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#Steve Rogers fanfic
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Grumpy old man | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> BestFriend!Steve Rogers x BestFriend!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Steve is grumpy all day since he had seen you with an agent who is better known as a playboy.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.159
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> allusion of smut, fluff
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> hiii darling! so I've a request for Steve Rogers🥰 smutty Steve thing. best friends to lovers? Maybe Steve sees "his" girl talking with another agent or something ( platonic) and he's a bit jealous? She could find him being grumpy as hell all day so she goes to his room ask what's wrong?so the feelings and jealousy just comes out and he tells her how much he's in love? She can kiss him to shut him up? and leads to smut? Lots of love 🥰🥰 @rogersbarber
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the requests. It’s not with a lot of smut but I hope you still like what I made with your request.
𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 1K Follower Special | “Me and.… are just friends. You’re kidding, right? …. looks at you like you’re their entire world.” | @lives-in-midgard
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Blue eyes piercing in your back, he narrows and his jaw is clenched while he looks at you talking to another agent. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous — you’re best friends — but he just can’t help himself feeling that way. Especially when you’re talking to the agent, who is better known as the playboy.
Usually Steve isn’t a man who gets jealous, maybe because he doesn’t like a woman the way he likes you. But the two of you have been best friends forever, and he doesn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you because he fell for you. Little does he know that you’re just as much in love with him, and even though you like talking to the agents, none of them is like Steve or could give you the feelings you feel when he is around you or touches you. Even the slightest touch of him causes a desire inside of you.
Steve hums, rolling his eyes, when you hug the agents before you turn around and see Steve waving at him. He doesn’t wave at you; he just looks at you with narrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw. In his hand, he holds a piece of cake, which he squeezes, breaking it and letting it fall on the surface of the table.
“Hey, grumpy. What’s wrong, huh?” You ask teasingly, but Steve doesn’t answer.
He takes a bite of the cake, filling his mouth with it over and over again. You giggle slightly, taking a seat next to him and facing him. You look at him while he eats the cake with his grumpy expression.
When he’s finished and still doesn’t answer you, you place your hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a pout on your lips. Steve also ignores that one; he just turns away, gets up from the chair, and walks along the floor to his room.
“He’s been grumpy all day, hasn’t he?” Natasha asks, and you nod.
She is standing at the door, looking after Steve, before she turns toward you and walks closer, taking a seat in the chair next to you. She smiles at you, placing her warm, encouraging hand on your shoulder.
“Maybe you should talk with him.”
“About what? He didn’t tell me why he was grumpy.”
“Don’t act like you’re stupid; we both know you’re not stupid,” she says, but you just furrow in confusion. “Everyone can see that you like him, and he likes you.”
“Me and Steve are just best friends,” you say, smiling when you think about the man who owns your heart.
“You’re kidding, right?” She asks, but you shake your head.
Even when you could imagine being more than just friends, Steve probably doesn’t feel the same way about you. And you don’t want to tell him because when he doesn’t feel the same, it could ruin your friendship. So you just keep it to yourself and admire the older man whenever he is around you; you enjoy his soft touches or the cuddles during your movie nights.
“Steve looks at you like you’re his entire world.”
You gasp. Does he really look at you like that? Could he do it because he likes you more than you think, or is he just looking at you like that because that’s what best friends are doing? You’re too deep in your thoughts to realize another word that Natasha says until he taps your shoulder and brings you back into reality.
She turns the chair around and pushes you up, making you stand in front of her and look in the direction of the floor. Natasha rolls her eyes, chucking softly while she gets up as well, and pushes you in front of her through the room.
“Nat— I don’t think I should tell him now. Haven’t you seen how grumpy he was?” You ask, thinking to stop Natasha from pushing you further through the floor.
Before you can say something else, you’re standing in front of Steve’s door. Natasha knocks at the door, and then she walks to her room. Just in time, she closed her door when Steve opened it in front of you. He is still looking at you with his grumpy expression, and it makes him look pretty cute. You can’t stop yourself from giggling softly.
“Stevie,” you say, and he just nods.
“Wanna come in?”
