#happyhoelentinesday2021

[gotnofucks]

No One’s Bitch

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: If Steve thought you’ll bend to his will, he was dead wrong. This kitty has some claws.

Words: 1.5k

Warning: Non-con/Dub-con, smut, kinda hate fuck?, kidnapping, language, breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is my Happy Hoelentine’s Day gift to @mariahthelioness29​ . Hope you enjoy this love, wishing you a very orgasmfull Valentines! This amazing challenge was hosted by the very talented @amythedvdhoarder​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ and @chrissquares​. You girls are amazing! 

“We need an ultrasound!” Steve shouted, carrying you into Bruce’s office and dumping you on a stretcher. Your hands beat at his shoulder in protest, a snarl ripping from you as he finally let go.

“I told you I can walk!” You scream at him and he scowls at your tone.

Bruce blinked at you two for a minute before sighing, wheeling out his ultrasound machine next to you and motioning you to pull up your top.

“Did you finally get her pregnant?” He asked in an almost bored voice and you wrinkled your nose at him in disgust. The nerve of everyone in this goddamn tower!

“No, he didn’t, and if I have it my way he never will.” You huff, earning a disapproving look from both males. Bruce squeezed some cold gel onto his probe and put it on your stomach, gliding it along your stomach and abdomen, eyes trained on the screen.

“Don’t be too sure about it. I’ll like to see you try to escape once I put a baby inside you.” Steve growled and your nostrils flared in anger. You flipped him off, uncaring of his strength and threats. When he kidnapped you and claimed you months ago, Steve didn’t expect you to fight this long. He thought he’d be able to extinguish your fire, force you into a loving relationship and be with him. Well, the jokes on him. You’re no one’s bitch. Not even Captain America’s.

You looked at the monitor too, biting your lip nervously as Bruce pressed the probe deeper, making you hiss.

“What the fuck?” He sputtered, raising his brows at you and Steve. You rolled your eyes, relaxing a little. Thank fuck its not stuck in your throat. “Is that a ring in your stomach?”

Steve slumped on the stool beside you, sighing deep.

“She swallowed it.” He simply said and you sat up quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Blond fucker’s a liar” You snap, “Who the fuck hides a ring in food anymore? Can you get anymore cliché?”

Steve slams his hands on the stretcher beside you, caging you in as he pressed in close to touch his nose to yours. The musky scent of his aftershave wafted over to you and clung to your pores, making you want to sneeze.

“I was trying to be romantic.” He said. “It’s valentine’s day tomorrow. I wanted to spend it as fiancés.”

You breathed out a disbelieving laugh, still surprised at how normal everyone treated this absurdity of your relationship with Steve. If it could even be called that.

“You thought that snatching me away from my family and life was romantic? You thought that taking me against me will and fucking me unconscious every night was romantic. What does a man like you know of romance and love, Mr. Rogers?” You sneer in his face.

Even as his hand came to fist your hair and pull, you don’t cry out in pain. You’ve trained yourself well enough to somehow keep the tears in your eyes and not have them spill over.

“Don’t sit here pretending you don’t come on my dick like a slut, darling” Steve said, his voice low and deep. You barely registered Bruce clearing his throat and walking away, too busy focusing on the rapidly darkening blue in Steve’s eyes.

“If we’re being honest here Steve, then your meaty cum-gun is the only redeemable part about you.” You sweetly said to him and whined as you were roughly push on your back, Steve’s body covering yours.

His lips descended on yours in a frenzy, hands frantic as they pulled at your pants. Months ago, you’d have been embarrassed by the moans that spilled from your parted mouth, but when it became clear that earth shattering orgasms was the only reward for you in this shitshow of an arrangement, you decided to make the best of it.

You pulled on Steve’s hair, biting his lip roughly when he pulled out his hard length and slapped it against your glistening folds, lubing himself in your juices. He growled against you, two fingering unceremoniously thrust into your opening that had you arching your back with pain and pleasure.

“Pathetic” Steve spat, “Only have to touch you and you become a whiny cumslut.”

You groan, wrapping your legs around his huge body to urge him closer. Heels dug into his back and you raked your nails across his scalp and back, leaving bite marks across his shoulder that had him pushing inside you with one hard thrust. You threw your head back, a choked sound howled directly in Steve’s mouth as he hips became flush with yours.

“Look at you, my greedy girl” He mocked, pulling back until only his tip was inside before plunging back inside. “Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock, can you?”

The fragile stretcher threatened to give out under the force of you both, squeaking dangerously as Steve powered into you, sweat and spit mixing on your skin and leaving you damp.

“Is that all you got, Captain?” You challenged, “Can’t make me stay even with a magic cock, can you?”

Steve’s hands took yours and pinned them beside your head, hips almost a blur as he went in and out of you, hitting so deep he seemed to move your womb.

“Fucking bitch, I’ll have you round with my seed. We’ll see how well this mouth runs when it’s too busy sucking my cock and singing lullabies to our brat” He said.

Your brows knit together as he hit a spot inside you that had you mewling, breath coming out in broken pants. You put your lips at Steve’s eyes, licking his earlobe before pulling on it.

“Can’t even get me pregnant. Maybe you should get Bucky to help.”

That was the last straw and Steve’s growl was almost animalist as he ripped away your top, sucking greedily on your hardened nipples while his dick speared you open. You screamed as the stretcher finally snapped, you and Steve tumbling to the floor, still fucking like animals in heat.

The coil inside you wound up tighter the harder Steve went, his tongue swirling inside your mouth and not letting you speak. Your eyes were locked with his furious ones, hips coming up to meet every thrust of his with your own, your juices dripping down your thighs and making a mess.

“I’ll fuck you ten time a day, I’ll spread you open and fuck you in front of everyone until the only thing you’re capable to thinking and saying is my name. You think you won, but no baby, I can do this all day!” He hissed at you and pinched your clit harshly. You snapped, a powerful orgasm tearing through you and making your world turn upside down. You howled, an agonized scream of pure, unadulterated, sinful pleasure echoing around the room.

Steve fucked you through your high, almost close to his own release when you used all your strength to turn him over, straddling him and bouncing on his cock. His eyes widened, his dick going deeper as you took hold of his shoulders and sank down on him with a moan.

“Come inside me then, Captain. Come, fill me up. Let’s see if you manage to fuck a brat inside me today after all.” You provoked and Steve grunted, huge arms holding you close as he twitched inside you, his cum painting your insides.

You collapsed on him, sweaty and spent, breath laboured. He wasn’t much better, the broken stretcher digging into his back as he pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose in your neck. You tried to jerk away, rejecting his affections but he only held tighter, forcing a sweet, almost innocent kiss on your pursed lips.

“One day, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll fall in love with me.” Steve promised and your eyes narrowed. Covered in his scent and essence, you were as marked by him as a tree peed on by a dog.

“One day, you’ll wake up with a dagger inside your chest and you’ll only have yourself to blame.” You remarked. Steve lazily chuckled, bringing you even closer. You wondered if he planned to fall asleep on the floor with you when Bruce came in, resolutely looking at the ceiling.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The doctor bemoaned and you sarcastically smiled at him despite him still looking away.

“What, haven’t you ever witnessed a good shag?” You ask and Steve’s chest rumbled beneath you. “And you, let go. I need to get that fucking ring out of me.”

Steve sighed, reluctantly releasing you and sitting up. He gave you his t-shirt to wear, your own laying in tatters on the floor.

“Will I need a surgery?” You asked Bruce who was grimacing at the mess in his small office.

“No, it should come out naturally in a few days.” He said. When you just looked at him dumbstruck, he wrinkled his nose, a little amused. “You’ll have to pass it out.”

Steve’s eyes met yours and you resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“I’ll get you a new one.” He said dismissively and you stomped your feet, fixing yourself the best you could and moved towards the door.

“I am not marrying you!” You shout over your shoulder, pushing open the door and not sparing a glance behind.

“We’ll see.” Steve said, a smile on his lips.

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x you

[donutloverxo]

Just for Mrs Barber

Note - Written for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes and @amythedvdhoarder 's hoelentine's fic swap challenge! My giftee was the beautiful @kaminorogers . I hope you all like it.

Shoutout to beard kinks resident hoe @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for all her help with this and to my dear friend lizzygal (link to ao3) for the beta.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - Your husband buys you kinky gifts (and a whole ass house) for your anniversary/valentines.

Warnings - 18+ only please! Explicit sexual content, beard kink, bondage, blindfold, dom!Andy.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 2.6k

You were sure you heard Linda say something, her voice was mixed up in the background noise of everyone chatting and some music. You couldn’t really listen, not when your husband decided that he was going to look that good and distract you, keeping you from being a good hostess.

Andy always looked good. He could roll out of bed and look good enough to eat—although maybe you were a bit biased. He was one of those people who just didn’t realize how handsome he was.

Maybe he had some sort of eyesight problem, because looking at him now. With his hair made up and beard neatly trimmed, wearing a cream sweater and some dark jeans, the whole ensemble was so basic but he pulled it off so well. His pink lips looked so delicious as they sipped on a beer.

“Mrs Barber.”

You gasped when you heard Linda call out to you, clearing your throat you looked back at her. “Yes?”

“I love what you’ve done with the house, it’s so beautiful.”

A genuine smile graced your face as you thanked her. Andy had asked you what you wanted for your first wedding anniversary, you nonchalantly told him that you wanted the most picture perfect and cosy house in the suburbs. That you were too tired of the noise and pollution of the city and longed to have a garden of your own.

Also, a bigger house would be much better if you ever have any youngins. But you didn’t tell him that. Not yet.

You were just being yourself--kind of a spoilt brat. Which shouldn’t have surprised him because he was the one to spoil you with his love and affection and the occasional material gifts.

You absolutely did not expect him to actually buy you a big ass house. It wasn’t too big if you thought about it. Just a master and two smaller bedrooms, which was what you preferred. You didn’t want to have any distance from your husband. Be it physical or emotional.

The backyard was most spacious. You could probably fit a beautiful gazebo there. But you planned on growing your own vegetables and make delicious meals as a thank you to Andy everyday for the rest of your lives. You had put your heart into decorating every single nook and cranny of the house. Having it be appreciated was most flattering.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Your husband is so handsome,” she observed and you only hummed as you looked over at him. He most definitely was. “And he helped you with cooking and setting up.”

“Yes, he did. He always helps. He isn’t one for parties but he indulged me by letting me throw this one,” you told her.

Andy wasn’t that enthusiastic about hosting a barbeque for neighbors who were basically still strangers for your anniversary/valentines. He preferred to have you to himself but with some kisses and cuddles, batting your brand-new eyelash extensions, and convincing he finally gave in.

“Mrs Barber,” Linda grinned, putting her hand on your elbow, “You’re drooling.”

“Oh, I am?” you quickly looked over at her, after admiring how perfect your husband’s ass looked in those damn jeans.

“That’s alright, I promise I won’t tell,” she winked, “you’re both so cute.”

You were gushing some more about Andy, how amazing he was and how the honeymoon phase never seemed to end for you both. But you straightened up when you saw him approaching you.

“Honey,” he said, “We’re out of ice.”

“Oh, I thought we had enough... I’m sure we could do without it,” you shrugged.

Andy snaked a hand around your waist, sipping on his beer as he looked down at you, so much more comfortable by your side. He frowned when he heard the guys calling for him, reluctant to leave your side but you nudged him and told him to go socialise.

“I’ll make it worth your while, later tonight,” you whispered to him.

He pressed his lips to your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin making you gasp. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said against your face which was heating up by his uncharacteristic public display of affection.

After cleaning up you were finally getting ready for bed. Wiping your make up before taking your diamond studs off.

“We made so many friends too,” you wondered out loud. “It was a success in my book! I hope I was a good hostess.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you were. Come here now.” You saw him in your dressing tables mirror, extending an arm to you and inviting you to him.

“Um, well, maybe give me a moment,” you stammered, heat creeping up your neck as you scurried off to the bathroom while he called out for you.

He frowned, you never had any problem changing clothes in front of him or being naked and in so many compromising positions before him, so why now?

“Honey, I appreciate this, I really do, but.. maybe we can just do something else,” he told you, holding onto your hand which was massaging his shoulder and kissing your knuckles. He thought it was nice of you to offer a back rub, after the day he had had he needed it, but he wanted something more than that... “I’m hungry,” he licked his lips.

“I can cook something up for you, a post-dinner snack maybe,” you offered.

“No baby,” he chuckled, “Hungry for YOU.”

He kissed the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot he knew drove you wild but then frowned when he didn’t get the reaction he desired from you, in fact you felt a little... stiff.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he looked into your eyes.

“I was actually wondering if we could try something new...”

“Like what?” he pouted. He was a bit concerned, whenever you both had tried something new, it didn’t really go well.

There was that time you slipped and sprained your ankle during a very taxing session in the shower, when you surprised him at his office but then you were caught by his assistant—to this day he still can’t look her in the eye, when you insisted on tying him up but he ended up breaking free of the cuffs and spending the night ravaging you instead.

His unenthusiastic response was clearly not what you wanted as you blinked, disappointed evident on your face, “Nothing,” you shook your head, “now, where were we?” a salacious grin on your lips.

He hadn’t really tried to press on to see what your new suggestion was. He knew he wasn’t the most interesting man in the world. He wasn’t always as easy going as you were. How he even managed to get someone like you was something he could never comprehend.

“Are you ready for your surprise, baby,” came your voice from the master bathroom, “Here I come.”

You twirled before him, showing off your brand new fiery red babydoll. Which cost a pretty penny since it was the season of love.

“Whoa, you look gorgeous... what did I ever do to deserve you...” he wondered as his gaze raked you over.

“It’s actually the other way around,” you waved him off, climbing on the bed, “It’s time for your gift, Mr Barber.”

You took the book he was reading from his hands, setting it beside him and he hummed as you kissed his cheek.

“Actually...” he held onto the curve of your hips, squeezing just a little bit.

“Hm?”

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart.”

That got your attention. You pulled away from his face, your soft lips still tingling from the coarseness of the hair on his face. “Oh?” Your heart fluttering in excitement. “You didn’t have to. You already bought us a home...” You said in a small voice, your fingers playing with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Oh, believe me, honey, it’s not just for you,” he smirked.

You watched, your fingers drumming along your bare thigh in anticipation as he went through his dresser.

“Since you want to try new things,” he said with his back to you, pulling something out of the dresser, “I figured this might be the perfect opportunity.”

You gasped when you saw, what looked like was a red silk tie and a dark blindfold.

“Wow.” Was all you could say. You had tried to get Andy to watch fifty shades with you and while he didn’t really say it, you knew that he wasn’t really into the movie or the kinky sex. He could barely stay down when you used cute pink fluffy handcuffs on him.

“I hope you can be a good girl for me,” his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, “and stay still. You never do... I always have to hold you down so this should make things easier... hands,” he commanded, his authoritative tone leaving no room for disobedience, as you held your hands out for him, gulping a lump of air and watching his hands tie an intricate knot around your wrists.

“It’s soft...” You wiggled your wrists testing the ties strength.

“Of course it is, I want you to be comfortable, princess,” he kissed your forehead, smoothing a hand over your scalp, he looked at the blindfold and then at you, “It’ll be kinda hard for me to not look into your eyes,” his brow furrowed as he put the blindfold over your head, the elastic stretching and then settling behind your ears till you all you could see was black, “Let me know if you need me to stop... or if you need anything.”

“Yes,” you nodded, pouting when you heard him pulling his tshirt off. You were so excited about the dirty sex that you didn’t even think about this--not being able to see Andy naked. You were about to whine about it but he pushed you back till you were lying on the mattress.

“This is all so exciting...” you whispered, having no idea what he was doing or was about to do, if he was looking at you or elsewhere.

“I know, honey, now you just let me take care of you.” You nodded, shivering when you felt the coolness of his wedding band against your thigh, “Sorry baby, are my hands cold?”

“Just a bit...”

You heard him rubbing them together to heat them up for you, before he touched your inner thigh, parting your thighs to make room for him, he pushed your nightie up, exposing your breasts and stiff peaks to him, “So beautiful... and all for me.”

“All for you, Andy,” you tried to close your legs to rub them together, to create some friction to calm the heat between your legs but his hold on you wouldn’t leave you any room to move.

“You need something, honey? You’ll have to use your words to tell me.”

You huffed, although you couldn’t see him you just knew he had a shit eating grin on his face. “Want you to make love to me, Andy,” you fessed up anyway.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing though. This is how I make love, honey,” you gasped as you felt his warm mouth latching on your nipple, his leaking manhood on your thigh.

“Oh...” you tried to arch your back, to pushed more of you into him.

He released your nipple with a pop, “You like that?”

He had never seen you like this, never knew he wanted you like this--so helpless and completely at his mercy. Writhing under him and craving him so badly, snaking a hand between your legs, “You’re so wet, honey,” he observed as he spread your slick around your lips, pulling a desperate whimper from you.

He sucked his fingers clean, you tasted so sweet, like honey.

He pinned your tied hands above your head when you tried to raise them to touch him, “No baby, you know the rules for tonight. I thought you wanted to be my good girl.”

“I do!” you whimpered again, your body shaking and writhing in his hold.

His poor girl, he knew how hard it must be for you. How you were obsessed with his beard. Sometimes He wondered if you loved it more than you loved him. He hadn’t shaved it off since he had met you.

“Then stay still, and you will be rewarded,” he promised you, pushing a finger inside you as he rubbed his beard against your sensitive nipples which seemed to set you off.

“Oh god,” you shrieked but didn’t dare move your arms.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, on your belly button, before settling between your legs and staring at your bare, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” he wondered again, he didn’t need for you to answer, you were tied up and presented before him, just for him to feast on however he pleased. He sloppily licked as much of your juices as he could.

“All for you...” you shuddered as he rubbed his beard against the skin of your thigh.

Temporarily losing your vision seemed to have heightened everything, was it always so intense when his calloused fingers touched you? When he pushed three of his fingers inside you while whispering the dirtiest things in the world in your ear, rubbing his beard into the crook of your neck till you came around his fingers.

