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ah-beans0 · 14 days

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Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza

@labella420 had the amazing idea to host an event to try to boost engagement, revive our community, and have some fun while we’re at it. If you’re like us, you probably miss “the good ole days” or perhaps you’re feeling disappointed by the lack of engagement, so! Here’s your chance to join in on some shameless hoe revelry and have some fun with your fellow CE hoes 🤗

And! This extravaganza isn’t just for writers, it’s for readers, too!

Keep reading to find out how we can all cum together (lollll) and indulge in some shenanigans while breathing some life back into our beloved CE fandom. You may even get a custom fic written just for you out of it 😘

EXTRAVAGANZA DETAILS

When: April 28 - May 4

How to Participate:

👉🏻 Writers: Write and post a fic (or fics!) about any Chris Evans character using one (or more!) of the prompts below.

👉🏻Readers: Engage with your favorite writers via reblogs or asks.

Your Participation = An Entry Into Our Cum Together 2024 Raffle

Writers, for each fic you post for the extravaganza, you will earn one entry into our raffle. Be sure to use the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry the first time you post your fic(s), as well as for any asks you receive from readers engaging with you for the event, so we can record all participation.

Readers, each time you engage with a writer via a reblog or ask, you will earn one entry into our raffle. For your reblogs, be sure to use the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry so that we can record your participation. For your asks to writers, be sure to mention the event so we know it’s an entry for the challenge. We would also suggest reblogging any writer ask replies to your asks with the entry tag as well.

At the end of the extravaganza, Bella and I will randomly select 2 raffle winners who will get to request a custom CE fic written by one of us 🥳

THE MORE YOU PARTICIPATE AND ENGAGE, THE MORE ENTRIES YOU EARN TO GET YOUR CUSTOM STORY! (ALSO THE HAPPIER YOU’LL MAKE YOUR FELLOW HOES AND THE MORE FUN YOU’LL HAVE!)

Rules for Fic Entries:

500 word minimum, no max! (Please put your story under a cut after 150 words.)

Original works only. If your story is part of a series, it must be able to be read as a standalone piece.

Please tag me @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 when posting so that we can reblog as many fics as possible and record your raffle entries. (You don’t need to follow us to join in!)

Include the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry on the original post of your fic (not on reblogs or reblog replies, please.)

Any genre accepted! Can be fluff, angst, comedy, AU, dark, whatever you want.

Please stick to fictional CE characters only, no RPF.

Reader insert stories are preferred vs OCs. LGBTQ+, BIPOC, & interracial stories are welcome and encouraged!

No toilet stuff, no necrophilia, no snuff, or bestiality. Non-con and dub-con must fall within commonly posted dark fics.

Please include warnings as needed for smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, non-con, dub-con, dark fic, trigger warnings, 18+, etc.

Rules for Reader Engagement Entries:

75-word minimum for your engagement posts/asks - no blank reblogs or one liner “reblogs” allowed. Show your favorite authors some love and appreciation for their hard work providing free content that you enjoy. If you struggle to come up with what to say, check out this post for ideas.

Reader engagement entries must be one of the following 1) a reblog of an author’s work or masterlist, or 2) a reblog of an author’s reply to an event ask you submitted to them.

Include the tag #cum together 2024 raffle entry on any of your reblogs or writer ask reply reblogs.

Please stick to fictional CE character works only.

Odds & Ends:

Each writer can submit a maximum of 3 stories.

There is no limit on reader engagement entries - we want you to participate and boost engagement!

Writers do not need to claim or request a prompt.

Smut writers and characters must be 18+.

Writers can also participate as readers for this challenge, and vice versa. So basically anyone can have writer and reader entries.

We reserve the right to not reblog any post.

STORY PROMPTS

CUM TOGETHER PROMPTS:

Characters A + B cum together at the same time

Meeting your long distance partner in person for the first time

“Tell me your favorite way to cum so I can satisfy you the way you deserve.”

Pining + running into each other after a long time apart + frantic kisses

Pouncing on your partner as soon as they arrive home from a trip away

“My favorite thing in the world is being here with you.”

Showing up at your love’s home in the middle of the night because you need to be with them

Soulmates meeting for the first time

“Admit it, you didn’t really know true happiness until you met me.”

Character A can’t cum until Character B does

MULTI-PROMPT PROMPTS:

Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”

“Show me.” + Frightened + Cabin in the woods

Yellow + Feel like you’re being watched + “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Coercion + Multiple CE babes + “Aw, don’t cry, honey, we promise we’ll be good to you if you’re good to us.”

Proposal + Happy tears + “Nailed it.”

Meetcute + embarrassed + “My hero.”

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

“Do you even know how to be nice? I bet you can’t say one nice thing about me.”

“I swear to God, if you make me come in there, you’re gonna regret it.”

“How about a little wager?”

“If you correctly guess the color of my panties, I’ll let you take them off me.”

“Bet I can make you cum first.”

“You are such a fucking menace.”

KINK PROMPTS:

Breeding

Competency

Oral sex

Innocence

Soft!dom

Primal play

Free use

Somnophilia

Overstimulation

Praise

TROPE & AU PROMPTS:

A/B/O

Only one bed

Mob AU

Two idiots in love

The one that (almost) got away

Biker AU

Friends to lovers

Basement wife (or husband!) AU

CE!babe is a cam!boy

Seeking comfort

CEO AU

Enemies to lovers

Tagging some lovelies who may be interested or want to signal boost the event, no pressure though! ❤️

@yenzys-lucky-charm-library @krirebr @thezombieprostitute @paperweight91 @eulalielatibule @anika-ann @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @jamneuromain @our-marvel-universe @precious1610 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @alicedopey @biteofcherry @buckets-and-trees @avintagekiss24 @before-we-get-started @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @saiyanprincessswanie @sagechanoafterdark @gifsbysimplysonia @golden-ariess @ghotifishreads @giorno-plays-piano @hansensgirl @lilacevans @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @lauratang @needlereads @nowandajenn @rodrikstark @worksby-d @universitypenguin @vonalyn @jtargaryen18 @chase-your-dreams-away @secretswiftymarvelfan @crazyunsexycool @jesevans @emerald-writes @targaryenvampireslayer @foxgloveprincess @nekoannie-chan @americasass81 @sgtnightwolfinthetardis @holacia3 @gracet93 @astheskycries

(Sorry if I forgot anyone, I'm sooo bad at remembering in the moment/tagging lolol.)

P.S. Amazing, stunning, beautiful, panty ruining banner made by the supremely talented @labella420 😍

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ah-beans0 · 20 days

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"came back wrong" you could not come back wrong even if you tried. you've changed, beyond recognition, but while my eyes may not know you, my heart still does. i love you.

#annihilation #I’m biting and clawing and screaming

10K notes · View notes

ah-beans0 · 26 days

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trucker prince charming

pairing: trucker!jake jensen x sex worker!female reader

summary: your favorite trucker visits you at the glory holes of the strip club where you work, but he's saying things he's never said before—things that could get you in serious trouble with your boss.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!); smut; oral sex (m receiving); explicit and referenced glory hole sex; referenced abuse of power, dubcon, rough oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), piv sex and anal sex; begging; choking; masturbation (f); dirty talk; praise kink; dirty thoughts about sweet Jakey

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i absolutely fell in love with trucker!Jake when writing trucker friends because he's just so sweet and cute y'know??? i knew right away i was going to write a proper fic for him and his girl—kitten—and i needed a little break from working on the next part of trucker king so here we are!! i hope y'all love trucker!Jake as much as i do!!

trucker king masterlist

The sounds of fake pleasure and real grunted satisfaction surrounded you, a cacophony you’d grown used to in your time working for Diesel Dolls—the strip club owned by a ruthless man named Ransom Drysdale. It was mostly frequented by truck drivers who needed a break from the freeway, and you’d learned they came in all shapes and sizes.

Especially their cocks.

You’d just gotten done servicing a john with a perfectly serviceable dick, and were reminding yourself for the hundredth time that you needed the extra money you could make in the glory holes in the back of Diesel Dolls. They weren’t legal, but Mr. Drysdale didn’t seem to care about something as trivial as legalities. You were taking a much-needed breather when a new john stepped up to the hole in front of your face.

Shifting on your knees to get more comfortable, you were begrudgingly thankful to Mr. Drysdale for the cushions he put in the narrow plywood compartment that served as your post for the night. You’d been assigned to sucking cock in the glory holes, which you vastly preferred to the other holes since you had more control over how fast the johns you serviced came.

A familiar voice dragged you from your unpleasant memories of working the other types of glory holes at Diesel Dolls. The sound of the friendly voice had a smile instantly curling your lips.

