#you can actually see all of grant's lil face freckles now thanks to the good lighting

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

july 3, 2021 9:00 a.m. myshuno cafe

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[ryctone]

Okay but with all the hype for the new event I forgot I made a Dark Choco & Croissant fic based on @the-wereraven's Golden Child!AU lol;;

Srry if the pace is weird I wrote this when it was late and I just wanted to write fluff of these two; Also Raven, I put some of my headcanons in these hope u don’t mind TwT.

(Warnings: Fluff, so much fluff and Dark Choco being a good older brother for a sick lil Croissant. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.) enjoy!

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The prince carried himself with elegance and grace. So much in fact, that his metal shoes touched the yellow-stone flooring with utter gentleness, soft and delicate as a trail of kisses. Despite the circumstances.

He didn't expect to receive a letter from the Cheese Kingdom that day, even less being informed that Golden Cheese's daughter; his pupil, was sick. Dark choco just had to see for himself, specially after how... peculiar this sickness was. He just wanted to make sure she was okay.

The guards at the door were already familiar with the heir of the Cacao Kingdom, since both their rulers are very close allays and knew he'd do no harm to the already i'll princess, granted him access to pay her a visit.

He entered the room and was greeted by-

“Hi, Choo.” came a little voice, muffled by the many blankets covering it before slowly revealing a little freckled face with golden eyes. Dark Choco paused mid-step, then smiled to himself.

Princess Croissant Cookie wasn’t just any cookie, that was certain. In the years since first being instated as his pupil of the throne by Golden Cheese herself; to show the young princess of Cheese Valley the ropes of ruling when the times comes; she had gone onward and upwards in proving her virtue and worth at such a young age, making for herself a dear place in the prince’s heart.

“Yes, it’s me. Hello Croissant!” The long haired prince proceeds to sit at the edge of the sumptuous bed.

“It’s really nice...that you’re here.” It was not the usual voice the little cookie addressed him with. Not the un-selfconscious, innocent delight and adoration of Croissant’s voracious curiosity. Rather, this was the voice that croaked and groaned, miserable enough to get the week off from school and not even enjoy it, though being Croissant, fell a little short. She had never enjoyed missing out on learning for anything, as Dark Choco well knew.

It hadn’t been the first time the prince had nursed his student through an illness, though it had been a while since the last time, and the fact this wasn't a normal sickness.

“I’m really glad you’re here. Thank you.”

The innocent sincerity touched Dark Choco, as it always did. “Of course, Cross. Your mom sent word to me as soon she knew too. You were quick to figure it out.”

The sick golden child made an aimless, sweeping gesture with her hand. “The first hundred degrees I went above normal were a bit of a clue. Candyneritus!” she suddenly exclaimed, knocking a few beetle and bird plushies about the floor.

“Candyneritus!” the little cookie cried out again. “Candynnnnnerrrrriiiiiiitus!” Dark Choco feared his student slipping into a moment of delirium. “I’m sorry,” Croissant said sullenly. “Is mom okay? I hope I got away from that sick cakehound quick enough.” She groaned and turned over.

“She is. She doesn't seem to have any symptoms according to the nurses. But is best to keep her out of your range until you’re feeling better and it can be disinfected completely.”

The freckled cookie nodded. “I hope she’s not worried...” she worried aloud.

“Only as much as you are.” Dark Choco said warmly.

“How do I even catch a Cakehound disease anyway? I’ve never heard of it happening, or read of it, or even read a story about it! Even for you, Choo, this has to be a first.” 

Dark Choco accommodated the shifted blankets to cover his little student. “Indeed it is, I’ve never heard of it, let alone seen it happen.”

Croissant gave a throaty chuckle, which quickly descended into a cough. “It shouldn’t even be possible. It’s too terrible to be allowed. I’m all achy and dizzy and shakey...and that’s not even a real adjective! Or is it an adverb?” Croissant grumbled and kicked some of her blankets off. “...I’m cold now,” she intoned quietly. “I’m sorry, choo.”

