#steve rogers/reader

[happy74827]

Let Me In

[Steve Rogers x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Steve is persistent in a lot of things. But when he catches fear in your eyes, he wants nothing more than to help you heal.

WC: 2230

Category: Hurt/Comfort {TW — Implications of SA}

The “who did this to you” trope has my whole heart.

『••✎••』

Seeing the pain in Steve’s eyes was more than enough to make your own heartache. The confusion on his face turned into a deep-set frown as his hands hovered over your body, too afraid to touch. Too afraid that if he touched you, the rest of you would crumble to the ground.

The silence between you was deafening, yet Steve said nothing. He just stared at you. You felt his gaze move from the top of your head and down the length of your body. His jaw clenched tightly when your expression faltered, and you tried your hardest not to show the pain you were feeling.

He wasn’t even reaching toward you in the first place; he was reaching for the water that was sitting by his punching bag, but the damage was done the second his hand came into your view.

Out of all the things that could’ve happened, flinching from Steve… of all people was the worst thing possible. The look of hurt on his face was enough to make your own heart drop to your stomach.

You knew he would never hurt you; he would never cause you pain. It was Steve, for goodness sake; he was a big teddy bear who wouldn't cause harm unless absolutely necessary. He had the biggest heart you'd ever seen. And yet, here you were, cowering away from him.

When his hand came into your peripheral, you jumped back, almost tripping over yourself as you stared up at him. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat.

It was so loud. So, so loud.

Steve, ever the hero, immediately pulled back. The water was forgotten and all of his focus was on you now. He even tried to reach out to you again, but seeing the flinch on your face was enough to stop him in his tracks.

He didn’t know what to do.

Steve was the guy who knew exactly what to do in every situation. He was Captain America.

Captain America.

But seeing you cower away from him made him feel helpless.

His hands were still hovering, his brow was still furrowed, and his lips were set in a firm line. He wanted to touch you, to hold you, but he was so scared that you would push him away and run.

It broke his heart.

The last time he saw you, you were happy and laughing and smiling. But now, it was like someone had taken all the happiness from your face. The smile was gone. Your laughter was gone. The light was gone. And Steve hated it.

He hated it with every fiber of his being.

He was the first to speak. A small whisper. A whisper that would've been missed if you weren't hanging onto every single one of his movements.

"What happened?"

He took a small step forward and watched as you tensed up, your fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. You swallowed thickly and shook your head.

He deserved the truth, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him.

You didn’t want to tell him. Not after you had flinched away from him.

"I’m fine, Steve."

He gave a low hum and looked you over, trying to gauge the situation and find the best way to approach this. He needed to get you talking, but he had to be careful. He couldn’t make the same mistake twice.

"You don't look fine."

The way his voice came out, it was like a breath. His words were soft and comforting. His eyes never once left yours, not even to see where he was stepping.

You wanted to scoff. You wanted to tell him that you were perfectly fine and that he had nothing to worry about. You wanted to lie and say that the flinch was an accident, a momentary lapse in judgment.

You wanted to lie.

But you couldn't. Not to Steve.

Never to Steve.

"Who did this to you?"

It was the way he said it. The tone he used. It wasn't accusatory; it wasn't harsh. It was gentle. It was caring. It was full of concern. Full of love.

But the question brought you up short.

You could feel his eyes on you. You could feel his gaze burning through you, his worry evident. You could feel him staring right into your soul.

You knew he didn't mean to ask it, but the question slipped past his lips before he could stop it. Before he could pull it back.

You swallowed thickly and looked down at the floor, not being able to bring yourself to meet his eye. You could see his boots; you could see his toes.

But not his face. You didn’t want to see his face. You couldn’t handle the concern.

You could hear him shuffling closer, his hand reaching out slowly and hesitantly. When his finger brushed against your arm, you jerked back, but he didn't let you get too far.

His grip was gentle. So gentle, but it was enough to hold you. Just enough.

It was just your name, just a whisper, but the way he said it made you weak. The way he breathed it out had your knees shaking. You could feel the tears burning the back of your throat; you could feel them gathering in your eyes. They were going to spill over soon, and Steve was the only one who was going to be there to see it. No one else.

"Tell me"

There was a moment where you wanted to fight it. To shove him off and run to your room. To lock yourself away and never come out. But when his thumb rubbed over your cheek, it was the moment that you broke.

Tears spilled over. They flowed freely down your cheeks, dripping from your chin.

Your breath came in harsh pants.

Steve's hands moved to your shoulders. He held you firmly yet gently. His thumbs rub slow circles on the top of your arms.

“Damn it.” You breathed out. “Damn it! Of all the people I slip in front of, why did it have to be you? Why couldn't it have been Tony? Or Nat? Or Sam? Or hell, even Bruce? It had to be you, didn't it, Rogers? It had to be the guy I was trying to avoid. The one person I didn't want to know.”

Your rant was cut off when you felt Steve's fingers under your chin. He tipped your head back and forced you to look at him. He looked down at you with those soft blue eyes, the ones you had been trying to avoid since the start.

They were the only thing that could ever get through to you. They were the only thing that could make your walls come down.

His hand was gentle. It was like he was trying to hold a piece of glass. If he pressed too hard, you would break. And god, did you want to break. You wanted to feel the release, the freedom.

You wanted to feel something, anything other than this pain.

"I'm sorry." You breathed out. "I didn't mean to."

"Don't apologize," He murmured. "Just talk to me."

"Steve-"

"Please." The word was a broken plea. It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.

You bit your bottom lip and looked down at the ground, unable to hold his gaze.

"Please." He repeated. "Let me help."

"It's not that easy." You whispered. You couldn't believe that you were even considering telling him.

"Yes, it is. I'm right here."

You were going to regret this. You didn't want to, but you were going to.

"I can't." You shook your head, a sob rising in your chest. "I can't, Steve. Please don't make me."

“Then tell me how I can help you."

You didn’t know how to respond. How could you possibly tell him how to help?

"I- I don't know."

He sighed and stepped back. For a second, you thought he was going to leave, that he was done with you, but with the way his gaze never left yours, you knew that wasn’t the case.

He reached down and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, tugging you behind him.

You let him. You were too tired to fight back.

Too tired.

Too weak.

He led you out of the gym and through the tower, his pace never once slowing. Not until the both of you were in front of your bedroom door. Then he released his hold on you and stood back, looking at you. His jaw was still clenched, and his hands were balled into fists. You didn't know if it was because of the fact that someone had hurt you or the fact that you were hiding the truth from him.

"Let me in." He said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If not today, then some other time. Let me in."

"Why?" You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Because I care."

"Why?" You repeated, your eyes narrowing. "Why do you care so much?"

"I know what it’s like," He murmured. "To feel the need to hide from the world. To feel the need to bottle everything up inside. You don’t need to do this alone. I don’t know what happened to you, but whatever it is, you can talk to me. Let me in. Tell me the truth."

You shook your head and turned, reaching for the handle, but Steve was faster. His hand shot out and curled around your wrist. He kept you in place.

"Please." He murmured.

The desperation was evident in his voice. The sincerity was, too.

“You want the name that much?” You questioned, keeping your gaze trained on the door.

It was better than facing him.

It was better than seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

It was better than seeing the pity.

It was easier to hide the emotions behind the door, not having to see his reaction.

"I want you to be honest with me. I want you to talk to me. If you’re comfortable giving me the name, then that's your choice. It's always your choice. I won't force you to do anything, but I want to help."

"It's a little late for that," You scoffed, yanking your hand out of his grasp.

He stepped forward, crowding you against the door. You could feel his warmth against your back.

"I didn't know." He murmured, his hand reaching out to brush his fingers against the back of your neck. "Had I known, I would've put a stop to it."

"There's nothing you could've done."

"I could've killed him." He murmured. "That's what I could've done.”

“You don’t kill people, Rogers. It’s not who you are. You know that.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I would stop at nothing to keep you safe. Whoever this is, they aren’t going to lay another hand on you. I promise. They aren’t going to hurt you again, not if I can help it. You have my word."

You could feel the tears pricking the back of your eyes. God, did he have to say such sweet things?

You weren’t sure if it was because he was being a good friend or because he wanted something more, but whatever it was, it had you melting.

"I didn't mean to push you away." You whispered, resting your forehead against the cool metal of the door.

"I know."

"It was instinct. I couldn't-"

"I know."

"How do I fix this?"

"You don't. It takes time. Healing isn't an instant process. It took me a long time to get back to normal… somewhat normal.”

“But—” You began, but the look on Steve's face told you that arguing wasn't going to do you any good.

So you stopped.

"It takes time." He repeated. "But I'm not going anywhere. You can take all the time in the world, and I'll be here waiting. Whenever you're ready."

"I want it to go away."

"I know. Believe me, I know." He murmured.

You felt him shift behind you. His hand pressed flat against your back and rubbed slow circles, the heat seeping through the thin material of your shirt.

You had never felt so safe, not even when you were a child.

Steve's presence alone was enough to calm the anxiety running rampant through your body. You weren't sure what had caused this particular attack, but now that Steve was here, you were hoping it would pass soon.

"What do you need?" He asked softly, his hand running up and down the length of your back.

"You." You croaked out, the words almost getting lost in the fabric of his shirt.

"You have me."

"Promise?"

"Promise," He replied without missing a beat.

You took a deep breath and leaned further into his touch.

"It'll go away soon," He assured. "We can sit down and talk about it when you're ready."

"What if I never want to talk about it?"

"Then we won't. You set the pace, okay? Just… please, don't shut anyone out. Don't shut me out. We— I care about you."

You nodded your head, unable to form the words you wanted to say.

The feeling was mutual. You cared about him too. And maybe, just maybe, you would be willing to open up about this. Maybe even share the name.

Steve does throw a good punch, after all.

[wednesdaynn]

emergency buttons

KINKTOBER 2024

A/N: thinking about doing some more blurb type of kinktober fics, i feel like changing it up a bit makes it more dynamic. anyway tomorrow we finally get into the weird shit.

Summary: steve and you get tired of a party and make your own fun in the elevator. (i've given up on writing proper summaries, i know i can't do it well)

Warning: cunnilingus, rimming, butt stuff, etc...

Pairing: steve rogers x reader

kinktober: Rimming, Fingering/Handjob, Dry Humping

Your dress hugs your curves in all the right ways, Steve had told you so earlier. not that he needed to, his eyes betrayed his every thought. the way they skimmed over your figure, resting on your chest and thighs. He licked his lips and pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth. the blush on his cheek matching the shade of his luscious lips. 

You miss him, he’s been occupied with his fellow agents and others alike during the party Tony had organised for the recent victory of many conquered battles. He’s in the corner of the room, talking about god knows what to god knows who. You can see that he’s trying his best to stay interested in the conversation happening in front of him. But his eyes keep wandering over to you.

Your eyes meet again for the umpteenth time this evening and you shoot him a quick wink. You’re sitting behind the bar with a glass of sweet white wine in your hands. The glass is rimmed with your red lipstick, Steve’s favourite, and a coy smile on your lips. 

He makes quick conversation with the fellows he’s next to and claps on them on the shoulder before moving smoothly between the packed bodies within the room. His pace is quick, and he has a determined look on his face. Making his way towards you. Pulling out a stool next to you, he ushers the bartender over to him and orders a drink. You’re not paying attention to what he orders, your focus is solely on his hand which encases the drink. Strong and big. Memories flooding back to you. You cough softly, trying to erase the thoughts in your mind. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here?” his sweet voice fills the air, like a soothing melody to your ears. You smile softly behind your glass, making eye contact with him. His eyes shift down to your lips and he licks his own subconsciously. 

“Came here for a good time, but it seems I'm at the wrong address…” he hymns at your comment and takes a sip of his drink of choice. The way they wrap around the rim so seamlessly and all you want to do is kiss him silly. “Seems like a waste of time then, huh?” he nods in your direction. 

“Seems like my night is getting better and better.” you flirt back with him, never your strongest suit, but Steve makes you feel like you can talk about making lasagna for dinner and he’d find it sexy. He turns his body around, facing you and he takes you in for a moment. 

The way you're leaning over the bar, delicate hands around the drink, your shoulders on display, perfect for marking up. Your skin is soft and glowing in the overhead lights. He couldn’t find you any sexier than you are right now. Teasing him and playing this game with him. In it for the long haul. Or that was the plan, but it seems like neither of you would be able to abstain from sin. 