You were still dizzy from your high, you hissed out his name when he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving your cunt so void and empty.

You didn’t have the opportunity to tell him just how amazing that was, “You ready, babe?” You heard him ask as you nodded, his leaking tip against your opening.

He pushed into you, slowly and steadily to draw it out, he always liked taking his time, a woman like you deserved to be treated right. He hovered over you, staring at your face, your sparkling eyes covered by the blindfold, your bottom lip between your teeth, he pulled it out of your mouth with his thumb

“Don’t want you hurting yourself, honey,” he tutted, shaking his head as be sucked on your bruised bottom lip, fully sheathing himself inside you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, hooking them behind his back, he was so big - the biggest you had ever had and yet it was never enough. Your cunt was greedy. You needed him deep, as deep as he could go. Exploring parts of you no one had seen or touched before. Only he ever would.

His hand circling your hips to pull you up against him as he rocked his hips against yours, “You’re so tight... squeezing me so tight,” he groaned. “You wanna come for me?” He whispered in your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.

“Yes,” you furiously nodded, your orgasm washing over you, dark spots in your vision as you felt your limbs loosen up.

“Hang on for me,” he warned you, holding onto the headboard as he chased his own end.

You sighed, hooking your tied-up hands around his neck as you felt his warm spend fill you up.

“Feels nice,” you mumbled, nuzzling his beard.

He hushed when you whined like the needy little thing that you were as he pulled out of you, untying your bound wrists.

He dimmed the lights before removing your blindfold, “There she is,” he smiled, kissing your temple as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you have fun, honey?” he held onto your chin as he made you turn your head to him, so that he could look into your eyes.

“Mm-hm. We should do this again sometime,” you yawned. You were better at being tied up than him anyway.

“We will. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy Valentine’s.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #andy barber x oc #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber #andy barber fan fiction #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader

[junova]

↬ 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract — steve professes his love for you then disappears for three months. what happens when he returns? 

pairing — steve rogers x fem!reader 

wc — 2.7k 

warnings — 18+ DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR, heavy smut, daddy kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cockwarming if u squint, cussing, angst, fluff. 

[m blabs] — howdy howdy! this is for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes , and @amythedvdhoarder​ hoelentine’s fic swap! sorry this is a day late pls dont come for me and i did not proof read this so i apologize for future readers suffering thank u

my giftee was one of the insanely talented writers on this app — @donutloverxo ! hope you like it berry! <3  

It had been months since you’d seen him. An undercover mission taking longer than originally thought left you feeling lonelier to your own surprise. You blamed it how the two of you left things unresolved. Out in the open, all of his feelings laid out on a silver platter for you to take. 

All of it. Steve, his love, the moment of words you’d dreamed of him saying — it was too real. Too unimaginable to believe. He always is. 

You’d never really had someone you who went out of their way everyday to make you feel loved and Steve did. Truly, you should have seen it sooner. The consistency of his adoration and loyalty blew the limits of platonic friendship. Not until, he was nearly crying, choked up by his own words did you realize just how much it ran deep within him. 

The words he spoke to you were still echoing in the forefront of your mind, not letting you breath for a moment. Were you really in love with him just as much as he was with you? It was hard to believe just because Steve was so far out of reach. Especially for you. 

Watching his beautiful shade of cerulean, bright and beaming with hope, wanting nothing more than to for you to see him. Leaving him the impression that you didn’t cut the two of you deep. Your answer was hesitant, full of caution. Exactly the opposite for what he was yearning for. 

Now, just like you had done for the past couple of weeks, you found yourself waiting in the tower for him. You lingered around no matter how many times Tony told you they would let you know when he was home safely. It didn’t stop you from coming, though. 

Even if you knew it would be even longer until you would get to finish the conversation with him, being her helped you feel more at ease. Plus, no one’s besides Tony had the guts to try and make you leave. 

Natasha and Sam were the only ones who didn’t really question it. Ever since you met Steve, you were here so often but they just so happened to be walking down the hall when he confessed exactly how wide his affection ran for you. 

As they watched you linger in the tower, even if the outcome had been different than Steve wanted or expected, Sam and Nat were starting to see just how much you cared for him. 

Natasha was the one to catch you silently sleeping in one of his sweatshirts cuddled up into his sheets. Thankfully, still smelling like him just enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber. 

Then, Sam caught you peeking at the framed picture of the two of you sitting on his desk, the only one which did. Admiring the way you let your fingers drift around the wooden frame, endearingly. Internally, continuing to fight this inner battle within you. 

“If it makes it any easier, I’m sure he misses you just as much.” You peaked up at the tone of Wilson’s voice, making his presence known. He walked over to you, watching as you continued to look at the photo. 

Your smile wide at your college graduation, ball and gown, wearing a dress you knew Steve liked with his arms wrapped around your waist in a truly candid moment, one you’d forgotten about. The picture more than likely buried so deep within your phone with the countless others you had taken of and with him. 

“I wish it did, but it doesn't really. Just wish I knew he was okay. I worry a bit too much, I think.” You spoke softly, halfway speaking to Sam but you mostly just spoke to yourself. “I never knew he kept this photo of us here.” Your touch finally disconnects from the sturdy frame. 

“He really thinks too sweetly of me.” Standing in his office, surrounded by all of his belongings made it so much harder for you to cut ties like you had originally wanted to do. “Really? Couldn’t tell by how he talks about you constantly.” 

“Oh my god, Sam.” You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your tummy, but anytime Steve was mentioned it seemed to be an effect he only seemed to pull from you. “What? C’mon, all of us know he was planning on telling you how he felt before Bucky and him left.” 

Well, it seemed the embarrassment only seemed to continue. 

“All of you, even Tony?” You asked him, even if you knew the answer. You just wanted the attention off you. “Especially Tony. Why do you think he’s been more of a smartass lately?” It made sense, but it did nothing to calm the nerves threatening to boil over. 

“I guess I’m just having a hard time believing everyone knew how he felt, but me. I just never thought he would ever feel this way again, about anyone, after Peggy. She was the love of his life and it’s not something I couldn’t possibly measure up to.” You stopped looking at the picture, feeling sick to your stomach. 

“With all of what he’s told me, I’ll always feel second best to her because I know just as everyone else if he could still have her he would.” You saw the sketch one time, when he left it open on the counter. It wasn’t really like you to snoop, but you couldn’t help it one day and you did. 

Page after page, it was all of Peggy. Any feelings you were harboring for him at the time were thrown to the wind. Because then, you knew. Now matter how important you were to him now, you would always be in the shadow of his first love. The one that got away from him. 

“What makes you think that?” Tears were starting to surface and you couldn’t handle it, the worst of your insecurities creeping in. 

“Just ask to look at his compass next time you see him.” But you knew what was there. You didn’t need yet another painful reminder of it. “Why would I torture myself like that, Sam?” 

“Trust me. You may be surprised.” You highly doubt you would be, so why even try? 

The party was in full swing by the tie you arrived. The tower was full with more people than usual as you stepped in, watching as everyone enjoyed themselves. You were hesitant to even come to Natasha’s celebration at all. 

You hadn’t been here since your conversation with Sam. Just a little too worried Steve might catch you lingering in his home and sleeping in his clothes. It was something the both of you did, but now with his feelings laying out in the open it seems so much more intimate than before. 

Just as you were about to head towards the bar area, where everyone was, you left a large find your own grabbing your attention. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” His velvety, smooth voice makes you melt just like it always does. It didn’t register for a second, just who you were talking to and when you did he was in for it. 

“Stevie!” You leaped into his arms, too shocked to mask your sheer excitement as your legs wrapped around his slim waist, letting yourself be caught by him. 

“I missed you so much, honey.” His words clenching at your heart at the endearing nickname. You felt him sigh into you, one of relief. 

“I missed you, too.” You mumbled while you were still clinging onto him like your life depended on it. 

“As much as I want to catch up, I feel like we should talk about what happened before I left.” Already, your heart dropped into your chest. 

“Stevie, it can’t wait. Don’t worry about it. Okay?” You tried to rub it off because even after all this time you still weren’t certain of the weight in his words. 

You let yourself down, off of him, and tried to lead him in the direction of the party but he didn’t budge. 

“Please, work with me here. I’m sure they all miss you and want to see you.” Now, you were just stalling and Steve could see it as clear as day. 

“Sweetheart, please just stop for a minute.” He felt your hand fall as you crossed your arms over your chest passively.  

“Please, Steve.” You pleaded with him and for a moment you just thought he might go with you until those dating words fell from his plump lips. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Those words effectively shut you up as Steve stepped closer to you. 

“I think about if you love me as much as I’ve fallen in love with you.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as he edged closer to you. 

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much I want to kiss those pouty lips of yours. How much I wanna claim you in every single way.” He was so close to you now, questioning how you were still breathing. 

“Just tell me you don’t want this and I’ll go down to that party right now and pretend like this never happened.” When you were silent, looking anywhere but him, he got the hint. 

You watched as he walked in the navy clad plants with a button up clinging to his narrow waist. 

“Wait!” Even with your heels, you ran to him while he waited for you to catch up. 

“Do you still carry your compass on you?” You questioned him with tears in your eyes he hadn’t noticed until now. 

And it crushed him. 

“Of course I do. Wait...Is this just another crack at how old I really am?” Maybe if you weren’t sure he had just crushed your heart with a single response you might’ve laughed. 

“I know this is going to sound weird but can I see it?” Watching him reach for it in his right pocket, you noticed the crimson blush reaching his cheeks. 

“I just-, how is this is going to change anything?” Watching him as he awkwardly fidgeted with the object in hand. 

“I don’t think it will, but I just need to see it.” He handed it over and you held it for a moment before opening it and nothing could have prepared you for it. 

Well, possibly Sam’s words if he had elaborated more. 

“I-I know it’s kind of weird. I’m sorry I should have asked when I took that photo but you just looked so beautiful like always and I couldn’t help it. I can take it out if it creeps you out too much.” His words trailed off on a mumbling mess as he was afraid he scared you off. 

Even more than before. 

“I thought you said Peggy’s photo was in it. Wasn’t it?” This time you were the one getting closer as you pushed back the wet hair away from his face, probably from the shower he’d taken not long after he came back. 

“She was, but then I fell in love with you.” He leaned into your touch as both of your hands cradled his face. 

“You’re my person. My soulmate. My home. I used to be so angry for so long because I had lost everything I ever loved, but it was all just leading me here. Right in this moment with you.” 

You could’ve died happy right then, because the man of your dreams was confessing just on how much he loved you, again. 

“Steven Grant Rogers?” You watched as his eyebrows furrowed at the mention of his full name. “Don’t you ever stop loving me. Ever.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He needed nothing more until he was locking his lips with your own. Commanding dominance from the start, causing you to whimper in response. 

His skillful tongue sliding into your mouth, causing you to moan even more when he picked you up carrying you into his bedroom. 

Before you even realized it, he was recklessly threw you on his bed as he stripped himself down to his boxers. His washboard abs and bulging muscles on full display. 

In a flash, he was right back on you worshipping your body, turning you into a moaning mess. 

Hiking up your red silky dress until it rested on your hips, your pretty pussy glistening already and he had barely touched you. 

Without warning, he slipped two fingers into your warm heat watching as your head flew back. “Oh fuck, daddy.” 

The words went straight to his cock as he pumped his finger in and out of you, leaving you begging for me. 

“Oh, you like when Daddy’s fucking you with his fingers?” You nodded, unable for anything but moaning his name while he added another finger in you. You're hips moving uncontrollably as he was eye level with you. 

Using his free hand, he gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him. “I want you to look at me when you come, princess.” With one swift moment, his thumb rubbed over your clit and you lost it. 

Hearing you cry out beneath him as he pushed you over, screaming out his name as he continued to fuck your through the high. 

“I need to milk your cock, Daddy. I need you to fill me up with your fucking cum.” He threw his boxers to the wind as he let you maneuver yourself on top. 

“C’mon, princess. Let me see you bounce on my cock. Show me how bad you need my cum.” You surely didn’t need to be told twice. 

Grabbing his hard cock by the tip, before rubbing over the tip and a few times before letting yourself to sink down until you bottomed out. 

“You’re so fucking big. Shit.” But Steve didn’t let you take a breather for a moment until he was fucking up into you. Letting you know who was in complete control. 

Until your hands found his hips and you used all your strength to pull almost all the way off of him before sinking roughly on his cock. 

“Shit, princess.” As you whimpered you pushed yourself to bounce on his cock, no matter how much pain came with pleasure.  

“Look at those tits, princess. You’re so fucking hot fucking yourself on Daddy’s cock. Such a good girl.” But then he flipped over pulling himself out of you before manhandling you on all fours. 

Smoothing a hand over your spine, “You’re being such a good girl for Daddy. Let me take care of you.” Wrapping his hand around his thick, cock before finding your slick lower lips. 

Rubbing the tip of cock along your folds, watching your body tremble before him. “Daddy, please.” You whined like a spoiled brat, begging for attention. 

He’d break you of that later. 

But now? He cock was practically dying for a release. 

He slowly pushed himself into you, watching as your ass inches towards him more. Then, he was slamming himself into you so roughly you couldn’t fucking breathe. 

Grabbing you by the hips, he fucked into you like his life depended on it. Admiring you as you took everything you gave him. The second climax hits you more quickly than you thought. 

Steve grabs wraps his arm around you, pulling you up with his cock still thrusting up inside you — chasing his own high. 

“I’m going to need you to cum with me, princess.” As he fucked into, your chest against his own and as you heard the slapping of his balls hitting your ass. 

“Daddy, I can’t. It’s too much.” You shook your head, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

“Milk me, Sweetheart. I’m dying to fill you up baby. Let me cum in this tight pussy.” His fingers finding your clit, sending you over the edge. 

“Yes. Jesus Christ. Don’t fucking stop.” He continued to fuck you senseless as you came. 

“Shit, baby girl. I’m cumming.” Slamming himself hard than before as continued to fuck you into oblivion, his seed filling you up until you the both of you collapsed falling into his soft sheets. 

The two of you just stayed there for a while with his cock buried deep beneath you. Soon, enough he pulled out leaving you empty. 

He jumped out of bed before comping with a wet rag to clean you up, before pulling you into his chest. 

“Okay, I think I might have a Daddy kink.” Making Steve laugh, slightly. 

“Yeah, maybe just a little bit sweetheart, not that I’m complaining.” 

#omfg this is so ROUGH #but i havent written in like 2 months #so at least we did it! #heck yeah :') #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #stever rogers smut #steve rogers fan fiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #m.writes #happyhoelentinesday2021

[jobean12-blog]

You and Me

Pairing: Winter Soldier x reader

Word Count: 810

Summary: You spend a quiet but beautiful Valentine’s Day with your soldier (imagine they are living in the cottage pictured in the moodboard in Romania or somewhere similar :)

Author’s Note: This is for the Hoelentine’s Day Challenge and my amazing giftee @drabblewithfrannybarnes This was such a wonderful and fun idea and I’m so happy to be able to participate, thank you so much @drabblewithfrannybarnes @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares for hosting and I hope you love this story! Thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ My amazing divider is by my lovely friend @imerdwarf and I made the moodboard :) The Russian words are translated as follows (I hope Google haha)- printsessa: princess and moya lyubov’: my love. The quote used is by Pavana

Warnings: sweet soft fluff, implied smut but it’s soft (18+ only please)

It’s only by the light of the moon that you can see the blue of his eyes, open and awake. You don’t bother with words, simply curling yourself into his body and letting him feel the steady beat of your heart.

You’re not sure how long you both lay together, limbs entwined and skin touching. His metal fingers ghost along your jaw before his lips press to yours in a barely there kiss. He needs you and you’re thankful because you need him just as much.

Your body comes alive at the simple brush of his fingers and your whispered words for more are his undoing. He’s gentle tonight, taking his time to worship every dip and curve of your body. Languid movements and sweet words bring you over the edge more than once.

By the time you awake in the morning the sun is already high in the sky and the spot next you is empty and cool. You stretch out like a cat, your nose instantly perking up when you catch the sweet scent of your favorite breakfast.

Grabbing your robe, you head to the kitchen and quietly stand in the doorway to watch as he prepares the food. He knows you’re there. He looks over his shoulder with a soft smile, the one he reserves just for you before continuing to coat the bread in the custard.

“It smells amazing in here,” you say quietly, walking over to the counter and wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my printsessa. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says. “It’s almost done.”

The sunlight streams in through the small window by the sink and dances off the metal plates in his arm, creating small squares of rainbow colors along the wall. You press your fingers to the space and giggle as the rainbow shimmers along your skin.  

You release him and place a soft kiss to his cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day. Can I do anything to help?” you ask.

With a light tsk he points to the chair at the table and you turn to look. Fresh wildflowers are in the vase at the center and the table is set for two.

“These are so beautiful. Where did you find them?” you ask, leaning over to smell the fragrant petals.

“I went out early this morning and found them while I was picking the strawberries,” he tells you.  “They reminded me of you.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and your own brightens before you sit and take note of all his attention to detail. The fresh strawberries are set just so on a lovely plate, each one cut with precision and care and a small bowl of fresh cream sits next to them. Your champagne flute is filled to the top with your favorite breakfast mimosa and a strawberry rose rests delicately on the rim.

As your eyes continue to scan the table you see a small note set beside his plate and you reach over.

“Not yet, moya lyubov’,” he says, walking over and placing two perfect looking pieces of French toast on your plate.

Your mouth waters but you wait for him to sit before digging in, your satisfied moans causing him to lightly chuckle.

When you’re done eating and the table is cleared he slides his metal hand toward you, the note tucked neatly underneath. You brush your fingers over his before taking the note and carefully unfolding the paper. His scribbled handwriting fills the small page, and you begin to read.

“I have an entire forest living inside me and you have carved your initials into every tree.”

Your eyes are blurry with tears as you read one of the sentences for the third time and your hands shake while they grasp the paper.

