins.

“What’ll it be?” Steve asks, glancing at the menu. He’s been doing everything he can to appear calm, but the slight tremor in his voice and the way he keeps running a hand through his hair are clear giveaways.

“Champagne,” you say with a smile, leaning casually against the bar. “It’s tradition, isn’t it?”

“Good choice,” he says, signaling to the bartender. Moments later, two glasses of champagne appear in front of you, the golden liquid fizzing enticingly. You pick yours up and raise it in a mock toast.

“To the end of a very interesting year,” you say. “And the start of a better one.”

Steve clinks his glass against yours, his blue eyes warm. “I’ll drink to that.”

You take a sip, savoring the bubbly sweetness. The two of you fall into easy conversation, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. That is, until your eyes drift upward—and you notice the sprig of mistletoe hanging above you.

Your heart skips a beat, and a mischievous smile curls at the edges of your lips.

“Steve,” you say, your voice tinged with amusement.

“Yeah?” he asks, oblivious, before taking another sip of his champagne.

You tilt your head upward, your gaze fixed on the mistletoe. His eyes follow yours, and when he realizes what you’re looking at, he freezes.

“Oh,” he says, his voice barely audible. The tips of his ears turn bright red, and he looks away quickly, as if avoiding eye contact will somehow make the situation disappear.

“Did you know Tony hung mistletoe all over the tower?” you ask innocently, though the twinkle in your eyes betrays your intent.

Steve scratches the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Uh, yeah. I might’ve noticed. He’s… thorough.”

You take a step closer, your heels clicking softly against the floor. Even with them on, you still have to crane your neck to look up at him. He’s towering above you, his broad shoulders blocking out everything else, and the nervous way he’s fidgeting is almost too cute to bear.

“So,” you say, your tone teasing. “What are we supposed to do when we’re under mistletoe?”

Steve swallows hard, his eyes darting between you and the small sprig above. “I—uh—well, I think… traditionally… people…”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting patiently as he struggles to form a coherent sentence.

“They kiss,” he finally blurts out, his voice cracking slightly.

You can’t help but laugh softly. “They do,” you agree. “It’s tradition, after all.”

His blush deepens, and he looks like he’s about two seconds away from bolting. You can see the internal battle playing out in his mind, the way he’s torn between his feelings and his nerves. The countdown begins in the background, voices ringing out in unison:

“Ten!”

“Steve,” you say, stepping even closer. “You know what I think?”

He blinks, staring down at you like a deer caught in headlights. “W-what?”

“Nine!”

“I think you’re overthinking this.”

“Eight!”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. You’re not sure whether to be exasperated or endeared by how utterly flustered he is.

“Seven!”

“Six!”

“Steve,” you say firmly, reaching up to place a hand on his chest. You can feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm, and it sends a thrill through you.

“Five!”

“If you don’t kiss me right now,” you whisper, your voice low and teasing, “I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Four!”

“Three!”

Still, he hesitates, his lips parting as if to speak but no words escaping. You sigh dramatically, rising onto your tiptoes and tugging him down by his tie.

“Two!”

Before he can protest—or, more likely, overthink himself into oblivion—you press your lips to his.

The kiss is soft and sweet at first, your lips fitting perfectly against his. His initial surprise quickly melts away, and his hands come to rest lightly on your waist, steadying you as you lean into him. Even with your heels, he has to bend down significantly to meet you, and the height difference is so absurdly Steve-and-you that it makes you smile against his lips.

When you deepen the kiss slightly, sliding your hands up to his shoulders, he lets out a quiet, surprised sound that sends a rush of warmth through you. He tastes faintly of champagne, and the sheer rightness of the moment makes your head spin.

The countdown fades into a deafening roar of cheers and applause as the clock strikes midnight, but you barely notice. For this moment, it’s just you and Steve, wrapped up in a world of your own making.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless. Steve looks down at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, disbelief, and pure adoration.

“I…” he starts, his voice shaky. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

You laugh softly, your hands still resting on his broad shoulders. “You don’t say.”

“I mean, I—uh—I’ve liked you for a while now,” he stammers, his words tumbling out in a rush. “A long while, actually. Since before last Christmas. And I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how, and then the gift—I mean, the necklace—I thought maybe it would say it for me, but then you didn’t say anything, and I—”

“Steve,” you interrupt gently, placing a finger over his lips to stop his rambling. He freezes, his eyes wide and uncertain.

You smile, rising onto your tiptoes once more to kiss him again. This time, it’s slower, sweeter, a silent reassurance that you feel the same way. When you pull back, you whisper against his lips:

“Happy New Year, Steve.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes shining with so much emotion it makes your chest ache. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

And as the room around you erupts into celebration, you know this is going to be the start of something truly amazing.

I'm sorry (not really) but I can't imagine Steve as nothing else than a softie, like, I don't know where you all see the big dominant man...I see a puppy

[crazyk-imagine]

Okay, so, I have an idea. Wade Wilson with a tall S/O (any gender is fine, but preferably fem) that can and does pick him up?

Tall Girls Rule and Wade Drools

Pairing: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson x Tall!reader

Characters: Wade "Deadpool" Wilson, Tall!reader, James "Bucky" Buchanon Barnes, Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Ellie "Negasonic Teenage Warhead" Phimister, Yukio, Natasha "Black Widow" Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker

Warnings: Fluff, Wade is a warning himself, puns, dorkiness, terrible jokes and nicknames, reader lifts wade whenever, wade likes being babied, everyone likes and doesn't like him, they never know what to do with him, the avengers did not ask for wade but here he is, mention of alcohol or at least drinks, surprisingly no mentions of chimichangas, wade is a slut, reader does not fall for his antics, small xmen and avengers cross over, mentions of the forbidden unicorn

Word Count: 1k

Also based off this post

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're happy to hang out with your friends, even if the only reason you know them is because of your idiotic and chaotic boyfriend.

He still amazes you even though you two have been together for so long now.

-

Before the party, you were smoothing out the skirt of your dress and a slight breeze came through the window.

You’re worried with how thin the fabric feels, it might be too late to change.

“Hey babe?” You call out for him, not knowing where he wandered off too.

“Yes, sugarplum?”

“We vetoed that one two weeks ago,” you answer while adjusting your watch.

“Right, right. Yes, my anaconda don’t because she’s got the big buns hun?”

“That ones a little long.” You enter the kitchen and find him standing on the counter, making a mess. “Wade,” you sigh.

You walk towards the counter, placing your hands by his feet; seemingly trapping him in. “You’re not supposed to have sugar before we go out. You know you basically turn into a crackhead.”

“I take offense to that because, sugar–”

You mutter under your breath, “jesus.”

“- to be a crackhead, means you have to be on crack or have it in your veins.”

Your right eye twitches as he makes the motion to his elbow. “Did Peter show you that? I told him to ban you from tiktok.”

“Jecuze!”

You roll your eyes and pull him off the counter, tossing him over your shoulder.

-

You pause at his warm hands caressing your behind. “Wade.”

“Yes, juicy- I mean baby?”

“Stop playing with my ass.” You start walking towards your shared room once more.

“I thought you liked it when I played with you. You weren’t complaining last night.”

You toss him onto the bed and grab your earrings. “Shut up.”

You stand back, checking yourself out in the mirror. “Okay, be honest.”

“I’d totally-”

“No.” You turn to face him. “Can you see my nipples through this dress?”

He shakes his head, “no, don’t worry, but I’m sure they’re still there.” He leans back and looks you up and down. “If you want, I can give you an inspection. Come on,” he pats his lap. “Give papa some sugar.” 

You roll your eyes. “Go grab your unicorn and jerk off, you horndog.”

He whines and lets out a noise as he catches his stuffed friend.

-

You glance up from the table and turn to find Wade moving around like an insane person.

Part of you regrets dragging him out with you but another part of you doesn't and seeing him goof around to annoy Logan and Bucky makes you feel better. 

You turn back to Ellie and Yoko only to furrow your brows after finding them stare at you. "What?"

"Are you ever going to stop staring at him?" The dark haired girl asks.

"What's wrong with me looking at him?" 

"You stare at him like a lost puppy."

"I do not," you scoff.

Yoko places a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, letting her know she needs to calm down and watch what she says.

Ellie doesn't mean to but sometimes her brain and her mouth aren't always in tune with one another and it leads to fights.

You glance back at Wade, watching as he messes around with Scott too. "I wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Okay?"

You purse your lips, unsure if this is something you should be confessing. 

You decide against the logical part of your brain and tell the girls what's been on your mind.

Wanda makes her way over, dragging Natasha with her.

"Sorry, ladies," the shorter haired woman tells you.

"Our favorite bartender was dealing with a weirdo and we didn't get our drinks until now."

You all chuckle knowing she was referring to your boyfriend, who still stands beside America's sweetheart and his best buddy plus the others, annoying the absolute shit out of them.

"I said I was sorry but what was I supposed to do?"

Wanda turns to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, pulling your attention onto her. "Don't listen to Nat, she's joking with you. She’s actually happy to see him act, sort of, decent. I mean, we all are. He finally got manners."

You give her a small smile and nod, feeling the same way.

"I think that's the first time we all can ever agree on something about Wade," Ellie adds.

You cover your mouth chuckling, "definitely."

-

Wade turns around at the sound of your laughter.

The others can see how his eyes soften behind his mask.

None of them seeing the rainbows and dancing unicorns that envelope you.

"-ade? Wade?" Steve calls out.

"Yes, Mr. All American?"

The blond sighs, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I decided not to listen," he leans closer to whisper, "get a load of this guy, am I right? He's acting like he doesn't know me."

Bucky raises a brow at his behavior, not believing that someone can act the way he does even if he's known to man for a few years, Wade always has a way of surprising people with his antics. 

“Could you stop fawning over your girl for five minutes and chill?” Logan grunts.

Wade pretends to think on it. “Hmm no.”

He runs over to you and throws himself into your lap.

All the girls groan at his entrance.

You chuckle, “Hi honey.”

“Hi sugarplum, you having fun?”

You shake your head.

“Shut up, we were having more fun before you got here.”

He turns away from you. “I don’t know whether to be offended or not.”

Yoko stares at him concerned, “is he okay?”

You nod, “he’s fine.” You stand up, carrying him and set him beside Tony, needing him to stay with the boys. “Baby, stay here.”

“But-” He pouts.

“Wade.”

“Fine but if I’m drunk by the time we’re done, don’t blame me.”

"God help us," Logan mutters.

"I am the only God here." He turns away and uses the back of his hand muttering into the distance, whispering, "I'm still Marvel Jesus."

[sidmakestuff]

Fast Track

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You see him on the train on your daily commute. You secretly pine. and pine. and pine...and pine. Day after day. And then you finally get a chance to talk to him.  Warnings: Angst w/happy ending, hurt/comfort, use of y/n, very insecure and soft bucky, reader using petnames slightly excessively, swearing, some references to sex, mdni!

Hope you enjoy :) Leave me some feedback pls and thx xx

You took the B train every Monday through Friday at seven in the morning. You got off at the seventh stop every Monday through Friday at seven thirty in the morning. You smiled politely at the muscular stranger who shared your stop at seven thirty in the morning. Even though he never really smiled back, only sometimes gracing you with a slight nod of his head.

You talked to everyone on the train. It started as a nervous habit. Nerves were easily appeased once you complimented a stranger and their tight-lips transformed into a glowing smile at the flattery. It was always genuine; you never made up a compliment. It wasn’t that hard to find at least one nice thing about someone, and it was worth it to be able to fall into conversation with them over constant conversation with yourself and your mind that was usually trying to convince you that you were always out of place. 

Over the years, you knew every face on the seven am B train. You knew their lives, what they did, who they loved, and sometimes even made some kind friends in your neighborhood.

You knew everyone from Mr Delmar, who always watched out for you, to Peter Parker, who was always far too bruised up for a high school kid, to the humblest of men, Steve Rogers, who grew to love you as a kind soul with the remarkable ability to put themselves in anyone’s shoes and imagine quite accurately how they must feel, a compassion you extended even to him, something you said was not difficult at all, which Steve found hard to believe. But, chip by chip, you aided him in changing how he viewed himself. People did not deserve to see themselves any less than they were, least of all Steve Rogers, you told him.

Yet, of course, there had to be one remaining obstacle, one last stranger you never got to know. He didn’t really intimidate you, though you got the impression that that was his intent. You supposed, as a woman taking the New York subway, you should be wary of a tall, muscular man, dressed in dark clothing. You weren’t to be mistaken for a foolish woman. You carried around a taser the size of your forearm and pepper spray was always hardly a second out of grasp. You looked for an exit to every room you walked in. You worked for S.H.I.E.L.D for fuck’s sake. Even if you were just an engineer, you had taken self defense classes since your first day of work. Caution was in your blood at this point. 

This man should have set off every red flag, and still, there was something endearing about his slightly crooked walk, his uneven shoulders and long strides. His stubble grew in all different directions as if no one taught him to shave. There was some constant uncertainty in his certain gaze. There was something remarkable at how human he was with his little ear buds and his strangely gloved hands. You wondered what he listened to every morning. You could only guess and those guesses ran from the Beatles to Motley Crue. 

But then there were his eyes. Lighter eye shades usually came off more deceptive; you favored coffee colored irises like Peter’s–coupled with his childlike wonder and affliction for trouble, it made you relax around him immediately. But this man’s eyes, despite being a striking cerulean, were much, much too soft for a dangerous man. There was something so utterly tender about him that had you catching your breath far more often than you’d like. 

It’s also what stopped you from exchanging words with him, fear that those eyes would turn on you in anger, something you didn’t feel that you could bear. An odd weight on your chest for a literal stranger. You chalked it up to social anxiety, though you knew there was more to it. 

Still, it wasn’t for a lack of trying that you still hadn’t gotten to know him. You had wordlessly offered him many a bagel, a donut, a bear claw, a puff pastry, for crying out loud, but he had always politely waved you off, ears red in what you assumed to be annoyance. You felt a little dismissed, like Pooh trying to invite Eeyore to come play, but you knew this was likely how he treated everyone, and eventually gave into being content with knowing the people you knew. You weren’t one for a challenge that made you look stupid. You knew your place. 

You still wondered what he did, though. Your stop was the same, but your routes after were different, yet you swore you saw him around S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters sometimes. 

 It was nearing two years of seeing him on the B train that you found out what he did. You were on your short walk from the cafe near Delmar’s where you got your morning latte, humming softly as you passed alleyway after alleyway. You were almost to the station when you caught sight of a familiar silhouette. On his knees, head in hands, there was your mystery man. No doubt about it, it was him. It was the same kevlar jacket, the same dark wash jeans and steel-toed boots, the same uneven shoulders.

You hesitated, paused beside the alley, facing him. His breaths came far too frequent and far too short, visible in the cold Brooklyn air. This was one of your worst ideas, but you couldn’t stand by and watch him stumble through this, quite awfully you might add. Unfortunately for him, it looked like he didn’t know a single coping mechanism to get through a panic attack. Hell, you doubted he even knew that he was even having a panic attack. 

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what lay ahead, and approached him. 

He didn’t notice you at first, hands ungloved, revealing that one of them was made of some sort of expensive metal. It looked like it could crush you in a second. You gulped, certain you didn’t want to scare him, and quietly called out, “Hey, there.”

He turned to you in an instant, a hand dropping to his waistline. Oh my god, he was armed, too. What had you gotten yourself into?

You knew that looking scared wouldn’t help, though. You slowly dropped to your knees as well, your worried eyes locked with his terrified ones. 

“Hi, honey,” you began, your lips suddenly feeling dry. 

He was still panicking, one hand on his chest, but he didn’t say a word. 

You tried your best to only focus on what he needed at the moment. You dropped your bag to the ground and put your near empty coffee beside it. 

“It looks like you’re having a panic attack. I think I can help you.”

He chews the inside of his cheek, hands shaking terribly. “Can I give you my hand?” you ask. 

He hesitates, drawing his hand closer to his body, as if his body language could be any more inward. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, love, I promise. I only want to help.” He relaxes slightly at your steady tone. He reached his flesh hand out for you to take. You grab it with both of yours and inch closer to him. You can feel how warm he is, hands slightly sweaty from panic, the pulse in his wrist thundering. 

“These things always end. Know that. It’s going to be over soon,” you reassure, watching as sweat builds on his temple.

His eyes are restless, looking over you and around you, never pausing. “Focus on me, sweetheart. Just look at me. Yes, there you go. Let yourself breathe. You’re going to get through this. I know it’s stupid hard for no reason and you feel helpless, but just trust me when I say you’ll get through this.”

He gave you a curt nod, grateful eyes staying on yours.

“Can you tell me your name, honey?”

He nearly choked, voice shaky as he rasped out, “Bucky.”

Your eyes flashed in recognition. You didn’t want to say anything that might trigger him yet, though, so you softened your features and smiled. “Sweet. That’s a sweet name. I like it.”

Bucky’s breaths were slowly steadying, his pulse decelerating. 

You stayed with him, coaxing him off of the edge and whispering words of encouragement. 

 He was dying. This was it. Some old lady in the coffee shop he frequented saw his metal arm and screamed, calling him a monster and that was it. He left the shop, unable to breathe. He checked his body for bullets, but he couldn’t find any. Bucky was certain his lungs had been shot, though. He’d only ever woken up from nightmares with this feeling. There’s no way this wasn’t real. 

Heart in his throat, Bucky pulled off to a nearby alley and nearly vomited his internal organs. The world was spinning. He didn’t know how he got to his knees with his head in his hands but he was there now, unable to fight off the evil feeling that he would never be normal, never be anything better than HYDRA’s monster.

Tears threatened to breach Bucky’s eyes as he still couldn’t take in a proper breath. He imagined drowning would be a better way to die than this.

He was so caught up in his distress, in the shadows that threatened to pull him under, that he hardly heard your voice, muffled like it was underwater.

Bucky flinched hard, surfacing, immediately reaching for the pistol in his waistband. He had a fleeting thought that put into perspective for him how sick it was that the one technological adjustment he didn’t have to make from his old life to his new life was weaponry. He knew of every one; he had _used _every one.

He took you in, eyes glossing over your overly concerned figure. 