“Was hoping you’d be working tonight, kitten,” came the pleasantly deep voice of your favorite regular, Jake Jensen. “How’re ya doing?”

“Jakey!” you cried happily, grinning and leaning closer to the hole even though you knew he wouldn’t be able to see your smile. “I’m better now that you’re here,” you purred, your heart beating a little faster in your chest as you realized the truth of your words.

It was never a good idea for a girl like you to develop feelings for a john like Jake, no matter how easy he made it. You’d worked at Diesel Dolls long enough to know only trouble lay down that path.

Jake wasn’t some kind of prince charming, and he wouldn’t sweep you off your feet and take you away to a better life. You reminded yourself of those facts as you tried to squash the rabble of butterflies taking flight in your belly just from the sound of his friendly greeting.

But then Jake pitched his voice low, his tone almost shy when he asked, “You remembered me, kitten?” It sounded like he might be blushing.

You hoped Jake was blushing.

You’d never actually seen your favorite trucker’s face, but you were suddenly certain he’d be even cuter when he blushed.

It was part of the reason Jake was your favorite—he was sweet and respectful. He also tipped well, even if he wasn’t one of your most generous tippers.

Actually, you were glad he wasn’t.

Your biggest tippers tended to be the really rough johns, the vicious truckers who got off on making you choke on their cock and made sure to tip you well so you wouldn’t complain.

More often than not, though, they bruise your trachea so badly you’d need to request a different hole assignment from Mr. Drysdale. And Mr. Drysdale always insisted he needed to “test the merchandise” to ensure your other holes were tight enough to satisfy his clientele.

A shiver of disgust raced down your spine and you forced yourself to forget the reminder of your boss shoving his fingers in your holes dry. Instead, you focused on your favorite trucker, who you couldn’t imagine doing anything of the sort.

“Of course I did, Jake,” you murmured, responding to his question. Your cheeks flushed hot as you went on, whispering your confession to the plywood wall in front of you, half hoping he didn’t hear it over the sounds of the other Diesel Dolls girls and their johns. “I missed you.”

A choked sound came from the other side of the wall and you knew Jake had heard what you’d said. Lifting your hand, you placed it against the thin plywood, wishing desperately that you could touch Jake.

You wanted to press your face against the bulge in his pants, to breathe in the warm, clean scent of him while you nuzzled his cock through the material. You wanted to slide your hand up under his shirt and rake your nails down from his chest to his stomach. You wanted to giggle at the way his cock would twitch against your cheek, and listen to his eager groan. You wanted to feel him so badly, it nearly took your breath away.

Thankfully, Jake’s voice brought you back to the present, but when you heard what he was saying, you knew your favorite trucker was going to lead you into a world of trouble. Though you knew you’d go willingly if he was leading the way.

“Been thinking about you, kitten,” Jake rumbled, his voice pitched low, his tone gravelly with need. “I get hard just thinking about your sweet little mouth and your pretty pink tongue.” He groaned and when you shifted, you saw through the hole that he was groping himself through his pants, a noticeably large bulge tenting the fabric. “I think about fucking your perfect cunt when I jerk my cock, coming to the thought of you, pretty girl.”

Desire pumped hot and heavy through your veins and you pressed yourself up against the plywood wall separating you from the trucker, like you thought you could push through it if you wanted to badly enough. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, and your tight nipples stayed pressed roughly up against the wall through your thin top.

“Jake.” His name was a hushed, reverent whisper as it fell from your lips.

Your heart was racing; you knew you were dancing far to close to the line Mr. Drysdale had drawn for every employee of Diesel Dolls and how they should interact with johns. But the heat pulsing between your thighs made you reckless, words tumbling from your mouth before you could stop them.

“Let me suck your cock, please, Jakey,” you begged, a shameless whine in your voice.

It should’ve scared you that Jake Jensen was the only man you’d ever begged—without being ordered to first, anyway—but you were too desperate for his cock to care. He was sweet and he wanted you. Not just a hole to stick his cock in, but you.

“Fuck, you beg so pretty, kitten,” Jake muttered, his praise washing over you like warm sunlight. His fingers fumbled with his belt, his own eagerness plain in the way he scrambled to undo it as fast as possible.

Even though Jake was working his pants open as quick as he could, you found yourself bouncing on your knees in excited impatience.

“Gimme your cock, Jakey, wanna suck you so bad,” you whined, watching through the hole in the wall as Jake nearly snapped the slider off his zipper in his haste to get it down. You muffled a giggle in your hand, the sound turning into a squeal when Jake pulled his cock out and thrust it quickly through your glory hole.

You moaned in appreciation of its perfection at the sight of Jake’s cock. Truly, you didn’t think you’d ever seen a more perfect dick in your whole life—and you’d seen a lot of dicks. But Jake was the exact perfect length and girth, with veins running up to a pretty mushroom tip. He also had just a little bit of a curve so you knew he’d hit that perfect spot inside your pussy.

If he ever fucked you. Which he probably wouldn’t. Definitely shouldn’t.

Wrapping your delicate hand around his stiff length, you were so overcome by excitement over getting to suck him off again that you whispered your deepest, darkest secret to Jake’s perfect cock. It was impulsive, but you didn’t care if Jake heard you.

“I think about you, too,” you murmured, pressing your lips to the velvety soft skin just beneath the tip, breathing in the warm, clean scent of him. You swirled your tongue around his cockhead, licking through the slit and groaning when you tasted his creamy precum. “When I get myself off,” you whispered. “When I’m home alone in my bed, it’s your cock I fantasize about, Jakey.”

“Kitten,” Jake rumbled, his voice a choked warning. You heard the light slap of him pressing his hands to the plywood wall on his side, like he couldn’t bear not to be touching the thing closest to you. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

Heat filled you cheeks as soon as Jake called attention to your confession.

You shouldn’t have told him that you fantasized about his cock, no matter how true it was. It was crossing a line with a man who was supposed to be your john—and only your john.

Mr. Drysdale didn’t take kindly to girls who thought they could use his regulars as a ticket out of the life of a sex worker. He often made examples of those girls, finding clever ways of humiliating and degrading them at Diesel Dolls until they learned their place.

Even if you knew Jake wasn’t your prince charming come to steal you away from Diesel Dolls and Mr. Drysdale’s cruel ways, it didn’t matter. If the other girls breathed a word of what you’d said to Jake to Mr. Drysdale, he’d have you working the ass-only hole for a month. He might even film your humiliation to make an extra buck.

With that grim reminder of what was at stake, you ignored Jake’s question and wrapped your lips around his cock, taking him deep into your throat so fast he choked out a pleasured grunt. His fingers scrabbled against the other side of the wall. You heard another thud that you suspected was his forehead dropping to the plywood.

“Jesus fucking christ, kitten,” Jake groaned, his hips pressing flush to the wall, shoving his cock further into your mouth. Your lips wrapped around the base of him, your tongue pushing out to lap at his balls, wringing another grunt from him. “Your mouth feels like heaven.” His voice was light, almost breathy.

The corners of your mouth curled in a smirk, your body warming at his praise as you took pride in the fact that you’d successfully distracted your trucker from what you’d foolishly confessed. Satisfied he wouldn’t bring it up again, you set to work giving Jake a blowjob he’d never forget.

You pressed the flat of your tongue to the underside of Jake’s cock, licking along his length as you pulled your mouth off him. His perfect dick was covered in a light coating of drool from your throat, looking even prettier to your eyes, and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over every inch of his fat cock.

When he was hard and throbbing, the tip of him leaking precum onto your tongue, your wrapped your lips around the tip of him and sucked lightly, pulling as much of his cream into your mouth and moaning at the musky taste of him. Then you worked Jake’s cock back into the depths of your throat, his thick length stretching your tight hole.

Since you were a pro, you didn’t choke or gag around his dick—but for Jake, you wanted to. So you made yourself. While one of your hands was pressed to the wall for balance, the other wrapped around the front of your throat and you choked yourself, making your throat tighter for Jake.

He cursed something fierce, his hands curling into fists, pounding lightly on the plywood while you choked yourself and his cock.

“Holy fuck,” he rasped, his voice thready and needy and even a little bit desperate. “You’re either an angel sent from heaven to torment me,” he muttered, heaving a huge breath before he went on, “Or a demon determined to suck my soul out through my dick.” There was another thud from his forehead knocking against the thin wooden wall. “Either way, you’re gonna be the end of me if you keep that up, kitten.”

You loved the way Jake babbled when you were sucking his cock, especially when he was getting close, words flowing out of him like his mouth was no longer connected to his brain. Maybe it would’ve annoyed the other girls at Diesel Dolls, but you took it for what it was—a sign you were giving him mind-blowing pleasure. And it made you feel good.