“Don’t think anything of it, Cross. You’re not well.” the prince said as he tucked her in with her blankets once more.

“I know. I’m trying to think straight, but I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

“If you’d rather sleep, I could—”

“No! Please, stay?” Her winged form scrambled and scooped her way through the blankets and pillows until she was more or less grabbing Dark Choco's arm. Her wide, wobbling eyes pleaded wantonly. She shivered, then buried her head in the remaining cushions that weren't on the floor to keep warm.

“Croissant. It’s alright. I'm here.” He said in a reassuring tone, seeing her act like this breaks his heart a little.

“I think it’s my high magic quotient,” she said irritably into the fluffy pillows. “Anycookie would be immune, because cakehounds are really magical too, so any flu that targeted them would have to be adapted specifically for that. The Candyneritus thinks I’m a cakehound, so now my body thinks it is one too, and is fighting it that way. My magic is tricking itself.”

Dark Choco paused, then looked back to his student. “That was surprisingly succinct.”

“Well, I am sick, but that doesn’t mean—” She sneezed. The thick, viscous kind of sneeze perpetrated by only the true mucous exporter. Right in Dark Choco’s face. Croissant looked more sheepish than an actual cotton candy sheep. Dark Choco just casually whipped it out with a gloved hand; he has to remind himself to clean up later.

“I was actually considering much along those lines as well.”

It might have just been the fever, but Croissant’s eyes took on a particular shine. “You mean it?”

“I do.”

“I think like you do? I always,—I mean, I wondered and maybe, maybe I hoped that...I’m glad.” Her head and eyelids sank respectively. “Choo?”

“Yes?”

“I know...I know I’m not really thinking straight, and I’m kind of scared and everything’s still hurt, but...but...”

“I love you.”

Dark Choco drew a gasp. Suddenly his poise and calm were fleeting things before him.

“I love you. You’re like the brother I never had. And...and...and usually I’m so worried about one thing or another, or thinking things through so much, but...but, I can barely hear myself think right now. I’m just babbling, but it’s nice for once not thinking and just saying.”

“Cross.”

The winged child found the strength to dredge her head up from the pillow. “I love you, and I don’t say that enough and maybe no cookie says it enough even though we mean to, and especially not enough to you because you’re so much, so amazing, and for everything I’ve done and been and learned... Everything I’ve learned, and I find out there’s two more things I didn’t know and-”

“Croissant.”

“...and how much you’ve done for me, because maybe a tower full of books is what I used to think was the biggest gift to me you ever gave, but I’m just a silly, sick cookie and when I’m better I’m going to be so embarrassed but I want to say it anyway, because it wasn’t the tower or the books that means so much; it’s every time you make me smile, or inspire me, or challenge me to grow, and I realize now that you’ve been treating me my whole life as... Me, and not just a spoiled lil' princess to put in a pedestal and I love you for everything and why am I crying and smiling at the same time?”

Exhausted, Croissant dropped softly to her caramel-colored bed. The occasional tear going down her cheeks with a sniff. “And now I’m scared,” she whispered. “Because I don’t know what’ll happen once I’m through the fever or if I’ll even—”

“Cheese Croissant Cookie” Dark Choco said, being firm yet gentle with his tone. “It’ll be okay. I’m here, and I won’t leave you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“But how—”

“Don’t concern yourself with that. You just get some rest and I’ll be right here.” Croissant sniffled and shivered. “Just sleep now.”

“I think...” she mumbled as her eyes drooped. “I think I can, now. I’m not so afraid with you here. I’m glad I said what I said.” 

“Sleep, Cross. I’ll watch over you.” Croissant murmured something as she sank softly into sleep. After a little while and in the privacy of the utterly spacious room, Dark Choco smiled.

“I love you too.” He whispered to the sleeping little cookie before him. Dark Choco listened to Croissant’s breathing and, in the glow of the setting sun outside the window, felt himself richer than all the marbled cheese towers.

[kayrogers]

animal ][ s. rogers

we’re sick like animals, we play pretend

Paring: steve rogers x agent!reader 

Inspo: animal by neon trees

Word Count: 3000+

Warning(s): SMUT... again because reasons and yes, oh also a lil angst ;)

Part: part one | part two | part three | part ??