“It’s so beautiful,” is all you manage to utter. You stand and take the two small steps to his chair. Crawling into his lap you lay your head on his shoulder and sigh as he wraps his arms around your body.

“I love you,” you whisper into his neck before your mouth trails over his stubbled jaw to his lips.

He murmurs the same words in the small space between you and carefully lifts you to sit on the table. With a softness that contradicts his strength he unties your robe and lets it fall to the sides. You gasp when he begins to trail kisses up your calf, following with feather light touches of his fingertips.

Spreading your legs wider his lips meet your inner thigh, the delicate skin like silk under his calloused hands.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he whispers just before dipping his tongue between your legs.

Your answer is lost on your parted lips as you comb your fingers through his long hair and pull him closer.

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @loricameback @lookiamtrying @la-cey @fxckbuckyscoming @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @tuiccim @the-wayward-robot​ @white-wolf1940 @lizette50​

#winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader fluff #winter soldier x you #happyhoelentinesday2021 #the winter soldier #winter soldier x reader smut #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier drabble #winter soldier fanfic #bucky barnes #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier smut #valentine's day

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

Ransom’s Hallmark Moment

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 4300

Warnings: Language, drinking, smut including unprotected sex (imagine that birth control), Ransom's bad attitude and Ransom being soft (what?!)

A/N: written for the Hoelentine's Day Challenge hosted by @chrissquares @amythedvdhoarder and @drabblewithfrannybarnes

My giftee is Heather @hevans-angel and I hope I've been able to fulfill some of your wishes you sweet lady!

So much appreciation for @stargazingfangirl18 and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me and being so supportive and creative! Now, on to the fic!

Aside from the date on the calendar, it feels like a typical Sunday. You got a lot done around the house, allowed yourself some time to relax and baked enough for a small army. Wiping the last of the crumbs away, you proudly look over the pile of treats ready to be given out the next day at work - all sweet and sprinkled and festive in pink and red. Spending the day baking, relaxed and comfortable with old episodes of ‘Bewitched’ on for company is just what you needed before starting another week. Plus, you aren't really alone. There's always Andy.

The wind suddenly blows hard, shaking the windows. You glance outside at the darkened sky, noticing the heavy sheets of snow falling to the ground.

“Shit,” you hiss, making your way to the back door and opening it, “Andy!”

You wait a moment and shout again, “Andy! Come on in!” followed by a series of whistles.

Nothing.

“Oh no, no no please no, not again,” you whine, heading back into the kitchen to find your phone already ringing. You scrunch up your face in a grimace as you answer as sweetly as possible, “Hello?”

“Missing something?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, I was just about to call you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s here of course. If you don’t get here soon, I might call animal control.”

“You always say that, Ransom, but I know you like him. I’ve seen the water bowl and that old tennis ball by the front walkway.”

“That’s from the housekeeper.”

“Mmhmm, sure. You know I’ll be right there. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are, see you soon angel.”

You scoff at the nickname. He’s always using a sweet one on you, while calling your dog something far less endearing like hellhound, or fleabag, or even Cujo. The first time he said that one, you looked over at your Lab/Husky mix, with his ears perked at attention and tongue lolling out from his dopey dog smile and laughed like you hadn’t in a long time.

Ransom was less amused.

For some reason, when you moved to the little cottage house set back into the woods, your dog decided to treat himself to adventures which almost always ended with him in front of the wall of windows at Ransom’s home smearing his nose, and drool and mud all over the panes of glass. 

That first pickup was not encouraging. You’d been out searching and going down the long driveways of your neighbors to search until you found him at Ransom’s, sitting and thumping his tail against the ground and staring at Ransom through the window, who for his part, stood with his arms crossed and scowling down at your dog.

That was the first time he told you to keep him contained or he’d call animal control. 

You gave him your number, begging him to call you instead if it happened again. After a few weeks the promise of calling animal control was more of a joke than a threat.

Half the time you were already on your way over, having noticed the dog had taken off, but the other half, it was a grumpy call from Ransom, complaining about being harassed by some wild beast. Apparently the ability to spin a tale was a family trait.

By the time you got there, Andy would usually be tired out from his little journey and be waiting for you to leash him, allowing you and Ransom to get caught up in conversation. And so began an awkward-sometimes tense-sometimes flirty almost-friendship with the man. You were equal parts grateful and pissed at Andy, because of course he would go out of his furry little way to make an ass of you in front of the most handsome man you’ve seen in real life. Tall, broad-shouldered, stoic and reserved, plus cocky to top it all off - the man was checking boxes left and right.

Weeks later, Ransom was still those things, but also sarcastic, witty, a bit playful and very charming when he was in the mood. You caught the appreciative looks he gave your body when you approached (not that he really tried to hide them), and you allowed yourself moments to linger on his features as well. Your little conversations on his front walkway almost always turned flirty, at least until Andy made his impatient presence known by tugging at the leash or barking to get your attention. 

You pack up some cookies, cupcakes, and truffles you made to make some sort of peace offering, grab the leash, and head out to retrieve your little trouble-maker. The thick, wet flakes are heavy, and make the journey down the wood-lined roads slower than usual.

You pull up, squinting through the falling snow, unable to see Andy in his usual spot. You see Ransom walk through the house and to the door, waving you inside, so you hurry from the car, head ducked down to try to avoid the chill and wedge your way in, shaking away the snow once you feel the warmth inside.

“He’s in my garage,” he tells you in lieu of an actual greeting, moving away as you shake off the snow.

“What? You let him inside?”

“Not inside-inside, but yeah. I know better than to leave a pet out in that. Christ. And you know, I keep telling you, princess if you want to see me, you don’t have to keep sending that mutt over as an excuse.”

“Yeah, sure. But what a waste of all that training,” you quip back. It’s almost a routine at this point.

You roll your eyes when he gives you an over exaggerated, proud smile. You immediately want to roll your eyes again because of how good that stupid smile looks on him, too. Your gaze can’t help but travel up and down the length of him, long legs, slim hips that go up to those broad shoulders, all encased in a heavy sweater...with holes torn at the lower hem and at the stomach.

Without thinking, you rush forward to grab the frayed yarn cringing at the idea of needing to replace the expensive garment, “Oh no, did he do this? I know he gets jumpy when he’s excited.”

“No, he didn’t,” he wipes at the front of this stomach. “It’s fine. It’s just like that.”

He can’t even say anything else before you start with more apologizing and rambling, “I am so, so sorry. I swear I only left him out there for a few minutes so he could play in the snow, and he’s been so good. And here,” you thrust the package at him, “I made some food and I hope you have a sweet tooth, and I know it doesn’t make up for the inconvenience and-”

“What’s this?” he asks, shaking it slightly and breaking up your word vomit.

“Uh, it-it’s just like some cookies and stuff that I made.”

“What for?”

“For Valentine’s Day. I made a bunch of stuff because at work we’re doing a thing tomorrow, so-”

“No, I mean why are you giving these to me?”

“Oh,” you hadn’t thought you would need to explain, “Um, neighborly kindness? Gratitude? Because it’s Valentine’s Day?”

“Huh. Does this make you my Valentine?” He laughs and turns on his heel, walking away toward where you can see is the kitchen area. 

“For some reason, you don’t strike me as the sweet and cuddly Valentine type,” you call after him, hearing him chuckle in response.

You wait in the foyer for what feels like too long, just listening as he moves around, opens and closes cabinets and goes on like you’re not there. You look around uncertain what you’re expected to do since you usually don’t make it past the doorway until you decide to pull off your boots and hang your jacket over a chair set near the door. You follow the path he made into the kitchen.

“Sooo. Like I was trying to say, I don’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, “I will just grab Andy and head on home.”

“You really wanna drive with that going on?” he gestures to the window. When you look, it’s practically a blizzard and your car is covered in a fresh, thick layer already.

“Shit,” you rub at the side of your face, nervous at the idea of navigating the roads, but just as anxious to not irritate the man staring you down from across the counter. “Not really. Where’s Andy? I wanna check on him.”

He points to a door down the hall. “Garage is through there.”

You make your way through the house with your jaw clenched, unsure with what you might find knowing that Ransom’s not exactly a fan of dogs. So opening the door he pointed to and finding your dog curled up on an old tarp with that familiar worn-out tennis ball, a full water bowl, all cozy and warm inside the otherwise empty garage is not what you expected at all. 

Your dog lifts his head, tail thumping against the floor as you approach, but he seems worn out from his romp through the snow, so you let him settle down after making sure he’s alright and head back to Ransom in the living room. A small smile in place of your grimace from a few moments before.

“The garage is heated,” Ransom tells you from his seat on the couch. “Figured he’d be alright in there. Can’t do much damage.”

“That’s...that’s really great.” You’re caught off-guard by the thoughtfulness of it. “Thanks for setting him up. I’ll just wait until it slows down and head back out, don’t want to mess up any plans you had.”

He laughs at that, hard and loud. “No, in fact you and the mutt gave me the perfect out from a family thing.”

“Oh really, don’t let us keep you.”

“Oh no, I’m too busy being a hero during the snowstorm,” he answers dryly, letting silence hang in the air for a few moments afterward. “Drink?” he offers.

“A hero? That’s the excuse you’re giving them?” You try to wave off the drink offer, but then he points back outside. 

“I think we’ve got some time on our hands. And yeah, makes for a great story, doesn’t it?” he chuckles to himself. 

You glance back to the wall of windows, seeing nothing but swirling white and sighing, “Sure, might as well. But just to let you know, Andy might not be thrilled that you’re using him as an excuse.”

He smiles and gets up from the sofa to pour you each a glass, then turns back and holds yours out to you, “I know a girl, I think she might be willing to put in a good word for me.”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin and sit on the sofa when he does.

A little while goes by and despite the somewhat awkward start to the situation, he’s not bad company. Andy is still content with his set-up, nearly ready to tuck in for the night when you check on him again later. When you return, Ransom’s opened the box of goodies, happily making a dent in the whiskey dark chocolate truffles you piled in there.

“So, you’re sure we’re not interrupting anything? No lady or ladies or even gentlemen you planned to entertain?” You ask as you settle back onto the sofa, closer to the center. Ransom had ignited the fireplace while you were up, dimming the lights and letting the orange flames illuminate the space in front of you.

“Will you drop it already? Nothing aside from the usual family obligation to show up, deal with passive aggressive bullshit, then some outright aggressive bullshit, and watching the show when it all implodes. I am happy to let a pretty girl and her big, messy dog give me an excuse to stay home.”

You laugh, trying to brush off the compliment thrown in there, “Hard to believe you want to miss out on all that. Sounds like a real special time.”

“Very special,” he drawls. He wipes some crumbs off his fingers as he shakes his head before adding, “Trust me this is much better.” He tosses his arm over the back of the couch, letting it fall on your shoulders and force you to lean a bit further into him. 

“Yeah,” you mutter as you look down to your feet and fumble a string of syllables of incomplete words as you try to remind yourself to not read too much into what he’s saying.

“Oh, come on.” He picks up the slack in the conversation when you still don’t manage to say anything else for a few moments, leaning into your space as he breaks the silence. “So, I finally have you all to myself and you’re gonna be shy for me?”

You look up at him, eyes wide and heat rising in your cheeks and chest. “What?”

The hand not wrapped over you reaches out and pushes your chin up, closing your mouth which dropped into an ‘o’ of surprise. His thumb slides up to trace at the pout of your lip.

“Please, baby girl. Neither of us is very subtle. I don’t really do romance, but we’ve got a fire going, we’re stuck in a snowstorm, and I’ve been wanting to get you all to myself since that mutt first showed up over here. If that isn’t some panty-soaking Hallmark crap right there, then I don’t know what is.”

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh right along with you. The tension has shaken loose and your smile is uncontrollable. It’s ridiculous - the scenario, his words, that he can read you so well, that he isn’t wrong. 

“Hard to believe you don’t have women knocking down your door with all that to offer.”

“Just one woman, and her very stupid dog.”

“Hey,” you start in offense, but still move in when he does, smiling into the kiss. It’s chaste and soft for brief seconds before lips part and your tongues meet. His hands waste no time to pull you closer, tugging you along and making you shift on your knees until he pulls you over him to straddle his lap.

You’re grabbing at everything you can, bunching his thick sweater in your hands, then sliding up and down over his shoulders and biceps, appreciating how solid he feels beneath you. Until finally, you rake your fingers into his hair, ruffling it a bit and then grasping it tightly at the crown to pull his head back, drawing a short moan from his throat.

He tilts back into the pull and you lift yourself up higher on your knees to keep your lips together. When your hands finally let go, allowing him to ease the arch of his neck, you take your time sliding your body down against his torso, pushing your core over the hard bulge in his slacks.

“You gotta ride me, baby.” It sounds like an order, not an option.

Yes. You aren’t sure if you say it out loud, but you feel the air leave your lungs in a rush and your body quivers at just the thought. You don’t care if this is quick, or rushed, or frantic - it’s exactly what you want rightfuckingnow.

His palms rest at the edge of your hip bones, fingers spread and digging into your sides and just slightly pushing and pulling you to get some pressure where you feel that he’s hard.

You reach down, covering his hands with yours and pull them up your sides under your sweater, not so much encouraging as demanding that he move things along. He gets with the program quickly and pushes the sweater up, separating your lips long enough to take it off then pulling you back as quickly as he can. His hands find their own way to the clasp of your bra, making quick work of removing it as well and eagerly touching every inch of bare skin.

When you both start to pant, breaths coming out hard and shaky, he moves his lips to tickle the skin on your cheek, down to your jaw, along the curve there and onto your neck. He sucks at the sensitive skin, nibbling and dragging his teeth when he gets focused on a single sensitive spot that makes you whine out loud. 

Your head hangs down to the side, letting him work his way down the column of skin there and sinking into the loose, ragdoll feeling as your body just gives in to every sensation of pleasure. His arms squeeze you against him while he keeps pushing his hips up and into you, teasing you with hints of pressure where you are starting to feel empty and needy.

“Yes,” you gasp, definitely out loud this time. “Yes,” over and over, every time he does something whether it is with his tongue, or his fingers - his blunt nails digging into the sides of your ribs to hold you tightly in place, or the twist of your hips as he lifts his own up against you.

It’s so much, and you’ve only just lost your shirt. It’s not worth waiting anymore. Your mind is set now to just get what you want.

You push away from him. He slowly comes to, eyes glazed and unfocused, a low mutter of “the fuck” slurred from his lips. Before he can reach for you, you lift off him. Your legs are shaky, but you stand as steadily as you can, undoing the button and zipper and pulling down your jeans and panties in a single push.

He watches for a second, then reaches behind him, gripping the neck of his sweater and hauling it up and over his head. He reveals almost exactly what you were hoping for - solid, defined muscles and smooth skin - but there’s more. Hair across his pecs and in a line down the center of his abs, and freckles dotting everywhere on his fair skin. You want to caress and trace every one, run your fingers along imaginary paths and press against him - but it can wait. It’s got to wait.

Impatiently, you kneel, kicking the legs of your pants away and shuffling forward to reach for his belt. His hands settle at his side, flexing, but letting you do what you seem to be compelled to do. You fling the ends of the belt apart and pull at the button and then the zipper, already salivating at the mingling scent of his cologne and sex.

He straightens his hips, lifting from the couch to allow you to shove his boxers and pants down his legs, his cock pulling with them, then bouncing back up once freed. It throbs, slightly bobbing with a rush of arousal and you can’t help but admire the thickness of it, the swollen head that glistens with smeared pre-come.

Heat burns over your skin, and when you look up at Ransom, he’s clearly feeling the same. His cheeks are flushed in patches of pink, his lips red, swollen, and parted as he lets out short, shaky breaths, hair hanging loose and disheveled. It’s more than you hoped for, and it’s disgusting how perfect he looks. 

As much as you want to tease, to keep this view while you swallow him down and taste him, your pussy throbs. You promise yourself again to take more time with him later, to lick and suck and taste him the way you want, but you can’t resist at least a taste. You grab his shaft, leaning in to swallow him deeply - just once - and draw a shocked moan from him before pulling off and pushing up from your knees, humming at the taste of him.

“Damn, princess. I thought I was going to ruin you, but fuck, you’re good.” He reaches forward as you’re moving up, his hand grabbing at the back of your head to guide you. He pulls a bit at your hair when you’re back up to the couch and spreading your thighs wide over his. His free hand reaches between your legs swirling through your wet, sensitive slit and pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit.

“Later,” he promises, “I’m gonna taste your pussy. Gonna lick it all up.” He pulls his hand away and sucks away your juices as they drip down his fingers. The promise is so dirty it makes your breath shake in anticipation. You stare into each others’ eyes, admiring the wreckage between you and moving without guidance to seat yourself on top. 

You gasp when you finally feel the hot, hard line of him pressed against your pussy. It feels so thick, and you’re eager to feel the stretch of him pushing inside. You lock your arms around his neck, pushing your breasts together, nipples peaking as they drag along the coarse hair on his chest. 

The lips of your pussy spread over his cock, coating him with your slick. His cockhead rubs over your clit, making you shudder and suck in stuttering breath, and that’s it. You can’t take it anymore.

“Can I have your cock?” Deep down, you know you don’t really need to ask. 

“Yeah,” he adjusts his hips, scooting himself out a little further to give you more room to settle against him. “You’re gonna fucking ride me, princess. Come all over me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out, high and airy.

He takes one hand off you, using two fingers to angle his cock toward you. You lift up on your knees, tipping your hips until you feel him against your entrance. You pause for a brief second to ready yourself, then sink down, taking him all in at once.

The stretch makes you groan, the static-like buzzing mix of ache and pleasure spreading all over and making you throw your head back and deepen the moan.

He huffs out a few quick breaths. “That’s it, oh that pussy is so good. So fucking good, princess,” he mumbles.

Then his hands are back on your hips, warm against the bare skin and strong when he digs the tips of his fingers in to pull you further down, “This cock filling you up? Huh?”

All you can manage is another high-pitched, “Uh-huh,” while you start to roll your hips, barely lifting as you shift back and forth to grind against him, your walls still squeezing him tight.