However, you didn’t want to give him too much pleasure and make him come too soon, so you loosened your hand around your throat and pulled off his cock. Your fingers circled his shaft, pumping his cock in a light, teasing grip to ease him back from the edge of his release.

“Having fun, Jakey?” you asked, unable to hold back the thread of a teasing tone in your voice. You went back to pressing kisses to his tip with your lips, sucking on him lightly.

Jake huffed a disbelieving laugh on the other side of the wall and just that sound sent butterflies soaring in your stomach. “Kitten, getting a blowie from you isn’t fun,” he started and you pouted against his cock, your eyebrows furrowing in a frown until he finished his thought. “It’s a transcendental experience.”

A giggle rose up in your throat, spilling from your lips and reverberating against his cock. “You flatter me, Jakey,” you purred, thankful for the wall because it hid your big, happy grin. You didn’t need Jake to know just how much his praise affected you, so you turned your attention back to him. “Ready for more?’

He didn’t hesitate even a second. “From you? Always.”

Jake’s praise and your desire to please your favorite trucker had you redoubling your efforts, bobbing your head on his cock and taking him deep into your throat each time he bottomed out in your mouth.

It was messy, but you liked it that way and Jake seemed to enjoy everything you did to him. The way he grunted and groaned with abandon, his noises drowning out the cacophony of the rest of the glory holes, made you want to give him the best blowjob of his whole life.

Then, when he started getting close again, Jake’s words took a turn you’d never heard before. You were certain whatever line between his brain and his mouth had been severed completely because the things he said were so verboten at Diesel Dolls, you’d never heard another trucker say anything even remotely close.

“Wish I could see you, pretty girl,” Jake rumbled, his breath coming harsher, the edge of a groan in his voice. “Wish I could touch you—wanna pet your pretty cheeks while you’re throating my dick.” His hips rocked against the plywood wall, his belt scraping loudly and nearly drowning out his words. “Wanna see your gorgeous eyes looking up at me, my cock on your face while you’re tonging my balls.”

Your heart and pussy ached with want for exactly what Jake described. The fact that you didn’t know what he looked like meant all your fantasies of your favorite trucker were incomplete and slightly unsatisfying. It was like a knife in your gut, and you desperately wanted to see him, to be with him completely.

You wanted to feel his hands holding your head down on his cock, you wanted to feel his fingers wiping the tears from your cheeks after he fucked your mouth. You wanted to grip his thighs, trail your fingertips down his chest, dig your nails into his skin while you sucked him off. Then, you wanted to kiss his mouth after—you just knew Jake would get off on the taste of his come on your tongue.

The thoughts he’d stirred in your mind had your fingers slipping into the skimpy little shorts you wore when working the glory holes. You weren’t surprised to find your slit warm and wet, your clit pulsing with need. You teased the tip of your finger around your desperate hole, playing with yourself while you sucked Jake’s cock.

Distantly, you knew it should worry you that you were so turned on by Jake and his words that you were fingering yourself at work—it wasn’t something you’d ever done before.

There wasn’t necessarily a rule against it, but none of your johns had ever made you as achy and needy as Jake. You simply couldn’t resist the temptation to touch yourself when Jake’s perfect cock was deep in your throat and his voice was in your ear, spinning fairytales with his words.

“Wanna fuck you missionary, kitten,” Jake went on, keeping his voice low so only you could hear.

Thankfully, the noise of the rest of the glory holes made it easy for you to share a private moment with your favorite trucker. It meant no one else could hear the words he was whispering to you, which you knew was for the best.

“Wanna stare into your pretty face,” he rumbled, his hips bucking against the plywood wall harder, faster, meeting your mouth with his thrusts. “Wanna watch the way your lips part on a moan when I sink my fat trucker cock into your perfect cunt.”

A moan rose up in your throat and vibrated down the length of Jake’s cock. His words were filthy and sweet and you couldn’t stop yourself—you dipped two fingers into your leaking, needy hole.

Your head bobbed on Jake’s cock while you spread your thighs on the cushion beneath you, working your hips to grind your clit against your palm. All the while, you sucked and licked at Jake’s length, showing him exactly how much you enjoyed his words and his cock.

Both of you were losing control, and you knew it was your responsibility to pull things back from the line you’d crossed. You needed to distance yourself from your john to remind him of the roles you occupied and the power dynamic.

But instead, you worked yourself harder, fingering your needy cunt while you gave Jake sloppy, messy head and imagined what it would be like to be with him without a wall in between you.

“One day I’m gonna pump your pretty pussy full of come while I stare into your eyes, kitten,” Jake rasped, an edge of desperation leaking into his tone. “Gonna drain my balls in your sweet little cunt and fuck it deeper and watch you moan for me—fuck,” he bit off his words in a curse, groaning at the way your throat felt when you moaned for him.

Jake’s hips stuttered against the plywood wall and you knew he was about to tip over the edge of his release. You fucked yourself harder, humping your hand shamelessly. Your arousal soaked your fingers and palm so badly, you wondered if he could smell you through the hole in the wall.

But then Jake uttered a promise that made your brain short-circuit, your entire body lighting up like you’d been electrocuted with pleasure.

“One day, kitten, I’m gonna make you mine.”

You came first, your orgasm spurred by Jake’s possessive words. Pleasure rocketed through your body, your cries muffled by his cock still buried deep in your throat. Acting on instinct, you pressed forward, your throat and mouth working his cock while your nose was pressed against the plywood wall. You sucked hard on him, desperate for his come to splash against your tongue.

“Fuck—fuck, kitten, take it,” Jake grunted, his hips jerking and managing to push his cock even deeper down your throat. “Take my come like the good girl you are.” His hardness throbbed against your tongue and you felt the first spurt of his seed shoot down into your belly.

You were floating in a haze of pleasure, your hips rocking idly against your hand, your fingers still buried deep in your pulsing cunt as the aftershocks of your release flowed through you. All the while, you sucked greedily on Jake’s cock, his moans filling your ears.

If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were just two people sharing an intimate moment together, not a sex worker and a john in the back room of Diesel Dolls.

The two of you reveled in that moment together for longer than you normally would, until the overstimulation got to Jake and he shivered violently. His hands scrabbled at the plywood wall as he pulled his cock back with a disappointed groan.

Before he could pull his softening length through the wall entirely, you gave the tip one last kiss and a kitten lick for good measure, watching through the hole as his hands shook. Pride and satisfaction warmed your heart for a moment, but then he was pulling his cock away from you and you were wilting with the knowledge that your time with Jake was over.

Quickly, he stuffed himself back into his jeans while you pouted. You wished he could see the expression of disappointment on your face, certain he’d tell you how pretty you looked pouting at the loss of his cock. Though you knew you shouldn’t, you craved the praise Jake gave you, and the more he offered, the more greedy for it you became.

So maybe it was for the best that he couldn’t see you.

When Jake was all zipped up, he lingered and you tilted your head in confusion, watching through the hole while he seemed to shift his weight from one foot to the other. You couldn’t figure out what he was doing.

Payment was collected on the way out since it was calculated based on time as well as how many and what holes a john used. If they tipped, that was paid for at the same time, so there wasn’t any reason for Jake to linger. At least none that you could think of.

“If you want…” Jake started, stopping mid-sentence like he needed to collect himself, regroup and try again. You waited patiently, curious about what he had to say. “I’m sleeping in my rig tonight,” he said, then described his truck, his words tumbling out so quickly you barely caught them all. “Just thought you should know, y’know, in case you wanna stop by.”

Your mouth rounded in a small, surprised ‘o’ as you processed Jake’s words, their implication that he wanted to meet you—really meet you. Excitement flushed through your body, but it was just as quickly chased away by the reality of your situation. You were one of Mr. Drysdale’s Diesel Dolls, and he truly thought of you and all the others like his property. You knew he wouldn’t take kindly to you seeing Jake outside the confines of the club.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t want to.

Your body was still buzzing with pleasure and the taste of Jake’s come lingered on your tongue. You were seconds away from saying you’d see him when your shift ended, but before you could respond, your favorite trucker was leaving. Like was too nervous to wait for an answer.

Another man stepped up to your hole. He must’ve been waiting for Jake to leave, his cock already out and shoving through the wall in front of your face. Biting back a sigh, you pulled your fingers from your pussy, wiping them off on your shorts and got back to work.

Still, you thought of Jake as you serviced your next john, your mind wandering back to your favorite trucker no matter how much you tried to focus on the men in front of you.

You wanted desperately to throw all caution to the wind and take Jake up on his offer. You wanted to see what he looked like, you wanted to feel him touch you. You wanted to know if the connection you felt every time he visited would extend beyond the plywood walls of the glory holes.

