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epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 2 years

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The Other Woman | Steve Rogers

▹ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader | Implied potential Bucky x Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~3.4k

▹ Summary: Steve had told you Peggy was his past, yet when time travel becomes an option, it turns out you were the other woman all along.

▹ Notes: I just like to be sad I guess. I have also decided to open my requests! I think I need some new inspiration while I work on some other pieces :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You were trapped, stuck in a fantasy you'd created on how things were supposed to be. Time seemed to drag on. It could've been an eternity or just a minute that passed, you wouldn’t have known the difference.

You stared out the window, mesmerized by the water as it washed away any remnants of the past five years. The meteorologists were predicting this storm would be one of the worst of this year. It was poetic, almost like the flood in Noah's Arc, if you believed in that sort of thing. Droplets clung to your window and obscured your vision making everything outside blurry and unimportant. Incense hung thickly in the air, the smell of smoke from the match you struck burning your nostrils. A lukewarm cup of hot chocolate rested on your side table, relatively untouched. You’d lost the appetite for it shortly after making it. It had been a force of habit, an old routine you hadn’t quite shaken.

Four months, and all you had to show for it was sleepless nights, tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. You still couldn't find it in yourself to begin the process of moving on. To pack away the photos that littered your home. To get rid of him.

You half expected your front door to swing open. For him to burst in with his winning smile and bright eyes. He’d grab you in his arms and hold you tightly, thankful that the both of you had made it out alive. Two rounds with Thanos and neither of you died. Everything would be fairytale perfect: the world was safe, you weren't fugitives anymore, and Steve finally had Bucky back. That's how it should've been.

But he didn’t.

Steve never came back. Those fantasies and dreams were dashed and divided, like glass shattering on the hard floor. Millions of shards created thousands of open wounds.

He didn’t die a heroic death, sacrificing himself as Nat and Tony had. He chose to leave you. To stay in the past, a world he assured you he long ago made peace with losing. Swore to you that Peggy was nothing more than a fond memory he cherished like his old war buddies.

‘She’s nothing compared to my girl.’ he’d always say. The words that used to quell your deepest fears and insecurities now felt hollow. You were always the other woman. It just took you four years to discover that. All the years you’d wasted, the opportunities you’d passed up when you'd gone on the run for him. It had all been pointless.

He never even said goodbye. Steve couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes as he broke your heart. You had to learn the truth from Bucky, a man you only knew by association. Sam had been there too, hand on your shoulders, holding you up as your whole world crumbled. You were barely coming to terms with the fact that Nat was gone, and now you’d have to live in a world without either of them.

Figures formed in the haze of the low fog the rain had brought. It brought buried memories to the forefront of your mind. Tears clouded your vision, making everything out of focus. A single tear fell, your first meeting with Steve playing behind your eyes like a movie.

----

“So it’s true then, Captain America is defrosted and ready for action.” Your voice was soft, a bite of snark hidden deep under the sweetness of it. You crept up behind the super soldier, but he’d known you were there. You weren’t a trained assassin, nor did you ever claim to be. Just someone good with a gun and even better at executing orders, even if not in the manner originally intended.

Steve turned, a polite smile on his face. He seemed confused and disoriented, like an old man trying to keep up with technology. An accurate description of Steve Rogers. The sun shone in his eyes, making them shine like light against blue waters. He was attractive, obnoxiously so. With perfectly tousled blonde hair, a strong jaw, and lips that looked too soft to not want to kiss.

“Ready and willing to jump back into action when I’m needed,” he said, holding a hand out for you to shake as you closed the distance separating you. He was even taller up close, nearly a foot taller than you. Which was new, you weren’t exactly short. “But please, call me Steve.”

You took his hand in yours, enjoying the sensation of his calloused and much larger hands in yours. All too quickly the handshake ended and he was retracting his touch.

“Y/N.” It was all you said, allowing yourself to stare into his blue eyes for one last moment before steeling yourself to distractions. This was a mission, not meet your local fossil at the Smithsonian. But that train of thought was harder to hold onto every time his arm gently brushed against yours.

“There’s quite the buzz around here, You’re all anyone can talk about,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, mindful to keep your gaze professional.

“I didn’t think I’d be that exciting of a topic,” he said, an easy smile on his face as he looked around the helicarrier.

“Please, America’s hero melted and returned to modern America is cause for talk. Coulson swooned so hard he nearly fell to the floor,” you said, a whisper of a laugh at the edge of your words. Steve paused, turning to face you and you mirrored the action. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, he was much closer than he had been a minute or so ago.

“And you, Agent Y/N?” he asked, a slight red hue dusting his cheeks. The grin on your face widened, eyes softening as you allowed yourself to get lost in his eyes one more time. “How do you feel?”

“Very happy to have you with us today, Captain.”

The grin on his face turned softer as the flush on his face got brighter. At that moment you noticed small flecks of green in his eyes.

“You always were my favorite part about learning about WWII in school.”

With a single pat on his shoulder, you continued making your way to the meeting room Fury and the others would be waiting in.

---

Christmas lights glistened in the large room, chatter and laughter in every corner. The room was grand, ostentatiously so. With vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and pretentious art that only had value because a bunch of rich people decided it did. Women in beautiful dresses of various dark shades were lit up with glittering jewels while men wore extravagant suits that were probably more expensive than your rent. The holiday gala had been in full swing for two hours now. The alcohol had made everyone's eyes glossy and lips loose.

You hung close to the bar, swirling the straw your drink had been served with. Your free hand rested on the bartop, manicured nails tapping against the wood. You were never good in events like this, all the glitz, glamor, and underhanded words. You were awkward and unsure of yourself outside of the battlefield. Fancy galas and parties exasperated that clumsy attitude. So you preferred to stick to the bar, hoping to get through the night with as little interaction as possible.

“What’s a pretty gal like yourself doing all by herself?” the voice of Steve Rogers said, interrupting your awkward fidgeting. You turned, a pleasant smile overtaking your frown. Steve was standing right behind you, dressed in a simple black suit. In comparison to everyone around him, the outfit was plain, but Steve made it look anything but that. He made everything he wore look breathtaking. It was infuriating.

“Just waiting for a fella to come sweep me off my feet,” you said, a coy grin pulling on your lips. One of your hands smoothed down your knee-length black dress. Steve’s smile broadened and he held out a single hand.

“Then how about a dance?”

You didn’t answer him, simply taking his hand in yours. He pulled you towards the center of the room, the sound of your heels matching the pace of your heart. People parted for the two of you like the Red Sea, all the attention on you and Steve. Anxiety began to rise in your stomach, nearly causing your throat to close up. But you glanced up, meeting Steve’s blue eyes that were as deep and vast as the ocean. In the most cliche way, everyone in the room became formless blurs. All that mattered was Steve and his hands that circled your waist, pulling you closer to him than probably necessary. You relished the proximity though, his heartbeat matching pace with yours, his warmth heating your chilled skin.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, the tips of your nails gently grazing his skin. Slowly, the two of you began to sway with the gentle piano that filled the room. The both of you wore matching smiles that were brighter than any lights in the room. Steve raised his hand, coaxing you to spin. The wind caused your hair to fan out, creating a halo effect as you did. The spin was more clumsy than you would’ve wanted, causing a shy giggle to leave your lips.

“I’m not very good at this,” you muttered a dusting of red on your cheeks. Steve’s grip tightened slightly, amplifying the butterflies that had been exploding in your stomach since he first approached you.

“It’s okay, neither am I,” Steve said. His smile quelled the insecurities that lingered in the back of your mind. In and out, you took a steady breath.

“You seem to be hiding it better than I am,” you said in a slightly sardonic tone, your nose scrunching for a moment. Steve shook his head, a whisper of laughter leaving his mouth. The soft sound sent your heart racing and caused your mind to turn white.

“Trust me, I’m not. See.” Steve unwrapped one of his arms from your waist, holding it out to you. You grabbed it, feeling his hand shaking. “You’ve got me seeing stars, doll.”

You’re silent for a moment, a dumb smile stuck on your face as you looked at Steve with adoration in your widened eyes. You grasped at straws, trying to think of something clever to say. But there was just static. You’d secretly been hoping for your friendship with Steve to blossom into more, and now it seemed you were getting your wish. You wanted to pinch yourself if only to see this was a dream.

Steve didn’t talk, content to watch you struggle with breathing properly. His smile was lazy, head tilted slightly to the left like a cute puppy. His eyes were filled with adoration that was directed at you. Something you’d wanted from the moment he first spoke.

“How long have you been holding onto that one, Cap?” you finally uttered after a few seconds of long silence.

“The moment we met, back on the helicarrier. Just been working up the courage to let ya know,” he said, his cheeks as equally as rosy as yours.

“Well--” you lifted Steve’s hand, spinning once again. This one was much smoother than the previous, Steve’s confession giving you a burst of confidence. “If it took nearly a year for you to tell me that, how long until you ask me out?”

After you spun, Steve's hand wrapped around your waist, both hands holding you close. You reveled in the feeling of being trapped in his arms, chest to chest and eye to eye.

“I’m free this Friday. We could go out to dinner, maybe go dancing after if you’re up for it,” Steve said.

“Oh I’m up for it Rogers,” you said, resting your head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He leaned his head down, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It was gentle and over quicker than you would’ve liked, but you closed your eyes, imprinting the moment in your brain.

---

Something was wrong, you could feel it. There wasn’t anything tangible that set the paranoia off, no action or word was spoken that would stoke your fear. You shouldn't feel this way, but the pit in your stomach wouldn’t go away.

You brushed it off, the death of Nat and Tony had shaken you, especially with them being so close together. That had to be why there was a lump in your throat that wouldn’t go away. It had to be why you were imagining that Steve hadn’t been able to look you in the eyes for two weeks now. Or why he would brush you off when you’d try to grab his hand or hold onto him for comfort. None of those things were happening, you were just imagining them.

But even as you were thinking it, you knew it was pure delusion. You could read the writing on the wall.

Steve had been off the moment he returned from retrieving the stone. You’d been so wrapped up in losing Nat, that you never lingered on the implications that could have for the future of your relationship. There had been some complications and Steve and Tony had to go farther back to get the Tesseract. If you’d had a clearer mind, you would’ve understood the distant look in Steve’s eyes.

He’d seen her, Peggy. That sighting was all it took to give him doubts. You never confronted him, of course, too cowardly to face that your relationship was crumbling. You loved Steve, you'd stuck by his side for four years, enduring the worst so you could keep him. The thought that it would've all been for nothing was terrifying. So instead you tucked yourself into bed every night, promising you’d bring it up the next day, only for the cycle to repeat.

Most days you awoke hoping this had all been a terrible nightmare, but that never happened.

‘Just one last thing, and then everything can go back to normal,’ you told yourself. Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce were all outside, a little ways away from the small home Pepper had. Steve was going to return the stones, and then this whole thing with Thanos would finally be put to rest.