“Come on, let go, baby,” he whispers, his mouth tight against your ear. Your arms loosen their grip around his neck and you place your hands instead on the muscles flexing at the tops of his shoulders. 

You move your knees to get them comfortable and then finally push yourself off him, sliding and gasping as you feel the head of his cock catching just at your entrance again, and after another silent beat, you slide back down, taking his hard length again.

With the space given, he dips his mouth to your breasts, swirling and suckling at your nipples, Harsh, fast sucks followed by quick nips when he catches the hard peaks in between his teeth until you gasp and moan. Only then does he switch it up, his tongue gently rolling over the bud, soothing the stinging ache.

All the while you roll your hips and the burn, the push, the fullness of him inside you is drugging. Your eyes fall closed as you focus on the steadily growing tingle low in your belly.

You start to chase it with slow, dragging strokes, easing up only to drop down and have him bottom out deep inside. It builds fast, making your thighs burn and knees ache as you try to keep your position; one knee has managed to wedge into the corner of the couch and the rhythm needed to build your orgasm conflicts with the concentration needed to keep yourself steady.

“Just take it, babygirl. I got you,” he whispers, feeling your body getting tired on top of him.

He shifts his legs, placing his feet on the ground and pushing up into you, letting you settle on his lap and rock yourself forward and back while his cock stays buried in you. He adjusts his hands to rest just at your tailbone, pressing you steadily against him and giving the pressure needed to your clit when you press against his pubic bone.

Cries start to escape from you, first quiet and breathy, but then building as the air gets pushed out in hard breaths. Your body inches closer and closer to that release, your body hot and burning and there’s a slight moment of too much just before it hits...and then it’s rushing over you - all liquid fire and bliss. You clamp down over him, legs straining over the tight muscles of his thighs.

He pushes up into you, his hands pressing harder at the middle of your back to keep you moving through your release as he works to find his. He hisses through clenched teeth, broken praises coming out on hard breaths.

“Yeah...There...Righthere...God...Fuck.”

When he curls into you, nails digging into your soft skin and breathing heavy against your chest, you know he’s right there.

“Come for me,” you whisper.

“God - yeah!” With one final, hard thrust, he does. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you when he releases, his hips jerking up slightly to keep pushing into you while the tense features of his face soften with relief.

For a moment it’s nothing but panting breaths and the racing beat of your pulse in your ears. Then it’s slow, dragging hands across naked skin and muscle, soothing the tense muscles and tickling sensitive spots and whispering praise to the man beneath you while he hugs you tight to him.

His voice is low and quiet as he asks, “Is the mutt gonna be mad that I stole his Valentine?” 

“You like me,” you smile against his neck and tease him with a sing-song voice, “And you like my dog.”

“I like you,” he agrees. “The dog’s okay, too.”

“Does that mean Andy should come harass you again on Friday night?”

“I’ll even get a dog-sitter.” He says with a smirk. “Let him know that 7 would be good.”

Tags: @jtargaryen18 @ozarkthedog @wi-deangirl77 @angrythingstarlight @donutloverxo @navybrat817 @saiyanprincessswanie  @sweeterthanthis @sagechanoafterdark @tuiccim 

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale fanfiction #knives out fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale imagine #valentine's day #soft!ransom drysdale #ooc ransom #he's soft for his girl #that's just how it goes

[the-iceni-bitch]

My Body Aches to Breathe Your Breath

Pairing: serial killer!Charles Blackwood

Words: another mobile guess, ~2k

Summary: Charles is sick of you upsetting his plans, and now he has to spend Valentines Day with you.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex), mentions of murder and descriptions of side effects from long term poisoning, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: my second gift for @drabblewithfrannybarnes @chrissquares and @amythedvdhoarder’s Happy Hoelentines Day 2021 challenge!! My giftee was @literate-lamb and she requested a Valentines Day themed serial killer fic, so I figure Charles Blackwood would be a perfect fit. There’s nothing too dark in this one, just mentions of death and descriptions of poisoning symptoms, but please be mindful anyways! I hope you all enjoy, and have a happy holentines!!!

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

Charles watched you like a hawk from the giant window in the bedroom.

You’d just come back from your afternoon ride, your hair tousled and your breath coming in shallow pants as you dismounted. You removed your riding gloves and tucked them into your belt as you handed the reins to the stable hand, giving your mare an affectionate pat on the nose before turning to head inside.

He’d been obsessed with you ever since you came to stay with your aunt, his wife, six months ago. Your easy grace and poise cut by a wicked tongue that endeared you to him immediately.

It was worrisome. He would have typically moved on by now; your aunt had already changed her will, and he’d started slipping the thallium into her evening drinks ever since then. But every time he got close to administering that final dose, the dose that would finally free him from his seventh false marriage, the thought of leaving you staid his hand.

He was determined to finish it tonight. Finally put the old bitch out of her misery, and on Valentines Day no less. She let out a pained groan from the bed behind him and he rolled his eyes before turning to give her a sickeningly sweet smile, full of false sympathy.

“Do you want me to call the doctor back here, my love?” Charles murmured, doing his best to look lovingly at the creature in front of him.

“No darling, he’s no help. Just, help me to the bathroom please.”

He felt his stomach churn at the thought, but bent to help her stand anyways. Your aunt wasn’t beautiful by any means when Charles first met her, but now she looked ghastly; a rattling mess of skin and bones whose hair was falling out in clumps. Charles couldn’t believe his luck that the doctor hadn’t thought to do any tests for poisoning or he would’ve been fucked.

“Oh no, Auntie!” You cried as you flowed into the room. “Is it your stomach again?”

“Yes dear.” She let out in a pained sigh, leaning heavily on Charles’ arm as she hobbled through the bathroom door, collapsing in front of the toilet and heaving.

It was all he could do not to run out of the room. His own stomach was roiling as he did his best to ignore your aunt, turning his gaze to you instead.

You moved from where you were leaning on the wall to come help; not rushing, but gliding past Charles at a smooth pace. Your hand brushed his arm as you moved past him and made him suck in a breath.

He watched you kneel beside the pathetic creature and you gave him a sad smile as you held back the little hair she had left and stroked her back soothingly. You were the embodiment of life and vigor next to your dying aunt, and all he wanted to do was shove her aside and fuck you senseless.

You’d been teasing him for weeks, and he couldn’t tell if you were doing it on purpose or not. Whether it was just a lingering look with a wicked grin or tracing your fingers absentmindedly on his thigh while you chatted, it seemed like every action you took was specifically geared to drive him crazy.

Now you were bent over your aunt making soft cooing noises, but the angle you were at gave Charles a view right down the front of your blouse. He felt his cock twitch in his slacks as he stared at the valley between your breasts, and fought to swallow a moan.

“Charles, dear, I don’t think I’ll be able to join you for the lovely dinner you have planned for us. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that I’m forcing you to spend Valentines Day on your own, but you can see that I’m in no shape for romance.”

“Darling, I don’t care about Valentines Day, I’d much rather take care of you.” He said through gritted teeth, trying to move his thoughts away from all the filthy things he wanted to do to you.

“I’ll be fine, I just need to rest. Darla can bring me my tea this evening, you should take some time for yourself. You’ve done so much for me. I just wish you didn’t have to be by yourself.”

“Aww, don’t worry, Auntie. My date canceled and I’d be happy to keep Charles company for the evening.” You murmured as you helped her back to the bed, giving Charles a grin and a wink over your shoulder.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Not about your date but I’m so glad my two favorite people will at least have each other.” Your aunt sighed as you pulled the blankets over her. “Please have Darla bring me my tea darling, then I’ll sleep.”

Charles’ jaw clenched as he bent to give her a soft peck in the forehead before moving to the doorway.

“Just give me a few minutes to wash up and I’ll be right down.” You said, still beaming at him as you sauntered away, your hips swinging suggestively in your riding boots.

He swallowed a groan before turning towards the kitchen running a hand over his face as he did his best to school his thoughts.

He set the kettle on the stove and chewed his lip in frustration. He should’ve been long gone by now, living off your aunt’s fortune on some tiny Greek island. But here he was, thinking of nothing but going up to your room and tearing all your clothes off then fucking you until you were begging him to let you cum.

The tea kettle let out a high whistle and he removed it quickly, pulling your aunt’s favorite tea off the shelf and placing a sachet in a cup before pouring boiling water over it. He pulled the amber vial out of his pocket and gazed at it before pulling the stopper and emptying it into the cup.

He placed the cup on a tray along with a single rose and called Darla into the kitchen, instructing her to bring the cup to your aunt before moving to the dining room and pouring himself a drink. He downed his first glass of bourbon in one shot, bringing the bottle with him as he sank into the chair at the head of the table.

He had already finished three drinks by the time you swept into the dining room, and he swallowed a moan when he saw you. You were wearing a burgundy dress that billowed behind you, its slit going almost up to your hip.

“Hope you don’t mind me dressing up.” You beamed at him. “Figured I should get some use out of this dress.”

“It’s fine.” He said, wincing at the crack in his voice that he hoped you didn’t notice before taking another gulp of bourbon.

You gave a light laugh before moving to the bar and pouring yourself a glass of rose. He watched you as you turned back to him, giving him a wink as you sat down in the seat beside him.

“So, what’re we eating?” You said after taking a sip of wine, watching him squirm under your gaze as the staff brought out the appetizers. “Ooh, oysters.”

He had to pour himself another drink as he watched you reach across the table to serve yourself. He almost choked as he watched you swallow your hors d’ouevres in one gulp, humming your satisfaction as you reached for another.

“Good?” He asked as he watched you swallow again, his cock twitching as he thought about your lips wrapped around him.

“So good. You gonna eat or just watch me?” You teased as you leaned back in your chair, taking a swig of wine.

He chuckled before taking an oyster for himself. His eyes never left yours as he scooped the meat from the shell with his tongue and swallowed thickly.

You tittered into your drink before looking over your shoulder as the staff brought in the next course.

“Jesus Christ, lamb? You trying to get in my pants, Charles?” You teased before taking a bite. “Fuck me, that’s fantastic.”

“That language typically work for you, darling?” He said, shaking his head as he tucked into his own meal.

“You tell me, sweetheart. You’re the one who can’t stop staring at me.” You teased, laughing as he spluttered around his food.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said after taking a drink of water, trying his best to avoid making eye contact with you now.

“Sure you don’t.” You said with an eye roll, moving your focus back to your food.

The two of you finished the meal without any more conversation. Charles did his best to ignore the small sounds of pleasure you kept making, little hums and sighs escaping from you as you enjoyed your food. He had drunk almost half of the bottle of bourbon by the time the staff came to clear the table.

He was about to stand up to leave when they came back into the room with the dessert and he cursed under his breath.

“Well, well. You sure know how to treat a lady, Mr. Blackwood.” You teased as you accepted a champagne cocktail, taking a sip as you winked at him suggestively. “Look at all this chocolate.”

You popped a truffle into your mouth and let out a moan that was almost pornographic, your eyes rolling back into your skull dramatically.

“You need to try some of these Charles.” You said as you wrapped your lips around a strawberry.

“I don’t have that much of a sweet tooth.” He said as he watched you slurp the juices from your lips.

“Aww, c’mon, just a taste.”

He didn’t have a chance to respond before you had moved to sit on the table in front of him, grabbing another strawberry and holding it in front of his mouth. He parted his lips and gazed up at you through his lashes as you pressed the strawberry against his tongue. You bit your lip as he took a bite and moved your foot to rest between his thighs.

“What’re you doing?” He asked as his gaze ran over your leg where it had escaped from the slit of your skirt.

“I think you know.” You murmured, scooting even closer to him. “I’ve seen you watching me.” You moved your foot to hook under the armrest of his chair and dragged him towards you. “I’m gonna tell you a secret. I never even had a date tonight.”

He tried to stand up to leave and you pressed your stilettoed foot to his chest, pinning him to his seat as his breath started coming in ragged gasps. You tutted you’re disappointment at him as you leaned back on your hands.

“You need to stop fighting it, baby.” You murmured as you twisted your toe into his shirt. “I know there’s no way my poor sick aunt has been taking care of your needs. When’s the last time anyone aside from you touched that cock?”

“Fuck.” He hissed as your foot moved to press into the bulge that was forming at the front of his slacks. “We shouldn’t.”

“Oh, I think we should.” You moaned as you tossed your skirt over your other leg and spread your thighs, bringing a hand to run over the soaked lace that covered your core. “I’m so fucking wet for you, baby. Don’t you want a taste?”

He growled at you before digging his fingers into your hips and running his teeth over the inside of your thigh. You let out a whine as his fingers moved under the straps of your panties and ripped them off you before diving between your legs.

You wrapped your fingers in his hair as he ran his tongue over your slit in a heavy stripe, moaning against your entrance as he finally tasted you. He lapped at your greedily, slurping up your arousal with a series of obscene sounds. His hands dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he ate you out, drawing bruises.

Your arms collapsed when he thrust his tongue inside you, massaging your canal with the thick muscle as you writhed against his face and whimpered. His lips brushed against your clit as he tongue fucked you and you tugged on his hair until it was almost painful.

“Shit, don’t stop.” You muttered as his lips wrapped around your clit and you felt your pussy clench around nothing. “I’m right there.”

He held your hips down as he sucked your pearl into his mouth and you let out a shriek. Your back tried to arch back on itself as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you, your release flowing over Charles’ mouth as your thighs clamped around his head.

You were panting heavily when you finally released him, your muscles still occasionally spasming with aftershocks as he undid the fly of his slacks before yanking you off the table until you were straddling his lap and leaned against his shoulder, your legs spread wide over his thighs as he ran his teeth over the curve of your neck.

“I’m sick of you teasing me darlin’.” He growled into your hair as he ripped the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders, exposing your breasts and bringing his hands up to tweak your nipples to the point of pain. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you. Thinking there’s no consequences to your actions.”

You yelped as he slipped a hand between your legs and slapped your pussy, making you throb with with need before letting out a low moan. His teeth sank into your shoulder as he drew his cock from his slacks and teased it against your entrance before spearing into you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one quick motion.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” He murmured before he started to move his hips, driving up into you in slow, fluid thrusts that had him dragging against every angle of your canal. “God, you feel even better than I imagined.”

You rested your hands on his knees and tossed your head back as his mouth moved down to your breasts and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, rolling it between his tongue and teeth as his hands dug into your waist. Your back arched into his mouth as you sighed, your cunt clenching around him as he moved to your other nipple and rolled it through his teeth.

He groaned against your chest as your breath hitched, a coil starting to tighten in your abdomen as heat spread from your core. You squeezed him with your thighs as he brought you closer and closer, your nails digging into his knees.

“C’mon pretty girl, give it to me.” He ordered you, gazing up at you through his lashes as you let out a thin whine. “This pussy’s squeezing me so good. I wanna feel you cum.”

You swallowed a scream as your torso rolled against his as the coil in your abdomen snapped violently. He wrapped his arms around you to hold you in place as your vibrated against him, your pussy fluttering around him as your released flowed out of you and soaked the front of his slacks.

Charles hooked his hands under your knees and drew them over his shoulders, his cock hitting you at an even deeper angle that made you whine. He brought a hand between you and started to strum his thumb against your clit.

Your arms almost collapsed as he wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you. You moved your hands to grip his forearms desperately as another orgasm threatened to rip through you. His cock twitched inside you as you clenched around him sporadically, making him groan.

“Fuck, are you cumming again already?” He asked as your fingers gripped him painfully, striving for something to anchor you as he pushed you over the edge with a final drive of his hips and a press of his thumb against you.

You let out a wordless cry as a wave of pleasure wracked you, your body trying to fold in on itself as you fluttered around him. He let out a hiss as his hips stuttered and his cock twitched inside you before his spend filled you up, mixing with your release and leaking out of you in a thick mess.

“Jesus fuck.” You muttered as you unfolded yourself, resting your head against his shoulder as he panted into your hair. He drew your face to his and brushed his lips against yours before pressing them to you desperately, his tongue slipping between your teeth and tangling with yours.

“Run away with me.” He said, his eyes gazing into yours as he pleaded with you, his tongue running over his kiss swollen bottom lip.

“Did you finally use that little vial you’ve been carrying around, babe?” You asked as you gave him a wicked grin. “Cuz I don’t really feel like having my aunt chase after us.”

“It’s done.” He said, not fully registering the fact that you not only knew what he had been planning, but that you had done nothing to stop him. He was too intoxicated with you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, stealing the breath from his lungs as he dug his hands into your waist. He groaned when you pulled away from him, drawing the sleeves of your dress back over your shoulders to cover your breasts.

“I’ll go pack.” You said bending to give him a quick peck before leaving to head back to your room. You left Charles on his own to tuck himself back into his slacks, and dream about starting a new life with you.

Tags!

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#natalie writes #happyhoelentines2021 #charles backwood #charles blackwood smut #charles blackwood x y/n #charles blackwood x you #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood #serial killer!au #poison #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #smut #eighteen and over #do not interact if you are a minor #happyhoelentine'sday2021 #happyhoelentinesday2021 #happyhoelentine's

[literate-lamb]

can I kiss you on the dancefloor?

Steve Rogers/Reader

One year into a relationship, yet still dancing in secrecy. Steve thinks he’s protecting you.

When a civilian and a hero fall in love, anything could go wrong. But not in the way Steve would have thought.

Or how the media play with the lives of superheroes.

►word count: 7.6k

► warnings(!): slight angst, alcohol

A/N: My gift to @blue-like-barnes for the Hoelentines Fic Exchange! I’m sorry it took some time, giftee. I didn’t expect this to turn into a monster (yikes). Thank you for hosting @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes ! Dividers from @firefly-graphics​ and GIF from Giphy

On his day-offs, Steve Rogers was a man full of disguises. 

When they first started, it was the baseball cap and thick-rimmed glasses. He liked it, it was simple, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone would notice. How could one not when his face was the one plastered in old war propaganda, in the museums commemorating his achievements, and even flashes on the telly when you walk past the local electronics store. 

