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#captain America oneshot
writing-for-marvel · 9 months
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At Your Service (2)
Bodyguard!Steve Rogers x Diplomats Daughter!Fem!Reader
< < PART 1
Summary: True to his word, Steve makes up for leaving you high and dry the night before.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, semi public sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, panties as a gag, dynamic where Steve is meant to be protecting reader and they catch feelings
Word count: 2.8k
A/N: as the winner of this poll, here is part 2 of my beloved bodyguard!Steve! A big thank you to both @flordeamatista who helped me come up with plot ideas for this second part and to @seitmai who provided the inspiration for me to continue with these two 🩵 banners by @vase-of-lilies
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“You need to stop looking at me like that.”
You actually quite enjoy the desire filled gaze Steve hasn’t been able to break away from you all morning, but the introductory speech for your father you’re giving at tonight’s gala is getting the better of your nerves and any conversation with Steve always seems to lift the weight of the world off your chest, even if it’s only for a fleeting moment you get alone together.
Plus, you’ve been looking for an indirect, yet natural way to bring up the relations performed in his hotel room late last night since you were reunited with your bodyguard this morning.
“Like what?” He smiles at you cheekily in the mirror you’re getting ready in front of and your stomach somersaults in response - he knows exactly how he’s staring at you, but he’s baiting you to say it aloud.
“Like you’ve seen me swallow your cum.”
There’s more affection suspended in his baby blues than simply the carnal lust of having watched you perform the explicit act, but you’re not sure you’re ready to admit the implication of that to express the notion out loud.
Steve merely chuckles in his signature hearty way, that’s dangerously contagious and which makes you fight the corners of your mouth from upturning, not wanting to divulge the effect he has on you.
With those long legs of his, Steve takes a couple of slow, meaningful strides and he’s by your side, right where he belongs, eyes still boring into yours, but with him this close you can now see what you can only describe as a soft familiarity in them which you’ve never noticed before.
“But it was such a beautiful sight, how could I possibly think of anything else when I look at you?” He asks, maintaining eye contact through the mirror with a defiant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that makes you want to kiss him.
You want to tell him that attraction is not one sided, that if he hadn't been tasked with your security and wasn't being paid by your father to keep watch over you every minute of the day, you would have made a move on him much sooner. But a nagging disquiet prickles in your stomach and the words die at the back of your throat.
What if sexual attraction is all he feels? What if you’re misinterpreting these soft glances and his he doesn’t reciprocate the desperate yearning carving a hole in your chest you’ve spent the past month trying to convince yourself isn’t the feeling of falling in love with him?
The thought cracks the barricade you’re attempting to build around your heart, crumbling like an old stone castle wall.
To distract yourself from the uneasy pause in conversation, and the intense stare of those ocean blue eyes you have become accustomed to following your every move, but now feel are appraising your reaction, you break eye contact to locate your mothers locket on the vanity in front of you.
You fiddle with the latch under his gaze, unable to steady your hands sufficiently to exert your fine motor skills, which Steve seems to take notice of as he slowly extracts the delicate chain from your hands and fastens the clasp around your neck. His fingers brush the sensitive skin of the nape of your neck causing the small hairs to stand on end and a shiver to run down your spine. You watch in the mirror as he leans down and places a gentle kiss to where your neck curves into your shoulder, a buoyant, burning desire floats in your chest at the velvety feeling of his soft lips.
“Thank you.” You whisper hoarsely, mentally condemning yourself, you swear ‘thank you’ are the only two words you can say to the man who ensures your protection and unknowingly owns your heart.
Thank you for opening the door for me.
Thank you for protecting me with your life.
Thank you for fucking my throat last night.
You both turn to look at each other in the reflection of the mirror and a smile blooms on his face as soon as your eyes meet each others again.
“You’re welcome.” Steve imitates the low volume of your voice. The thought of his full, plump lips pressed on yours, being held by the two arms that have kept you safe for the past few months, as you were for a brief moment last night, distracts you from the sound of someone opening the door to the dressing room without notice.
“Ma’am, they’re ready for you.” One of the event organisers pokes her head in to hurry you along. Within a blink of an eye Steve has returned to his position by the far wall, standing tall, stoic and poised. The heat drawing up your back at his kiss is the only indication he had moments ago been standing so close.
Less than five minutes later you’re walking beside your father into a grand hall, a large crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of a 40 foot ceiling is complemented by stark white walls embellished with gold trim and framed paintings of major historical moments.
An ambassador from a small European country greets you before you have any further chance to look around. As typical, you’re treated like the naive, young daughter who has grown up so much since they’ve seen you last, even though you’re well into your twenties and hold multiple degrees in political science, economics and global studies.
A pawn in your fathers game.
Look pretty. Smile sweetly. And don’t open your mouth to debate politics which contradict policies he’s looking to implement.
You’re as useful as a decoration.
Steve’s job is to live a couple of steps behind you, but it’s too far. You want him close enough that you can feel body heat radiating from him. You want him next to you so you can reach for his hand. Close enough for him to kiss your neck again like he did in the dressing room.
He’s the one person who never fails to make you feel seen, as if you’re just as important, if not more so, than all the other diplomats and embassy officials in the room. But you suppose that’s just him doing his job, and you shouldn’t misconstrue his lust filled gaze and him being paid to keep you safe with valuing you more than for what you did for him in his bedroom last night.
You sense Steve’s broad presence behind you as you make your way onto the stage, hands uncontrollably shaking and chest tightening as you take in the crowded room of people whose attention is now solely focussed on you.
With a cough clearing the lump forming in your throat, and a quick glance to Steve who’s wearing an encouraging smile, you plaster on your best well rehearsed, feigned grin and begin your speech by telling the tale about how when you were five years old, your father would serenade you to sleep every night, no matter how busy he was or what international incident he was dealing with that day.
Your task is to make him appear as the doting father and formidable diplomat, even if it isn’t the truth. By now, you’ve practised this story enough to recite it word for word.
Repeat a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.
Steve offers you his calloused hand as you descend the steps off the stage, as you breathe a sigh of relief your involvement in the evening is over. Goosebumps race up your bare arm at his touch, a reaction Steve seems to take notice of, causing a small grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.
Your stomach flips at being the reason for that smile, even if only in an accidental way.
The buffet table is your usual choice of post at events such as this, especially at the end of the evening when the decadent desserts are served. Your mother did used to say you had a sweet tooth.
You also always sneak a few servings to Steve too, even though he’s not meant to consume any of the food set out for the guests. Having smuggled enough sweets to him during his service, you know his favourites are the rich chocolate brownies and sour lemon meringues.
However, as all eyes in the room turn to your father as he takes over as speaker, rolling off an opening joke you’ve heard too many times to even consider feigning a laugh to, you instead make your way into the adjoining, wide hallway and bracing yourself against a wall.
No matter how many times you stand in front of an audience of that size, it never fails to make you want to throw up the entire contents of your stomach.
“You did a really great job.” Steve comments as he leans against the same wall you’re resting on. His typically stoic, brooding features soften when he gazes at you, the compliment exchanging the nauseated twisting of your stomach with nervous butterflies. “I couldn’t make a speech in front of that many people.”
The distance between you is agonising, he’s close enough that you can see the patterns in his blue irises, but not close enough to touch. Your fingers itch to feel any contact with him as you had the brief pleasure of as you walked off stage, but you refrain from doing so in public for fear of getting caught.
“Thank you.” Is all your brain can come up with to say when your stomach is fluttering at how soft his gaze is, how he seems to genuinely mean the accolade unlike when your father commends you a job well done.
You’ll have to resign yourself to those being the only two words you’ll ever be able to utter in his presence.
Steve’s eyes dart to the bathroom sign across the hallway, and with a smirk on his face, grabs your hand unexpectedly and pulls you towards it. You don’t even have a moment to savour the feel of his large hand engulfing yours, and how your fingers slot perfectly between his for once you’re inside the bathroom his hands move to cup your face and his lips crash onto yours.
Your mind is dizzy as his tongue sweeps into your mouth, rough hands pushing your dress up to find the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the vanity beside the sink, your back pressed against the firm, smooth mirror.
“You’re so cute when you get all shy on me, even though you were gagging on my cock yesterday.” He mumbles as his lips trail down the column of your throat. “Want to finish what we started last night?” You respond with a shy smile and an enthusiastic nod.
Steve pushes the ends of your dress higher to reveal your black, lacy panties and smirks mischievously as he drops to his knees. The sight alone has you dripping.
He presses slow kisses along the inside of your thigh, starting at your knee and progressing higher each time - repayment for the similar, teasing action you subjected him to the night prior.
A whine falls from your lips as he places his next kiss on your covered pussy, humming at the feel of the soaking wet patch that’s formed from just a few kisses. Pulling your panties to the side, he repeats the action, a gasp leaving your lips as a new flood of wetness drips from your core at the sensation.
Steve’s strong hands force your legs to stay open as he dives in, tongue licking between your folds, lapping up your arousal, the taste of which only spurs him on. He starts out like a man starving, fueled by a complete fixation on needing to taste more of you, something he’s been dreaming about for months.
He alternates between suckling on your clit and finding a rhythm of swirling around your core. Just when his patterns become predictable, he changes his angle or position, finding new nerve endings to stimulate you didn’t even realise existed. When he rotates back to his plump lips suctioning around your clit, he unexpectedly slips a thick finger inside you, watching your face intently for your reaction.
“Fuck, Stevie!” You cry, head pulling back and thudding against the mirror, but you’re not concerned with the dull ache when what Steve is doing between your legs has pleasure shivering up your spine and winding tightly in the pit of your stomach.
“Princess, you need to keep quiet for me. Don’t want anyone out in the hall hearing.” Steve growls, torturously taking pause for a moment to pull your panties off completely. He circles your lips with his arousal coated finger, before allowing you to suck your sweetness off it. He kisses the remaining fluid from your lips, then, with a smirk, instructs you to open wide and improvises a gag by stuffing your panties in your mouth.
As his lips wrap around your clit again, constellations of stars flash behind your eyes, and the coil in your lower stomach winding ever tighter, ready to snap at any second. You can’t prevent the muffled moan resounding from your lips through the lace material of your panties and your fingers from gripping at Steve’s hair in an effort to ground yourself from floating off on a cloud of bliss.
“So sweet.” He hums, breath warm against your centre, the sound vibrating through your entire body. His tongue darts around your folds, learning which are your most sensitive areas, what motions cause you to keen and ensuring to replicate them.
When his fingers begin to trace your opening, gathering your slick, you know you’re teetering on the edge, pussy clenching around nothing, needing to be filled.
Your earth shattering end comes as soon as he thrusts those two fingers inside you while his lips tug on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your thighs clasp around his head and toes curl as your thighs begin to quiver with pleasure surging up your spine, your moans quenched by the garment in your mouth.
Steve doesn’t abate licking up every drop you provide him, even though you're trembling through your prolonged orgasm, his grip on your thighs still bruisingly strong as you continue to mess his hair with your hold.
He smiles triumphantly at your blissed out form when you’re over the other side of your high, the bottom half of his face gleaming with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal.
“Told you I’d make it up to you for leaving last night.” Steve whispers, resting his forehead against yours as you catch your breath, slipping your panties discreetly into his jacket pocket. His smile turns soft as his large hands soothingly rub your bare thighs, squeezing slightly when he notices you enjoying the gesture.
You mentally note to take in how delicious he smells, like warm honey and mixed spices, and how his hot skin feels against your own, sending sparks shooting through you wherever his hands chose to rest, knowing at his usual distance you don’t get to appreciate either of these qualities.
His eyes look at you expectantly, as if he can’t quite find the strength to break away from you and he’s looking at you for any sign you want to push him away. It reminds you of how he looked at you when he asked you to stay in his bed last night, in that way that takes away all your air because of how much fondness is suspended in his eyes, and the words he proclaimed: you mean a lot more to me than just a quick fuck.
“As much as I want to stay here where it’s just you and me…” You reluctantly pose, and your heart squeezes at the look of disappointment which flashes over Steve’s features. “I think we should head back in there before someone starts asking questions.”
Steve steps out of the bathroom first, to look less suspicious, keeping a watchful eye outside while you readjust your dress, fix your hair and touch up your makeup the best you can after having mascara smudge underneath your eyes.
Walking back into the gala side by side, Steve’s fingers fiddle apprehensively with your own, as if to silently ask permission, before slotting perfectly into your hand. You glance up at him to find him already looking at you with that fondness which makes dormant butterflies come to life in your stomach and your cheeks burn as hot as the sun.
He holds on for as long as socially acceptable, while no one can see you, only letting go just prior to making your reappearance in the grand hall, falling into a step behind you, but ensuring to give your hand an affectionate squeeze first.
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whore-for-chris-evans · 6 months
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Back Rubs
Steve Rogers x female!reader
Warnings: talk of periods, specifically cramps, fluff, slight dirty talk, no smut.
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The mattress dipped behind you, and one strong arm wrapped around you from behind. A hand brushed your hair away from your neck before you felt a warm breath on your shoulder.
You sighed, lazy smile on your lips. "Baby, not tonight. Please."
Steve gently tilted your face towards him, blue eyes full of adoration and understanding. "Okay," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. The two of you shifted your positions so that you were on top of him now, your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.
You reached out to touch his hand, and he responded by lacing your fingers with his. His other hand constantly brushed up and down your back. You tried to relax, you really did, but the nagging ache in your lower back was proving to be too much. You had taken painkillers, but they did little to ease the discomfort.
"Steve," you said quietly, "are you good at back rubs?"
He frowned a little at the seemingly odd question. "Yeah. Why, you need one?"
You laughed, slightly embarrassed. "I could use one. The cramps are terrible. I don't know if it will help but..." you didn't even get to finish the sentence before Steve jumped into action, making sure you were comfortable lying on your stomach and asking you where it hurt.
He proved to be efficient at it - knuckles and finger tips moving in smooth circles and easing the muscles in your body. You heaved a sigh of relief.
"Feel better?" he chuckled without stopping.
"Oh, much better. I haven't felt this great in ages." You turned slightly to look up at him. "I think that'll do," you said after a while, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as he settled back into his previous position and secured you against himself.
"Thank you," you murmured into his chest, then looked up at him, "I love you."
"I love you so much more, sweetheart. I'm happy to help." Another sweet peck to your hairline.
You reached a hand up to his cheek, feeling the slight scratch of his stubble under your fingers. "You haven't shaved in a few days."
"I know," he sighed, absentmindedly rubbing his jawline.
"You could try growing it out."
"I'm sort of obliged to shave. I have an image to keep up," he told you ruefully, "but maybe on our next vacation..."
"Yeah, no, I'm not saying right away, but I am imagining it..." you trailed off.
"And what do you see?" he teased.
You scrunch up your nose in thought. "I see...a very handsome...lumberjack?" you giggled.
"Lumberjack, hmm?"
"You'd make a good one. Look at you. Splitting logs and pussies since the 1940s."
He cocked his head towards you so sharply you almost thought you'd overstepped with that joke. But then he burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he tried to recover. You found tears streaming down your own cheeks as you hid your face in his chest. "That was so terrible. I don't even know where that came from."
Still shaking his head in amusement he rolled over, trapping you under him. "Well, I don't know about wooden logs so far, but..." he winked, his lips melting into yours.
***
I haven't written in ages good lord-
Shoutout to my girls @breethebee7 and @mainly-marvel for inspiring and helping me write this.
Thank god I was in pain yesterday because it sparked the conversation with Bree that gave me this idea.
Constructive criticism is well appreciated ❤️
@royalwriteroftheuniverse @nana1000night @jamneuromain @sarahrogersevans @peace-love-fanfiction @nekoannie-chan @hawkeyes-queen @georgiapeach30513 @imaginedreamwrite @slut-for-chrisevans @heli0s-writes
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Under my Umbrella
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x female Reader  
Summary: On your vacation in Edinburgh you spot a lonely man sitting in the rain on a bench. You decide to give him a hot beverage 
Word Count:  ~1.8k
Warnings: none I think 
A/N: This takes place before Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen as did certain things in IW because who knows me, knows I only write fluff. So Steve stays and gets his happy ending. 