You were at the sink, handwashing the same five dishes. It was therapeutic to have something to focus on. It kept your mind off of thoughts that you’d done your hardest to shove into the darkest recesses of your mind. Tears pricked at your eyes and your grip on the ceramic cup tightened. You clenched your jaw, inhaling then sharply exhaling.

‘Don’t cry, not here.’

Morgan and Pepper were somewhere nearby, their voices filtering into the kitchen from somewhere deeper in the house. You wouldn’t want either of them to walk in on you having a breakdown. Because if so, then you’d have to explain why you were sobbing in the middle of the kitchen. It would legitimize your fears, making the inevitable end of your relationship real.

By chance you glanced up, seeing Sam and Bucky standing with each other, but no Steve. Their backs were to you as they looked at something you couldn't quite see. A moment later Sam walked forward, slowly and almost unsure.

A glint of metal in the light caught your eye, causing you to drop the glass in your hand. The shield. Steve’s shield. You could make out the bold, red, white, and blue coloring with the large star in the center. Even from this distance, it stuck out like a sore thumb.

'No, no, no, no--'

Panic surged through your body, the lump in your throat getting worse. You could hardly breathe as you forced the door open, rushing outside. The cold air hit your face, making your hair whip around. Clumsily you ran down the steps of the porch, bare feet touching green grass.

Closer now you could see an old man. Sam and Bucky were with him, helping him get into a car. The air was knocked out of your lungs and you nearly fell over. Tears broke through the damn you’d created, staining your cheeks red and splotchy. You inhaled sharply, gasping for air.

The old man was Steve. You stood there like a fish gasping for air as you realized the man you’d loved had abandoned you without so much as a word. It was only after the car was out of sight that your mind fully processed what had happened.

Bucky and Sam turned, seeing you standing there completely still, the only noise you could make was a choked sob.

'He left. He just--'

---

You opened your eyes, grabbed the mug of cold hot chocolate, and walked towards the sink. The drink poured out of the cup and down the drain, washed away with warm water. In complete silence, you stood there with your head in your hands. The breath you’d been holding left your mouth, slowly. A few stray tears lingered, and you scrubbed your face, trying to destroy the evidence of your crying.

A knock on your front door chased away the silence. It was startling, pulling you out of your melancholic state. You straightened your back, hands smoothing your clothes and hair as you walked to the door.

In and out.

You let out one last breath before opening the door.

Bucky Barnes stood on the other side, his previously long hair cut short, more like the style he wore back in the 40s. He was dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt. His metal arm poked out from the sleeve of his leather jacket causing it to gleam in the dim lighting. A large grin lit up his face, making his ever-tired blue eyes brighter than usual. He held a grocery bag in his dominant hand and leaned nonchalantly against your doorway.

“I thought we’d try our hand at making something for once instead of ordering out,” he said. A tentative smile blossomed on your face, stepping aside for Bucky to freely enter the apartment. He’d started coming by two weeks after Steve left, mumbling something about not wanting you to have to be alone. Though you both knew he needed the company as much as you.

“Oh, you might regret that Barnes. I don’t think either of us has the natural talent to cook,” you said, following him into the kitchen. He took off his jacket, setting it on the back of one of your chairs.

“I’ll have you know I make a mean batch of pancakes,” he said as he pulled grocery items out of the bag.

“That doesn't mean shit. Everyone knows that waffles are superior,” you smugly said. Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking his head as his lips pressed into a thin line.

“What? Not even close, waffles are so hard and difficult to chew, pancakes are so soft and fluffy,” he said.

“Waffles are fluffy too!”

“Not like pancakes!” Bucky fired right back.

“Besides, waffles are not hard, you just always burn them,” you said.

“That was one time!”

The two of you continued to playfully banter, poking and prodding each other with quips as you cooked in your tiny kitchen. It was a relief to not have your thoughts constantly wander to Steve every five seconds. At some point he melted away completely, leaving only you and Bucky in the candlelight glow of your apartment. At some point, he'd become your rock, the one thing keeping you from going completely adrift. The time spent with Bucky was an escape, a chance for you to pretend you hadn't been completely shattered.

You smiled at a stupid joke he'd made, a sarcastic quip snapped at him like a whip. You both sat on your couch, eating the food that had taken far longer than necessary to make. But you weren't mad, in fact, you hoped the raging storm outside would be enough excuse for him to stay the night. If only to avoid the feeling of drowning that always followed Bucky's absence.

Yet you couldn't ignore the flutter of your heart or the lightheaded feeling whenever Bucky laughed. You didn't acknowledge it, simply relishing in the moments spent together. The hole Steve had left behind slowly filled each day Bucky smiled at you like that.

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imagineanythings · 6 months

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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.

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shedobewritingalittle · 1 year

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Somebody Else

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: As her marriage starts to fall apart, the reader must make a decision.

Rating: R

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, anxiety, depression

A/N: So I wrote this before I got on anti-depressants so it sucks.

Her hands gripped the ice cold porcelain as she screwed her eyes shut, forcing herself to even out her breathing. The room was spinning all around her and her skin was burning, her blood sizzling-or was it boiling? She was constantly rethinking everything these days.

The scene from moments ago appears in her mind. The way that his eyes had brightened when she had entered the room. The air had immediately been sucked out of Y/N's lungs as she had followed his trail of vision. Her stomach had sunk like a stone, but she still kept that stupid smile plastered on her face, looking back at the cameras like nothing had happened, like nothing was amiss. Suddenly, his arm around her waist had felt like a million knives digging into her skin and she couldn't get off that red carpet fast enough. Tony and Pepper had both noticed the change in her, their eyes slowly moving from her to her husband, to the woman he was currently staring at.

Her gown suddenly felt too tight, like it was a boa constrictor curling itself around her more and more until it became impossible to breathe. The jewels around her throat had started to dig into her skin. The pins in her hair started to give her a migraine. Her perfume was making her sick, her makeup burned her skin.

She had just wanted one day-one God damned day to play pretend once more. That's all she had asked for and he couldn't even give her that. No-No, apparently that was asking for too much.

Why was she here? Why was she here?

Her eyes open and she stares at herself in the mirror. Tears have filled her eyes, threatening to ruin her makeup. She leaned over the sink, looking down at the drain as she felt a bout of nausea strike her. Acid rose up in her throat, but she forced it back down. She didn't want to make a mess of things.

Pull yourself together.

Someone knocks on the door in that moment, calling out to her, asking her if she's okay. She wants to scream, wants to yell that she isn't-that she hasn't been okay. She wants to yell that she hasn't been okay for fucking years, but she doesn't. No, no she just asks for a minute-for just one more minute to put the pieces of herself back together, like she has been doing for months and months. She hopes and prays that her voice doesn't betray her in that moment as she stands up straight. She grabs a paper towel from its dispenser, using it to carefully soak up the tears before they have a chance to fall. She reapplies her lipstick with the precision of a surgeon. She cleans her hands before fixing her gown, making sure it's perfect.

It always perfect-She has to always be perfect. No matter what. No matter how he treats her, she must remain perfect.

She gives herself one last look in the mirror, grabs her forgotten clutch off of one of the sinks before turning on her heel. She quickly unlocks the door and pulls it open, but immediately wishes she hadn't. Tony is standing there, his eyebrows furrowed together as he studies her face. She wonders how long had been standing there, about how much he had heard. Her poker face immediately melts away, disappearing completely underneath his gaze. He knows why she's upset. Tony knows everything.

"We can go. We made an appearance-Pepper already has a side entrance we can use-" He starts, talking fast and low as the door swings shut behind her. Immediately, she's shaking her head and shutting her eyes again. The bile is rising in her throat again and she forces it back down once more. She moves to rest against the wall, needed to feel the cool surface against her skin.

Pull yourself fucking together.

"I-I just need a minute." She replies, her heart racing in her chest as she tries to get herself in order again, gripping the small bag tightly in her hands. Her eyes open and she looks up at the ceiling, rapidly blinking the tears that had started to fill her eyes once more. "I just need a minute."

Tony had been the first person to know, had been the first one she had told. She told him how she had smelled the perfume, how she had a found a smidge of lipstick on one of his workout shirts, a shade of which she didn't own (She didn't mention how she had almost obsessively compared each and every shade she own in order to make sure, in order to give her husband the benefit of the doubt). How she had started to notice the looks, the touches, how he had started to put his phone face down. Five years of dating, five more years of marriage just down the drain.

Tony had asked her what she wanted to do, if she needed a lawyer. Pepper had asked what she wanted to be done on the PR side of things-how they had wanted to spin this. Y/N had just asked for time-she just needed some time to wrap her mind around the fact that the man she loves no longer loved her.

That had been six months ago.

Six months of endless emotional torture that she had been putting herself through as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do. She kept trying to give him second chances, but second chances quickly turned into third and fourth. Y/N had spent a decade with this man and she had loved him-she still loves him. She knew she couldn't do this forever, she knew that she shouldn't be doing this to herself. She was trapped-Oh God, she was trapped.

Suddenly, she couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs.

Tears filled her eyes once again and her chest ached. One of her hands reached up to try to pull at the necklace she was wearing, as if that was cutting off her air flow. She felt like she was dying.

"Hey-Hey, come on-Just relax." Tony walks over to her, rubbing her back slightly awkwardly as he tried to calm her down. He knew he wasn't the best at this, but they both knew that he was trying his hardest, "Come on in-And out. There go, just like that."

The thought of going back out there to find Steve makes her want to empty her stomach all over Tony's Jimmy Choo dress shoes. She dreads getting back into the car with him and driving back to a house that has never felt like a home- a house he had wanted, filled with everything he had wanted, filled with only his memories. Her stomach is in knots at the thought of spending another moment with her husband and she hates that she feels like that. She screws her eyes shut, trying to calm herself down, trying to bring herself back down to earth.

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Tony. I really can't." The words tumble out of her mouth as soon as she catches her breath, tears spilling out and rolling down her cheeks, "I can't fucking do this anymore. I can't-I can't-"

"Okay. That's okay." Tony responds with a nod as Pepper walks down the hallway in that moment, clutching her phone in her hands. Her eyes immediately land on Y/N, who is currently hunched over and looking like she was about to pass out at any moment.

"I'm so sorry I didn't-I was told she wasn't coming." She immediately starts, looking incredibly concerned as they both turn to look at Pepper. Y/N stands up a bit straighter and pushes off the wall, her cheeks wet with mascara tinged tears.

"It's-It's fine-I-Can we just go?" Y/N asks, her voice sounding a lot smaller than she meant it to be. She feels small, like a child-like a toddler. Pepper looks soften and she nods, her eyes glancing quickly to look at Tony. He just nods in response.

"Yeah of course. Let's-Just follow me, okay?" Pepper offers and Y/N nods, giving her a small smile. Tony throws his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they follow Pepper, keeping their heads down as the weave through the crowds of people at the gala, the sounds around her suddenly muffled. Y/N doesn't try to look for her husband amongst the partygoers-no, she just keeps on walking, going down a service hallway. They walk past waiters and chefs as they move into the kitchen, trying their best to stay out of the way.