Hence, it wasn’t a surprise when the tabloids posted a photo of him in his disguise, waiting at a crosswalk on a cold night. 

‘Captain America spotted on a midnight stroll’ came the next morning. It was taken after he was done walking you home, thankful they didn’t catch a glimpse of you.

“So capsicle, where were you off to last night?” Tony greeted him at breakfast, offending paper in hand. He unrolled it, opening and making a show of reading, displaying the front page for all seated to see. “Nice reading glasses, wasn’t aware you needed them.”

Striding into the room, Natasha came and snatched the tabloid. She gave it a critical eye, judging, before turning towards him. 

“Hmm, recycling disguises, Rogers? I’m disappointed.” 

Steve just groaned in reply.

The second time it happened, he had gone to the Black Widow herself for advice. He had expected sound advice coming from a former KGB spy who spent her paycheck on hair, but all he got was a stick-on mustache. Something about ‘needing to blend in rather than pointing the obvious’.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Steve, but at least it’s better than that nerd get-up,” she smirked.

You had liked it. Giggling every time he kissed you, the fibres tickling your lips. He had ‘a caterpillar’ on his upper lip as you called it. And Steve had learned to get used to the itch.

But it wasn’t long before his new look was the star in barbershops. 

‘Captain America’s new look takes the world by storm.’ They had caught him again in another paparazzi shot. Tony had teased him for days after.

He couldn’t shake it off easily, constantly reminded of it when he walked the streets. Seeing them on screens when he’s channel-surfing. Even when he’s training new recruits, his vision filled with a sea of unshaved cadets, their hairy upper lips a prominent fixture.

He knew he had to do something when Bucky and Sam came in one day sporting twin mustaches. 

He discarded the strip of fibre in the bin. Reminding to pay Natasha a visit.

The third time he decided, he seeked out the help of Scott Lang, who was a master in keeping out of sight during his burglary days. Scott had given him a black beanie and told him to grow out his facial hair. 

The beanie hid his golden locks and the beard made him look rugged. You loved it, your thighs quivered when it was him and you in the four walls of your room. Uncontrollable groans as he went down. ‘Beard burn’ you had called it. Whatever it was, he loved the sounds you let out.

Four months. That’s how long the disguise lasted. His longest disguise to date. 

Before he became a trend.

‘Captain America is the new style icon.’ The internet sleuths found out where he got it too. ‘The sale of Walmart beanies skyrocketed by 70% thanks to Captain America.’

Tony had bought everyone in the compound a black beanie for Christmas, including the receptionist.

“Our grandpa’s a trendsetter, who knew,” he announced. Steve had smacked the back of Tony’s head with the beanie before retiring the disguise.

Now, sitting in The Sleeping Cat, Steve had opted for aviators and a Nasa baseball cap. He still kept his beard after your pleads, and he liked the look, he admits. It was back to basics for him and this was one of the only places where he was safe from prying eyes. Afterall, it was in this very café where he had met you.

The Sleeping Cat was a quaint little thing, a hole in the wall in a quiet part of the city. Not many knew of its existence, the entrance obscure, a blink and you’ll miss it. Which made it all the more perfect for him. The baristas knew him and minded their own business, offering him a smile every time he visited. ‘You’re safe with us’ they seem to say. 

He could say the same about the patrons. Most that frequented were regulars like him, they seemed the same, looking for a place to get away from the overbearing world. They seemed to share an understanding, paying him no mind as if he was just another man they passed on the streets. And that’s how he preferred it. 

Just a boy from Brooklyn.

Ding!

The chime of the door pulled him out of his thoughts. Facing the door, he saw you, smiling as you came through.

This was the best part of his days. 

You had met Steve Rogers at the most unexpected of times.

Terminated from your previous job at a small gallery, dumped by an ex-boyfriend after a 2 year relationship, you were at an utmost low. To escape your roommates —in case of pitying or prying, but if you were honest with yourself, it was to escape your own humiliation— you left the apartment on weekdays under the guise of going to work. In reality, you were at The Sleeping Cat applying for jobs on your laptop.

It was during one of the afternoon hours when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning to your left, you were greeted by a pair of startling blues. They were bright but worn as if they’ve seen too many. Looking at the bigger picture, you took him in. Hair hidden under a cap, a sharp jaw and an equally sharp nose, and if you looked closely, you thought you could spot a few moles on his cheeks. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put a finger to it.

Eyes fleeting to his lips, you realized he was actually talking.

“Huh?” 

“I was wondering if this seat’s taken?” He smiled, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite. He was clearly amused.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” you nodded, making room for his things. 

The following days, it became a routine and an arrangement. You would be at the café as early as the owner would allow, laptop in hand. While he would come in the afternoons in a different jacket each day, a sketchbook in hand. You would be propped up, sending application after application, praying for luck. While he would quietly sit, churning sketch after sketch, in a relaxed demeanour. 

Sometimes you would peek over your screen and watch him draw for a few minutes, lost in his strokes. When you look up, you’ll find his eyes locked with yours, and you’ll immediately reimmerse yourself behind the screen, embarrassed.

It was a comfortable routine. You came to expect him everyday. And on the days that he didn’t make it, you felt a bit forlorn looking at the empty seat. You both didn’t talk much, yet you were getting comfortable in his presence.

Until one day, he broke the silence.

“So, what is it that you do?”

You stared, dumbfounded. Looking around there wasn’t anyone nearby. 

“Were you talking to me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you’re always on your computer…” he trailed off.

“I’m an assistant curator at an art gallery— or, er, used to be,” you explained. “Long story short, I lost my job and now I’m looking for a new one, that’s why I’m here.”

He seemed to ruminate before replying, “So you know a thing or two about art?”

You both started a new routine; one with a lot of communicating. He would ask you about your mundane weekends and interests and in turn, you would ask about his. Except, he was anything but mundane. 

On the days he was absent, you learned Steve was away on a lot of ��business trips’. When he returned, he had never failed to present you with a souvenir. From matryoshkas to sarongs, it was always a surprise accompanied by a tale.

“The pattern on the sarong is called a batik, and it’s amazing how they’re drawn using wax like a liquid crayon. It’s an interesting art form.”

Outside of your little routine, he was an enigma. You barely knew about the Steve outside of The Sleeping Cat. Sometimes he threw the names ‘Bucky’ and ‘Sam’ a lot —out of exhaustion— without giving away anything, remaining tight-lipped. While his mysteriousness should’ve been a cause of concern, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, wanting to peel more of his layers, like the shell of a matryoshka. 

The routine went on for a few more weeks, with calls of interviews and business trips in between. Before you received a phone call.

“I got a job! At the Whitney!” you squealed, shaking his shoulders over the table, oblivious to the other patrons. Steve endured it, smiling. 

“Congratulations,” he said when you’ve calmed down. “I guess this is the last time I’ll be seeing you?”

You froze, high coming down, realization settling in. After a few weeks of secret meetings, of getting to know him, of having lunch together, of sharing laughs, you’ve come to see Steve as a good friend. And maybe, there was the birth of something more.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” you said, opening your phone. “This way, maybe we can hang out again. Have lunch sometimes?”

“I’d like that.” He smiled. 

And the rest was history.

Making your way towards The Sleeping Cat, you amused yourself with past memories. Memories from almost over a year ago. 

Steve had come to give a speech at the opening ceremony of an exhibition at the Whitney. Your first exhibition as a curator. An exhibition on art from the war times. When they had announced his title, a loud ‘oh’ was the only thing you could muster. 

The ‘ding’ of the bell resounded, announcing your arrival. Heading in, you saw a head perked up, beaming, baseball cap securing his golden locks and aviators hiding his mesmerizing blues.

This was the best part of your days.

But maybe, you were getting a little tired.

If someone were to ask you months ago if you were happy and content with your relationship, you would’ve replied with a swift yes in a heartbeat. No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt. Now, sitting in the same cafe, the same one you frequent on dates, the same one you both met in, you weren’t sure of the answer anymore.

As Steve gets up to order for you both, your eyes wander to his sketchpad. It was filled with sketches of random objects; the flower on the table, the pastries on display, sometimes the patrons of the cafe, and occasionally, you. 

“You’re my favourite subject, so far.”

It was not for the lack of love or the lack of affection. Steve was the most loving; loyal in so many ways, gentle when asked, and protective to a fault. Maybe the protectiveness was the cause of it all.

Staring at Steve’s back, your mind shifted to a memory from the past week, when your roommate pulled you aside from a get-together at the ice rink.

“Hey,” she called your name, taking a hold of your elbow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure, what’s up?” you followed her, leading you to the sides.

Her eyes conveyed her worry. It amplified with the chewing of her bottom lip, a nervous tick.

“Are you and Steve… okay?” she asked, her brows perked. “I’m not sure if you notice, but today, it’s full of couples.” 

You looked towards your group of friends. There was your roommate’s girlfriend tying her skates, your other roommate and her boyfriend talking to another couple —their friends— and they were all holding their significant other’s hand. Oh.

“I don’t want to throw you out of the loop, but there would probably be a lot of double skating involved today,” she said, widening her eyes, looking comical. “Do you want me to talk to Steve? Maybe I could convince him to come, y’know?” 

Out of your two roommates, she was the only one who knew of your paramour. Having walked in on you and Steve making out on the couch. She was sworn into secrecy, with the promise of autographs from all the Avengers. 

“Look, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I can handle skating alone, and you know why he can’t really come here with us,” you shrugged.

“Okay, but aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around? Don’t you want to shout to the whole world ‘I’m fucking Captain America!’” she flailed.

You shushed her, muffling her mouth with your gloved hand.

Part of the secret was how Steven Rogers was an engineered superhero. A superhero with many enemies, leading him to fear for his loved ones, and that included you.

You went into the relationship whole-heartedly knowing the challenges; discreet rendezvous, kisses in the dark, minimal contact in public. You were his secret and he was yours. It was for your own good, wasn’t it?

“What’s got your little head wrapped up?” Steve’s voice startled you, bringing you back to the café. On the table, two cups of coffee and a slice of cake was served.

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking about this party the museum’s throwing this weekend,” you took your cup, blowing, contemplating your next words.“Say, how about you and I, I don’t know, go as dates?”

Steve crunched his brows. “You know that’s a hard thing for me to do, especially with your colleagues around.”

“I know! But maybe… maybe, you can go in one of your disguises this time? Remember that one time we went to Central Park?”

Steve exhaled, he remembered that afternoon. It was the one-off that you both ventured on a date in the outdoors. 

Decked in his beanie, casually strolling through Central Park with you beside him. Although he was still wary, keeping his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to hold your hand. 

No one had recognized him; not the ice-cream man, not the kids running around, not the mothers pushing strollers. No one. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You leaned forward, pecking him on the lips multiple times. “Thank you!”

“You sure this looks convincing?”

“Trust me, punk. Grade A assassin here, thank you very much,” Bucky boasted while fixing the wig on his scalp, untangling the unruly strands.

Steve had sought Bucky for help, with the belief that assassins were good at hiding in plain sight (and maybe, he just didn’t want to go to Natasha twice). Bucky was also his most trusted confidant and he knew about you, Steve trusted him not to tell. But now looking at himself in the opposite mirror, he wasn’t so sure of that anymore. 

Long dangly tresses hung on the sides of his face parting in the middle, a trimmed beard leaving a bit of goatee, and to finish it off, Bucky dressed him in a checkered shirt consisting of random coloured squares. He looked like he just stepped out of the 60’s.

“Oh, wear these,” Bucky handed him a pair of large wire-framed glasses. “Done.”

Steve took a look in the mirror. A seedy pimp was the first thought that crossed his mind.

“Thanks Buck, I owe you one.”

“Sure Stevie, just bring me around next time on one of your dates, I’d like to meet her,” Bucky winked. “Or make it double.” He wagged his brows. “Like old times.”

Steve snorted.

“Okay, I got—“ Steve’s words halted when an alarm blared overhead. It demanded their attention.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, your presence is required in Prep Room six,” called the disembodied voice. “There’s been a breach of extraterrestrial energy in the airspace of Sweden.”

Steve exited and rushed through the hallways, Bucky following close behind. He made it through the living quarters, trudging to the training wing before entering one of the many prep rooms. 

“Nice costume, Cap. Halloween already?” Sam quipped. Almost everyone was present, they were equally amused.

Before anyone else could follow, Tony strided in immediately, grumbling. “Okay team, there’s been an E.T synthezoid putting holes in the ozone layer. I’ll fill you all in the quinjet. Suit up and meet me at the hangover in 10.”

Everybody gathered their equipment and hurried to leave, passing by him. Before Tony could, he took notice of Steve and did a double take. And then a third. 

“What’s with the pimp daddy get-up, Capsicle?” 

Steve huffed, ignoring the jab. “I have something that I need to attend. How important am I in this, Tony?”

“We need all hands on deck. We don’t really know what we’re up against, Fury’s still running recon,” Tony explained, squaring his shoulders. “Whatever it is you have, Cap. It can wait. Lives are at stake here.” With that, he left, not standing by for a response.

“Darn it,” Steve cursed, removing the glasses and the wig.

He left the prep room with his shield in hand. With one hand, he shot a text to you. He’ll make it up next time.

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Emergency mission

Loverboy [6:30 PM]: Can’t make it, sorry

You switched the screen off, sighing. Around you, the party was in full swing. Invitees mingling with refreshments in hand, discussing the pieces on display tonight, and bidding on the pieces they find exquisite. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne were being served, brought around by servers on silver platters. You’ve been munching on them non-stop, grabbing one every time a server comes your way, needing something to occupy you.

Surrounding you, you’d see the occasional couple walking around, enjoying their time. The palms of their hands locked in each other’s as they navigate together, rarely straying afar. 

You clenched your hand, reminded of how empty it felt. 

It was inevitable, you were warned of this, you were told to expect this. Dating a superhero meant that he was never solely yours. You were sharing your boyfriend with someone, except that someone was the world. 

“Hiiii!” a shrill voice broke your thought, calling you by name. A blonde woman, followed by a brunette emerged from the gathering of art-goers, headed towards you. “It’s been a long while!”

“Hey! Yeah, it’s been awhile,” you waved, recognizing the two. 

When they reached you, you were aware of the slight tension in the air, leaving the three of you standing awkwardly. After all, these two were your ex-colleagues and you didn’t exactly leave the previous gallery on good terms. Tonight was a night with masks, it seemed.

“So, how are you two doing?” you decided to get it over with.

“We’re fine, everyone’s fine! But how are you? We heard you worked here now, pretty impressive,” the brunette —Claire— winked at you. You laughed.

“Yeah, it’s so nice seeing you again, and at the Whitney? The pay must be good, you know what I’m saying?” Hilda chimed, knocking her elbows with yours. You didn’t appreciate it but you endured.

 “Say, what are you doing over here far away? Why not you join us over there,” Hilda pointed, towards a mounted canvas at the end of the hall. It was occupied by two men in a discussion among themselves. “Chat a bit to catch up, a bit of art philosophical debate in between. What do you say?”

You contemplated her offer, not wanting to seem pretentious, but thought about the false flattery and ego-stroking that would sure ensue in their company. The thought of it drained you.

“It’s okay,” you waved them off nervously. “I have to call my boyfriend sooner, gotta check up on him and let him know I’m... alright.” You held up your phone, playing on convincing.

“Oh? He isn’t here tonight?” Claire seemed to feign worry. 

“No, he got caught up with something. He’s a busy man,” you cooked up an excuse. No one could know. 

“Okay… In that case, we’ll leave you to it. Maybe we’ll bump into each other sooner.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”

They waved before backing away into the mass of patrons. You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in. 

While the interaction was unexpected, this was what you had to deal with when it came to the question of your relationship. The excuses, they became second nature to you. The lies. The deceit. Anything to protect Steve’s identity, and inadvertently, you.

Throughout the night, you mingled with any clients interested in a work of art, all the while stepping out of Hilda and Claire’s line of sight. You didn’t wish a repeat of the earlier evening.

When the crowd started dwindling, signalling the end of the night, you were relieved of your duties. You headed straight for the restrooms after, one getaway before leaving. You huddled yourself in a cubicle, locking it shut.

Seconds in, you heard the creak of the restroom door followed by the clicks of heels.

“Can you believe it? Someone like that got the chance of working here.” 

You recognized the nasally tone. It was Claire. 

“Yeah? Not like she deserves it. I mean look at her? Demure, slow. It’s like talking to a mouse. I bet she’s a prude too.” That was Hilda.

The gushing of the faucet muffled their voices, but their sharp words were clear as day, your ear catching every snark and hiss.

“And when she was talking about her boyfriend? He probably doesn’t even exist, it was just to get off our backs,” Hilda paused. “Last time I heard, her boyfriend dumped her. So, I guess she’s creating imaginary ones now.” 

They both cackled.

By now, you knew they were talking about you. Their words didn’t hurt as much, you knew the colour of their hearts beneath the masks. But was that how people viewed your hidden relationship? A facade? A farce?

Once the door clicked shut, and the tapping of their heels faded, you left the restroom, heart feeling heavier.

(y/n) [6:45 PM]: stay safe stevie ! remember to hydrate

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: punch those meanies

(y/n) [6:46 PM]: (`⌒*)⍟-(`⌒´Q)

Steve chuckled when he turned on his phone, amused at your texts. You always sent him good luck messages every time he went off for missions. Although he didn’t seem to get the emoticons that you sent, even after being taught by Peter Parker. He just didn’t get them.

Steve dialed your number, sitting on the edge of the bed as he dried his washed hair. Beeps ringed before you picked up, your smooth lilt permeating the speakers. 

“Hello? Stevie?”

Steve smiled, missing the caress of your voice after a day filled with explosions and cries.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greeted. “How’s my girl been?”

“Great, now that you called,” you teased. “But are ‘you’ fine?” you emphasized.

On the other end of the line, you mirrored his position, sitting on one corner of the bed. Picking the newspaper in your lap, you observed the front page: ‘Avengers saves the Arctic!’ 