But a small part of you was terrified. What if he was disappointed by seeing you in person? What if he wasn’t as cute as you thought he might be? What if you didn’t have the connection you thought you did? What if he turned out to just have a nice dick and a friendly voice and nothing else to offer?

What was more concerning was what Mr. Drysdale would do if he found out. He wasn’t the type to fire a girl, so your livelihood wasn’t at stake, but he was talented at making girls’ lives miserable in they crossed him. You weren’t sure if your desire to know Jake more intimately was worth risking Mr. Drysdale’s wrath.

But then you remembered what Jake had said, that he would think about you while he jerked himself off when he wasn’t visiting you. You thought about the sweet words that had slipped past Jake’s lips and the fantasies he’d spun about what it would be like to be together. Your whole body clenched tight when you remembered the way he’d said he wanted to claim you and make you his.

You knew you’d regret it if you didn’t at least stop by Jake’s truck. Something about the sweet trucker called to you, and you didn’t have the resolve to resist it, even with the threat of Mr. Drysdale hanging over your head. Besides, even if the owner of Diesel Dolls found out, it wasn’t like you were under any delusion of using Jake as a way to escape your boss.

You knew you weren’t living in some fairtale, and Jake Jensen wasn’t your prince charming. You weren’t going to fall in love with him, and he wasn’t going to whisk you away from Diesel Dolls and the cruel Mr. Drysdale.

It was just one night. You could avoid getting even more attached to your favorite trucker than you already were.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

trucker king masterlist

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ah-beans0 · 30 days

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the endurance of a super-soldier

pairing: CATWS era!Steve Rogers x SHIELD agent!female reader

summary: sometimes being on Captain America's SHIELD team is a test of your endurance

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, very light spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart), unprofessional workplace behavior, semi-public sex, team leader/team member relationship, established relationship

word count: 765

a/n: so i didn't have any firm plans to post for @catws-anniversary but this idea popped into my head today for the march 26 prompt "endurance" and i managed to write a little drabble on my lunch break so here ya go! 😅 hope y'all enjoy!!

“C’mon rookie, don’t give up on me now!”

You shot Steve Rogers—aka Captain America, aka the Star-Spangled Man, aka your ruthless drill sergeant of a team leader—the most withering glare you could muster, but it turned out to be a mistake.

In the split second your focus was distracted, Natasha Romanoff swept your legs out from under you and you fell. You landed with a soft “oof” on the training mats in the Triskelion’s gym where Steve was leading the whole team in sparring training.

To your misfortune, you’d been paired up with Nat instead of Rumlow or Rollins, which you suspected was because you’d wiped the floor with both men the last time you’d sparred with them. Still, you didn’t think it was fair to be paired with Nat since she’d had far more extensive training as a Black Widow than you’d had as a SHIELD agent.

But you weren’t one to complain. Much.

“Not all of us have the endurance of a super-soldier, captain,” you grumbled, slowly getting to your feet and shaking out your trembling muscles. You’d been sparring against Nat all afternoon and even the Black Widow was starting to show signs she was flagging.

As you bounced reluctantly on the balls of your feet, mentally and physically preparing yourself to go again, Steve tapped Nat on the shoulder. She heaved a sigh of relief, walking off the mats to collapse on a workout bench with her water bottle.

You watched with a sense of dread as Captain America himself stepped up to face you. Before you could protest, Steve raised his hands, curling them in a challenging gesture. His damnable blue eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Steve rumbled, his voice low and only for you, using the pet name he knew would make you angry. You hated how condescending it felt, especially in professional settings, and it worked to energize you with fury. “Show me ya got what it takes to be on my team.”

With an impressive battle cry, you launched yourself at Captain America, showing him exactly how much you had what it took for his team.

“C’mon rookie, don’t give up on me now!”

The cracking sound of Steve Rogers’ palm connecting with your bare ass cheek echoed off the tile of the empty locker room.

The rest of your SHIELD team was long gone, but your private session with Captain America had only just begun. Your bodies came together with just as much vigor as when you’d sparred, though you were having much more fun.

Your gaze collided with Steve’s, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth even as you cut a glare at the man beneath you. He was an enhanced super-soldier, barely breathing harder and with plenty of energy to spare, but he’d insisted you get on top of him. And you couldn’t deny your captain.

Your knees were planted on the wooden bench on either side of Captain America’s ass, your hands clinging to his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on his thick cock. Steve wore a wolfish grin and nothing else as he watched you work your bared body up and down on his dick, spanking your ass whenever you slowed down too much.

“Not all of us have the endurance of a super-soldier, captain,” you huffed, your thighs trembling as you rose up, feeling every inch of his hard length as it dragged against your inner walls. When only the tip was left inside your grasping hole, you slammed down on his lap, your pleasured groans bouncing loudly off the walls of the locker room.

As you fucked yourself on Captain America’s cock, riding him as hard as you could with your muscles still aching and exhausted from sparring, Steve grabbed your ass, kneading your soft flesh and pulling a helpless whimper from you. Using his heightened strength, Steve lifted you up his stiff length before dragging you back down, helping you grind your clit against the place where your bodies joined, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your release.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his voice low and only for you, using the pet name he knew made you melt when the two of you were alone. His gaze caught yours, his damnable blue eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. “Show me ya got what it takes to be my good girl.”

With a desperate moan, you worked your body harder and bounced on Captain America’s cock, showing him exactly how much of a good girl you could be for him.

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ah-beans0 · 1 month

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Dr. Bee

Summary: Bucky has quite the reputation but all it takes for him to want to change is an hour with an outspoken little Bee.

Bucky x Nurse!Mom!Reader

Bucky Barnes has many names. James Buchanan Barnes, Buck, The Winter Soldier, Sergeant.

But on compound grounds, and in hushed tones, he’s usually called an asshole.

He’s developed quite the reputation. Being difficult is his natural state of being.

Bucky is constantly late to meetings, doesn’t show up for media days and is always going rogue in missions.

He doesn’t know why he does it, Dr. Raynor says it’s a coping mechanism, but that doesn’t make Bucky want to change one bit. He stays away from people and makes it everyone’s problem when someone decides to talk in his vicinity.

Sam has tried to talk to him but, as per usual whatever the Falcon says, Bucky does the opposite. Sam’s even tried to convince everyone that Bucky’s like an untrained dog, he needs some kind of exposure therapy. Having people stand up to him and flat out call him what he is, that’s what he needs.

Sadly for everyone who works with Bucky Barnes, no one has the balls to do it.

But, everything changed one day.

Everyone scurried away once the quinjet landed at the Avengers compound. They’d gotten word from someone in Logistics that the mission had gone terribly and the agents had barely come out alive.

Bucky stormed into the med bay, his heels digging into the floor with such force you’d think it break, only to find it desolate.

He huffed twice, looking around for anyone who could help with a deep cut on his right arm.

“Hello?!” He yelled out, his temples throbbing and his left eye twitching.

Bucky Barnes waited for no one.

“May I help you?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at the meek voice coming from behind the nurse’s station. His confusion only grew deeper when he didn’t find anyone there.

A few seconds later a tiny hand popped up, wiggling its chubby fingers at him.

“I said,” The little voice drew out the last word, annoyed. “May I help you?”

Bucky leaned forward and peeked behind the large desk to find a little girl.

Standing with her hands on her hips, the little girl with pigtails looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

Her expression turned to one of concern.

“Are you hard of hearing?” The girl spoke slowly and loudly.

Bucky almost had to cover his ears from the shrill and very high tone of the girl.

“I am not hard of hearing.” Bucky finally responded.

“Then why didn’t you respond?” Little miss pigtails crosses her arms over her chest. “I asked you: may I help you?”

His right eye accompanied his left one in twitching.

After he didn’t respond, the little girl scribbled something down on a paper in front of her.

“What are you writing?” Bucky said through gritted teeth, how can a person so small get on his nerves so quickly?

“I can’t tell you.” She said in a singsong tone.

“Why not?”

“You’re not my patient.” She shrugs, rounding the nurse’s bay holding a pink unicorn lunch box, coming face to face with The Winter Soldier. Actually it was more like coming face to knee height. “Can’t talk to people who aren’t my patients. Doctor patient villigage.”

Bucky bit his bottom lip to conceal a smile. “I think you mean doctor patient privilege.”

“How would you know? You’re not my patient.” The little girl swung her lunchbox, skipping all the way to the waiting room.

He was equally shocked and impressed. This little girl had more balls than most of the agents he worked with.

Bucky looked around the med bay for anyone who knew the girl. Mom, dad, cousin, hell he’d even settle for a dog.