And with every step, with every tear that continues to slip out of her eyes, she knows that there isn't any going back. She can feel her clutch vibrating, her phone desperately trying to get her attention. Y/N knows who is calling, knows who is suddenly concerned over her absence. Maybe someone had finally asked where she was and it finally clicked in his head that she was gone. Maybe he had excused himself and she had furrowed her brows at him before excusing herself, following hot on his heels.

Her phone buzzes incessantly, like the cicadas at the height of summer. And just like the cicadas, she just tunes them out as she climbs into the waiting car. The phone stays in her bag and she doesn't even notice when it stops ringing. Maybe he got the hint or maybe he got distracted by his paramour once more. It doesn't matter anymore, nothing does. Y/N rests her head on the car window as the city turns into blur around her, the tears drying on her cheeks.

She feels numb, not knowing what was going to happen next, not knowing fully what she was going to do. All she knew was that her marriage was over, but she didn't know if she even cared that is was. She didn't know what that said about her, about her situation, but she wasn't focused on that right now. All she was focused on was that she was going to be okay. Somehow, someway, she was going to be okay.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #tony stark x reader #chris evans x reader #Steve Rogers #captain america x reader #captain america/reader #avengers fic

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espinosaurusrexex · 5 months

Text

Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)

word count: 10.8k

warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck.

You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.

It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things.

There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home.

The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again.

❁ ❁ ❁

It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.

The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did.

The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away.

You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you.

“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul.

Holy Shit.

Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer.

Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.

“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”

Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare.

“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.

“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.

“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you.

Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.

The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it.

You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner.

“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve.

“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.

“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”

His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement.

“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”

“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.

Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”

Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again.

Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen.

As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly.

❁ ❁ ❁

“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.”

“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar.

Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid.

“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.

“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table.

“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City.

It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted.

Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.”

“Just shut up, punk.”

“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.”

Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible.

But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends.

He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction.

“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”

“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them.

“You aren’t serious.”

“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup.

“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.”

“You’re rich, too, Sam.”

Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.

“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.”

Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.”

Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now.

“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked.

And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great.

By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.

You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.

Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite.

With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule.

You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do.

You knew better though.

People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible.

Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.

Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so.

So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work.

Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home.

Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.

He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him.

The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right.

Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary.

It was worrisome.

He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him.

He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.

You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet.

“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.”

Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“

“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?”

Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock.

“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little.

“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore.

You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way.

He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward.

“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.”

His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”

He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall.

After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through.

Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back.

The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions.

He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty.

The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet.

You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit.

“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise.

“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that.

“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage.

But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”

“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.”

You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him.

“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude.

“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.”

“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.

You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long.

“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”

“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you.

“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips.

“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”

“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent.

“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”

Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler.

“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”

“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard.

“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool.

“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy.

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture.

Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you.

It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there.

Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.

It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before.

“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there.

Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off.

The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was.

Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell.

His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants.

He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants.

“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip.

His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video.

Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress.

Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer.

For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream.

Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises.

“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”

“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”

“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”

“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying.

“So...?”

“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”

“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?

“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks.

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter.

You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated.

Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again.

Happy one month!

Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.

Happy one month.

You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.

You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing!

“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed.

“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet.

“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.”

Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.

With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work.

It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office.

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong.

Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set.

But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good.

“Hello?”

“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.

“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”

“What? When?”

“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet.

“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end.

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk.

You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.

❁ ❁ ❁

8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island.

Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were.

To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top.

“You forgot your flowers.”

“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too.

“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”

His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say.

“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now.

“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”

“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near.

“Can I trust you?”

His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”

“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch.

Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display.

You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?

His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face.

So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well.

Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours.

Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently.

Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace.

No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air.

Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his.

“You’re very good at this.”

He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.”

Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.

“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine.

“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient.

“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.”

You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”

“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them.

You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”

His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core.

“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world.

“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.”

In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.”

“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.”

“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more.

“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind.

“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out.

“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”

“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything.

You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?

“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”

“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you.

His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure.

He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs.

You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him.

“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”

“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm.

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”

You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating.

“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again.

“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”

His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder.

“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.

“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”

“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach.

“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”

“I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind.

“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”

“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer.

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest.

Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you.

“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”

And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.

He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him.

A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure.

But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone.

“Good morning, Sharon.”

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”

“What? Until when?”

“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”

“Do you know what she has?”

“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”

Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head.

“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away.

“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant.

“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as.

Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker.

“Hello?”

Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful.

“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?

“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning.

“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?

“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”

You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.

So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts.

First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m.

It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.

His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything.

The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud.

Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was.

You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly.

His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom.

He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard.

“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated.

“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off.

“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.

You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.

Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.

Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by.

You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead.

In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.

Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–

*smack*

His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin.

“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt.

It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra.

“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”

He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”

You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”

Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them.

“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat.

He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”

“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right.

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.”

He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”

“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist.

Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”

He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much.

His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you.

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation.

Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.

I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 months

Text

.⋆｡What I Cannot Give You｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her

Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort

WC: 2.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.

You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.

“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.”

You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head.

Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.

“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.

“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness.

“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.

“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.

“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.

Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.

Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.

“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.

But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.

“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.

“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.

“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.

“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.

“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.

“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.

You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.

“Then what is?” She implored.

“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.

“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface.

“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.

Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring.

“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.

“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.

“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.

Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.

——————

Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.

Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.

Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.

Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.

You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward.

And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.

“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.”

“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside.

In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.

“Steve-“

“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.

He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.

“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.

“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.

You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.

His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.

His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.

“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”

“But Sharon-“

“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”

Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.”

“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.

“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.

“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.

“That’s my good girl.”

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 7 months

Note

hii can I get whiskey w Steve Rogers for oral/face riding?

Adjusting.

warnings - smut. cursing.

nomad steve makes me feral. that's all. I was feeling this one.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

He's adjusting, to this new life.

He's shy. Taking it one day at a time. Reminding himself to breathe when things get overwhelming.

Soon, he finds his feet. Regains his confidence. Starts asking for things, setting boundaries, taking what he wants a little more.

He keeps surprising you. With his knowledge, new slang he uses, his ability to use a phone. He's a fast learner.

He's braver, now.

He's adjusting.

Trying to get used to the fact that women aren't as seemingly fragile as they were. They run the world more openly, now, and Steve loves it.

He loves you.

Tries to show you how much when he's got you between his sheets, kissing every inch of skin he can find. Gentle, tender, careful.

You tell him that you know he loves you, no matter what. He doesn't have to be so tentative. It doesn't change the way you look at him.

He's in a lust fuelled haze when he finds the courage.

"Sit on my face."

You choke on your breath, gasping for air.

"What?"

"You heard me, honey. Sit on my face. Now."

You've never seen him like this. Frayed at the edges, feral almost. His eyes are as dark as the wet spot between your legs.

You quirk a brow at him in challenge, but he doesn't back down. So you grant him his wish. Crawling up his body until you're hovering over his pretty face, deep gaze focused on you.

"Is this what you want?" you whisper.

"More than anything."

He's practically growling, voice lower and rougher than you've ever heard it. You owe a thanks to whatever has got him so riled up.

He tugs you down to his mouth with two strong hands around your thighs, grip hard enough that you know you'll bruise tomorrow. You can't wait.

You tangle your fingers through his golden blonde locks and tug, whining when he groans, from the depths his chest. The two of you are animalistic, finally tapping into the carnal desires that have been there all along.

You're practically riding the gorgeous ridge of his nose, reveling in the way his tongue slips inside and curls. He might not have much experience with this, but he's always been naturally gifted. He's one of those people that's good at everything.

He's groaning, humming, murmuring, enjoying this just as much as you are. Your hands almost splinter the headboard, skin pulled taut across tense knuckles. You're so close you can taste it, honey sweet and saccharine.

"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl. Come on my face, honey. Please."

It's the broken please that gets you, the desperation in his tone and the tightening grip on your hips. You see stars, dizzying and clear, blood rushing to your head. Steve doesn't let up, determined to see how pretty you look when he finally pushes you to your limit.

You collapse against his chest, leaning into his touch like a kitten. Rough fingertips trace patterns across your back, your arms, your hips. He's waiting for you to give him the green light.

You kiss him with force, tongue sliding into his mouth with no room for protest. You bite his lip and grin. America's golden boy. Lying under you with your come smeared across his face.

He leans up to whisper in your ear, rough tone filled with promise and mischief.

"I love you," he murmurs, tongue gliding across your neck. "Let me fuck you like I don't."

You've never been one to deny him. You're not about to start now.

He's adjusting, after all.

#murphy's 3k celebration #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader fluff #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel smut #captain america x reader #captain america smut

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wintersoldiersoul · 6 months

Text

Aftercare

A/N: Can't stop thinking about fluffy aftercare with Bucky so here's something short I just wrote

Warnings: tiny bit of smut, aftercare, tooth rotting fluff

“One more for me, baby girl, come on, you can do it,” Bucky encouraged as he pounded into you relentlessly. He had your legs up by your head, cock plunging in and out of your cunt, sending you barreling into your sixth orgasm of the night. You were absolutely exhausted but someone still not satiated yet. You still needed him.

“Oh fuck!” You yelled out, feeling another orgasm creeping up. “I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum so hard! Fuckk!” Your words were practically just screams as you came, squirting and soaking the sheets below you.

Bucky’s thrusts grew sloppy as his breathing got heavy and he shot his load into you. “Ohh my god,” he repeated as he rode out his high.

When you were both finished, he carefully removed himself from inside of you and lowered your legs slowly. You were breathless, laying limp with your eyes closed, utterly spent after the amount of intense orgasms you had. “You with me, baby girl?” Bucky asked, voice dripping with concern and love.

“Mhm,” you nodded lazily, eyes still closed.

“I’ll be right back. Gonna get a towel to clean you up, okay?” You felt his weight leave the bed and heard the water running in the bathroom. “Gonna be really gentle, okay sweetheart? I just gotta get you all clean.” You shuttered as you felt the towel, still incredibly sensitive. He was so light with his touch, taking his time to make sure that you were all clean. He went back to the bathroom to dispose of the towel and quickly came back to sit beside you on the bed. “Can you drink this for me, baby?” He said, handing you your water bottle from the night table.

You sat up slowly, grabbing the bottle and taking greedy sips to rehydrate yourself. As much as you loved sex with Bucky, you loved aftercare almost more. You were both so emotional, so full of love for each other, even if he had treated you like his own personal toy just minutes prior. Your wellbeing was always his priority, during and after.

“How you feeling, angel?” He asked, returning the water bottle to the nightstand. “Can you give me words?”

“Feel good,” you said, sleepily. “Tired.” You moved your body so your head was buried in his chest. “Jus’ wanna cuddle with you.”