“Same old, same old,” his voice carries. “Listen, about yesterday—“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, other hand gripping the newspaper. “You have to protect the Earth and that also means me. You don’t have to apologize, I knew what I signed up for.” 

Did you? Or was it now a hollow statement to convince yourself?

“I still want to make up for it, my girl deserves that much,” he responded.

You slowly unclenched the paper. It left Steve’s form crinkled.

“If you want to sooo bad,” you exaggerated. “There’s a Valentines charity ball for our arts program in three weeks time. You think you could make it this time?”

“You know no promises, but I plan to, even if I have to do everyone’s laundry for a week.” You heard rustling on the other line. “What’s the exact date? I’ll put it on my calendar.” 

“The 16th.” Scratchy scribbling filled your ear, the sound loud in the silence. 

“Done. Can’t wait to see you all dolled up, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby,” you said. “At least put on a nice moustache this time.”

He laughed. Your heart felt lighter. To him, it was probably nothing, but to you, it was a form of reassurance. A reassurance that what you had was real.

“Steve, you got a moment?”

The aforementioned man turned around, taking a glance over his shoulder. Sharon Carter slowed to a stop, a small smile on her face. As always, she carried an air of superiority, matching that of Steve’s wavelength. Yet today, it seemed dim.

“I think we need to talk, you have time for coffee?”

Glancing at his watch, he nodded. “Sure, Sharon. Lead the way.”

She took them outside of S.H.I.E.L.D and into the chilly air of DC, navigating through streets and crowds while huddling in their coats. They chatted, breaths puffing as they caught up, the familiar scenes passing by.

He hadn’t been in DC in awhile, it felt good to be back. 

“We’re here.”

Sharon headed in first, holding the door for him. He thanked her. They ordered and got seated. A smile was shared, strained as it seemed. 

“Better just rip the band-aid off,” Sharon sighed. “I miss us.” 

“Sharon—“

“Please, hear me out first,” she insisted, showing her palm. “We probably shouldn’t have done what we’ve done after Aunt Peggy’s funeral. I just lost someone I looked up to the most, and you lost the woman that you loved. We were both grieving. It wasn’t fair to the both of us.”

“While I do miss us, I know that it wasn’t meant to be,” she continued, shooting a sombre smile. “I understand that now. I guess, what I wanted was closure.”

Her hand quivered on the table between them. Steve clasped his over hers, offering to soothe.

“I don’t regret what happened in Germany. While yes, it should have not happened, it was what we thought we needed at that time. We both lost someone we held dear,” Steve explained, hoping his words reached her. “None of it was a mistake, Sharon. You’re still someone I trust and hold dear, remember that.”

Steve clutched her hand tighter, running his thumb over her knuckles in circular motions, attempting to calm and show understanding.

In his efforts, unknown to the two, the shutter of a camera went off across the street.

Something felt off. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong. At first, you thought it was your own anxious mind running. 

You woke up late on a work day, burned your eggs and toast, accidentally wore unmatching socks, and your roommate was acting weird. All jittery when you entered the hall, stammering her words, and performing this bizarre dance when you walked past the living room. You gave her no mind when you passed the threshold and slammed the door, phone gripped in hand.

Loverboy [6:00 AM]: Good morning, dear 

Loverboy [6:01 AM]: [image]

A photo of Steve, sweaty after a run showed on the screen. He was smiling, shirt stained and clinging to his chest. You had taught him how to take selfies.

You [7:20 AM]: morning, handsome

You [7:20 AM]: 😍😍😍 

The morning texts were the best part of your morning commute. It made the arduous and packed journey worthwhile. Even when you almost tripped at the doors, it couldn’t take away your joy.

You made it just in time and clocked in, meeting clients and discussions with artists throughout the day. It was uneventful, although the bad luck seemed to have followed when you spilled your coffee on the concrete.

It was when you left the museum that your day took a turn for the worst.

On the ride home, the man opposite you was reading a newspaper. Nothing unusual, but at a glance, you thought you saw a familiar face printed on the corner. Before you could take a closer look, the man folded it in half and got off.

A few minutes later, you arrived at your stop, exiting the station with the fast-paced crowd. That’s when you were bombarded.

Lining the streets, your vision was filled with the scattering of a crowd of papers. Every face you saw was plastered in them.

‘The Good Captain In Love?’

‘A Superhero & A Civilian Romance?’ 

‘Captain America’s Girl? Mysterious Woman Sighted’

The sight of them left you in a panic, your anxiety spiking through the roof. Your world started spinning, everything —buildings, trees, faces— blending altogether. Everywhere your eyes deflected, a headline invaded your sight, imprinting itself on your retinas. Had they found out?

Composing yourself, you headed towards the nearest news stall, mind boggled with too many questions and not enough answers. How? Why? When?

Only, it wasn’t your face they were publishing.

‘“Oh Captain, My Captain” America in love? Spotted last week in DC was Captain Steven Rogers with a mysterious lady. They seemed to be cozy with each other, an eyewitness told Us Weekly. Story on Page 11.’

The photograph showcased Steve with a blonde woman, sitting in a café with their hands clasped on the table. Your heart shattered at the sight, remembering how empty yours have felt lately. 

Was he purposely out with this woman in public? What did that mean for you? Why were you shadowed?

“Are you and Steve… okay?”

“She’s creating imaginary ones now.”

“Aren’t you tired? Of all this sneaking around?”

“You know that’s a hard thing for me to do.”

“Hey lady, you gonna pay for that?”

You were shaken out of your stupor. Looking down, you were clutching the magazine too hard, ripping the image of Steve and the woman in half, right in the middle where their hands met.

You apologized to the man and paid for the magazine. Immediately discarding it in the next trash bin you saw.

“So… you and Sharon?” Sam had asked him after training.

“What?” 

“You, and, Sharon,” Sam emphasized, pronouncing each syllable. “Are together. Man, when were you gonna tell me? I thought it was over.”

Steve froze before replying, “Because it is. A long time ago.”

“Well, this seems to say otherwise.” 

Sam showed him his phone, the screen displaying an article; ‘Captain America’s Girl Revealed. A Family Affair That Transcends Time.’ On top of the article was a photo of him and Sharon at the cafe in DC, his hand atop of hers on the table. A zoomed in version of their hands were provided, fueling the tabloid’s narrative.

Steve paled at the sight. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was his fears manifested; his anonymity taken, his privacy invaded, but his worst fear was putting his loved ones in danger. And if it was due to their association with him, it would leave him racked with guilt. 

While the tabloids were wrong, he knew that Sharon could defend for herself. You on the other hand… 

His heart rate rose, a new wave of anxiety spiked. Steve wondered if you’ve seen this. No, you must’ve seen this. 

Fishing for his phone, with clammy hands, Steve quickly dialed your number, anxiously waiting for the beeping to end. 

‘The number you’ve dialed is not—‘

“Damn it!”

His outburst surprised Sam, shocking him. Sam gave him a look, inquisitive. 

“Sorry Sam, I have to run.” 

He left, heart in his throat.

When Steve arrived at your apartment, he was almost out of breath. He was still anxious, the ride here not doing much to his addled mind. But he was determined.

Rapidly knocking on your front door, Steve composed himself. When it opened, he was met with the sight of your roommate -- the one that he has never met before.

“Ca-Captain America?” she yelped, shocked to see him on the doorstep.

“Is your roommate in?” he steeled.

“Which one—” 

“Steve,” a voice interrupted.

The door pulled further, widening the entrance. Steve was met with your familiar roommate. She was tense, arms locked across her chest, eyes full of fury. Steve detected something else in them; worry.

“You fucked up,” she said. He winced.

“I know,” he admitted. “And I’m here to make things right. Can I please see her?”

She sighed, stepping in, nodding towards your room. 

Steve hastily walked in, stopping in front of your door. He knocked thrice, signalling you, before turning the knob. It was unlocked. The room was dark when he entered, every source of light switched off, except for your curtains. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed was you, figure illuminated by the street lights against pitch black darkness. When he stepped in closer, you looked up, eyes meeting his. 

Steve turned on the lights and closed the door. He took a good look at you; hair frazzled, eyes bloodshot and dry, nose red. You were the image of heartbreak.

“Are you ashamed of me?” you asked, eyes locked with his. 

“What? No, I—“

“Is it because I’m not strong?” you cut him off. “I know she’s Peggy’s niece… a-and I know how much you loved her. She was your first love.”

“She and I, it’s all in the past. She moved on and lived her life, and I… did too.”

“But did you really, Steve? Move on?” you whispered, getting up. You stood in front of him. Steve could see how puffed your eyes were from crying. “Or was I just… a rebound?”

“No. No, you were never a rebound,” he took hold of your forearms. “I care for you, too much.”

“Then why?!” you shrieked, shocking Steve. “Why the secrets? Why the hiding? Steve, you’ve never even introduced me to your friends. Shouldn’t they know?”

“I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me from what?!” you roared, eyes full of fury. “The Avengers? If they knew about me, they would protect me. Don’t you think so?”

Steve had no words to that, his mind a jumbled mess.

“I’m… beginning to think that you’re embarrassed with me,” you sighed. “We’ve never been on a date publicly, as each other. We’ve never held hands in public. I want you to meet my friends. I want to introduce you to them, and maybe soon, I want you to meet my family.”

“B-but, I’m tired, Steve. Tired of all the hiding. Of all the sneaking around. I want to tell the world that I’m in love with Steve Rogers, not Captain America,” you sighed, shedding a few tears.

You waited for his reply, only to be disappointed. 

“You know I can’t do that.”

You saw red. All you saw was red. 

You started pushing him, swatting him in the chest. Steve didn’t fight back, letting you unleash your anger, your disappointment. He took your hits, letting you release your pent up emotions. He began backing away when you started advancing, back against the door.

“Get out! Get out!” you screeched, pushing him.

When he unlocked the door and crossed, you immediately shut the door in his face. Steve heard sobbing from inside, his heart shattering at the sounds. 

“This way, Captain,” your roommate approached him, showing him to the door.

Steve relented, shame flooding him. He fucked up.

You stopped visiting The Sleeping Cat, wanting to avoid him at all costs. You blocked his number. You immersed yourself in your work, prepping for the upcoming charity gala. 

Sometimes you find yourself thinking about him when sleep proved to be difficult. It’s when you’re laying at night that you missed him the most.

But it was for the best, you reasoned. For you and him.

The Avengers PR had pushed for a fix-it, publishing a story that spoke a truth. ‘Just Friends: Romantic Allegations Proved False’. Steve had hoped you’d seen it. 

He called you every day but found himself blocked from everything. He still tried, hoping you’d come around one day. He came by The Sleeping Cat every other day, sitting in the same spot, hoping to catch you. 

But you never came.

You clasped the necklace in place, admiring how it sat on your clavicle through the mirror. You took a step back and took yourself in, smiling at what you saw. It didn’t reach your eyes.

Today was the day of the Valentines gala and you weren’t feeling particularly giddy about it. 

Opening your phone, you stared at the one contact that stood out, finger hovering over his name. That name used to give you so many feelings, but today it was a reminder that you were going alone, again.

Sighing, you threw it in your purse and left. Another lonely night, and on an even celebrating love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, before he knew it, the day of your Valentines gala arrived. 

Steve stared at the calendar. The heart-shaped doodle he drew called out to him, reminding him of fond memories. Fond memories that seemed like a distant dream. But then, he went back to last week, and it all came crashing.

He had hurt you. While thinking he was protecting you, he hadn’t realized he was inadvertently pushing you away. He had no one to blame but himself. 

He loved you. No, still loves you. You grounded him, gave him the normalcy that he craved. Reminded him of a distant time before he was Captain America. 

You made him feel like the boy from Brooklyn again.

While he was ruminating in his feelings, Steve was caught off-guard when the door burst open with Tony Stark coming through. From his peripheral, he could see Bucky and Sam peeking through the frame.

“Heard from the Manchurian Candidate that someone has a case of the achy breaky heart,” Tony said, smug.

“Leave me alone, Tony. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled, setting down the calendar. 

“And leave you wallowing like shit while your girl is out there probably equally miserable? I know a thing or two about women, Rogers, and it’s that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Tony snapped his fingers and from behind, Sam came in with a tuxedo in hand.

“Thought you might need this,” Sam said. 

Bucky came out behind him, with a brush and can of hairspray. “And I still know how to do hair.”

“And I have friends in places,” Tony quipped. “I can get you in.”

Steve was surprised. His friends had surprised him. You would’ve loved them. He was left speechless.

“What are you waiting for, Cap? Suit up.” Tony winked.

Swirling the glass of rosé, your gaze fell towards the dance floor. An upbeat song was being played as people flocked near the middle, letting their bodies take charge for the night. You saw your former co-workers among the throng, hands thrown around their significant others, having the time of their lives.

The gala was in full swing, if the crowd and chatter was any indication. Red and roses were the main theme, with a red carpet stretching from the grand staircase towards the main hall and roses lining every corner and wall. Taking it all in, you were proud to see your ideas visualized and work came to fruition.

You sipped your rosé, enjoying every bit of the gala as you could. From the sidelines, you spoke with a few potential clients and art collectors. Their presence made you feel your importance, and if you dared say it, a little less lonely.

It was during one of your little chats that you didn’t realize when the hall suddenly fell quiet. You turned around when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi folks, mind if I crash your party?”

Steve smiled at Tony’s antics. They both had arrived at the gallery dressed in their best, and with Tony’s connections, they were granted access. 

Stepping down the grand staircase, Steve felt all eyes on him. He paid them no mind, the thought of you the only occupant of his racing mind. Gazing over the crowd, Steve spotted you to the side, occupied in a chatter. 

Taking deliberate steps, Steve soon found himself behind you. He admired your gown and hair, it entranced him. You still hadn’t registered his presence, even when your partner had ceased chatting and was now staring at him.

With a tap on your shoulder, he was taken away as immediately as you spun around. Steve took in your whole image; your dolled-up face, your intricate dress, your styled hair. It left him floored.

You always did manage to take his breath away. Was this what he had been missing out all this time?

Taking your unoccupied hand, Steve pressed a small kiss before meeting your eyes. 

“May I have this dance?”

Giving away your drink, you took his hand as he pulled your towards the centre, taking space among the crowd. A slow number started, and before you realized, you were swept in a slow dance. It didn’t take long before you felt the sensation of his two left feet.

“Sorry, a hundred years and you’d think I’d know how to dance,” he said.

A small smile lightened your face. Steve savoured it all he could. Gulping, he took the first step.

“I’m... sorry for what I’ve done. I realize now that you were right,” he started. “I thought I was protecting you, but now I see that all it did was push you away. You have all the rights to be mad at me. I was being an idiot, a selfish one. I didn’t think about how you felt about it.”

You winced. Steve had stepped on your toes again. He murmured an apology, resorting to swaying instead.

“Can we start again? No more hiding. No more disguises,” he breathed, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “ We can meet your friends, you can meet mine. Bucky’s been pestering me to bring you to the compound, he wants to meet you.”

You laughed. How Steve had missed the tune.

“How can I make it up to you? How do you want to take the first step? A picnic at Central Park? Dinner at the compound? A trip to the beach?”

You seemed to contemplate, a thoughtful look on your face. You both failed to realize all the eyes on you two.

“How about now?”

“Right here? Right now?” he asked.

“Yes, right here, right now,” you said, determined.

Without hesitation —no more— Steve dived in, planting a kiss on your wine-coloured lips for the whole world to see. Your first kiss in public, yet it felt as if it was only the two of you there, lost in the moment. 

You both didn’t notice the gasping crowd nor the clicks of cameras from photographers nor the booming laughter of Tony Stark. You both only felt the other in your orbit, and that was all that mattered.

“Can you put that down? You’ve been staring at it for the past hour.”

You pouted, setting the frame on the side table, where it has been designated since its publication. 

“I can’t help it, I think it’s a good shot. Don’t you think so, Alpine?” you petted the snowy white cat lazing on the arm of the sofa. Its’ purrs intensified.

“Dinner’s ready!” Bucky shouted.

You and Steve left the room, joining the others in the dining room for dinner. On the side table, the framed article sat neatly, showcasing the tale of the famed occurrence that took place at a charity gala.

‘America’s Girl: The Modern Woman of The Captain’s Dreams.’

Fin.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #fluff #angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #happyhoelentinesday2021

[thefallenbibliophilequote]

I Carry Your Heart With Me

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Valentine's Day can be hard, but not only for singles.

Word count: 2,262

Warnings: implied smut, mainly fluff, some angst.

A/N: this is my Hoelentine gift to @fandomoneshots-imagines I really hope you'll like it, have a happy Hoelentine!!! @amythedvdhoarder  @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes

A/N2: And yes, the poem by E. E. Cummings inspired this and I have to say that I got emotional writing this. The idea that inspired this fanfic though, was the song by Taylor Cruel Summer. As always let me know via ask if you want to be added to the taglist! be warned that this is not betad and errors are probably hanging out throughout this story, i take full responsibiblity!

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Masterlist

--

 "I don't think it'll fit." Natasha tilted her head, trying to picture Tony's sketches coming to life in the ball room.

"Of course it will!" you heard the two of them coming into the common room.

"Hear ye, hear ye! I am happy to announce that next week we will be hosting a Valentine's Day party!" at the few groans in the room he continued. "No you can't skip it, and yes you will have to get dressed up nicely."

"What if we accidently get hurt on a mission and have to miss it?" Sam quipped at Tony who was not amused.

"Girls love heroes, so if you somehow end up in that situation clean yourself up and get to the party."

"You can't just force everyone here to go to a party, what if I want to stay in?" you raised your eyebrow at Tony, you liked the plans that you had for valentines and you were kind of looking forward to it actually. You weren't the only one.

"Want to bet on it?" He joked but you knew for him it was an actual challenge. "Besides, what are you going to do instead?"

"Nothing, maybe I will watch a shitty valentines movie?" You hoped he will let this go, a shitty movie was not in your schedule but he didn't have to know that. No one did.

"You need to get laid on Valentines." He shook his head.