The sun had just been shining, but now the first drops of rain were landing on the fabric of your jacket. You struggled with the mechanism of your umbrella before you finally managed to open it and even more droplets had found their way onto your skin in the meantime.  
When you were more secured under the protecting fabric, you continued walking towards the pavilion that was selling hot beverages. While you were waiting in line you spotted a man sitting on a bench. He was staring at the castle (as most of the people in Edinburgh were) and didn’t seem bothered by the changed weather. His baseball cap protected his face from the rain, but that was about it. He wasn’t even dressed like most of the tourists with rain jackets and walking boots. 
“Don’t mind him, he’s been here for a few days now. He’s harmless,” the vendor ripped you out of your thoughts and you realized that it was your turn to order. You ordered two hot beverages and struggled to hold the hot containers and the umbrella at the same time. You managed to arrive at the bench the man sat at with only one shoulder slightly more wet. 
“Um hi, I thought you might want something to drink to warm you up. I’ve got tea or hot chocolate if you want.” Blue eyes started into yours and you almost let the paper cups slip. Wet pieces of hair came out under the cap, his beard also had some droplets of water in it, but his blue eyes were what caught your attention. “Don’t feel pressured, I just saw you sitting here in the rain and thought you’d might like something.” 
“That was very thoughtful of you. I’d like the hot chocolate if that’s okay with you.” His voice was raspy as if he hadn’t used it in a while. 
“Of course, I offered, right?” You tried to hold out the right cup, but lost the grip on the umbrella you had with your arm. 
“Let me,” he said and when he reached out to take the umbrella and hold it over your head he was very gentle. 
“Would it be okay for me to sit here and drink my tea?” you asked and he nodded and told you to wait before you sat down. He took a t-shirt out of a backpack that you hadn’t spotted under his legs and swiped the bench dry with it. You offered to share the umbrella and the man agreed under the premise that he would hold it. 
It was quiet for a while until he said: “Do you know that over two million people visit the castle every year?” 
“Wow, that’s a lot. But I get it, I haven’t seen something like this before. And the people here are so nice!” 
This was a start of a discussion for the two of you. He provided more facts about the city and you learned that he wasn’t originally form Edinburgh too. You talked for almost an hour and the cups were empty when you had to leave. 
“Thank you for the hot chocolate and the companionship,” he said when you stood up and he got up with you – still holding the umbrella. 
“You’re welcome. Thank you for the nice conversation -” you stopped and noticed that you haven’t gotten his name. 
“My name is Steve,” he provided. 
“Farewell, Steve,” you said and took your umbrella. When you looked back you saw him sitting again in the rain and you weren’t sure if he really had a small smile on his lips or if it was your imagination. 
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The next day you found yourself back in princess street garden. There were a few reasons for that: 1. The castle was like a magnet, as you could see it from almost every point in town. 2. The garden was such a beautiful place! It was so green and clean, you felt relaxed walking through it. And the 3. reason was something that you had to admit was Steve. You just hoped to see him again. 
Was he living there? The vendor had said he had been there for days, but he hadn't smelled or anything. On the other hand he had a backpack with clothes in it. Maybe he was an unfortunate traveler that had been stranded here? Maybe he wasn’t even there anymore and you had come for nothing. Well not nothing as you had clearly come for the view of the castle and the tea. Maybe you’d try the hot chocolate today as Steve had seemed to enjoy it. 
And why on earth was your mind always going back to Steve? A guy you had talked to for not even an hour? And were your feet also carrying you faster when you saw the shade of a man with a baseball hat on a bench? You stopped by the pavilion again and ordered two hot chocolates this time. 
“I’m trading a hot chocolate for a fun fact about the castle,” you said and held the cup in front of Steves face. This time you were sure there was a smile on his face as you saw it clearly. 
“Above a door in the royal palace are the initials MAH engraved. They did this when Mary, queen of the Scots, gave birth to King James IV.” 
“Definitely worth a cup of hot chocolate,” you held out the cup and he took it and patted the seat next to him. This time you didn’t have an excuse to sit as closely to him as it wasn’t raining. You were in the middle of a sip when a touch on your leg startled you. You looked over to Steve who pointed a finger towards the grass where a small squirrel was, before it continued its way towards the two of you. It nibbled shortly on your shoelaces before it decided it wasn’t a snack and went back to its next target. 
“Did you see that?” you asked full of glee. 
“I did!” he confirmed. It did seem like he just noticed that his hand was still slightly touching your leg and he removed it. “You want to take a walk with me?” he asked and you agreed. 
Visiting Steve was like an unspoken rule. Just like you never asked why he was always sitting on that bench. Time with him flew and one hour turned into two. He made you laugh, he was very attentive and, on the day, when it rained again, he held the umbrella so you wouldn’t get wet while he had to duck his head. 
“This is my last day here. I should be packing, but I rather saw you for the last time.” You couldn’t believe that you told him that. But there was nothing to lose, this was the last time you saw him. 
“I think I have to stay a little longer, but at least I’ve got to know you.” You had reached the end of the park and looked at each. Steves skin was tinted red from the reflection of the umbrella and you had never seen someone more beautiful! 
“I’ll miss our daily dates,” you almost whispered. 
“I’ll miss you,” was Steves simple response. He bent forward and suddenly he pressed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first but then he put more pressure in it when you didn’t pull away. His hand was touching your face softly and his finger stroked your cheek when he put some distance between your faces. 
“Stay safe, sunshine” 
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A few years later 
“I can’t believe that we took the hard way. No one else here is out of breath!” you complained when you let yourself fall on the grass and watched the people walking the paved path while you and Steve had walked the hard way to the top of Arthurs seat to enjoy the view of Edinburgh. 
“Have I told you that you look even more beautiful than the day I first saw you, sunshine?” Steve sat down so close to you, so he could put his arm behind you and you could lean against it. 
“You tell me that every day,” you laughed and put your head on his shoulder. 
“It’s the truth! When I saw you struggling holding all three items in your hand and the rain falling down your umbrella, a small slip of sun came through and illuminated you. I don’t call you sunshine for no reason.” 
“You are a charmer. I can’t believe we’ve met that way!” 
It had been two days after your farewell when you saw the news about Captain America destroying a train station in Edinburgh. It only took a few seconds of the footage until you realized that the homeless/ stranded man you had seen daily was actually Captain America who had been on the run. Months later there had been a letter in your postbox. It had been from Steve who figured out where you lived and wanted to give you the option if you wanted to see him or not. 
Of course you had wanted to see him and after a lot of dates, that didn’t include a bench in the park, you moved in together and finally decided to visit the place again where it had all begun. 
“It is a nice story. But I think we could leave out the part where you thought I was homeless,” he laughed and pressed a kiss to your side of the head. He was very affectionate since the two of you began dating and you were loving it. When the two of you met again in person, he had told you that he had been searching for Wanda. And while he had be sitting in the park, he had heard about all the stuff people said about the castle, so he could provide the facts he told you in exchange for the hot chocolate. 
“I will never leave out that part. It is one of the best parts.” it was your favorite part because it made everyone laugh. 
“My favorite part was meeting you,” he pulled you towards him until you both fell back onto the ground and kissed you. Never in your life would you have thought that you’d meet your future husband on your vacation. Not that Steve knew about your upcoming proposal. The only other person who knew was the vendor in princess street garden who would make sure that your bench wouldn’t be occupied tomorrow. But for now you would enjoy being in Steves arm. 
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nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months
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Protecting my best friend
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PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1K
SUMMARY | All of the Avengers are going to a bar, and Steve is keeping a close eye on the man who is trying to get your attention. He is trying his hardest to keep his cool, but he won't hesitate to intervene when things go too far, and you're getting uncomfortable.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Protective Steve, a SHIELD agent making sexist jokes about women, non-consensual touching (not sexual, just physical), and broken bones.
A/N | I would absolutely love to write more for Steve, so if you have a request, please let me know! It can be fluff, smut or angst - or a combination! Thank you in advance! 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜
Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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''Dude, you really need to calm down, everything is okay!'' Sam says as he looks at the scowl on Steve's face. He's been watching you and the man you're talking to like a hawk because he doesn't want anything to happen to you. ''I don't know, she seems uncomfortable,'' he says as he's looking at the SHIELD agent you're talking to. You're completely fine, but Steve has always been very protective of you since you joined the team. While you're talking to the agent you keep looking over to Steve, and you have noticed he keeps staring at you, so you excuse yourself for a moment to talk to him.
''Steve, you honestly have a bigger staring problem than Barnes,'' you say with a sigh as you're standing in front of him. Everyone at the table chuckles at your remark, and you're getting a soft ''Hey!'' from Bucky, but he laughs too. ''I'm absolutely fine, so can you please just let me finish my conversation with Connor before you start burning holes into the back of my head?'' you ask him and he nods, grabbing his drink and turning back on the stool he's sitting on so he's facing the other Avengers again.
You walk back to the agent you were having a conversation with. ''I'm so sorry for that, Connor, Captain Rogers was just worried,'' you say with a small smile, and he nods. ''It's okay, but I would be worried too if I were him. I wouldn't let such a gorgeous lady like yourself talk to other men,'' he shrugs and now you are getting a little uncomfortable even though he called you gorgeous. The two of you carried on your conversation, but he kept making more sexist remarks like that and now you honestly wish Steve was looking your way. ''Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom,'' you say and you're starting to walk away, but he doesn't let you as he grabs your arm.
You let out a small whine at the feeling of him squeezing your arm like that, and due to Steve and his super soldier hearing, he can hear you perfectly fine. His head snaps to the side in an instant and when he sees what is happening, he pulls Bucky off of the stool next to him and he immediately follows Steve. ''Are you okay, Pumpkin?'' he asks and you shake your head, because Connor is still holding your arm pretty tightly, making tears stream down your face. Steve grabs Connor's arm and in an instant, he lets go of your arm, Bucky pulls you away from him and out of the way so he can take care of you.
''How bad does it hurt, doll?'' Bucky says as he inspects the place on your upper arm where Connor squeezed you. ''It mostly burns, but that's it. But I was really scared, he was okay one minute but when I came back he made all these sexist remarks about me and women in general and when I excused myself to go to the bathroom he didn't let me,'' You explain, the tears streaming down your face more steadily now. ''Oh doll, I'm so sorry about what happened,'' he says as he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he shields you with his body from what is happening behind the two of you.
Steve dragged Connor outside by his collar and pushed him into an alley, so they wouldn't be seen. You ran after the both of them at first but Bucky was quick enough to stand in front of you since you didn't want to go back inside. ''I just can't believe he's doing this, he has no right to be jealous. I get that he was making sexist remarks and everything, but Steve is going too far now,'' you say, softly sobbing into Bucky's chest. ''Doll, I promise you he's not doing it because he's jealous, he's just extremely protective over you. I get that it looks like he's jealous, but he isn't,'' Bucky says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.
You're well aware that Steve has always been protective - and sometimes even possessive - over you, but you didn't mind until tonight. You could hear grunts and the sounds of broken bones coming from behind the thick wall of muscle your cheek was pressed up against, and it only made you sob harder into Bucky's chest, you never meant for any of this to happen. Not long after you can hear Connor groan so you know he's still alive, and Bucky's body quickly gets replaced with Steve's as he pulls you into his arms this time. ''I'm so sorry you had to hear all of that Pumpkin,'' he says against your hair, but all you can do is cry into his chest.
''C'mon, let's go back to the Compound so you can calm down a little, okay?'' Steve says and you nod. The Compound isn't far from the bar where you were so he just picked you up and carried you there, and Bucky informed everyone inside the two of you went back. ''Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Don't want to be alone,'' you ask and Steve nods. ''Of course, Pumpkin,'' he says, and when the two of you reach his bedroom, he sets you down on the bed and he hands you one of his old t-shirts to sleep in. He goes to the bathroom to change in there so you could have some privacy as you changed into the shirt Steve gave you, which was way too big but it smells like him so it's okay.
''Can I come back in?'' Steve asks and you say that he can. You already went and laid down under the covers, and not long after Steve slipped in beside you. You move over to him and your head finds his place on his chest, your leg put over his. His arms are around you and pulling you closer before he puts a soft kiss on your forehead. ''Thank you for protecting me, it means a lot,'' you say and Steve just smiles. ''Everything for my Pumpkin,'' he says, and your eyes fall shut as sleep is taking over quickly when you're wrapped in his warm body acting like your personal heater. You have a nice dreamless sleep and feel well-rested in the morning, and you're even more thankful for Steve saving you now.
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benedictscanvas · 1 year
Note
Hi loveee❤️
So i have a request for Steve Rogers x reader
So basically the reader is shy! Insecure maybe
She is really quiet and has a badd crush on the captain but is not able to express her feelings necessarily. Overthinks alot. It's Steve's birthday and she works really hard on knitting a scarf because he once told her his ma used to knit him scarves. She writes a sweet letter for him along with it finally expressing her feelings. On his birthday they sit around and he decides to open everyone's gifts. She starts thinking her gift is nothing compared to tony's bmw or nat's gold wrist watch and basically tells him that she had ordered his gift but it got delayed. He finds out about her scarf and letter and confronts her💕
Ends with alot of fluffff 😌❤️
Ik this is all over the place but i needed to vent this idea here😂
This is utterly adorable and so are youuuu, thank you for a gorgeous request, my lovely <3 I got a little carried away with it! || 2.2k words of pure fluff
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The little parcel is wrapped in deep red paper, tied with a crisp blue ribbon and the ends are curled with scissors. You've hidden it underneath the sofa where you're sat in its corner, both feet on the floor in an extra attempt to conceal its whereabouts. It's difficult not to be a little embarrassed by the effort you've put into it, but you keep reminding yourself the kind of person Steve is. How much he appreciates effort above end result.
But still, the reason it's hidden at all is in case you bottle it and can't hand it to him. You feel safer with a get out clause.
"Go on, Cap, start with me. We all know you save the best til first."
Tony, of course, is the one to kick proceedings off by handing Steve a golden envelope. So extreme, and funnily enough, so not Steve. But you knew that theatrics were Tony's thing and that whatever was inside would likely be perfect for him.
And you were right. Inside the envelope were two tickets to see the new play on Broadway that Steve had been dying to see. Tickets were so scarce even the Avengers themselves had been having trouble securing them, but Tony was a cut above the rest. Steve looked genuinely thrilled, far more than he had when he'd seen the envelope.
"This is too kind, Tony, thank you. Really."
A look of understanding passed between them. There was a lump in your throat. You subtly adjusted your foot so that your heel nudged the present further under the sofa.
"We get it, he's very rich," Sam said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, "But mine's a knockout, seriously. You're gonna crap yourself, Tin Man."
He launched a present across the room at Steve who caught it with little effort, but shook his head at the room's antics. This mass present opening had, of course, not been his idea. He would much rather have done all this individually with everyone, or better yet, not done it at all and have nobody even remember that it was his birthday. But they'd all insisted behind his back. Obviously. You'd been there, and wanted to speak up about whether it would really be Steve's thing, but you didn't want to sound like you were knocking their kindness.
Sam had bought him a new sketchbook, but it was circular, and bore the design of his shield on the front. Thoughtful and, again, expensive, according to Steve, who had immediately examined the quality of the paper inside with wide, appreciative eyes.
Nat had bought him a new watch, and swore she got it completely legally and above board. That was expensive too. Vision and Wanda produced a gorgeous vintage record player that she had apparently enchanted to play whatever Steve wanted to hear. Bruce had built him an actual motorbike.
It was all a bit much. Yes, you were an Avenger too and you could afford whatever you would have wanted to get Steve, but you'd really thought homemade would be a million times more appreciated. Would show just how important he had become to you.
Unlike Bruce, unfortunately your version of homemade could not include a new bike.
Everyone's presents came and went while you were stuck in your own head, struggling not to hyperventilate, until Bucky placed a friendly hand on your shoulder.
"Just you left, doll."
You hadn't even seen what Bucky had given him, lost in your own musings. You were sure it would have been beautiful, Bucky knew him inside out. It was clear that your mind had been made up, anyway. You plastered a sheepish look on your face that wasn't all that made up.