With a groan, he followed behind her. Sure, he was a dickhead but he couldn’t let a kid wander around the Avengers med bay all by herself.

She sat down, opening the lunch box and taking the contents out.

Bucky couldn’t help but think it was cute how her feet didn’t reach the floor. As he came closer, her swinging feet hit him in the shins.

He let out an obviously fake and over the top groan, throwing himself on the floor.

The little girl covered her mouth but her giggles bubbled around the room.

“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Bucky asked from his position on the ground. “That really hurt.”

“No it didn’t!” She laughed harder.

“Yes it did!”

“I know nothing can hurt you!” She said as her giggles died down. “I know who you are.”

“You do, huh?” Bucky sat next to her.

“Mhm.” She said proudly, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “But my mommy says I can’t repeat the names she calls you.”

Bucky suddenly felt embarrassed. Dickhead, motherfucker, bastard, asshole had a whole different meaning now that he knew the little girl thought they were synonymous to Bucky.

“Well then,” Bucky cleared his throat. “I should reintroduce myself. My name is James Buchanan Barnes but people usually call me Bucky.”

The little girl placed her tiny hand in his and shook it. “I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name so, you can call me Bee.”

Bucky nodded his head once, he almost didn’t notice the peanut butter she’d smeared on his hand. “Well Bee, does you mommy or daddy work here?”

Bee shrugs her shoulders. “Can’t tell you.”

He takes a deep breath in. “Can you tell me how you got here?”

“Nope.” She takes another bite of her sandwich.

“Can you tell me how long you’ve been here?”

“Nuh uh.”

Bucky runs a hand over his face. “Is this because of the doctor patient privilege?”

“Yep.” Bee smiles up at him and this time Bucky can’t help but smile back. A blooming feeling erupted in his chest.

Bucky looked down at his hand, trying to find his most surface level wound. Something that wouldn’t traumatize the girl who’s no more than seven years old.

“Dr. Bee, I need your help. Do you have anything for this cut?” Bucky points to the small cut on his knuckle. She didn’t have to know how it came to be, or who’s cheekbone had caused it.

“Thertainly Mr. Bucky.” Bee’s missing front teeth were responsible for her lisp. She jumped off of the chair and hurried behind the nurse’s station.

She swiftly wrapped his knuckles in gauze.

“Do you need me to look over your other arm?” Bee asked sincerely.

“I don’t think you can help with this one.” Bucky chuckled, knocking on the vibranium. “Unless you have anti rust spray.”

Bee threw her head back with laughter but the cute sound was cut short by a door slamming open.

His mind went blank the second he saw her. Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off of her, even his jaw went slack. He tried to memorize every single detail of her. Her hair, her eyes, her body, the blue scrubs she wore.

“Bee!” She gasped, taking the little girl in her arms. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I told you to stay in the common room!”

“Don’t worry mommy!” She smiles up at the woman who’s taken Bucky’s mind hostage. “I’ve been with Bucky!”

The woman finally looks over at Bucky and he’s sure the world has stopped.

But reality comes crashing down when her eyes lose some of their light.

“Mr. Barnes.” She gasps, pulling Bee to stand behind her body. “I’m so terribly sorry about her, she wasn’t supposed to be here.”

Bucky gulps down the nervous feeling in his throat. He can’t help but feel like the biggest idiot in this universe.

All he’s done for the past few years is be cold, and rude, and now the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, who’s got the cutest most outspoken daughter in the tri state area, is apologizing.

His brain runs out of words and he just stands there.

Bucky keeps quiet as the woman sutures up the wound on his arm, he’d completely forgotten about it.

“Bee’s your daughter?” He manages to speak up after a few minutes.

The woman nods with a smile, keeping her eyes on his wound but Bucky begs the cosmos she looks up at him, even if it’s just for a second. He wouldn’t care if she messes up, if it means their eyes could meet.

Bucky’s kept himself away from feelings for years. He convinced himself he doesn’t need them. But in a quick thirty minutes, Bee and her amazingly beautiful mother have stirred up more emotions than he’s had in the last two decades.

“She-“ Bucky clears his throat. “She mentioned you’ve got a wide array of names for me.”

Her cheeks burned red. “Bee must be mistaken, she’s got a crazy imagination. Always coming up with the strangest things-“

Bucky bit his bottom lip. “I’m used to it.”

The woman gulped, finally looking up at him.

“I’m really sorry about the names.” She whispers.

“It’s okay, darling.” Bucky’s eyes travel from hers to her lips. “But for next time, ‘Bucky’ is just fine.”

She nods, looking back to his wound.

“And you are-“

“(Y/n).” She says.

Bucky’s sure he’s never heard someone with a name as beautiful as hers.

“You’re all patched up.” (Y/n) takes a step away from Bucky. “I’ll finish your report, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do.”

Bucky stumbles on his feet as he stands up. Embarrassed, he walks straight to the door but stops before leaving the medbay.

“(Y/n)?” He turns on his heel. “Would you please tell Dr. Bee I appreciated her help?”

The light in (Y/n)’s eyes returned as she nodded.

Bucky left the med bay feeling lighter than ever before and he couldn’t help but think a certain little bee had everything to do with it.

Comments and feedback is greatly appreciated!!

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ah-beans0 · 1 month

Note

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Steve + “Are you trying to hide from me?”

Thank you for sending the Hoe Fairy my way, through all the trials and dangers of time zones 😆💖

Grateful for it, I wrote something slightly longer than a drabble? Oops.

I'm creating a new dark-ish universe here, so brace yourselves.

New World Order

soft dark!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: After the snap and the breaking of the Avengers the world has turned into a darker place than it already was. Being under Steve Rogers protection should be your beacon of light, right? So why does it sometimes feel as if you're caught in a sticky web?

warnings: semi dystopian universe; soft dark Steve Rogers; manipulation; sprinkle of gaslighting; economical/situational power imbalance; dub-con; smidge of breeding kink; sex (p in v);

word count: 3k

Main Masterlist

A small creak startled you. Your body tensed and jerked, the jars in your arms almost falling to the floor. You held your breath, tightening your hold on the precious cargo.

The sound came from the other room, the one anyone from the compound could’ve walked into, so it shouldn’t scare you. Not when you made sure to cover any tracks leading to this special, secret unit, which you’ve discovered a few days ago.

Slowly, careful not to make any sound that might alert whoever was roaming out there, you put the jars down on the shelf. One by one. Gently. You kept your breath shallow as you did, keeping your movements to the minimal. Then you stayed still, counting down seconds in your head and listening for any sounds from outside.

As one minute passed into another, then another, until it was seven minutes, then eight, you began to relax slightly.

No further sounds, steps, nor voices came. You assumed they were gone, whoever it’s been.

With a little huff of breath, you turned around. The nose of your boot bumped into the box of supplies you sneaked inside. It made little to no noise, but it was enough for the domino to fall down completely.

Something clanked on the other side of the wall. Then the hidden passage in the wall opened.

Bright daylight filtered through and the broad, dark silhouette filled nearly the entirety of the doorway.

You lifted your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden burst of light, letting out a small squeak as you curled inwardly. It took you a mere second to recognize who caught you and while your heart eased at the realisation, there was still a part of you that feared the outcome.

“I was wondering what kind of mouse has been hiding in the walls,” came his soft, deep voice. “Turns out it’s my own little scrapper.”

Captain Rogers walked in. Despite wearing heavy boots he still managed to move quietly.

The wall closed automatically after him, leaving the two of you in a small room with light fixtures casting pleasant, but artificial glow from the ceiling.

“Are you trying to hide from me?” His lips curled in a lopsided smile, but the way he slightly tilted his head made you aware that he wouldn’t like it, if you said yes.

“Of course not,” you let out a nervous laugh, gripping the edge of the counter behind you.

“Not from you, Steve.” Nervousness still buzzed inside you, spiking as he neared closer and closer.

Steve Rogers, Captain America, could be a scary motherfucker, if he wanted to. Usually, however, it was reserved for anyone trying to harm people he protected. Or if his subordinates broke his rules in any way.

He may not be the golden boy you remembered from the very few, rare press conferences and pap photos from a decade before. Too much has happened, since he was the poster of glorified values the government tried to sell.

First, they stripped him of the crystal areola they put themselves on him. Named him a fugitive and a traitor, for wanting to protect his best friend and fight for justice.

His other colleagues have turned away from him, leading to breaking of the Avengers formation, which was supposed to protect the people.

Then, when the ultimate threat appeared, the remaining politicians blamed Steve and the other heroes for being unable to defeat Thanos. Tony Stark never returned. So many others have dispersed into dust. For a few years - as the world around you spiralled into dystopian nightmare - phantom governments have been using Captain America and other Avengers as the arguments for why so many things were failing.