He smiled, loving the feeling of you in his arms. He loved taking care of you and making you feel safe and comfortable. He rubbed his hand up and down your back in the way he knew you loved. As he held you, he began to feel tears leaking onto his chest. “Hey,” he said, cupping your face in his hands. “What’s wrong? Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?” His eyes were wide with concern.

You shook your head. “No, no, I’m okay. I don’t even know why I’m crying really. Just love you a lot.”

He kissed your forehead and wiped your tears. “Hey, that’s okay, baby.” He smiled softly. “Lemme give you all the care you need, ‘kay? Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. I know that was a lot for you.”

You nodded before placing your head in the crook of his neck, reveling in the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “Was I good?” you asked quietly.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect. You always are, angel.” He kissed the top of your head as he held you, letting you use his body for whatever comfort you needed. “Do you wanna take a shower, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I can walk,” you admitted.

“Lemme run a bath, okay? Then we can get nice and cozy and go to sleep.”

Once the bath was full, Bucky picked you up in his strong arms and carried you, placing you down in the warm water before getting in himself. He grabbed your shampoo, running the soap through your hair before taking a bucket and gently washing it out. He repeated the same method with your conditioner, whispering sweet nothings and peppering your face with kisses the whole time. “I love you so much, baby. My perfect angel girl.”

When you were done, he helped you get changed into pajamas and got you settled on the bed. “You need anything else?” he asked.

“Just you,” you mumbled, holding out your hands.

He smiled warmly as he crawled into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you as you both drifted off into a deep sleep.

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moonvis · 3 months

Text

IDIOTS IN LOVE

Steve Rogers x F! Reader

incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony

Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.

Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.

“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”

“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.

“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”

“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-

“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”

You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”

You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.

You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.

You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”

Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.

“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.

You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.

The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.

A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.

“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.

The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.

“I know! Old people are the cutest.”

“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”

You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.

“Y/N? Earth to--”

“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.

She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”

“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.

You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”

Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.

“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”

Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter, would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.

Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”

You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”

Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.

You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.

Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.

You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?

Then, it hits you. Natasha.

Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”

Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.

“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”

You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.

As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.

Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?

“Hey.”

The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”

You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass yourself in front of him again.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.

You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.

“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”

Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.

“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.

“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.

You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”

You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”

You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”

“Y/N-”

“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,

Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”

Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.

You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.

As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.

You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.

You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.

It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?

As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.

“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”

“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”

“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”

It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”

You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.

“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.

“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”

“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”

The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?

“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”

“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”

As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.

It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.

As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”

Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.

Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.

The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”

“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.

“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.

“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.

You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?

“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”

“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”

Steve was blabbering on about you?

“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.

You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.

You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.

"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.

Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."

You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.

"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.

You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."

"No come on!"

As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.

Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.

All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.

Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.

When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”

“In the gym ma’am.”

You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”

“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”

You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”

Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.

You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.

Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.

Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.

“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”

You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”

You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.

“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”

The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.

Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.

You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”

“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.

“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”

Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”

“Cause none of them were you.”

You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”

“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.

“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.

Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”

“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”

Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”

“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”

Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.

Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”

You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”

You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.

It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.

You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.

THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #sebastian stan #chris evans #natasha romanoff #tony stark #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #captain america imagine #captain ameirca #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader

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make-me-imagine · 1 year

Text

Christmas Proposal

12 Days Of Christmas: Day 9

Plot: While preparing the house for a festive dinner, Steve decides to give you a Christmas present early.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Gn!Reader

A/N: I know that most of the characters in this are portrayed as Jewish, or of Jewish heritage in the comics and stuff. But I don't think that means they would turn down a Christmas dinner if invited lol. Sooo, yeah.

Words: ~1.2k

Steve watched you with a fond smile as you bustled around the house, preparing for the evening dinner. You wanted to get as much done as you could before you had to cook.

You and Steve had invited Bucky, Sam, Wanda and Vision over for Pre-Christmas dinner. Which meant the house needed to be cozy, and perfect.

"Oh!" You started as you were halfway though the room, turning around you ran back the way you came.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. When he heard you coming back, he moved to stop you, gently placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Y/n, breath."

You let out a small huff of air but smiled "I'm almost done."

"You said that two hours ago. It will be perfect. You know them, they're just gonna be grateful that you invited them over at all."

"I know I know." You said with a sigh "I just want them to feel at home."

"They always do when they're here, you're already good at that."

You smiled as you stepped forward, leaning into Steve's chest. He smiled as he gently pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You know what will make you feel better?"

"What?" You mumbled into his chest.

He started to gently sway you back and forth as he spoke "Some hot chocolate, and an early present."

You pulled your head away from his chest and looked up at him with piqued interest "An early present?"

He smiled and nodded "There may be one in particular I have in mind that I want you to have now."

"Can I give you one too?"

He shrugged his head a bit "Well, if you insist."

Your smile grew as you pulled away from him and began running into another part of the house. "I'll get the cocoa!" You called back.

He smiled to himself as he took a deep breath. Going to the closet, he dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out the previously hidden box wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. He wondered if the size would give away what was inside.

He had bought the ring weeks before, but wanted to wait until Christmas. Since the others would be here soon, he thought now would be a great time. Plus, he was tired of waiting.

And the way he watched you try so hard to make the house comfortable for the others, putting your love and care into every thought made his heart swell with adoration and love.

Now was the perfect time.

As the two of you finally sat down together, hot cocoa on the table, White Christmas playing on the television, you smiled at him as you held one of his presents in your hand.

"You first!" You said with a smile as you handed it to him. He sighed a breath of relief, wanting to give you yours last.

As he unwrapped his present, a feeling of nostalgia and surprise wash over him as he looked down at an old framed piece of art.

It was a now vintage piece of art, that used to hang in his mothers favorite restaurant. It was often hung at the very table they sat at when he was a child.

"Wh-how?" He stuttered out as he looked up at you.

You had a nervous smile on your face. "I was looking into art about old Brooklyn, since you mentioned how much you missed it. And this auction came up about pieces from the restaurant you had told me about. It closed down about twenty years ago, but the whole place was packed up and put into storage, and the stuff was only recently sold off."

"So it's actually from the restuarant?"

"The very same." You nodded.

He gently ran his hand over it as he smiled, looking up he met your eyes and grinned. Leaning forward, he hooked his finger under your chin and kissed you.

"Thank you Y/n, you have no idea how much this means to me."

You smiled "You're welcome Steve. I'm glad you like it."

"Buck will get a kick out of it too. My mom took us there together a few times"

You smiled brightly as he stared down at it with a happy smile. Relief washed over you as you were glad to give him something from the past he had lost.

After a few moments he set it down on the table. "Well, this just makes me want to give you my present even more."

You smiled as he adjusted his seat, moving closer to you and taking your hand in his.

"I've been holding onto this for weeks, excited and nervous to give it to you."

You suddenly felt a spike of nerves in your stomach as you saw his demeanor change. Was it a gift he was afraid you would hate? Or was it something else much more important.

You watched as Steve reached behind him before pulling out a small box wrapped in paper and twine. Your heart seemed to stop beating for a moment as your breath caught in your throat.

Remaining calm, you told yourself not to react until you were sure. It could be something else. Gently taking it, you untied the twine and tore the paper off, revealing a black box within.

"I know I tell you all the time how much I love you. But I still feel as though I can never say it or show it enough to truly prove it. I truly don't know who I would be if I had not met you. You brought something to my life that gave it more meaning than I have ever had."

You could feel your heartbeat in you throat as you opened the box, revealing a perfect ring inside. Tears slowly started to well in your eyes, as Steve brought his hand to your face, and gently stroked your cheek.

"I thought I lost so much, but you proved to me how much more I could have. I adore you, and I feel so grateful that I get to wake up to you every day. And I hope to continue to do so for the rest of my life. I love you Y/n, and I want you to marry more than you could imagine."

You smiled as a tear ran down our cheek, you shook your head "I can imagine, I can."

He smiled at you as he leaned closer and spoke softly "Will you marry me?"

You nodded fervently as you brought your hands to his face "Yes, of course I will."

You kissed him, as the two of you grinned, unable to hold back your emotions.

Pulling away, Steve took the ring out and slid it onto your finger. It fit perfectly, of course.

You studied it for a moment before you looked back up at him, and threw your arms around his neck. He let out a soft laugh as he held you close to him.

"I love you Steve." You said into his neck.

"I love you too, Y/n." He replied before squeezing you tighter "Merry Christmas."

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @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, @soultrysworld, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @dominos-palast, @maellem, @readingwithatorch, @multifandomfix

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marvelavengerspovs1 · 27 days

Text

Double Trouble

Pairing: Stucky x F!reader

Warnings: MDNI (SMUT 18+), dom!Bucky, soft dom!Steve, sub!reader, dry humping, spitting, masturbation, double penetration, degradation kink/name calling (slut to reader), praise kink, threesome, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something

Length: 1.5k

Summary: Bucky will only allow you to let go if you have been good.

A/N: Thank you so much for the support on my last Stucky post!

MDNI! 18+ ONLY! I cannot control what you consume so you have been warned!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You never imagined your life would turn out this way. You never imagined that you would be an Avenger, that you would have some sick ass powers, or that you would be in a relationship. The best part is that you didn’t have to stick to just one man, you had two very handsome super soldiers to keep your bed warm at night.

You gasp as you feel Steve bite the small area where your neck and shoulder meet. He quickly licks over it and places a small kiss to relieve the pain.

“Steve…” You moan out his name.

Steve silences you with a kiss on your lips. You lean into him, pushing Steve to sit on the edge of the bed. Once he sits down, you straddle his lap. You push your pulsing core onto his hard and clothed cock.

Steve hisses, pushing you down by your hips and lifting his. “There you go Honey, you’re being such a good girl.”

You moan at his words. “Please Stevie, I need more!” You whine.

“Don’t listen to her Steve, she has a whole lot more begging to do.” Bucky chimes in from his spot on the bed.

Bucky lays on his typical side of the bed, the left. He has his left arm propped behind him, his shirt off, a pair of gray sweatpants on, and his right hand in his boxers. His long hair is pulled back into a bun and his beard is long from not shaving in weeks.

You turn your head to look at Bucky. You can see the small movements his hand is making. He’s jerking himself off but he doesn’t want to come just yet.

“Please Bucky, Stevie said I was being a good girl!” You beg.

Bucky tilts his head to the side as Steve continues to kiss your neck. “You haven’t proven anything yet, Doll,” Bucky smirks at you.

You continue to grind down on Steve’s dick, chasing your orgasm. You weren’t close by any means, but any movement would bring it closer.

“Doll, you look pathetic trying to get off on Stevie.” Bucky laughs at you.

You moan at his words and feel Steve get harder. You lift your arms and Steve lifts your shirt off. He continues to lift his hips to meet yours as he rips off your bra and looks at your breasts. Steve licks his lips before putting his mouth onto one of your tits. He lightly grazes your nipple with his teeth before licking it and then gently sucking. You moan and arch your back, pushing your breast further into Steve’s mouth.