"We could set you up! Come on, I'll make sure he'll be a good one." Natasha was smirking at your horrified look. You shook your head before the words could come out of your mouth.

"She doesn't need to be set up with, leave her alone. If she doesn't want to go to the stupid party then she shouldn't have to." Bucky called from where he was sitting opposite you on the other sofa. You met his eye for a moment before you both looked away from each other.

"Don't be so grumpy, Frosty! Maybe we should set you up too, then you won't call my party stupid."

"All I need is peace and quiet, which is why I won't be attending the party Tony." Bucky dismissed it, shifting in his seat. You could feel his unease at the subject.

"Don't worry, I'll find you a good one. Nat and I are the best at that." Sam winked at Bucky and put his arm around Natasha who wore a smirk matching his.

"Leave him alone too. Wow the two of you are disgusting." You got up from the chair, taking the tea from the table. "Now if you'll excuse me I'll go to my room and I am going to stay there because no one is setting me up."

With a stern look at Natasha you turned and walked to your room, leaving the door unlocked.

 Trying to stifle a laugh you reached for the lamp on your nightstand and as it lit up a beautiful face of a certain supersoldier hanged mere inches from your face. Now that you could see his smile, you leaned forward to capture his lips causing him to moan.

"What took you so long?" he got into bed beside you.

"Sorry doll, I was chased around a little, had to disappear. I can't believe they want to set me up with some girl." He pulled you closer to him, chest to chest. "I don't need some gal, I already have the best gal right here with me."

"What a sap." You laughed it off, but your cheeks felt hot and you knew that he could tell. You let yourself sink into those brilliant blue eyes of his, sighing in content at finally letting the mask fall off and being able to spend time alone with your boyfriend.

"What if we told them?"

"What? Doll we can't tell them." He pouted at you. You wanted for a while now to let everyone know that you're dating but Bucky never wanted that, he insisted that it'll stay a secret.

"Bucky come on, we are almost a year together now and I don't want to spend our anniversary apart from you and at a stupid party with someone else." You leaned up a bit to look at him properly.

"But we talked about this. I want to keep this amazing thing that we have just for us, for now at least." He tried to take your chin but you pushed his hand away.

"But for how long Bucky? I don't want to keep secrets just to keep you! It's hard not being able to kiss you, hold you whenever we are anywhere public outside of our rooms. Sneaking into your bed and you sneaking into mind… it's a bit tiring." You admitted.

"I don't know for how long, but we will figure this out. It could be dangerous if people knew and- doll, I want to keep this safe. This is so private and I've never had something like this before."

You understood where he was coming from, it still tugged on your heart but you only nodded to him. Lying back down next to him, he reached over you for the lamp with a smirk on his face and he kissed you as the light went out.

 It's been a long agonizing week and you barely got to see Bucky with his sudden mission and the planning for the big party Tony was throwing. And then the big day came.

It has been one year exactly. You opened your eyes that morning, not surprised to find your bed empty but you still wished he had stayed a little bit longer. You picked up the neatly folded note from the side of your bed, smiling when you realized what it was.

Doll,

Happy one year anniversary to us! You know I'm not good with words but I still want to try and explain to you what I feel. A year ago I shared my first kiss with a beautiful gal, and now a year later I woke up to having that special gal in my arms. I never thought that I'll be able to keep you mine for this long, and while I can't spend this special day with you I am looking forward to spending every other day with you.

I love you with all my heart Doll.

-your Bucky

 Bucky still is a sweet talker, and it had you smiling like a little girl and left you a blushing mess. He liked playing with you like that, and you couldn't help but love him more for it. It didn't come easy for him to express these raw emotions but with time you found a way through and you treasured every time you get to see him like no one else ever would. Kissing the letter and closing it, you got up from the bed and went to start your day. Maybe you'll get Bucky alone in the kitchen.

The minute you got to the living room, your friends kidnapped you and kept you hostage, showing you guys that they want to set you up with, they talked about your dress and shoes and whatever else you couldn't find yourself to care about when you haven't seen Bucky yet.

A spring of butterflies gathered in your stomach when Bucky was finally there, coming back from a run. He smiled his beautiful smile at you and pointed his head to the kitchen which he was heading towards.

After he entered you made a half-assed excuse and went to the kitchen. You were smiling when you saw him there, immediately going for a hug which for your sadness didn't last long when you saw Clint and Steve were there too, and Sam was just entering. Murmuring a greeting to everyone, you made yourself coffee next to where Bucky stood.

At this point you were experts in hiding a relationship from spies and soldiers. No trying to whisper to each other when Steve was around; being cautious about what you are doing when the archer is in the room; talking as friends next to people and being affectionate when you were alone in a room which was alright since Bucky will know if someone is coming. So you enjoyed talking to him a bit now until Sam took him away from you, telling him about the girl he found for him.

Bucky noticed when you exited the room right after without saying a word. He wished he could get his friends to stop pushing the topic.

 That was how the rest of the day went, and by the time the party started you still didn't get enough time with your boyfriend leaving you with this emptiness inside of you.

Natasha and Tony introduced you to the guy they set you up with, the guy they thought could compare to your Bucky but then again no one could compare to him.

He was nice enough, his name was Nick and he was a developer at Stark industries. Trying to keep the small talk found to be difficult especially when you spotted Bucky in the crowd being introduced to a stunning looking girl, and you couldn't help the jealousy that decided to take over your mind.

The night moved on and Bucky, being the 40s gentleman that he is, danced with the lady while you could barely focus. You wanted nothing more than to throw her into the farthest wall away from Bucky.

So settling for lightly turning Nick down, you went from him straight to the bar hoping a drink or two will help. Worst anniversary ever.

In the middle of the dance floor Bucky struggled to stay far enough from the girl in front of him without offending her and making a scene. But the girl tried getting closer to him, and there were so many people around him he didn't have anywhere to go, then he saw you sitting alone at the bar crestfallen.

Seeing his girl so sad, that did it for him. He went away from the girl and knew exactly what he was doing as he walked towards the band that was playing with a look he knew belonged to the winter soldier, it did the job as the people scrambled to get out of his way until he got up on the stand and sent the singer away, pulling the microphone out of its stand.

With one breath in he started speaking.

"Everyone I need your attention, please. Cut the music." At the sharp tone of his voice all of the music stopped and the only thing heard in the big room were the whispers in the crowd. There were more people there looking at him now than he realized, but he wouldn't let himself back down now, it was too important for him. Looking out he caught you looking at him and smiled.

"Now, there's a beautiful girl here in this room tonight and she means everything to me but I was too goddamn scared of what will happen if I admitted what I am admitting right now." He never let his eyes wander from yours. "Y/N Y/L/N I love you more than anything in this world and it's been a year since I got over my fear and finally kissed you and now, now I want the whole world to know that I'm the luckiest guy in the world to be able to call you mine. I never let myself hope, aspire, or dream that I could one day find everything I wanted in a person but then I met you and you wrecked any plan I had to stray away from love.

You're my everything, my Doll," Bucky got down from the stage and walked to you until he stood in front of you and could see the emotional unshed tears your eyes held when you got out of the chair to stand in front of him. "I'm sorry it took me this long, and believe me when I say that I wanted to show you off as mine to anyone who dared to look at you, but I was scared and now it doesn't matter."

When a tear spilled out he wiped it from your cheeks and a smile spread on your face at his touch.

"I LOVE YOU." He shouted into the microphone even when his entire world now just consisted of you and only you. He repeated it again in a whisper just for good measure. "I love you and I need you to know that you're the only one for me Doll because you've got my heart in the palm of your hand and no matter how many times I'll say it it'll still not be enough to explain my feelings towards you. I love you Y/N, and I will love you until I die, and if there's life after that I'll love you then."

Not waiting anymore you threw the microphone to the side, not caring about the noise it made when you crushed your lips into Bucky's. You felt him grin into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

After the quiet there were cheers in the background but you could barely hear them over the pound of your two hearts, synchronized perfectly with each other.

"Your heart is safe with me, I'll carry it with mine." It was a promise between two lovers, a secret of just the two of them, and Bucky knew he had nothing to fear when he had her.

Tags: @callmeluna @sstanbarnes  @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes  @easygoingtheatre  @that-one-person  @justab-eautifulmess @onceupona-happilyeverafter  @wipplogg  @supraveng  @bucky-the-thigh-slayer  @ayybtch @kitkatd7  

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #fluff #angst #little bit #valentines #writing challenge #marvel #bucky barnes fluff #happyhoelentinesday2021 #my writing #i carry your heart with me

[me-and-your-husband]

together || a. barber

Summary: You and Andy spend your Valentine’s Day together, basking in the glow of each other.

Warnings: none, just fluff :)

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Note: I wrote this for @drabblewithfrannybarnes @chrissquares and @amythedvdhoarder 's Hoelentine’s fic swap! This is a gift for the extremely deserving @trashywritestrash !

The blinding sunlight peeked through the translucent white curtains and brought life into the room. The warm glow on your skin roused you, and your eyes fluttered open to look at the man beside you who was radiating such an ethereal energy that he was almost glowing. The golden light shone on his bare chest and highlighted the few grays in his beard and hair. The rhythmic rising of his chest up and down as he breathed was rather calming, and the faintest creases showed at the corners of his eyes, evidence of many years of laughter. 

While you were busy memorizing his every feature, the hand that wrapped around you subconsciously pulled you closer, burying your face in his neck. He still smelled of his cologne even after he showered last night. You smiled softly against his neck when you realized that even in his sleep, his subconscious knew that he wanted you close. 

Hours passed and the sun rose in the sky, brightening the room further. It was a Sunday, and Andy had the weekend off. He knew he wanted to spend the day with his girl on Valentine’s Day. When the birds stopped chirping and the streets became busy with a Sunday morning buzz, Andy stirred. Lifting your head from his neck, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal his gorgeous blue eyes.

Resting a hand on the side of his cheek and softly scratching his beard, you took a moment to admire him further as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and blinked to adjust to the light. 

“Morning, honey,” he said, his voice low and rough from sleep. “How did you sleep?”

His hands moved to rest on your hips. “You know I always sleep perfectly next to you,” you hummed. He huffed out a small laugh, before pulling you back into his chest. 

“Y’know what day it is?” He teased.

“Of course I do, it’s National Organ Donor Day,” you smirked, lifting your head off his chest. 

He chuckled, “Very funny, Y/N.” He pushed you off his chest playfully. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! It’s Valentine’s Day,” you laughed.

“Oh really?” He said, words dripping in sarcasm. Leaning down, he brought his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, only parting when air became insufficient. 

You groaned, though the dazed smile on your face contradicted you. “We should probably get out of bed. It’s almost ten thirty,” you gestured towards the alarm clock on the bedside table. 

“Right. Wouldn’t wanna waste such a special day. We’ve gotta give thanks to the organ donors of America.”

The day continued as normal. Andy believed that spoiling his girl and showing her an abundance of affection shouldn’t be a one day a year thing. You and Andy ran a few errands and did a few things around the house, and in the late afternoon you slumped onto your couch after helping Andy carry the grocery bags through the door. 

Finding your exhaustion quite amusing, Andy chuckled. “If you’re tired, you can go have a nap, honey.”

You let out a noise in between a whine and a groan. “No, it’s Valentine’s Day and I want to spend it together. Besides, we’ve got that reservation-”

“Forget the reservation,” Andy professed. Feeling the couch dip with his weight, you felt his large hand rub soothingly up and down your back. “I’m happy wherever you are. And it’ll be way better if you aren’t exhausted. Go sleep, I’ll make dinner.”

“Ngh, are you sure?” You asked him softly, to which he nodded his head solemnly. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before you got up and threw yourself into your bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

In the kitchen, Andy was busy trying to boil pasta, cook chicken, cut vegetables and make sauce all at once, all while trying to be quiet as to not wake you from your peaceful slumber. Of course he succeeded, because it was Andy. 

An hour and a half later, Andy scribbled on a bright green sticky note and placed it right on the screen of your phone so that you couldn’t miss it when you checked the time. Taking a moment to admire your sleeping state before creeping back out of the room, Andy couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. What if you said no? What would he do without you? It was so unhealthy to live for another person other than yourself, it was unhealthy to be so obsessed with someone else’s love that you wanted to be in their immediate vicinity at all times, and it was unhealthy to give your entire self solely to someone else. Andy knew it was unhealthy, and before you he reminded himself of that every day. But then you came along, with your glowing smile and radiance, and Andy couldn’t help but follow you like a lost puppy and bend his morals to fit you into his life completely. 

It wasn’t like you did it on purpose. It wasn’t like you pranced into Andy’s life, took his whole heart in your hands, and forced him to trust you with it. No, he did that willingly. Who wouldn’t, though? You were anything but malicious with his soul. You guarded his heart like it belonged to the best man in the universe. Which to you, it did. 

Andy was the person who you wanted to shield from everything wrong and harmful in the world. Together, the two of you could create a little opaque protective bubble in which you could dwell in together, blocking out the rest of the world and the world not bothering you. Loving Andy was not a decision you made, but it was one you were thankful for nonetheless. 

The ringing of your alarm sounded, pulling you from your sleep. Stretching momentarily, you picked up your phone and aggressively tapped it to get it to stop ringing. When it didn’t, you opened up your eyes and after they adjusted to the light, you were met with the presence of a neon sticky note on your screen. You recognized Andy’s cursive:

Put something nice on, and come out when you’re ready.

You had to admit that you were curious, but you rolled out of bed and ruffled through your closet. After some indecisiveness, you settled on an outfit that you knew was Andy;s favorite. You put your hair up neatly and put any makeup you wished to wear on. It wasn’t long until you were ready, and when you were you opened your bedroom door and your ears were met with the soft hum of classical music. Walking down the hallway, you could tell that the house was dimly light, likely by candles. 

You finally stood before Andy at the kitchen table, who was pouring a glass of wine for you and placing it next to your plate. It was filled with all sorts of foods, and your mouth watered at the display. Andy gestured for you to sit, so you did so. He had changed since earlier, he now wore his usual slacks and a dress shirt, but no tie this time.

“Andy,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to do all of this!” You gawked as you looked around. Grabbing your hands from across the table, Andy assured you that he did, that he needs to show you how much he loves you. 

“Andy, you show me that every day. It’s laced in the little things you do like a drug.”

“And you’re addicted?” He asked smugly.

“And I’m addicted,” you confirmed. 

Andy took a deep breath as his mind wandered to the small velvet box in his back pocket. Looking at you, he realized that he wanted to do this now. Grabbing your hand, he led you to the back door. 

“Andy, where are we going?” You laughed. 

“You’ll see.”

Sliding open the back door, Andy led you out and shut it again. He let go of your hand when you spun around to take in the scene. Strings of lights were strung across the yard, illuminating the area. They created a box around you. You looked up towards the sky. The stars were almost clear tonight, the city’s pollution making them harder to see, but they were still as clear as always. 

Looking back down, you saw the man who held your heart in his hands, now holding a velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat and you let out a sob, hands flying up to cover your mouth. 

“Andy…” you choked out. He only let out a shaky breath.

“Y/N,” he began before he cleared his throat. “God, I pretty much recite speeches for a living and now I’m blanking on everything I practiced. Alright, I’m going to wing it,” he announced and you laughed with watery eyes. 

“Y/N, darling, love of my life, it’s quite a ridiculous notion that someone would follow another person to the ends of the earth, but here we are. I would travel anywhere just to keep you within my reach. I want to be able to call you Mrs. Barber, to wear your wedding band and for you to wear this ring. I want to grow and have a family with you and grow old with you. You’re like my air. I need you. And I know you don’t need me, because you’re the most independent woman I know, but even thinking about you makes my chest hurt. So please, Y/N, before this kills me, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Andy! Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot! I love you, I love you, I love you!” You gushed, hurling yourself into his arms. Burying his face in your neck, his beard felt scratchy against your skin. You could feel the hot tears on his cheeks, as you were sure he could feel yours.

And the two of you stayed like that for a while. Just holding on to each other. You relished in the confirmation of your everlasting bond and the next step you’d be taking together. But really, you two just revelled in the notion of feeling so safe in your lover’s arms, knowing you’d protect each other from the world. Together.

TAGLIST:

@ilovemarvel-andcats​

my other taglist members have been deactivated :(

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #happyhoelentine’schallenge2021 #andy barber #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #cevans x reader #cevans x you #cevans x y/n

[nekoannie-chan]

A little help

Pairing: Steve Rogers X F!Reader

Word count: 835 words.

Summary: Steve likes you and you like him, but they didn't dare confess his feelings, Natasha decides to help them.

Warnings: Mentions of smut, nothing explicit.

A/N: This is my gift to @thefallenbibliophilequote​, I hope you like it.

@amythedvdhoarder​, @chrissquares​, @drabblewithfrannybarnes​

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don’t steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other’s people. The only exception is the ones I gifted ‘cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Marvel’s characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou​ @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight​ @shield-agent78​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi​ @smokeandnailz @adriannajackson @white-wolf1940​

Steve kept the picture of you when he heard your voice and Natasha’s coming into the gym, the training would start soon. Steve had fallen in love with you, he thought you only saw him as his best friend.

"Stevie, are you okay? "You questioned when you saw him nervous.

"Yes, I'm okay.”

"Rogers, you're a very bad liar," Natasha said after you guys stared at each other.

During training, there were a few incidents because Steve wasn’t very focused on what they were doing.

"Don't you think Steve was acting weird? “you asked Natasha when they sat in the places, they found available in the dining room.

"It must be age, you know, he's an old man,” Nat mocked.

She started planning a date in her head for you two, she knew neither of you would take the first step, so you'd need help, in the end, she wanted the people she loved most to be together and happy. As soon as he had a chance with Clint, he was perfect for me to do the other half of the plan, she was sure none of you would suspect anything.

You were finishing writing the report of the last mission when Natasha came into your office.

"Why are you acting so suspicious? “you questioned while still seeing the computer monitor.

"Do you have anything to do on Valentine’s Day? That's all I want to know,” she asked you.