"I meant to say before we started, your present hasn't arrived yet, Steve," you said, sorrowful, even though he was smiling at you as if what you'd said had no meaning, "I'm really sorry. I'll get it to you as soon as its here."
"I hope you know that none of you had to get me anything anyway," he said honestly, looking around the room before his gaze landed back on you, "Please don't worry."
You smiled, small and unconvincing, nodding your agreement. You rose from your seat, assuming the proceedings had finished for now before the not-so-surprise party later that evening. You delivered a final back-heeled kick to the present as you stood up, just to make sure it was fully under the sofa.
"I'm still sorry," you said quietly, "I need to go and get ready, I'll see you all later."
You turned and all but fled the room, not staying to hear Tony's confusion about you not usually needing any time at all to get ready for anything. You had specifically been trying not to make a scene, and somehow you'd made one anyway. It was difficult to keep the tears in your eyes at bay.
You just felt silly. It was something you hadn't really felt since high school until this year, and now you often felt a little silly anytime you left Steve's presence. He was just so good and so unbelievably attractive and made you feel so utterly at home when you spent time with him - it was difficult not to feel silly afterwards when you lay on your bed and romanticised your every interaction.
When you were actually with him, though, he never made you feel silly. He made you feel funny and intelligent and altogether giddy sometimes, but never silly. The way he valued your words, your opinions, your company, it was impossible for your heart not to skip inside your chest.
You retreated to your bed now, flopping down right in the centre of it, tired and crying. Just a little bit. He was so kind to you, all the time. He would've pretended he loved the scarf. He would've liked it, probably, but he couldn't love it, not when it was such a tiny gesture compared with everyone else's.
And the note. Shit, amongst all the dread and anxiety, you had forgotten the note. Neatly taped to the parcel and longer than it should have been. For Steve's eyes only. Practically a confession. If you hadn't have fled, you would've been forced to give that to him in front of anyone, which categorically could not happen.
"Y/N? You in there?"
Steve. You froze, then hastily wiped at your eyes, checking them in the mirror. They were a little red, but you hoped he wasn't feeling observant on his birthday. Plastering on a smile, you opened the door. He filled the entire doorframe, all broad shoulders and-
You tried to stop that thought before it blossomed.
"Sorry, just picking out an outfit. Everything okay?"
"I came to ask you that," he said, and he almost looked embarrassed but you had no idea why, "Why wouldn't you give me your present?"
You frowned.
"I told you-"
He brought the parcel, your parcel, out from behind his back. Ah. You must have kicked it hard enough for it to come out the other side. Stupid. The embarrassment suddenly made sense. He gestured for you to let him inside, since you were still blocking the entrance, so you traipsed over to sit on your bed. If he was looking embarrassed, you guessed he'd read the note. This was torture.
"I haven't opened it," he said quickly, shutting your down and sitting next to you. He kept his distance, "And I won't, if you don't want me to. But I'd really, really like to, if you'll let me."
"You read the note?" you asked, slumped and resigned to your fate, surprised by the confusion that darted across his features. You noticed the present was the wrong way up. He hadn't turned it over. For some reason, maybe self-destruction or a cruel strand of hope, you turned it over for him, to the side where the bow and the note were on full display. Untouched.
"I didn't see it," he murmured to himself, "Can I?"
Still he waited for your permission. Such a lovely man, with such lovely eyes that, even now, were looking at you with delicate care. It ached. You nodded.
He untied the bow with careful fingers that almost looked shaky in the low lamp light you'd curated within your room. The envelope was opened with equal care, and soon he was holding the A5 paper in front of his face, eyes scanning through the words.
Steve,
You told me once that your ma used to knit you scarves, that sometimes you wished you still had one of them now. I know it could never be the same, but I hope this keeps you warmer than you would be without it. One of your gifts, I think, is to bring warmth to everyone around you and the warmth you have brought to my own life is indescribable. I could never repay it, but this is a step in the right direction, I hope.
Happy birthday, Steve.
Yours, Y/N
You held your breath as he read. You could remember each line painstakingly, having taken so long to craft it. Even he wasn't oblivious enough not to recognise the meaning behind your words, the feeling that weaved itself around the page.
It had been too long. When you braved a glance at his face, his eyeline told you he was reading it a second time. You watched him get to the end and start from the beginning. Again.
You may have been unbelievably nervous, but it didn't erase your impatience.
"You're going to have to say something at some point, Steve," you breathed, not realised how out of breath you'd gotten just watching him. His eyes snapped to yours like he'd forgotten you were there. Wide and disbelieving. Impossible to read, "Or you can just leave, I guess, if you want. We don't have to talk about it again, it was such a stupid-"
He shook his head, stopping your train of thought from spiralling. But instead of speaking, he set the letter down neatly on his lap and ripped open the wrapping paper, pulling out a knitted scarf that was striped brown and beige and designed to match his leather jacket perfectly. You'd searched for the right yarn for weeks. You'd never tell him.
"How long?"
His words were little more than a whisper. There were so many things he could have been talking about.
"How long what?"
"How long did it take?" he said, turning the fabric over in his hands, running his fingers over the stitches with fingers that were definitely trembling now, "To make it, I mean?"
"Oh, not long-" you began, but stopped when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. You felt that lump in your throat again. You'd never seen him cry. It was impossible to tell him anything but the truth, "A few months. Whenever I had a free moment and not every single day, but a few months. Five, actually."
He just stared. You kept talking.
"I just wanted it special for you. I'm sorry I lied. Everyone spent so much, I got embarrassed. It was silly."
"Not silly," he said, firm and serious, like he was angry you'd even think it, "You're not silly. You're perfect, this is perfect. I can't- I can't believe you'd remember such a tiny comment from so long ago."
You shrugged. He'd just called you perfect and you were trying not to glow.
"You'd remember. You always remember things I've said, however small or silly. Wanted someone to do that for you."
"You're not silly, you've never been silly," he says again, clutching the scarf and staring down at it again rather than you, "I only remember that stuff because I'm so in love with you I can't stand it. I never thought you'd-"
Now you were lightheaded. Had he...? He was still staring at the scarf, awestruck and looking completely oblivious to what he'd just said. But he meant it. Steve never said anything he didn't mean. Now you were glowing, bursting, grinning and you didn't try to stop it.
"You never thought I'd be so in love with you too that I can barely breathe with it?" you supplied, watching again as his watery eyes snapped up to yours once more, shock bleeding from him, "You thought wrong, I guess. Surprise."
You giggled at yourself, because you were talking nonsense and Steve loved you. It was heaven when he giggled too, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, not the scarf, and then offering you the material. You took it wordlessly, understanding between you as there always was, and wound it around his neck. It fit perfectly.
He took your hand from the scarf you were adjusting before you could react and kissed your thumb. At your sheer delight, he kissed your forefinger, then your middle, ring, pinky and then right back up to the thumb, tiny little kisses. He stared at your hand.
"Magic," he said softly, taking your hand and his to cup your cheek. You couldn't help but close your eyes, "Promise me you'll never feel embarrassed with me again. I can't bear it. You're just magic, you have to see it."
For him, you could try. For now, all you could do was lean in to kiss him and hope you'd get to do it forever.
if you'd like to request something, please do so here. i'd love to hear from you, sunflower <3
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dolce-peach · 1 year
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all i need
pairing: steve rogers x reader
warnings: angst, action, fighting
a/n: soooo i haven't written for steve in a while 🥺 this was originally gonna be an angsty mess BUT your girl is absolutely touch starved sooooooooooooo in the midst of finishing another request, i had this other idea pop up and just ran with it -- hope yall enjoy 🥰 also happy new year!!
permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fangirl
** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **
masterlist
----
The wound wasn't as dilapidating as you thought it would be, but it was still a pain in the ass.
You gritted your teeth as you stumbled back, your knees nearly giving way.  You should’ve known better.  Perhaps it was your confidence, or rather ignorance of the enemy.  When you finally noticed Peter’s worried-sick expression as he caught you before you fell, you swallowed hard, mustering a smile.
“Cap, Y/N’s been hit!” he nearly screamed into the radio.  “Please send backup!  Anything!”
You shook your head as Peter pressed his gloved hands on your wound.  The strength of his pressure practically knocked the wind out of you.  “It’s fine.  Just a flesh wound.”
“On my way.  Are there any more soldiers in the area?”
“No, sir!” Peter exclaimed, the eyes on his mask squinting as his head darted around.  “Holy cow, that’s a lot of blood -- please hurry!”
You placed your hand on his before giving his hand a squeeze.  “Calm down, Peter,” you hissed through the pain.  “I'm not gonna die, but I might have a few cracked ribs from you putting too much damn pressure.”
His eye pieces expanded widely.  His hands fell away.  “Oh, uh, sorry…agh!”  His hands darted back to their position as you had more blood pool and drip through your suit.
“You’re doing great,” you said patiently.  
Footsteps approached quickly, stopping at the entrance of the lab.
“Oh my God,” Steve breathed as he knelt quickly, taking in the situation.  He eventually secured his shield over his shoulders.  “Stark, evac, now.”
His face was stone as he easily lifted you in his arms.  “Move out, Queens.”
“Yes, sir,” Peter answered with a squeak, following closely behind.
You couldn’t see much as your vision was beginning to fade, so you leaned your head against Steve’s chest.  When your eyes fluttered closed to catch your breath, he gently shook you.
“Eyes open.”
You groaned.  “One more minute.”
His eyes were fixed up ahead at the opening Quinjet.  “Nat, we need the trauma kit,” he told her as she came rushing out.  He put his finger to his ear.  “Stark, we have to go.”
“Jesus, what were you hit with?” Natasha muttered as she helped set you down on the floor of the jet.
You winced as she injected you with painkillers.  “A bullet, I think.”
“You think?” Steve shot, his voice low.
Even if you could answer him, you decided not to.  You closed your eyes, trying to drown out the dull throbbing that covered your entire stomach.  Truth be told, you actually couldn’t really remember what happened.  It was all so fast.  One moment you were using your momentum to throw someone to the ground, the next you pushed Peter out of the way just as some goon pulled the trigger.
Steve opened his mouth to say more when Natasha shot him a look.  Her attention turned back towards you.  “Well, I don’t think it hit any of your vital organs,” she said.  “You’re bleeding pretty badly, though.”
“What a miracle,” you said dryly.
Before long, the Quinjet was up in the air.  The ride back to the compound was pretty turbulent, or maybe that was just the pain talking.  It was damn near impossible to take a nap, mostly because Natasha kept changing your bandages.
You hissed through your teeth in pain.  
Peter’s eyes were wide as he sat across from you.  Thoughts zoomed behind his eyes, and they weren’t going to slow down any time soon.
”Peter,” you called.
He was by your side in less than a second.  ”Y-yeah?”
”You okay?”
The poor boy had tears threatening to fall as he nodded vigorously.  ”Yeah, I’m okay.”
You pursed your lips into a smile.  ”Good.”  You sighed.  ”I’m not going to die, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
”Oh, no, I was just concerned, that’s all, I mean…” he trailed off before looking down.  ”I’m gonna stop talking now.”
You immediately regretted laughing as more blood soaked through.  ”Ah, shit…” you groaned.  ”You know, it’s not your fault, kid.”
Peter wiped his eyes with his gloved hands.  ”Okay…”
Unbeknownst to you, Steve sat in the corner.  His blue eyes watched you carefully, as if you were going to disappear or breathe your last.  They were filled with guilt with the fact that if he went with you instead, maybe you wouldn’t be bleeding out on the jet floor.
But something else stirred, a certain frustration.  You weren’t always the most careful.  Even in something as trivial as board games on game night, you were always the first one to sacrifice yourself, and that quality was something Steve always feared.  It was like looking in a mirror, into the eyes of someone who wouldn’t hesitate laying their life on the line.
You were a loose cannon.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Steve shot as you both stormed into the infirmary.
The rest of the group decided to congregate in the lab just outside, though you noticed they kept their distance.  It wasn’t the first time you and Steve were arguing, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but there was something about his aura that seemed different.  
He was comfortable with you, and that was always a good thing, but when it came down to keeping your relationship as professional as possible is where things were grey.  
“I stepped in because Peter needed backup.  That was my job.”  You didn't dare catch his eye as you set your gear down on the long table.  You quickly got some gauze and put pressure on your wound.  “I did what I needed to do.  End of story.”
“Your job was to fly recon and report back, not get tangled up in that mess and nearly get yourself killed.”
You were snapping.  “So I should’ve just left Peter there to die?  He’s a kid!”
“He knew the risks, and so should you,” Steve said coldly.
You couldn’t believe your ears.  “Do you hear yourself right now?”
You could almost see his pupils constrict dangerously.  
“The mission was —“
“Never in jeopardy,” you finished with clear diction.  You approached him slowly, glaring up at him.  “And I managed to save both the kid and the hostages.”
“You’re missing the point,” he said, his voice low.  “You could’ve died out there.”
“No, you’re missing the point.  It’s fine by me if everyone comes home but me.  That’s the sacrifice I’ve always been willing to make.  I thought you understood that better than anyone.”
He slammed the counter with a fist, shattering the plastic of the tray holding surgical instruments you had yet to use.  They fell clanging to the floor.  Your eyes widened with a fear you never knew you could have around him.  
He removed his hand from the table with a crunch and walked out without another word.
“Uh, Miss Y/N, ma’am?” Peter tentatively chimed in at the door.  “A-are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” you told him with a pursed smile.  “Good work today, Peter.  C-could you send Bruce in?  I might need help stitching this up.”
He gave you a sweet smile before bounding down the hall to get said doctor.  You wanted to follow him, but your feet were glued there at the table.  If you ripped yourself away, you would’ve collapsed with the way your knees were shaking.
Instead, tears began falling on their own.  You gasped for air as a sob wretched its way out of your throat.  Fearing someone might hear, you clasped your hand over your mouth, though your body still shook from your cries.  
Fear was the one thing keeping you from running after Steve to make this right.
You kept yourself sequestered in your room for the remainder of the day, emerging only for dinner before going back again.  You hid yourself under your blankets, trying to sleep, but the pain kept you tossing and turning.
Steve was nowhere to be found.  Part of you was relieved, but the other part of you was insanely worried.  Even though he was always the level-headed one, you hoped he wasn’t doing anything too rash.  
As you turned in your bed, you sighed as you sat up, shaking your head.  This wasn’t going to get better without you being the one to apologize, or at least say something to salvage your relationship as teammates, if not for the sake of your friendship.
You started for the door to your room, only to open it to find Steve standing there.  
He mirrored your shocked expression, his ocean eyes holding waves of emotions — relief that he found you, remorse for what he did, anger that you were alone with the tracks of your tears paved into your cheeks.  He was afraid to touch you, to make any sudden movement that would send you back into your cave.
Your heart was in your throat as you managed to squeak out his name.  “Steve…”
It was more than enough permission for him to take a cautious step closer.
“I…”  The words were right there.
With his hand slowly raised, his rough thumb grazed your cheek.  You found yourself sighing into his touch, closing your eyes as you came home.
He silently took you in, studying you for a moment as he moved closer.  You could tell he didn’t want to make a wrong move.  It honestly scared you to see him so unsure.
“I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, your eyes shooting open.  “No, I shouldn’t have —“
“No no, sweetheart, it was my fault,” he murmured again.  “You must’ve been scared.”
“I’m fine,” you reassured him.  It was a small white lie, but it didn’t matter, because at that moment, with him there, you were fine.
He gave you a small smile before it faded, his thick brows furrowing.  “I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that,” he said.  “I shouldn’t have left you alone.  It wasn’t your fault.  I was just scared.”
Guilt made you heavier as you thought of the torment he probably put himself through the entire day.  You took his face in your hands, your fingers trailing over his jaw and neck.  “I only did what I did because I knew in my heart that I needed to save Peter.  I wasn’t even thinking of the consequences.  I just knew I would never forgive myself if I stood by and did nothing.”
“I know,” he said softly with a small nod.  “I know.”
You knew he knew.  
The tension was still suffocating.  
“Would you believe me if I said I had a whole speech planned out and everything?” he tried joking.