Living became hard. Well, even harder than it used to be. People turned jaded and distrustful, so very few still tried to show each other support. Unable to count on governmental help, people have started forming their own little groups. Little communities that took care of each other, but were very wary of anyone else.

You met Steve when you shyly walked into one of the support groups he was leading. You’ve seen posters inviting people to the meetings, but for quite a long time you stayed away from them, because Captain America or not, these groups always meant selling your soul in some way.

Steve lured you in with his patience and soft voice, but was firm in pointing out that if you’d like to take some of the provisions back home, or needed aid, you had to do some labour in return.

You weren’t opposed to that, but you were wary. Still, you agreed.

Each task seemed more and more important, or that’s what you told yourself, because with each you’ve somehow gotten to work closer and closer to the Captain himself.

You worked dutifully, which was something Steve didn’t omit to praise you for on a few occasions. Which perhaps was the reason why he assigned you to a team that so often worked closely with him.

As much as it filled your chest with warmth, your gut tightened each time he got a little closer.

And he always got closer.

You always sensed his gaze on you. Felt your heart jumping whenever he grazed his fingers along your arm, in a seemingly innocent, sweet gesture. But there was something about his attention, about Steve himself, that made you feel uneasy.

He was charismatic, but also less lenient.

Caring, but didn’t give second chances.

Patient, but often merciless in his decisions.

He was still Captain America, but bitter and darker. Worn-out and dirty, like his suit, with the trace of a star that used to shine hope to those who saw it. Now that faith trailed with darkness.

When Steve approached you one evening, as your team was scavenging the territory the Captain and his Avengers have liberated from under the influence of bloodthirsty gangs, you felt that quickened pulse and whispers of self-preservation instinct telling you to be wary.

He said that he noticed you watching him. Which rendered you speechless for a moment. If anything, you always caught him looking your way.

Did he really think you were the one checking him out? Was it why your gazes met every time?

You stuttered with your response, not quite knowing how to explain yourself. Steve offered you that disarming, comforting smile. He touched your hand. Slipped his fingers between yours, ever so slowly rubbing the pad of his index finger between two of yours.

Such a small, meaningless gesture, but something about it had your cunt clenching in response, as if he was insinuating he wanted to rub you somewhere else.

Before you managed to explain the situation, Steve turned the tables on you once again. He leaned in and confessed that he missed intimate touch, as well. That it was understandable and he felt honoured you would give him your attention.

Then he simply walked away, joining Natasha to make further decisions regarding the operation; leaving you dizzy with confusion and conflicting emotions.

Was he right? Were you subconsciously seeking out his attention? Was your sense of unease in his proximity provoked by your attraction to him?

Because Steve Rogers was a very handsome man. From the soft strands of hair he had grown a little longer, to the way his broad chest tapered into narrow hips and possibly the sexiest ass you’ve ever seen.

From that moment, the Captain often approached you, smiled at you, and touched you however briefly. The pounding of your heart increased each time, your thoughts still clouded.

When he caressed your cheek one time, while having just returned all dirtied and splattered with blood from a mission abroad, your breath stuttered. He asked you to help him out with patching some bruises and you didn’t find the strength in you to deny a request from a wounded man. Captain America at that.

He took you to his quarters. At Steve’s command, the AI closed the door after you. Your fingers trembled as Steve guided you how to unzip and take off his suit (since his shoulder throbbed so hard, he seemingly couldn’t do it himself).

Steve’s fair skin was indeed marred with bruises and a few cuts, which you cleaned and patched. In response to your breathless “I better leave” after you were done, Steve slid his big hands onto your hips and softly asked you to stay.

Perhaps it’s been too long since you kissed anyone. Or maybe his grip on you tightened enough for the fear of repercussions freezing you in place.

With a tiny whimper, you gave in to his demanding lips and wandering hands. Despite your brain screaming at you to run away, your heart rate accelerated with pleasure, quickly drowning out the fear.

Steve had you sinking down on his thick cock right there, while he still sat in the chair and his suit was barely pushed past his hips. He groaned praises at how good you felt; how hot it was to feel your tight cunt stretching around him; how sexy you sounded struggling to take it all.

Even with some of your brain cells fighting against it, your whole body surrendered to Steve and the pleasure he drew out of you over and over again.

Maybe he was right all along and you were starved for intimate contact.

Maybe you were choosing to let him take you, so he wouldn’t hurt you or your family in any way.

Later, as you laid in Steve’s arms, you debated with yourself how good it felt to be held and protected, and that maybe it was worth following Steve’s subtle commands.

He took you again in the morning. On your side, sliding into your sore pusy from behind. When you hissed that it hurt, Steve slowed down, but didn’t stop. He distracted you by arousing other parts of your body - rolling and pinching your nipples, sliding his fingers between your lips and fucking your moth with them, using his wet digits to rub your clit.

Both of you returned to your duties afterwards, but in the evening Steve simply wrapped an arm around you and greeted you with a kiss on your temple. Then guided you back to his quarters.

He talked to you about everything, asked about your past, as well simply about your day.

But not once did he ask, if you wanted to have sex with him.

As the days passed, the less brave and determined you were to reject him. Especially not after Steve started coming over to your quarters, to meet your parents and play this whole thing, as if you really were a couple.

So if he was this sweet and supportive, why did you still fear displeasing him in any way?

“I mean I’m not hiding at all.” Your speech quickened slightly, as you explained your actions. “I may have hoped no one would find this spot that quickly. I would tell you about it, I was going to. But first I needed to, um, I wanted to-”

“Easy, honey.” Steve cupped your cheek.

He ran his thumb along your lip, cooing at you softly.

He didn’t look angry, nor suspicious. Which lessened your worries.

“So you found one of Tony’s panic rooms.” Steve took a quick look around. “Not many people know about their existence. Not many can find them.”

“It was actually an accident,” you laughed at that, remembering how you stumbled when changing light bulbs in a weird fixture in the main lounge room and instead of breaking the mirror on the wall the pressure of your fall activated sensor in the wall, opening the passage to this room.

You told Steve the story, watching mirth form crinkles around his eyes. He kissed your forehead softly, before pulling away. Not enough to leave much space between your bodies.

“And why are you storing provisions here?” He glanced at the jars and cans you stacked on the few shelves.

“Just in case. We have a storage and everything is rationed generously, but-” your gaze dropped as you mumbled- “somemayhavebeenstolen.”

“What was that?” Steve’s tone chilled and you felt the hair on your nape standing to attention.

With two fingers, he tilted your chin up. Blue eyes bore into yours, a Captain’s command in them snapped you into obedience without an order falling from his lips.

“I think I’ve noticed someone sneaking out some portions. Often.” You admitted. “I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t suffer much loss, in case that person continued to steal.”

“Why haven’t you reported it?” Steve frowned, his hold on your chin turning into an unpleasant pinch.

“Because the person I should report to first, is the one who takes it.” You also tried to convince yourself that maybe Walker simply was giving it away to someone in need.

“You could’ve told me.” Steve pointed out, his frown deepening in displeasure.

“But you always talk about the importance of chain of command,” you blurted out.

Which actually surprised Steve. His eyebrows arched up and then his disapproval was shifting into amused satisfaction once again.

“You’re so dutiful, honey.” Steve’s grin made you gulp nervously.

His gaze slowly trailed down. When it returned to your face there was a possessive glint in the blue irises. A hot jolt stroke down your spine, pooling in your lower belly with heat in preparation for what was to come.

Because even if your lips wanted to part on a pitiful No, you knew Steve would take anyway. And he’d make sure your body was on board with his desires.

“Why don’t you continue your impeccable service for your Captain, huh?” Steve dragged the zipper of your jacket down.

It was butter soft brown leather; once belonging to Steve, but since it was too big on you, he graciously encouraged you to cut and sew it, so it fit you better.

Steve parted the sides of the jacket, exposing your chest. One move was enough to yank down the stretchy top you had underneath. Your breasts spilled out and you clenched your fingers on the edge of the counter, forcing yourself not to cover yourself, even though you felt shy.

Steve cupped your breasts with his hands; squeezed them and kneaded gently. The coarse fabric of his fingerless gloves provided additional sensation. He rolled one nipple under his thumb; pinched the other. His mouth swallowed each little moan of yours.

He drew out a whine out of you as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, at the same time unzipping your jeans. Steve knelt down to take off one of your shoes and pull your leg free from the pant leg. Enough to have you spread for him as wide as he wanted.

“Umm-” you swallowed hard as Steve stretched to his full height.