The air around you felt different, the atmosphere created by the two of you was suffocating. Short breaths and shortening the distance. Steve takes a quick scan of the room. Scantily dressed women, men wearing half-assed outfits and everybody minding their own business, usually too busy with themselves to notice anybody else. He quickly gulps down his drink and holds out his hand for you to take. 

He drags you along through the crowd, excusing himself to anyone he accidentally runs into. Rushing out of the room. Your feet struggle to keep up with his. Walking through the long corridors, you make your way over to the elevator at the end of the hall. Impatiently you wait side by side, breathing uneven. Your hands are still intertwined and his thumb is rubbing circles into your skin. A sweet touch within a heated moment. Loved and cared. 

The elevator couldn’t come quickly enough and before you know it, he’s pressing you into the mirror at the side, the railing digging into your lower back, but you couldn’t care less. Not with Steve enveloping you entirely, his breath mingled with yours as he kisses you vehemently. His fingers dig into your side as your knee presses into his crotch, putting pressure on where he wants it the most. 

His kisses trail down to your neck and you throw your head back at the satisfying feeling, his lips leaving behind markings on your skin. You grab onto his hair and push him further into your neck, craving the feeling he was giving you. 

The elevator doors open and Steve's hand leaves your side to blindly reach over to the buttons, pressing the “closing doors” button and then continuing to the control buttons to stop the elevator from going anywhere else and being accessed by others. 

Oh shit. 

“Don’t worry, I don't think anyone would dare to look at the camera’s right now” he reassures you, moving his hands to grope your ass. Pulling you further into him, if that’s even possible. He bites your lips softly as he reconnects them, and intertwines his tongue with yours. Your taste is intoxicating him. Craving you, wanting to devour you alive. He feels ignited. 

He pulls away from you swiftly, and his hands find themselves towards your waist, flipping you around. You’re met with the view of both of you in the mirror. Steve looks imposing in the light, his towering figure behind you, cheeks rosy and his lips wet and red-bitten. His hair is a tangled mess on top of his head and he couldn’t look more like the picture of sex. 

You don’t look any better yourself, your dress seems to be hanging on by a thread, your hair seems to be going in every other direction and your lipstick is smudged, lipstick-kiss marks all the way down your neck. 

He kisses the top of your head in an affectionate manner before crouching down and sitting back on his knees. You can just see his head poke out in the mirror. He bunches up your dress in his hands and lifts it up over your hips. He kisses you softly on the back of your thighs. His hands knead at your pliable skin, feeling you up completely. 

He licks a stripe between the crease of your thigh and cheek and trails his mouth along the edge of your panties. The thin material is completely soaked and Steve couldn’t be happier. He could smell you through the fabric, and his resolve was crumbling down. His actions start to become rushed, almost completely ripping off your panties, his strength barely controllable. 

He rolls them down your legs, caressing your skin softly and leaving kisses behind in its wake. Goosebumps rise on your skin and all you can think about is what’s coming next. He slips down your lingerie off of your feet. 

Hands now free and your pussy on complete display for him to devour, he could see the slick catching on your thighs. Your hands are tightly gripped around the railing, anticipating. One of his hands pushes down on your lower back, pressing you further down, and your ass closer to his face, and he lets out a low growl at the sight in front of him. Your glistening pussy all for him. 

His hands grab your ass and spread it apart further, thumbing at your lips. Your hole twitches as he blows a breath on you, clenching around nothing and wanting nothing more than feeling him fill you up. 

He licks a stripe on your pussy, circling your clit as his fingers collect your slick to make sure they’re well coated. He inserts his middle finger and ring finger into you, slowly fingerfucking you open, making sure to stretch you open properly. 

Your breath fogs up the mirror at his administration, it makes your chest burn up. You feel your eyes drooping closed and your hands gripping at the railing in desperation needing to hold onto something while he fingerfucks you open. 

Steve ‘s tongue works wonders on your clit and he circles it and sucks on it. Your stomach feels like it is in knots. Caught up in the daze of this feeling, you push your ass back into his face and he just holds onto you tighter. 

His fingers scissor you open as he licks around your hole, and he sloppily makes out with your cunt and a mix of slick and saliva is coating his lips and chin, making a right mess out of your boyfriend. 

He pulls his finger out of your hole and drags it upwards and a gasp leaves your mouth. While you two had tried to venture out of your comfort zone while having sex, certain things had yet to be discovered. You had mentioned a couple of weeks ago you were interested in trying something new and Steve had been hesitant, clearly not anymore. 

“Can i?” he asks you sweetly while circling a wet finger around your hole and you desperately nod. He pushes his fingertip in, just slightly. Pushing past the rim of your hole. His tongue soon joins, licking around and dipping it in just slightly and you can hear him moan behind you. 

The wet muscle makes you keen as you feel it on your butt, and your hand reaches behind you to grab at Steve's hair to push his head further into you. Moaning at the feeling of him. The warmth of his mouth and the stretch of feeling both his tongue and finger entering you makes you twitch. Your stomach is doing twists and turns. 

He pulls his fingers out and pushes three of them back into your cunt. Slowly inching them in, scissoring you open, intent on making you cum. He licks and slurps and makes disgusting noises as he devours your ass. Wet noises fill the small space of the elevator. He curls his fingers inside of you hitting your g-spot. Massaging the spongy part of your cavern. Both your holes are thoroughly pleasured, with a burning sensation in your core. Slobbering up both your holes and everythings dripping down your legs.

You tighten your hold on Steve's hair as you feel your orgasm nearing, you push back against him, grind on his mouth and ride his finger as you get close. Steve moans into your hole and it’s all you need to cum on his face, slick pours out of you as you cum, thighs twitching and desperately clinging onto Steve and the railing in front of you. 

When you look back at yourself in the mirror in front of you, you see a fucked out face, your eyes are set low and your mouth open with heavy breaths coming out. And Steve stands behind you with a grin as he lowers your dress down. Panties sticking out of his breast pocket and his face is covered in you. 

“Ready for round 2?”

[oublie-eden]

Captain's Orders (Steve Rogers/Reader)

📍NSFW, please don't interact if you're a minor📍

Content: Military kink, light dom/sub dynamic, praise kink, fingering + eating out, smut but it gets a little tender, reader is written as AFAB but no pronouns are used, bearded Steve for the pookies

Words: 2,628

You were late. At this point, you weren’t even fashionably late. You were ‘Wow, look at the time, I’ve gotta get home’ late. The last you’d checked, the time on your car’s dashboard had read a little after 3 AM as you drove home from an outing with your friends.

Parking at your apartment’s garage, you made your way up to the flat you shared with your boyfriend, Steve. Given the hour, you expected him to be asleep in bed. You had, after all, sent him a text that you’d be out a little later and for him not to wait up on you. Unlocking the door, you slipped in, nudging your shoes off and onto the rack by the door. The flat was dark and quiet except for a shaft of moonlight which had managed to find its way through a crack in the blackout curtains. Needless to say, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Steve’s smooth baritone voice reverberated through the kitchenette.

“Back so soon?” Tilting his head so far back that you could almost call it a loll, he flicked on the light, revealing him leaned languidly against the counter. That wasn’t quite true. Languid would imply that he was relaxed, though every line of Steve’s posture radiated warning. He sipped at a mug of coffee, his blue eyes keen on yours over the rim.

You couldn’t help it: you blinked in confusion. “Huh? I texted that I’d be back late.”

“No, sweetheart, you didn’t.”

“Really, I could’ve swore that….” Tugging your phone from your pocket, you thumbed through the various icons until you found your texts. Your lips parted in surprise as you opened the chat. The message sat, unsent, with a glaring red ‘Draft’ hovering by it. “Oh, shit.”

Setting the empty mug in the sink, he stood and crossed his arms across his broad chest in the way that only he could. Steve’s brows creased in that concerned little movement he always did. “Where were you? You said you’d text if you were going to be out late.”

“Um, I just…got caught up in talking.” You gnawed at your lip and glanced away from him. “We stopped at a 24 hour diner and sat there for a bit.”

A long sigh left his lips and you found yourself oddly entranced by the way his mouth turned downwards at the corners. It wasn’t the kind of mouth you’d call lush or even sensual, but hell if his frown of disapproval didn’t make something rise in you. “You went out at 9, and now you’re back.” His large fingers twitched at his sides. “Do you know what time it is? Do you know how worried I was?”

Even now, his voice was rich as syrup, smooth and full-bodied. Cautiously, you demurely looked up at him through your lashes and decided to pull the subservient card. Though Steve had never said as such, you’d long had a theory that he’d enjoy you calling him by his old rank. “No, Captain.”

Steve’s breath hitched and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. It seemed your little theory was correct. Your eyes trailed the cords of muscle that made up his neck. Something about Steve had always reminded you of a carved god, freed from the marble block by the hands of a master artist. Idly, you wondered whose work he reminded you of. Bernini, maybe? That seemed about right from your art classes, but you didn’t have much time to consider the idea. “...What did you just say?” His tone swung low, daring you to repeat yourself.

“I said, no, Captain.”

“Then maybe I should show you how worried I was.” His jaw clenched subtly, but he analyzed you from head to toe like he had all the time in the world. “Is that alright, doll?”

You didn’t even have to think before the next words popped out of your mouth. “Yes, sir.”

That did it. Steve’s body moved, fluid as a dancer’s, to stand at attention. “What’s your safe word?”

“It’s ‘red’.”

Steve arched one thick eyebrow at you and your cheeks heated. He didn’t even have to speak to correct you.

“It’s ‘red’, sir.” You enunciated the last word just to see the muscle in his jaw flex. Among the many things your boyfriend was good at, he was particularly excellent at making you breathless with the simplest motions of his face.

His stare turned assessing again and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. When he said your name, his tone was almost sweet, though it quickly swung into an authoritative snap. “Attention.”

Your mind stalled before finally, your horny brain realized what he was requesting-no, ordering you to do. You stood up straight, arms at your sides, trying to keep your gaze directed forward and not look at your boyfriend. The heat of his body washed over you like a wave as he moved to stand behind you. Steve had once given you a demonstration of the various commands, but damn, it’d been a while and you were eager to follow his every word.

“Don’t move, love, and don’t speak unless I ask you a question.” He bent his head, his chapped lips ghosting over your cheek. He dipped lower to graze a kiss along the soft spot right behind your jaw and the slight prickle of his beard sent a shock right to your core. You must have jolted because he sighed. “I said, don’t move.”

Obediently, you stood still, and his hum of appreciation rumbled against your skin. “There we go. You’re so good for me, so gorgeous when you follow orders.” His mouth continued its path down your neck and you had to press your lips together to avoid letting out a pathetic mewl of arousal. He chuckled and despite not being able to see him, you knew he was smiling at you fondly. “Someone seems a little uncomfortable. Parade rest.”

You almost tripped over your own feet in your haste to obey. Spreading your feet to hip width apart, you folded your hands behind your back. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were silently grateful he had afforded some measure of release as far as your posture was concerned. He clicked his tongue and nudged your feet further apart with one of his boots. “Better.” In a single stride, he stood in front of you. A bolt of surprise went through you and he offered up a reassuring smile. Even in this persona, he was gentle with you.

Kneeling on the floorboards, his hands found your hips, and then his deft fingers were lowering the zipper of your pants. You stifled a jump when he tugged the fabric down around your thighs. His index finger traced a path over your barely clothed skin and lightly stroked the fabric between your thighs, which felt like it was growing wetter by the second.

“Already? I’ve barely started.” Steve teased, and your underwear joined the pile of discarded clothing. He groaned low in his throat at the sight of your exposed pussy and nuzzled against the triangle of curls that crowned it. “You’re so beautiful.”

In a moment of weakness, you whimpered, a plea for him to hurry up. “Captain…” Your indiscretion was met by a light swat to your ass, a reminder to keep quiet. You pressed your lips together and Steve hummed appreciatively, the sound rumbling through you.

“There we go.” His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he buried his face in your cunt, his beard grazing over your swollen folds, letting his tongue trail a stripe between them. Teasingly, he pressed a kiss to the skin above your clit purely for the joy of feeling you shudder in anticipation. If you hadn’t been so incredibly turned on by all this, you’d have begged him to stop teasing you. In a moment of mercy, he delicately circled your clit with the tip of his tongue and gave it a flick. Your eyelids fluttered, desperately trying not to close. Maybe you should stay out later more often if this was what happened after. Steve was a man who was fastidious in everything he did, and fucking you was no exception.