“Please Stevie, please make me feel good!” You moan, sounding breathless.

“Be a good girl and I’ll let Stevie make you feel good,” Bucky tells you.

You look at him and see that he’s moving his hand faster, a sign that you were being a good girl. You continue to roll your hips onto Steve, allowing him to be the one in control. Steve switches breasts, making sure to give it the same treatment.

You feel the familiar knot in your stomach. You know you can’t let loose without Bucky’s approval or without Steve feeling equally as good.

“Stevie…. Bucky… I’m about to-!” You can’t let the words out, too focused on moaning.

Steve releases your breast from his mouth and turns to Bucky. “Should we let her?”

“Hmmm…. Do you think she’s been a good enough girl?” Bucky asks as he watches your hips move more erratically, trying to find some relief.

Steve lets out a moan as you rub him in the right spot. “Mmh… She’s been an angel Buck. Maybe after I’m done with her you can try her out.”

You moan at the sensation. The boys talking to each other like you weren’t there made you feel something. As well as his hard cock hitting your cunt in the most delicious way.

“Ok, you can let her come.” Bucky finally agrees, moving his hand at the same speed you’re thrusting your hips.

“Yes! Thank you, Bucky! Thank you!” You moan in excitement as Steve goes back to kissing your neck, this time massaging your tits with his hands.

The room is filled with your impatient moans, Steve’s heavy breathing, and Bucky jerking himself off. You start to feel your orgasm coming, the familiar pull exciting you.

“Stevie, I'm so close! Yes right there! Keep going! Yes!” You moan.

Finally, you snap. You feel your orgasm course through you, your toes curling with pleasure, and the most filthy moan escaping your lips. Steve and Bucky follow behind you, feeling the relief you feel.

“Come here Doll,” Bucky motions for you to come to him.

You obey him, leaving Steve to ride out his orgasm. You crawl to Bucky and let him help you straddle his lap. One thing about these super soldier men, they can go all night.

“Are you going to be a good girl again and let me claim the sweet pussy?” Bucky asks, cupping your cunt.

You push yourself down harder, wanting him to take you. “Yes, Sergeant.”

“Good girl.” Bucky lifts you and walks over to Steve who already has his boxers off. “Stevie, why don’t you help our girl?”

Bucky sets you down and makes you stand between Steve’s legs. Both men help you out of your jeans and underwear before Bucky makes you widen your stance, placing your hands on his chest. Then you feel it. Steve’s long and thick finger is stretching your hole. Slowly but surely he stretches you out, adding one finger after the other until you are prepped for his cock.

“She’s ready Buck,” Steve says from behind you. You turn to Bucky and see that he is naked now.

Bucky helps Steve get his thick cock in you, making sure that the two of you are comfortable. You moan as his throbbing tip is at your entrance, feeling how good Steve is stretching you. Bucky then pushes you back onto Steve before settling above you, thrusting into your pussy without any warning. You let out a loud yelp that is followed by a moan.

Both men slowly pull out until only their tips are inside of you. They thrust back in, their hips flushed against yours. They repeat their movements, changing their speeds. Bucky would go fast while Steve would go deliciously slow, and vice versa. You moan pornographically, their movements being everything you want.

“Look at her Stevie, she’s a slut!”

“Makes me wonder why we fuck her and not each other, we don’t do around acting like a porn star, right Buck?”

“Mhm, that’s right Stevie!” Bucky wraps his left arm around your neck and gives it a light squeeze.

“Yes! Please! Treat me like a slut!” You moan.

Bucky leaves his hand around your throat but doesn’t squeeze. He gently moves your neck to the side before leaning down to kiss Steve. Bucky forces his tongue down Steve’s throat and he hums in approval. You moan at the sight. The super soldiers thrusting into you, treating you like a toy, but being into each other.

Bucky gently squeezes your throat once more. “You like that slut? Do you like us treating you like you’re not even here? You like that we’re fucking you because no one else will ever be allowed to touch you?”

You nod your head quickly, your breaths coming faster. You start to feel your orgasm coming again. Hearing Bucky degrade you and the slapping of your skin against both men brings you closer to the edge.

“We’re going to fill her Stevie. We’re going to make sure that the slut knows she belongs to us and only us.”

They both start to go in sync, almost as if they practiced it. Like they knew you would be a goner.

“Yes, Bucky! Yes Stevie! Yes! Yes! YES!” You start to moan louder and louder. “Please, I'm so close! Let me come! Please!”

Steve starts to kiss your neck again, biting hard. You moan and Bucky silences you, his tongue pushing past your lips. You lean further into Bucky, tasting Steve on his lips. Bucky kisses you like he’s starving and you’re his next meal. Bucky leans back and grabs your chin with his left hand. He tilts your head back and makes your mouth stay open. He then spits into your mouth, ordering Steve to do the same. Both men spit in your mouth multiple times before Bucky forces you to close your jaw.

“Swallow and I’ll let you come.” You gladly drink their spit.

Bucky nods at Steve and her reaches between your bodies until he gets to your clit. He plays with your clit, making sure that you can only feel pleasure. You feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach build up. Your toes start to curl with anticipation. You can tell that both men are close as well, their thrusts turning sloppy.

“I’m going to come! You moan out.

Bucky and Steve thrust three more times before you unravel. You yell their names as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Both men stay in you and thrust until they come. Bucky and Steve come at the same time, Steve holding the back of Bucky’s neck to pull him for a kiss. They kiss until every last drop of their come is in you.

“You are a good girl.” Bucky praises you.

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imagineanythings · 1 year

Text

Tis the Damn Season

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4.8k

The second fic in my Folklore and Evermore Collection

Other fics in the collection: The 1

Her head swarmed with frustration and anger and she finally noticed that she had pulled into the parking lot in front of the methodist church. She laughed to herself as she rested her head on the wheel. Of course she’d come here. Stupid. She moved to put the car in reverse and go somewhere, anywhere else, when taillights in her rearview mirror caught her eye. The air forcibly left her lungs in one swift exhale as she recognized that old, beat up, blue pickup.

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The familiar musty scent of beer and an unfortunate mixture of perfumes and colognes met her nose as she entered the bar. Faces more weathered than her memory had stored them greeted her as she weaved through. The motion of dodging through these people had become muscle memory, though the setting had shifted some years back from crowded high school hallways to this cramped hometown bar. She settled into a seat at the bar and shrugged off her coat, and once she had a gin and tonic in hand she was far more prepared to deal with the sea of semi-familiar faces around her.

It was all cordial hellos, obligatory “so what are you doing these days?”, or “how’s your family?” or “congratulations on your engagement or your promotion or your pregnancy or whatever else someone could be congratulated on ten years out from high school”. Small talk was easy, but grating, people couldn’t help but joke about how cold she must be here after coming from LA, or asking about contracts or jobs that she wasn’t allowed to talk about. Insincerity leaked from between their clenched, grinning teeth as they would ask “remember when we sat next to each other in bio? We sure had some good times. Did you say you were on set with Angelina Jolie last month?” They would say “It’s amazing that your career is taking off like this, it’s a tough industry” or they’d jab an all too sharp elbow into her side with a far too comfortable smile and say “If you ever need some company out there in LA, call me.”

Fake smiles and performed familiarity left her exhausted and frustrated as she worked on her third drink in a brief moment to herself. She took the time to scan the room and survey if anyone worth talking to had showed up. She was just about coming up empty when a crowded table in the corner caught her eye. She might have missed him with the swarm of people he was sitting with, except for his cold blue stare. She could never miss his eyes, even if she wanted to. Steve Rogers would never not be the first person she could pick out of a crowd. They held eye contact for a moment, air tense, background voices dimmed to a dull ringing in their ears as they returned to a long unpracticed art of reading one another.

She said hello with a quirked brow, he remained impassive, so she sipped her drink and narrowed her eyes, the corner of his lip tugged ever so slightly upwards, her shoulders released the slightest bit of tension, his jaw clenched, her eyes softened, he turned his head to speak to someone else. It seemed that neither was satisfied with the interaction, if it could even be called that. Nonverbal conversations used to be their secret, an inside joke in a room full of unsuspecting idiots. Suddenly she wished she couldn’t read him quite so well anymore.

One drink and a few more awkward conversations later, fresh soap and pine and firewood reached her nose and she knew he was about to pass her on his way out. At the peak of the scent a gentle brush against her side informed her that her estimates of his whereabouts were correct and she sat glued to her seat, forcing herself not to look. But nostalgia and curiosity and possibly a dash of hopeless romanticism grabbed her by the chin after a few moments and led her eyes to the muscular frame headed for the door. He paused, hand on the door, and as if he could sense it, looked up and met her eyes. There it was again, and her heart strung with icy blue hurt. He was gone within moments but she had felt an eternity in that eye contact.

One of the comforts of being home was the ability to zone out on drives through her sleepy, small hometown. Her eyes stayed on the road and her body mechanically brought her home as she thought about seeing Steve in the bar. Flashes of a dizzying high school romance intermixed with memories of the aching emptiness that followed. The feelings existed out of sync with one another.

At home, she only enjoyed a mere few minutes of peace before her mother began her favorite line of questioning. “Why did you have to go so far away sweetheart? We miss you.” Her mother began. With a deep breath, she braced herself. “You know why, Mom. You know I wanted to act. I couldn’t have done that here.” The words fell from her lips with no thought, muscle memory had taken over. “I just don’t see why that had to be the only option. You could make a nice life for yourself here. I mean did you really want to get away from us that badly?” “Jesus, Mom. You know that’s not why I left. We’ve been over this.” The argument went in progressively louder circles for who knows how long. After enough nothing, Y/N silently grabbed her coat. She called, “I’m going for a drive.” Before shutting the front door behind her and getting into her car.

Muscle memory is a crazy thing. She hadn’t thought about where she was going, she only knew that she had to get away for a minute. Her head swarmed with frustration and anger and she finally noticed that she had pulled into the parking lot in front of the methodist church. She laughed to herself as she rested her head on the wheel. Of course she’d come here. Stupid. She moved to put the car in reverse and go somewhere, anywhere else, when taillights in her rearview mirror caught her eye. The air forcibly left her lungs in one swift exhale as she recognized that old, beat up, blue pickup.

It seemed like she had no control over anything she did anymore, as she felt herself getting out of her car. Her brain was sounding all the alarms, telling her to stop, to turn around, get back in her car, and continue her personal pity party as far away from here as possible. Maybe even back in LA at this point. But her legs carried her forward nonetheless until finally she stood on the passenger side of the truck, staring through the window.

His head rested on his steering wheel the same way hers had a few moments ago, he hadn’t seen her yet. Despite all of her rational reasoning, she raised a timid hand and gently knocked against the glass. He jolted upright once at the sound and then again when he realized who was standing in front of him. She figured she was in too deep now, no running away, so she reached out and opened the door, climbed into the passenger seat and nearly had to hold back tears as she felt her skin against its familiar leather. With all the composure she could muster, she looked over at his still stunned face. “Wanna go for a drive?” She asked, and wordlessly, he started the car.