When you cracked a smile, relief washed over his expression.  
“But when I saw you, all of it went out the window,” he finished, searching your eyes.  “All I needed was to see you.  That’s it.”
“Me too,” you whispered.
He leaned down, his lips hovering over yours, your foreheads brushing against each other.  You closed his eyes as his begged for permission.  You answered by closing the gap.  For a few moments you were lost in his taste and how full his lips were.  He held you so gently, so carefully as his hands pulled your waist closer to his hips.  
His skin felt so hot, and you could feel it through his lips, your arms brushing against each other, and his chest that he cocooned you in.  He tried to show you that he could be your home, that he was your home.  Your arms trailed from his chest to wrap around his neck as you raised yourself on your tiptoes.
You wanted him to hold you forever, to keep you locked away in his embrace. You wanted him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear the entire night.  You wanted him to kiss you and praise you and make you new.
You desperately needed him to revive you, and you had a feeling that he knew it too.
The kiss was broken when he lifted you, your legs locking themselves around his waist.  You quickly caught your breath, gazing down at him.
He was looking at you like you were his world, and his eyes were the universe you lived in.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
“Steve.”  A guilty part of you loved it when he overthought, but now wasn’t the time to tease.  “I always love it when you kiss me, and that’s not gonna change.”
It was always funny whenever he grew bashful.  A guy his size and reputation — it was almost comical.  His broad shoulders caved in a bit, and he nervously bit his lips before pursing them into a half-smile.
There were more things you wanted to say, but you didn’t.  Instead your brain succumbed to the overwhelming thought of kissing him again.
“Hold me,” you gave the soft command before you gave in.
And that he did.  
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akariamai · 1 year
Text
Human
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Part 2, Part 3
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Android!Reader
Word Count: 1170
You retained vague memories during moments of your creation. Long nights listening to the ramblings of your creator as they built a synthetic body capable of protecting your being from both natural and unnatural forces.
You were programmed to help situate a world war 2 veteran and integrate them into a changed world. Your creator was a massive fan of the man, it was evident from the old posters hanging on the walls, collectibles neatly placed in the bookshelf, and old tapes that remain unopened. Your creator built you, an android, to assist the man in any shape possible. Anything the veteran would ask and you would complete your assignment with grace and excellence.
You could be a cleaner, a cook, a teacher, a plumber, and even a friend. You were designed to learn and adapt like a human. You looked the part, created to blend in, the only exception was you were not alive in the sense of humans. Humans are flesh and bones while you are nuts and bolts.
“Are you ready for your name?” Your creator stuffed away various tools and wires from your sight. He had waited to name you till you were fully operational.
“Yes.” You forced out a smile. Humans smiled. They smile when they’re happy, excited or content. Would this be exciting for a human? To be given a name. A label for others to recognize. “I can’t wait!” You were slowly getting used to synthetically replicating human emotions. You were designed to do so by one of the greatest minds in the world. Was that your own thought process or a programmed code?
“MODEL AX400 register your name.” He waited for a moment before replying, “[Reader].”
“My name is [Reader].” It was a monumental occasion for both your creator and you. Your creator was going to drop you off to your owner and shake a few old hands as praises were sung to him. You were going to follow your new owner, an apparent captain from World War 2, and vertically await for a command.
The ride was loud as your creator blasted his beloved music. It was evident he was in a good mood. You were perfectly operational and the location of your drop off was becoming closer and closer. You noticed the way he fidgeted as you’ve both walked closer to his favorite war hero.
“Captain!” His voice shakes a bit, “It’s an honor to meet you.”
The Captain shook his hand before offering to do the same to you. No one has ever offered to shake your hand before. You’ve been operating for a few months before this meeting.
“They’re not a person, Captain.” Your creator laughed. He found it hilarious for others to confuse you with an actual person. All his hard work melted into you and you were perfect. “This is MODEL AX400. They answer to the name [Reader].”
“It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” You gave him a gentle smile, “You have a very impressive record.”
Steve was stunned at your lifelike appearance and performance. He wouldn’t have guessed you were anything other than human. It was strange seeing how advanced technology had become since he went under.
“Since SHIELD cannot have a SHIELD agent be at your beck and call to help you with readjusting to society, [Reader] here will do so. She will be under your command and answer any and every question you’ll have. She can even do chores.” Your creator especially loved to boast about everything you were capable of doing. You were one of a kind after all.
“I can’t accept,” He tried to argue. There was so much unknown about the technology used to create you that he didn’t want to take the chance. It also seemed costly to just give such advanced technology to be a babysitter and educator.
“She was made specifically for you.” 
“Don’t worry, Captain Rogers.” You tried to ease his obvious apprehension, “I am equipped to handle any situation that may cause you harm. Unlike humans, I don’t get tired or sick. I am not required to have a social life so I’ll be ready for when you need me.”
“She’ll be able to handle anything that’s thrown at her.” Your creator patted your shoulder, “[Reader] is programmed to contact me if she determines a part is broken or a glitch has made its way into her programming. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
~~~
It has been a couple of days since Steve made a space for you in his apartment. He gave you a blanket in the night despite you telling him you wouldn’t get cold. In the night, you distracted yourself with gathering more information to make Steve’s apartment more homey. His apartment was bare and organized.
“Are you sure you want to come with me on a run?” It was a question he always asked before heading out. Despite knowing you weren’t a person, he still felt bad for leaving you alone while he ran. You made sure you would be able to see him at all times when he ran. You could see anything and everything able to hurt him. He was your person and you would ensure his safety.
You assured him, “I’ll be alright, Captain Rogers.” You only wanted to complete the job without any distractions.
“Steve.” He said, “You can call me Steve.”
“Okay Steve.”
It grew quiet as the two of you walked towards the door. You carried his water bottle as you followed him. He was closely becoming accustomed to your presence in his life. Any question, no matter how small, would be answered by you. Most of his questions were about events that occurred after he was missing.
There was one question that struck you as old. It was not information about an event but of a person. A woman. One of the heads of SHIELD. Upon your research, you found he and Peggy Carter were close during this time in the army. You couldn’t understand the feelings he shared for the woman but you wanted to. You told him everything that was public knowledge about the life she was able to live.
Once you both made it to the park, you sat on one of the benches as you watched. A lone monarch butterfly captured your attention as it fluttered near you. You studied it, engraving it into your memory, and stockpiling government data on the insect. Its numbers were slowly decreasing by the years. You calculated in the near future, the insect would become endangered if humans continued to deforest the wintering forest in Mexico, do nothing about climate change or insist on using pesticides that are killing off milkweed plants.
“Are you okay?” Steve was lightly sweating after his run and he noticed you weren’t there to greet him as you always did. 
You offered his water bottle, “I was… distracted. It won’t happen again.” You weren’t supposed to get distracted from your goals. You were supposed to protect and serve Steve.
Masterlist
196 notes · View notes
beyondspaceandstars · 7 months
Text
Ivy
Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader Warnings: Cheating/implied cheating, slight angst Summary: Although you're already happily married, you and your apartment neighbor Steve have started a bit of an affair. And it's growing. Rapidly. (Inspired by: "Ivy" by Taylor Swift) A/N: oh hello everyone :) this is an older fic I wrote right after evermore dropped (hence the title and lyrics) but I'm going through and publishing some of my old writing I've been holding onto (I think I published this one under a different account but I spruced it up a bit). Hopefully newer stuff will come soon :)
Masterlist
"Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you"
It happened fast. It happened so fast that you didn’t know where the breaks were until it was too late. He was just… there. Always there. Standing in the hallway, walking on the sidewalk, shopping at the freaking grocery store. It was a kaleidoscope of instances with him from the bumping into and the lingering gazes to the knowing smiles. It was fast and… spreading.
It was spreading, yes.
He was spreading, from your heart to your brain. Every second of every dream was filled with the what ifs. What if you held his hand when he asked to walk with you to the store? What if he happened to fall asleep in your bed after you asked him for his help with something? What if, in the end, your marital hand was his to take instead? The scenarios played out time and time through the night, forcing you to wake up with a fluttering heart and a guilty conscience.
Your husband—the man you were actually involved with and supposed to be dedicated to—kindly made you coffee every morning, having no idea about your infidelity-filled dreamland. He could barely even remember Steve’s name while his entire being lived in your soul, day in and day out. It felt like a cruel punishment.
"Good morning," your husband greeted you as you padded into the living room. As expected, two mugs in hand, one outstretched towards your sleepy form. You hugged the coffee carefully, giving a smile back in greeting, but the action twisted your stomach. You couldn’t recall last night’s dream yet the feeling of it all lingered.
"I know today was supposed to be my day off but I gotta run to the office real quick," your husband explained as he sipped his coffee and collected his files. "You’ll be okay here, right?"
Your heart skipped. Nodding, you said, "Yeah, I think I’ll go to the coffee shop and catch up on reports."
"You have coffee right there, silly," your husband chuckled, motioning his mug towards yours. You looked down at the steaming, dark beverage. You could just make yourself out in the reflection, coming face-to-face with your tired eyes and frowning lips.
"Yeah," you shrugged. "I want one of those fancy blended drinks. They’re practically milkshakes."
Steve liked those drinks, you subconsciously noted, even though he pretended he didn’t. He was carrying one when you bumped into him on the street a few weeks after moving into the apartment building. When you asked what it was, he acted like he had no clue and claimed he was just holding it for a friend. You remember giggling at his frantic explanation but eventually, he confessed his deep, dark coffee secret. You were sworn to secrecy on the manner.
Maybe Steve would like to tag along with you today. The idea hit you like a train. You didn’t know where it came from. Well, you did but… Oh.
"Honey?" Your husband’s voice shook you out of your thoughts. "Are you okay?"
You coughed, "Yeah, I’m alright. Just a little sleepy."
"Hmm, okay," he nodded, still eyeing you suspiciously. "I’m gonna get ready and head out."
You nodded in acknowledgment as he gave you a quick peck and departed for your bedroom. Suddenly feeling sick, you dumped the mug’s contents in the sink and slammed the cup on the counter.
Running your hands through your hair, you stood in the kitchen. Mind screaming, heart-burning.
****
Your head was fuzzy as you got dressed for the day. You waited until your husband had left for the office as you had plans with your appearance. It came easily, you found, to put in a little effort. After getting married, both you and your husband found comfort in the natural and casual but now there was something shiny and new. There was maybe someone who appreciated you trying and it filled you with that schoolgirl anxiousness. It was wrong, though, so wildly wrong.
You could suppress it all, though. So easy, you thought. Nothing wrong with a married woman getting herself together to feel good. It was about you, of course. At least that was what you managed to convince your head to recite as you applied the lipgloss and curled your hair. It was partially true—you did like how you looked—but that background voice, that voice you heard in your dreamlands, reminded you of where your heart was.
Sighing, you forced yourself to step away from the mirror and collect your work. You actually did have plans to work on reports for your job but you wouldn’t mind a certain next-door soldier keeping you company.
You hadn’t exactly done this before, you realized as you stood at Steve’s apartment door. Your time spent with one another was always just…coincidental. At least, that’s what you perceived it as. You two happened to go to the grocery at the same time or walked up the stairs after work at similar hours. Fate was laying it out and you were stupidly taking the dive.
Swallowing your doubts, you knocked on the door.
For a few seconds, you thought about turning away and running. Purse gripped tightly, that felt like the only move, and just when your feet started inching towards the stairs, the door swung open.
He appeared in the doorway like a golden dream come true. Eyes bright and smile as big as the sky, Steve looked pleased to see who was on the other side of his door. He was fully dressed for the day. Shoes on and everything as if he was almost on his way out. You felt even more stupid now realizing of course the most important man in the city had somewhere to be.
"Good morning," Steve greeted you. "What a surprise."
"H-Hello," You let out a humorless laugh with your stupid response and looked down at your nail polished nails, picking away at the nude paint. Anxiety was bubbling up, forcing your words out straight to the point. "I was just… I don’t know. This is probably so stupid or whatever but I was gonna go to the coffee shop down the street to do some work. Do you want…some coffee?"
Gosh, your face must have been beet red as you felt the temperature in the hallway rise drastically. Steve, however, didn’t even flinch at your suggestion. He folded his arms and leaned against the door frame, his smile turning into a hinting smirk. He eyed your nervous stance carefully and you could feel it. Your feet started itching to flee, again.
Steve shrugged, "Are you asking me to come with you to the coffee shop?"
"Well, I mean-,"
"A coffee date, perhaps?"
You gasped, your heart plummeted. This wasn’t— You couldn’t— He was getting in your brain, putting thoughts there now. Everything felt so suggestive suddenly. You were insane for this. Your husband and the rings you still adored… What was becoming of you? No, what was becoming of him? It was his work, wasn’t it? But you were here? Brain on fire, you wanted to scream.
"Steve—,"
He chuckled, nearly completely unaware of the races in your mind. "I’m just joking. I think I would enjoy some coffee right now."
You gulped and reeled yourself back in. "Wonderful."
Steve was right by your side the entire walk. Your elbows brushed so casually yet flamingly. Your skin ignited with every step and God forbid if someone was coming up the sidewalk from the opposite direction. The way Steve pushed into you to make room felt like at any second he was going to pin you against one of the brick buildings lining the sidewalk.
There was the issue with his hand, too. His pockets were free to use yet he let his hands stay at his sides, brushing over yours ever so gingerly. Every time it did, his fingers hit your wedding band, operating as your not-so-subtle reminder.
It felt like a bad game. A bad, teasing game. The tension was rising and what originally started as light banter or silly laughs here and threatened to turn into stiff beats around the elephant in the room. But gosh, he was so kind and funny and just glowed throughout, so you would deal with it and let today go where it goes.
When you arrived at the coffee shop, Steve held the door open for you, motioning for you to enter. He gave a cheesy bow as if you were some kind of royal. You gave a silly curtsy in response which he lit up at.
See, you told yourself, go with the flow. There was still banter and fun with him.
At the cashier, Steve ordered for both of you and allowed himself to pay as well. While you tried to object, he was already done with the transaction and pushing you into the nearest booth. You frowned at his generosity but he chose to ignore your antics.
He went to retrieve your drinks as you set up your laptop and papers. Steve returned now with a faux frown on his lips as he noted your collection of items.
"So," he said, clearing his throat and sitting across from you. "I get to sit here while you do work?"
You shrugged, "I only asked if you wanted coffee. You invited yourself along."
Chuckling, he responded, "As if I would miss a chance for a day out with you."
Your heart plummeted for what felt like the umpteenth time today. Placing your pen down, you looked up at the smirking Steve. His eyes were staring you down, shamelessly roaming all over you. You could and couldn’t believe his boldness.
"Steve—,"
"Don’t you have work to do?" He pointed his cup at the papers. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. God, it was all starting to get confusing again. He knew where the line was, right? Why was he pushing it? Why were you even allowing it? Because it fed some fantasies? Aided with some brief passings of loneliness? There was just always something in his words to you. A twinkle or so behind those looks and smirks. You don’t even remember feeling this way on dates with your husband. Oh, your husband…
"What are we doing?" You sighed.
"Hmm?" Steve sipped his drink. "I’m drinking coffee and you are supposed to be working. I think that’s what we’re doing."
"You know what I fucking mean."
Steve’s eyes widened at your outburst. You never swore around anyone, not even in your own home, so to do it here and out… Well, there was a new tone approaching the table.
Silently, he moved your drinks out of the way and leaned his elbows on the table. Shifting probably as close as the table would allow, he looked you dead in the eyes and asked, "Why did you knock on my door?"
"I… Well, I’m—,"
Words were tumbling in your brain like crazy as if that was any sort of shock. You couldn’t keep yourself together today. You could feel him all over you yet again.
"You feel it," Steve whispered.
"Steve—,"
"It’s exciting and you like it,"
"Steve, really—,"
"I like it, too,"
God, make his words stop. You wanted to scream. Everything was burning on you. From the words in your ears to his eyes on your figure. You felt the roots from his glances digging deeper and deeper and any hope of hiding it was flying out the window.
You took a deep breath and raised your hands in defeat. "Please."
What? What were you even asking—begging—for? A release? Someone to take your words away? Steve to ask you to run away or keep this in a secret rush?