Continuing to lavish licks and sucks on you, he mumbled half heard praises between your legs, groaning in ecstasy as if he was the one being worshipped. “Fuck…you taste so good…I could do this forever, sunshine, if you’d let me.”

Your thighs trembled beneath the onslaught and he simply grasped your thighs in his calloused palms and tugged them over his shoulders. You whined in surprise as your feet left the ground and he balanced you on his broad shoulders like you weighed nothing, your hands fisting in his sandy blond hair. Steve should have punished you for that, but he was too far gone in the heady taste and scent of you, feasting on you like he was a man starved for water in the desert.

“Oh, I remember you liked this last time…” He mumbled, and his teeth grazed over your sensitive bundle of nerves, immediately before plunging his tongue deep in you. Nearly wailing, you bucked your hips harder against his face. Steve groaned, an almost primal sound, and you had a brief moment’s satisfaction at knowing America’s golden boy captain was on his knees devouring you with abandon. Your thighs clamped around his head and you tugged harder on the strands captured in your fingertips at the familiar heat building in you.

“Stevie, please, I’m gonna…” You panted, trying to voice the simple phrase. “Please?”

“I know, baby, I know. Relax, let me take care of you.”

He kept on with his unrelenting pace, even when you squirmed and moaned, his grip on your thighs steady. You threw your head back, lips parted to beg, but you didn’t even know what you were asking for at this point. Your pussy convulsed as you climaxed, but Steve didn’t stop. His licks and kisses gradually slowed until he gently let you fall into his waiting arms. Your arousal was smeared across his lips and in his beard, but he was grinning triumphantly.

“Please just fuck me?” You whispered, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“I was hoping you’d ask that.” He was already standing and carrying you to the bedroom. Your lips met his and you hummed at the taste of yourself that lingered on him. Kicking the door closed behind him, he dropped you onto the bed. You pouted as he pulled back, but he only chuckled. “Be patient. I can’t exactly do this with clothes on.”

Steve kicked off his boots and nudged his jeans to the floor. Reaching behind him, he tugged his shirt up and over his head, leaving him in only his briefs. You couldn’t help but stare at him, the rounded muscles of his pecs, the thighs thickened with muscle, the fine honey-coloured trail of hair that led down his navel and disappeared beneath his waistband. Fuck, you wanted to map every tantalizing centimeter of that trail with your mouth. You leaned forward, intent on getting what you wanted, but he gently pressed a hand to your chest and pushed you back onto the bed.

You huffed up at him and his ensuing look made your breath catch in your throat. His expression dared you to move without permission again. “Do you want me to fuck you or not, doll?”

“Yeah…” Ducking your head, you squirmed, tossing your own shirt aside. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will. You’ve got a smart mouth on you, but you like being good for me, don’t you?” His fingers tilted your chin up and you could only nod silently. “Atta baby.”

Guiding your hands to his hips, he crooked your fingers under his waistband and you eagerly pulled the material down his legs. His cock sprang free and for a moment, you simply stared at it. As many times as you two fucked, you had to wonder how much work the serum had done, because Steve was hung. Long and thick, it was nestled in a neatly trimmed patch of that same honey-coloured curls, the veins prominent and begging to be licked. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Steve was going to let you suck his dick tonight. Bummer.

Before you could be too bummed out, he retrieved a condom from the nightstand and tore the packaging open, rolling the latex down over his length. He lay back on the bed and gave you an encouraging nod, patting his thighs in a silent request. You obliged, straddling his hips and brushing your folds over his cock. Steve let his head fall back against the pillows and he gripped your hip, letting you brace your weight against him. Slowly, you sank down onto him, groaning at how he filled you just right.

He matched your groan with one of his own, his angelic face contorted with pleasure. You allowed yourself a moment to acclimate, but quickly, your ass slammed up and down against his thighs in a punishing pace. His frame shuddered and he put your hands on his pecs. “You think you can come again for me, sweetheart?”

“Uh…uh-huh.” You bit your lip, bringing your hips up only to clamp around him with your cunt again. His fingers slid between you and he stroked your already overstimulated clit, circling it with the pad of his thumb. You mewled, your nails raking down his chest in a way you knew would leave marks in the morning, but you couldn’t find it in you to care when Steve felt like this.

His other hand guided your hips, bringing you down onto his cock and his caressing fingers, over and over again, the way the sea returns to the shore. You buried your face in his shoulder, biting down into the firm muscle of his neck, tasting the salt on his skin. He gasped and increased the pressure of his ministrations. “That’s it, use me, fuck yourself on me.”

And who were you to deny such a simple request? Your hips returned home to his like they’d been made to nestle there, a breathy “oh” escaping you at the slick feeling of each inch pounding into you. The heat rose again and your nails carved more gouges over his chest.

“I…I’ll…”

“I know, come for me. Let yourself go.” You convulsed around him, crying out, and he stroked you through the aftershocks. He moved to lift you off of him, but your hand shot out, gripping his hair.

Your eyes stared fiercely into his. “No, cum in me.” He swallowed, fucking himself up into you. Eyes half lidded, his hands cupped yours where they lay on his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“Fuck, shit, you feel so good.” Rasping the words, he pinned your hips down against his as his back arched off the bed. He made a low, broken sound when he came and collapsed amidst the rumpled sheets. You smiled at him, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from his forehead, and he gave you a smile of such complete and utter adoration that it made your heart melt.

He chuckled to himself and grinned, all pearly teeth. “You know, I’m still not pleased you came home late.”

“Shit, if that’s you ‘not pleased’, I’ll do it more often.”

“Mm, maybe you should.” The two of you lapsed into a contented silence, your hands now gentle as you cleaned the sweat and arousal away, curled into each other. Steve pressed a drowsy kiss to the top of your head and you let yourself drift off, safe and warm.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Teddy Bear Picnic - Three

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: If you go down in the woods today you’re sure of a big surprise. - The one where you give in.

Warnings: Dark fic, dark themes, dub con, language, violence, kidnapping, injuries, eventual smut, 

Word Count: 1.2K

A/n: Short lil chapter, we'll be getting into more real stuff soon. I hope y'all enjoy!

!!This is a Dark Fic with Triggering and Sexual Content. Read at Own Risk!!

~*~

He doesn't come back with food that night.

In fact, you don't see him for over a week.

For the first several days you stay exactly where he left you, but eventually you need to use the bathroom.

It proves to be a challenge to do much of anything with your arms bound behind you the way you are, but you manage to turn the water on and stick your head under the faucet, drinking small sips of the leaky tap water in a pathetic attempt at stopping your stomach from digesting itself.

When he finally does come down the stairs, he does so with a bowl of soup in his hand.

You're slumped against the cool concrete floor, cheek pressed to the damp ground as your body threatens to shut down.

You peel an eye open and watch as he stands in front of you for a long while before crouching down.

"Will you be good?"

You only close your eye and pray that death takes you in the next few seconds.

"Oh, look at you, poor thing. Now, whose fault is this?" He asks softly.

Slowly, you pry open your eyes and look up at him, licking your cracked dry lips.

"I'll be good," you croak, voice weak and hoarse.

He nods, his eyes softening the tiniest bit.

"Yeah, I bet you will. Sit up."

It takes you a while to feel your body again, but eventually you manage to push yourself into a seated position, head tilted back against the wall.

"Open up."

You obey, opening your mouth as he brings a spoonful of soup up to your lips.

An audible moan leaves you when it hits your tongue, and you eagerly swallow it down and open your mouth for more.

You're not sure if it's simply because you haven't eaten in days, but this is the most delicious meal you've ever had and you're greedy for more.

He gives you another spoonful, pulling back when you immediately open your mouth for more.

"Slow down. I don't want you to make yourself sick."

You shake your head desperately and lean forward, only for him to pull it further from you.

"Please, more. I'm so hungry, please," you beg, tears filling your eyes at the thought of him depriving you of this delicious soup.

"Shhh, none of that now, honey. I won't take it away as long as you're good for me, okay?"

You nod desperately, opening your mouth when he lifts the spoon once again.

Silent tears trek down your cheeks as he continues spoon-feeding you until the bowl is empty.

Your stomach feels better, and now all you want is a glass of water, a hot shower, and to sleep for the rest of your life.

It's quiet for a while, and his heavy gaze eventually gets too uncomfortable for you to sit under.

"Thank you for the soup," you finally whisper.

Having spent so many days alone, you crave human interaction. And right now, you don't really care who that human is.

"What's in it?"

Your question surprises your captor and he looks at you with bewildered eyes before clearing his throat and glancing at the empty bowl.

"Chicken and vegetables. The veggies are from my garden and I know a butcher a few towns over - he always gives me fresh meat."

You nod slowly, his words processing in your head.

"You have a garden," you whisper. The idea of him gardening, doing something so normal, is unnerving. It makes him seem more human.

"That... that's nice. I used to garden," you confess, eyes on your fingers as you begin to ramble. "Mostly flowers, but I planted some tomatoes last year that did pretty well. I've always wanted to really get into gardening but... I guess I never really had the time between school and work and... life." All things you no longer need to worry about. But you don't say that last part lest you anger him.

His face softens and he leans forward, eager to learn more about you and happy that you finally have something in common. Something to bond over.

"What do you grow?" You ask, lifting your gaze to his. You're surprised by the softness in his eyes. Gone is that horrible anger, the monstrous rage that was there the last time you saw him. It's like he's a completely different person.

He seems to relax even further as you continue speaking, asking him things. Trying to get to know him.

"Lots and lots of herbs. I like to make my own tea. I also grow lettuce... carrots, beets, and onions. I've got a strawberry patch and some rhubarb as well, but I have a hard time finding good recipes with rhubarb that I like."

"I've heard it's good in pies with berries," you whisper, dropping your gaze as your bottom lip starts to wobble.

Your grandmother used to make a delicious strawberry rhubarb pie.

"Maybe one day you can take over the garden for me."

Your eyes snap back up to his, tears drying at his words.

His eyes are guarded, but still kind.

"You... you'd let me?" You ask softly, waiting for him to laugh and tell you it was a joke. To beat you and hurt you and make you cry again.

He chuckles, reaching forward to push some of your hair behind your ear, frowning when you flinch away instinctively.

He lowers his hand with a sigh and shakes his head, looking down at his hands.

"I don't want to keep you in the basement forever, honey. I want you to be happy here. I want to trust you enough to give you free rein of the house but... I can't do that yet."

You nod your understanding.

As fucked up as the situation is, it makes sense. How could he trust you when you tried to run? You wouldn't trust you either.

"Is this... is this my home now?"

He nods, a sort of bittersweet smile on his face.

"It is, sweetheart. And I'll show you around one day... when I can trust you. But until then, you need to stay down here."

You sniffle but nod again, dropping your eyes to the ground.

"Can you... can you untie me, at least? Please. It's just... it's hard to go to the bathroom like this and it-it hurts."

He watches you closely, brows drawing together as he weighs the pros and cons.

Last time he trusted you, you proved you were undeserving. But you seem like you've genuinely learned from that.

"Turn around."

You obey as quickly as you can, wanting to prove to him that you'll listen. You'll be good.

He unties your hands gently, and you shiver when his fingers dust over the back of your neck. You allow him to move you, groaning at the ache in your muscles as he slowly releases your arms.

"You'll want to stretch," he says quietly, taking a step back and watching as you turn back around.

You slowly stretch your arms out, wincing at the pinching pain, needles poking at your fingertips as you regain feeling in them.

You stay seated on the ground, moving very slowly when you need to, showing him that you're going to listen, to obey.

He seems pleased with this, scooping the bowl up off of the floor and walking toward the stairs.

"I'll be back later with dinner." He pauses and shoots a small glance over his shoulder, "I promise."

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Happy Now? | Captain Rogers & Agent Brat AU | Steve Rogers x Reader | Drabble - 500words

If Steve thinks he's getting away with giving you a shitty mission he has another thing coming…

Warnings: Bratty reader & Brat Tamer Steve, implied previous sexual content, kissing

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Captain Rogers & Agent Brat AU | Steve Rogers

You followed Steve out of the briefing room, taking an extra half step for each of his long strides.

“Get back here!” You shouted, ignoring the ringing echo of your voice in the wide metal atrium of the Avengers tower.

“Agent, please take your mission pack and study it quietly.” He tossed a quick glance over his shoulder and you caught a glimpse of his newly bearded cheeks, stubble that had grown out during your last mission together and the following two weeks stuck in a safe house in the Alps.