"Tomorrow? I guess I have to go to Stark's annual party, die of boredom there and...

"Forget Stark's party, we'll have a girls’ night out,” your friend interrupted you.

"Okay? "Your voice sounded confused, she always c̶o̶n̶v̶i̶n̶c̶e̶d̶  forced you to go to the party and get you an appointment and it all ended in disaster.  

On the other hand, Clint entered the gym, just the practice of recruits was over, so Steve would already be unemployed.

"Cap," he called Steve.

"Barton, is everything okay?”

"I don't know if you saw that tomorrow, we have a mission,” Clint replied, he hoped the false notification would have come to him.

“Yes, I've got what we're going to need,” Steve frowned, he thought Barton's attitude was a little strange, though maybe was his imagination.

You knocked on Natasha's bedroom door, maybe Wanda, Lorna and Clarice were already there, even though your friend hadn't told you exactly what the plan was going to be, they’d probably go shopping. As soon as she opened the door, you made sure you were right.

"Trust me," Natasha said when she took out the clothes, she wanted you to wear.

"I don't understand why I should dress like this to...”

"Just trust in us,” Lorna asked as she covered your eyes very carefully so as not to ruin your makeup.

"What are you doing? I'm starting to get scared.”

"There's a surprise in a special place.”

“Barton, are you sure these clothes are suitable for the mission?” Steve asked strangely as he smoothed out the jacket.

"I assure you it’s perfect,” Clint said as she drove it to the table they had prepared for the planned date, a few minutes earlier he had received Nat's message telling him you were on your way. “Now I need you to wait a few minutes here.”

“Why...? "Steve didn't finish the sentence, Clint had already left the place.

"Then... I have to get in and ...then? “You questioned at the same time that you were guided by your friends.

"Let it all flow,” Natasha said, opening the door and pushing you inside.

You took off the fabric that covered your eyes, you blinked several times to adapt to the light.

"What are you doing here? “Steve asked you.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, my friends told me we'd have a girls' night out...”

“Barton told me we had a mission...”

You turned to the table, dinner was already served, sat down to eat and began to talk some memories of your childhood.

"Steve, there's something that’s got time that I've wanted to tell you...”

You took a deep breath; you were finally going to dare to confess your feelings to him.

"I like you,” you said at the unison, then you saw each other and laughed.

"I think we fell into Natasha and Clint’s trap,” Steve said.

"Well, it worked very well, so I guess...”

“Maybe we should...”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you.

"I just hope they're not late for training,” Natasha said as she opened the gym door.

she opened her stupefied eyes, there you were without clothes, you on top of Steve, you looked up when you felt someone watching you.

"Nat! "You exclaimed in a whisper.

She closed the door immediately and turned to Clint, who saw her curiously.

"I think the training will start later, we should go to the cafeteria for a while,” she said before Barton said anything and drove him away from the door.

Thirty more minutes extra you will have. 

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #steve rogers x f!reader

[trashywritestrash]

No Singles Allowed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,728

Warnings: Reader gets stood up, SMUT! (thigh riding, metal arm kink), the pet name “babydoll”, 18+ ONLY / MINORS DNI

A/N: @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares and @drabblewithfrannybarnes hosted this amazing event for a holiday I’ve never really *loved* but now I can smile and say HAPPY HOELENTINES DAY @jobean12-blog !!!! You are my secret giftee, so I hope you like it! (Border made by ME)

You were a relatively new SHIELD agent, still learning how some things work. More specifically, you were still figuring out how the mind of Tony Stark works.

Throwing a party for the big holidays makes sense. Christmas, Halloween, New Year’s Eve... But Valentine’s day? Really? February 14th wasn’t special enough where you’d want to celebrate it to this extent. There were streamers on every surface, heart shaped balloons, and so many roses that all employees with a flower allergy were sent home early. Every wall had at least three different posters advertising Stark’s annual Valentine’s party; and its fine print.

Single parties will be denied entry.

That’s fine. You don’t need to go. It would be boring going alone anyway. But all your female co-workers were using this as an opportunity to set you up.

“Just find someone to go with. Mike down on level five would love to take you!”

“You can’t skip this one! The food is amazing!”

“I have a friend I could ask for you? He’s single and he’s dying to go to one of Stark’s parties!”

You would take your best friend and pretend you two were dating, but they were spending the day with their actual significant other. You couldn’t even be mad. Intead, you had to arrange what would probably be an awakward first date with Andrew from accounting.

Entering the office and sitting in your spinning chair, you notice the new addition to your desk. It’s hard not to notice it. There are a dozen red roses just sitting there. You pick up the small folded note attached to the boquet.

Can’t wait to see you at the party tonight.

There’s no name, but you assume they are from Andrew. It’s a sweet gesture, but a bit too much for having never been on a date before. You set them aside

After a few hours of writing up reports, sending emails, file searching, and copy making; someone takes a seat on the edge of your desk. You look up, startled, only to see the bright baby blues of Bucky Barnes staring back at you, “Hiya, doll.”

“Hey, Bucky! You got a haircut.” His shoulder length hair had been chopped to a bit of a longer crew cut. It made him look more like the man you read about in your history books, ignoring the metal arm.

He runs a hand through his hair and you notice that he’s wearing gloves. The building is heated, so it doesn’t make sense for him to be wearing them; but you decided not to mention it. “Yeah, I did. I’m still gettin’ used to it. You like it?”

You nod, “It’s nice! You kinda look cooler.”

“I wasn’t cool before?” Bucky puts a hand to his heart, “I’m hurt.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Bucky laughs, seeming totally relaxed, “Nice flowers.” You didn’t think he saw them, but apparently he did.

“Thanks! They’re from Andrew up in accounting. I’m going with him to Stark’s party tonight.” You grin, picking at one of the petals. Bucky’s smile falters, but he quickly pulls himself together.

“That’ll be fun. Maybe I’ll see you guys there.”

You nod, “I’ll keep an eye out for you!”

Bucky hops off your desk, looking nervous, “I’ll let you get back to work. See you later, Y/N.” Before you can say goodbye, he’s gone.

After years and years of being let down, you have finally come to the conclusion that men are shit.

The party started at ten, so you and Andrew decided to show up at ten-fifteen. Of course, you showed up a couple minutes early just in case. But now it’s a quarter to eleven with no sign of Andrew anywhere. You check your phone again; still no text from Andrew. You tried to enter the party on your own, so that you could wait inside, but the bouncer quickly dismissed you.

It was February in New York City so the air was freezing cold. You were smart enough to bring a coat, so your arms were okay; but the same cannot be said about your legs. Bare legs plus freezing cold does not equal a good time.

Just as you’re about to give up and call it a night, you hear a voice call out your name. You’d recognize that Brooklyn accent anywhere. Turning your head, you see Bucky Barnes approaching you, dressed to the nines (as he would say).

“Hey, Bucky! You decided to come, huh?”

He comes closer, now standing only a foot away, “What are you doing standing outside? It’s freezing.”

“Andrew never showed. I tried to wait inside, but Tony made sure security adhered to the ‘no singles allowed’ rule.” I pull my coat tighter around myself.

Bucky looks like he’s got a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he chooses “Andrew stood you up?”

“I mean... he’s really only thirty minutes late, but he’s not answering my texts.” You put on a smile, but Bucky knows better.

“Do you wanna go in with me? I don’t have a date; Steve was gonna try to sneak me in.” He glances at the door, then looks back at you, “It’d save him a lotta trouble.”

That’s all this is. Bucky taking pity on you and reducing Steve’s workload. Nothing more. You stop yourself before your hopes can build... You can’t let it.

By midnight, you and Bucky are sitting at a table with a large plate of hors d’oeuvres and desserts sitting between you. Biting into one of the many tasty treats, you continue your story.

“I’m not kidding! Wanda looked disgusted- I didn’t see her again the rest of the day!” Bucky throws his head back with laughter, doing nothing to hide his bright smile. That shouldn’t make your heart flutter the way it does.

“What did Vision do?” He sits on the edge of his seat, hanging onto your every word.

“I wasn’t there to see it, but Sam told me he could hear the gears turning in Vision’s head from three rooms away.”

Bucky puts a hand on his chest while he laughs, trying to steady himself. You’d be just as far gone as him if you weren’t distracted by the way his shirt sleeve tightens around his bicep. You take a sip of your drink, hoping it cools you down.

Suddenly your phone rings. You and Bucky both look at it, only to see the name Andrew displayed in bold white text.

“Are you gonna answer that?” Bucky locks eyes with you and you see just how vulnerable he is in this moment. He looks like he handed you his heart on a silver platter; now he’s waiting to see if you’ll take it.

Your eyes don’t leave his as you deny the call, gently shaking your head. Neither of you are smiling any more.

“You deserve so much more than him,” Bucky points to your phone, “Is that all you think you’re worth?”

Shaking your head, all you can do is whisper, “No.” You know what you deserve, but the world very rarely gives you anything close to enough. At some point, you learn to take what you can get.

Bucky scoots closer, placing a hand on your thigh and leaning to speak in your ear, “If I had the opportunity to make you mine, I wouldn’t throw it away.”

A beat passes before the air escapes your lungs, “What’s stopping you?” Next thing you know, his lips are on yours, his hand on your cheek. Your fingers are in his hair and you forget you’re at a party until someone bumps into your table; scaring you and Bucky apart.

Gasping for air, you lace your fingers together and practically purr, “Let’s get out of here.”

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

The slam of the door serves as background noise as Bucky presses you against his wall, lips attacking your neck with ferver. You barely have time to take in the blandness of the room before your eyes close in bliss.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, babydoll.”

Still pinned against the wall, Bucky slides a thigh between your legs, pressing his knee to your clothed core. A broken moan escapes your lips as he applies pressure to your clit.

“Like that, huh? Wanna ride my thigh? Get yourself on me- Go on, doll, take your pleasure.”

You do just that because who are you to deny this gorgeous man anything he asks for? Especially while he whispers dirty lines in your ear like secrets he can’t share with anyone else.

“Tell me who’s making you feel good.”

“Say you’re mine.”

“There you go, babydoll. Doin’ so good for me.”

He places one hand on your hip, guiding your movements. The other goes against the wall. You lift your hand to his, causing him to flinch slightly.

“Take off the gloves.”

Bucky must have thought you wouldn’t notice the black gloves he wore all night, but you did. You understood why he would wear them in public, but right now it’s only the two of you. And he’s not going to scare you off that easily.

He does as you tell him, giving you a temporary satisfaction before he presses against you harder. You gasp.

“That what you wanted, doll? Wanted to see it?”

Bucky holds his metal hand in front of your face, the black and gold glittering in the dim light. You nod, grasping his wrist and pulling his hand toward your breasts. The cool metal feels sinful, even through your dress. Bucky removes that barrier quickly.

It’s too much. His thigh grinding against your core, his metal fingers pinching your sensitive nipple, the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear. All of it throws you over the edge and into a pool of ecstasy far too soon. But he doesn’t pull away when you collapse into him.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere yet, babydoll. I got more worship to do.”

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

If you enjoyed this or would like to read more of my work, please consider liking, reblogging, or tipping my Ko-fi!

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #happyhoelentine’schallenge2021 #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #nel writes #bucky smut #marvel smut #smut #x reader smut #18+

[nekoannie-chan]

Un poco de ayuda

Pareja: Steve Rogers X Lectora

Palabras: 807 palabras.

Sinopsis: Steve te gusta y tú a él, pero no se atrevían a confesar sus sentimientos, Natasha decide ayudarlos.

Advertencias: Menciones de smut, nada explicito.

N/A: Esta es mi entrada para Happy hoelentine’s day.

No doy ningún permiso para que mis fics sean publicados en otra plataforma o idioma (yo traduzco mi propio trabajo) o el uso de mis gráficos (mis separadores de texto también están incluidos), los cuales hice exclusivamente para mis fics, por favor respeta mi trabajo y no lo robes. Aquí en la plataforma hay personas que hacen separadores de texto para que cualquiera los pueda usar, los míos no son públicos, por favor busca los de dichas personas. La única excepción serían los regalos que he hecho ya que ahora pertenecen a alguien más. Si encuentras alguno de mis trabajos en una plataforma diferente y no es alguna de mis cuentas, por favor avísame. Los reblogs y comentarios están bien. DISCLAIMER:Los personajes de Marvel no me pertenecen (desafortunadamente), exceptuando por los personajes originales y la historia.

Otros lugares donde publico: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

Si te gusto por favor vota, comenta y rebloguea.

Tags: @sinceimetyou​ @black23​

Steve guardó la foto tuya que tenía cuando escuchó tu voz y la de Natasha entrando al gimnasio, el entrenamiento empezaría pronto. Steve se había enamorado de ti, él creía que sólo lo veías como su mejor amigo.

—Stevie, ¿estás bien? —cuestionaste al verlo nervioso.

—Si, estoy bien, muy bien.

—Rogers, eres muy malo mintiendo —aseguró Natasha después de que ustedes se quedaron viendo la una a la otra.

Durante el entrenamiento hubo unos cuantos incidentes porque Steve no estaba muy concentrado en lo que hacían.

—¿No crees que Steve estaba actuando muy raro? —le preguntaste a Natasha cuando se sentaron en los lugares que encontraron disponibles en el comedor.

—Debe ser la edad, ya sabes, es un anciano —se burló Nat.

En realidad, ella comenzó a planear en su cabeza una cita para ustedes dos, sabía que ninguno de ustedes daría el primer paso, así que necesitarían ayuda, a final de cuenta ella quería que las personas que más quería estuvieran juntas y siendo felices. En cuanto tuvo oportunidad fue con Clint, él era perfecto para que hiciera la otra mitad del plan, estaba completamente segura que ninguno de ustedes iba a sospechar algo.

Te encontrabas terminando de redactar el informe de la última misión cuando Natasha entró a tu oficina.

—¿Por qué actúas tan sospechosa? —cuestionaste sin dejar de ver el monitor de la computadora.

—¿Tienes algo que hacer en San Valentín? Es lo único que quiero saber —te preguntó.

—¿Mañana? Supongo que tengo que ir a la fiesta anual de Stark, morirme de aburrimiento ahí y…

—Olvida la fiesta de Stark, tendremos una noche de chicas —te interrumpió tu amiga.

—¿Vale? —tu voz sonó confundida, ella siempre te c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶c̶í̶a̶ obligaba a ir a la fiesta y te conseguía alguna cita y todo terminaba en un desastre.

Por otra parte, Clint entró al gimnasio, justo la práctica de los reclutas había terminado, por lo que Steve ya estaría desocupado.

—Cap —lo llamó.

—Barton, ¿todo está bien?

—No sé si ya viste que mañana tenemos una misión —respondió Clint, él esperaba que la falsa notificación si le hubiera llegado.

—Si, ya tengo lo que necesitaremos —Steve frunció el ceño, creía que la actitud de Barton era un poco extraña, aunque quizás sólo lo estaba imaginando.

Tocaste la puerta de la recámara de Natasha, quizás Wanda, Lorna y Clarice ya estaban ahí, aunque tu amiga no te había dicho exactamente cuál iba a ser el plan, probablemente irían de compras. En cuanto ella abrió la puerta, comprobaste que tenías la razón.

—Confía en mí —dijo Natasha cuando sacó la ropa que quería que te pusieras.

—No entiendo porqué debo vestirme así para…

—Simplemente confía en nosotras —pidió Lorna mientras te tapaba los ojos con mucho cuidado para no arruinar el maquillaje.

—¿Qué hacen? Comienzo a asustarme.

—Es que hay una sorpresa.

—Barton, ¿estás seguro que esta ropa es adecuada para la misión? —preguntó con extrañeza Steve mientras alisaba el saco del trajo.

—Te aseguro que es perfecta —Clint afirmó mientras lo conducía a la mesa que habían preparado para la cita planeada, unos minutos antes había recibido el mensaje de Nat donde le indicaba que iban en camino—. Ahora necesito que esperes unos minutos aquí.

—¿Por qué…? —Steve no terminó la frase, Clint ya había salido del lugar.

—Entonces…debo entrar y… ¿luego? —cuestionaste a la vez que eras guiada por tus amigas.

—Dejar que todo fluya —sentenció Natasha abriendo la puerta y empujándote adentro.

Te quitaste la tela que cubría tus ojos, parpadeaste varias veces para adaptarte a la luz.

—¿Qué haces aquí? —Steve te preguntó.

—Te iba a preguntar lo mismo, mis amigas me dijeron que tendríamos una noche de chicas…

—Barton me dijo que teníamos una misión…

Voltearon hacia la mesa, la cena ya estaba servida, se sentaron a comer y comenzaron a platicar algunos recuerdos de su infancia.

—Steve, hay algo que tiene tiempo que he querido decirte…

Respiraste hondo, por fin te ibas a atrever a confesarle tus sentimientos.

—Me gustas —dijeron al unisonó, después se vieron el uno al otro y se rieron.

—Creo que caímos en la trampa de Natasha y Clint —comentó Steve.

—Pues funcionó muy bien, entonces supongo que…

—Si quizás deberíamos…

Él tomó tu rostro entre sus manos y te besó.

—Sólo espero que no ellos no lleguen tarde al entrenamiento —comentó Natasha mientras abría la puerta del gimnasio.

Abrió los ojos estupefacta, ahí estaban ustedes sin ropa, tú encima de Steve, alzaste la vista cuando sentiste que alguien los observaba.

—¡Nat! —exclamaste en un susurro.

Ella cerró la puerta de inmediato y volteó hacia Clint, quien la veía con curiosidad.

—Creo que el entrenamiento empezará más tarde, vamos un rato a la cafetería —dijo antes de que Barton dijera algo y lo alejó de la puerta.

Treinta minutos más a solas no les caería nada mal. 

#happyhoelentinesday2021 #steve rogers x lectora

[trashywritestrash]

Just posted your gift!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! 🥺 It was so beautiful and soft and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside

#non content posts #nel answers #happyhoelentine’schallenge2021 #happyhoelentinesday2021