A/N: none

Your eyes struggled to open as sunlight poured through the windows of the bedroom. You woke up with a strong, firm arm wrapped around your waist and heat emitted from an even larger body latching onto the left of yours. After blinking a few times, your head turned over to reveal the sleeping face of Steve Rogers next to yours. A smile immediately graced your lips, his features making him seem more at peace than he ever had in his life. Your mind didn’t even spin like it was supposed to. There were no thoughts of ‘oh shit! I slept with my best friend. What the fuck do I do?!’ It was as if you wore rose-colored glasses and all you knew was that  last night was one of the best sexual encounters you had in your life and that gorgeous man was still with you now, on an island far away from the rest of the world. Rest of your usual lives anyways.

You sat up, fully acknowledging just how naked the two of you were, and his arm fell to your legs. He groaned at the movement and tried nuzzling into you before his eyes shot open. Steve sat up as well, staring at you as if you were a mirage. Perhaps he had these glasses as well, because his smile mirrored yours. 

“Hey,” you greeted in a sleepy voice and watched as his eyes ran over your face and body.

“Do you wanna-“ he started but you interrupt him.

“Talk about it? No. I think... I think we just live it for now. We’re in Mykonos, let’s be in Mykonos.” You didn’t want to lose those glasses, you didn’t want to think about your relationship (whatever it was now) or work.

All you wanted was to be with him in this moment, as silly as it was.

“Be in Mykonos... yeah, I can do that.” You could see his face contorting in thought but those features soon relaxed to show a tired smirk.

“Now I’m gonna go take a shower-“ you paused, stomach doing a flip as he sat up and the sun hit his muscular torso, “join me if you want.”

Getting out of bed, you sent him a wink and boy did he wake up quick. 

The two of you spent the morning together in possibly the most domestic thing you’d experienced... after that shower of course. He cooked you a surprisingly delicious breakfast with the few ingredients your contact left in the kitchen and you both actually took a nap. You couldn’t remember napping unless it was due to exhaustion or being injured, but this was just because you could. 

After that the two of you went out into town, Steve worrying about putting on a disguise in public. Not that his disguise of a baseball cap and sunglasses would really do much. You took him shopping, knowing the two of you only had clothes from your previous mission and they were not the cleanest. He let you dress him in a blue button-down and white swim trunks that hugged his ass in a way which nearly made you swoon. You, on the other hand, bought a black bikini and distressed booty shorts which favored your own in the same way. 

The rest of the day was spent on the beach and you could swear you never saw the super soldier have so much fun. 

“Oh my god, you’re too perfect. Like a goddamn Ken doll,” you commented, watching him bask in the sun with his new shirt discarded.

His blonde hair was already lightened by the sun and small freckles dotted his nose.

“Ken doll?” His cheeks were tinted a slight pink at the compliment but nothing could hide the confusion on his face.

“Oh shit- Barbie wasn’t made till later, was she? Eh. Don’t worry, grandpa, I’ll explain it later.” He scoffed at your comment.

“Grandpa? You weren’t calling me grandpa last night... or this morning,” There was a golden smirk on his face that made you roll your eyes with a smile.

“Oh? You’re being cheeky, now?” He laughed, his hand moving to his chest in response.

“Guess you could call it that.” You huffed and laid back down to tan, Captain America was more of a tease than anyone in the world could guess.

“Say.. Doll? You really haven’t gotten in the water yet today. Have you?” You felt your body go rigid at his question, knowing the charming, mischievous tone to his voice too well.

“Rogers, I swear to God.” You warned, sitting up to see him doing the same.

“You shouldn’t swear, Doll. You’re hanging out with a 90 year old man, after all.” He joked and got up.

You took off before he could make a move towards you. Your feet stumbled below you in the sand but running from him of all people was pointless. Steve could outrun cars if he needed to, you were no match. And this was proven true as you were scooped up by two incredibly large arms and tossed onto his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” You scolded, attempting to squirm out of his grip as his direction moved towards the waterline.