"You do," He whispered and there was nothing that could confirm it like your hesitant silence. "But your husband—,"
"He can’t know," you shot back. If he ever caught wind there was no telling what could happen. He was a soft soul on the surface but it takes one spark to start a fire and fires can burn down a home.
Steve sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Calm down, we haven’t even done anything."
"But the feelings," you whispered. It was your turn to leave him bewildered. "The feels and falling consume everything. Don’t you think that’s worse than something physical? It’s soul and bones deep."
"I mean that much to you?"
"You’re everywhere."
You could tell that hit him. Heck, the admission even took you by surprise—and it was your admission.
Everything suddenly felt so much dirtier than one-night stands. This man hadn’t even properly touched you and yet, at the same time, he had touched so much.
"You mean this?"
"I wish I didn’t."
Steve scoffed, playing with the rim of his coffee cup. "You don’t know what you’re doing."
Sighing, you closed your laptop and said to hell with these reports. Your day was flowing and you promised to go with it.
Throwing everything back together in your bag, you looked back at him. "But I do, Steve."
At his name falling off your lips, his eyes abruptly met yours. After a beat, his hand reached for yours and you felt the weighted pain slowly drift away. It was as peaceful and forbidden as you had expected. You didn’t think you wanted to be anywhere else.
"You’re everywhere for me, too." You could cry at those words but he continued. "Like ivy growing everywhere, darling. I go out on limbs to see you."
"Ivy," you repeated. "Just like ivy."
Steve gripped your hand tighter, "And, baby, I’m covered in you."
Your jaw dropped. Pulling your hand away, you mumbled, "He’ll burn us to the ground if he ever finds out."
Steve shrugged, a suggestive smirk working on his lips—a wild yet dreamy contrast to the man you saw a few seconds ago. "I’ve been known to keep a few secrets."
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mushrubes · 1 year
Text
Kiss her you fool
Tumblr media
Masterlist | marvel masterlist |
Requested : yes
Song : Kiss her you fool - Kids that fly
Pairing : Steve Rogers x (she/her) Stark! reader
Type : fluff
Warnings : Angst if you squint 
Word count : 1.4k
you’re so loved!! <3
——————————
“Stop making up your excuses!” Bucky groaned, looking over at his childhood best friend. Sam laughed knowingly, taking another sip of his protein shake as they all sat on the bench from training. Steve wiped his sweat away with the towel, shaking his head at the two. He denied the accusations that he had feelings for his friend but these two had spent years with him now - they knew him inside out, aware of when he was lying. “Call her up, tell her you forgot something.” Sam suggested, Steve furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. He sat down, sipping his drink. “Why?” he huffed, not aware of their ideas. The two stared him, knowing he rarely spoke to them and when he did, almost made a fool of himself. “Okay, okay.” he surrendered, picking up his phone. 
-----
“Nat, stop it!” Y/n groaned, Natasha sat opposite and laughing as she watched her blush, her phone buzzing and Y/n picking it up straight away. “Is it him?” Natasha teased, Y/n ignoring her as she read the notification that appeared on her phone.
Missed call from Steve (1)
“Nat, be quiet for a second.” she ordered, hushing her best friend as she raised an eyebrow. Y/n called him back, the phone ringing a few times before he finally picked up. “Steve! What’s up?” she asked, holding up a middle finger to Nat as she wiggled her eyebrows at her. “Y/n, hey, uh...I think I left something at yours when we all hung out, do you mind me coming to find it?” he asked, Y/n confused as she didn’t remember anything being left. “Oh! Uh...of course!” she assured, Steve sighing on the other end and some whispers being heard that she couldn’t figure out before she heard a slap.
 “...Steve?” Y/n asked, holding in a laugh as she heard Bucky’s voice in the background. “Yeah? Oh, sorry! Just uh Bucky and Sam being annoying as usual.” he laughed awkwardly, scratching his neck. “I’ll come by later if that’s okay?” he asked, Y/n humming in agreement. “Yeah, that’s good! I’ll see you later then Steve.” she grinned. “See you later, Y/n/n.” he bid goodbye, hanging up.
------
Steve knocked on the door, it almost opening instantly. “Hey.” Y/n greeted, Steve smiling softly at her. “Oh, uh, come in.” she gestured, stepping to the side as he entered, closing the door behind him. He walked into the living room, Y/n gasping. “Hang on a second, I’ll go get your jacket - I found it earlier.” she smiled, Steve nodding and feeling relieved that he genuinely did forget something. While he waited, Sam and Bucky’s words repeated in his head, reminding him. “It's worth more than you are thinking, Steve! Don't be a fool, tell her you think she's cool!” Sam exclaimed. 
“Capsicle, nice to see you here.” Tony grinned, taking a drink of his mug. “Tony.” he responded, nodding his head at him, ignoring the knowing smirk he gave him. Luckily, he saved by Y/n walking back over, glaring at her brother. “What did you say?” she huffed, raising an eyebrow at her brother. He put his hands up in defence shaking his head. “Nothing, nothing.” Tony defended, winking at them as Y/n rolled her eyes at him and dragged Steve out of the room. “I’m sorry about him.” she sighed, handing the jacket to him. He chuckled and shook his head. “No, no, don’t worry.” he assured, pausing for a second. “I was uh wondering if...” he paused, a lump in his throat as he tried to get the words out. Y/n pressed a hand to his arm, squeezing it. 
“It’s just me Steve, no need to be so tense.” she smiled, he nodded. He cleared his throat before trying again. “Do you want to come out with me tomorrow? There’s an ice rink in the city and I was thinking we could go?” he asked, remembering the plan. He froze as they didn’t respond instantly, feeling like a fool. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it awkward and you’re just really cool-” he rambled as they laughed, cutting him off as he tilted his head. “Of course, Steve.” they assured, mirroring the smile that was on his face as they walked to the front door. “Pick me up at two?” she asked, Steve nodding. “Sounds good.” he assured, standing outside. She leant up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he reddened, silently thanking the cold weather as he walked away from the door. “Hey, Steve?” they called, making him turn around and looking at her. 
“For the record, I think you’re pretty cool too.”
----
“Stop waiting for a fairy tale to take you away, don't wait for someday.” Bucky lectured, Steve sighing at his friend’s words. “You waited last time and look what happened. Don’t let it happen again.” he comforted, patting his shoulder before heading out of the kitchen. He heard murmurs in the hallway, sitting back down and eating his food. “Hey.” Natasha greeted, walking in behind him. He nodded at her, taking another bite of his food. “You know, she’s thinking the same thing as you.” she exposed, Steve looking at her in confusion as to how she would know. “I’m her best friend, I know everything about her and besides - it’s not hard when you both constantly ogle at each other.” she teased, laughing at his darkening face.
“Why haven’t you told her?” she pestered, Steve sighing as he placed his empty bowl into the dish washer. “Nat, as much as I trust you, it’s not worth me possibly ruining my friendship with her.” he sighed, the red head sighing at her friend, seeing the pair were both as bad as each other. “Don't be afraid, dreams aren't found they're made.” she said, grinning as he rolled his eyes at her cheesy words. “I have an idea, Steve.” she spoke up, catching his attention. “Tony’s throwing one of his Christmas parties, pull her aside and then confess.” she shrugged, Steve chuckling at the simplicity of her tone. “I’ll try.” he gave in, Nat happy with the answer.
----
"You’ve only got one chance.” Sam taunted, looking at his best friend who he’d walked in with. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” Steve ignored, waving his hand at him while he looked around, searching for her. “They’re over there, most likely.” Bucky grinned, pointing at Nat who was stood in a group, shaking her arm and Y/n now waving at Steve. His face lit up, waving back and making his way over. “Hi.” she giggled, looking up at the soldier who towered over her. “Hello, y/n/n.” he responded softly, taking her hand and twirling her as her dress skirt spun. “You look amazing- not that you don’t every day of course-” he rambled, cut off by her loud laughter. “It’s okay, Steve. You look pretty good tonight too.” she returned, Steve scratching his neck and both their cheeks heating up and taking sips from their drinks. They had accidentally matched, both wearing a subtle navy blue (most likely Natasha’s and Bucky’s work).
He finished his, placing it down on the bar next to them while she finished hers, standing up and holding his hand out to her. “Care to dance, m’lady?” he joked, Y/n taking his hand and standing up. “Of course, sir.” she carried on, Steve leading her to the dance floor. “Is this okay?” he asked as he placed is hands on her waist. “It’s more than okay, Steve.” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing her head on his chest while he put his on top, swaying as the slow song finished, a more upbeat one coming on that he recognised. He looked over at Bucky, referring to the music as he nodded and playfully rolled his eyes. “That’s not important! Kiss her, you fool!” he mouthed back, Steve nodding and cheeks reddening yet again. 
He pulled away, grabbing her hand and twirling her, making her gasp before sending her into a fit of laughter. “S-Steve! Warn me...next time.” she got out in between her laughs, Steve grinning at her. “What was that? Do it again?” he grinned mischievously, Y/n’s face widening as they heard what he said over the music. “Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you dare!” they warned, more laughter escaping as he twirled her, this time dipping her down at the end. “Steve.” she mumbled, Steve raising an eyebrow. “Kiss me.” she said, the soldier smirking before leaning down, connecting their lips together and missing the $20 Tony handed to Bucky. 
“It’s about damn time.”
101 notes · View notes
mlmxreader · 7 days
Text
Penthouse Holiday | Sam Wilson x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ “Wow, great view. I bet you can see all the way to the ocean from out here.” With Sam Wilson please? ❞
: ̗̀➛ Even Captain America himself deserves some time off.
: ̗̀➛ swearing
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
It was rare that Sam ever got the time off to actually be your boyfriend, between his work as Captain America and his volunteer work on top of that, he rarely had the time to sit down and be your boyfriend; although you never held it against him, as you knew fully well that he was doing the best he could and that he was actually looking out for people as much as he could.
You loved Sam, and you never expected him to do anything except be himself; as long as he came home to you, you didn't care when or what time that was. As long as he came home.
But Sam had other ideas, as when he approached Marc about taking over for a little while, the infamous Moon Knight was on-board with the idea once Sam explained why.
Just a holiday for a couple of weeks, in a large penthouse in a rural hotel, far from prying eyes and somewhere that nobody knew him. The biggest downside of Captain America was the paparazzi; everybody knew about you and Sam, and it was difficult getting any private time in New York, so he purposefully picked somewhere that nobody would know.
It was on the coast, blessed with warm weather and a sweet gentle breeze, with a large balcony and an even bigger bed; it took some convincing, but after he reassured you that everything was sorted, you agreed.
The second you stepped into the penthouse and put your bags down, though, you grinned and put your arms around Sam's neck.
"It's beautiful," you breathed out, holding his gaze as you laid your hand at the back of his neck.
Sam gently turned you around, pointing to the balcony. "Go check it out."
You nodded, heading over and pressing yourself against the cool, stone railing as you licked your lips. "Wow, great view. I bet you can see all the way to the ocean from out here."
Sam came up behind you, pressing his body against yours and pressing his lips to the back of your shoulder. "I knew you'd like it. You always told me you wanted to see the ocean."
You excitedly pointed over to the port, a soft gasp leaving your lips. "Do they do orca viewing here?!"
He nodded slowly, trying not to laugh at how excited you were. "I checked before we came - orcas at two every afternoon, seals at four, and great whites at eight every morning."
"You really thought of everything," you murmured, turning around sonyou could gently kiss him. "I love you."
Sam planted his hands on the railing either side of you, smiling brightly. "I take it you like it?"
You nodded. "How did you manage to afford this?"
He shrugged, swallowing thickly. He wasn't really sure if he was supposed to tell you that a friend of a friend owed him a favour, and he decided to cash it in in the form of a penthouse rental for a couple of weeks.
Not that Professor Xavier minded much, all too happy to repay the favour.
"Somebody owed me a favour," he murmured. "One of your friends."
You shook your head, wanting to roll your eyes fondly, but seeing hardly any point in it as you felt the soft breeze fan against the back of your neck. "Y'know what? I don't care. It's beautiful, you're beautiful, I wanna go see the orcas."
Sam laughed softly as he grinned brightly; he knew that seeing the orcas would be a big selling point for you, and he was glad that it worked out.
You kept telling him about how much you wanted to see them in the wild, to actually be up and close and observe their behaviour - it even convinced him to want to it, too.
"We've got..." he checked his watch. "Four hours, and then we can go board the boat. But first, do you wanna get room service? I was thinking maybe strawberries and champagne."
"Wouldn't that cost megabucks, though?" You asked, furrowing your brows.
Sam shrugged, daring to move so that his lips were right against your ear. "We're not paying, baby. It's all inclusive - we can eat and drink whatever we want, we can get whatever room service we want. We're not paying."
You let your hands wander down his chest, settling just above his stomach. "You sure know how to please somebody, don't you?"
He laughed softly. "I know how to please you. So, food, orcas and then how about we go and relax on the beach for a few hours?"
"Oh, Sammy," you whispered. "I know I keep saying it, but I really do love you and I cannot fucking believe you did all this just for me."
"Damn right," he beamed. "I wanna make up for as much lost time as I can, and with your permission, give you the best holiday you've ever known, baby."
You hoisted yourself onto the railing, thankful that it was wide enough to sit comfortably on as you pulled him between your legs. "You have my permission all the fucking time, Cap."
"Fuck's sake," Sam laughed, rolling his eyes fondly. "I'm not Cap here. Just Sam. Your Sam."
"My Sam," you whispered, laying your arms on his shoulders. "My brilliant, funny, amazing, intelligent, sweet, compassionate Sam."
"Keep complimenting me, I love it," he chuckled, and when you gently smacked the back of his head, he burst out laughing. "What? Can't a guy love being complimented?"
"You're such a dick," you laughed, shaking your head. "I love you. I love that you're the best Captain America the world could ever ask for, and I love that you're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. I love you."
"I love you, too," he told you sincerely, his voice quiet and rumbling. "But I am starving."
"Alright, alright!" You stole a few soft kisses. "Strawberries, champagne and... y'know, we haven't had any curry for a while."
"I'll go order it," Sam whispered, stealing a quick kiss. "You just wait here and keep looking like the best thing in the world."
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chaotictasha · 2 years
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Incorrect quotes#92
y/n: what am I supposed to do?.. Apologise?
Steve: that's EXACTLY what i want YOU to DO.
y/n: over my RICH..HOT DEAD BODY...
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writing-for-marvel · 1 year
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Every Step of the Way
Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Summary: After struggling through the entire week, Steve’s there to comfort you when you need him the most.
Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: severe depression is depicted, Steve and reader being naked in a shower together but nothing sexual, major hurt comfort vibes
Word count: 1.8k
A/N: this is 1000% self indulgent, I wrote this when I was in a really dark place, struggling to even just get out of bed every day and I needed Stevie there to comfort me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library
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Opening your eyes seems like an effort too great for the amount of energy in your reserves.
Every breath is a heave, as if trying to gasp for air with an anvil sitting on your chest.
The backs of your eyes sting with tears at the thought of needing to get out of bed. You don’t want to face the day, don’t want to be the early bird catching the worm. You want to stay under the covers and sleep, that’s all you have the motivation to do.
Dirty dishes are stacked next to your sink, they’ve been accumulating since early in the week and you’ve just not had the energy after working and making dinner each night to actually wash them yet.
Clothes litter the floor of your bedroom, but you’ve put off going down to the laundry room for the past few days, with each new sunrise promising it’ll be tomorrow you’ll find time to do it, but that tomorrow never comes.
The bathrooms need cleaning, the floor needs vacuuming, surfaces need dusting - you put off doing them last weekend to focus on other household chores, but this weekend has come around and you’re not any more inspired to complete them.
You hear keys rattle in your front door, the sound startling you enough to finally open your eyes, but not sufficiently concerning to warrant leaving your bed. The only person who owned keys to your place was your boyfriend and though you didn’t want him to see the mess you were living in, there wasn’t anything you could do in the two seconds it would take for him to open your door.
As if instinctually he knows you’re still snuggled up in bed, you hear his heavy footsteps striding steadily towards your door.