“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m talking to you.” You grabbed a pen from another passing agent and chucked it as hard as you could at his retreating back, internally screaming when it merely bounced off of his shield.

From the incline of his head you were almost 100% sure he was laughing at you.

Picking up your pace you followed him away from the meeting rooms and across the building to the offices, chasing after him as he strode past your colleagues, touching his fingers to his forehead in a casual salute.

You caught up to him outside of the lifts, watching him bounce on his toes slightly as he whistled to himself.

“Steve!” You muscled past the other waiting agents to stand directly in front of him, crossing your arms and glaring up at him in frustration.

“Oh, hello Agent.” He smiled, “lovely to see you here too, going up?”

The doors pinged behind you and Steve moved you backwards into the waiting lift.

“This one’s full.” He said, firmly, blocking anyone else from entering, his smile morphed from his PR friendly pose to the hungry grin you were used to. He said nothing, simply watched you as you paced back and forth in front of the rapidly changing view as the lift shot up to the living quarters.

“Steve, you can’t bench me, you know I’m a good agent, I don’t understand it, we just got back from another mission. Do you think because we’re sleeping together I can’t perform as well as other agents? Or as well as I did before?” You ranted, waving your hands and barely stopping to look at him until he blocked your path.

“It’s hot when you talk back.” He whispered, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Rogers you had better not be trying something right now.” You shoved at him, but he caught your hands and pulled you back, crushing his lips to yours. His kiss was fierce, burning as his beard rubbed against the soft skin of your cheeks, a reminder of how much closer you’d been before returning to the bustle of the tower. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around his neck before remembering your ire and pushing him away again.

His smile was still plastered to his face, only slightly ruffled by your rejection.

“Seriously, you can’t bench me and then -”

“I told you to check your mission pack.”

“Steve, stop being an asshole.”

“Honey, stop being a brat”

He pulled the black folder from your hands and flipped past the first few pages to the confidential file fitted snugly between the usual boring beige pages of desk work that he’d handed out earlier.

“Happy now?”

You nodded, jumping back into his arms and placing kisses over his bearded cheeks

[i-mushi]

I wrote a thing called Daddy Fantasies

First time doing the Daddy Dom thing, thanks @leucineinthesky for starting me down this rabbit hole.

Read on Ao3!

“Come on, we’re going.”

“Do we have to?” You wiggled down into your spot in the couch, loathe to get up. Sure, you’d been planted here most of the day, but Alpine was curled up next to you, and you had your next episode cued up already. You’d made the perfect indent for your butt and a nest with your blanket.

“Yes, we do.” Steve’s chin tilted up just the slightest, and now he was looking down his chin at you, the corners of his mouth pulling down. You felt your belly swoop with a mix of shame and arousal. You was being a brat. “They took care of Alpine while we were all gone for the weekend, this is the least we can do.”

“You’re right,” you said, failing to hide your pout even as you finally started to untuck yourself from the blankets. Steve offered a hand to leverage you up from the couch, tugging you into him when you were standing. You pressed your forehead to his firm chest to hide your grumbling, even though you knew this was the right thing to do.

“They’ll be a treat for you when we get home,” he promised, brushing his lips lightly over your temple. You looked up, and he flashed you a small, indulgent smile. “But we’re staying at least two hours.”

There went any chance of staying up late to finish one more episode. Steve was relentless when he wanted to be, and getting enough sleep was one of his things. “Okay. I guess I should put on a bra.”

“It’s a lazy night in with an old friend,” he replied, hand sliding down to your ass in the leggings you’d been lounging in and giving you a squeeze. “A sweatshirt is fine.” Your smile turned a bit impish, and he gave you a swat on the ass before you could make a smart remark. “You’ll definitely need shoes though.”

As nice as it had been to see your friend, you were glad the short visit was over. You said your goodbyes and walked hand-in-hand to the car, Steve’s big palm dwarfing yours. Steve opened the passenger door but didn’t let go of your hand when you went to go inside, a silent order to stop. You turned to him, and he was looking down at you with a flicker of pride in his eyes. He squeezed your hand and kissed your forehead softly. “Good girl.”

A shudder went down your spine and heat pooled in your belly, the pleasure of being good, being right, making him happy thrumming through you as you got into the car. Steve could make your mind go fuzzy with just a few words.

As soon as he had the car going, his hand landed on your thigh, the weight of it grounding, as he turned out of the drive and headed down the road.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“No, you were right,” you admitted, voice low. “I’m glad we went.”

His thumb started to rub your leg lightly, just a gentle brush of his callouses against the thin fabric of your leggings. “You’re being very good tonight.”

“You did say a reward might be involved,” you reminded him, biting your lip to hide a slightly nervous giggle.

“I did, didn’t I?” Steve smirked at you, glancing over as they pulled up to a red light. “What does the good girl want? Ice cream? A massage?”

You put your hand over his, lacing your fingers together. It was always hard for you to ask directly for what you wanted. You were feeling brave tonight after all this praise though. “You, tonight?” You swallowed nervously and hurried on, “And I know we just sent a message to Bucky two days ago, but can we send another? He didn’t respond to the last one.”

The last few sentences came out in an embarrassed jumble, trying to hide your real request. Steve or Bucky were the ones who usually initiated anything, it just seemed to come so naturally to them. Your therapist had been encouraging you to ask for what you wanted, and while it was hard to put into words exactly what you’d been fantasizing about, you could start with this.

…Maybe later you’d ask to be called good girl more. Or to call him—

“You only have to ask, sweetie,” Steve said, flashing you an encouraging smile before turning back to the road. “And I know he’s on minimal contact, but I have an idea of what we can send him. Something that won’t be a problem with security.”

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

While Steve or Bucky were away on missions, any messages from home had to be heavily encrypted, and the words run through software to detect any data breaches or classified information. You had sent plenty of short messages to Steve and Bucky before while they were on missions, but this time Steve wanted to send a message without words.

“Ooooooh St—” Steve’s hand clamped on your jaw, shutting your mouth with firm, gentle pressure that had your heart racing with excitement. He had you rolled on one side, facing the phone set up on the nightstand to record audio, while he laid stretched out behind you, his hard cock pressed to your back.

“What did I say? No words,” he breathed against your ear. Then he bit the lobe and released your jaw, leaving you panting as he caught your nipple between two fingers and tugged.

“Mmmm, oh, oh…” You whined, zings of mixed pain/pleasure lighting you up until he finally released the abused nub to slide his hand down further, rough fingers scraping over your soft belly. You hissed as he slipped two thick fingers over your pussy to rub your clit.

“Good and wet,” he rumbled, biting against your neck when you gasped at the sucking noise of his fingers between your nether lips. Your skin was flushed with heat, and you squirmed with thrilled embarrassment when you opened your eyes to see the big red record button flashing on the phone screen. Your cunt spasmed with need and you moaned brokenly. Steve groaned low in answer, lightly thrusting against your back, smearing precum into your skin.

Your rough panting turned harsher as he squeezed your breast and penetrated you with one finger. You hissed when he started to flick his thumb rhythmically against your clit in time with the gentle thrusts. “Ah, ah, ah—” You wanted to say his name but cut it off into a wordless moan as a second finger joined the first. The stretch ached in the best of ways, his calloused fingers rubbing all the right spots inside you. Your toes curled as he kept thrumming your clit, driving that heat inside you hotter and hotter and your voice higher and higher.

“Louder, sweetie,” he murmured against your ear, and you shamelessly lifted your leg over his hip, spreading yourself wider down there. Now the squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of you pounded in your ears, the burning need to come rising inside you. Steve started to roll and pinch your nipple with his other hand as a third finger joined the others, and you could barely hear your constant panting, whining, and breathless moaning over the roar in your ears.

Your hips jerked with every thrust, trying to match his pace, frantic to find the peak. Steve kept up the relentless pressure as his mouth moved back to your ear, voice so soft you could barely hear him with your blood pounding with your pulse. “Imagine Bucky listening to this, baby girl. Coming so beautifully, so loud. Say his name, sweetie. Be a good girl and come for your daddies.”

It didn’t matter how Steve knew; you came apart with a cry of Bucky’s name, shaking and moaning as your daddy milked you through it, safe and wanted and tenderly pushed over the edge in his big arms as pleasurable fire burned through you. Your stuttering cries and groans finally gave way to panting gasps for air, like your lungs had seized you’d come so hard. As you laid there on the bed trying to catch your breath, brain fuzzy with pleasure and a happy confusion that Steve had known, there was the unmistakable sound of slurping and licking as Steve cleaned his three fingers. Red bloomed on your cheeks, but you barely had time to consider that before Steve slid his weeping, rock hard cock between your thighs and encouraged you to tighten your legs.

He grunted as he started to thrust, breath harsh against your ear, and you could hear the hot sound of him sliding against your skin, still wet from your release. You felt a new wave of heat fill you as he ground against your clit, and you rocked your hips with him until the bed squeaked beneath you.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured quietly, hand tight on your hip, never enough to bruise but strong enough to remind you he easily could.

“O-ohhh—” Steve kissed you before you could think about saying any other words, swallowing them whole so the audio could only pick up the filthy sounds of your kissing, the wet squelch between your thighs, and the creak of the bed with each thrust.

It didn’t take him long to finish, panting hard until he was finally spurting and moaning your name. Steve coated the sheets and your pussy with his hot cum, and you groaned too, gasping out his name as you came a second time. Both of you collapsed after that, Steve laying half on top of you, a welcome weight, until finally he reached an arm out for the phone.

“Night, Buck,” he said, and hit stop. He dropped the phone on the nightstand and curled his arm around you, cuddling you to his chest. “You okay, baby girl?”

“Yeah,” you said, sated to the bones in a way you didn’t know you could be. A way you suspected came from certain fantasies that had gone unfulfilled until tonight. You almost didn’t want to ask to break the moment, but as both of your breaths started to settle you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep without asking. “Steve, how… how did you…”

“Been thinking about it for a while. Buck noticed it first, the dynamic. What you need. To be cared for, small. You liked it, right?”

“So much,” you breathed out, heart pounding hard at what Steve was saying. You grabbed his hand on your stomach, and he kissed your cheek.

“Good girl.”

A ripple of pleasure went through you, and Steve’s chuckle was so low you could feel the vibration against your back.

“Buck’ll be mad I didn’t wait for him to get back. But we’ll make it up to him, won’t we?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

[heyitsme1040]

The Ring of Time [s.r]

summary : Steve comes back to you after returning the infinity stones. He made a stop in the forties, and brought back something important for the both of you. 

pairings : Steve Rogers x Reader

warnings : None (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 530

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day seventeen of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘heirloom’.

“Be careful,” you whisper to Steve as you hug him before he goes to return the infinity stones. 

“I will,” he promised. “See you in a few minutes.”

You stepped away from the hug and stood next to Bucky. You watched as he stepped onto the pad, checking his watch. Between one breath and the next Steve disappeared. You shifted closer to Bucky, waiting on Steve to return. 

“Be honest with me?” You turned to face Bucky. 

“What’s up?” Bucky keeps his eyes focused on the pad. 

“Is he coming back?”

Bucky opens his mouth to respond, but before he can Bruce says, “Here he comes. He’s back in three…two…one…now.”

He presses some keys at the control panel, but nothing happens. Your heart sinks, your biggest fear feeling real. Steve left you. You turn away from the pad, wiping at the tears that are starting to gather. You begin to walk away. 

“Wait,” Bucky places his hands on your shoulder. “He’s coming back.”

You try to force your way out of Bucky’s hold, “He’s not! He went back to the past, Bucky. He had the chance to live the life he missed out on. Why would he come back?” You shouted.

“Because you’re here,” you heard Steve’s voice. 

You turn around, surprised to see Steve stepping off of the pad. He takes long strides toward you, gently tugging you against him from Bucky’s hold. He tucks your head beneath his chin, wrapping his arms around you securely. You cry harder, holding onto him.

“I promised you it’d be a few minutes,” Steve comforted you. 

“Bruce was timing you. You didn’t come back when he calculated,” you rambled. 

“I had to make an extra stop before coming back.”

“Peggy?” 

“No,” Steve moved to look you in the eye. “Not Peggy.”

Steve’s tone alone let you know how serious he was being. 

You furrowed your brows, “Where did you go then?”  

Steve removed one hand from around you and reached into his pocket. “I had to get something I left in the forties.” Steve pulled out a beautiful set of rings, holding them out to you. “These were my parents’ rings. I wanted to get them back, so I could do this.”