Fucking hell, of course he would lose his shit in front of the woman he had become sweet on from the morning train for two goddamn years. Bucky had no real reason to take the B train. He had initially only taken it for a week when his bike was in the shop, but that week had given him more faith in humanity than anything had in the last decade.

He had noticed you the moment you had walked into the train, eyes taking in every one on the car and greeting near everyone around him. You checked in with a teenage boy’s science project and urged him to apply to an internship where you worked–S.H.I.E.L.D. 

You were warm, and bubbly, unburdened by any horrors, at least not on first look, and you cared so much for every individual you came across. Bucky hoped you didn’t notice him watching you like a creep the entire ride, jaw slack and eyes way too fond for a stranger.

Though he was headed the same way you were, he went the opposite direction at the seventh stop so it didn’t look like he was following you. 

He came back day after day, your blinding smile and kind eyes starting off every one of his mornings until he began to dread the weekends when he couldn’t see you–nights plagued with nightmares and memories of a person he wanted to set himself as far apart from as possible. He didn’t realize how much he had come to depend on seeing your plushy face and hearing your silken voice until nearly two years had already passed. 

You were always too bright of a star for him to accept any of your kindness, however. Sometimes he felt unworthy of even looking at you, a sun in the cold world he lived in. That’s why he always waved off any of your offerings, often without even making eye contact, trying to hold down the flush of his skin from his flustered state.

He never imagined that this is how he would finally meet you.

Oh no. _Oh no, ohnoohnoohno. _This couldn’t be happening. You had definitely seen his hand. There was no hiding it now with his gloves strewn at his feet. Bucky wondered what you thought. He figured it was something along the lines of repulsion. But no part of you looked at him in disgust, only with affection. 

“Hi, honey,” you practically crooned, the pet name making him practically melt into a puddle at your feet. It wasn’t condescending at all, only genuine concern in your voice. You told him he was having a panic attack. Is that what this slow death was? You seemed to know a lot about them. He hoped it wasn’t from personal experience. Shit was miserable.

Then you asked for his hand and he practically threw himself away in the dumpster closeby. He couldn’t imagine why you would offer to touch him. Him, who was the devil in disguise. 

He swallowed thickly, chewing the inside of his cheek, before he gave in. He couldn’t help it. There you were, pleading so tenderly with him to take your hand. How could he refuse? He didn’t know how he ever refused you anything, to be honest. It seemed almost blasphemous.

His lungs wouldn’t stop wailing and the world still wouldn’t stop spinning. You were the only anchor and even then he wasn’t sure of his footing. 

You took his hand in both of his and described exactly how he was feeling, as if you had felt it before. And you were calling him all these sweet things like honey and love and sweetheart and he didn’t know if he could survive it, but this was in a good way, a sort of death he didn’t deserve but was desperate for.

And then you asked his name. Before he knew it, he was saying it, and you were calling it sweet and then he was near choking out a sob, suddenly wishing he knew yours. He already knew he loved it.

It felt like you knew him then, and he knew you. He wondered if you felt it, too.

There was something so intimate about the little bubble you two had created, and all at once you realized just how much you had been craving the presence of this near stranger, the chance to know him. The tension was palpable and there was no true rhyme or reason to it, but it had you on the verge of tears. 

Of course, you knew far more about him now. You knew he was Steve’s best friend way before he was the Winter Soldier and way before he was this–essentially an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. You knew things about him that Steve told you, that you weren’t sure if he’d ever tell you himself. You knew he wanted to be a scientist in the 40s, but he saw Sergeant as the best way to help his country at the time. You knew how much he always cared for the little guy, a quality so deeply ingrained in yourself that you immediately adored in him. You knew of his struggles with coming to terms with his past as a HYDRA pawn, and in fact, you had helped engineer the very suit he wore on most assignments. Your fates were considerably more intertwined than you had ever realized. 

Once he had fully come through the panic attack, heart in your throat, you finally admitted. “I’m a friend of Steve’s. Erm, at least, I was,” you corrected. The worst timing. You had no business dumping that on him after what just happened, but something told you you needed to blurt it out. That it would help. 

At that, you heard a deep chuckle. You looked up to see Bucky full out-laughing and the sight had you biting your lip to keep away your own smile. He was so free when he was laughing, all of his teeth were out and his eyes crinkled in a way that drew at your heart-strings. So young. He laughed with his whole chest.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” you said, smiling.

Bucky shook his head, still beaming, “It’s nothing. Well, actually, it means a lot. It’s just funny. It makes perfect sense. Of course, of course, Rogers, you little bastard.”

“What makes sense?” you pushed as he stood up, pulling you up with him. 

He caged you in against the wall, chewing his lip, “It just makes sense that Steve would know exactly what I like.” He was deep red at the admission, but you were still processing, your mind slightly fuzzy from your view, his arms on either side of your head and his face inches from yours. He was going to kiss you. You could almost taste his breath when his eyes widened and he flinched away, realizing. 

Bucky apologized, stepping back, “I’m-I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I’m not a creep, I promise, I’ve just seen you around on the train and I’ve seen the way you talk to the kid and to Delmar and I have to admit I’ve grown a little sweet on ya, but I-I understand if–”

He didn’t get the chance to get through anymore because you had pulled him by his jacket, crashing your lips against his, hands immediately reaching for his hair. 

He gasped in surprise, an mmph! making its way past his lips and into yours, but he quickly recovered, hands dropping to your waist and his lips bruising yours. The kisses were hungry, rushed, Bucky taking your lower lip between his only to bite down on the plump skin softly. 

You whimpered, letting your tongues envelop each other, reaching, longing, craving something more. 

Bucky pulled away, pupils blown, lips swollen red, his face utterly wrecked. You found that you wished he could always look like that, as long as it was because of you. “Wait, wait, wait. I don’t-” He smiled all crooked,, “I don’t even know your name, doll.”

You laughed, trailing your nose against his, “You can call me whatever you want if you keep kissing me like that.”

Bucky chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck, whispering against the skin there, “Oh, I plan on it.”

You didn’t know where all of this boldness came from, but you loved it on him. “It’s y/n.”

Bucky hummed, “y/n.” It rolled off of his lips as he tasted it, testing how it felt. He lifted your legs around his waist and pushed you further into the wall. “It’s perfect.”

Your hands roamed across his torso, over the layers of kevlar as he captured your lips with his again. Your breaths were visible as you panted between kisses, both of you flushed a deep red from the cold air. 

He pushed against you at just the right spot, causing the perfect sort of friction and you gasped, before moaning, “_Oh! _Bucky…”

“Shit, say my name like that again, sweetheart, and I’ll take you right here.”

You felt so far from reality then. Your boss would be a little upset but what did it matter? You were on time every day of your life. You had clung to routine for so long out of a need for an anchor from all of the chaos of this world that you had forgotten what it was like to do something spontaneous, to live, to love. While you were nowhere near loving this man, you felt it somehow only a matter of time that you ended up here, with him. He was Steve’s childhood friend. He worked at S.H.I.E.L.D. He took the bloody B train. You were bound to meet him. Something told you that you were meant to act on only your heart now, your heart which Bucky had touched so deeply without you even realizing it. He saw you. He saw your kindness. While you never did any good deed for attention, being seen for it was utterly validating. In this world, constantly making the right decision took a toll, and this was a reminder that it was worth it in the end. The right people would see it. Your choices, however small, did matter. Your empathy was your most prized possession and you would be damned if you’d let go of someone who saw that so clearly from just the morning fucking train.

Cloudy and dazed, you wrapped your legs around Bucky tighter. “Fuck it, what’s stopping you?”

Bucky’s laughed nervously, “Wait, you’re serious?”

You raised a brow, “What? Can’t handle it, Sarg?”

You could tell he liked that as he bit his lip, eyes hooded. “Oh, I think I can handle you, doll.”

You leaned into his ear, whispering, “Prove it.”

He huffed, hand around your neck as he slotted his mouth over yours, once again kissing you dizzy.

Hands tight on your hips and nearly bruising you, he moved his lips to your neck first, and then your collarbone, tongue and teeth working together to work you up so much you weren’t sure he even needed to touch you for you to climax right there. 

You had a moment then. Again, rethinking everything. That was kind of your secret special power, after all. You all of a sudden saw a future. There was something so intimate about every interaction with this man, and while you never judged anyone for jumping into sex with someone, you weren’t sure it was the best way for you to start something that could be important to you, not with you being a flight-risk and constantly anxious. 

You slowed your breath and put your hand on his jaw, thumbing his cheekbone, something you only felt unafraid to do while his eyes were still on your neck. When his eyes met yours, you withdrew, holding your wrist in your other hand, close to your chest. He recognized the lack of surety in your gaze, softly dropping your legs to the ground as you steadied yourself with your hands on the wall behind you. He gave you a second, both of you catching your breaths before he quietly asked, “Everything okay?” 

It still felt as steamy as before, your eyes kept meeting and leaving, your pants visible in the cool air, lips swollen, plump, and a luscious pink, only centimeters away from each other, but there was also a comfortable air of quiet. There were no expectations, only patience. 

You picked at the fabric of your collar, looking at his face, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “I just,” you chuckled, “I just realized I kinda want to take you out first, Sarg.” You smiled a little, “Just you know, to make sure you can handle it and all that.” 

Bucky laughed, eyes crinkling as he lifted your chin with his thumb, “You’re gonna make me prove it, doll?”

“If you don’t mind,” you whispered, jutting your chin out even more.

He licked his lips, a sort of excited challenge igniting in his eyes, “Nothing would make me happier.” 

[anika-ann]

Mine, Yours, Ours (Love) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; a part of this pseudomedieval-fantasy AU or a one-shot, I suppose

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x witch!reader   Word Count: 4,8k

Summary: Sir Rogers, the honorary knight of Starkerbürg, feels blessed. Another day has passed, another day he gets to come home; to his lovely wife and his child. A household full of love in the face of everyday bliss and hardships of life alike.

But there’s a shift in the air tonight; something sweet and exciting crackling in the air, a longing and all-consuming need blooming within him as he sees his wife, so divine, in the most mundane and extraordinary of moments.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, body worship and (light) breeding kink, oral (fem-rec), PIV, but also tooth-rotting fluff, polytheism and light blesphemry, Slovak terms of agreement ‘cause I can (translation at the end), knight Steve 'cause he's a warning

A/N: A super-belated gift for @stellar-solar-flare 's birthday - or perhaps an early Christmas gift 🤭 fits after the events of the previous instalments but can probably be read as a standalone; DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics

Shiny armour; a heavy sword by the hip. Stance straight and tall, head held high.

An emblem of the kingdom, worn with pride. Bloody hands and scars from defending those in need.

Standing witness to events remembered by history and lending a hand in their creation.

Virtues of a knight; strength, courage, chivalry. Loyalty. Mercy and generosity; faith.

The honour of the noble servant of Starkerbürg, the glory only growing after the appointment of the new king.

Words of praise by royalty itself, whispers of admiration from commoners and nobility at every corner.

No higher honour in these lands than knighthood; and yet.

And yet as Steven stepped into the house, all the whispers and praises fell silent in his head, the great honour slipping off his shoulders into nothingness.

As Steven stepped into his home, he allowed the thoughts and echoes of sensation in his chest having been following him all day fill in his lungs, heart and soul alike instead.

Conviction ringing truer than the steel of a sword against another.

There was no greater honour than to having stood tall at the altar where his future wife had awaited him. No greater pride than to having hold a new life, one he and his beloved had created, in his arms. No greater title to carry than the one of a loving father and a loyal husband. No greater fortune than to witness and take part in precious, ungraspable and yet achingly tangible moments history might not remember, but Steven shall, forever.

You turned to him from the stove as you were setting the tea pot down, gifting him a smile; and from his very soul, Steven would swear that all the gold and luxurious robes of the royal halls in the castle could not compare to your beauty.

His wife; the mother of his child.

The yearning to hold you in his arms again struck Steve with force beyond all the longings throughout the day combined. And yet he hesitated; torn as to whether to come to greet you or the little human sleeping soundly in the cradle first, his heart large enough to adore both and wishing to show his affections all at once.

Your smile turned softer as if you sensed his hesitance and eagerness; you beckoned with your chin to the sleeping baby, solving his dilemma without taking offence, offering warmth in your gaze as Steve’s own wandered to the small bundle of joy, his steps sure and impatient after having missed his daughter since the early hours of the morning.

His breath caught in his lungs; he had seen her for over three hundred days now and yet, air stuck in his chest every single time he laid eyes on the beautiful miracle of life.

Her lips were slightly pursed, tiny hands in fists as if she was trying to grasp her dreams and make them stay; much like Steven had once grabbed after his own dream of you and him together, despite your worlds seemingly laying hundreds of miles apart. She cooed silently as he leaned over the crib and settled his hand over her belly, his index finger caressing her soft cheek, causing her to stir minutely. For a child barely old a year, her face already showed a myriad of expressions; at his careful touch, she almost seemed to smile in her sleep.

Steven’s chest inflated almost painfully, so full it might burst; by gods, he had been blessed. Running the pad of his finger over her still closed fists, he marvelled at the small fingers clenched so fiercely. A strong, healthy, gorgeous child. A gift from the gods he shall always fight to be worthy of; a gift from you.

Tearing his eyes, prickling with tears, away, his gaze found you, a goddess in her own right pouring two cups of tea almost mundanely, the smell of herbs filling the little cabin and complimenting its warmth; the house he had helped build with his own hands; the house you had turned into a home with your generous heart.

Striding to you in quick long steps, he wrapped his arms around your waist at last, even if not before you had set the pot down as not to hurt you.   

The glimpse of your smile was warmer than the fire in the hearth, your body melting into his front so willingly and with such relaxed trust as if you, too, were only now entering your home despite having spent most of your day right here.

“Welcome home, rytier moj,” you whispered simply. Your palms laid over his, caressing in response to his lips instinctively attaching to the tattoo adorning your neck, soft warm skin humming with life under his kiss.

“It is good to be home, bosorka moja,” he muttered, granting himself a generous inhale, all senses tuning to you; the scent and warmth of your skin, the softness and fullness of your flesh causing his head to swim and his heart calm, thoughts circling around the centre and sense of his life he’d hold onto with vigour should he die the very next moment. “How are the two most important ladies in the world doing?”

Your hand rose to card through his hair, gentle touch sliding over his cheek, a smile adorning your lips and voice alike.

“Oh? In the whole world, rytier moj? Perhaps in yours…”

“Same difference.”

Turning your head, you caught his lips with yours, a taste of sunshine and pure contentment on his tongue as you smiled into the kiss and sighed, the only sign of the day’s exhaustion you allowed yourself to display. A smidge of worry creased Steve’s forehead, his arms tightening a fraction as to not only hold you and indulge in the feel of you in his embrace, but to support you too.

“It was a good day, rytier moj,” you said, a drop of humour rendering your voice a tad warmer. “However, you should know that your daughter made all the pots fly for a bit, which led to me having to clean up for eternity.”

Steven chuckled, nose nudging your temple.

The image of you having to run around rose vivid in his mind, along with concern about long hours of exhausting work of caring for the small child, no matter how joyful at moments, tiring you out; yet, the tenderness of your voice and the soft note of humour made his chest hum with overwhelming feeling of love, wide smile attacking his lips.

“Hm… I am sorry to hear that, love,” he said. “But have you noticed, how our little one is referred to as my daughter whenever she is up to no good? I find it curious, especially since such magical feat is something she has certainly taken after you…”

His thoughts wandered, the sensation of your body filling his hands so well evoking the memory of you indeed having your magic burst out of you before, more than once; sinful, beautiful images filling his mind. The memory of the taste of you tickled on his tongue, your cries of pleasure as your hips had buckled under his firm grip echoing so sweetly in his ears, heat pooling in his groin, rousing visceral need to hear and touch and taste and have again.

“Mmm, I would not be so certain, rytier moj…. stirring trouble is most certainly your specialty.”

You opposed him, amused; perhaps oblivious, for the moment, of how his grip on your sides grew firmer, your warmth and scent bringing his body to the fullest, most delicious alert.

What was it you said? Stirring trouble? Being up to no good? Oh, his sweet wife, his lovely bosorka… you had no inkling of what he was up to indeed, the longing to sink the entirety of his being into you turning too much to bear for him only.

“Is that so?” he chuckled.

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard something in his voice change; or perhaps it was his hands, sliding over your hip, moving over your belly, fingers inching lower in a wordless plea, lips pressing to the side of your neck again, lingering, a greedy inhale causing his head to spin and his hips thrusting forward just an inch, to feel more, more, more.

“Perhaps you are right, láska moja… You are so, so good. I do recall you only have your magic act out of control when I am near you.” When I take you, when I have you tether at the edge of unholy bliss, when I sink into you and make you mine. My love, my wife, the heart of my life, of my family. My everything, mine to love, to protect, to have, his mind whispered sinfully, no words spilling from his lips as instead they wandered over the column of your throat you so generously revealed when you tipped your head back to rest it on his shoulder, desire and pride of being the one to have you succumb to his ministrations so willingly roaring in his veins even as his voice was intimately quiet. “When I am so, so close to you, my name on your pretty lips, parted in bliss…”

“Steven-”

No hesitation. No protest. A plea instead, a godsdamn prayer of his name on the very lips he longed to taste and claim; and for a loyal worshipper of forces beyond Steve’s imagination, for being a force of nature yourself, you sounded damn near reverent when speaking the name of the mere mortal he was and it filled him with dark delight.

Pride was a sin; but he had established long ago that for you, he’d walk the path to hell with an indulgent smile on his face. For him, the highest authority to judge him was but pliant, warm and so wonderfully alive in his arms, an echo of the want he himself felt humming in your flesh right under his palms; your permission was the only one he’d ever seek.

“May I have you, bosorka moja? I missed you all day long, missed being home…”

“Yes-“

Just as the single breathless left your lips, his impatient fingers slid under your skirts, a silent groan escaping him when his fingertips reached your heat, soft, warm, inviting, your body arching slightly into his touch.