Bracing for the furious displeasure you have been conditioned to receive from ex partners when they discovered you in a relapse, you pull the covers tighter around yourself as if to shield you from what was about to happen.
“Stevie…” Your voice is soft, vulnerable as he enters the room, but it’s not pity nor annoyance you see in his eyes, which you had been expecting, but instead they are brimming with concern.
“Hey darling.” His honey voice is slow and smooth, soothing the jittery anxiety ricocheting through your mind and chest. “Not feeling too good?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head anyway, clutching the duvet closer to your chin. Steve pulls his shirt over his head, rounds the bed and climbs in next to you.
“C’mere.” His strong arms envelop you and pull you into his strong chest, the weight of them on your back and his musky scent, which now consumes your senses, is the secure reassurance you’ve been needing all week that you’re not completely alone in this brutal world.
He doesn’t ask what’s the matter with you, doesn’t ask why you’ve barely answered his messages all week, why your home is a complete mess or why you’re laying in the dark at noon on a weekend. He doesn’t make you justify your change in behaviour, why you kept him at arm's length, doesn’t scold you for your absence as other people have done in the past. Instead, he kisses your forehead, whispers that you’re safe with him as he gently rubs his hand up and down your back.
He could have easily chastised you for withdrawing into yourself and not seeking help, could have pointed out the state your home was in, or mentioned that you smelled in need of a shower, but he does none of that. Rather, he tells you over and over again that you’re loved, ingraining the notion in your mind so that you won’t ever forget, placing kisses over every inch of your face he can reach while still holding your body close.
The sound of his beating heart lulls you to a peaceful sleep, feeling safe and treasured, and for the first time this week like you don’t have to carry the weight of expectation and hollow desolation all on your own.
* * *
When you wake, the warmth provided by your sturdy boyfriend is missing. Distress fills your chest for a moment, thinking perhaps Steve coming to soothe you to sleep was a figment of your imagination, until you hear the faint sound of movement from the main living area.
With an effort you believe rivals running an entire marathon, you push the sheets off yourself, heave yourself out of bed and trudge into your kitchen, but not before noticing that the clothes that were strewn over your bedroom floor this morning were no longer there.
Once your eyes adjust to the light you notice Steve hunched over your sink, elbows deep in soapy water doing your dishes. Part of you is thankful, you’ve been needing to do them all week and just hadn’t found the energy or motivation. But another part of you, deep in your chest, feels ashamed - you have to rely on your boyfriend, who has a hectic enough life of his own, to do something as simple as washing your dishes. How pathetic.
“Steve, I can do them.” You declare, lumbering over to the counter, feeling somewhat relieved to see there’s only half the number of dirty pots and pans as was there when you left them last night.
“It’s okay darling, I’ve already got my hands wet…”
“I don’t want you doing my dishes for me, Steven.” You don’t know why those particular words leave your mouth, because seeing the dishes you had failed to clean the last few days finally have the grime scrubbed off them alleviates some of the hefty gravity pushing you chest so tight you almost can’t breathe. But it also makes you feel incapable, worthless and weak.
You’re not sure what quality it is in your voice that indicates it, but Steve immediately removes his hands from the bubbly water, dries them quickly on the back of his pants and pulls you into his chest just as tears you didn’t realise were coming start silently streaming down your cheeks.
“Shhh, it’s okay, deep breaths for me baby.” His large hands rub soothing circles around your back as your tears dampen his shirt. You try your best to follow his instruction, slowly take deep breaths and calm the flow of untameable misery pouring out the corners of your eyes, but your throat starts constricting and each new tear running down your cheeks evokes two more.
You just want it to end. You want to be able to function like a regular human being without exhausting all of your energy reserves by simply getting out of bed.
You just want to be normal. Be someone Steve can be proud to call his girl. Not someone who struggles to do the simplest of tasks.
When Steve senses that your flood of emotions isn’t subsiding, he shuffles with you in his arms towards your bathroom, whispering that the warm water of your shower will help refresh you.
He helps lift you onto your bathroom countertop, kissing away the stray tears on your cheeks before turning on the shower. While he tests the temperature of the water with one hand, his other maintains hold on yours - even just the connection to him helps in your attempts to calm yourself down. He’s here for you, and he isn’t going anywhere.
When the temperature is just how you like it, Steve helps you strip off your clothes and directs you under the stream. You let the water wash over your face, taking some of your worries with them, as Steve steps in behind you.
You can’t tell the difference between your own teardrops and drizzle of the shower as you look up at your boyfriend, grateful for the care and tenderness he’s shown you while you’re at your lowest. No one else has stuck around when they’ve seen you like this, but in this moment you feel nothing but pure love.
You place a gentle kiss to a scar on his bare chest and Steve kisses your forehead in return - a silent message to thank him for being there for you, and him to acknowledge that though you’re unable to voice your gratitude at the present moment, he understands it’s there.
Once Steve washes your hair, knowing the steps of your routine perfectly, and the rest of your body, you step out of the shower feeling like the load you’ve been carrying for the past few weeks has been washed off your back.
Steve smiles as he pulls his own shirt over your head, kissing your nose once your head pops through the hole. Now your tears have settled, you can appreciate the affection overflowing in his baby blues, fondness you don’t believe you deserve, but cherish nonetheless.
Forgetting all about the dirty dishes in the cold, soapy sink, Steve directs you back to your bedroom, climbing in after you and pulling you once again into his strapping chest.
“Darling, you don’t have to carry this burden alone. I’m here for you, and I love you, you don’t ever have to face this by yourself again.” Steve speaks softly into your hairline, the intent and conviction in his voice enough to drive you to tears again.
“But it’s not like I have that much on my plate, I should be able to do simple things like housework. I just… I just can’t. I can’t explain it, my brain just doesn’t allow me to.”
Steve pulls away from you slightly so he has an angle to look at you directly in the eye. It looks like it physically pains him to see you struggling so much.
“My love, you are the strongest person I have ever met. I am so proud of you everyday that you are here with me, that you keep battling your own mind. You’re my fighter, my best girl, and I’m here to help you through this difficult patch. For better or worse. In sickness and in health, I love you.” He punctuates his declaration with a sweet kiss, reinforcing his words.
“We’re not married Stevie.” You point out, but he simply smirks at you.
“Not yet.”
Before Steve Rogers you believed love was tumultuous and torture, that it was meant to tear you in half, because you cared about the other person so ardently it left you bloodied and bruised. But Steve proved to you that wasn’t love - love isn’t supposed to feel like you’re going to war, instead it’s comfort, it’s a reassuring embrace of someone who has seen your battle scars and tells you it’s time to rest.
Love is solace.
And Steve Rogers is certainly your solace.
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Little Tired Eye
[Steve Rogers x gn!reader
Warning: Bittersweet ending, fluff, angst, one swear word at the end.
Summary: Steve is your comfort person. You know that will never change.]
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The heavy sound of the torrent above you mixes with the urgent Clop! Clop! Clop! of your boots carrying you home as fast as you could manage. You don't have an umbrella, only a jacket that you're holding above you to ward off at least some of the fierce patter of the rain. As if your day hasn't been terrible enough.
You almost cry in relief when you see your apartment building nearing. You couldn't care less about the drops you send flying everywhere as you dash up the staircase, fumbling along the way to retrieve your keys from the depths of your pocket.
The huge noise inside and outside your head comes to a sudden stop the moment you shut the door behind you, sending you into a daze for a few seconds. As you toe off said boots, you notice the light in the kitchen. Next thing you register is a low and deep voice humming a tune. You smile, despite everything you just braved throughout the day. You know who it is, and instead of heading to your bedroom, you make your way to the kitchen.
Sure enough, your blonde lover is at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. Headphones in his ears.
You listen as he quietly croons along to Sweet Nothing, a soft smile on his lips as the music surrounds him. You almost don't want to interrupt his moment of bliss. You know that song touches him deeper than any other track on the whole album. You've sleepily joined him a few times as he's lulled you to sleep with it. He's admittedly not the most talented singer in the world, but his singing is the most melodious sound you have ever heard. You wouldn't trade it for anything.
Soon though, he looks up to find you leaning against the doorway. The smile grows wider as he pauses the song and comes to you to wrap you in his arms. Nevermind that you're soaked to the bone.
"Hey sweetheart."
You bury your face further into his chest, choosing to let his warmth heal your battered soul. He gets the hint, rubbing circles into your back.
Five seconds pass.
Fifteen.
Thirty.
You start crying noiselessly. It's been a really long day and it's weighed on you heavily. But you're not crying from the pressure.
🎶Outside they're push and shoving, you're in the kitchen humming.🎶
You're crying because you've come home. To his sweet nothings.
He cradles you close to his heart, even as you clean up and get ready for bed. He holds you tightly, your favourite sound in the world ringing in your ears as you drift off into sleep.
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You feel much more refreshed when you wake up. Of course he isn't next to you when you look to your side. It's not a big deal. He'll be back when you need him. You smile at memories of the previous night. You'll never stop marvelling at how his kindness is still intact after all he went through.
Today's a big day. Anticipation ripples through your friend circle in an undercurrent. All you can think about is the movie you're going to watch later in the evening. It's a huge thing for the franchise and its fandom, the biggest event of the decade. It's the culmination of eleven years of movies...and you're not sure what exactly you're going to do after this film's over.
You've had a major spoiler from one of your loose-lipped friends who saw it on opening night, but you're holding hope that he was joking even though you knew perfectly well he wasn't.
You cry when your favourite characters die. You cry when the spoiler moment arrives. Your friend had given you half the story. You saw the rest coming.
You refuse to speak a word after that. You're as silent as a grave in the restaurant, even though it's your favourite cuisine. Everyone else is either quietly sobbing or talking about the hilarious jokes that had been thrown in here and there. Whichever happens to be their coping mechanism. You stopped crying the moment you were outside the theatre. Knowing better than to bother you, they leave you alone, only making sure from time to time that you eat a substantial amount.
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You trudge your way up the stairs again, feeling hollow inside. Get over it, it's a movie. None of it is real. None of it is real. Stop weeping over fictional characters, you tell yourself repeatedly. Your rational pep talk works well...until you're inside your safe haven, away from the rest of the world.
Because the moment you do...
"Hey sweetheart."
You should be angry. You should tell him how heartbroken you are. You should let him know how out of line he was.
But...
But he's here. He's here, radiant, smiling, warm. And yours. How do you even begin to be mad at him?
You crumble like a sandcastle.
"How was the film?" he asks brightly.
"You left." you fight back a sniffle.
"I left?" He's confused. Obviously. Your sweet angel Steve doesn't know any better. Can't know any better.
"You went back in time to be with her. You left everyone alone to live out a life in the past. A life where you didn't belong anymore." You whisper. You can't yell at him when he's holding you like that. Looking at you like that. Like you're his entire world.
"Oh darling..." he presses your head to his chest against, stroking your hair and kissing your temple. "Darling, that's ridiculous. That's nuts. I don't know why they'd even think of that. Look here," he pulls back slightly and tilts your chin up to meet his loving baby blues. "I'm right here." He strokes your cheek.
"Right." A peck to your lips.
"Here." Another.
"With." Kiss.
"You." Kiss.
"Always." One final kiss to seal the promise.
Your bottom lip wobbles. You don't know what you'd do without this man in your life. You can't afford to let him go.
"Y/N, you know everyone has to go sometime, right?" he's making every effort to make this as gentle for you as possible.
Dammit, was that my outside voice?
"Don't," you croak out.
The feeling of his arms around you is fading, too quickly for your liking. Your nose can't trace his scent anymore.
"I love you, Steve." You whimper.
He looks torn. "Darling, I'm not even rea-"
You close your eyes, blocking out whatever he's trying to say. You shake your head softly, focusing on him in your mind's little tired eye.
His voice fades. The warmth surrounding you is gone. All your senses are left numb.
You take a deep breath.
🎶They said the end is coming, everyone's up to something.
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.🎶
Go fuck yourself, Endgame.
Your eyelids part open, just a sliver at first, then all the way.
His image fizzles for a moment before reappearing - brighter, clearer. The familiar smell of coffee, cologne and a hint of fabric conditioner is back in the air between you two. You're pulled closer to a firm, broad chest.
He smiles, and the room brightens, along with your spirits.
"I love you too, sweetheart."
[Yeah, I don't know where this came from. I had to let this out I guess. Sweet Nothing always reminds me of Steve. I thought setting reader in our real world would be a cool idea.
This is basically also me before and after Endgame.
Do reblog and/or leave some feedback if you appreciate it.]
Divider by: @firefly-graphics
@slut-for-chrisevans @peace-love-fanfiction @nana1000night @royalwriteroftheuniverse @hawkeyes-queen @imyourbratzdoll @jamneuromain @nekoannie-chan @sarahrogersevans @jesevans @heli0s-writes @steverogerssimpp @almosttoopizza
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heliads · 2 years
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I Wish You Could Be Honest Masterlist
HYDRA didn’t die out when it failed to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. during the time of the Winter Soldier. Now, top enemy agent Y/N L/N has been sent to finish the job by killing Steve Rogers. When she’s captured by S.H.I.E.L.D., she doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly doesn’t involve Captain America himself trying to win her over.
masterlist
Completed Series
Chapter One: We All Make Mistakes
Chapter Two: How Much Do You Know?
Chapter Three: Pass the Test
Chapter Four: To The Uninitiated
Chapter Five: I'd Bare My Heart
Chapter Six: Leaving is Only for the Faint of Heart
Chapter Seven: Homecoming
Chapter Eight: The Turning of the Tables
Chapter Nine: In My Sights
Chapter Ten: To Be Yourself Someday
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nicoline1998enilocin · 7 months
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Popping the question
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Pairing | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes
Word count | 4.4K
Summary | Steve plans to propose to Bucky, but the closer he gets to popping the question, the more nervous he gets. When the time finally arrives, Steve finds out he has nothing to be worried about because it has been Bucky's dream to marry Steve for as long as he can remember, and he can't wait until that day arrives.
Prompt(s) | I1: ''I don't know if I'm worth all this'' | @stuckybingo
Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Established relationship (boyfriends), D/S dynamics (not 24/7, Soft Dom!Steve, Sub!Bucky), smut (top Steve, bottom Bucky, dirty talk, daddy kink, oral (both receiving), semi-public sex, anal sex, rimming, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), implied aftercare).
A/n | This fic is part of Stucky Bingo Round 5! I want to thank @jamesbuckybarnes1917 and @avengersfantasies for proofreading this one; I’m eternally grateful to you both! 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚
Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | Header & 18+ banner are made by yours truly
Main Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist | Bingo Masterlist
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Bucky is away on a solo mission, which is the perfect time for Steve to ask Nat for help with a plan he's worked on for a few weeks.
''Nat? Can we talk in my office?'' he asks, and his heart starts beating faster, knowing he will admit his plan to someone. Now that he will say it out loud, it's suddenly becoming real, making him nervous.
''Yeah, coming!'' she says as she gets out of the chair she's sitting in, groaning due to her aching muscles from the last mission.
Steve had already gone to his office and kept pacing back and forth, not knowing what to do with the nerves building inside him.
''What's up, buttercup?'' Nat says, walking into his office. Worry immediately takes over as she sees him pacing like that, and the first thing she thinks is that Bucky might be hurt.
''Did something happen with Bucky?'' she asks straight out, and that's when Steve stops in his tracks, and he looks up at Nat with a very worried expression.
''God, I hope not. That's not what I wanted to talk about either,'' he says as he stands behind his desk, leaning on his hands and looking up at Nat through his eyelashes, thinking about the best way to tell her.
''What's going on, then? I assume you didn't call me in here to stare at me like that; I already get enough of that from Bucky,'' Nat jokes, and Steve calms down a little at her words, his shoulders becoming less tense.
''I need your help with something. And it would be best if you didn't tell a single soul what I'm about to tell you, but especially not Bucky,'' he emphasizes.
His cheeks turn red as he prepares to tell her his plans, but she gets impatient.
''Steve, tell me what's going on or-''
''I'm gonna propose to Bucky, and I need your help to prepare it,'' Steve tells her, not looking at her as he doesn't want to see her face when she makes fun of him. But she doesn't make fun of him; instead, she grins like a child getting a treat.