“Use my full name all you want, I just think you were looking a little hot there, [Y/n]. If anything you should be thanking me!” He continued to tease while you struggled to get your body away from his.

He was at the water by now and you could feel splashing coming from how fast he waded into the water, all with you yelling at him to put you down. Steve just laughed and stopped when the water got up to his waist, by now half of your legs were covered.

“Put you down? No problem!” He tossed you off of him without a problem while you yelled and fell into the cold water.

You got up with wet hair and a determined pout. Spitting out a bit of salt water that got into your mouth, you stared up at him and for just a moment you almost stopped being mad at him. Steve was laughing with a large grin covering the bottom half of his face, looking like a whole Poseidon with the sea at his hips. But that was a big ‘almost’ because you immediately tackled the super soldier with a yell which caused both of you to tumble into the water. 

You both came back up quickly and his laughter was shared with yours while his arms naturally wrapped around your waist, hugging your body against his own with your cackles. There was just something fantastic about how easily the two of you melded together, bodies curving as if you were always meant to be like this. His hand moved up to your face, palm cupping your cheek as you both calmed down. The blue in his eyes reflected the water as they bore into your own, if time could stop you’d never want this moment to end. But it quickly did when they dipped down to your lips before he brought his down to your own. Your’s and his own lips tasted of salt water, but that soon changed to just his usual taste that was all his own as the kiss got deeper. Your tongues moved in a familiar dance that developed very quickly since your first kiss, it was almost too easy for you to fall in rhythm with him but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The two of you left the beach about an hour later around 6, taking to the town yet again. You fell in step with him, walking and talking through rows of cute boutiques and cafes before deciding to stop at a cute restaurant that overlooked the coast. You ate and drank like normal people would, both of your usual tactical instincts taking a break for a second. Steve’s vision was not looking all over for possible assailants and you weren’t counting every object you could use as a weapon in your mind; you were both just focused on each other.

“So.. is this a date?” He eventually asked and you felt your eyebrows raise.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Wow- I haven’t gone on one of these without doing it for work in a long time.” You thought out loud and he nodded.

“It’s the first successful one I’ve been on. Not easy to find a dame as Captain America.” You took a sip of your wine, feeling the liquid finally affecting you as it had been your third glass.

“No I don’t imagine.” You chuckled before continuing, “I just don’t date. With the job... relationships are hard. They’re dangerous. I could only imagine anyone I’d end up with being dead.” You admitted in a blunt manner.

“Relationship. Is that what we have?” And there he was cracking those rose glasses again.

“Ah! We’re being in Mykonos right now, remember? Those questions are for America Steve and [Y/n].” You leaned forward, dragging your foot up his leg under the table.

Your hand moved to touch his and he could tell what you were doing. He wished he could do it too, but the man was the very definition old fashioned. You didn’t want to bring in the real world, the gravity of your situation. You just wanted him.

“Are you trying to distract me right now?” He smirked and you mirrored the expression easily.

“Maybe. Is it working?” Your fingers crawled up his hand and arm, “What can I say? I have a way with words, Captain.”

Your voice drawled out with the use of that nickname, one which you learned turned him on quite quickly. And it was obvious that it worked as his Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down and his body went rigid.

“I’d say your working with a little more than words right now, Doll.” He chuckled but his cheeks turned red as your foot moved to his inner thigh teasingly.

“Want to do something about it?” His jaw clenched at your suggestion, eyes moving around the restaurant.

“The House is a bit aways from here.” You tilted your head, lips curling into a sultry smile.

“Who said we had to go back there? There’s a bathroom about twenty feet away.” He rolled his head back before meeting your eyes.

“God you are good at that...” he pulled cash from his pocket and placed it under a wine glass on the table, “we gotta be quick though. Don’t know what would happen if someone caught Captain America in a compromising position.”

“Don’t worry, I can be quick.” You sent him a wink and grabbed his hand before getting up.