Steve dropped to one knee in front of you and held your hands. You smiled, nodding as he spoke. 

“You’re it for me, sweetheart. I used to think I knew what I wanted out of life. Then I was frozen and awoke in a world I couldn’t recognize. Everything was different and I didn’t fit in this world anymore. I had no idea what I wanted out of life anymore. Then I met you, and everything made sense. The world didn’t look so foreign anymore, and I knew you were the one. So, would you do me the honor of becoming your husband?” Steve proposed.

“Yes,” you cupped his cheeks. “Absolutely yes!”

Steve leaned forward, connecting your lips. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him back. You were faintly aware of the team clapping and whistling coming from where you left Bucky. All of that didn’t matter to you, your focus remaining solely on Steve. 

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[tryingmybestpls]

Fourth of July

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Bucky visits the cemetery the first since Steve funeral, but he isn’t the only one that’s mourning on the Fourth of July.

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: R

Warnings: Grief, self-harm, depression, death, mourning, mentions of infidelity

A/N: Listen, this has been in the works for a year, but I’ve been redoing this whole time. I wrote it listening to “Fourth of July” by Sufjan Stevens. Slight AU because I like to think that Bucky didn’t know that Steve was gonna do that shit. 

It was humid in the city, making it feel a lot hotter than it actually was. He had started to sweat under the sweater he had pulled on and he tried his best to ignore the discomfort. The slight breeze made the various red, white, and blue decorations flap in the wind and carried the scent of someone grilling nearby. Hot dogs, he thinks.

As the sun started to set, the smell of gunpowder started to fill the air as the streetlights started to flicker on. Children ran past him as he walked on the sidewalk, sparklers held high in their hands. They giggled and laughed, their families yelling at them to be more careful. The man just keeps on walking, quickly crossing the street as soon as his destination came into the view.

Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his cap covered head down as he walks into graveyard, gravel crunching under his feet. He hasn't been here since the funeral and he didn't really want to come today, but he knew he should.

A part of him still wanted to scream at his best friend, wants to ask him what was so special about Peggy Carter that he had to go and upend so many lives. The other part of him just wants to stand there and cry, mourn the loss of his best friend, his brother, the only tie to he had to his old life.

Yet, someone had beat him to it to that second one.

He didn't expect her to be kneeling there in front of the shining marble headstone, her body as still as the statues that dotted the cemetery. She doesn't hear him, or possibly just chooses to ignore that someone else was here to mourn over the same person today. He can see that she's saying something, but even with his super hearing he can't hear it.

Bucky stopped in his tracks, not knowing exactly what to do in this situation. Should he let her be, let her mourn? Should he call Sam and ask her to come sit with her? Raynor hadn't prepared him for this. He was barely getting his own feelings under control, so how was he supposed to help anyone else? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He had only met her a handful of times, with most of them being before a fight. The first time that he had met her, the first time he actually can fully remember meeting her, was after the mess in Berlin, when his arm was caught in a vice because none of them knew if he was still Bucky. She had smiled at him and said in a saccharine sweet voice, “I will not hesitate to put you six feet under if you do that shit again, understood?”. It was after that comment, after Sam and Steve had both look at her almost in shock, that the latter had introduced her as his wife.

Before he knows it, his feet are carrying him towards her, his footsteps almost silent on the grass until a twig snaps and announces his approach. Y/N's back straightens, her body tensing. Bucky's feet don't stop though, not until he is standing right behind her. She keeps her eyes locked on his headstone, tears having left black colored tracks on her cheeks.

"Are you alright?" Bucky questions, immediately kicking himself for how stupid his question was. Of course she wasn't fucking alright. The woman was crying at her lover's grave on the man's birthday. You're a fucking idiot, James Buchanan Barnes. He watches as her eyes shut and she tilts her chin upward every so slightly, letting out a shaky breath. In the distance, fireworks go off, shimmering in the sky.

"You don't have to say anything-It's okay." He quickly replies, knowing that he wouldn't want to open up to someone that he hardly knew. Y/N sighs, her eyes fluttering open and she looks back down at the slab of marble. In front of it was dozens and dozens of offerings. Flags, small shields, candles, plastic red, white, and blue flowers, action figures of the man himself-all left by people they didn't know.

"I didn't think anyone was going to be here. I thought that since it was getting dark that everyone was going to be watching the fireworks." She tells him, her eyes scanning over the words on the headstone over and over again, as if the name was going to change, "I guess I was wrong."

"I didn't want him to be alone on his birthday." She cuts through his thoughts with a knife, stopping him in his tracks. Her voice sounds small, almost faraway as she continues, "I didn't want to come, didn't want to be here, but-but, I knew he shouldn't be alone on his birthday. No one should be alone on their birthday."

Red explodes in the sky, bathing them both in scarlet. Another flies past it- a green one this time-and bursts as the other fades, just as Bucky takes a seat beside her. He gives her ample space  as he tries to get comfortable on the grass.

"No, no he shouldn't." Bucky echoes as he picks up a small action figure of Steve. The eyes are slightly crooked and the colors of his suit have been discolored by the sun, "Did he ever let you throw him a party? I tried, but the punk never let me. Always told me that we shouldn’t waste money on shit like that."

"A couple of times, but nothing too big. Just something small, no gifts, no frills." She answers, a faint smile appearing on her face, "Always gave me something to do. I've never been patriotic."

A bright white firework exploded in the sky, making it look like a thousand more stars had suddenly burst into existence before flickering out.

"You aren't patriotic but you married him?" He questions, holding the action figure in the air. She her smile grows ever so slightly as she shakes her head, her eyes turning towards the sky. Bright blue illuminates her, turning her cobalt for a few seconds.

"I see the irony in it too, don't worry."

There's a moment of silence between them. He looks away from her, his eyes focusing back on the headstone in front of them. The noise of the city celebrating still sounds then, the whistles of the fireworks flying into the sky, the cheers of happy children.

She had disappeared after the funeral.

No more public engagements, no more paparazzi shots. Sam had said that she hadn't been calling, hadn't talked to him at all since they laid Steve to rest. The lights were always off at the house she used to share with him in Brooklyn, but they knew she was home.

She didn't have anywhere else to go.

Her friends were either dead or spread to the wind. Her team was gone, splintered far beyond repair. She would’ve had her husband, but he had made his choice and now she sleeps in a bed that’s too big for her, in a house that’s too quiet, too empty.

"Do you think-Do you think we are allowed to be mad at him?" Her voice is no louder than a whisper when she decides to speak. Her eyes once more on the slab of marble, looking at it like the man himself was sitting there with them. She continues, her eyes watery, "I don't-I've been trying not to be angry with him, but I can't."

"I think so. He-He kind of screwed us over, didn't he?" Bucky answers, turning his head to look at her once more. Her thumb was twisting her gold wedding band around her finger, trying to calm herself, rating to rein in her emotions. 

She was there was Steve came back, hair white and skin wrinkled. She hadn't said anything-No, she just looked at her husband, tears filling her eyes. There was no screaming, no sobbing, no real signs of any outward emotions other than her watery eyes. Steve had tried to talk, tried to explain himself, but she had just walked away. She knew what he did, where he had went. There was no point in arguing with him, with fighting over a choice he had already made so she didn’t. Bucky wonders if she had cried after that, if she had screamed into her pillow after being betrayed by the man she loved. 

He didn’t know that an oh so familiar numbness had started to taken a hold her as she had walked away from the situation. She doesn’t remember any of the drive home-she honestly doesn’t understand how she able to drive at all. The next few days were a blur-she didn’t leave the house, hell, she didn’t even leave her bed unless she had to.

It had taken four days for it to finally settle in, for the pain to crack through and force itself through that numbness. There had been a lot of crying, of screaming during that time. Shattered picture frames, broken dishes. She kept to herself, not wanting to take her anger out on anyone as she processed everything.

At the funeral, she didn't say much to anyone. Everyone's condolences were met with a small smile and nod. She had stood in between Sam and Bucky in the front pew. Her back was rigid, her head held high. Her makeup and hair done perfectly-she had been the dutiful wife and now it seemed like she was becoming the perfect little widow. For a second, Bucky had thought she was processing this all well-better than him, at least-until Sam suddenly grabbed her hand in the middle of someone's eulogy. She had been scratching the back of her hands until they were bloody and raw, her pale pink nails discolored by garnet.

Another firework screams its way into the sky, exploding and illuminating them in emerald for a brief moment. She shifts in the grass, drawing her knees into her chest, making her look smaller than she actually is.

"I miss him. I-I don't know if I should, but I miss him. I still love him." She announces, barely loud enough for him to hear, "No matter what he did, I still love him. I-I wish I didn't, I think it might make it all easier."

"I yelled at him, both Sam and I did. He tried to justify it, wanted Sam to convince you to forgive him." Bucky confesses, his eyes still on her. She turns her head to look at him, brows furrowed, “He didn’t understand why you were so angry with him.”

“I talked to him before he-He didn’t want me to be mad at him. He didn’t want to leave with us with in the middle of fight. Didn’t want to leave it like that. He couldn’t stand it when we fought and these past five years-God, it felt like that was all we did. Everything I did wasn’t good enough fir him.” She looks back down at the ground, fingers picking at the grass, “I kept askin’ him ‘Why?’ and he couldn’t give me an answer. He told me that he loved me, but he also loved her. He acted that’s all he needed to say.”

“I know he had a family with her. Had kids, grandkids, the whole shebang. He had told me-He told me that after we fixed everything-after we brought everyone back that we were gonna settle down like we always talked about, that we could start trying and God, I knew it sounded too good to be true.” Emotion is wrapping around her neck like a noose, making her words strained as tears start to roll down her cheeks, “And I wanted it so bad. I wanted a family with him, even though things were shit and he was pushing me away, I still wanted that. I thought-I thought that finally everything was okay and I feel like an idiot for believing it.”

Her words hang in the air above them, above his grave. They weighed heavily on Bucky, forcing his shoulders down. Steve had promised her a family, a quiet life-some semblance of normalcy and had ripped it away for what? For a woman he knew less than a year? Bucky had asked him if he had regret what he did and Steve hadn’t responded. He had just changed the subject, deciding to instead talk about the quality of his hospital food.

“You’re not an idiot. You didn’t-You didn’t know he was going to do this. None of us did.“ Bucky replies, his voice just as quiet as hers had been moments before. She just sits there, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Both of them just looked at the grave in front of them, a dozen different emotions flowing between the two.

The tears on her face have started to dry. In the distance they could hear music playing, people laughing, and celebrating. They continued to sit quietly in the cemetery, the buzzing of cicadas and fireworks turning into white noise.

-

"Shall we look at the moon, my little loon?

Why do you cry?

Make the most of your life, while it is rife

While it is light

Well, you do enough talk

My little hawk, why do you cry?

Tell me, what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?

Or the Fourth of July?

We're all gonna die"

[notinthislife50]

Chapter 1

Next Chapter

Not Mrs Walker

“Agent fury?” You whispered from the door way. Interrupting his meeting with agent hill. His head shot up and you understood the shock and confusion on their faces.

“I take it you know who I am" you smiled nervously.

“Yes, Mrs walker I do” he confirmed.

“Y/n please and my last name is y/l/n, I don’t go by walker anymore” you stated.

“In that case y/n what can I do for you?” He questioned.

“I need agent Coulson," you confirmed.

"I'm sorry y/n, but agent coulson is on a mission" maria apologised. "We don't know when he will back"

You tried to remain calm and smiled "did he ever tell you about project hide and seek” you asked meekly not sure if they knew what that was.

"Yes" fury answered harshly looking at you "it's a very classified mission y/n" looking at you accusingly, wondering how the hell you knew.

"I am project hide and seek" you whispered.

“Come in y/n” fury jumped up immediately.

“No” you snapped “sorry, no thank you" you smiled not trying to sound offensive "I can get away a lot quicker from here. Thank you though” trying to not sound harsh.

“I’m sorry y/n but agent coulson is underground at the minute but I am aware of the situation, what do you need?” He insisted.

“I need protection” you lifted up your arm showing a brief case attached to your wrist with a handcuff.

“In this case, I have the files on my soon to be ex husband and members of shield who are working for hydra, but they ARE coming too close to finding me, I don’t think I can last much longer on my own” you said sadly

[happy74827]

Cool Rider

[Steve Rogers x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When another date ends in disaster, and Steve shows up in an attempt to “cheer” you up, you’re instantly against everything. But it’s Steve, and you should know by now that he never takes no for an answer.