''Are you serious? That's amazing! Of course, I'm going to help you with that. You could have just asked me that without all the secrecy,'' she says, and Steve lets out a deep sigh he didn't even know he was holding in to begin with.
''Oh, thank god,'' he sighs as he falls back in his chair, the smile on his face giving away his relief at the situation. He's been worried all this time for nothing, but he knows this isn't all of it yet. He still has to ask Bucky.
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A few days later, the pair is on their way to a jewelry store to pick out the perfect ring because Steve has zero knowledge of jewelry, so Nat kindly offers to go with him.
''Good afternoon; what can I help you two with?'' the lady behind the register asks, and with one look at her name tag, Steve sees her name is Grace. It suits her, he thinks to himself.
''I'm here to pick out an engagement ring; I'm planning on proposing to my boyfriend soon,'' he tells her, and her eyes shoot to Nat for a second, thinking the ring would be for her.
''I know, I wish he would propose to me too, but unfortunately, he's already off the market,'' Nat jokes and the lady smiles politely while she shows them to the section with men's rings.
''Well, is there anything specific you are looking for?'' she asks, and Steve looks over all the rings, and as beautiful as they are, none immediately stand out to him.
''What about this one?'' Nat says, and Steve walks over to her as she points to a black and gold band, which would match beautifully with Bucky's Vibranium arm.
''Can I see that one?'' Steve asks the lady, and as she opens the drawer, his heart starts beating out of his chest. Nat places her hand on his arm to calm him down, and he looks at her.
''Don't worry, he's gonna love whichever you choose,'' she assures him, and he knows Nat's right, but it's still an extensive choice, and he sure as hell doesn't want to make the wrong one.
''You're right, but it's not like I'm buying a box of cereal at the store or something, so I want it to be perfect,'' he sighs as he hands it back to the woman.
''Do you have any other black and gold engagement rings? Money isn't an issue, but I need it to be the right one,'' Steve says, and Grace nods, putting it back in the display case before walking over to the next one.
Steve follows closely behind, and his sight lands on a black and gold marbled ring, which catches his attention immediately.
''How about that one?'' he says, and she opens the drawer again, the rings sliding to her side of the counter before picking it up and showing it to Steve.
Nat softly gasps as she sees it, and she's thinking the same thing as Steve. This is the one.
After everything had been discussed and paid for, Grace put it in a black velvet box, giving it a luxurious look. Steve is practically skipping out of the store because part one of his plan is complete.
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The box has been sitting in Steve's nightstand drawer for a few days now, and it's almost as if he thinks it will burn a hole in there. He's constantly on edge and nowhere near his proposal yet.
It's a good thing Bucky will come home today because Steve feels like he will jump out of his skin if he doesn't soon. He needs to have his boyfriend back and take out his sexual frustrations on him as well.
Since Bucky's been away for almost a month, it's been hard on both of them, and the second Bucky walked into the door, they were all over each other.
Clothes were left in a trail on the floor, and the two soldiers had made their way into the shower, their favorite activity to do together after coming home from a mission. This one was not meant to get each other clean, however.
Steve holds on tight to Bucky's hair as he thrusts his hips forward steadily, fucking the other man's throat so deep he's constantly gagging around his girth.
Bucky's fingers are squeezing tightly as he holds on to Steve's thighs, but he can never get enough of feeling his boyfriend filling up his mouth and throat so perfectly.
Steve looks down and lets out a deep groan when he nears his orgasm, his head falling back as Bucky hollows his cheeks, pulling back until he's just suckling on Steve's tip.
''Need you to cum in my mouth, Daddy,'' Bucky says before taking him in his mouth again, hollowing his cheeks and licking the underside of his cock, sending shivers down Steve's spine as his orgasm washes over him.
''F-fuck, gonna cum in that mouth of yours, feel so fucking good when you suck Daddy off like that,'' he grunts, and with a few more shallow thrusts, he cums, and Bucky swallows every last drop.
When Steve's done, Bucky stands back up and kisses Steve fiercely, letting his boyfriend taste himself on his tongue. He moans into Bucky's mouth while he wraps one of his hands around Bucky's rock-hard dick.
''I will make you feel good, Kitten. Don't you worry about a single thing,'' Steve whispers in Bucky's ear before sinking to his knees.
He looks up at Bucky with a hint of innocence in his eyes, but that doesn't last long as he leans down and takes his balls in his mouth, making the super soldier moan loudly.
''Holy fuck, keep doing that, feels so good, Daddy,'' he whines as he tries to get hold of something. Finally, his metal hand finds Steve's hair, and he can't help but tug on it a little bit when the pleasure almost becomes too much.
Steve's hand strokes Bucky's dick leisurely, just enough to keep him on edge and want more but insufficient to give him the pleasure he's seeking.
He tries to thrust his hips, but Steve immediately pulls off and moves his hand, leaving Bucky pouting and whining at losing his boyfriend's hand and mouth, which he needs the most.
''You have to learn to be patient, Kitten. I'll give you everything you want as long as you're patient. If you don't listen, I won't let you cum for a week,'' Steve says sternly, and Bucky nods.
''Words, Kitten,'' Steve orders, and Bucky immediately complies.
''Sorry, Daddy, I'll be a good Kitten for you,'' he says in a soft voice, and as a reward, Steve wraps his hand around Bucky's cock again, and he lets out an appreciative noise at the feeling of Steve's hand again.
This time Bucky does listen and gets rewarded with Steve sucking him off so good he sees stars as he cums, shooting his warm ropes of cum into Steve's mouth, who swallows every last drop.
''Such a good boy for me, Kitten. You did perfect for me, and now we'll shower together and let you relax after your mission, okay?'' Steve asks, and Bucky nods, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist.
''Love you so much, Daddy,'' Bucky whispers in Steve's neck, giving the other super soldier goosebumps in the spot where his warm breath hit his neck.
''I love you too, Kitten, don't ever forget that,'' Steve tells him, and his mind wanders to the box in his nightstand drawer again. Suddenly, he can't wait to pop the question.
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That evening, Bucky and Steve are enjoying a simple evening together. They order take-out and eat it together as they talk about Bucky's mission, and now they're sitting on the couch together.
Bucky is sitting with his back against the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, with his feet resting on the coffee table. Steve has his laptop on his lap, his feet resting on Bucky's legs, and Bucky is rubbing his shin slowly.
Steve breaks the silence with a question Bucky didn't expect to hear him say honestly.
''Is there a vacation spot you've always wanted to visit? I need to take some vacation days since Tony constantly bugs me about taking more time off. Thought we'd go away somewhere for a week if you're up for it,'' he asks, and Bucky looks at Steve with a puzzled look.
''I don't know, I've never really thought about it...'' Bucky says, but it gets him to think, so Steve keeps looking at more romantic ways to propose while Bucky thinks about vacation destinations.
Bucky goes back to his book, but when he still hasn't flipped a page after 10 minutes of staring at it, Steve notices that he's deep in thought, so he nudges his boyfriend's leg with his foot.
''A penny for your thoughts?'' he says, and Bucky looks at him with a smile.
''I'm thinking about where I want to go with you; at some point, I want to visit the entire world with you by my side, of course, but it's hard to think of a place where I would want to go first since it's all so amazing,'' he says while thinking about possible places to visit.
''I leave it up to you; you name it, and we'll go there,'' Steve says reassuringly, and Bucky nods, grabbing his phone to look up vacation destinations.
After 30 minutes of scrolling and typing, Bucky finally knows where he might want to go.
''How about Italy? I keep seeing photos and ads about Lake Como, and it looks beautiful,'' he says as he shows Steve some of the photos he's found.
''If that's where you want to go, then we will go to Italy,'' Steve says, looking into accommodations and stuff there.
He found a beautiful villa, which might be way too much for two people, but he wants to splurge on this vacation to make it unforgettable.
''What do you think of this villa? It has a beautiful view over Lake Como, a private pool, and anything else we could wish for on vacation,'' Steve says, and Bucky looks at the photos.
''It's perfect,'' he says, and not long after, the villa is booked, and plane tickets are also booked not long after that. Their time off was approved, so all left to do was go there and have a wonderful time together.
''Want to watch a movie in bed?'' Bucky offers, and Steve gladly accepts, shutting his laptop and getting up, followed by Bucky, who just got a few snacks to eat during the movie.
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About two months later, Bucky and Steve are having dinner in a small Italian restaurant, eating the best pasta they've ever had over small talk and a beautiful lake view.
What Bucky doesn't know, however, is that Steve has an engagement ring in his pocket that he is burning to get out of there. He wants to ask the question right now but must wait.
''Thank you for taking me here, Steve, but I must be honest,'' Bucky starts, and that's when Steve's heart almost bursts out of his chest. This is it, he thinks to himself. This is the end.
''I'm very appreciative of you taking me to Italy, showering me with nothing but love and amazing experiences here, but I don't know if I'm worth all this Steve,'' he says, his eyes not meeting Steve's.
''Bucky, can you please look at me?'' Steve asks, but when Bucky shakes his head as he blinks a few tears away, Steve places two fingers under his chin, lifting it to meet his gaze.
''You are worth everything in the world and more, Bucky. You did back when we grew up together, and you deserve this. You deserve to be loved and treated like the King you are because I love you. I have been for so long, and I can't wait to show you just how much for the rest of our lives,'' Steve says, quietly debating if he wants to propose now, but he decides against it. He's going to wait until they're back at the villa.
The rest of the dinner goes by in a blur as Steve realizes that the moment is coming closer and closer with every step they take as they walk back to the villa.
''Is everything okay? You seem a bit distracted tonight,'' Bucky says as he stops in the middle of the street, but Steve doesn't notice until Bucky suddenly pulls him back.
''W-what?'' he asks, and he looks at Bucky with a confused look; he didn't realize he was so far gone in his mind that even Bucky noticed something was happening.
''Everything's fine, I-I'm sorry. Shall we go to the villa?'' Steve asks with a small smile that doesn't convince Bucky, but he agrees. The rest of the walk is spent walking hand in hand and making small talk.
''I'm gonna go to the bathroom; I'll be right back for some cuddles, okay?'' Bucky says, and Steve nods, glad he doesn't have to devise an excuse to prepare the proposal.
The ring is still in his pocket, and all he has to do is light a few candles, which doesn't take long, and now the waiting game has started. Steve turns to the lake and looks up at the sky, silently asking his mom for all the help he can get now that he will ask the man he loves more than anyone to marry him.
When Bucky walks outside, he doesn't know what's going on, but he's worried when he sees Steve with his head down, leaning on the railing around the villa's yard.
''Steve?'' is all he asks as he looks around him at the candles that Steve lit all around them. His voice gets stuck in his throat as he feels what might be happening now.
Steve gets snapped out of his thoughts and looks at Bucky with a big smile as he walks over to him. When he's in front of Bucky, he softly grabs his face and pulls him in for a soft, sweet kiss.
''I love you so much,'' Steve says, but he doesn't allow Bucky to talk. If he doesn't tell him everything on his mind now, he's afraid he'll never do it.
So now the pair stands, Steve in a light-colored outfit, the complete opposite of Bucky's dark-colored outfit. The moon is illuminating the yard with an ethereal glow, and Steve grabs Bucky's hands and rubs his thumbs over his knuckles.
''Bucky, I am thankful to spend my life with you every day. We have found each other in this lifetime and will find each other in every lifetime after this one. The answer is always you when someone asks me what I'm thinking. Your funny jokes or sweet compliments, your soft hair or perfect lips, you are always on my mind, and I wouldn't want to have it any other way,'' Steve starts, and Bucky's suspicions are confirmed.
''When I look into your eyes, I see the reflection of the two of us and the life I hope we'll share for eternity. We've already been through hell and back, but we always found each other again, and I'm thankful for that,'' he says, trying to hold back his tears while Bucky is letting his flow freely right now.
''I know I've said it once, and I'll say it a million times more if that's what it takes for you to know how much I love you. I'll be with you to the end of the line, Bucky, and I hope you will be right there with me, by my side,'' Steve says, his hands now letting go of Bucky's, and his heart rate spikes up as he moves to his right pocket.
He holds the small box and inhales deeply before pulling it out, and he sinks on one knee. Bucky brings his hands to his face, covering the bottom half as he shuts his eyes for a few seconds, trying to understand what's happening.
Bucky hears that Steve opens the small box, and his eyes quickly open, and there it is. He never thought he would see the sight, but he will never forget it now that it's right before him.
''James Buchanan Barnes, I want to make a plan with you right here, right now. Ten years from tonight, I want to tell our children how I proposed to you and told you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, what do you say, will you marry me and tell them the story of the beginning of the rest of our lives?'' Steve asks, and Bucky can only nod, not trusting his voice to say anything right now.
''Y-yes, I'll marry you,'' Bucky says, and Steve quickly stands back up before crashing his lips onto those of his now fiancé. They both deepen the kiss immediately, wanting to be as close to each other as possible, but then Steve suddenly remembers he still needs to put the ring on Bucky's finger.
He pulls back with a big smile and grabs the ring out of the box before holding Bucky's hand, sliding it into place as it perfectly matches his Vibranium arm.
''I love you so much, Steve. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you as your husband,'' Bucky says before pulling his fiancé in for another kiss, and things quickly get heated.
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Bucky is on his hands and knees, his cheek pressed against the couch cushions of the lounge set in the yard of their villa. He's completely naked, and Steve slowly opens his tight ring of muscle to fuck him into the couch later.
Steve's hands are spreading Bucky's ass cheeks apart, and his tongue keeps licking over his tight hole, working his tongue inside slowly so he won't hurt him. Bucky's mind is already fuzzy at the feeling of Steve's tongue, and they barely even start.
''Oh, Daddy,'' he moans as Steve's tongue slides in further this time, a sign that Bucky's relaxing more and more each time, but Steve has barely started working him open, so he backs up and grabs the bottle of lube he got earlier.
He coats his fingers in a generous amount and squirts some directly on Bucky's hole, too, and he gasps as the cold liquid hits his skin, which feels like it's on fire in the best possible way. A shiver crawls up his spine, but he feels so fucking good right now.
''I'm going to go slow, Kitten. I'm going to test your patience tonight, but if you listen to me like the good boy I know you are for Daddy, I will fuck you so deep and hard that you will still feel me deep inside you for the rest of our vacation,'' Steve says, and Bucky whimpers at those words.
Steve glides his fingers through the lube between Bucky's cheeks before rubbing soft and slow circles on his ring of muscle, placing small kisses on his cheeks and upper thighs until the tip of his finger slides in, and Bucky gasps.
''Hm, I wish you could see how well you're taking my finger right now, Kitten,'' Steve says, and Bucky's cock hangs neglected between his thighs, leaking precum onto the cushions from the anticipation that Steve is building up.
Bucky's balls also feel so full and heavy, and he can't wait to cum for his Daddy, but he needs patience. He knows he needs to be patient, but it's tricky when his Daddy makes him feel this good. Soft whimpers leave his lips each time Steve moves his finger further into him, whispering sweet words.
''You're doing so well for me, Kitten, taking my finger almost all the way. Can't wait to fill you up with my fingers and have you make a mess all over the couch when you cum for Daddy,'' Steve says, and Bucky thrusts his hips back involuntarily, which earns him a smack on his ass.
''Patience, Kitten. If you don't listen, I will not let you cum for the rest of our vacation, remember?'' Steve says sternly, and Bucky answers with a barely audible yes.
''What's that? Because Daddies can't hear it when their Kittens talk that soft,'' Steve taunts him, and this time, Bucky croaks out a louder yes in response.
''Good boy,'' Steve says, and the praise goes right to Bucky's cock, making him twitch in anticipation. The rest of Steve's fingers are worked into him quickly, and when he's up to four fingers, Steve picks up the pace, brushing over his prostate each time.
''D-Daddy, please! Need to cum!'' Bucky shouts as he feels his orgasm washing over him, and when Steve starts to stroke his rock-hard cok with his free hand, Bucky shoots his cum over the couch cushions in endless ropes. He's never cum this hard, and he can't help but feel so good right now.