Your heart raced in your chest as you led him to the single use bathroom, closing and locking the door behind the two of you. He immediately backed you against the door, lips locking in a needy fashion. You were fast to get to work though, hand moving down his pants to palm his already hard bulge.

“In a rush, are we? Captain?” You pulled away from him to see his eyes darkened with a lustful look that made a heat pool between your legs.

“What can I say? You get me, Doll.” His voice was heavier with desire.

You kissed him once more before lowering down to your knees, pulling his shorts and boxers down with you. His cock unfurled for you to gage hungrily before you began to pump it in your hands, immediately making him groan and press a hand against the locked door behind you. 

“You’re sure you want to-“ he began to question in a way that made your heart swell.

It was just a certain amount care that made you feel safe every time you were with him. More care than any one night stand you experienced, more connection. You didn’t even given him a verbal response, nodding before licking up and down his length and taking the head into your mouth.

He gasped, his other hand getting tangled in your hair. You began slowly getting deeper, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked him off. His moans were heaven and at this point you didn’t care if the whole world heard the sounds happening in that restroom. Steve tried to keep quiet but when you began deep-throating him, all bets were off. Your mouth began to get sore from how you worked on his dick but that only pushed you further.

Your pumping got faster and you felt his cock twitch in your mouth as he tightened his grip on your hair, beginning to thrust into your mouth.

“God, [Y/n]...” he groaned out your name and you wear nearly dripping, pussy getting wetter as he began to come undone.

You let him take the reins, your hands gripping his legs tightly as he fucked your face, your name dripping from his lips like whiskey. And it wasn’t long after that that he came, the salty liquid filling your mouth and you swallowed it down. God, you sucked him dry, pulling your mouth off of his cock with a pop that made him even more weak in the knees than he already was. You licked your lips before feeling his hand gently stroke your face before tilting up your chin. He stared down at you before lifting your head up with his fingers, your body moving with the action until you stood before him. You never broke eye contact.

“If this is being in Mykonos then I don’t want to go home.” His eyes crinkled up with the smile on his face and he brought your lips to his own without a second thought.

You never thought giving a blowjob could turn you on so much, but right now you were wetter than the Atlantic Ocean. His hands ran down your waist before he pulled his face away, those hands were fire against your body.

“Me too, Cap. Me too.” You giggled and he pulled his pants up.

You stepped away from him to look into the bathroom mirror. Your [Y/h/l] hair was in knotted beach waves and your cheeks were flushed. His reflection stood behind yours and he joined you, immediately placing his body behind yours and nuzzling his head into your neck. He left kisses along your skin that made you purr. Steve moved up carefully assessing which spots made your breath hitch in the slightest before finding one and sucking on it till you moaned out loud. “Don’t start anything you can’t finish,” his hands snaked around your waist, one trailing down to your shorts and teasing you through the fabric.

You gasped, his reflection quirked up a corner of its lip. 

“I only want to return the favor, Doll. Something tells me I’ve already started something anyways,” Steve whispered into your ear making you grip the sink in order to suppress a moan.

“For only being a virgin yesterday, you catch on quick.” You teased.

“Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks,” he quipped in return before slipping his hand into your shorts.

It was warm and he immediately rubbed circles into your core. You let out a breathy moan.

“Doll, we have to be quiet, remember?” He whispered again but still continued his actions.

You nodded and unbuttoned the shorts, letting them fall at your feet. With the freedom to move he took the opportunity to go deeper, slipping a finger into your sex and pumping it in-and-out of you.

“I really did start something, huh.” Steve said in a low chuckle.

He pulled his hand out for a second, using the hand wrapped around your waist to spin you towards him before picking you up and placing you on top of the sink. You whined at the loss of contact but he was quick to make up for it, pushing two fingers inside of you. You gripped the edge of the sink and his shoulder tight while his head rested in the crook of your neck. One of your hands moved to cover your mouth as you couldn’t contain the dangerous noises he pulled from your lips. His thumb played with your clit and you thought you were seeing stars until his head and body slowly started to move down. He took his hand out and hooked it on your panties to flick them off, then spreading your legs as he knelt on the floor in front of you.