He takes a step to the side, making space for you to enter the room before he closes the door behind you. You’re inhaling his scent deeply; it immediately relaxes you, and you walk with him to his bed, letting yourself fall down on it. Steve sits next to you, his back resting against the head board while he looks at you. His blue eyes are glistening, and a small smile appears on his lips when your eyes meet.
“Why are you so grumpy today?”
Steve’s gaze drops, his smile fades away, and he plays with his fingers in his lap. He always does when he is nervous, and you place your hand on his leg and draw small circles on it to clam him down. Steve wants to tell you what’s wrong and why he is grumpy, but he doesn’t know how. His hands are shaking and sweating, and he needs to rub them over his pants covered thighs to dry them. Steve sighs, swallowing harshly; his cheeks heat up, and then he looks at you.
“I—you've just talked with him. He is a playboy, and you were so close to him,” Steve says, lifting his hands.
He slides his fingers through his soft blond hair. Steve sighs deeply, looking away before he turns to face you again.
“He will only fuck you. He— he doesn’t like you like—“
“Like what, Steve?” You ask with a smile.
“Like I do.”
He turns away, blushing immediately. He rubs his hands once again over his pants. You smirk, turning around and getting on his lap. Steve looks confused for a moment, but when you capture his cheeks with your hand, he smiles softly. He leans closer, his breath hitting your lips, and you shiver slightly. Steve breaks the distance between the two of you, pressing his soft lips on yours and his hands finding their way to your hips.
Steve pulls you closer until you’re sitting on his growing bulge. It’s pressing uncomfortably in his pants and causes some friction between your legs when you slowly move your hips against him. You moan softly while Steve pulls away and looks with desire in his blue eyes into yours.
“I’m in love with you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
You smirk when you rock your hips against him, and he moans. Steve looks through his lashes, pushing his hips up to meet yours. His hands roam over your body, and he kisses along your neck, causing you to moan louder and rock your hips harder against his length.
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Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf
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avengerscompound · 20 hours
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The Interview - Chapter 20
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The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic
Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Rating:  E
Warnings: None
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes
Word Count: 1933
Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.
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Chapter 20
The two-block walk from where Melody had met Steve for lunch was a nightmare.  Most of the press stopped following after a couple of blocks but as the Daily Bugle paparazzi were going to the same place as she was, they stuck with them the whole time.  Steve tried to shield her body from the cameras to try and make it so that none of the photos would be worth very much money, and to reduce the risk of people recognizing her.  Melody knew that it was too late to protect her identity.  People had already been speculating, and besides, the person taking their photo as she reached the Daily Bugle was named Phil Sheldon.  If she knew him, he knew her.
They reached the entrance to the building.  Melody wanted so badly to bury her face in Steve’s chest and hide there, but she wasn’t willing to even risk a kiss goodbye with Phil still taking photos of them.  She turned and looked up at Steve.  “Can you just fuck off, Phil?” she said.
“Just doing my job, Mel,” he said. “You know how it is?”
“Yeah, well, don’t forget what my job is,” she said.
“Oh yeah, like Jameson will let you do anything that makes the Bugle look like it lacks scruples,” he said.
Steve shook his head.  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he said.  “I’ll call you when I get back to work.”
“Okay,” she said, giving him a nod.  He gently squeezed her hand before she went inside.
She went straight up to Jameson’s office.  She was fuming about the intrusion on her privacy by her workplace.  She even considered if it counted as workplace harassment and if she could sue over it.
She knocked on the door to Jameson’s office but didn’t wait for him to call her in.  He looked up from his computer but she was ranting before he had a chance to say a single word.  “How could you think it was okay to have photographers stalking me on my lunch?” she snapped.  “You know this is harassment?  I work here!  It’s bad enough that you think it’s okay to harass other people, but this is my job!  Do you know how absolutely toxic it is for me to have to come in here and work with the people stalking me!?  I could sue!”
“Woah, woah, woah!” Jameson said, getting up from his desk. “Let’s not go throwing the ‘s’ word around.  You know that this is what we do here.  And Captain America’s love life is going to sell papers.  Besides, you told us where you were going to be.”