He was so much bigger than you. So much stronger. Sometimes, when he had you in his arms, it truly made you feel safe. Other times it scared you; made you quickly comply.

Steve picked you up so easily, sitting you on the narrow counter and standing between your legs.

“I don’t have any more pills,” you revealed. “Contraceptives, I mean. Bruce said it will take a few weeks for the production to be finished, after that one ingredient turned out to be spoiled.”

Steve met your eyes. He listened to what you were saying, nodding his head intently as you spoke, but still unzipped his suit and freed his cock.

You couldn’t help it, your gaze flicked down. Seeing it almost daily didn’t diminish the awe of the cock a primal part of your brain declared perfect. Your pussy clenched, growing wetter in preparation for what was inevitable.

Steve’s hand closed around his girth and he gave a few pumps before guiding the angry-red tip into your hole.

He slid inside with a groan. Your own choked cry responding.

When he met slight resistance due to your position, Steve hooked his arms beneath your knees and pulled your legs upwards. Your ass tilted and your upper body angled backwards. It allowed him to sink fully in, until you felt that unpleasant pressure against your cervix and his balls met your buttocks.

Then, as he bottomed out in your unprotected pussy, Steve regarded your words.

“Slight inconvenience. But we’re skilled in adjusting to new situations and challenges.” He rested his forehead against yours; his voice growing more raspy and breathless. “If fate wants us to have a child, then we will rise to that blessing as well.”

He rocked his hips into you, his pelvis grazing your clit. You squeaked, bracing your hands on Steve’s shoulders.

“Fuck, honey.” Steve withdrew a few inches then slowly thrust back in. “Your sweet cunt is so tight and wet for me.”

It was tight, because he hadn’t prepared you thoroughly - sometimes it was a blessing, because there were other times when Steve was so focused on making you soaked that he turned you into an overstimulated mess.

Also because his dick was so fucking thick.

“My perfect pussy. Isn’t it?” Each stroke was a purposeful, unrushed torment, so that you felt those inches penetrating you. Owning you.

“Y-yes, Steve. It’s yours,” you mewled when he poked your cervix again.

“It was made to be filled, honey.” Steve’s pace started increasing. “Its purpose is to take my cock and milk every last drop of my cum, until your womb swells with it.”

There were protesting voices in your head, demanding that you shake your head no and that you tell him you didn’t want to get pregnant. But they never made it past the barrier of voices supplying that you always dreamed of having a family and that Steve would take good care of you.

Even if the objections somehow made it onto your tongue, the moans and cries Steve was eliciting with each thrust and filthy word deformed them into agreement.

“That’s it, honey. Taking your Captain so well. Going to take all my cum and thank me for it.”

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ah-beans0 · 1 month

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So Good | virgin!Steve x reader

summary: Steve accidentally creampies you

warning: accidental cream pie, smut, 18+ to interact

feedback and/or comments are always welcome :)

Steve doesn’t realize what he had been missing until he slides in.

Keep reading

#the things i’d let him do to me #🥰😊#steve rogers

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ah-beans0 · 2 months

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Been messing around with lego studio, Stalker from Subnautica :3

#him

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ah-beans0 · 3 months

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A Daddy’s girl

pairing: Dad!Ari Levinson x Milf!Reader

summary: Dad!Ari and Milf!Reader give their babygirl her well needed bath and reward themselves with a bit of soft kissy sex (soft!dom!ari) (slight somnophilia/cockwarming)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

chris masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧Minors DNI, 18+ Below ୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“youre so perfect momma, so good to our precious” Ari mumbled into Y/n’s ear, hugging her closely from behind, one of his hands groping her breast greedily as her vest now had wet patches from her milk leaking through. “I want you to use me baby, take what you need from me okay? You deserve it” He whispered kissing down her nape, feeling her shiver and nuzzle her ass back onto him.

“awh hey babygirl, ya love bein’ with your momma don’t ya pretty girl” Ari cooed letting his hand run over his baby girl’s head, her cute little face grinning under the water as his wife gently poured water over her. At 2 months old she was the cutest tiny thing, Ari and Y/n were absolutely smitten with the life they had created, “Babe, babe look she’s doin’ that same face you do” Y/n giggled watching while her babygirl squirmed and formed that famous Levinson grump on her face.

Grabbing their camera from the bathroom counter Ari quickly snapped a shot of his best girls in the bathtub, his wife and babygirl so clearly full of love for each other, even though he was sure their babygirl was more likely milk drunk having just been breastfed by her momma, his perfect wife. “You’re so beautiful ya know that?” Leaning over the tub he let his forehead lean against Y/n’s his lips meeting hers briefly before their babygirl starting cooing again clearly not liking the fact she wasn’t the centre of attention.

“Hm it’s okay pretty you’re still momma’s number one angel, daddy’s just a stinky man” Y/n joked cuddling a now towel covered baby into her chest. “Stinky huh? Well if I remember right i’m not the one that’s shit herself twice today” Ari said giving his little girl the stink eye, her tiny fists already reaching out for him with her mouth opening for a little yawn to make its way out. Kissing her husband’s neck sloppily, Y/n got out of the bathtub after her daughter leaving Ari to dry and dress their babygirl.

“Youre so pretty ya know that? Yes you do” Setting her onto the changing table Ari quickly put on her diaper, “I know pretty its so cold out here isn’t it? Dada’s nearly done baby” He reassured her, watching as she reacted to the cold lotion on her skin, clearly wanting some warmth from her daddy. Choosing a soft blue onesies accompanied by her sleep snuggie, he got her all wrapped up and in his arm within minutes, her sweet soft baby scent filling his nostrils as he cupped her head against his broad shoulder.

Mini Levinson lifted her head up slightly giving her daddy the biggest set of puppy eyes before her head become too heavy and she had to set it back down; effectively pulling at his heartstrings once again. “You got those eyes from your momma, both of you got daddy under your spell, you’re daddy’s perfect lil angel, all mommy’s and mine’s” He whispered nuzzling his nose against hers, softly padding into their bedroom he spotted his wife changed and only wearing one of his oversized tanks.

“There’s my girl” Y/n cooed brushing out her hair, instantly putting the hairbrush down to rush over and pepper her mini me in kisses, the tiny tot soon finding comfort in the binky Y/n put in her mouth. The tiny suckling sounds filling the room as her eyes slowly shut, her fists grabbing tightly onto her daddy’s shirt.

“She loves her dada” Y/n whispered tucking her in tighter into her snuggie, “Hell yeah she does, she’s my babygirl” Ari whispered, “Wait for me in bed momma, i’ll put our little precious down for the night alright? You’ve done enough for us today” Without another word Ari found himself in the room next door, a pastel purple room filled with all the toys, books and necessities for their growing girl. Her bassinet sat right in the corner with no pillows or blankets, for safety reasons, but her cute little night light sat down by the floor giving her some comfort.

“See ya in the mornin’ sweetpea, daddy’s gonna miss ya tonight” Gently setting the half asleep Levinson into her bassinet, he patted her bottom and back for a few minutes to lull her into a deep sleep, until he finally found it okay to step out. Turning on the white noise machine he tiptoed back to their bedroom, breathing out a sigh of relief when he saw his wife just cuddled up waiting for him on his side of the bed.

“Hey hotstuff don’t you look delicious” Ari chuckled crawling over to her, plopping himself right on top of her, his weight pinning her down in a comforting way. “You’re so funny, daddy” Y/n teased kissing his pink plump lips, letting her tongue mingle with his for a short wet kiss before he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck; his arms wrapping around her soft belly bringing her close against his chest. “momma ya know what that name does ta me, makes me wanna make you big n’ full of me again” He growled slowly grinding his hardening cock against her bare ass..

“I-i’m tired Ari baby, our baby boo had me running in circles today” She whined feeling her body start to calm, although a part of her felt the wetness start to pool around her thighs. “I know she did, our little girl tired herself out, was sleepin’ by the time I got her into the crib” He chuckled just softly humping their bodies together, her quiet whines and whimpers causing him to smile and kiss her out of pride.

“Need you inside honey, wanna feel you closer” Pulling Ari’s hand up inside her vest, she let it rest on her wet milky breasts, before using her hands to pull out his pre-cum leaking cock from inside his sweatpants. “feel the heat radiating from your pussy? all the love she has to give daddy” Both of them let out strained gasps once he slid in easily, knowing they hadn’t felt this close in weeks since their babygirl had most of their devoted attention. “I love you so much beautiful”

“I-I love you too Ari- fuck” Crying out her legs started to shake once Ari’s hand had snuck around and started to toy with her precious little button, her swollen clit begging to be played with as it stood proud out of her thick lips. “Don’t touch there d-“ Ari’s fingers slowly and carefully traced over the stretch marks which now littered her stomach and thighs, something he knew had thrown her off.