“Are you- are we really doing this?” You were grinning like an idiot and Steve nodded his head.

Damn, if he wasn’t a fast learner.

“Anything for my Best Girl.” He shot you a wink and got to work.

His tongue slipped inside of you which elicited a high-pitched gasp from you. Your hand covered your mouth again and you could tell that you were already dripping for him. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, keeping you in place for him. Your hand that no longer held onto his shoulder was now tousled in his blonde hair, pulling at it as Steve hit those little spots in all the right ways. Head thrown back and back arched at this point, you were already coming to the edge. The way his tongue moved inside of you was purely sinful and soon enough your moans turned into screams that your hand could barely cover. His hands grew tighter on your thighs and there was sure to be bruises but you didn’t care. Your mind couldn’t even process how he was this good, but it was like he knew your body in and out. He so easily slipped into the places that made you shiver and soon enough your breaths were quickening, eyes closing tight as he ate you out. You wouldn’t be surprised if your wetness was on the floor by now because you were coming for him like no tomorrow, releasing an orgasm you never even realized you could feel. He licked up what he could before looking up at you, taking pride in your exhausted form which sat slumped on the sink.

“You’re too good at that, Rogers.” You hopped off and got dressed, giving him a quick peck on the lips as you did so.

“Hey… I can do this all day.” He joked with a smirk and you felt yourself laughing ridiculously.

The two of you wiped down what you could, feeling bad for doing the things you did in a public bathroom. No matter how sexy it was. And then you slipped out of the restaurant with red cheeks, hoping to god no one heard the things coming from in there.

You both walked back to the house, stopping to grab two pints of sorbet at a corner store before getting to the place. Was this what normal was? Just two people spending the day together to come back to the same place? You knew this was only Mykonos, a vacation, but part of you began wondering what would happen when it was over. Your feelings for Steve were dangerously huge by now and you weren’t sure of what to do. Those rose-colored glasses had finally slipped off and you dreaded ever leaving that island.

Steve sat in the living room and you grabbed spoons from the kitchen. You stepped out to see his relaxed from lounging on the couch, eyes on the tv the two of you still hadn’t managed to use.

“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked and plopped down next to him with desserts in hand.

“Here’s your vanilla, Oldie.” He took it from you with a chuckle.

“I’m a classic man, sue me. But yeah, I’m good for a movie. You’ll have to pick it out though cause I would probably accidentally find the worst movie I could.” You nodded and grabbed the remote, sticking your spoon into your raspberry sorbet.

You were searching through the on demand list when Steve’s phone began ringing. It didn’t take much to guess who it was and you frowned as he picked it up. The real world was coming back too soon. He rubbed a comforting hand o your shoulder before standing up with the call. It was fifteen minutes before the call ended and you felt your stomach sink.

“That was Fury. We have a mission back home... he sent a jet for us.” Steve got out in an almost monotonous manner and you groaned but got up from the couch as well.

“Well at least we got a good 24 hours.” You commented as you headed back to your bedroom with Steve in tow.

He walked into his own across the hall and the two of you were ready to leave too quickly. This felt abrupt to you, already going back for missions with your mind slipping into the same defensive mechanisms it always did. What would happen between you and the soldier? You knew that a genuine relationship would be a bad idea. People in your line of work never had relationships, they were too messy and dangerous. And with your partner nonetheless! The idea scared you. You would both have two very physical weaknesses in the eyes of your enemies, and now you couldn’t imagine what you’d do if Steve was ever hurt. You cared too much and it terrified you.

After cleaning what the two of you could in the place, you locked it up and followed him to a small jet that rested on the beach. Steve was just as quiet as you were so you assumed his mind was in the same state. You both amble on and sit across from each other in the cabin. It’s silent as the jet takes off and you bite your lip before grabbing his hand across the aisle.

“Steve... what are you thinking? About this... us I guess.” You never felt so small.

You didn’t know what you wanted him to think. If he agreed with your thoughts of ending it, it’d be easier to get over it but at the same time you also naively hoped his feelings for you were just as big.