Silence filled the space, wrapped them both up in a warm familiarity for the beginning of the drive. She knew the roads he was taking, leading them aimlessly around the town that made them who they were. There’s no telling how long they needed to sit and absorb each others’ presence, they only knew that they would speak when it felt right again. “What brought you to the lot?” He broke the silence, surprising her. That was traditionally her job. She shrugged. “My parents, pissed at me for leaving and going so far away.” He nodded and hummed. “I get that.” The silence hung between them once again. “What about you?” Guilt broke her first this time. “House felt empty, like I was seeing ghosts. Just wanted to clear my head.” His tone had a practiced evenness to it that she recognized from when he tried to hold back his feelings, like the day they broke up. “Feel like I should be apologizing for that.” She observed. He exhaled deeply. “Maybe. Maybe I should be too.” SIlence met them again and they embraced it, comfortably. She continued to sneak glances at him in the quiet, trying to read him as he drove, as he clearly was trying to close himself off to her.

She took another deep breath after a long while and broke the silence again. “So the bar was a bust, huh? I mean Bucky wasn’t even there.” His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle as she looked up in shock that he was even responding with anything other than snark or frustration. “Yeah, even Tony was acting like an ass tonight.” “Where was Nat? Or Sam? Felt like no one worth talking to was around.” “They’re busy with their lives. Although out of everyone, you were the one we all expected to show up the least.” that coldness leached back into Steve’s tone. “You guys were talking about it? Seriously?” Her brows knitted together and she crossed her arms. “I mean, come on. We all just thought you’d be on a movie set. Or with people cooler and richer than this whole town combined.” The coldness was barely there in his voice, he spoke matter-of-factly. “Nah, LA people suck. Trust me, they’ve got nothing on some of the people here. Some of them.” She put emphasis on that last bit and met Steve’s eyes as they stopped at a red light. He looked quickly back to the road as the light turned green and continued along. The silence surrounded them again. She broke it again. “I miss you.” It was barely a whisper. “Yeah.” He breathed deeply. “I miss you too.” Another stop sign, another quick glance. “But I’m sure you already knew that.” “I’m sorry.” She said once again, she didn’t even know why she was saying it anymore. He just shook his head. They rode in silence for a long time again. She wondered when silence became more comfortable with him than speaking. Somewhere after middle school, she guessed. Either way, there was a nostalgia to the quiet that wrapped her up and made her feel warm despite the guilt squeezing her by the lungs.

The truck rolled to a stop right where it had started. He put it in park and stared straight ahead. “Thanks for the ride.” She said, as her fingers grasped the door handle and she began to push the door open, Steve reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Muscle memory kicked in again as he pulled her to him, a hand threading through her hair as he placed his lips on hers. His tug on her arm had some force behind it, but the kiss itself was soft and gentle, more of a question than anything else. She could feel him holding himself back before she gave in and kissed him back like leaning into a multiple years long itch that was finally being scratched. As soon as she showed eagerness he let go completely, one of his hands was tangled in her hair, the other had snaked around her waist to rest on her back, pulling as close as he could over the center console. She took his shirt in one fist and placed a gentle palm on his cheek. She had been in her hometown for a little over a day now but she hadn’t felt really at home until this moment.

He tasted like peppermint and whiskey and she felt like she was drowning in him when he pulled back to look at her. They breathed heavily in time with one another, something that simple having brought them back into sync after all those years. He spoke first between labored breaths. “Meet me at my place?” “I’ll follow you there.”

The morning sunlight streaked through unfamiliar windows and it took Y/N a moment to comprehend where she was. She sat up in bed and surveyed the neat bedroom she found herself in. It was simple, just the bed, an armchair in the corner, and a large, overstuffed bookshelf. The door creaked open to reveal Steve, in just his boxers, holding two steaming mugs.

“Mornin’ sleepyhead” He said with a chuckle as he carefully slid back into bed next to her. He handed her one of the mugs and a large t-shirt of his. She pulled the shirt, soft and well worn, over her head and then took a sip, coffee exactly how she liked it. She looked over to him in surprise to find him watching her anxiously. Her shocked smile easily melted the worry lines above his brow as he let out what sounded like an involuntary laugh. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t have much faith in your high school preferences but I guess some things do never change.” She laughed and let out a playful scoff.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “For everything.” They sat, sipping in silence for another few moments before she spoke again. “I missed you.” “I missed you too, Sugar.” He let his old nickname for her fall from his lips for the first time in ten years and she knew he could see the way it made her breath catch in her throat. They stilled, reading each other as gently as possible, searching for safe waters to steer whatever this was towards. She made the first attempt. “So we didn’t get to talking much last night,” her lips twisted in a wry smile and he laughed and shook his head, tension leaving his shoulders. “How’ve you been? What have you been doing? When did you move out of your parents’ place? Catch me up on all that I’ve missed,” She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she raised eyebrows along with her mug to her lips.

He smiled, softly, no teeth, a mix of fondness and hurt in his eyes, but not the accusatory kind she had seen at the bar. It was a dull, sort of throbbing ache that she was all too familiar with that swam in the expansive blue of his eyes. And he started talking. He moved out of his parents’ house about five years back. As soon as he had the money to do it he was out of there. It had been mostly work for the last ten years. He looked at her with a slight sadness as he sighed and said “not much else to report”. She shook her head. “I’m sure that’s not true Rogers, I’ll just have to get a good few drinks in you to hear whatever stories you’re holding back,” she poked him gently in the rib and he laughed. “Trust me, there really aren’t many stories to tell. Feels like this place got a whole lot less exciting once you left.” It was like someone attached a string to all the air in her lungs and yanked it out through her mouth.

“Why didn’t you? Leave, I mean” She asked carefully. “I don’t know, I always thought about it but I had a job and then I started to climb ranks and build something of my own so it all just kind of made sense here,” He trailed off. She saw his minute intake of breath and knew he had more to say. She gave him space to get it out. “Plus where would I go anyway?” He finally let out, quiet, maybe even a bit fearful, his voice quivering the slightest bit. She wanted to put a hand on his arm, tell him he could have always come to LA, stayed with her, but she knew better than to offer that. Instead she put her coffee down on the nightstand and curled into his side, resting her head in his lap.

“Do you ever want to leave?” “I don’t know.” He placed his mug down as well and ran fingers through her hair. “Sometimes. But I mostly like the life I’ve built. I see why you did though,” “You do?” She peered up at him. “Yeah. I mean, this place can be tough. I still don’t know why you wouldn’t stay with me, why you didn’t even want to try with us, but I can respect why you couldn’t stay here.” She sat up, bringing a hand to his face. He leaned into it, letting her fingers rake over stubble and caress his jaw and cheek bones. “I didn’t want to. I just had to get away and I was young and stupid and I didn’t know if I could truly leave if I still had anything here that I was holding on to. If only I’d known what LA was going to be like. That holding onto a piece of my soul might actually have saved me from a lot of pain down the line.” “Are you gonna leave again?” His eyes wouldn’t leave hers and she couldn’t look away, trapped by his gaze. There was no pressure, there was no ill-will or blame, simply an understanding, a sense of I will not be blindsided by this again.

“I’m here for the weekend, aren’t I?” His air rushed out of him. She could tell he was disappointed but he did a good job concealing most of it. She sat up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, hoping it could convey so much of what she just felt too damn ineloquent to express in words, and then got out of bed and cleared away the coffee mugs. She brought them to the kitchen and rinsed them to give him a second to think, to just be alone. When she came back he looked calm, he had leaned back against his antique wooden headboard, his arms crossed and his brow uncreasing as he seemed to come out of a thought. “You’re here for the weekend?” he asked, gesturing a bit to the space around him, indicating his home. She giggled and nodded. “The whole damn weekend, if that’s ok with you?” She confirmed and he smiled, shoulders and eyebrows relaxing. “Oh that is more than ok with me, I’ll take what I can get, Sugar.” He looked at her with genuine joy it seemed, so much hurt now missing from his gaze. With a wink she turned and started into the bathroom. “Now just what are you getting up to?” He asked and she pulled his shirt over her head with a comfortable smile. “I had an absolutely filthy night last night, feels like I need to wash off.” She tossed the shirt at him, leaving her bare skin exposed, “You coming?” she asked. “Yes, Ma’am” he said, his tone soaked in reverence and eyes full of desire as he made his way after her.

48 hours is nothing in the grand scheme of things, but they stretched it for all it was worth. She made breakfast, he cooked dinner. They rarely left the house except for one extra large grocery run. They drank hot chocolate, they sat by the fireplace and watched movies, they went for a walk around his property, they kissed every chance they got and almost never stopped touching each other in some way. He held her like he knew he was going to have to let go far sooner than he’d like. She couldn’t stop staring at him, trying to memorize this version of him, of them together. They were an older, more mature version of themselves, free of adolescent sting and grudges but never quite escaping a quiet fog of sadness that sometimes tasted like regret if she closed her eyes and focused on it too hard.

The time flew by all too quickly. Suddenly she was packing her small bag, preparing for her flight the next day. She was carefully folding her clothes and trying not to focus too hard on how intently Steve was watching her. She knew him too well at this point, could feel the force of his willpower on her, his presence begging her to stay. But he didn’t say anything, so she didn’t either. She simply zipped up her bag, crawled into bed, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and kissed him, lips meeting his with force and passion. He tangled a hand in her hair and wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into him, and for just a second, it felt like no other words needed to be said.

Hours later, she rested her head on his chest, feeling his even breathing, listening to his steady heartbeat. She stared into the empty darkness of his room, mind in a rush to get nowhere in particular, jumping anxieties like changing trains in an endless commute. Where do we go from here? Do I just go back home and pretend none of this happens? Can I handle the same silence I sat in for ten years? WIll he miss me? She raced through uncertainties at a rapid pace, but always found herself coming back to the same question. Would he ever just ask me to stay? She wasn’t even sure if she knew what her answer would even be if he did, but she wondered nonetheless. She could feel his breathing hitch, his arm around her shift, she knew he was still awake. She wondered what he was thinking about. She stayed silent and hoped that for once he couldn’t read her like she knew he always could.

In the morning they dressed in silence. She gathered her things and he brought her a cup of coffee, offered wordlessly. They sat in his kitchen, sipping in silence, bodies tense for fear of inadvertently giving too much away. He spoke first, softly, almost timid. “When’s your flight?” “Around two, should probably head to my parents’ to say goodbye soon.” He nodded. “We can head over there whenever you’re ready.” “We?” she quirked her brow and bit back a smirk. “How else do ya think you’re gonna get to the airport, dummy?” He said as he placed his mug in the sink. He found himself frozen upon turning around, confronted with a beaming smile centered directly on him. Neither spoke. The air grew thick and hot around them, a question grew into a lump into his throat, pushed its way to the precipice of his tongue before he swallowed it back down and reached over to grab her empty mug. Her shoulders sunk ever so slightly with what he thought might be disappointment but he couldn’t be sure. “Thank you.” She said softly, “for the coffee and the ride” She paused for a moment. “And the weekend.” He smiled and shot her a quick wink. “Anytime, Sugar” It felt like physically holding herself together, trying not to melt in that moment, and she knew he saw the way she tensed up a bit.