“We missed you too, I missed y—you.” Your breath hitched so lovely as he couldn’t but nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, the pads of his fingers brushing along your welcoming heat instead of sinking in, teasing himself as much as you. “I-- longed for you, your voice, your breath, your touch-”

Gods you were made for him or perhaps he was made for you or perhaps both—a beautiful temptress, created to seduce all his senses. To see you fall apart, to hear your cries, to taste you, to feel you, to smell like you for days to come-

Retreating his hand minutely despite your startled silent keen, he grasped at your hips, spinning you around until your lower back gently bumped into the make-shift counter, hand under your skirt spreading all over the apex of your thigh to keep you still, mouth claiming yours with hunger, groin rocking against yours just to swallow the delicious sound you made at the contact.

Your hands came to life too, sinking into his locks and gripping all gentle and needy, your other roaming over his chest, down and down to his abdomen and lower to his pants, leading him to drink from your lips deeper before tearing away to press his lips just above your collarbone, both his and your chest rising and falling rapidly, meeting in the middle, your pulse thundering under his lips. Gods, when he looked up just slightly, your mouth was so gorgeously kiss-swollen already and parted with rapid breaths, pupils blown wide and fixated on nothing but him, touch so hot and purposeful and owning just as wished and did own you, as you had given yourself to him and would love to give again; even if the light circles under your eyes whispered of how much of you you had already given today and had been giving every day.

But gods were you his and he breathed in deeply to allow the miracle settle in his very soul, sending a silent prayer of gratitude for you being his and him being yours.

A ring on both his and your ring finger; a dark tattoo with each other’s name and an intricate pattern over your hearts, your daughter’s name right under. A family; the centre and the sense of his life.

And you were nothing short of breathtaking.

His wife, his love, the mother of his child; a cradle of love and life. A force of nature just as capable of protecting as his to protect. A goddess in her own right; awaiting as to hear out his scrambled thoughts since he appeared to pause a brewing storm of desire.

“Gods, bosorka moja, you could lead a man into madness-“

You tugged at his hair the slightest bit, pulling his mouth back to yours, a hushed whisper of ‘ľubim ťa’ falling from your lips to his and back, and Steven was lost to that very madness, and hoped to never be found again.

Instead, he wandered over the gorgeous landscape of your body, mapping every enticing curve and soft valley even as one of his hands already reached the destination, welcomed with everything he could ever desire. He’d make the journey the goal for it was pure bliss and he was wandering but in his very home, lands he lived to explore and worship over and over again, nothing short of reverent.

And should his will be yours as well, he’d see to nestle at home and never ever depart again, leaving behind traces that could never be erased.

Breaths coming out short, lips parted; a slight arch to your back limited by Steven’s grasp, the most loving cage where the gift of overwhelming pleasure bordered on a punishment.

Thoughts scattered and dissolved in bliss, feelings and sensations were ruling instead – and yet they served you all the same; a lover’s sense as strong as a mother’s instinct.

Love so profound you’d see it – feel it, taste it, breathe it – all the same should you be robbed of all senses at once, was poured into Steve’s every action, touching your very heart and soul as much as ever; and yet. There was a shift tonight, a softly crackling change in the air. You could tell. A lover knows.

Steven’s touch felt different tonight, as did his undivided attention. Thumbs pressing a tad firmer into your hips as he held you down, lips drinking as if with insatiable thirst, leaving your throat raw from soundless cries. Lips wandering, hands grasping, dark gaze following every trace his heated touch left behind, praises rolling off of his tongue; of soft, soft plump skin, so warm and welcoming, a gift, a grail, the only home he’d ever want, a breath-taking art to wreck and recreate all over again; Sinful words written by your husband’s lips all over your body like poetry quietly read to a lover’s ear in hidden corners of the castle only known to those who wished to hide their desires from prying eyes.

With bliss worthy of gods gifted you once, twice, Steven’s heavy-lidded eyes kept hypnotizing you through between the valley of your breasts, the pads of his fingers appreciating the flesh so carefully but with intangible visceral need. His intent gaze grew impossibly dark – the last image you saw before your eyes slipped shut with a rasp of his name, your body trembling with ecstasy for the third time that night.

Distantly aware of your magic casting lights and shadows over your little cabin, setting inanimate objects in motion, a breathless chuckle left your lips.

Your beloved pressed a firm sloppy kiss above your belly button, thumb running over your hipbone to ease you down to earthly low as he had lifted you to heavenly heights; lingering, he breathed you in, over and over for so long a flicker of concern wormed its way into your foggy mind.

“Rytier moj?”

His palm sprawled over your abdomen, replacing his mouth; he peppered kisses over your sternum, over the flesh of your breasts, his gaze meeting yours with such heat and something so familiar and yet ungraspable it sent a shiver down your spine, a tingle in the back of your mind.

Something truly was different tonight. In his touch, in his gaze, in his aura—a good man, a loyal man, fighter, protector, father, lover-

“You are the closest thing I’ve ever seen to a goddess, láska moja…” he declared quietly, his lips brushing yours with tenderness that would make the gods themselves weep, and you as well. “Your body is a miracle I shall worship over and over.”

The tingle in the back of your mind sparkled brighter, recognition dawning oh so slowly, your rapidly beating heart thundering now.

Worship. Religious reverence; in mortal flesh.

He had laid you on your marriage bed as if it had been an altar itself, an offering to gods and goddesses and a prayer to the one he had just deemed you all at once.

The holy grail. A miracle.

A goddess.

Gathering your swirling thoughts as you would have gathered raindrops during the first full moon of spring, you realized therein lied the difference of this night; the most devoted of husbands, your Steven, your knight, blurring the lines of human and celestial.

Devotion and worship.

His love had always reached beyond human understanding of just how much of affection a single heart, even the brightest of souls, may contain and pour into another, filling your chest with sensation no language of men or gods could hope to describe; and yet tonight, it went beyond the beyond.

Every single gesture, every word, whispers of prayers to a godlike entity; his lips pressed to your body as if he glimpsed and touched the divine through your body. Through you. In you.

“Blasphemy,” slipped from your lips, no more power in the admonition than in your blissed out body, the recognition of utter adoration your husband harboured for you rendering you unable to catch your breath.

“It is not, gods must forgive me,” Steven responded, stubborn as he could be, the darkness in his eyes turning warmer as his lips pressed over your heart, involuntary tears prickling in your eyes at the sincerity lacing his hoarse voice, his absent smile. “Beautiful, soft and strong… made for loving… my precious wife, the mother of my child-“

“Our child,” you corrected him, your voice cracking with emotion rather than humour, your fingers carding through his locks.

Steven’s smile only widened, eyes glimmering.

“Yes, ours. Indeed, my love. Our blessing…”

He captured your mouth again, soft and demanding, drinking from your lips as if they tasted of ambrosia the gods themselves offered to him.

A gift. A miracle made to worship. Your body.

A goddess, love and life, his wife, the mother of his-

Realization struck you like a lightning out of clear skies, your body was overtaken by a tremble, frantic heart stumbling in your ribcage.

Blurring the lines towards the divine was but a minute shift your Steven had been building up to ever since the day he had first laid his lips on yours, since he had first made love to you.

No, the true difference of tonight was laid in purpose. Purposebeyond sharing your love together, purpose beyond bliss.

A child.

Your husband’s action, while guided by profound love, were spurred by desire and new longing. He wished for another child; the divine miracle your body, when loved by his, was capable of.

The closest to a goddess. A prayer. A plea. An offering.

“Láska moja… I shall give you my everything,” he promised sweetly, a sinfully sincere tilt to his words. “If you only let me, if you’d only give me, us, more than a man can ask, more than I can give but shall forever worship you for, fight to be worthy of…”

A surge of power that had nothing to do with magic filled your veins, affection so urgent it panged sharply in your heart and your tears spilled over, your voice caught in your throat.

Gods, you wanted.

To give him, to give yourself, to give to your daughter--- to be blessed by the gods once more, a blinding image flickering behind your eyelids.

Your daughter, sat on your Steven’s shoulders, placing a crown weaved of daisies on his head, her musical laughter filling the air, causing your lips to curl up in a smile; familiar. Such a familiar image, one that had once given you strength to battle the impossible; now changing. The idyllic image of a meadow with your husband and your child growing brighter, your gaze suddenly snapping to the firm grip on your thigh; a set of small hands pressing various herbs and flowers to your skirts, an adorable chuckle and a joyous cry of ‘for mama—pretty!’ reaching your ears even as the face of the boy remained somewhat blurry beyond the warm blue of his eyes. Your Steven’s eyes-

With a gasp you snapped your eyes open, Steven’s dextrous fingers continuing their appreciation of your burning skin, tracing the lines of your tattoo with his wet lips, lighting your sated needs alive.

“You are literally glowing, bosorka moja… say yes,” he coaxed, “say yes and I will keep you sated and so full every day, every night, until my seed comes to fruition… another little one, your belly swelling with our child, a little miracle-- I shall take such good care of you, my love, of all of you, I swear as gods are my witnesses-“

A minute crack to his voice, having been dripping sweet and sinful like honey; regret and desire so pure you could not bear his words anymore, reaching out to cradle his cheeks and silence him with a kiss.

You could taste it on your tongue; something so primal and possessive as laying claim, to continue one’s bloodline, gently laced with a need of much noble nature. To protect. To take care. To provide. Read minds you could not, but a lover knows. A wife knows. The hitch in his voice could have been caused by myriad of reasons and yet you had no doubt, your heart feeling more than reason; it laid heavy on his conscience still that he had not known from the very start of you being with a child, that he could have not been treating you as you’d deserved in his mind. Not treated the way his love, the mother of his child, a goddess in her own right should have been.

He wished to be there. He wished to be the kind of man he believed you were worthy of.

You let your lips drink from his and hoped he could taste your truth on your tongue; by gods, he was worthy. If he could only understand just how much, how overwhelming loving him could be, how you’d perish before not giving him whatever he should ask; if he only knew how you would wish for another child yourself.

“Yes, Steven-- by gods, yes-“

Heart stumbling in his chest under your palm, he tore his mouth from yours, gaze roaming your face in the soft light of the dying fire in the hearth.

“Yes?” he breathed, dark eyes sparkling with delight, the curve to his kiss-swollen lips as sinful as blinding.

You could not but chuckle, fresh tears spilling over the undiluted joy and determination he observed you with.

“Yes, rytier moj. Let us make love and create it all the more.”

He stole all air from your lungs with his next kiss, hands setting to a journey with clear destination ahead, his large body nearly vibrating with acute need his touch seemed to pour straight into your veins, heat burning low in your belly as you arched against him.

“Please-“

“Oh such a sweet plea,” he chuckled darkly, a teasing touch to assure you still awaited him more than prepared, before giving you just a hint of the pleasure he was about to shatter you with. “My precious wife, my wonderful bosorka, I shall give you anything you ask, anything you need…”

Your silent keen of his name was drowned in his mouth, the soundless cry of yes as he finally moved to make love to you as gods intended drowned in a cry piercing the cabin-

-but not one of pleasure. Of discomfort and misery.

A pair of lovers frozen in time for several frantic beats of hearts.

Steven groaned, lips detaching from yours with true blasphemy.

“I am afraid your little one does not long for a sibling,” he grumbled, taking a deep breath, slowly, oh so slowly and carefully moving away, eliciting a soft gasp from you despite his great effort – and a tired chuckle as you too returned to earthly realms in which your child – yours and Steven’s – demanded your attention.

“Oh, mine, is she now?” you challenged him cheekily as you went to stand up and tend to your momentarily not-quite-joyous bundle of joy.

Steven’s warm palm sprawled over your shoulder, pressing you down gently.

“I shall get her.”

“She is likely hungry-”

“Then I shall bring her,” he said, leaving no room for arguing despite his soft tone. “You rest, my love.”

Melting against your bed, you obeyed, a content hum rumbling in Steven’s chest as he leaned to you and briefly pressed his lips to your forehead.

As soon as he moved away, you sat up still; if for nothing else then for the precious sight of your husband crossing the modest interior of the cabin to reach into the cradle, large hands reverently careful as he picked up your daughter to the protective cage of his arms, cooing silently at her to settle her cries. Your heart swelled with pride and overwhelming affection, your blessings counted one by one, over and over.

Cherishing the feeling of holding his child, Steven took too long of moments to bring her and nestle her in your arms instead. Lingering with his touch, he pressed the sweetest of kisses to the crown of your head as you whispered to your daughter and begun to nurse her, before he busied himself with maintaining the fire. And yet, the moment his chore was done, he hurried to seat himself by your side again, wrapping his arms around the most important ladies in his whole world, gaze so warm you could feel it without tearing your own away from the child attached to your breast.

And once your little one was sated, cries having long turned into content coos, a few sleepy blinks of her large blue eyes bringing her to the land of dreams again, your knight without shiny armour gathered her to his protective embrace again, carrying her back to her cradle just as slowly, laying her down with a tender kiss and a whisper of ‘ľubim ťa, maličká’.

As he returned, you took his hand and coaxed him to lie next to you, his arms spreading to hold you close and warm through the night, shifting to hide his face in your hair.

Oh your sweet knight, so dutiful in watching over his beloveds’ sleep… so wholly unaware of how your body, while worn to a bone, had been charged with a taste of something wonderful and exciting; yearning, craving, unbearable.

He released but a soft noise of surprise when your hand found its way through the warm cage of his arms, escaping the loving embrace to cup his face, gaze flickering over his handsome features.

“Bosorka moja?”

A smile forming on your lips, you leaned forward, capturing his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss, palms caressing the expanse of his shoulders – the large arms of a protector, provider, lover – body pressing to his as your hands began to wander.

“You made me a promise, rytier moj,” you whispered, sultriness creeping into your voice, causing your Steven’s breath to catch, fingers, having grasped at you so tenderly during your kiss, flexing on the flesh of your waist. “Are you not keeping it? Have you changed your mi-”

Your breathless laughter was the last sound your lips were allowed to release before Steve responded to your affection with vigour, rolling your bodies over to trap yours under his soothing weight, fingers running over the lines of your body to continue where you two had left of.

“Oh, I always keep my promises, bosorka moja.”

You brushed your fingertips over his cheek, a moment of slow gentleness before descending into the whirlwind of passion, a smile playing on your lips.

“I know, láska moja. Then let us deliver on this one.”

bosorka moja - witch mine rytier moj - knight mine láska moja - love mine maličká - little one (to a child) ľubim ťa - I love you

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist (now with blurb masterlist as well)

I'm going to scream into the void after this for a while 🥹🫠😩 You're welcomed to join me!

Thank you for reading, loves 💕 If you enjoyed and can spare a few seconds of a minute to reblog or comment, you shall have my gratitude ✨

I hope you'll have lovely Holidays, one way or the other 💕

[marvelmcumania]

Stalker - Part 1

Pairing: Soft Dark Steve Rogers x Fem Reader

Summary:

NOTE: This was my first attempt at writing fics and soft dark fic This was also me writing a book for the first time It's from the same book I posted on Wattpad the only thing this is slightly edited There could be cringe moments so... uh yeah English is not my first language Do not repost Feel free to reblog and let me know your thoughts

Navigation | Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist |Steve Rogers Masterlist

Warning: Stalking following a person

Today, he saw her again walking in the busy streets of the city wearing his black hoodie cap and jeans he followed her. She looked pretty today wearing his favorite coat and pants, which she always wears on Saturday. He saw her getting into the cafe, hugging a tall black-haired man. Steve clenched his jaws, not believing what she was doing. He went in and sat at a nearby table where they were conversing.

"You know Loki, I really hate these parties, and Mr. Stark loves to flirt with me, which kinda is weird to me he has an assistant right, Miss Potts," she said. Steve gave a thought that tomorrow they have a party. Will she be safe? Will the other guys try to hop on her who is this, Mr.Strak?

"Your coffee, sir," the waitress said he nodded and started listening to their conversation again.

"I know darling but what can we do don't worry you be with me and Mr.Stark won't approach you cause he hates me to the core" 

"Oh, Lokes I am so sorry. I still don't get why Mr.Strak hates you" says while taking a sip of her lemon tea."He chuckles and says "You know that Y/N I had pranked him on Halloween day and then the start of famous Laufeyson-Stark prank wars."They both start to laugh. Her contagious laugh always makes him happy. He sees them making an exit from the cafe after paying their bill and soon he does the same and follows them again to her office.

He stops near the gate and sees her fading into the office door with him again holding their hands together he clenches his jaw. He buys a bouquet near her office writes something and leaves it near the office gates. Steve starts to walk away and starts to smile he knows when she returns to her home.

IN THE OFFICE.....

"Good Morning Happy" y/n says while entering the office "Good Morning Y/N and Loki" Happy nods at them with a serious face Loki also nods with him as well. They towards the lift and press the switch which goes to their floor. It was quiet until Y/N asked him again" So Lokes how did Mr.Stark allow you in the office after those stunts of yours? "Duh, obviously Thor, "Loki says to her with a grin. She chuckles at the answer he gave. Loki asks her "Y/N?" She hums at him. "How is Peter?" You know the same situation since we lost our parents he has slipped into bad depression Aunt May and I always try Peter to keep him company. The doctor told us he has a higher rate of killing himself And I try to keep him away from these knives or anything."She says with a dry chuckle."I am so sorry darling I wish there could be an easy way you know I have been through the same when mother died" Both Y/N and Loki had been close friends since school she also knows how Loki was treated at home She Loved everyone except his father who didn't like Loki since he was adopted.

The lift dings and opens on their floor"Ah Look Thor who is here "Natasha elbows him Thor looks at Y/N and stops talking. He stumbles on his words when he tries to greet her. And everyone laughs at him. Thor still looks at her while she is going towards her desk."You know Y/N Thor still has a crush on you" Loki whispers near her ear. "Yeah I know" she smiles at him."So when will you say to him....?he asks her "What....what will I say to him?" "AH, Y/N I know even you like him" Wanda slides near her "God you both stop it I don't like him he is my friend my overprotective friend #1, and then Nat who is #2 friend," she says to them and starts to work "And you two the supportive one" with a smile on her face. The trio looks at each other smiles and starts to work.

After an hour 

Happy storms into the floor and starts calling Y/N's name. She looks at him and asks" What happened Happy? Look at this someone sent you a flower bouquet and quotes his finger "Your secret admirer" She takes the bouquet and looks at it. There is a small note attached to everyone gathering near her She takes the notes and reads it.