“I absolutely did not!” she argued.  “Why the hell would I do that?  Why would I betray Steve like that?” 
“I don’t know,” he said, throwing his hands up over his head. “You sent it to all the tabloids.  I was a little miffed you weren’t giving me the exclusive, to be honest.  I assumed you wanted to get yourself a little fame and recognition.”
“Over my relationship?” she groaned. “Jonah?  Really?”
“How was I supposed to know?” he said, spinning his computer screen around and opening the email.  “Maybe you were having relationship troubles.”
She looked over the screen.  The email did have her return address, but it lacked her official DB! signature.  Someone had cloned her email address.  It was easy enough to do.  That didn’t explain how they knew where and when she was having lunch with Steve though.  They didn’t have a regular lunch date time, nor did they just go to the same few venues over and over again and she hadn’t written down where and when she was having lunch today.”
She scowled and pulled out her phone.  “Tell me the truth, Jonah.  Do you have someone spying on me?”
“I may be lacking in scruples, Danes, but I don’t stoop that low,” he said.
“So drop the story then,” she said. 
“No, no,” he said. “I can’t do that.  And what’s the point anyway?  It’ll be all over TMZ in an hour.” 
She sighed.  He was right.�� It was out now and there wasn’t a hell of a lot she could do about it, except ride the wave.  She didn’t expect Steve’s fans to take it very well, but it was something she had been mentally preparing for for months.
“Fine,” she said. “You can run it, but I expect my workplace to be safe for me, Jonah.  I can’t come here just expecting to have to watch my back because you want to report on my boyfriend.  He and the other Avengers have been doing me a lot of favors to get your website up and profitable.  You could at least show them some respect in return for that generosity.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jameson said, waving his hand.  “I’m not going to smother a story just because someone did me a favor.  Where’s the ethics in that?”
“Oh so now you’re worried about ethics?” she snarked.  “Look, there’s a difference between taking our photo out because you happen to find us and stalking me to where we’re going.  I’m just asking that you respect the difference.”
Jameson huffed and sat back down in his chair.  “Fine.  No stalking.  But it wouldn’t hurt you to occasionally mention him in your pieces.”  She went to argue with him but he held up his hand.  “Nothing big.  Just the kind of stuff you already do in your column from time to time.  You know what I mean?  Talking about a coffee shop you tried with your boyfriend.  Or how nice it is to wake up with someone else there.  You don’t have to name him.  And you don’t have to talk about your sex lives.  Just teasers.  The people will eat it up.  If we get those exclusives, we won’t need the photos of you both together.  In fact, anytime someone else takes photos of you both together, it’ll just sell your work more.”
She sighed.  It sounded so sordid and dirty.  But the truth was, she had been writing about her life in the columns, and Steve had been slipping into those.  She didn’t name him, just the same as she never named anyone in those columns.  Anyone who knew she was dating Steve could go back and infer it was him she’d been talking about.  She also knew Steve knew she did it.  He read the columns daily and would talk to her about them.  It was natural to write it, and she wasn’t doing it to cash in on her relationship.
Now that it was out she was dating Steve, and Jameson was asking her to write about it, it felt dirty and exploitative.  She didn’t want to take advantage of Steve that way.  She didn’t want her relationship with him to be picked over by the public.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
“Well, if that’s it,” Jameson said, waving her toward the door.  “We have papers to sell.” 
“I don’t work for the paper, Jonah,” she said as she headed out the door.
“Clicks, magazines.  Do your job,” he yelled after her.
She headed back to her office, still fairly agitated but no longer fuming.  She didn’t know what she was going to do about her column, and she didn’t like how she felt about her job in general.  Someone was spying on her and she had to go to work with the same people who were invading her personal space.
The dread she felt about what was going to happen to her social media when those photos came out, only compounded the feelings.  She didn’t think they’d have gotten wind of it yet.  As quickly as TMZ could move, she still didn’t think the photos would be up yet.  But she couldn’t help but pick up her phone to see if anyone had started to tweet her.