“It wouldn’t be smart for us to do the whole relationship thing, would it?” He looked at you with those serious blue eyes and you felt your heart break.

“Mykonos stays in Mykonos, then?” You kept a straight face, work instincts taking over.

“Yeah, Partner. Mykonos stays in Mykonos.” He gave you a false smile and you let go of his hand feeling a sudden coldness in your chest you couldn’t describe.

But this seemed like the best decision. You both couldn’t get hurt if you didn’t start anything real. There was a part of you that was concerned though. If you were to continue working together, knowing how well your bodies fit together... would you be able to resist him? The way the two of you moved, it was instinct and natural. You were animals. 

And you didn’t know how long you’d last fighting against that.

[owlespresso]

Mating Season / Hawks / 1

New multi-part series!! Commissions are closed but my tip jar is still open! I write headcanons in exchange for donations! If you’re interested, check it out HERE.

Mid-winter is by far one of the worst times of the year. It’s fucking cold. And the sun sets at like three in the afternoon. It tires you out easily, which means you can’t get as much work done as you’d like. Your numb eyes stare across the street as people mill by. 

The light is still green, much to your displeasure. At your side, Hawks fidgets, his wings curled tight to his body in an attempt to preserve body warmth. He seems colder than you are, despite his heavy jacket. Doesn’t he ever get hot in that thing?

You’ve seen him wear it during spring, too. On magazine covers and pictures in newspapers and the like.

Then again, you’ve only been living with him for a month. And it’s a strictly business arrangement, anyways. His fashion sense is fine, barring the backless shirts he often wears out of convenience. It’s hard to keep your eyes off the finely-tuned muscles of his back, so you scold him and tell him to be more modest to cover up how flustered you get.

“We didn’t have to go out today, you know?” You look up at him with curious eyes, “I mean, I appreciate this. But you seem really cold.” Two hours ago, you complained about how pricey certain clothing brands could be. Hawks immediately insisted that he take you to the nearest shopping center, with an unusual amount of fervency. 

Of course, he teased you about being your “sugar daddy”. But you can’t deny that it’s rather gentlemanly of him to try and buy you nice things, especially when you’re not actually dating him. Sure, you’ve come to like him. Probably more than you should. But he’s the number two hero and is probably busier than you can imagine.

“No, absolutely not,” He huffs, “You cannot say that to me after I flew us all the way over here.” Regardless, he doesn’t look as annoyed as he might hope. “After all, what kind of guy would I be if I didn’t buy you some nice things every now and then? If you want, there’s this really cute lingerie store we can—”

“I know,” You cut him off, giving him a stinging glare, “but if you get a cold, it’s gonna be my fault,” The light goes red and pedestrians file across the street in a semi-orderly fashion. “And I know you’ll guilt me into taking care of you.”

“You’re saying you wouldn’t take care of me? Wouldn’t even some chicken noodle soup for lil ole me?” He shoots you an amused glance. Inwardly, you know you probably would—damn the guy and his incredibly convincing puppy dog eyes. Before you can roll your eyes and tell him to make his own damn soup, you feel a looming warmth behind you. Your gae darts back and you find yourself bewildered when you see that one of his wings is curled around your back, sheltering you from the cold. Huh. He’s never done that before. Granted, you’ve only lived with him for a month. And spent much less time together.

As much as you would like to hang out more often, you wouldn’t demand his time.

“I’m pretty sure you could manage to make your own damn soup, number two hero.” You turn your attention back in front of you, disregarding the warmth swelling on your face.

“Really? How heartless.” You cringe as he begins to teasingly guilt you, but several squeals ring out as you enter the mall. A gaggle of pretty young women turns out to be your savior.

“Meet me at Bloomingdale's when you’re done.” You drawl and nudge him with your elbow. He rolls his eyes and looks like he wants to yell you off, but his adoring fans descend upon him and he’s once again all smiles and rainbows. You slink of before they can catch more than a glimpse of you. Fortunately, you’re an expert escape artist. Had you been a lesser person, the press would have jumped all over you months ago. Still, you couldn’t help the twinge of displeasure that strikes when you think of him surrounded by other, possibly prettier women.