"You look amazing in your suit today Please stay away from them and I am soon gonna get you soon"~Yours Love

"Who is this guy seriously and Y/N I told you to complain to the cops," Natasha says crossing her arms over her chest getting irritated This started happening two months ago when someone sent Y/N secret messages either in her home or in the office

"Don't you think Nat I did it and we'll do the cops care ever." she looks at four of her friends who just stare at her Thor is about to say something But Y/N interrupts him "See guys I like how you care for me but Don't worry I will take care of myself and plus point you people are here too"

But soon she hears another voice. It was Mr.Stark and his assistant Miss Potts."What happened over here why is everyone gathered over here" Pepper looks at the bouquet and frowns at me "Is that...?" Yeah, it is she sighs at them" Guys look I have complained to them they are looking over it, and don't worry I can take care of myself." Both Wanda and Loki look at each other and at her with questioning looks. Thor starts to speak up "Y/N if you need help I will drop you" It's okay Thor" She looks at Thor and then at Nat "Nat please I can care for myself if there is any problem I will call you four okay?" "You heard her now all of you get back to work now," Tony says waving his hand over and looking over at her "But seriously Y/N this is seriously a problem should send you my car with Happy" "It's fine sir" and looks at them Pepper looks concerned at her" I am serious Pep I can walk with no fear and you know I  will meet Maria on the way from my home"

They both nod at her and Tony asks her you are coming to the party right? "Yes I am " she smiles at him and he nods at her and walks away "Okay Y/N did you complete the stats I gave you," Pepper asks her "Yes I have Pep here are these files" Thank you, and please be careful Y/N," Pepper says and walks away. "Yes I will Pep"

At the canteen

"I am worried for her," Wanda says to her Nat looks at her and nods "Yeah me too" The brother arrives "Where is Y/N Loki," Wanda asks the boys.

"Well, she is having some work so she won't join us for now," Loki says handing their orders to them.

"I just don't know anything if anything happens to her I am gonna kill the man," Thor says angrily.

"Thor relax we don't even know who is Person that is sending her those weird gifts," Nat says " Well I told her to complain to the cop but oh God does she listen"

"Well, she told them what are the cops doing Nat?" Loki asks her cocking his eyebrow at her

"Well I have told Bruce," she says shaking her head.

"But wait isn't Bruce in the Forensic department," Wanda asks her

"Well he is but he works under someone they led a team basically and he is trying to convince the Man or whoever that is, "Nat says finishing her burger.

"Oh, I wish I could accompany her but I have plans with Vis."Wanda sighed shaking her head

"Well Thor and Loki you could go with her" Natasha Looked at them

"Well Father called me a minute ago saying we have some family meeting" Loki said rolling his eyes Thor looked at him in disbelief and said

"Well let's ditch this and be with Y/N" Loki shakes his head

"But it's something important Thor and we need to attend it"

"Well, I guess she needs to be careful then." Nat sighs leaving them

IN THE EVENING

Steve stood on the opposite side of the road waiting for her. He knew she came out at this time to go to her home he also knew he home was very far away and later she went along with a lady. He saw her coming out with her friends but didn't see the bouquet he frowns at them. Of course, she threw them away but that didn't stop him and smirked knowing what to do

"So I will see you guys tomorrow then at the party. Aren't you coming?"Y/N asks looking at the brothers

"I am sorry darling but we are having an important family meeting" We wish could come "Thor looks at her giving her a sad smile

"Oh no worries the meeting is more important actually for you two bye guys Bye Wanda Bye Nat You guys are coming  for the party,"  she asks the girls

"Yes we are," both  girls say in chorus

"Be safe  Y/N," Natasha says and starts to walk away along with Wanda She says her goodbye to the brothers Both Thor and Loki look concerned and then walk away

She could feel a pair of eyes looking at her but whenever she turned back there was no one. Steve could feel that she was doubting that someone was following her but he couldn't come in front of her or else she could get scared. He stops there suddenly squinting his eyes she is the other lady and Y/N walks along with her to go home.

"So how was today in the office," Maria asks her taking hold of her hand. Uh, it was great today but the secret lover still sent me the bouquet today" Y/N says Maria stops for a moment and looks up at her

"Again Y/N aren't you scared I am scared" While she turns to look around He hides again from her

"And I have been saying to everyone I can defend myself." They talk for an hour and stop near her house

"Here's your house," Maria says giving her a curt

"Thanks, Maria I don't know what I would do without you," Y/N says giving her a hug with that Maria leaves and starts walking alone.

"Hey, Mr.Barton" Y/N shakes her hand towards her neighbor Clint looks up at her and smiles giving her a nod. She gets in the house and locks the door. Steve sighs and just stands near her house looking at the top he knows what he wants he gets it and with that, he starts walking again smirking at himself 'It's time to take you home sweetheart thinking in his mind

"Hey May, hey Peter she greets her brother and her aunt.

"Hey," they both say together

"Did you guys eat? "Y/N asks her taking a plate from the kitchen drawer and taking the food that May had prepared

"Yes, we have" May looks at her

"And what about you Pete?

"Yeah, I have." Y/N takes her seat on the chair and begins to eat.

"Well Y/N did you order something?" she looks at May in a confused manner.

"Well no" and continues eating

May glances at Peter "It's a party dress Y/N and you have a party tomorrow Maybe I thought you ordered it cause the other day you were saying you didn't have one.So I thought you ordered one" Y/N drops the spoon and runs towards her room both May and Peter following her

"Oh God today he sent me a bouquet and now this"soon she realizes it was her so-called secret admirer.

"There is also a note in it Y/N," Peter says picking up the paper and giving it to her

'Yeah I know you don't have anything for your party so please wear it tomorrow it's a request think about it as God sent you his gift and I am soon coming for you' ~Your Love truly 

[swan-of-sunrise]

Hawkeye (Part I)

Summary: Six days before Christmas, a four-month pregnant (Y/N) accompanies Sam and Bucky to a performance of Rogers: The Musical while Steve and Carina stay home, and any hope of a quiet Christmas for the growing Rogers-(Y/L/N) family is dashed when the married couple catches a shocking news report that threatens to expose their friend as the world’s most prolific vigilante.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there and welcome to the 4-part series centering around Hawkeye and the Christmas of 2024! This is such an underrated and underappreciated show, and I always knew that I wanted to write (Y/N), Steve and their growing family into it (and give a little extra love to Clint, ‘cause he deserves it!). This’ll be very faithful to the show, but expect a few surprises along the way lol thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part I) December 19th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous One-Shot)

With Christmas only a week away, the Rogers-(Y/L/N) house was filled to the brim with festive cheer. Their beautifully adorned tree stood tall in the living room beside their grand piano and throughout the rest of the house, they’d set out their plethora of holiday decorations; thanks to Steve’s growing proficiency at baking, the air was laced with the mouthwatering aroma of peppermint, gingerbread and vanilla. The only thing that could improve their cheerful home was the laughter of close friends inspired by the greatly anticipated opening of Broadway’s newest hit show, Rogers: The Musical.

“I’m tellin’ you, Steve, you missed out on one hell of a show!” Sam twisted the cap off his beer and smirked as he took a long sip. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but watchin’ these two trying their damndest to keep their cool was way more entertaining than watchin’ Nick Fury sing.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her best friend’s exaggeration, taking off her jewelry piece by piece and looking through the living room mirror that she was stood before at her highly-amused husband seated behind her. “Don’t listen to Birdbrain, sweetheart, he’s embellishing the truth yet again; as long as you ignore all the blatant historical inaccuracies, it’s a perfectly enjoyable musical.”

“That’s easy for you to say, doll, they didn’t have you doin’ a corny tap dance number to somehow symbolize the hell of war,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, still miffed by his out-of-character portrayal in the musical and Sam’s overly-enthusiastic reaction whenever ‘Sergeant Bucky Barnes’ had appeared onstage to sing or dance. “Trust me, buddy, you saved yourself a whole heap of annoyance and justifiable indignation by staying home.”

“Well, I figured that my brief brush with showbiz back in ’43 was plenty enough for one lifetime,” Steve replied with a grin, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he got up from the couch and crossed the living room to help (Y/N) undo the clasp of her necklace. “Even one as long as mine. But hey, I had a stack of unfinished sketches and my little angel to keep me company here at home, and I didn’t have to watch the guy playing me sing a power ballad to a giant poster of Uncle Sam.”

When the necklace’s chain loosened, (Y/N) turned around and pressed her lips against her husband’s in a brief but sweet kiss of thanks. “I should count myself lucky; the rest of the world has to buy a ticket to a hit Broadway show to hear Steve Rogers belt out a power ballad, but all I have to do is listen in on him whenever he takes a shower.”

Sam and Bucky laughed at that and after a chuckling Steve retaliated by tickling the sensitive skin of her neck and stealing another kiss from her, (Y/N) headed upstairs to change out of her black cocktail dress and into her pajamas. She breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked off her black kitten heels and after peeling off her dress, she hung it over the back of her vanity’s chair and smoothed a hand over the satin slip that covered the slight swell of her four-month-pregnant belly. “Thanks for being so cooperative in there tonight, gumball. I had a really fun time with your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Bucky.”

Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s second pregnancy was almost the polar opposite of her first; where she hadn’t begun to show until her second trimester and she never once experienced morning sickness, she was already transitioning into maternity wear and she’d been plagued with intense nausea for over a month straight that was only just beginning to ease up. Their night on the town served as both an enjoyable evening with friends at a so-bad-it’s-good musical adaptation of her husband’s life, and a test to see how well she’d do during her latest book promotion tour in January.

It seemed as though she’d be able to physically handle all the interviews, press conferences and book signing, but she was still working on preparing herself mentally to discuss the chapter of her life that had brought her the greatest joys and largest despairs. While Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers was the definitive chronicle of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, it wasn’t quite as unabridged as one would expect; the remaining Avengers had agreed on what details should be kept from the public – namely, their utilization of Pym Particles to achieve time travel, the entirety of the time heist and Clint’s five-year-long stint as the vengeful Ronin – so not only would she be tasked with discussing the deaths of her friends and allies, she’d also have to carefully work to keep those certain details a secret. Not an easy feat when you’re already experiencing pregnancy brain, she thought to herself with an inward sigh, slipping into her satin nightgown and tugging her robe on as she crept across the hall into Carina’s dimly-lit nursery.

Predictably, her fifteen-month old daughter was fast asleep in her crib, curled up under her colorful Wakandan-made blanket and clutching her stuffed white wolf; Indy, their senior German Shepard rescue, was nestled in his dog bed at the foot of the crib and when (Y/N) quietly entered, his head snapped up at attention but he immediately relaxed when she scratched behind his ears and the thick fur of his neck. Once their protective family dog was placated with scratches, she leaned over the crib and took a moment to observe her peaceful daughter; as energetic as the half super-soldier was throughout the day, she absolutely loved to sleep and hardly ever complained when they put her down for her two daily naps. Greg and Mara warned her that her daughter’s mild-mannered attitude could always fade away once she entered her ‘Terrible Two’s,’ but (Y/N) had a gut-feeling that Carina’s early adventures through space and all the battles against un-dead Asgardians and Thanos’ bloodthirsty army that she’d been present for gave her a resilience that most grown adults would never come to possess.

“Sweet dreams, my little lemon drop,” (Y/N) murmured, her fingers gently brushing her (Y/H/C) locks out of her face before she leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto her forehead. “I love you.”

After tucking the blanket around her daughter’s sleeping form, (Y/N) gave her one last smile and turned away from her crib, unsurprised to see Steve leaning against the nursery’s door frame with a content smile playing on his lips. “Sam and Buck already turned in for the night, so I thought I’d check in and see how my three lovely ladies were doing.”

“Two, sweetheart; you know as well as I do that we haven’t found out the sex of the baby yet.” She quietly closed the nursery door and looked at her husband with playful suspicion as they strolled hand-in-hand into their bedroom. “Unless you called up Dr. Prince behind my back.”

“Nope, just some good old-fashioned fatherly intuition.” Steve chuckled, bending down to press a kiss onto her small bump before they went about getting ready for bed, with him changing into his pajamas while she removed her makeup and applied her nighttime skincare in their room’s adjoining bathroom. “The guys mentioned that Barton and his kids were there, too.”

(Y/N)’s fingers momentarily stopped massaging moisturizer into the skin of her face as she recalled the grief etched into the archer’s face when Natasha’s character first twirled onto the stage. “Yeah, they were kicking off their Barton Family Christmas with a little trip to the city to see the show. They left about halfway through; Clint texted me later saying that it was because the kids were a little restless and they wanted to go out for Chinese food before it got too late, but…but I think it had something to do with Nat.”

Steve sighed but remained silent; when (Y/N) finished her nighttime routine and walked back into the bedroom, he was already sitting on his side of the bed with a downcast expression on his face. “He still blames himself for what happened on Vormir.”

“I think so, but I also think he knows that nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped Nat from making that call…” With a sad sort of smile, she slipped out of her robe and climbed into bed beside her husband, adjusting the comforter over their laps and meeting his saddened azure eyes. “Most of all, I think he just misses her.” And I know exactly how he feels, she thought to herself as her throat burned and she tried her hardest not to imagine the faces of those she still grieved over.

Not a day went by when (Y/N) didn’t think about all the friends they’d lost over the past several years: Tony, Natasha, Vision, Loki and most recently, T’Challa; just as suddenly as they’d lost their four friends and teammates in the battle against Thanos, the King of Wakanda had passed away after a private battle with illness over two months ago. It seemed that with each blessing that appeared in their life, there was an equally devastating blow waiting just around the corner for them and as each one was dealt, (Y/N) started to truly comprehend the all-consuming grief that had followed Clint like a shadow since Thanos’ Snap in 2018.

Being with Steve and Carina and knowing that there was a new baby on the way certainly helped, as did sharing memories of those they’d lost with her husband and their two best friends and focusing her attention on her upcoming book tour. Steve, understanding all too well the emotions that were brewing within her, brought a hand up to cradle her cheek and drew his thumb across her cheekbone as his eyes softened with empathy. “When Cari dumped her entire bowl of spaghetti onto her head the other night and we had to give her an emergency bath, one of the first things that went through my mind was that Nat would get a kick out of hearing that story. It took me a second to remember that she…” Steve’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly before continuing. “I’ve fought gods and monsters, I’ve traveled through space and time and I’ve lived long enough to believe that in this universe, anything is possible. She knows, sunshine…they all do.”

With tears in her eyes, (Y/N) let out a watery laugh and accepted the tissue that he offered her. “You sure you’re not the New York Times best-selling author in this family?”

“Nah, it’s just easier to land an emotional speech when your wife’s hormones are constantly being thrown for a loop by a four month old fetus,” Steve replied with a lopsided grin while she shook her head in playful exasperation and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. “We should probably get some sleep; Sam and Buck have an early flight to New Orleans tomorrow, and we’ve still gotta take Cari to the mall for her picture with Santa.”

(Y/N), recalling her best friend Greg and his wife Mara’s many horror stories of taking their little Abbie to see Santa, bit her lip and replied, “Our daughter spent the first month of her life surrounded by Sakaarians, un-dead Asgardians and Chitauri soldiers, so I’m sure that a picture with a complete stranger dressed as Santa Claus’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Of course…” The longer her husband thought it over, though, the more hesitant he appeared. “But maybe we should pack her stuffed wolf just in case-?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Ever the true gentleman, Steve discarded her tissue for her and switched off their bedside lamp before burrowing under the bedcovers beside her, leaning over to brush his lips against her brow while she slipped her arm over his torso. “I also have to text Scott; when we were finishing up my interview for his book last week, he made me promise to give him a review of the musical. I think he wants to take Hope and Cassie when the touring company comes to San Francisco in the spring.”

Steve chuckled and carefully wound his arm around her to hold her closer. “He’ll be happy to know that they decided to add him to the Battle of New York. Speaking as one of the six people who was there, though, I’m not too sure what the presence of Ant-Man’s meant to add to one of Earth’s first alien invasions.”

“That’s the beauty of historical fiction: you can play fast and loose with dates, times and events for the sake of dramatic purposes while still portraying a person’s real-life story. In this case, adding one of the most popular Avengers to one of the most famous Avengers battles doesn’t change the fact that you – the main character – really were there.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted closed and she could feel her body relaxing against Steve’s as sleep began to take hold. “With that being said, I just know he’s never ever gonna stop talking about it…”

Their tired laughs were suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on their closed bedroom door and before either of them could say anything, the door opened and the light flickered on to reveal Sam and Bucky entering their room with matching frowns on their faces. “Sorry for barging in, guys, but you’re gonna wanna see this.” While Sam crossed over to retrieve the television remote from (Y/N)’s nightstand, she and Steve exchanged a look of confusion as they sat up and Bucky sat himself down on the edge of their bed as Sam switched their television on to NY1.

“…following a breaking news story, a high society gala rocked by an explosion when it went off at Park Avenue and 68th Street tonight. The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, but witnesses captured cell phone footage of a masked assailant fleeing the scene.” The news anchor’s face was replaced with an unsteady video of a bustling 68th Street; a masked figure dressed from head to toe in black vaulted over a speeding car and scooped a matted Golden Retriever up into their arms, both sliding out of the busy traffic just in the nick of time. The amateur footage paused on a close-up of the masked figure, and (Y/N)’s heart leapt into her throat when she recognized the imposing black and gold leather suit. “Authorities believe the assailant could be-”

“The Ronin,” (Y/N) breathed, and the implications of the infamous suit’s reappearance were not lost on her or the other three men in the room.

“-Who once terrorized organized crime here in New York and around the world for five brutal years. This is the first potential sighting of the Ronin in years, and his identity continues to remain a mystery to this day. We will continue to follow this breaking news story and report on any developments as they come in-”

Sam muted the television and turned to face them with a troubled expression written across his face. “That sure as hell wasn’t Barton in that video.”

“Which means one of two possibilities: either somebody with a sick sense of humor’s running around New York in a handmade Ronin suit and playing out their little fantasy of being a vigilante…” The fingers of Bucky’s vibranium hand traced along the raised lettering of his old dog tags as his brows furrowed, his earlier pleasant mood long gone and replaced with a dark trepidation. “Or someone found the real suit in the wreckage of the Avengers Facility.”