Warm air and sunny skies greeted her as she stepped out of LAX, but a chill ran through her body nonetheless, frost emanating from what felt like an empty pit residing in her stomach. Her phone was already buzzing constantly, messages from her agent, her publicist, friends, everyone and anyone trying to get her attention now that her little “vacation” was over. With a sigh, she scrolled through the messages and eventually called her agent, grateful for the chance to throw herself back into work and shake off the icy blue chill that seemed to follow her all the way here.

LA was busy, there was always something to be done, someone to call or meet with, a script to read over, lines to learn, workout classes to take, personal grooming to be attended to. It kept her occupied, allowing for a distraction as her mind would wander. Even as months passed, her focus never fully narrowed, and there was only so much she could do before the scent of soap and pine needles and freshly cut wood began to seep through the edges of her imagination. They didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure what the protocol would be and they hadn’t had the time to talk about it so she just gave him space, wondering if he was still reeling from their rekindling as much as she was.

She went to parties, hung out with friends, but there was a vacancy there, like everyone looked right through her, or saw her as just another rung on their own ladder to success. She could feel the insincerity in their smiles, squeezing her close with bony, designer swaddled limbs and whispering “I missed you baby!” or “It’s so good to see you!” or “Bestie, how have you been!?” and then pulling away with a smug smirk like they knew they had just given the oscar-winning performance. She wanted nothing more than to tell somebody, anybody about Steve, about what she was going through, but she couldn’t trust anyone. Spilling to any of these people would have the tabloids on it in a second.

So she worked. And she gave her own insincere smiles and hellos that didn’t go below the surface. And she kept her head down. She made some decent movies. She put out some work that she was really proud of. She walked the red carpet alone. She was getting offers on a consistent basis now, being able to be more and more selective about what she wanted to work on. It wasn’t about survival anymore, it was about what she wanted. And suddenly she felt like she wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

She stood on the red carpet for her last film of the year, a cheesy christmas romance that she only had a supporting role in, bombarded by photographers and people yelling her name. She flashed her perfectly practiced smile and straightened out her classic, deep red, floor length gown before leaving the mark for someone else. The shuttering of cameras, the screaming fans and paparazzi and stressed out PAs, the flashing lights, the similarly overstimulated and overworked stars all faded behind her as she walked into the darkness of the theater, and for one singular moment, for the first time in almost exactly a year, she felt peaceful. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to her assistant, changed my mind, actually do book me that ticket for tomorrow? You’re the best, and then she sat down to enjoy her cheesy, silly movie.

She pulled into the driveway in a rental car that smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Through the windows she could see her mother fussing about, putting decorations in place, getting the house in order. It looked warm inside. The flight had been long and her head hurt and her body ached but she found herself locked in place, white knuckles on the wheel. She couldn’t pry her fingers away to open the door. Her head was spinning and her chest felt tight until she let muscle memory take over as she shifted the car into reverse and suddenly everything felt clear. She followed the roads on autopilot, knowing exactly where she would end up but feeling not entirely sure until she arrived.

Stepping out of the car was easy this time. Too easy, in fact. She left it running, door open as she followed the magnetic pull to his front door, adorned with a vibrant, homemade pine wreath. Her heart felt like it was clawing its way out of her body through her throat as she reached a shaking hand up and knocked on the door. She held her breath for a few stunned, silent, panicked moments until she heard movement somewhere inside the house. The air came out of her all in a rush as the door opened and there Steve Rogers stood, right in front of her, live and in the flesh, blue eyes wide as they landed on her. “Hi.” seemed to be the only thing he could get out.

“Hi.” She responded breathlessly. They stood, staring at each other for a long moment, and when he finally opened his mouth to speak she cut him off, letting the words just tumble out. “I’m so sorry I left, I’ve been so miserable this whole year and I just missed you so much and I regret everything I never should have left at all.” she paused for a deep breath. “Would you mind if I stay?” She could barely finish her question before he was pulling her in close, threading a hand through her hair and wrapping the other around her waist, and kissing her like there was nothing else he could ever need but this. He pulled back gently and rested his forehead against hers. “Is that a yes?” She asked, breathlessly. “What? And have waited for you all this time for nothing? Course I wouldn’t mind, Sugar.” He whispered before pulling her in for another kiss, slow, lazy this time, for he had no reason to rush, she had no other place to be, and they had nothing but time.

#captain america #the avengers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogersxreader #captain america x reader #captain america/reader #captain americaxreader #steve rogers/you #fluff #mutual pining #idiots in love #reunion #high school exes reunited #no powers au #Taylor Swift inspired #tis the damn season

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super-marvel-dc · 3 months

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Steve: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Bucky, Wade, and Y/N: Ok.

Steve: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Bucky: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Y/N: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Wade: Bold of you to assume I can die.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel

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romanoffshouse · 5 months

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Kidnapper: We have your boyfriend.

Steve: You have Bucky?

Kidnapper: Yeah

Steve: Good luck with that.

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sunvmars · 4 months

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only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist

word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really- but how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

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tuiccim · 4 months

Text

Pickup Game

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3509

Warnings: Flirt, Fluff, Smut, Oral (f rec)

Summary: An after party game of pickup lines leads to a confession and an even more fun night in bed.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

The after party of just Avengers and close friends was in full swing. Drinks and laughter flowed as you enjoyed each other's company.

“Okay, okay. Your best pick up line! Let’s have ‘em!” Clint yells over the most recent spate of laughter. “Tony, whatcha got?”

Tony smirks before opening his arms wide and declaring, “I am Iron Man.” He grins as everyone heckles him, “What can I say? Works every time!”

“Really?” Pepper raises an eyebrow.

“Used to! Used to work,” Tony backpedals. “Rhodey, save me here, buddy!”

“Okay, okay,” Rhodey laughs as he glances at Natasha who is standing by him and tugs at his sleeve, “Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

"Nice," Natasha scoffs.

"Let's hear yours then!" Rhodey huffs.

"Ever had a White Russian?" Natasha asks, holding up her glass.

"No," Rhodey looks at her suspiciously.

"Want to?" She says seductively.

Rhodey chuckles, "Smooth. Okay, Clint, what've you got?"

Clint bats his eyes at Sam, standing next to him and says, "Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes, big boy?"

Sam laughs while rolling his eyes, "So, what you guys are telling me is that you have no game?"

"Give us your best then, Rocket Man!"

"You know, dating is a numbers game. So, can I have yours?" Sam grins.

"Boooring!" Tony heckles. "Steve, what's your favorite?"

"I've never been good with pickup lines. That was more Bucky's territory," Steve tilts his head towards the dark-haired super soldier.

"Thanks," Bucky says sarcastically, "I'm a little out of practice with pickup lines."

"Aw, come on, Buck, give it a shot," you pipe in and then try to hide your embarrassment at having drawn attention to yourself. Even though you hoped he'd test out the line on you. Your attraction to the man was undeniable and you'd harbored a crush since you'd met him. You leaned back against the wall with your hands behind your back and raised your eyebrow in challenge to him.

Bucky's face betrayed a moment of discomfiture before he straightened his shoulders and stepped over to you. He placed a hand on the wall above you, leaning in with a small smirk, "If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

You could hear some chuckling and comments in the background but it faded as you stared up at Bucky. God, he was fine as hell and you were doing your best to control your erratic heartbeat.

"Sorry, doll, that wasn't very good, huh?"

You don't know where the gall came from but, before you realized what you were doing the words slipped out of your mouth. "Don't worry, Buck, I'm not big on being picked up. I prefer to be pinned down." Your eyebrow raised as you said the words and you smirked, bringing your glass to your lips for a sip.

Bucky's jaw drops as the room erupts in laughter and cheers. Tony crows, "She wins!"

Clint laughs heartily as he agrees, "Hands down!"

After a few moments, you reach up and close Bucky's mouth, “And to answer your questions, yes, I would,” you whisper with a wink as you walk away.

A little while later, the party was winding down and you decided it was time to slip out. Your nerves were getting the better of you. Thoughts ran amuck as to what Bucky thought of you and whether the attraction you felt was reciprocated. He’d been in a conversation with some of the guys since the game ended and you hoped to catch a glimpse, some sign of mutual interest but now you were walking away with your tail between your legs. God, what must he think of you and that brazen comment.

Hitting the button for the elevator, you berate yourself for thinking you ever stood a chance. Your head snapped up when a deep voice whispered, “You know, you have a beautiful body.”

Grinning, you turn and press yourself against Bucky, “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Bucky smirks at you. Without warning, he stoops and picks you up as if you weigh nothing.

“Bucky!” You squeal as the elevator doors open.

He carries you in, hitting the button for his floor with his elbow, “Don’t worry, doll. I know you aren’t big on being picked up but I’ll have you pinned down soon enough.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, “It was just a line, Buck.”

His confidence falters for a second, “Oh, uh-”

“Don’t worry, baby. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” you smirk.

“Oh, you’re naughty,” Bucky laughs.

“I prefer ‘playful’.”

“I like playful,” Bucky adjusts you in his arms so that your back is pressed to the elevator wall and your faces are at the same level.

You use the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and look at him expectantly.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You’re surprised by the request after the way he’d handled you. It warmed your heart that he would seek your consent and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Please.”

The kiss is intense. He presses into you as his lips move over yours. His tongue slips out seeking entry and you oblige him immediately. You separate only when the elevator dings your arrival. He lowers your legs gently and takes your hand. Leading you down the hallway, Bucky says awkwardly, “I, uh, was kind of surprised when you, um, said that tonight.”

“What? The pickup line?” You tilt your head as you look at him.

“No, the… thing you whispered afterwards.”

“Really, why?” You thought your feelings for him were fairly obvious.

“I mean, I’m a mess and you’re so put together. I just,” he shrugs, “kinda thought you were out of my league, ya know.”

“No,” you laugh, “no, I don’t know. I have never thought of myself as put together. Thanks for that but I’m kind of a mess, too. I think we all are in our own ways.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Bucky smiles as he opens his door and guides you in.

You suddenly feel awkward as you walk inside the room. The passion displayed in the elevator had mellowed as you walked and talked together into a camaraderie. You were unsure how to get back to it.

“Would you like a drink?” Bucky asks as he comes up behind you, his lips brushing your neck and his hands caress your hips. You jump a little at the unexpected contact.

“I think I had enough earlier,” you breathe, heat pooling between your legs.

“I haven’t had enough, I haven’t had nearly enough. I need another taste,” Bucky says as he turns you around to capture your mouth. You oblige him willingly, snaking your arms around his neck as you arch into him.