“They mean a lot to me so let me love them as if they're mine and not yours." He whispered back, feeling her pussy clench around his cock every few seconds, signifying that she was nearing her finish. To stimulate her even further his thick fingers found her wet hard nipples, tugging at them to squirt more milk out onto the vest which now clung to her like a swimsuit; no doubt their bedsheets were now soaked.

“M’gonna cum babe, so bad” Y/n whimpered reaching back to cling onto the hair at the back of Ari’s neck, her voice muffled as Ari stuck his milk soaked fingers into her mouth before putting it into his, “Milk tastes so good momma” Their bodies rocked and humped without abandon, the sound of skin slapping filled the room, the cool air conditioning preventing them from becoming stuffy. It only took a few more seconds before the band in her stomach snapped and she creamed all over his cock, him in turn filling her to the brim, a cream mixture collecting at the base of his cock.

“You want me to pull out baby? or plug you up with my cock and keep you full”

“Stay, I want you to stay in me daddy” She shuddered trying to shuffle back, trying to stuff more of him inside her, keeping her warm and stuffed just like she wanted. Eventually the both of them fell asleep, with him slowly fucking her throughout the night, even finding himself being fucked awake when she rode him at the first sign of daylight just before their parental duties came into full swing. God how he loved his woman.

———-

psa: sorry updating took so long🫶 Hope you all enjoy some dad!ari

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

taglist tags: @pandaxnienke @patzammit @starsignbaby8809 @its-murphy-time @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @inlovewithfictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @uwiuwi @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @cevansgurl @meetmeatyourworst @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @aerangi @roofwitty779 @ravenhood2792 @alina02 @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @angelmather1 @bval-1 @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @daddymack01 @acornacre @thebaileybugle @seungcheol17daddy

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ah-beans0 · 4 months

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movie night

pairing: captain america!steve x reader

summary: Steve shows up injured to your weekly movie night so of course you have to help him

warnings: reader is portrayed as shorter than steve, language, mutual pining--almost annoying how much they pine

word count: 1.3k

Waiting for Steve is the worst. You hated not knowing whether he would come back to you.

It’s your weekly movie night, a ritual you guys started up in your freshman year of college after you realized he hadn’t seen a lot of movies.

You two are eating lunch together when Steve mentions that he’s never seen Toy Story, and never actually understands your references to them. He only laughs to make it seem like he does. You gasp in horror before asking, “Where have you been??"

An answer you later found out to be “frozen for 70 years.”

Somehow—after you’d begged him—, he agreed to let you show him the “best movies known to man,” promising him that it was not at all biased.

So now you’re here, waiting for him in his apartment. But you haven’t heard from him in an hour. Which you know isn’t that long, but in his line of work, it could mean anything.

You know he could be MIA for weeks at a time and safe, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

You told him it was okay and that you could just reschedule. But he insisted, promising to be there and telling you to wait at his apartment. Finally, you hear a jingle of keys at the door and almost trip over a kitchen stool as you speed over to open it, a little too eager to see a friend.

When you open the door, there he is—a little scratched up and dirty—but somehow still managing to look as beautiful as always. Just the sight of him produces the biggest smile on your face, but your bright smile dims when you notice a deep scar on his right cheek.

“Oh my God! What happened?” You shout before bringing your hand up to feel his cut.

He looks a little surprised having been interrupted in trying to open the door before answering, “It’s not a big deal.” He smiles softly in an attempt to stop your worry, which it almost does, “You should see the other guy.”

You chuckle a little at that but continue to hold his face, softly brushing your thumb over his cut, your eyebrows furrowed in concern. Not at all missing the fact that he’s holding in his breath in an attempt to hide his pain.

But then you're hit with the realization that you’ve been touching him for too long. "Sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed, quickly putting your hand down.

“Don’t be,” he says, picking your hand up and placing it back on his face. “You can touch me all you want," he adds, staring straight at you.

You raise your eyebrows at him, then quickly change the subject. "Umm-ok, let’s get you cleaned up,” you say as you turn and walk towards his bathroom, missing the small smirk you produce on his face before he closes the door.

For whatever reason, your face warms when you hear Steve's footsteps following behind you. Maybe because there was a time when he refused any help, but now he accepts it without issue, and you’re glad to be there for him.

When you get to the bathroom, you pull out his first aid kit and tell him to stay still as you try to reach an alcoholic swab up to his face. Despite your many efforts, you can’t do it without leaning your head so uncomfortably far back or standing on your tippy toes due to the giant that is Steve Rogers.

He softly chuckles before grabbing your hips, picking you up, and placing you on the counter. “There. Better?” he asks, looking straight into your eyes. His strength never fails to amaze you.

At that, you inhale sharply, only to stop breathing as you notice your legs are practically wrapped around his waist and he's standing very close in between your legs— in order for you to clean his wound of course. "Yeah, yeah..much,” you try to say as coolly as possible, not planning on letting him know how nervous you’ve become all of a sudden.

It doesn't go over your head that Steve could have easily just sat on his couch to fix your problem, but you have to admit that you do like this method just a little bit better.

And his hands are still on your hips. And you try to think of anything else, but how can you when Steve Rogers is touching your hips?!

So you try your best to turn your focus completely towards his cut in hopes of forgetting your situation right now. When you wipe it with the swab, he hisses and squeezes your hips in response to the pain, and you can’t help but softly gasp.

Causing him to ask concernedly, “Are you okay?” with a grimace on his face, no doubt in pain of his own.

“Am I okay?” you ask in disbelief, a little over exaggeratedly in hopes of distracting from your very confusing feelings right now. “Steve, you got a big ass scar on your face, and you’re worried about me?” you ask incredulously.

“Of course,” he says seriously, “I’ll always worry about you."

A silence washes over you two as you stare at each other. Feeling things for him that you hadn't before, or maybe you just hadn't realized till now. Seeing him in a new, more intimate light.

Crash!

The loud sound of the cleaning alcohol bottle falling over interrupts you.

“Shit.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding, and you guys finally look away when Steve goes to pick up the bottle.

You both chuckle lightly before he gets back up. Though he seems to have miscalculated how close you were before because now you’re really close. And you’re not chuckling anymore.

Your breath hitches across from his very close face, and you two don’t say anything for a bit before Steve notices how tense you’ve become.

“Sorry,” he whispers as he backs up a little, looking down in shame. Misinterpreting your tenseness for discomfort and not the things you’re too scared to admit.

“No. Don’t be,” you reply with a new, unknown sense of confidence as you pull his arms closer to you. “You can stand close to me all you want,” repeating the words he said to you earlier.

He chuckles at your familiar statement, looking up at you shyly, as he tentatively takes a step closer and lets you return his hands to your hips.

Butterflies form in your stomach at this, but you choose to ignore them. Instead you place the biggest bandage you can find on Steve’s wound, trying to convince yourself that those flutters are unrelated to the man standing before you.

“There you go." You whisper with a smile as you lightly tap Steve's cheek. “All better.”

“Thank you, doc,” Steve breathes out, seemingly relieved with the sweetest smile on his face.

“Anytime.” You smile brighter back, and your nose scrunches in return.

And for whatever reason, he lightly squeezes your hips at that. It was almost like he was telling you he liked that. But being the most afraid and oblivious people you are, you guys don't address it and instead decide to go on with your movie night like nothing happened.

You hop off the counter with Steve's arms still wrapped around you, hovering for a bit as he makes sure you are stable before letting go. You quickly glanced up at his face,, a question in your eyes as he doesn’t normally touch you this much, only to find that he was already looking at you.

Panicking, you quickly avert your eyes, walk out of the bathroom, and head to the kitchen to start heating up some popcorn.

The rest of the night goes on like this: sneaking glances at each other—that you thought the other didn't notice—without actually saying what was on each other's minds.

Maybe one day you guys won't be as clueless or scared about your feelings for each other, but for now, you’ll just sit on the couch. Pretending to be engaged in some movie while actually being more interested with the person seated next to you.

#ugh my heart #sweet baby boy

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ah-beans0 · 4 months

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#Buddy!!!

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ah-beans0 · 5 months

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ah-beans0 · 5 months

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airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there.

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too.

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old.

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight.

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay.

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.”

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words.

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car.

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead.

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again.

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward.

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills.

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs.

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next.

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often.

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you.

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut.

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead.

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come.

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question.

Or was it?

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests.

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again.

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music.

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy.

“Sandy?”

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?”

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.”

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip.

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve.

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric.

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything.

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut.

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on.

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears.

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother.

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief.

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone.

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head.

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it.

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe.

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

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