''T-thank you, Daddy,'' he says with a raspy voice, and Steve rewards him with a few kisses on his ass cheeks before he pulls Bucky up to his chest, letting his hands glide over his sensitive nipples, earning himself a few soft whimpers and moans.
''What do you think, do you want Daddy to fuck this gaping hole of yours, huh? Does my good boy get his hole wrecked until he can't think of anything but how full he feels? Such a slut for Daddy's dick, aren't you?'' Steve asks, and Bucky nods in response. As long as Steve keeps talking to him like that, he wants all of it and more.
Steve was also naked, and his cock looked angry with the red color and precum dripping in a steady stream, so he pushed Bucky forward again, his chest and face now pressed against the cushions of the couch while Steve lined up with his gaping hole.
Before he slides in, Steve adds another generous amount of lube, and then he works himself slowly into Bucky, starting with the tip before moving further, inch by inch until he's buried to the hilt and Bucky has turned into a moaning mess.
''Look at how well you're taking me, Kitten. You look so fucking good with my dick in your ass; I want to be buried inside you forever,'' Steve groans, making Bucky float even further away in his mind, feeling nothing but Steve inside him as he starts moving at a slow yet steady pace.
''Oh, fuck, Daddy, right there, feels so fucking good,'' Bucky mumbles as Steve keeps hitting his sweet spot right against his prostate before he picks up the pace, and Bucky only screams louder as he nears another orgasm.
''Hm, tell everyone how good Daddy makes you feel, Kitten. Let everyone hear what a good slut you are as you fall apart on your Daddy's cock,'' Steve says, holding onto Bucky's hips as he snaps in faster with each thrust, chasing his orgasm, which isn't far anymore.
''Daddy, please! Please lemme cum on your cock,'' Bucky begs as he clenches around Steve to keep himself from cumming without permission.
''Almost there, Kitten, wanna cum with you,'' Steve says through gritted teeth, and after a few more thrusts, he permits Bucky to cum again right as he shoots his load deep inside Bucky while he rides both of them through their orgasms.
''Such a perfect Kitten for me, you listened so well tonight,'' Steve praises Bucky, and his cheeks get a pink tint as he takes it all in, enjoying every last bit of praise Steve gives him.
When Steve is soft again, he slowly pulls out of Bucky to not overwhelm him, and they take a nice relaxing bath together before cuddling up in bed, whispering sweet nothings to one another while they're still naked.
This was the perfect vacation for both of them, and neither would have wanted it any other way. It's just the two of them, just like in the 40s and when they got out of the ice. They will always have each other and be together until the end of the line.
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benedictscanvas · 1 year
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Hi! Would I be able to request something for Steve rogers? I just had my period and had such excruciating cramps it made me think of this. Reader coming to Steve for comfort when the cramps are unbearable, him although a bit awkward comforting and helping as much as he can. Something in de lines of him getting a warm towel etc and reader calling out for him whereas he reply’s with I’m coming! And the other avengers hearing the interaction and thinking something else is going on ( if you’re comfortable with that!) awkward breakfast scene where they all tease them. Reader finding it very awkward and doesn’t go to him the next period because they think he doesn’t want to anymore. But him being super worried instead because he thinks reader hasn’t gotten their period yet and thinks something is wrong instead. Sorry for this being so all over the place! 🙈
don't apologise lovely, this is a great idea, especially as someone currently investigating whether or not i have endo, i feel you and i send you all the love in the world. we got this <3 || 2.2k words, tw periods, reader jokes about a hysterectomy, suggestive themes
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"Steve? Are you asleep?"
It may have been a silly question. Steve went to bed at midnight sharp every night and had done ever since you'd known him, getting up at a sensible 7am to complete his early morning gym session in peace. As it was only 22:30, he was almost certainly awake and you were regretting ever coming to his door. You were hit with another wave of cramps, however, and clutched at your stomach in desperation.
Steve appeared in his doorway, as cheery as ever. His face fell when he saw you doubled over, and he reached for you when you looked up with pain etched onto your face. You felt yourself tear up at the simple comfort of his large hands at either side of your neck, thumbs holding your chin up to look at him.
"Oh sweetheart," he said soothingly, his tone a world away from when you'd heard him training some new recruits earlier, all yelling and harsh edges, "Are you sick?"
"Jus' my period," you said simply, feeling your eyes water under his gaze. You saw him stiffen a little and you cursed yourself - you hadn't even thought about his attitude towards this kind of thing, or the fact that being raised 100 years ago might affect his knowledge on the matter. You gulped and tried to pull away from his comforting hands, but he held firm, "Sorry, I don't know why I came here."
He seemed to snap himself out of his own discomfort as he witnessed your own, letting go of your neck only to wrap an arm around your waist and practically carry you over to his bed, where he sat you down.
"Hopefully cause you knew I'd want to take care of you," he said softly, kneeling in front you with a sheepish smile, "Not sure I know exactly how, but you can teach me."
"You don't have to," you said quickly, "I've grown up with men who were comfortable with this sort of thing and I didn't think. It's okay to be out of your depth with it if you weren't taught."
He grinned at you, funnily enough. Two warm hands landed on your knees and rubbed small circles into every bit of bare skin he could find, grateful that your hoodie stopped mid-thigh.
"You're sweet. I wasn't taught much, but I know that it's nothing to be embarrassed about and that it must really hurt, baby. I'd take it all away if I could."
"You'd pay for my hysterectomy?" you muttered, cracking a smile.
He chuckled, because he'd heard you say it before, jokingly, to Nat and had asked what it was. Nowadays he knew all threats to remove your uterus were in jest, but the first time he'd heard it he'd gone a little pale at the thought.
"And risk not having little versions of us running about the place someday?" he asked, half-joking himself. The children discussion would probably be one you'd have a little down the line, since you'd only been dating for a few months, but it was something you already joked about more often than you probably should have, "Not quite yet. Can I get you anything else?"
It was human nature to want to say no, but it would have been a lie. You and Steve didn't lie to each other.
"Actually, my hot water bottle? It's on my nightstand, I forgot it when I came to find you. It just goes in the microwave, a minute and a half, if you're sure you don't mind."
He shook his head, hands now travelling from your knees right up to the tops of your thighs and back down again. Nothing in the touch but warmth and a little bit of love maybe. You'd only exchanged 'I love you's last week, but you were already beginning to recognise all the ways in which he'd told you he loved you before he said it out loud.
"I'm on it. You want food too? Chocolate?"
You narrowed your eyes at him.
"Somebody's been reading," you said, and he looked a little guilty, even though it only made him sweeter.
"A little. Heard you mention to Wanda it was coming up, I wanted to be able to help you," he murmured, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your temple as he got up to grab your things, "So glad you came to me, honey. Gonna take such good care of you."
"Y'always do," you said, tired and happy. There was fresh wave of pain rolling through your abdomen, sharp and stabbing, and you held onto it quietly as you smiled at Steve's retreating form. At his broad back, the muscles bunched and stretched out against one of his too-tight t-shirts. You loved those t-shirts almost as much as you loved him.
Maybe more than him, actually. There were really tight.
By the time he returned, you'd taken the initiative to curl yourself under his covers, feeling the telltale sweat on your forehead that told you the flow was getting heavier and the cramps were about to get worse. You told Steve as much through a grimace and he pouted his sympathy.
"Cuddles or space?"
It was one of your favourite phrases. The two of you said it to each other often, with both answers being totally acceptable and inoffensive to the other. It had been years since either of you had been in a proper relationship and with that came a penchant for independence neither of you wanted to shake. Some of your favourite days with Steve had been spent on opposite sides of the sofa, with only your feet on his lap for contact.
Right now, you needed a little more of him.
"Maybe just a hand on my stomach?" you asked, tentative in being too specific, "I think anything else might be a little smothering right now."
He nodded like he understood and you got the feeling he was really trying to. He crawled into bed beside you, placed his hand holding the hot water bottle against your stomach. You had to move his hand to the correct place, but you sighed in praise once he'd found it.
"Anything you need," he reassured once again, with another shorter kiss to your temple. You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling of his hand and of being so openly loved. Sometimes it was like a cramp of its own on your heart.
Then the cramps got worse and there was nothing distracting enough to take away from them.
Steve coaxed you through every wave. Told you how well you were doing, how horrible this was, how much he wished he could take on every bit of pain you'd ever felt and carry it around with him instead. It got a little dramatic at times, in fact, but in your state it was exactly what you needed and it seemed he knew that. He wasn't usually quite so affectionate with his words.
At one point, he simply had to get up for a toilet break, even though you could tell he'd been desperately trying to hold it. Another wave of pain hit just as he was washing his hands and you cried out despite yourself, the tears springing anew.
"I'm...ugh, coming!" there was a groan halfway through his sentiment that made you furrow your brow, but it turned out he'd stubbed his toe on the doorframe in his rush back to you. Despite your own pain, you'd managed a chaste kiss to his collarbone to soothe him and it seemed to do wonders.
When the pain finally subsided a little, it was around 2am and you'd royally messed with his nighttime routine.
"Sorry it's past your bedtime," you told him quietly when you were both finally trying to go to sleep. You could tell he was waiting for you before he allowed himself to succumb to sleep. You were both lying on your sides facing each other, just your pinkies locked together in your usual, minimal night-time embrace.
"S'okay sweet," he slurred, tired as could be. You tightened your pinky around his, "Wake me if you can't sleep."
You nodded, then let yourself drift off if only to ensure he got as much sleep as possible.
~~~
When you woke, it was just before nine in the morning and it took everything within you not to turn over and try to fall asleep again. You knew that breakfast was only served until around half nine around here though, at Tony's insistence, because "anything after that would be brunch, and we're not doing a daily brunch dipshits".
Steve was gone without a trace, although you were hoping he hadn't got up for his early workout without getting himself a little more sleep.
There was a trace of Steve, you found, as you swung your legs out of bed and prepared to stand. On the nightstand, he'd left pain medication, water and a freshly warm water bottle that told you he couldn't have been gone too long. One of his hoodies, soft and large enough to drop to your thighs had been left draped at the end of his bed, so you tugged it on over your pyjamas with a wry smile as you headed out.
The breakfast table was sparse - so many of these heroes having such early starts it made your head spin. But Tony was there, alongside Sam and Maria and, most importantly, Steve.
Silly-sweet Steve whose whole face lit up when he saw you traipse in. You made your way over to him with a greeting smile to the rest of the group.
"Tuckered out, Y/N?" Tony asked before Steve could even greet you with the soft morning murmur you loved. Sam instantly elbowed him in a way you couldn't explain and Steve was glaring at him too, his face starkly different to when you'd just walked in.
"Drop it, Tony."
Tony tuts. You hesitate to take the seat your hand was resting on, just in case.
"Nothing to be embarrassed about, Cap, we're all human," he grins, then his face falls dramatically, "Unless...there is something to be embarrassed about? Scared Y/N might expose your poor...performance for us?"
"Steve, what is he talking about?"
This time it's Maria who cuts in before Steve can answer you.
"He's being a child. A few of us nearby heard some stuff from Steve's room last night and Stark cares more than he should. Probably because Pepper's cut him off again."
"Uh, excuse me, Hill-"
Tony was arguing back and forth with Maria rather vehemently, but you weren't really listening anymore. They thought they'd heard you and Steve having sex? It explained why Steve was staring daggers at the breakfast in front of him, but you couldn't think of anything that would've sounded like that.
"Steve!"
"I'm- ugh, coming!"
You had no idea how you hadn't heard the innuendo in it at the time. Your skin had gone up in flames. You picked up a plate and piled it high but you knew there was no way you could stay at this table and listen to Tony's teasing.
"I'm still not feeling great," you whispered to Steve, pressing a chaste kiss to the spot above his ear, "I'll see you later, honey."
"I'll come with you," he said easily, already beginning to get up but you pushed him back into his chair. The idea of adding fuel to the fire was too much for your slightly hormonal mind to deal with right now and you could even feel tell-tale tears behind your eyes. Fuck periods.
"No, you finish your breakfast," you smiled, even knowing it wouldn't meet your eyes, "Honestly, it's fine."
And you didn't give him a chance to argue, fighting to ignore the kicked puppy look he was sporting as you quickly walked out of the canteen. You could hear Sam telling Tony to look at what he'd done, but they were out of earshot soon enough.
~~~
The day had gone by painfully slowly and you were still in pain for most of it. The relief of the pain being a little better than the night before had soon worn off, and the residual pain was still enough for you to stay in bed most of the day and beat yourself up for it.
Even though you knew you were entitled, you'd had a text from Steve telling you he'd been called to some meeting a few blocks away, that he'd let you know when he was back. It had made you feel like you should be doing something too, but the next episode came on and you allowed yourself to sink back into the pillows.
You'd also spent the day beating yourself up for your reaction to everything that morning. You could blame it on your period or that you'd just woken up, but the truth was you'd just panicked that Steve might panic. He hated people talking about his sex life in that way, always had, and the idea of you making that worse for him had taken over you.
But Tony texted to say sorry and you apologised right back, which he scolded you for. You knew he hadn't meant any harm.
It was past 8pm by the time you got another text:
Finally back. Sorry it's been so long. Your place or mine? :)
You winced at the gorgeous message. He was an altogether gorgeous man, so why did the idea of talking about what had happened that morning fill you with dread? Steve had obviously trained himself to help you on your period but it wasn't something that came naturally to him. You worried that he might feel more uncomfortable about the whole thing now and nothing hurt more than making him uncomfortable.
Can we take a raincheck? Hope the meeting wasn't too awful x
He replied back so quickly you wondered if he'd just been sat there waiting for you.
Are you okay? It was definitely awful, but I'm in one piece at least.
Something felt icky in your chest and you thought about bounding up to his door like last night and leaping into his arms, but instead you locked your phone and turned over on your side as another wave of pain hit.
It had only been ten minutes when there was a knock on your door.
"Y/N? I know you said rain check and I swear I'll go away as soon as you let me know you're alright? Is it the pain again?"
Your heart ached even more than your stomach. His kindness knew no bounds and you loved him so wholeheartedly it felt like you might burst.
"Shit, I'm sorry Steve, come in, please."
The door clicked and edged open slowly, just a portion of his head sticking through it as he assessed the situation. When he saw you all swaddled in blankets he came closer, but only to sit at the end of your bed. You reached for his hand, gratified when he offered it readily.
"Y/N-"
"No, I'm really sorry Steve. For not replying and for not wanting to see you and for this morning, especially, and the teasing. I know you hate that sort of thing and I'm so sorry I put you in that position and then I just felt so bad about it I didn't want to see you. But I always want to see you. Always, baby, I'm sorry."
He blinked. You pressed your lips together into a thin line as you waited for him to respond to your rant. A slightly pathetic rant, in hindsight, but at least it was all said.
"Struggling to see what you're apologising for, sweetness," he said eventually, rubbing his thumb into your hand, steadying, "You're entitled to want an evening to yourself, anytime. You know that."
"I do," you said in earnest, "But we communicate better than I did tonight. And I was an ass this morning."
"Tony was an ass," he correctly firmly, "But I wasn't that embarrassed, baby. I've come a long way since I came out the ice all innocent. You should know that better than anyone."
His fingers fluttered at your wrist, a spark in his eye, and there was heat flooding through you for an entirely different reason now.
"You're right, of course. Can we maybe blame it on my period messing me up and get straight to the bit where you kiss me stupid?"
He chuckles at you and you pout when he doesn't follow it right up with a kiss.
"One last thing, it'll be quick, I promise," he said, pleading, "Please don't let anything getting in the way of you coming to me when you feel like this. Sitting in my room knowing my girl is in pain is way too much for me to handle, baby."
Yes, you could have answered in words, but you were an impatient being. You surged forward to connect your lips to his instead, ignoring the stab of pain from the change of position as you melted into him, his large warm hand soon cupping the back of your neck to keep you close.
When Steve's other hand came up to your stomach in an attempt to quell the pain, you found yourself grinning too hard not to pull away. He grinned right back.
if you'd like to request something, please do so here. i'd love to hear from you, sunflower <3
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