Abandoning any reserve you would normally have, you reach for the buttons on his shirt. He reaches for the zipper of your dress but his hands still. You pull back to look at him curiously.

“You’re sure?” He asks.

You smile and pull the tails of his shirt from his pants while saying, “Barnes, if you don’t get me naked and pin me down, I will never forgive you.”

He pulls you against him forcefully, grinning as he pulls down your zipper, “We can’t have that.”

Clothes are discarded quickly as he backs you to the bed. Bucky slides his hands into your panties to grab your ass and you gasp when he picks you up. Laying you on the bed he pulls your panties off. You expect him to follow you down but instead his eyes take a slow path up your body. Propping yourself on your elbows, you resist the urge to cover yourself but tremble as he studies you. He smiles, grabs a discarded t-shirt, and rips the bottom half from it. Your eyebrow raises at the display.

“And what do you plan to do with that, Sgt. Barnes?”

His smirk as he advances has butterflies dancing in your stomach. He grabs your arms, twists the shirt around your wrists, and hauls them above your head as he pins you to the bed.

“Happy now?” Bucky rumbles as he kisses your neck.

“Almost. I’d like these off,” you use your legs to pull at the underwear he still has on, “and an orgasm or two would be nice.”

Holy shit, you don’t know where this confidence had come from. Maybe because Bucky wanted you. Maybe because of whatever drink that was that Natasha had handed you. Whatever it was, you were enjoying the results.

“Only one or two?” Bucky teases as he nibbles along your clavicle. “I bet I can do better.”

“Is that so?” You gasp as his tongue plays over your nipple.

“Mm-hm,” he murmurs before plucking at your other nipple with his lips. He lets go of your hands that are still bound above your head as he slides his tongue down your stomach. Your breathing picks up when he reaches your navel and proceeds to kiss his way down to your mound. Your eyes screw shut to take in every sensation. When he spreads your legs further apart, you feel the contrast of warm skin and cool metal on your thighs. Anticipation builds, making you lick your lips and you can’t help the whimper that slips out when you feel a gentle finger trace your slit.

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers reverently before his tongue follows the same path as his fingers. His metal arm curls around your leg and he rests his hand on your abdomen, effectively holding you in place as he explores your folds. It was almost unbearable, the way his tongue slid around to touch everywhere but where you needed him most.

“Bucky, please,” you whimper desperately.

His chuckle rumbles against your core. His fingers replace his tongue, taking the same lazy path. “Poor baby, am I not giving you what you want?” His finger tip barely grazes your clit and you whine. “Are you feeling needy?” His finger circles your entrance and his tongue gives the softest lick to your clit. Your hips flex, desperate for more friction, making Bucky press his metal hand more firmly against you. “I like seeing you like this.” Another small lick to your clit. “Wet, under me, and so desperate.”

“Bucky, pleeeaase,” you can’t keep the whine out of your voice. You don’t think you’ve ever been quite so turned on and the teasing was making you a writhing mess.

“Say please again and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Please!” the word rushes out of you. His fingers and tongue driving you mad.

His tongue moves slowly, lapping back and forth over your clit while his finger still teases. It’s maddeningly delicious but not enough at the same time. He holds your hips hostage, not allowing you to move. You mewl with each motion of his tongue over you, your body on fire and screaming for just a little more until your mouth opens to plead, “More! Oh, god, I need more!”

Bucky lifts his head, a devilish smirk across his mouth, “Oh, precious, you didn’t say please. We’ll have to start all over again now.” His finger goes back to tracing the slow path over your cunt.

“What?” You gape at him as he plays with you.

“You didn’t say please, doll,” Bucky repeats, allowing his lips to brush over your thigh, far too far from where you wanted his lips.

You felt like crying. You felt like screaming. You felt like ripping off your bindings, flipping him over, and riding his face until you came all over it. Unfortunately, you knew you’d never overpower him and, if you were really honest with yourself, this little game he was playing was hot as fuck. You’d never been treated like this and he had made you a gushing mess.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. Please, please, I need more,” you whimper at him with doe eyes, hoping for a reprieve.

“You need more, precious?” Bucky’s finger grazes lightly over your clit.

“Oh, please!” Your hips try to buck against his hold but he merely chuckles as he holds you in place easily. His finger circles your clit slowly as his tongue takes a meandering path up your thigh.

“Please, baby, please!” You whine as he makes his way back to your apex and are rewarded when his tongue takes the place of his finger. His motions are still slow and deliberate while his finger brushes over your entrance again causing you to clench around nothing. Desperate for more, you start to say the one word you know will earn you some relief, “Plea- OOH!!!-” In the middle of your plea, his finger had entered you and he sucked on your clit suddenly. “Yes, fuck, please, please, please…,” the word became your only mantra as he fucked you with fingers and tongue. Your legs began to shake and then he curled his fingers into that perfect spot, making bright white flash before your eyes and a scream rend from your throat. You came hard, your muscles clenching. Your legs try to close but Bucky’s broad shoulders between them keep you open to him. He laps at you through the aftershocks.

“Fuck, I could stay here for days,” Bucky groaned. His fingers curled slowly as his tongue made gentle licks.

You gasped and moaned, words and thoughts hard to come by in the haze. “Bucky,” you finally manage to whisper his name as if it was the sweetest endearment.

“I know. I know, doll. Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” his mouth nuzzled you as he said the words. Flicks of his tongue came closer together, “I need another one from you, precious. Gotta hear you make those sweet sounds again.”

“Bucky, oh, fuck. Please, it’s so good,” you gasp the words out, nearly overstimulated and yet still desperate for his touch.

“You know how hard I am hearing you say that?” Bucky groans against your clit, vibrations coursing through you. His tongue begins moving faster, making swift circles.

“I… I- fuck. Please,” you stutter, unable to form sentences anymore. Bucky’s fingers curl more firmly into that spongy spot inside and your back tries to arch despite his arm holding you firmly in place. He was moving his tongue as if his sole purpose in life was to make you fly into a million pieces. You were a whimpering mess, unable to form words and so close to the edge again. When he growled against you again, your eyes flew open and you looked down your body at him. His cobalt eyes met yours and the intensity in his gaze was a hit straight to your core. Your muscles began to spasm as you watched him, so focused on your pleasure and aroused by your responses. Your scream is stifled by the overwhelming intensity of the orgasm that rips through you. Your hands flex around the bonds that hold them in place.

As Bucky kisses his way back up your body, you manage to come back to yourself… mostly. You wanted to touch him, to hold him against you, to run your hands over his body. You attempt to untwist your hands from the scrap of t-shirt but the deceptively loose looking knot doesn’t budge.

“Bucky, baby, please can you untie me?” You whisper.

Bucky had paused at your breasts to show them some attention. They were deserving of the most reverent of worship in his mind. His tongue traced your nipple before he spoke, “Why? I’ve got you tied up, pinned down, and perfectly on display for me.”

“I want to touch you, please,” you gasp as he takes your nipple into his mouth to gently suckle.

“Hmm,” he muses as he makes his way to your other breast, giving it the same loving attention. “If you’ll answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you sigh, enjoying each motion of his mouth over you. You feel the rumble of his chuckle at your quick response.

“How long?” He asks.

You slide your leg to brush against his cock, still covered by his boxer briefs before saying cheekily, “I didn’t bring a measuring tape with me but I’d say more than adequate.”

Bucky lets out a small moan at the contact and then chuckles, “Not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, baby?”

“How long did I waste not having you in my bed?” Bucky asks as he brings his face level to yours.

“You mean, how long have I wanted you or are you asking how long I’ve liked you?”

“Both,” Bucky narrows his eyes but gives you a small smile.

“If I’m really honest, I’ve always wanted you. You’re kinda hot, ya know?” You smile and bite your lip.

“And the other?” Bucky asks, flexing his hips into you so that his hard cock nestles between your legs.

You gasp and arch into him, “About five minutes after meeting you.”

“Seriously, when?” Bucky scoffs gently.

“You were so sweet and a little self-conscious and I just adored you,” you nudged his nose with yours, encouraging his lips to find yours. He kissed you, long and lovingly, while he released your hands. You both seemed to settle into each other as your hands explored, finally free. The heat began to return, hips flexing into each other, craving the friction, but before things got too carried away, you cradled Bucky’s face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “How long?” You repeat his question.

“Always,” he whispers passionately before taking your mouth again.

It was all you needed. You reached for the band of his underwear, wanting nothing left to separate you. You managed to get the offending garment off of him and circle his cock with your hand. He takes a sharp intake of breath and then groans. Definitely more than adequate, you think to yourself.

“Doll,” Bucky presses his forehead to yours, “I need to be inside you.”

“Oh, precious, you didn’t say please,” you tease him, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick. Your core aches to be filled but you can’t resist the chance to tease him just a bit as he’d done to you earlier.

Bucky chuckles, “Knew I should have kept you tied up.”

You rub the head of his cock over your clit and whimper loudly in his ear, “I still haven’t heard it.” You pump him in your hand but still won’t let him slip into you despite his attempts to maneuver his hips.

“Fuuuuck, please!” Buchy growls, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

You waste no time lining him up with your entrance. He presses in a few agonizingly slow inches before grabbing your hands and hauling them above your head. He stares into you as he growls out, “I should pin you down,” he sinks in a little more, “and tease you mercilessly.” His hips slide slowly forward until he’s fully seated inside of you. “But I don’t think either of us would survive it right now.” He slides out a couple of inches before snapping his hips forward, taking your breath away. He sets a slow but driving pace, staring into your eyes as he fucks you. His hands slide down to hold your face and he kisses you fiercely, his thrusts coming a little faster as he does. You wrap your arms around his chest, pulling him to you, sliding one down to grab onto his ass. You encourage every movement, the drag of his cock tipping you closer to the precipice.

He buries his face in your neck, whispering praises and encouragement, “Shit, you’re squeezing me so tight, doll.”

“Bucky, fuck, I’m gonna-,” your breath catches as you fall over the edge. Your body sings as you come, trembling and moaning with each wave.

“You’re so fucking pretty, doll. So fucking pretty,” Bucky grits out as you clench around him. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts for him to lose himself inside you. His hips flex with each aftershock that hits him.

Rolling to his side, Bucky pulls you against him. You nuzzle his chest as you both catch your breath. Despite the lethargy settling over both of you, Bucky's hands wander continuously over your skin and you bask in the attention.

“You'll stay, won't you?” Bucky whispers.

“I don't know,” you say sleepily, “Do you hog the covers?”

Bucky chuckles, “I'm pretty good at sharing.”

“Mmm, then I'll stay,” you yawn and a little giggle escapes you.

“What?” Bucky smiles at your mirth-filled eyes.

“That's the first time a cheesy pick up line ever worked on me,” you giggle again.

“I'll have to come up with some others. See if I get lucky again,” Bucky laughs as he kisses the top of your head.

“I'd say your chances are pretty good,” you smirk at him, “But maybe next time, I should be the one to pin you down.”

“Only if you say please, doll.”

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