WC: 3859

Category: Fluff

A lot of people liked my other Steve fic, so I felt inclined to make another. This time with a lot more fluff (you’re welcome @summerrivera777777).

『••✎••』

Needless to say, you were shocked when you heard the roar of a motorcycle.

You didn’t do well with dates. In your 24 years of life, you had a total of one boyfriend, and he was the absolute worst. So, in the last six months, you have been avoiding all social activities like the plague and focusing solely on yourself and your future.

That meant that you had become very comfortable being a hermit and avoiding any and all contact with other human beings. You were happy that way.

So why was a man who looked like an absolute God sitting on a motorcycle at the front door of your house?

Well, because you broke that rule a week ago.

In all fairness, the man was cute. A nerdy, awkward kind of cute. And he was a gentleman. And you were lonely.

So, when he asked you for your number, you were too lonely to turn him down. You hadn’t expected him to call, and you certainly didn’t expect him to ask you out on a date. But you also didn't think you would have the willpower to say no.

So you accepted, and it turned out to be the biggest regret of your life. The “nerd” was actually a complete dick, and after 30 minutes, you just wanted to go home. But you couldn’t because he refused to pay for the meal, so you were stuck there with him.

The worst part of the night was when he got into his car and tried to follow you home. He kept insisting that he just wanted to be a good guy and make sure that you got home safely, but you were sure that he just wanted to see where you lived and probably get in a few gropes along the way.

Luckily, you were able to lose him about three blocks from your house. It was a good thing, too, because your phone had died a couple of blocks ago, and you were afraid that if you got caught by him, you wouldn't have a way to call for help.

The next day, you made an executive decision to stay the hell away from men, with the exception of a few nice, safe friends. That was how you ended up here, seven days later, hiding in your room and ignoring your doorbell.

The bell kept ringing, and you knew that whoever was out there wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Groaning, you threw your covers off of your body and stomped towards the front door.

You threw open the door, ready to rip someone a new one, when your angry speech caught in your throat.

Steve Rogers was standing on your front porch.

He was a friend from work, to simplify a very long story. You met him two years ago when you started at SHIELD. You were a tech genius, and you worked closely with the Avengers to keep their equipment running.

Steve was always sweet and funny. You had a lot in common and were very close. After a while, you started hanging out with him and his friends, Natasha, Sam, and Bucky. It was great.

As exceptions to men go, he was definitely a big one. He was a walking god, with the physique and the looks to prove it. And here he was, on your front porch, holding keys that belonged to the motorcycle parked out front.

You looked at the motorcycle, then back to Steve, before your face went blank.

"No."

"What?"

"No."

Steve cocked an eyebrow. A smile tugged at his lips as if he were amused. "No?"

"Nope. Whatever you're trying to sell, I'm not buying."

"Why would I be trying to sell you something? I’m not even selling anything."

"It’s an expression, Steve, Jesus." You said, throwing your hands up in exasperation. Steve might’ve been your best friend, but the guy was such a 90-year-old sometimes. "If you think that I'm going to get on that thing with you, you're wrong. It's death on two wheels."

His eyes widened in surprise, a laugh bubbling in his throat. He looked over his shoulder at the bike, then back to you.

"That's... a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"I'm serious, Steve. It's not happening. I don't trust that thing, and I'm not going to die in some freak accident."

He crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his leather jacket tightening over his biceps. His smile didn't fade as he spoke, which only annoyed you more.

"It's not going to kill you. I’m quite insulted that you would think that I would put you in danger."

"You're an Avenger. You put me in danger just by existing."

His lips twitched, and you had the feeling that he was holding back a comment.

"Look," he said, leaning against the door frame. "You haven't come out with us in weeks, and I'm worried. It's not healthy to lock yourself in your house all the time. With the job we have, there's never a guarantee of tomorrow, and if I were you, I'd want to spend every day living it to the fullest."

His words caught you off guard. He was right. It had been almost two months since you had gone out with the group. You just couldn't find the motivation. You were content being at home, alone. You had gotten a little lax in your friendships, only going to work and coming straight home. And now, with the… issues… with your date, you just didn't have the heart to try again.

You could feel your resolve starting to crumble, but you tried to stay strong.

"That's a low blow, Rogers." You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. "But my answer is still no."

"You think that was a low blow?” He scoffed as he pushed himself away from the door and took a step forward.

He was so much taller than you, and his presence was overwhelming. With the added tightness of his clothing and the confidence in his eyes, it tricked your eyes into seeing him as bigger than he really was. He was big, of course, but right now, it felt like he was towering over you.

Your heart began to race, a flush spreading over your cheeks.

"You clearly never played football because if you did, you'd know that this was a real low blow."

Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You squealed, slapping your hand against his lower back. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans, and you could see the muscles ripple in his back with every step that he took. "Put me down!"

"You're going to have fun today."

"Steve! Put me down right now! I swear to God if you don't-"

"You'll what?" He laughed, the deep rumble making your stomach flutter. "Punish me?"

You huffed as you pounded on his back with your fist. You weren't mad at him, really; you just didn't know how to respond.

Steve practically dragged you outside. You were sure that you looked ridiculous, but you were thankful that you lived far enough away from your neighbors for no one to witness this. When he finally set you down next to the motorcycle, you gave him a glare.

"You're an ass, Steve Rogers."

He gave you a smirk as he swung his leg over the bike, his leather jacket tightening around his arm as his muscles flexed. Personally, you hated leather, but the way it fit him...

"Steve, I’m not wearing the right clothes."

He was quiet as his eyes swept over you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top since it was the middle of summer and you were hot, but he was looking at you like you were covered head to toe in leather.

"We can go buy something and change in the bathroom or something."

He seemed to think for a moment before he gave a single nod.

"Sure."

He started the bike and motioned for you to get on behind him. Goddamn it, Steve.

Sighing, you swung your leg over the bike and wrapped your arms around his torso. It was an incredibly intimate position, with your body pressed up against his and your faces mere inches apart. For a moment, you didn’t even realize when he swung a helmet down in front of your face.

"Put this on, Scaredy-Cat."

"Shut up, I'm not scared. Just... concerned."

He raised an eyebrow at you, his smirk still ever-present. You rolled your eyes before slipping the helmet onto your head.

The engine rumbled beneath you, and Steve revved the engine a couple of times, laughing when you squeaked in surprise and gripped him tighter. You could feel the laughter in his chest, his muscles moving under your fingers.

"Hold on tight, princess. Wouldn't want you falling off."

"You're a dick."

"Language."

"I will push you off this bike."

Steve didn't say anything; he just pulled the kickstand up and eased the bike into drive.

You squealed when the bike began to move, tightening your hold on Steve and burying your face in his back. He didn’t seem to mind; he just chuckled and sped up a bit.

You tried not to scream as he maneuvered the bike through traffic, weaving in and out of cars. It was a terrifying experience, especially since you had the distinct impression that Steve was taking advantage of the situation and driving recklessly.

You felt the wind on your legs and the constant hair strands whipping into your face, but you refused to look up. The speed, the closeness of the cars, and the fact that there was nothing keeping you on the bike except for Steve made it impossible to even think about moving.

When Steve finally stopped the bike, you had your eyes closed tight, and your body pressed completely up against him. Your arms were wrapped around him so tightly he was surprised you could breathe.

He took a moment to enjoy the feeling before gently prying your hands off of him and stepping off the bike. He turned and reached out a hand for you, waiting patiently for you to move. When you didn’t, he moved back towards the bike and took the helmet off your head.

You were breathing hard, trying desperately not to show how scared you were.

"It wasn’t that bad."

You shot him a glare, which made him grin.

"Just... shut up."

He laughed and helped you off the bike, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He was a gentleman, of course, and you couldn’t complain about the feeling of his hard body pressed up against yours, but the sudden closeness was a bit overwhelming.

"Ugh, I think I have whiplash."

"Liar," said Steve with another laugh, be dramatic. You liked it, admit it."

"Whatever, why are you even kidnapping me, anyways?"

"I told you. It's not healthy to sit in a dark room, alone, all day, every day."

"First, rude.” You said, giving him a nudge in the side. He let out a small sound, which made your eyes widen in surprise.

"Did that hurt you, oh Captain, my Captain?"

"It didn't hurt," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "And second?"

"What?"

"First, rude," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Second?"

"Oh! Yeah, why are we actually doing this?"

That’s when Steve paused. Your heart instantly dropped at his hesitation. Steve only hesitated for two reasons. The first reason would be if he were completely at a loss for words, and clearly, by his recent attitude, that wasn’t the case. So that left the second reason: because he knew something that he either didn’t want to tell you or something he wasn’t supposed to know.

With recent events, it wasn’t difficult to guess what was happening.

"Natasha told you, didn't she."

You were already pulling away from him, ready to go back home and hide in your bed for the rest of eternity, when he caught your wrist.

“Hey,” His voice was softer, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It doesn't matter. What matters is that you have a good time today, alright? So, forget about what happened, forget about what Natasha said, and just focus on having a good day. Okay?"

“I don’t want a pity date, Steve. It’s nice that you care and everything, but-”

"I'm not pity dating you." His voice was firm, and his face was hard, the complete opposite of the way it was just moments before.

"Then what do you call this? My actual date sucked, and I've been cooped up in my house, so you thought, 'Hey, why not take her out and show her a good time?'"

Steve let out a sigh and shook his head, his fingers loosening around your wrist. "No, no. That's not... I'm sorry."

The change in him was drastic. He seemed to shrink in on himself, and his head drooped like a kicked puppy.

"Steve,"

He lifted his head and looked at you, his baby-blue eyes filled with guilt.

"You have no idea how badly I want to punch that guy for treating you like that.” He spoke softly as if the words were only meant for him to hear. But, as the saying goes, the walls have ears, and the parking lot was pretty damn quiet. “But that's not what this is. You're my friend, and I hate to see you sad. I'm not here just because of a stupid date. I'm here because I care about you."

There was a pause, a heavy silence hanging between the two of you. He was looking at you expectantly, a pleading look in his eyes.

"I'm not going to make you talk about it if you don't want to."

"Okay,"

"And I'm not going to bring it up again unless you do.”

"Okay."

"And, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return, maybe a little more conversation, a smile, maybe a laugh, but other than that..."

A smile slowly crept onto your face. He had the uncanny ability to make everyone else smile, regardless of their mood, and he was the only one who could do it. It’s not that his jokes were particularly funny because they weren't, but it was the way he said them.

He was an awkward, nervous mess most of the time, but when he was confident when he was in his element, there was no stopping him.

"You sure you want to waste all your energy on me, old man?"

His lips twitched at the nickname, his eyes brightening. "For you, doll? Anything."

And there it was. That goddamn smile that made your heart skip a beat and butterflies erupt in your stomach. He was just too sweet, and it was completely unfair.

"Come on," he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you close. "Let's get you something nice."

You smiled as you walked next to him. As much as you hated the motorcycle ride, it was nice to spend some time with Steve. He parked outside a Target, and the two of you walked in, immediately making your way to the women's section.

You took charge almost immediately, going to the racks and picking out different things. Steve followed behind you, carrying your armfuls of clothes as you added more. You went through rack after rack, throwing the things that caught your eye into his arms.

After about the tenth outfit, you turned around and saw him standing there, his arms filled with clothing and a smile on his face. You ignored it or tried to, as you turned back around and went to another rack.

When you finally finished, you had an armful of outfits, and Steve was practically weighed down. He didn't seem to mind, though, and you had the feeling that he had enjoyed his role as a pack mule. When the shopping was done, you ran to the bathrooms and changed into the outfit while Steve waited outside.

A pullover hoodie and a pair of jeans, the closest thing that Target had to leather. Not exactly what you wanted, but it would work. When you stepped out of the stall, you found Steve sitting in one of the chairs, flipping through a magazine. Such a 90-year-old, again.

He looked up when he heard the door open, his eyes sweeping over your form.

"Where to now? The ditch?"

Steve rolled his eyes, a smile spreading across his lips. "You’re an avid book reader, right? What's the biggest bookstore in the area?"

"Are we going to Barnes and Noble or something?"

"If that's what's closest."

You paused, watching his expression. There was no sign of teasing, no hint that this was a joke.

"…Really? Barnes and Noble?"

"Is that an issue?"

The disbelief must have been written on your face because Steve gave a loud laugh, throwing his head back.

"Oh, come on. I can be spontaneous!"