His features drawn with a solemnity reminiscent of his days as Captain America, Steve carded his hand through his rumpled blonde hair and stared at the muted footage of the imposter. “Either way, Barton and his kids are in danger; if they manage to find out the Ronin’s true identity, then every single member of the city’s criminal underworld is gonna go after him for revenge.”

(Y/N) let out a weary sigh and reached for her cell phone that was charging on her nightstand. “So much for that Barton Family Christmas…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: And there you have it! How do you think the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family will fit into this show? What're the surprises that are gonna pop up? I guess you'll have to tune in for the rest of the chapters to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Hawkeye (Part II)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​ @momc95​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​ @username23345@crist1216​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​ @groovyqueer​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​  

[first-edition]

Sunday Love

“Southern belle”Reader x Cowboy! Bucky

(Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors)

Sum- You‘re back home visiting your mother and sister only to be introduced to your sisters fiancé and his best friend, who just happens to be town heartthrob.

CW- fluff, Fem reader, talk of scars, hint of alcohol consumption, eventual smut, p-in-v Unprotected, breeding kink if you squint, kissing, pet names, profanity. Blood, anger, cussing

“There she is!!” Your mother runs Down the stairs of the porch pulling you into a hug.

“Mama!” You smile hugging her back. The sweet smell of fresh backed pie wafting through your noise as she squeezes you.

“How’s the big city treating you darlin?” She asks excitedly. Evened since you moved out of the house you’ve lived in Vegas you barley have time to visit your family all the way back in south of Montana.

“Loud. Im uh im actually thinking about moving back here but I know yet.” You reply she smiles even wider pulling back from you.

“Where’s peg?” You ask.

“PEGGY GET OUT HERE!” You mother yells her thick southern accent drowning the noise of your car engine still running. Your bright red headed sister comes running outta the house her hand entwined with someone else’s. A tall blonde man who wears cowboy boots, washed out blue jeans with a brown belt, a white tshirt that has an American flag stitched to the shoulder sleeve.

“Y/n!” Peggy let’s go of the man to hug you. You hug her back but your eyes never leave the man in front of you.

“Hi Peg.” You reply slightly less happy than before.

“How’s the big city treat’n you.” She asks.

“Mmhm great Peg who’s this?” You ask crossing your arms and leaning against your car. A red catallac

“Oh come on y/n stop that.” She pulled your arms apart.

“Pleausre to meet you, my name is steve rogers your sister has told me mighty fine things about you.” He says. You eye him up and down as he reaches out a hand. You shake his hand a strong grip on him.

“Y/n…steve and I are engaged…were getting married.“ a huge smile embarks on her face you raise your eye brows.

“O-oh..” you say nearly choking on your own breath.

“I meant to call you but with all the wedding preparations and stuff it’s been a lot.” She says. Your eye catches someone else exiting your childhood home.

Your mother seems to take notice to your aversion and sees bucky standing on the porch.

“OH y/n You remember bucky? Dont you?” She says bringing him down the porch he keeps his hands tucked in his pockets. The dark leather cowboy hat sitting low on his head barley covering bright ocean eyes.

“James barnes.” You say

“Doll. Its nice to see you again” he says a small smile follows your face as he remembered the nick name. You walk up to poking his chest above the black T-shirt he wears.

“Last time I saw you, You were half my size and fat.” You giggle.

“Hmm last I saw you, you was mean and would steal liquor outta mr l/ns stash.” He chuckles. You gasp slapping his arm. Only leaving him with a chuckle.

“I gotta run sugar but I hope to see you tonight?” Steve says to your sister.

“Yeah of course!” She smiles smitten as they share a kiss you avert your eyes in disgust.

“Y/n you should join us tonight bucks holding a party at his ranch tonight.” Steve says.

“Mm you know im kinda tired jet lag and all so i-“

“Youre coming missy, now turn off your engine and bring those bags inside. Bucky be a sweetheart and help now would yah?” Your mom says with out hesitation he nods and grabs the suit case next to you.

“Oh becarful that super-..” you stand a bit stunned as he easily picks it up no grunts or hesitation.

“Heavy.” You finish as he turns and walks inside. You turn to your sister.

“W h a t?” You mouth. She giggles.

————

The loudness of music and people yelling and laughing fill your ears. You walk around seeing kids running with cotton candy, and lemonade.

“Y/n!?” Your sister yells your name. You look over seeing her with steve.

Walking over to them you sigh.

“Hey.”

“You made it!” She smiles giving you a quick hug.

“So..what is this?” You ask.

“Buckys dad passed a way last year and he gave him the ranch and bull ring. He fixed the place up a bit and it’s more of a grand reopening.” Peggy smiles.

“Oh I didn’t know that.” You say she nods.

“Y’all having fun?” Buckys voice speaks from behind you a large smile forming on Peggy’s face.

“Absolutely my little sister just got here too!” She says.

“Im 6 months older than you.” You snidley comment.

“Bucky. Why dont you show y/n around hm?” Steve says.

“Uh yeah. You want a tour?” He asks.

“Yeah sure.” You say. Peggy giggles as you walk off with bucky.

He shows you the bullpen, the horses, the dance floor where everyone is, where the food and drinks are, and finally the mechanical bull where you see your sister riding and screaming.

You notice the entire time hes showing you around he’s stopped by girls, being asked to dance and given a few free drinks which he dosnt take.

You both take a seat at an empty table acrcross from each other. Buck sips on a beer.

“So. Why are you back in town?” He asks

“Mama wanted me to visit so here I am. And might I say I did not expect you of all people to keep getting stopped like that.” You chuckle.

“Ah yeah. Apparently if you loose your arm go through trauma and loose weight the girls of the town go crazy for you.” He says

“Dark horse type then?” You say he nods chuckling. Before starting up the conversation again a girl comes over placing her hand on his shoulder she’s red headed in black jeans and cropped white shirt.

“Bucky wanna dance with me the shuffles gonna be on.” She says

“No. No thanks nat.”

“You promised me a dance last year.” She smiles

“Yeah well we didn’t have a party last year did we?” Bucky says annoyed.

“James ple-“ she starts

“Don’t call me that and get lo-“ he begin only for you to cut him off

“James.”

He looks at you.

Nat takes her hand off him he relaxes.

“Wanna show me the barn? I’d um…I’d like to see the pigs.” You say he huffs and nods getting up to full height towering over nat.

“Come on doll.” He say leaving his beer. You get up as well he holds out his hand to you you glance back at the girl her friends now gathering. You take it in yours following him out.

———-

Bucky leans against the barn wall arms crossed making him look larger than before.

“So pigs? We don’t got pigs.” He says you giggle and nod.

“I know. It’s just. You looked awfully uncomfortable with her you know her well?” You ask he nods in reply as you look down kicking around a loose rock.

“We dated for 2 months after my dad passed. She’s a real….Real, peice of work.” He says taking his hat off about to hang it up on the side while running his fingers through his hair.

“Can I see?” You ask seeing his hat holding out ur hands.

“Mm” he replies handing it to you see the scores black leather with a metal peice around the base. You put it on and it dosnt sit quite right as his head is bigger that urs.

“Howdy.” You say lowering your voice tucking your thumb into you pocket to mimic Bucky. He chuckles rolling his eyes.

“The names Bucky doll im the town heart throb and I’m super strong and ignore everyone except y/n.” He chuckles standing up from his relaxed posture.

“I ain’t gonna dance shuffle with no girl becuase I’m a dark horse. Ooh!” You mimic before almost falling but he catches you keeping you up. Chest to chest.

He tilts the hat up to see ur eyes.

“Th-thanks.” You say his blue eyes boring holes into you.

The space between you closes with his lips on yours. Before he can pull away again you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer to your he inhales as his arms pull you in by your waist.

Walking you back. Your back hits the wall of the barn as his hands explore your waist. You hands find his hair pulling gently at the locks leaving a grunt to leave his lips.

“BUCKY!?” You hear someone fainting yelling his name. You can feel the frown on his face before he pulls away.

“BUCK!?” The voice gets closer printing him to pull away. And turn his head to see Steve running into veiw drenched in something.

“SHES GON WILDE NAT IS DESTROYING THE BAR.” He exclaims Bucky immediately leaves you and his hat and rushes out with Steve.

Running into the back nat is holding a crow bar smashing it across the bar table and legs causing beer and glass to spill everywhere. People run out others try to stop her. Slipping in liquid or almost getting hit by the winging crowbar.

“NATASHA! STOP!” Bucky yells at her.

You run in seeing her destroying everything bucks dad had worked for. She picks up a chair throwing it at bottle cabinet making everything fall and crash to the floor.

She turns rage filling her only to se you wearing buckys hat.

She grabs a bottle and chucks it at you you shield your self with your arms which the bottle smashes against casing you to fall.

“THATS ENOUGH!” Bucky says grabbing the swinging crowbar in his left hand the metal against the crowbar ringing when it hits his hand. With his other he grips nat by her hair pulling her to the entry of the bar the crowbar in his o th we hand as she squeals in pain by his grip. The Barr doors open revealing four police men who were called erlier

They immediately take her from Buck in hand cuffs dragging her out screaming he drops the crowbar and hurries to you where your sister and Steve already are.

“F-fuck.” You whine as blood pours from your arm shards of glass sticking out of it.

PART 2

[bigbadripley]

hi could you do one where reader and steve are together and some kind of multiversal rift happens that causes captain carter to show up and reader starts to pine for peggy as well as steve, and steve obv still has a thing for the peggy he knew, and peggy still has a thing for the steve she knew, but also reader, so they do a threesome k thanks bye

Moments Stolen Taste Better

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader x Captain!Peggy Carter | 18+ Minors DNI!!  ⚠️

Warnings: Dom!Steve and Dom!Peggy, mention of stillbirth (idk it just gets brought up in the plot), reader has a mombod (we love it), voyeurism, thoughts of cheating, threesome, unprotected p in v

Words: 3.4K Words

Title based on "Used" by SZA ft. Don Toliver

A/N:  You are responsible for your own consumption. DL;DR. As always, if you find anything that needs to have a warning or I mislabeled something, please let me know~

"Babe? Have you seen my screw box?" You yelled through the house. After looking through the garage and not finding the Altoid tin where you kept your oddball screws, it was time to face that your boyfriend likely took it. "Babe!" You yelled out once more, not getting a response the first time. 

As you entered the kitchen, you saw him quickly chewing a bite of the sandwich he held, leaning against the countertop comfortably. You saved for a moment, waiting for him to swallow before he could respond.

"Should be in the n-" Steve cut himself off, "-Second room." He corrected. He knew you told him already that he could call it the nursery and that it wasn't some word that shouldn't be spoken. It was the second room until you got pregnant, then the nursery. Since the pregnancy failure, it's become a dusty baby furniture storage room.

It had been months, and you and Steve had time to heal from it, but he still tended to call the room by its former name. At first, it hurt, but now it doesn't, and Steve still corrects himself when he catches it. You began to wonder if he was doing it for your sake or his. 

You enter the small, pale yellow room and avoid looking directly at the bassinet, which makes your heart ache. Steve was correct: the screw box was on the changing station. As you pick it up, memories of decorating the room flood your mind, causing you to turn around and immediately exit, closing the door behind you. 

Gotta sort that out one day. You thought. Today is not that day. 

Before you go back through the garage door, you hear a crashing sound and smell something burning from the other side. Thinking it might have been a small battery explosion, you rush through the door to grab the fire extinguisher to the right. 

Beyond the smokiness, there was no fire or sparks but a figure on the ground. You weren't sure how they got there or who they were, but your first instinct was to put the extinguisher back and rush to see if they were okay. You were able to make out long dark hair, red lips, and-

It's a woman! You thought.

"Steve!" You yelled out in a panic, trying to get his help to pick up the unconscious woman. The blanket of fog began to disperse little by little, and you started to recognize her as-

"Peggy?" Steve said as soon as he spotted her. The girl he keeps in his compass. The one he left behind when he went in the ice. The only problem was that he never mentioned how tall and strong she looked.

Steve took one arm, and you attempted to grab the other before he picked her up entirely to bring her into the house. Given your size, you likely would not have been of much assistance anyway in lifting her.

Once Peggy was on the couch, you could get a better look at her. She was even more captivating than the photo you knew her from, and even more, interestingly, she wore a suit that was a near-replica of Steve's, the only exception being the Union Jack over the chest. 

"This isn't the same Peggy I knew," Steve piped up, crossing his arms. He seemed suspicious of her, but you felt the need to help regardless. You rushed to get a cold washcloth and placed it on her sleeping forehead, figuring the cooling would prompt her awake quicker after whatever tumble she took. 

Sure enough, after staying next to her for nearly ten minutes, Peggy began to wake. Her big brown eyes darted around the room before landing on you, filling with confusion. 

"Where am I?" She asked, sitting up and letting the rag fall from her head to the floor. Her accent floated through the air as her heavy boots clunked when she dropped them from the couch. You told her your name and explained that you found her in your garage, and she listened like it wasn't as strange to her as it was to you. "So, what Earth am I on?" She asked nonchalantly. You raised your eyebrows,

"Uh... I didn't realize they were classified in any way. I know someone I can ask who may know, but-"

"Strange is busy. I already spoke to him on the phone." Steven interrupted you as he walked back in from the garage. The second Peggy spotted him, she was awestruck, flicking her eyes up and down his form. 

"Oh, you're not my Steve." She said. You gathered that the Steve she knew was likely much smaller, and given her reaction, you couldn't help but feel a bit jealous, but couldn't tell if you were more jealous of her or Steve. You watched her gaze return to you, then to Steve, as the gears turned in her head until she connected the dots. "I suppose he'd be your Steve, yeah?"

"Well, yes, he is." You answered, trying not to say it awkwardly. You were not a stranger to being attracted to women, but since you and Steve got together, your eyes never strayed. 

Until you met Peggy Carter. 

"It was Stephen Strange that I needed to see." Peggy circled back to the previous topic. "But even if he could help me, my Travelmaster seems to be broken." 

You realized she was talking about the device on her wrist that looked like a smartwatch. The face of it was cracked and chipped, likely from whatever knocked her into your garage. "Can I see?" You asked, holding your hand out. 

Peggy nodded and took the device off, placing it into your hand. Your fingers grazed hers in a cheesy rom-com fashion, and you felt electricity for a moment, which could have been the Travelmaster. You examined it momentarily, realizing it would be a piece of cake to fix. "I can take care of this thing, but it may take a few days."

"That would be lovely!" Peggy exclaimed, more hopeful now that you could be of assistance. Her joy made your heart nearly collapse, and you sat the device on your knee to discretely wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. 

After a bit of back and forth about where Peggy came from, how she got here, and how in her timeline, she was the one who took the serum, thus becoming Captain Carter, you offered her a place to stay while you fixed her Travelmaster, and she accepted. 

The first day with your new guest was interesting, to say the least. You gave her some of your more loose-fitting clothes to wear to account for her larger build, and even then, they were still a bit tight on her. You weren't complaining as you silently enjoyed the view of Peggy in your sweatpants and Iron Maiden t-shirt that wasn't cropped on you but exposed a bit of midriff on her.

It's like if I let Jen wear my clothes, and then she hulked out. You thought upon seeing her in them. Only Jennifer was your best friend, and you weren't attracted to her like you were to Peggy. 

The biting jealousy came when she and Steve talked about the similarities in their times. They sipped coffee and laughed as you listened in, trying not to blatantly eavesdrop and being unable to help yourself. 

"The Travelmaster probably brought me here because I was thinking about how it must be fixed right before it shorted out," Peggy said. You stood and poked your head through the doorway, 

"Why would it take you here if that were the case?"

"Because you invented it in my time." She said, glancing at you as the cup made it to her perfect lips. God, how you envied that ceramic mug before what she said registered in your mind. You were an inventor, having been under the wing of Tony for some time, but you never invented anything as insane as a multiversal travel device. 

"I'm not surprised. My gal's a genius." Steve spoke up, mentioning you like you weren't there purposely and speaking to Peggy as if she were an old poker buddy. His eyes drifted over to where you were, and you passed him a wink that was more telling than anything you would have been able to say then. 

Oh yeah, he's getting his dick sucked later. You thought before your mind pictured it, but instead of you doing it, you pictured Peggy doing it. The visual caused the jealousy to linger again, and even worse, you had to adjust in your rolly chair at how aroused it made you. 

"Shit." You whispered, pinching the bridge of your nose at how absurd the thought was. It simply wouldn't work. 

Another day passed, and the atmosphere between you and Peggy was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You couldn't tell if it was just you or if Peggy felt the same and decided to hide it out of respect. On the flip side, you knew Steve was also delighted to have her around. 

The night before, Steve had you bent over the footboard of your bed, and your thoughts began to linger again. You loved your man, and he never failed to get you off, but when the image of looking back and seeing Peggy railing you with a strap-on popped into your head, you came harder and faster than you had in a long time.

It was challenging to look at her after that shameful thought. You could tell she noticed your awkwardness, and this frightened you. 

I got the hots for the woman sleeping on my fucking couch. What a nightmare. 

When you saw Peggy in the hallway on your way out of the bathroom, you tried to pass her by without yielding until she spoke to you first. 

"What's that room used for?" She asked, pointing to the room you avoided. 

"Uh, that was the nursery." You admitted, rocking back and forth on your heels. 

"Nursery? I-" She stopped herself, realizing the lack of children and the look on your face.

Probably noticed the extra baby weight and nothing to show for it, too. You thought before she picked her sentence up again. 

 "Oh, dear lord, I'm so sorry. How far along were you, if you don't mind?"

"Seven months. It's fine, really. Some things happen for a reason, you know?" You replied, trying to brush it off. Peggy pursed her lips and cocked her head,

"I guess that's also a good way to look at my being here."

"Look, I know this must be really strange, seeing Steve and..." You trail off, not sure where you're going with this, yourself. You just wanted to open a dialogue and hopefully make yourself feel less nuts. Peggy let out a small laugh,

"Believe me, it has been bizarre, but it's not what you think. If my Steve came out of the war to find someone like you, he's one lucky son of a gun." 

You stood paralyzed as the words floated through the air. Peggy looked down at you the way she usually did, causing your heart to thump as adrenaline washed over you. She was incredible, and her words only amplified your desire for her. 