It’s stupid, you think yourself as you stride down the shiny, chrome halls. You pass miscellaneous boutiques and sleek storefronts, able to weave in and out of the crowd without drawing attention. Still, it’s nearly impossible to smother the feeling that’s bubbling within. Not even internally mocking gaudy jewelry stores as you pass helps. Emotions just suck, you reason. It’ll go away eventually. It’ll go away.

The smell of churros draws your attention to one of the nearby food booths. Curse this capitalist establishment and its glorious, handmade pretzel stands. It’s agonizing to turn away from, but you know Hawks will bug you for any food you buy. It’ll just be easier to wait for him. 

You sit on one of the classy but uncomfortable benches near the store and pass time by pestering your friends in a group chat. Not many people are available, since it’s the middle of a work day, but a few of them immediately pop in just to tease you about Hawks. Those fuckers. After clarifying that no—you’re not dating Hawks (for the fourth of fifth time in a row), you close the chat and fume quietly.

“You waiting on someone?” A voice purrs slowly, behind you. Figures the moment you want to be left alone, some douche comes to piss you off. Your elbow rests on the back of the bench and you crane your head to look at him. Blonde hair, green eyes, freckles. Nothing outlandish, nothing much.

“No. Leave me alone.” You say, shooting him the most menacing glare you can muster. The guy seems to blink at that.

“Alright,” His voice abandons the sultry tone it had adopted, but he doesn’t leave. He shuffles to stand in front of you and reaches out, offering… your wallet!? You blink up at him, “Yeah. Probably shouldn’t have sounded like such a douche, but you dropped your wallet,” He sheepishly rubs the back of his head as you gently take it from him, opening it. Your gaze roams along the various pockets. Once you deem that nothing had been taken, you turn your gaze back up to him. “I was tryna come off as smooth. Sorry if I offended. I was gonna use it as a segway to ask you to lunch… Or something.”

You know to not trust anyone, especially guys who randomly walk up to you in public. Regardless, you shrug.

“‘S no problem. Just keep in mind that most girls don’t like when you try to act ‘smooth’,” He seems to deflate at that, and you realize just how young he looks. Rounded cheeks, uncertain expression, a glimmer in his eye that people your age usually lack. Phrasing it like that makes you feel old, but it's an unpleasant truth. Is he a highschooler? You wonder, but you don't bother asking. “But thanks for bringing it back to me, kid.”

“It’s no problem, I–”

“You were just about to leave her alone, right?” Hawks’s voice is syrupy sweet when he cuts in, standing behind the kid with a plastic smile. It’s a grin but its threatening undertones are unmistakable. You've never seen him wear such a hostile expression, too accustomed to the genuine mirth he usually wears like a crown. The feeling in the air has shifted and wrinkled like aluminum foil being crushed in a tight fist. It’s jarring and it’s unpleasant, but you don’t know why it’s here.

The kid seems to shudder, his eyes growing wide. He mutters something rushed, like “yes, sir” and scrambles off, head down. You immediately feel a sense of pity, because you can't imagine how being threatened by the beloved, number two hero must feel.

For a moment, silence settles. Only the loud hum of people walking back and forth, talking to each other, crowding along the chrome halls, reaches you. It’s a new type of silence. As much as you’d like to ask why he just intimidated and scared off a literal child, you don’t know Hawks well enough to judge if that’s a good idea or not.

It’s still baffling, because he’s usually so good in public. He stops to sign autographs and take pictures with eager fans, he’s gentle and caring with children… so why this? The question lingers on the tip of your tongue.

“Sorry for the wait,” He turns around to face you, and his smile is genuine again. It’s syrup and honey, so dazzling that any questions beginning to form vanish in the back of your throat. “You ready?”

“Y-Yeah.” You nod, pushing your feet to move. You don’t know where you want to go, but you know that you don’t want to stay in the middle of the corridor, because people are starting to stare and the air feels stifling.