"Sure," you mumbled, trying not to show how happy his statement had made you. He remembered a stupid fact about you that you had told him months ago. And he had stored it, not forgotten it.

You felt like you were in the twilight zone, but you weren't complaining.

Steve bought the outfit and threw the tags away, and the two of you got back on the motorcycle. It was easier, this time, with the knowledge that he had cared enough to listen to your ramblings. Maybe he cared enough to calm it.

You had your face buried in his back, not out of fear this time, but out of comfort. You couldn’t see him smile as he sped up, but you could feel it.

At Barnes and Noble, he sat and watched as you wandered the store, a smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, didn't pressure you into talking, didn’t even try to join in; he just sat and listened as you read him the summaries of the books. You didn’t even mean to; it just kind of happened.

One moment, you were looking through the books; the next, you were reading the synopsis out loud to Steve. He didn’t say anything, didn't make any indication that he was listening, but you could tell by the way his head would turn towards you when you spoke. And once again, Steve was your personal pack mule, carrying the books that you were interested in.

By the end of the night, he had an armful of books, a satisfied smile on his face, and you were laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed this much, the last time you had felt so happy.

When you got home, the sky was dark, and the moon was high. Steve followed you inside and set the books down on the coffee table. He had refused to let you carry them, insisting that they would get ruined in your hands. You didn't bother fighting him on it and allowed him to carry them.

"Do you want a drink or anything? Something to eat?" It was obvious you were slightly nervous now, but Steve didn’t seem the notice… or even care at this point.

"No, thank you. I should probably be getting back."

"Oh." You paused, not really wanting him to leave, but you couldn’t ask him to stay. You were friends, that was it, and nothing more. "Okay, yeah."

"Well," he started, his fingers flexing by his side. "I'll see you soon, then?"

"Yeah," you said, giving him a smile. "See you soon, Steve."

He looked like he was going to say something else before he gave you a soft smile and walked out.

Once he was gone, you shut the door and let out a sigh. Today was perfect, and you hated yourself for it. You hated yourself for enjoying yourself, hated that you were able to push away all thoughts of him. It was like the universe was taunting you, dangling the perfect guy in front of your face, and you couldn’t have him.

"Why him, huh?"

"I can still hear you." Steve's voice echoed through the house despite his absence in it, and you internally groaned as you got up to stare out the window. Damn, his super hearing.

You pulled the blinds aside and watched as Steve got on his bike, his helmet still in his hands.

"Steve."

He paused, turning his head towards the house. He couldn’t hear what you were saying now that he was by his bike, not with the closed windows, but he could see the silhouette of your body against the curtains. You lifted it up in an instant, an invitation.

"Steve.” You repeated, and this time he heard it. Loud and clear.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really mean it? That this wasn’t a pity date?"

Steve paused for a moment, his lips slightly parted. After a moment, he rested his helmet on the handlebars and made his way back to you. He stopped inches from you, slightly bending down through the window.

A smile and a simple glimpse at your lips was his only answer. He looked back in your eyes, his expression soft, waiting. He was leaving it up to you, not wanting to push, not wanting to scare. He wanted it, but he wasn’t going to force it.

It was all the incentive that you needed.

You reached through the window and grabbed his jacket, pulling him forward and crashing your lips together. It was desperate and slightly awkward since you were halfway through the window, but neither of you seemed to care.

Steve reached forward and grabbed the side of the window, pushing it open even further and lifting you through. You let out a surprised squeak, which quickly turned into a moan as he pressed you up against the house.

His lips were warm and softer than you expected. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

After a few moments, Steve pulled away, his forehead resting on yours and a smile on his face.

"Okay, this wasn't a pity date."

Steve let out a laugh, the breath puffing against your face.

"Good. Glad we established that."

"What was this, then? I've been told that Captain America wasn’t one to put out on the first date."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely not. I'm a gentleman."

"Then what's this, Steve? What was today?"

His arm tightened around you, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Like I said, I can be spontaneous."

"Spontaneous," you mumbled, letting out a laugh.

"And," he continued, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "It seems good girls like a little bad every now and then. You especially, given your choice of dates."

"So, is that what this is? Captain America showing me a good time?"

"No. This is Steve Rogers showing his girl a good time."

"Your girl, huh?"

"Yeah," he murmured, his lips inches from yours. "My girl."

And when his lips met yours again, all you could think about was the leather jacket, the motorcycle, and the promise of more.

And a whole lot more bad.

[wednesdaynn]

MASTERLIST

welcome to my kinktober masterlist for 2024

Regular MASTERLIST

Hi! everybody, this year i will be participating in kinktober 2024 and so instead of making it more difficult for everyone i'm going to just put my materlist on the top of my blog... so if you're into kinky, weird and spooky fics, than please feel more than welcome stay. grab a hot tea and some candy apples and feast on your favourite fictional crushes

mutual masturbation:

It’s the god heroine prays to | James Potter x reader

sexual frustration:

nightmares and dreams | Bucky Barnes x reader

rimming:

emergency buttons | Steve Rogers x reader

Golden showers:

Showers and showers | Bucky barnes x reader

[make-me-imagine]

Thinking of You

Prompt/Plot: “Receiving flowers but you don't know who they are from.“

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Gn!Reader

Requested By: Anonymous (left over from Valentines Day)

Words: 552

-

To say you had been stressed was an understatement. Every day brought new problems that you had to solve.

Walking towards your office, you ran through all the things you had to do today. Other SHIELD agents walked briskly down the hall, everyone with their own jobs and own problems.

Opening your office door, you stopped mid-step as you spotted a bouquet of flowers on your desk.

You blinked a few times as you walked over to your desk, eyes not leaving the flowers. Setting your bag down, you picked the bouquet up and turned it around in your hands.

Grabbing the card you read the printed text.

'I hope this brightens your day.'

Turning the card over, you noticed no name was left, and your chest swelled with curiosity. Was it really for you? And from who?

Smelling the flowers, you found a smile spreading across your face as your heart fluttered in your chest. Looking out into the hall, you left your office and walked across to the assistant desk.

"Taylor, did you see who left these in my office?"

Looking up, the assistant eyed the flowers with a curios gaze before shaking their head "I didn't see anyone come in with them, or go into your office."

You hummed softly, curiosity rising. Going back into your office, you took a few moments to put the flowers in a vase on your desk. The stressful thoughts of your busy morning leaving, if only for a short time.

As you got on with your day, you worked thoroughly and quietly. Every once and a while your eyes rose up to the flowers perched on the desk. Each time, your heart fluttered, as you wondered who left them for you.

Hearing your phone buzz, you flipped it over, seeing a message from Steve. Your heart fluttered again as your ears burned a little hotter as you read the message.

'Did you like your flowers?'

'You left them?'

'Yes.'

'They're beautiful. Thank you Steve. But, what are they for?'

'I was thinking of you, and how stressed you've been, and I thought it might brighten your day, just a little.'

'More than a little. Thank you.'

As you pressed send, you looked back at the flowers. Steve had been thinking of you? That alone caused your heart to pound heavily in your chest.

Letting out a deep breath, you told yourself to think nothing of it. He was your friend, and he was kind, that was all.

Looking down at your phone as another message came through, your breath caught in your throat.

'I was also hoping you might be free for dinner tonight?'

'I'm free. Is something going on?'

You told yourself not to think too much of it, yet.

'No, I just wanted to see you, it's been a while since we've been able to spend some time together'

You couldn't help but focus on what was being said in between the lines. He wanted to see you, maybe there really was more to it.

'Sounds great to me.'

'Good.'

You found yourself smiling brightly as you sat at your desk, wondering just what he really wanted to say to you. The flowers, and now dinner. Maybe it wasn't so bad to hope there was something else going on.

xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Marvel+Steve Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @gay-and-ready-to-cry, @flourishandblotts-inc, @spuffyfan394, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @locke-writes, @cs-please, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @skylions-den, @dominos-palast, @maellem, @readingwithatorch, @cauliflowertree, @writerfulltime, @multifandomfix

[imagineanythings]

Stronger Than Steel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 832

Just a sweet little drabble.

It's part of life, Steve going out on missions, risking his life, and always coming home to you. That doesn't make it any less scary when he's out there, or any less relieving when he returns. Even the strongest of us need to be cared for sometimes.

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

He could crush steel with his bare hands. You watched the screen in front of you. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, live footage of the Avengers taking on yet another potentially world-ending threat. You weren’t worried about the world. You rarely were anymore. You were worried about your world, wrapped in red, white, and blue, always carrying the weight of everyone else on his shoulders. Breath caught in your throat as he took another hit and refused to budge until he returned the blow with twice the strength. 

Lackeys fell like dominos as he moved through them with clinical efficiency. He was hard out there. Your sweet, sensitive lover was almost impossible to find in a man made of pure, polished gold. 

The leader of this particular assault, a hulking, alien-looking beast of a man, moved to fire some alien weapon at Natasha but received a shield to the stomach before he could pull the trigger. Steve moved in one, graceful motion. A powerful leap landed him next to the villain, and a twist and pull gave him an improvised weapon, a steel beam he ripped from the wall. Two precise and viscous strikes rendered the big bad unconscious, and Steve turned to his teammates. His jawline was set in stone, his eyes were hard and his grip on his shield harder. Even through the screen you could feel his knuckles turning white. 

You stood on the edge of the landing pad, chewing on your thumb nail. With a rush of wind and sound he came back to you, striding out of the jet all harshness and rough edges. He took you into the arms that could snap bone and crumple steel like paper so gently that you knew he would never hurt you. A ghost of a touch to his cheek released the tension in his jaw, and you watched the effects ripple through his body. The captain, your strong soldier, began to melt in your arms.

His shoulders slumped as his forehead came to rest on your shoulder. You brought a hand up and threaded fingers through his hair, you felt him release the tightness from his lungs with a deep, heavy sigh. 

“I missed you.” He whispered to your collarbone. 

“I missed you too.” You responded to his temple. 

He pulled back, a gentle smile now adorned his softened features. The hardness from the screen, the rough edges from the landing all soothed away. Now Steve stood in front of you, your sweet, kind, soft Steve, sweaty and exhausted, melting in your hands, refusing to pull away from your touch. 

“Let’s get you in a shower. You smell like shit.” The words began as a whisper but tumbled out with a giggle as you traced his jaw with your fingers. He simply chuckled and took your hand, your Captain giving you permission to take the lead. 

He let you guide him through the hallways and corridors of the compound. He followed obediently, barely paying attention to where he was going, knowing he didn’t need to. He let you pull him along, trusting you completely to always bring him home. 

He stepped out of a steaming shower with now much more relaxed muscles to find you on the couch, one of his shirts hanging too large on your frame. A bowl of popcorn and a bag of chocolates sat on the coffee table alongside two steaming mugs of tea. His lips spread into a broad smile, and he settled down next to you, kicking his legs up onto the couch and pulling you into his broad, solid chest. 

“How ya doing, big guy?” You asked softly. He nestled you closer to him and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

“‘M alright. Wasn’t a bad one today.”

“Still looked pretty scary.”

“Eh. I’ve seen much worse.” 

“Ok well I’m always scared.” You said with a sigh. He pulled you away and looked into your eyes.

“You never have to be scared. I promise you, nothing in this world or any other could ever stop me from coming home to you.” 

“Steve. You can’t promise that. There’s no way to know what will happen.” 

“No.” His eyes were determined and his jaw set. “I will always come home to you.” He broke eye contact in a moment of uncharacteristic sheepishness. It was cute. He found your eyes again, even more determined than before. “I love you, Y/N, and I always will. And nothing will keep me from coming home to my girl.” 

“I love you too Steve.” Your heart swelled and you kissed him quickly and gently, “plus if you ever don’t come back to me, I’m heading out there and dragging you back myself. I don’t care what crazy, superpowered maniacs I have to fight through, I’ll do it, I swear.” 

His laughter resonated through your entire body and he shook his head. “Yes Ma’am” He whispered before bringing your lips to his one more time. 

[i-mushi]

Flying with Steve Rogers

I just did a 12hr roundtrip flight marathon for a family emergency and got 2.5hrs of sleep. So slightly delirious at 4am on the return flight I wrote a short little thing on how much nicer it would have been to fly with Steve Rogers. It's also on Ao3! -> Flying with Steve Rogers

He’s calm when you’re jittery in the security line, his baseball cap pulled low. You were cutting it a little close to boarding due to traffic and hoping to still have time to grab a snack before boarding. He holds your hand, thumb rubbing soothingly on the back, and shuffles forward with the line.