"Fucking hell." You gasp as you finally catch your breath. The words fell out clumsily, and Peggy eyed you with confusion. 

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just losing my mind at how perfect you are." You admit, then immediately regret the words as her eyes widen at you. "Shit, I'm sorry." 

"You know, I've been quite irresponsible since my arrival. I neglected to tell you," Peggy started, stepping forward slowly. Her movements felt like a magnetic repulsion, causing you to back up as she approached until your shoulders and butt met the cold wall behind you. "I've watched you get involved with people who have no idea how to treat you, time and time again."

Your breath hitched as your back hugged the wall tighter, stuck between it and the buff woman pressed to your chest. "Fucking hell." You repeated the same way you said before, convinced you would die if she were any closer. The right corner of her mouth curled up at your breathlessness, toying with you. 

"Though I'm happy that you found Steve in this life," She leaned her face closer to yours, almost close enough to brush noses. "I still can't forget the sounds you make."

A small, pathetic whimper escapes your throat, betraying you as you feel yourself receding into the drywall. 

"Sounds like that, actually." She whispered. Her dark hair covered your peripheral vision, making her brown eyes the only thing you could focus on. You were in agony, realizing she was telling you that, in her time, she fucked you. Your mind raced through how it went, what she tasted like, how her tongue felt on your pussy. 

You felt hot and flustered. Having been with Steve for so long, you forgot what being pursued by someone new was like. There were so many things you wanted to say and do, but you felt like you were glued where you stood and couldn't find enough oxygen to speak appropriately. It felt like Peggy wanted to break you. 

As if the universe was trying to tell you to get out of that hold Peggy had you in, you heard the front door open, and footsteps proceeded through it. "How does macaroni casserole sound for dinner?" Steve called out as he entered. 

"Fucking hell." You groaned quietly with frustration from being cut off. Peggy loosed the distance between you for you to slip out and get to Steve. As soon as you turned the corner to the kitchen, where he was putting away the groceries, guilt washed over you. The thought of cheating on him was devastating, yet you had been doing it in your head for days now. "Mac casserole? Sounds good, baby." You finally answered his question as you came up and wrapped your arms around him from behind. 

You assisted with putting the food away and scampered off to the shower, hoping to rinse out the feeling of Peggy being pushed against you. All that was accomplished was more racing thoughts in the steam that caused you to turn on the high-pressure stream setting on the shower head and let the water rush against your clit, imagining it was her mouth. 

I still can't forget the sounds you make.

Her voice had a vice grip on your brain, repeatedly replaying like a Jedi mind trick. Your muscles jerked as the water drew an intense orgasm from you that nearly knocked you to the shower floor. A single high-pitched sigh punched from your gut as you heard the bathroom door open. 

"Did you trip?" Steve asked, responding to the thumping of your hands and feet and the sound you made. In a panic, you found it hard to lie on the spot. 

"No, I... uh..." You choked, slowly bringing the showerhead back up to the metal arm that held it over your head. Beyond the frosted glass that separated the rest of the bathroom from the tub, you could make out Steve's shape and the color of his hair, skin, and shirt, but no details. You did, however, hear a faint chuckle. 

"Playing with yourself in the shower is dangerous, baby. Why don't you come out, and I'll take care of you." He said, blurry form growing closer to the glass. It drives you insane when he talks like that. 

Yet, you imagined Peggy saying it to you also, English accent, nearly knocking you off balance again. You felt like an addict, looking for a fix for something you've never had before. 

You could see him more detailed beyond the glass now, but you could make out something else just behind him now. Another tall and wide stature, long, dark hair. Before you could respond, Steve pulled the door open to reveal himself and Peggy, who leaned against the bathroom wall and admired your drenched nakedness. You didn't bother hiding from either of them as the woman parted her lips to speak.

"Dry off and meet us in the bedroom. The three of us need to have a chat." 

Once sufficiently dried off, you exited the bathroom with the towel wrapped around you, tucked under your arms like a terry cloth dress. You felt indescribably anxious and fearful of what they might have discussed to cause this meeting.

Steve and Peggy stood with their arms crossed on either side of you, staring with amused faces. 

"Drop the towel and have a seat on the bed, baby," Steve said, gesturing to the mattress the two of you shared. Your eyes widened, and you immediately turned your attention to Peggy, then back to your boyfriend. 

"Steve, I-"

"Do as he says." Peggy interrupts in a much more commanding tone. Were you terrified? Yes. But her stern tone nearly caused your knees to buckle simultaneously. You allowed the towel to fall to your feet as you slowly and shakily took the few steps to the bed before pivoting and meeting your butt to the comforter. 

They eyed you up and down as they circled you like a couple of vultures. You had become a spectacle. 

"She's gorgeous, ain't she?" Steve asked Peggy, who nodded. 

"Quite. Her thighs and bum are a bit thicker than the one from my Earth, but I find it fetching." She replied, not pulling her gaze from you for even a second. Steve chortled at this,

"I tried to tell ya, my baby girl's special." 

"What exactly's going on here?" You finally speak weakly, your voice cracking as thick saliva pools in your throat. You gulp before Steve responds. 

"Peggy told me everything. How she slept with you in her time, the moment you had in the hallway earlier-"

"And we've decided that we would both have our way with you." Peggy finished his sentence perfectly. Your jaw dropped at the proposition, and you began to question if you really did fall in the shower and this was all some concussion dream. Either way, the ache and gathering wetness between your thighs felt real enough. "Lay back," Peggy said in the same commanding tone as before, prompting you to follow suit. 

As Steve lazed around to the other side of the bed, Peggy pulled your legs apart at your knees to get an eyeful of your dripping heat. "Such a pretty pussy." She complimented, nearly making you blush all over. It felt like you might pass out under them until Peggy inserted her thick middle finger into your entrance. Steve stood and watched with delight, palming himself over his jeans. 

"Tell her how tight she is. She loves that." He instructed, giving away your secrets. Her finger dipped in and out, grazing your soft spot with each curl of her knuckle, making you whine. 

"Very tight, darling. Mind if I have a taste?" Peggy asked, directing the question to Steve. He gestured to you with his free hand and nodded,

"Have at it. That pussy is sweet like honey."

You watched from downturned eyes as Peggy dropped to her knees and began lapping your clit right away, swirling her tongue over it like hard candy and humming with pleasure as involuntary noises left your lips. Your eyes began to roll upward and look at Steve, stroking his cock with one hand and caressing your head with the other. 

"You like how Peggy eats your pussy, baby girl?" He asked. "Tell me how it feels."

"Feel's good." You said breathlessly as her finger continued to pump into you while her mouth manipulated you closer to your climax. The view of Steve pleasuring himself while watching and talking to you was enough to push you over the edge. 

"Cum all over her fingers, baby. Go ahead." He growled, having you nearly trained to release at his will. Your ads tightened, and you arched your back off the mattress as satisfaction ripped through your veins. Peggy continued to fuck you with her fingers, prolonging your orgasm for as long as she could, causing you to cry out. 

"Tell Captain Rogers thank you for letting me lick your pussy." Peggy demanded as she got to her feet. 

"T-thank you, Steve." You stuttered, watching Peggy come to the side of the bed that he was on. 

"I'd say she's ready for you," Peggy informed Steve with a nod before he circled to the side of the bed you hung from. She started removing the too-tight track pants she borrowed from you and climbing onto the bed, one knee after another. You found yourself excited over the prospect of her sitting on your face, aroused again without much time to rest. 

"You treat Captain Carter real nice, now." Steve sang as you felt the tip of his cock rub through your folds. Another whimper pushed through your throat as it came into contact with your sensitive nub, and Peggy smiled beautifully at you. 

"Love that sound. I wanna hear that as he fucks you, understood?" She said, turning around to give you the best view of your Scream t-shirt that showed a peek of her tummy and contoured her breasts. Before you could voice a reply, your mouth was covered by her moist cunt, prompting you to open your mouth and start exploring. "You were right, Cap. She is a good girl." Peggy said with a shaky voice as you began to trace the alphabet over her bundle with your tongue. 

Another weak gasp escaped as Steve's cock pushed into you, fully bottoming out as always and making you crumble with slow, rhythmic thrusts to start. 

"So tight, baby." Steve groaned, picking up the pace and placing his palm over your stomach. The added pressure and his rutting against your g-spot caused a long moan, nearly making you lose your pattern on Peggy's clit. She stared down at you as she gyrated her hips and rode your face. 

"Don't sto-op." Her accent rang through the air, causing you to flick your tongue faster. You have no intention of stopping, eager for her to cum in your mouth. Just the thought of it caused another climax to build inside of you. It was just as you pictured it. 

Steve continued to fuck you harder, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips and thighs, feeling you grow closer to release. "Fuck, baby, I wanna feel you cum on my cock. Cum for me." 

Just like before, he spoke your orgasm forward. Your pussy quivered and gripped his cock as you moaned into Peggy's cunt, still vigorously testing the swollen nub to completion. The vibration of the sound you made as you came did it, and she followed with her own almost instantly, juices dripping onto your lips and chin while her muscular thighs closed over your ears.

Your pulsating pussy pushed Steve closer. "Gonna cum deep inside you, baby. Fuck, you feel so good." He rambled as Peggy removed herself from your face to hear your breathy moans. Steve gave one final, hard shove before his warmth filled you up, watching as Peggy wiped her wetness away from your chin with her thumb. 

Steve joined the two of you in the bed, laying sideways with legs dangling off the side, breathing heavily. "Did that make you happy?" He asked, caressing your thigh. You smiled and nodded in return at him and Peggy. It was exactly what you wanted for days. 

"Then, by all means, take your time fixing my Travelmaster." Peggy spoke up before bringing her perfectly soft lips to yours in a dreamy kiss. She didn't have to tell you twice. 

[multiversefanfics]

Off Limits (Part 1)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader/Tony Stark's daughter Warnings: Cussing, maybe a little violence, fluffy Steve Summary: You're Tony's daughter and he wants you to join the Avengers to help out with getting intel, your dad tells the men that you are off limits and not to try anything, but a certain someone doesn't listen. Also, you can read minds. :) Enjoy! Mind reading is in italics A/N: This is gonna be a series

You always felt kind of different, you never seemed to fit in, anywhere. That sucked because you were a complete ray of sunshine despite your father being Tony Stark who was the complete opposite of that. When you were younger you thought you were crazy because there were all types of voices in your head, you didn’t know the powers you had until your parents sat you down and told you that you could read minds which is why they never kept anything from you except for the fact that they were your adoptive parents and your real parent was Tony Stark. Tony knew about you but you only knew of him, as Iron Man, you don’t know who your birth mother is, no one does. You’ve been homeschooled since the 5th grade, that’s when your powers got stronger and you couldn’t take the words people were thinking about you, and all the secrets you had to keep because how could you explain how you knew what you knew.

Now you are in your early 30s, and you can control them now and you're finally reunited with your birth father. You’re still in touch with your adoptive parents but they agreed that it would be safer for you to be with Tony since he had the technology and understanding to keep you safe. You’ve talked every day with Tony to get to know him before meeting just to make sure he wasn’t a creepy old man who just wanted to kidnap you and keep you as his own, but you trusted your parents and they’ve never lied to you before. You met Tony at the front of the compound, your heart was racing, and you couldn’t wait to spend time with your birth father. "Y/N, it's so great to finally meet you!" Tony pulled you into a tight hug. You didn't expect him to hug you, you've seen his sarcasm on TV and from people who've met him, he wasn't the affectionate type but maybe you were different because you were his daughter. The two of you pulled back and he smiled wide looking at your features

"It's like looking in a mirror." You smiled and looked back at him "It is weird, I always thought I looked like you but thought I was just crazy." He took your bag put it on one shoulder wrapped his free arm around your shoulders and guided you inside "Let's go introduce you to everyone." You both walked up the stairs and into the compound talking about small things to get to know each other, you two made it to the common room where everyone was sitting and talking. "Everyone, this is Y/N she is our newest Avenger." Everyone looked over exchanged hellos and introduced themselves "No offense, Tony but do we really need a new Avenger?" You snapped your head in the direction of the voice and found a very gorgeous blonde-haired, blue-eyed muscle man also known as Captain America.

Tony cleared his throat and stood tall "Well, Miss America, this is also my daughter." Everyone's jaw dropped and you stood there smiling wide looking at everyone's expression, their thoughts filling your mind which instantly gave you a headache. You rubbed your temples, flinching from the pounding spikes of pain. "I'm going to need everyone to stop thinking just for a moment please." They all looked at you confused "Just a little headache." You smiled and turned to Tony asking where you were staying "I'll show you." You smiled and followed Natasha to your room. "Alright, couple of ground rules." Tony stood in front of the other guys arms crossed "That is my daughter, none of you are allowed near her except on missions or when Natasha or I are present. Rogers and Cyborg, she is completely off-limits to you two and I swear if I find either one of you flirting with her I will end you." Everyone was silent and staring at Tony "Do I make myself clear?" They all nodded, and Tony smiled making his way up the stairs to your room.

You placed your backpack on your new bed, looking around your room. "So, what's Tony like?" Natasha looked at you "He's different." She chuckled and sat in the chair by a table "Different how?" You sat on the edge of your bed looking over at her "Well, I've never seen him smile so much in one day before, Tony is very sophisticated and likes things done in a certain way, he's very sarcastic, some people find him rude but really he's a genuine guy who's been through a lot." You smiled as she explained Tony more to you, you wanted to call him dad but at the same time, you're not ready yet. You started to get another headache, you rubbed your temple squeezing your eyes shut "Do you need me to get you anything?" You squinted up at Nat "Some water please?" She nodded and headed out of your bedroom door, you laid back on your bed trying to get your thoughts and other's thoughts from bumping around in your head.

"I know Tony said she's off limits but I can't keep my eyes off of her, she's gorgeous."

Was that Steve? You shook your head closing your eyes, you sighed to yourself trying to relax, you’ve controlled your powers very well until now, maybe because of a new environment? Maybe you were nervous? Who knows, you need to get it together. You finally got up from your position and started putting your clothes in the dresser across from your bed, it took several trips back and forth from your car to the compound for the rest of your clothes and anything else you wanted to bring, with help from Thor, Bucky and Nat. You giggled a few times hearing the thoughts from Bucky saying how many clothes you had, while Thor thought about how small they were compared to him. You finally got all of your stuff put away and everyone went their separate ways except Bucky, for some reason he stayed “So, you’re Tony’s daughter?”

You nodded and sat on the edge of the bed “Yeah, he seems great.” Bucky chuckled and nodded his head “Some would say” He looked around the room as if he was looking for someone “Well, I should get out of here, welcome to the team.” He gave you a small wave and walked away you raised an eyebrow and decided to follow him out the room “Wait, Bucky.” He stopped walking and turned to look at you “Yes, Y/N?” You caught up watching his face for any expression “I was wondering if you could show me around a bit” You saw him bite the inside of his cheek and look around. Why was he looking around?

Bucky: If Tony found out I was with her alone, he’d kill me.

You sighed and nodded “Never mind, I’m sure you’re busy.” You turned around and walked back to your room, you know Tony’s just looking out for you but you’re not a kid, you can handle yourself, you’re in a big-armed compound surrounded by super soldiers, black widow, a talking security system that controls everything, and a god for crying out loud. You decided to take a short nap, which ended up being a long nap, you were woken up by the sound of people yelling. Normally you don't hear anything outside of your room but it was super loud. You got out of bed and made your way to the common area "I don't care if it's innocent or not, you will not be around my daughter!" You heard Tony yell, but who was he yelling at? You peeked around the corner and saw him talking to Steve and Bucky, you couldn't help but think to yourself 'Did I get Bucky in trouble?'

You shook your head and continued to listen "Tony, she asked me about you I couldn't just walk away." Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes “Give me a break cyborg.” Bucky scoffed and threw his head back “Alright, Tony.” You heard footsteps walking away “I can’t believe Tony is being so harsh.” That sounded like Steve but it could’ve been Bucky being sarcastic “Please, Tony is always harsh I understand why he’s like this, it’s his daughter and honestly I don’t blame him she’s gorgeous and I’ve been waiting to be alone with her” You heard Bucky chuckle and pat Steve’s back “Aww you have a crush, how cute. You know Tony won’t go for it.” You heard shuffling “Tony won’t know, right?” There was silence and then footsteps and when you looked up Steve was standing right in front of you. You smiled wide and looked up at him “Hi Steve.”

Main Masterlist - Steve Rogers Masterlist

Tags: @megamindsecretlair

[holylulusworld]

Yes (Steve)

Summary: You turn down every guy trying to hit on you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warning: many egos get scratched, fluff

A/N: Because so many pitied poor Stevie, he’ll get an alternative version to No. Please consider the beginning of the story is the same as Bucky’s version.

“Hi, my name is Sam. I saw you from over there and wanted to invite you to a drink or more,” he says and flashes you a smile. He’s not bad to look at. If only he didn’t eye you like his latest meal.

“No—” you turn another man down. It’s a crux, going to a bar alone. Most of the guys won’t take no for an answer or show enough decency to leave a woman alone. You wanted to have one drink after work, only to get hit on by the next best guy stepping into the bar.

The man’s shoulders sag, and he goes back to his friends’ table. They pat his shoulder, telling him to not take it to heart. You almost feel bad for him. But only until the next guy from their table walks toward you.

Great. They turned this into a challenge. Watching the next guy walk toward you, you sigh deeply. This is going to be a long night.

“Hello, darling. Name’s Tony,” the next guy drawls. He’s older than the first guy. “Why is a pretty lady like you all alone at a bar?”

You roll your eyes. “Not to talk to a guy with a goatee,” you snap at the man to cut him off. “If you would leave me alone now. The answer is no.”

“Ah, you’re the angry kind,” he leans against the bar counter, eyes drinking you in. “Why don’t you join me and my friends at our table?”

“Sorry, I’m not into gangbangs.”

The guest next to you coughs loudly because he choked on his beer thanks to your reply.

You dismissively wave your hand, sending the guy back to the table with his friends. He shakes his head and joins the bunch of guys.

“Nice comeback,” the guest next to you chuckles before grabbing the beers he ordered and walking toward the table.

“Not again,” you sigh and down your drink in one go as the next guy walks toward you. You tap the glass, ordering another one, while a tall blonde guy steps closer. He seems a little shy as his blue eyes search yours.

“Sorry to disturb you, but—” he clears his throat and points at the table with his friends. “My friends and I wondered if you want to come over and join us.”

You look him up and down. He’s very handsome. Tall and well-built, and his eyes are nice too. He nervously wrings his hands as he tries to find the right words.

Leaning back on your bar stool, you decide not to immediately turn him down. If he’s not a creep, you’ll have a drink with him. It won’t hurt spending time with a shy guy, especially when he looks like the man in front of you.

“No, I don’t want to join you and your friends,” you say, but smile at the man. He looks like a cute puppy, and you cannot deny feeling a pull toward him.

“Uh—thanks for your time,” he stammers and wants to walk off. You’re fast to grab his wrist and stop him from joining his friends. He glances at your hand around his wrist, furrowing his brows.

“Wait,” you say, earning a confused look from him. “I said, I don’t want to join you and your friends, but,” you grin, “‘why don’t you stay here, and we have a drink?”

“Oh…OH!” His eyes light up, and he flashes you a stunning smile. Damn him, he looks like the sweet boy next door, but his body screams something else. “I’d like that, doll.”

You giggle at the sweet pet name. “So, do you want me to call you blue-eyes, or will you give me a name?” You bat your eyelashes, laying it on thick to keep him from leaving.

“Crap, yes.” His cheeks burn as he holds out his hand. “Steve, miss. My name is Steve.”

“Y/N,” you reply and take his offered hand. It’s warm and strong. “Nice to meet you, Steve. What do you drink?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” He laughs as you shake your head. “Uh—beer is fine. I don’t feel the influence of alcohol, but I like the taste.”

“That’s very interesting, Steve,” you say, and pat the empty seat next to yours. “How about you tell me more about it and you? What is a sweet man like you doing at a place like this?”

Steve chuckles at the awful pick-up line. He relaxes as he realizes that you’re interested in him. “My friends dragged me here. I usually don’t go to bars.”

The guys from his table groan loudly because you look Steve deep in the eyes and smile.

“What just happened?” Tony gasps loudly. “This can’t be! Capsicle can’t succeed after all of us fail! How did he do this? How did he turn a no into a yes?”

Tags in reblog.

[deathofacupid]

SHAY'S 100 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION!

you're invited! to celebrate 100 followers (small milestone, but it's still something), i'll write fics and blurbs that have hot men in them for you! scroll down to find this party's agenda...

this will take place from febuary 21st, 2024 to march 31, 2024!

THESE ARE ALL X READERS!

the guestlist! pick a character down below!

-tom holland + co (nathan drake, peter parker, arvin russel)

-zendaya + co (michelle jones)

-miscellaneous characters: bucky barnes, loki, steve rogers, stucky, tony stark, miles morales, doctor strange, peter quill, eddie brock

the menu! pick a something to go along with your character! make sure to pick a genre when you send in an ask (fluff, angst, flangst, could be a lil spicy but no nsfw!)

-character from a guestlist and a dialougue prompt from this list or this list... make sure to specify who's doing it!

-character from guestlist and an action prompt from this list or this list... make sure to specify who's doing it!

-character from the guestlist paired with an au... action/dialougue prompt is optional (venom!reader, blackcat!reader, cop!peter, actress/singer!reader, etc).

rules and regulations! just a few things to mention...

-no nsfw/smut!

-specify a genre (fluff, angst, flangst) please!

-when you send in a request, even more so for the au, please give a little summary!

-i mostly write for marvel characters, (aside from arvin russell and nathan drake) so if you send in one of those, you'll be more likely to get a better, longer fic. this includes michelle jones, peter parker, zendaya, tom holland, arvin russell, and bucky barnes, but you don't have to.

note from the author!

little late on the 100 follower... we're closer to 150 now! thank you to all the people that have liked, followed, and reblogged! also, i only write for fem!reader and gn!reader. when requesting, please pick one. keep in mind, my default is fem!reader. i try to stay inclusive for everyone, but if you want short!reader, tall!reader, or anything of the sort, please tell me!

ask to be added to the taglist, and check out my full masterlist here...

works from this event!

taglist @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee

[reverieblondie]

Surprise Guest

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Warnings: Some dry humping, language, and self indulgent to the max.

Summary: Your brother Bucky invites a guest to spend Christmas with your family... you should have known it was Steve and that old feelings would come back up...

A/N: Hello, This is my first time writing for Steve and I would like to thank @buck-star for showing me their wonderful Fluffy Winter Event! Now if you are used to my BG3 content, this might be a bit different. But I love Steve so please don't judge! The heart wants what the heart wants. If you are new to my writing hi! hope you enjoy and if you have any ideas for Steve (or Chris Evans characters) just ask!

Tropes: Brothers Best Friend, Baking together, Dancing.

Word count: 6,469.

"Bucky's bringing a mystery guest? What, is it some new girlfriend?" 

You tease, watching as your mother picks up your brother's old childhood room, fussing over the bedding and ensuring everything is still just as he left it. The only changes made are the sublet Christmas decorations to make the room appear more festive. She also kept your room in the same state when you left for college; it was like a time capsule every time you two came home for the holidays. 

"Well, from my understanding, it's supposed to be some kind of surprise for us?" She says as she brushes the nonexistent dust from the curtains.

Scrunching your face and piercing your lips, you try to think about who Bucky could be bringing. It's no surprise Bucky is bringing a guest; he always seemed to bring home a stray or two when he came around for the holidays. Sometimes, it was girlfriends to meet Mom or friends from college, like Sam, who had spent last Thanksgiving with your family. But it's supposed to be a surprise… so it would have to be a girlfriend, right? 

You end up just shrugging your shoulders. As long as Bucky didn't bring anyone that would make the holiday awkward, you really didn't care who was coming around. 

Hours later, you're all still waiting for Bucky and the mystery guest to show up. Dad was asleep in his recliner as you and Mom wrapped presents while sharing memories from past Christmases. Fond memories flooded as you thought of the play fighting you and Bucky would always get into and the delicious sweets you would make with Mom. But the best part was just getting to see your family and making more memories with each other.  

During your trip down memory lane, you didn't hear the door slowly opening, and you definitely didn't hear your brother sneaking up behind you. You did, however, feel when he suddenly squeezed you in a tight bear hug, making you scream. 

Embarrassed at being spooked, you turn around and see that it's just Bucky laughing at your reaction. The panic you felt turns into elation as you hug your brother, "You asshole, you scared the crap out of me!"  

Bucky laughs before ruffling your hair, "Wow, language Goober, we have a guest." 

Ah, yes, the guest! You let go of Bucky and finally look towards the door, expecting to see an excited girlfriend, but when you look, your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets. Filling the doorway with a massive form was the surprise guest…tall, blonde, cute... Steve Rogers? 

Blue eyes watch you intently as he stands holding what you assume to be his and Bucky's bags. You're still not even convinced it's him until you fully take in all the features of his face, full lips, nice nose, and sweet smile that shows off his cute dimples and perfect teeth. Holy shit, that is Steve.

Mom rushes up with a squeal when she sees Bucky. The loud squealing finally jerks your father awake from his snoring as he looks at what his wife could be screaming at. He seems to relax when he sees she's just fussing over Bucky like always. Usually, you would be messing with Bucky at this moment, teasing him about being late and being a mama's boy, but your focus has gone to the elephant or, well, the big bulky guy shaking your father's hand. 

It's been years since you last saw Steve. Unconsciously, you touch your fingers to your lips as what feels like a storm floods your gut. You didn't mean to be staring at Steve, but you feel as if you're in shock. Of course, as you're staring, his eyes leave your fathers to return to you. He smiles at you, and it almost looks like he's about to approach before an excited, pitched scream from your mother has him startled and shooting a wide-eyed look at her.

Her excitement leaves your ears ringing as she goes to Steve, giving him a hug and promptly rubberbanding him for not coming to visit sooner. Steve just fumbles out some excuses as his eyes go from her to you and back to her. Looking back at Bucky, you inch yourself closer to him before swatting his shoulder. 

"Ow! What?" He gripes. 

"You didn't think to tell us it was Steve coming over?" 

Bucky just gives you a smirk, "It was a surprise; you're surprised, right?" 

“yeah…real surprised…” you mumble under your breath.

Both of you watch as your mom continues to gush over Steve, how it's been so long, how he's so tall and different looking, what he has been up to. All questions you wanted to ask yourself. Seeing Steve again throws you for the biggest loop, and frankly, it makes old feelings you thought died freshman year swell up. Why the hell is he here? After all this time, his face looks like some kind of sexy lab experiment gone all too right. 

"Steve, we are just so happy to see you. It's been forever. I should have guessed it would have been you! Right, honey, we should have guessed!" Your mom throws her eyes towards you to see you with confused glare. "Sweetie? Aren't you going to say hi? It's Steve. Isn't that incredible!"

Some might think it's unbelievable… 

Plastering an awkward smile to your face, you give a slight wave, "Hi Steve." 

"Hey, Scout, it's nice to see you again; it's been a while." A smile is stretched on his full lips as he calls you his old nickname, you haven't heard in forever. You almost forgot how he always called you Girl Scout for running around with him and Bucky playing army and then baking cookies afterward. You hated that nickname before, but now that you think about it, the name fits. 

There is a silence as your family watches the lukewarm reunion. Finally, your mom is moving over to you with a wide grin. "I don't think you're going to have to compare heights with him anymore." -Why is she bringing that up… 

You may have had an obnoxious habit of every time Bucky would bring Steve over, you would stand next to him to compare heights. At first, it was just your little secret. You would be behind his back to make sure you weren't getting too tall too fast, but then it became a game. Steve was always a good sport about it, and you always hoped you wouldn't become taller than him. But now, as you look at his 6'2 stature, it's clear that fear wouldn't happen. 

"I'll stand still so we can double-check," Steve chimes in, "It is kind of a tradition, Scout. What do you say?" Your mom looks expectantly as Bucky just gives Steve a quick pat on the back before sneaking off to the kitchen. You walk over to Steve, keeping your eyes steady on his, finding it hard not to roam your eyes down over his broad build. Okay, maybe you did seek a glance down his tight shirt, screaming across his chest, which leads to what you're sure is an impeccable abdomen and narrow waist. God, even his thighs underneath his jeans just look perfect to sit on. -Shit!

Burying down some horny thoughts, you stand in front of Steve, who now towers over you. From this close, you see that he's still every bit as cute (maybe even more handsome…), And he smells of that same musk you have come to recall so well, just this time there is just a hint of spruce. Steve has a smirk on his lips as he looks down at you, "Looks like you never got taller than me." he whispers as you judge your height with your hand; he's a whole head taller than you, maybe more. 

Your cheeks flare with a blush that you're sure is reaching your ears. You look at his face, your eyes immediately going to his smiling lips, and those memories of that night in that lonely hallway come rushing back. Why is it equally wonderful to see him and make your stomach twist into a sicky storm? 

"You're so tall now…" is all you can seem to answer, making Steve chuckle even more and you wish the ground would swallow you up ‘You're so tall now’ yeah no shit!

Finally, you're able to slip out an excuse completely modified at how you're turning into such a flustered schoolgirl! Steve stutters some kind of goodnight after you as you make your way up the stairs; turning back, the last thing you see is a concerned-looking Steve watching you. 

You're quick to rush past all the Christmas decorations and tuck yourself away into your room, leaning your back against the door and doing what you found yourself not doing when you were so close to Steve: Breathe. 

Steve Rogers, honestly, of course it's Steve. You should have considered it sooner since he's been your brother's best friend for years! He's so different now. He was as thin as a pin the last time you saw him. Now he's a total beefcake, and those fluttering feelings of a crush you thought were tamped down years ago are bubbling forward. 

Steve was always a good friend, not only to your brother but to you and your family. Now that you think about it, he was always just a good person? He always defined your brother no matter what and would always help anyone in need. He was bullied and teased when you knew him, but that never stopped him from voicing his opinion and standing up for what was right. Sure, it often ended up with Steve with a busted lip and Bucky pummeling the bully, but you couldn't help but admire his courage and willingness to help people and his kindness.

A sigh slips from your chest… Steve's kindness… he really was kind, sometimes confusing, but ultimately kind…

During the winter dance, you still remember all the beautiful snowflakes in the air and the way the silver tinsel shined under the sparkling lights. It was a tradition that the school put on a Dance before winter break. As a jaded Senior, Bucky wasn't as impressed, but you, as a freshman, were beyond excited. You had saved for new heels, Mom helped you pick the perfect dress, and you even managed to somehow get a date! There was no way this night was going to be ruined! 

The night did not go as planned. 

Your new heels you got on sale? Snapped. The new dress you got? Ruined when someone ran into you with a full glass of punch. And your date? Your oh-so-wonderful date? He left to dance with some flirty junior…

Now, here you are, sitting on the floor outside of the dance, trying not to cry in the dark hallway. You listen to the music, just waiting until you finally hear the last song end. Then you can walk home with Bucky and Steve and forget about this embarrassing night. As if it were fate, a nearby door swings open, and who do you see? Steve Rogers.

Steve looks at you, and his jaw tenses; he immediately turns to go back into the dance to find and try to beat up your ex-date. Before he can, however, you're standing up and quickly grabbing Steve by the sleeve. Steve, being Steve, of course, pauses per your request, but you can tell he didn't want to. 

Steve sits on the floor as you talk about your series of unfortunate events.

"So, how did you figure out I was out here?" 

"When I saw your date dancing with Suzy, it kind of clued me in..." There was a short pause before Steve looked at you confused.

"Why did you even say yes to that idiot?"

Of course, that made you laugh before you shrugged, "I don't know. I think that I was just excited to be asked…" 

Steve nods in understanding, "If that's the case, then I should have asked you." 

You feel butterflies when he says it, and when you turn to look at him, he's looking forward with a noticeable blush. Dammit, he's cute.

As you sit there with Steve, the announcement of the final dance is made, and as you gather your courage to ask him to dance, Steve beats you to the question, "Dance with me?" he asked so quietly, almost like a whisper…

You smile, "I thought you didn't dance?"

"Let's just say I'm willing to dance with you."

"But I don't have shoes."

Steve just looks over at you with a warm smile before he stands, reaching his hand down towards you. "Then I guess you won't be taller than me." You bite your bottom lip as you take his hand, letting you get up. You look into his beautiful blue eyes, "I'm only an inch shorter than you and still growing." 

Steve carefully places your hand on his shoulder before placing his hand on your waist, "Then let me enjoy this while I'm still tall enough to lead."

As the song goes, you dance with Steve, loving how he slightly stumbles and needs to look down at his feet every couple of paces. It's not until you move both his hands to your hips and wrap your arms to hug around his neck that the tension leaves him, and you can sway together in harmony. As you lean your head down to his shoulder, you take in his scent and surprising warmth.

"Thank you, Steve..." you whisper in his ear, Steve chuckles for a moment, his hands seeming to tighten slightly.

"I just wish I was a better dancer... for you." 

"Well, I think that this is perfect." You look into his ocean eyes, "That you're perfect." His cheeks flush red as he smiles clearly not used to the complements. 

You take the time to trace over his handsome features like you have so many times before, but instead of your staring being secret, Steve's eyes stay on you before they flick down your lips. Your heartbeat races, and you can feel yourself blushing redder. Caught, he quickly looks back into your eyes, but that's when you lean in, moving to play with the golden hair at the nape of his neck. 

Swallowing, Steve focuses his eyes on your lips as he places his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"Steve... please…"

"Y-You Sure?"

"Yes." That's all you had to say as you closed your eyes and felt Steve take your first kiss. His full lips started sweet and shy before you felt the feeling of his tongue timidly asking for permission to push past your lips. As soon as you let him in and his tongue brushes against yours, he pulls away.

Steve looks at you guilty before he backs away. "I gotta go... tell Bucky I said goodbye."

"Steve, wait!"

But as the song ended, Steve was already gone... leaving with your first kiss and leaving you completely confused.

Thinking back on the memory makes you groan as you go over to your bed, plopping down with a thump. Who the hell kisses someone then leaves! Were you bad at it? Damn you, Steve Rogers, you fucking nerd! That stormy feeling of rejection starts to bloom within your chest. Was it rejection? It felt like it... and after the kiss, things were different. He didn't come around as much, and then he graduated.

Now he's back, tall, and still so cute. Who are you kidding? Steve looks downright sexy, and it isn't even fair! People are not supposed to get hotter like that! Steve looks like he's been living at the gym while your acne just cleared up. And from what you have seen from him tonight, he's still just as charming and lovely…

oh, universe, tho, are such a cold bitch...

The following day hits you like a ton of bricks. You feel as if you didn't get one wink of sleep last night. Dreams ranging from memories to fantasies have kept you from getting any rest. Sighing, you roll out of bed and maybe put on just a little bit of makeup... - Just to look less tired, not for any other reason…

Finally, you make it downstairs, rounding your way over to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee wafs through the air. The sight looks like one from a Christmas card, with the garland hanging from the window and the Christmas-themed tea towels everywhere. Then there's Mom making a frantic list of last-minute needs, Bucky checking his phone, and Steve? Oh, Steve. He stands drinking his cup of coffee, and his eyes seem to go from tired to bright as soon as they lock with yours.

You chime out a good morning as you enter the room. Mom and Bucky mutter out a grody morning in response. 

“Good morning Scout, Coffee?” Steve says in what seems like anticipation and you just give him a small nod and a yes please as you walk to see what your mom is scratching away at. 

Looking over her shoulder as you sit confirms your thought that she needs last-minute things. As soon as you sit, a mug of fresh coffee is placed in front of you, with cream and sugar to follow. Looking up, you see Steve looking down at you with that same kind smile. 

Dammit, he's still so sweet…

"Such a gentleman..." your mom says almost teasingly. Yes, mom, you know! She gives you an expectant look, and all you can do is roll your eyes. 

"Last-minute list? I thought last year you said you were never shopping on Christmas Eve again?" she sighs, ripping the paper from the pad. “Unfortunately, some things can't be helped. So while me and your brother are at the store, you, my favorite daughter, will do the baking."

"I'm your only daughter."

"Jury is still out on that." Bucky snarks

Rolling your eyes, you discreetly shoot Bucky the bird that he fakes being insulted by. Though as soon as mom looks up you two are going back to being civil. . 