You’re wound up tight at the gate and trying to hide it as people start to line up waiting to board. You’re worrying if you’ll have space for the carry on up above or it’ll be an embarrassing and expensive mess at the gate to check it, and if you’re seat will be okay or if you’ll be next to the baby waving the rattle by the coffee shop. You’ve completely forgotten Steve gets early boarding. When they announce anyone with small children or military can come forward Steve stands up with his duffel bag. He looks at you expectantly until you realize that means both of you.

He puts your heavy carry-on up in the overhead compartment like it weighs as much as the baby who is settling down far away and offers to help the woman ahead of him with hers. He settles into the window seat with noise cancelling headphones with a small smile to you and a squeeze of your thigh. He’s too big for the seats. His shoulders are so broad that as you sit down you only have to turn your head to touch your lips to his shoulder. It’s nice. He’s a space heater on the cold plane, and he’s happy to be a pillow when you try to nod off. He doesn’t mind when your fingers dig into his palm as your belly swoops with takeoff and landing.

He pulls down four people’s bags for them before you deplane, and he lifts both of your checked luggage in one hand each from baggage claim. He grabs your hand when you both spot Happy standing with the other drivers with a little sign that just says: “Cap”.

As you approach Happy offers his hand to shake. “Captain Rogers, we would have been happy to fly you on a private plane or at least first class.”

“That’s alright, Happy. It’s nice to know what people are talking about with air travel. And the target was tagged.”

“Target?” You ask, confused, as Happy leads you out to a luxury sedan. “This was a trip to meet my family.”

Steve squeezes your hand. “It was, and it started as that. But the flights you were looking at happened to be in the same airport as someone SHIELD has been keeping an eye on. So it worked out.”

“When did you— you know what, I don’t care.” You have no idea when he tagged anybody, but that’s Steve. You just shake your head as he helps Happy put the bags in the trunk, then slides into the seat beside you. He puts his arm over your shoulder as you yawn into his chest. “Let’s fly first class next time,” you mumble.

[heyitsme1040]

Comfortember 2023 Introduction

Hi! So while I didn't partake in this year's kinktober (I wanted to but wasn't sure how my smut writing skills were yet) I am going to participate in Comfortember 2023! The current plan is to participate in every day of November's comfort fic prompts. The current plan is also to write each day's prompt and not use one of the alternate prompts. I also have a miniature goal outside of the prompts, which is to have each fic be at least 1,000 words. If you want to partake in Comfortember then you can find the full prompt list here courtesy of @comfortember . Click here to find my masterlist of this challenge. And now without further delay, here's the list of what I'm writing and the pairing.

Safe - Spider-Man x Reader

Sweater Weather - Steve Rogers x Reader

Leaves Changing - Steddie

Warmth - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Treehouse - Eddie Munson x Reader

Notes - Steddie

Sick/Illness - Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Grief/Mourning - Peter Parker x Reader

Aftermath - Spencer Reid x Reader

Sadness - Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Comfort Show/Movie - Peter Parker x Reader

Dreams - Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Baking - Spencer Reid x Reader

Late Night Phone Calls - Peter Parker x Reader

Plushies - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Coffee/Tea Break - Spencer Reid x Reader

Heirloom - Steve Rogers x Reader

Cuddles - Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Loved Ones - Dean Winchester x Reader

Shopping - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Relapse - Dean Winchester x Reader

Cry - Steve Harrington x Reader

Anxiety - Peter Parker x Reader

Blankets - Dean Winchester x Reader

Rain - Sam Winchester x Reader

Friends - Peter Parker x Reader

Soup - Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader

Flashbacks - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Sleepover - Eddie Munson x Reader

The New Normal - Steddie

Now, I do have an idea to use the alternate prompts. I'm thinking since there are five of them, I'll post twice on a random day each week of November. While I don't have an idea for pairings yet, the prompts are:

Books

Baths

Travel

Candles

Colors

I'll be posting daily, so if you want to see these fics as they come out, maybe give me a follow?

[dispatchvampire]

Accidentally in Love (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 1800-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 3

One Week Later

“Is he hot in person?”

“Who?” Echo slipped her lunch into the breakroom fridge and pulled out the two cold bottles of caffeinated water she’d left in there the previous night. Late afternoon as it slipped into evening was always a busy time and she needed the fortification. 

“Spongebob Squarepants,” Kalenda, her work bestie, scoffed as she crossed her arms with an impatient frown. The curvy brunette was Echo’s age, about two inches shorter but making up for it with feistiness. “Who do you think? Bucky freaking Barnes! Christ, it’s like you don’t even know me at all.”

 “Lord…” she rolled her eyes as she held the door to the break room open for her friend to pass in front of her on their way into the main center. “Yes. Yes, he is just as beautiful in person, and he and Captain Rogers together are, in fact, as kind and stupidly hot as advertised.” After the visit at the hospital where they’d returned her replaced or repaired belongings—including her bike—Echo had traded numbers with Steve and Bucky, and the guys had texted her a few times in the intervening days to check on her and chatting a little, but it felt weird reaching out to contact them just because. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything. 

Not that she wouldn’t have minded being their friend, or… well, or. They were gorgeous, sweet, funny so far as she could tell, and of course heroic and selfless as hell. The way they smiled at her made her knees weak and her pussy may never recover. What’s not to like? But who was she kidding, really. They were the objects of desire for over half the planet, she guessed, and she was a dispatcher for the NYPD. In no way were those worlds truly related, outside of the most superficial ways, much less were compatible. 

“The hair and those eyes, I’d get so fucking lost in them you’d never find me again. And all those muscles,” she sighed lustily. “Fuck me, that’s before we even talk about that metal arm,” Kalenda carried on, now in full swoon as they made their way out to their stations. “Gods, the things I would let him do to me…” 

Echo snorted at her friend’s obvious heart-eyes in regards to the Winter Soldier. She didn’t blame her at all, but still, their coworkers didn’t need to be privy to their depraved bestie conversations. That’s what the chat was for. “Annnnnnd that is how we end up back at the supervisor’s office for inappropriate work conversations.”

Kalenda scoffed, waving off her concern with a dismissive hand-wave. “Oh, like you’ve never said anything filthy.” Her wicked grin should have been the warning. “Something something ‘star-spangled cock could split you open any time he wanted’? Something something ‘break him down to the frame’... any of that sound familiar?” 

Her leering green gaze as she slipped on her headset made Echo giggle even as heat rushed to her cheeks. “You could shut up any time now.”  

The laughter was shortlived, though, as they settled into their workday. Having a headset on meant that it was time to serve the citizens of NYC and the officers of NYPD to the best of their abilities. They were one of, if not the, largest comm center in the country and Echo was proud of the work she did, contributing to the safety of her town. 

It was easy to get lost in the work, one call at a time, one radio run at a time. Her focus, scattered as it could be at any other time, easily fell into the rhythm of call and response, action and reaction, hours slipping by unnoticed. 

Voices behind her and down at the end of her row drew her attention, their familiarity abruptly yanking her out of the zone. 

One pair of eyes zeroed in on her immediately. “Well, if it isn’t the crash test dummy.” 

Boisterously loud for the locale, Tony Stark was the walking definition of ‘all eyes on me’. He may have been in a crazy expensive suit and tie, looking all prim and proper and what have you, but the curve of his lips promised the most interesting kinds of mischief. 

Echo swallowed hard as she made herself unavailable for calls, her eyes quickly darting left and right to the unabashed gawking of her coworkers. Oh, they were still busy as hell, but the nosy bastards were never above a good spectacle. “Mr. Stark.” 

“Did the phone meet your standards?” he demanded with a smirk that seemed a little too knowing. He stopped behind her chair, spinning her around to face him. 

She nodded hesitantly. “It did, thank you. I mailed you a thank you note. Did you not get it?” 

Yes, it had been an old school touch, but sending him an email seemed a little impersonal, especially since he’d gone to the trouble of transferring all her stuff over in addition to giving her a top of the line bit of tech. And it wasn’t like she could just show up on his doorstep with a casserole.

He snorted, his billion dollar smile on full display as his eyes crinkled at the edges. “I did, but then, I expected nothing less considering you hang out with the geriatric set.” 

She was about to ask what he meant when another voice cut her off. “Tony, Jesus, man. Quiet down, people are working here—oh, hey Echo.” 

She sincerely hoped the whimpering squeak as she spun quickly to face him she heard was just in her head, though Kalenda’s snort behind her indicated no such luck. “Hi. James. I-I mean Bucky. Um…” her eyes met her bestie’s just behind him for some help, but only found the kind of mocking encouragement born from years of friendship. “Nice to see you. Here. At my job.” 

“Um yeah, about that…” The brunet smoothed his long bangs back out of his face behind his ears and grinned bashfully as he rubbed the back of his neck. Under other circumstances, she and Kalenda would be ogling him for the way the seams of his deep blue henley were barely clinging to life across his shoulders and around his massive arms and the skinny jeans that were all but wrecking her concentration. “Cap and Tony had a meeting at 1PP and Stevie wanted me to tag along.” 

“I’m glad he did.” The way her compliment made his cheeks flush felt like winning an award, even if the normal filter she kept up at work slipped a bit. 

“Me too.” The tiny shy grin that danced at the corners of his lips was killing her slowly, even as the somewhat awkward silence stretched out between them. 

Kalenda’s obvious throat-clearing seemed to startle her back into herself, reminding her acutely of both their location and their audience. 

“Well, it’s always good to see you.” The platitude was automatic, off her tongue and into the space between them before she even thought about it, her nerves robbing her mind of anything but decent manners. Good gods, she was never gonna live this down. 

“You look good.” His eyes widened a moment later as he flushed bright red, clearly that hadn’t been what he’d meant to come out of his mouth. “I mean, that is… you look better than when I saw you last time.” 

“Hard not to,” she conceded, her mind bordering on hysterical the longer this conversation went on. It felt like the whole world was watching this junior-high level farce and she was stumbling through it, quite badly. 

“Well, on the upside, you’re wearing more clothes this time,” Tony interjected oh-so-helpfully, looking like he was avidly watching the best telenovela ever and doing nothing to quell the likely overheating rumor mill that had just kicked into gear around them. “And there’s less blood.” 

“Alright, thank you, Mr. Stark,” Shelly, the floor supervisor’s breathlessly cheerful voice sounded like she’d rather eat broken glass than let that conversation continue as she rushed across the room to join them. “Echo, Mr. Stark, Sergeant Barnes, and Captain Rogers—”

“Hello, Echo.” 

She was almost afraid to look, though Kalenda’s dreamy sigh left her no other choice. Sure enough, the gods of horniness were testing her and pretty much every woman in the five boroughs with these three Avengers out together. In a black t-shirt under a green button-down and jeans that gave her the most impure thoughts possible about his thighs, the blond Avenger with the pink cheeks grinned at her warmly from his spot behind Tony. The fact her panties didn’t burst into flames right there was a miracle of modern physics. 

“Hey Steve.” 

“As I was saying,” her supervisor huffed, bringing all of the attention back to her, “they’re here to tour the center, so we should really be on our way.” 

Sounded reasonable to her, so long as they were there, Echo doubted there’d be much work done anyway. “Alright then.” Echo turned back to her console to take stock of her district. “It was good to see you. Be safe out there.”

“Before we go though…” Buck’s half-grin as he met her eye over her shoulder warmed her to her toes. “You out of here soon?” 

“A few hours. Why?” 

“Wanna meet up for a late dinner?” 

His hopeful expression tugged at her heart. It was the kind of thing that made her want to give him the world, even if she didn’t know him like that. “It’ll be after ten,” she hedged, perched on the fence between really wanting to spend time with them because who wouldn’t, really, and knowing that she’s no one special and didn’t have any business tagging along with them. 

“Then we’ll leave a light on for ya,” Steve replied cheerfully as he and Bucky were led further into the center and away from her desk. “See you tonight.”

“Always a pleasure, Crash,” Tony called, following behind him. 

Echo sat blinking at her console as she watched the group retreat, only spurred to action when she caught Steve’s eye as he winked at her before leaving the room. 

“What just happened?” she asked the Universe at large as she typed in the login code for her phone from muscle memory.

“Looks to me,” Kalenda replied lightly dropping off a new bottle of caffeinated water, “like you have a date after work.” 

“Huh.” The very idea was mindblowing. Quickly, her mind was shaken from its haze by a bank robbery that required both her and Kalenda’s attention for quite a while. 

“And had the nerve not to introduce me.”