"What am I making this year?"

"Your wonderful Chocolate pie and Steve has requested Chocolate Chip Cookies." The request makes you give Steve a pointed look. He quickly turns away, making a fake whistle. You swear if he has only come back for your cookies, you don't care how big he is; you will throw him off the roof.

With the plans set Bucky slides out from his chair pocketing his phone, "Alright, Steve, let's get ready to go."

"Actually, I was going to hang back and give a hand with the baking." -what? 

"She would love that! So kind!" Your mom beams -excuse me? 

"Yeah, maybe you can help her keep the pies in one piece this year." Bucky snickers, teasing at the fact that every year, the pie always has a missing slice by morning. Bucky suspects it's you, considering you made it. You think it's Bucky, but nobody truly knows the truth. 

"I'm not the pie thief you are," you say, pushing Bucky with your elbow. Of course, Bucky isn't just going to take that… so he shoves you back, and the sibling bickering starts. 

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Am Not!" 

"Are Too!" 

"Shut up!" Mom is quick to end the immature argument, but it doesn't stop you and Bucky from sticking your tongues out at each other—very mature.

"You, desserts, Bucky, with me, Steve, I'm sorry." With that, Buck and Mom are gone to do late shopping, leaving you and Steve alone in the kitchen.

It's quiet for a minute before Steve finally turns to you with a wide smile. "Just tell me what to do, Scout. You're in charge."

Ah, so you're leading now.

Grabbing the recipe book, you quickly flip through the pages until you find the right one. With a smile, you shove the book into his large hands. Steve doesn't even seem fazed as he keeps his eyes on yours.

"Chocolate pie, it's foolproof."

Steve cocks his head to the side, "Foolproof? Ouch, Scout." 

"Don't pretend to be offended. I've heard you and Bucky call each other much worse."

Steve steps closer to you, “I don’t know you seem to have a bit of meanness in you know, I saw you give him the middle finger.” Steve tsk his lips and you wince, of course he saw that…  

Not backing away from a challenge, you get even closer—so close you can smell the coffee off his breath. “Well Steve; you haven't seen me in a long time. I guess it only makes sense that I changed."

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as he looks over the recipe but keeping your little game going, "Don’t worry I plan on figuring that out while I'm here." 

“Figuring out what?" you say crossing your arms and popping out your hip, Steve's eyes move to you as they roam slowly over your body, then he smirks.  

"If you're still as sweet as I remember..." The way it just rolls off his tongue is so Sinful. Sure, he's still sweet, but now he's seemed to learn how to flirt. And with how your cheeks heat up from his words, you might be in trouble for falling even more for him.

Instead of quipping back, you just turn away and start gathering the ingredients you need. Trying desperately to ignore the budding tension. Baking in a kitchen with a handsome man can create its own kind of testion. But baking alone in a kitchen with an attractive man you once shared a first kiss with, now that tension could be cut with a knife. 

Time passes as you two continue to silently bake, you wish the teasing had not ended so abruptly because now you are coming up with all the best comebacks, figures…

Turning your head over your shoulder, you watch Steve cut up the chocolate bricks in fine flakes. His large hands are coated in chocolate, and watching his muscles tense and move with the quick movements of the knife is mouthwatering… 

Steve turns to look at you and gives you a soft smile. Quickly, you move your eyes to the cookie mix you're putting together, trying to seem like you are totally not staring at him, imagining how sweet his chocolate-coated fingers would be in your mouth. Rolling your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try to ground yourself in reality for a moment; you're in your parent's kitchen with your brother's best friend; this is not the time to be thinking horny thoughts.  

While lost in your internal struggle, you feel a large hand placed on your hip; The hand is gripping tightly making warmth instantly shooting tingles down your spine. Looking up, you see Steve reaching for a bowl that is very conveniently placed in the cabinet above you. His cologne invades your senses, and you can't be too mad about it. Also, the subtle way he's pushing and leaning on you is making his crotch rub against your ass, either he knows exactly what he's doing or doesn't care to give you any personal space. You imagine it's the latter. 

Once he's retrieved the bowl his breath is fanning against your ear, and his velvet voice numbs your mind to mush: " Sorry, Scout. I needed to grab a bowl." Oh, he's toying with you. 

Finding your grip on reality, you take your bowl of cookies and push yourself out of Steve's sexy radiance. "Next time, ask, huh?" 

You move over to the mixer and start mixing up the dough. You hear Steve clear his throat over the mixture. Looking over your shoulder again, you see his broad frame diligently mixing the filling over the stove. You hate how much you enjoy looking at him and his cute butt…

"Are you worried I'm messing up the mixing?" he calls over his shoulder. You quickly turn around and add the chocolate chips to the fluffy dough.

"Like I said... foolproof, I'm not worried." You say, trying to sound confident.

"So there's another reason why you're staring at me this whole time?" Does he have eyes in the back of his head!?

"I wasn't-"

"Don't even try it," Steve warns as he finally pours the chocolate mix into the pie crust and puts it in the oven to bake. Finally, he turns to face you, Crossing his massive arms in front of him. "I've felt your eyes on me this whole time." 

Shit... Returning to your mixer, you do your old faithful tactic when you don’t want to answer a question, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

You hear a groan thinking you have won but then there's a small sigh, "I know you're mad at me..." 

That makes you pause. Mad at him? Were you mad at him? Part of you was for awhile but when you really think about it now you're more confused than anything. You take a deep breath and finally say the one thing you had thought about most after that kiss. 

"You don't just kiss someone and then run away you know." 

You finally turn and see that you have Steves full attention, he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I know." he finally gets out.

"Then why did you-"

"I kissed you at the wrong time..." That throws you for a loop. Steve's blush makes the tips of his ears bright red as he continues." You were... lonely and sad..." 

It's your turn to interrupt, "Steve Rogers, did you pity kiss me?" 

Steve's eyes widen as he quickly reaches for you but holds off, "No! No, it was a real kiss... for me, it was a real kiss."

"What do you mean? That kiss felt real to me, I mean, it was my first kiss..." 

You feel yourself wanting to put up your guard but before you can you feel Steve's hands gently sliding up and down your arms before moving to your shoulders carefully brushing away your hair, "I want it to be better. To be right.” Steve's blue eyes look so softly down at you and you feel ensnared all over again. You lean in, and it feels all so familiar. When his hand comes to your cheek and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, “When I kiss you again, you will know what I mean..." 

God, you want him to kiss you again,

”When?” You question. 

Steve leans in, his breath fanning over your lips, “How else will I know if you taste as sweet as you did that night..” 

You feel like you're melting as you close your eyes, the memories of his tongue tasting like peppermint making you crave it now. You rise to your tiptoes as Steve's arms curl around you,  but before you can do anything, the oven's timer is going off. 

Both of you jump before frantically looking for the oven mitts, running into each other as you reach for the oven. Finally, you two get the stove open and pull the pan out at the same time. It's so frantic and excessive you both can't help but laugh as you hold the pie.

"What are you two doing?" The sudden voice of bucky practically scares the crap out of you. 

Steve looks at his friend then just cocks his head, “Baking, obviously.” 

Bucky, ever clueless, just shakes his head as he puts bags of groceries away, you can not believe you almost kissed him again! And almost got caught. You take the pie and place it down to get cooled off. As you turn you run into your mother who is looking at you confused, you think for a moment she's trying to read your mind but then she places her cold hands to your cheeks. 

“Steve, what did you do to my girl? She looks flushed?” 

Steve just chuckles as he helps with the groceries, “I think she was standing too close to the oven, making her get hot.” 

You give him an unamused look, he knows what made you hat and it wasn't a damn oven. 

Hours later, long after you and Steve had finished the desserts, after sitting with your Mom and watching the same Christmas movies you did every year (though this year you might have been distracted…) and going to bed, you find that you're still tossing and turning thinking about Steve; what does he mean when he kisses you again… is he going to? You almost did, but then your family walked in… Will he have the chance? And what does he mean you taste sweet!

2am, and you're still thinking about him; years later, he can still rile you up and keep you second-guessing. Just is not fair, damn hot people…

Not seeing any end to your torment, you decide it's time for the perfect late-night medicine: a sweet treat. Making your way down to the kitchen as quietly as possible, you find the Christmas-themed Tupperware stashing the cookies and take one. The sweetest is only a temporary relief to your racing mind, however. Further trying to distract yourself, you open the fridge, checking the pie, making sure it's still intact, and it is. 

When you close the fridge, you lazily look around the dimly lit room till you see Steve in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and no shirt. Seriously, universe… 

"Looks like Bucky is right; you are the pie thief." 

"I was just checking on it, not eating it." 

Steve steps into the kitchen, takes a seat at the table, and gets himself a cookie as well. You decide to join in, your minds already filled with him. What's the harm? 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

"I thought I heard a pie theft." he taunts, making you chuckle, but it dies off quickly, and that same tension starts piling up again. 

"I was up thinking about you," Steve suddenly admits, "Thinking back on that night…" 

"The night you ran off with my first kiss?" You say it more bitterly than you meant it, but Steve doesn't seem to flinch. 

"I had thought of kissing you a long time before then," he confesses, warming your cheeks. 

"Why didn't you?" 

Steve doesn't look at you while he shrugs his mind on the past, "One, there's an unspoken rule about best friends, sisters, and… I didn't feel good enough, scrawny punk kissing a beautiful, kind girl like you. Thought you would have been modified. Then at the dance when we danced together… you called me perfect. Girls would have never thought to say that, but you did, and I just couldn't help it. When I kissed you, I knew it was wrong, and then I ran, which was even more messed up."  

Steve ends his confession by turning to you with a smile, "I screwed it up," 

You two sit silently, looking out the window into the dark, snowing night, "If you messed it up, why come back?" 

"I was hoping for a second chance, but… when I saw how mad you were and when we interrupted it… it kinda brought me back to reality, shook me and my plan up…" 

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, "Your plan?" 

You see, Steve blushes, "Charm you, and I hope I get to do it right this time…" 

Your laugh was involuntary. You couldn't believe that after all this time, he wanted a do-over. Steve Rogers, you are the biggest dork, and you love it. He looked embarrassed at you, laughing at his confession, but then you stood from your chair and reached down towards him. "Well? How are you going to charm me sitting down? This is your last chance, Steve. Don't blow it."

Steve grabs your hand, standing to his towering height, "What's the first step in the plan, Steve? I'll let you lead."  

"First…" Steve steps closer, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands to hide purchase on your fuzzy pajama bottom hips. "We sway just like that night." 

The two of you start to sway in that same slow dance, and though there is no music, you both know which one is playing in your mind as you move in perfect rhythm. Your hands move from his soft hair to slide down to his chest, where you feel his heart racing through his bare chest. He watches you intently before carefully bringing you to press against his warm body. You can no longer tuck your head into his neck, so you lean into his chest. Steve pauses, and you feel him bring his hand to your cheek, having you look up at him. 

"Second, I will tell you how I think you're the prettiest, funniest, kindest girl I've ever met and how, for years, I have thought of you." 

You bite your lip as you look into his blue eyes, which reflect the colors of the Christmas lights. "When's the part where you kiss me?" you say, a tad breathless. 

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, looking at their flushed color, "That's step three after I ask…" 

"Steve, kiss me before I lose my mind and pummel you." 

That was the exact invitation Steve was waiting for because the next thing you know, he's leaning down and kissing your lips slowly. His hands cupped your cheeks before sliding back down to your waist, his mouth carefully guiding you. It's just as sweet and warm as the first time, but now, with how he moves his lips gently with yours, you can tell he's practiced. Rising your toes, you wrap your hands around his neck and swipe your tongue against his lips, begging for them to part. Once they do, you slip your tongue to taste his. A slight grunt leaves his throat as his hands tighten -Yeah, you learned some things last time. 

Steve slides his hands down your body to find purchase on your ass, giving a squeeze and forcing a moan from you in the process before he lifts you up and places you on the contour. Breaking the kiss, he looks at your red face, catching your breath, "taste sweet.." he mumbles before tilting your head up to leave open-mouth kisses on your neck. 

The feeling of his burning tongue swiping at your sensitive skin has you tightening your thighs to try to ease your aching clit that's begging to feel him closer. As he's licking and marking your skin with reckless abandonment, your hands are pawing and tugging at his soft hair. Holding on to dear life, his head goes lower and lower, passing your collarbone. This must be that real kiss he talked about before. 

Your wandering hands meet the prominent bulge pressed against your leg; softly touching the hardness makes Steve pause as he softly moans into your neck. 

"Steve.." His lips kiss your neck slowly as he spreads your thighs, moving in between them. 

"Yes, baby… what do you want? Anything you want..." he says into your skin, making you shiver as his lips caress your sweet spot. 

You feel his bulge finally press against your covered cunt, and you can't help but gasp, "I want to feel you…" you finally tremble out as you move your hips slowly over him, grinding on his cock. 

Steve watches you in awe for a moment before he's repositioning himself and rocking his hips so the nip nudges your clothed clit over and over. Part of you think this might be a delicious dream; there is no way you're actually dry-humping with Steve on your kitchen table in your parent's house, is there? But when his fat tip teases your clit again, making your toes curl, you know this is a dream, this is real, and you don't care. You need him now. 

You're about to shimmy out of your bottoms and pull Steves down as well,  but the sound creaking of the stairs has you both snapping back to reality. The reality is your hands are about to pull down your pants while Steve has a huge tending boner, and you're on the kitchen table; if caught, there is no explaining that one. So quickly, you're hopping off the table and eagerly pulling Steve to hide in the kitchen's pantry with you. Safely hidden, you and Steve peer through the panty's louvered door to see who is ruining your late-night treat. 

Tiptoeing through the kitchen, you see your father making his way to grab a fork and then going to the fridge. Unbelievable. You owe Bucky an apology.

"That sneaky little—" Before you can finish whispering, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you, his length pushing against you. Turning around carefully, you face him. Only the light streaming in illuminates his face, and you can just see that affection filling his eyes. 

Steve gently kisses your lips again, finding them way too easy in the dim dark. His hands curl around your waist, and his head rests in the crook of your neck. His warm breath makes you melt all too quickly. 

"Scout, I've liked you for so long…" he says into your neck. 

Cuddling him closer, you're about to confess your feelings, those feelings that you had from the moment you met him. Then, the pantry door opens, and you meet your father's shocked expression. His daughter is hiding in the pantry with tousled hair, and her brother's best friend, who is shirtless, is embracing each other. Not a great look…

Eyes going wide as you push yourself away from Steve, trying to fix your hair. Steve clears his throat awkwardly, turning his back towards your father, trying in vain to hide his prevalent bulge. Starting to fumble out an excuse, you're stuttering and panicking for an explanation, but your father is slowly shutting the door before you can even get out a syllable.   

You stare at the Shut door in shock. "He's so going to blab to my mother," you groan.

Back in the darkness, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you. "Would that be so bad? She has been hinting about us getting together."

"Bucky is going to kick your ass."

Steve kisses your neck again, quickly learning where to tease you with his soft lips. "That's fine if you agree. Come out with me for New Year's." Turning, you press your cheek to his chest, cuddling closer. 

"Can we go dancing?

Steve Chuckles as he kisses your head and holds you tighter, says, "We can do whatever you want. I want to make up for lost time."

"Better late than never."

[the-iceni-bitch]

Oh god, titles are always the last thing I do so the names are so basic but okay!

Red and Peach Meet Cute (Amazon Natasha and short!curvy fem reader NLLYL -The City)

Bachelor Weekend (Ninja/Blondie (platonic) and Ari/Ransom (SMUT) NLLYL)

Rookie Beefcake (detective!bottom Bucky Barnes and top!younger male reader NLLYL - The City)

Sleazy Rockstar and Boy toy Meet Cute (rockstar!Thor and younger/nerdy/shy/tall male!reader with Carol cameo NLLYL - The City)

Drug lord Thor Anniversary (mob!Thor x fem!reader VA)

Mob Stucky Fuck Around (mob!Stucky x fem!reader VA)

DILF Steve Wedding (dilf!Steve Rogers and tattoo artist!fem Reader GPCLD)

Ninja and Puppy Wedding (Ransom Drysdale and fem!reader NLLYL)

Bear and Cubby first date (Ari Levinson and Jake Jensen NLLYL)

Gem and Blondie Move In (Ransom Drysdale and Jake Jensen NLLYL - Before)

Mr Freezy All Out War (Bobby and Kitten PP)

Nick and hellcat “meet cute” (Nick Fowler and fem!reader PP)

Chopper and Siren meet cute (Curtis Everett and prostitute fem!reader PP)

Holidays with the Daddies (Ari Levinson and Lloyd Hansen and fem!reader AOTU)

Do as You’re Told (Alpha!Curtis Everett and Omega!fem reader TEF - STSL)

Alpha!Andy intro (Alpha!Andy Barber and Omega!fem reader, IHDCFMICHMHM - STSL)

Dance Dad Curtis (single dilf!Curtis Everett and ballerina!fem reader)

Tagging @afriendlyblackhottie @howdoyousleep3 @fandomfluffandfuck @onsunnyside @slothspaghettiwrites @syntheticavenger @galatially @honeystevie and anyone else who wants to join!

The WIPs Ask Game

thank you for tagging me @imyourbratzdollI 

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it

All or Nothing at All (Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers)

Blackberry Winter (Cole Turner)

Cicadas Dancing Soft & Sweet (Hal Carter)

Hear That Whippoorwill (Steve Rogers)

I Love You Like Crazy, Girl (Ari Levinson)

The Man That You Made (Bucky Barnes)

Nothing Left to Prove (Mickey Henry & Frank Adler)

My Prairie Song (Bucky Barnes)

The One to Sacrifice (Johnny Storm)

The Original Dolls (Multiple)

Pistol By My Side (August Walker)

Red Riding Hood (Geralt of Rivia)

Step Into My Ride (Ransom Drysdale & Destroyer!Chris)

Taking My Heart (Mike Weiss)

Wayfaring Stranger (Lee Bodecker)

Wake Up Call (Napoleon Solo & Ryan Ackerman)

The Whiskey on Your Breath (multiple)

Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @kthynes @the-iceni-bitch @luxeavenger @fineanddandy @lokislastlove