The phone rang in her hand and Steve’s photo showed up on her screen.  She leaned back in her chair and hit connect, putting her earbuds in.  “Hey, you,” she said.  “Are you okay?”
“Of course, honey,” he said.  “I wanted to check in on you.  I’ve been dealing with this since World War II.  You haven’t, and the only reason you’re dealing with it now, is because of me.”
Melody couldn’t help but laugh at that.  “See I was going to say that it was my fault they were there.”
“Oh are we playing that game are we?” Steve teased. “Go on, tell me how you think it’s your fault.”
“I’m serious, Steve!” she squealed.
“I’m sure you are, sweetheart,” he chuckled.  “Go on, tell me what you’re thinking, considering I’m the famous one.”
She bit back laughter.  It was good to know this whole situation hadn’t upset him, and that he was so worried about her own well-being.  “Steve!” she yelped.  “Listen okay?”
“I’m listening,” he laughed.
“So I went up to see Jameson when I got back here.  I was really pissed that he’d sent photographers out to follow us back to the office.  He said I’d sent him an email to tell him and the rest of the press I was going to be there,” she explained.
“Why would you do that?” Steve asked.
“I didn’t do that,” she said.  “But he had an email from my address.  You can fake return addresses.  But I don’t know how anyone would have known where we were even going. It’s not like I wrote it down anywhere and we don’t just go back to the same restaurant all the time.  I think someone overheard the phone call.  Which makes me feel really safe here at work.  And now Jameson wants me to talk about you more in my column.  I don’t know what to do, Steve.  We just moved into a new apartment.  We’re on a lease.  I can’t afford to quit my job.  And Bobbi works here too!  What if they do it to her as well.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve said quickly.  “If someone is listening in to your conversations, then they can hear you right now.”
“Right.  Right,” she said.  “Of course, they could be.”  This was where they were now.  She couldn’t trust her job or anyone around her.  She wanted to believe that the staff she’d selected were all trustworthy, but now she couldn’t be sure.
“Can you come here after work?” Steve asked.  “I’d like to get Tony to check your phone for bugs.”
“Yeah, of course,” she said.  “I’ll come straight over.”
“I’ll get Bucky to invite Bobbi around too,” he said.  “We can talk this out.  All of it.  What you want to do with your job.  About how we keep our private lives private.  The column.  All of it.  Okay?”
“Yeah,” she said.  “Okay.  Thank you, Steve.”
“I love you, sweetheart,” Steve said.  “This isn’t your fault.  Someone is using you to get to me.  We just have to work out how to stop them.”
“Okay,” she said, letting out a deep breath.  She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this man.  “I love you too.  I’ll see you tonight.”
She disconnected the call and sat back in her chair, staring at the phone which she was now fairly sure had betrayed her trust.  “Traitor,” she mumbled, tossing it onto her desk.  Closing her eyes she took a deep breath.  It was a lot to deal with but she knew Steve trusted her.  For now, that was the main thing.  She’d build everything else off that trust and together they’d figure this out.
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// NEXT
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imyourbratzdoll · 17 days
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Breeding Kink Steve/Bucky eventho you already have a couple of kids 🫣
hi baby! I'm so sorry for taking so long, I hope you like what I wrote.
summary - breeding kink gone wild, your husbands take it to the next level by forever wanting you to carry their child.
warning - smut, breeding kink, sorta dubcon but not really, mentions of pregnancy, creampie, threesome.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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“C’mon, Doll. Let us pump you full, want you to have our babies.” Bucky groans in your ear, pressed against your back where you can feel his bulge. You whine, letting out a breathy whimper as Steve grips your hips, pressing soft kisses to your neck, occasionally marking it as well.
“What do you say, Sweetheart? Wanna be full of our cum?”
You squirm, vision becoming hazy as lust clouds your mind. “B–but, we already have two…” Your head falls back, moaning loudly as their cocks slide inside of you without much warning. You didn’t even see them take their cocks out. Your cunt clenches around them, arousal dripping down their thick members, making it easier for them to thrust into you.
“Doesn’t matter, Doll. We wanna breed you forever and watch you grow with our child.” Bucky thrusts in and out, hands sliding up your body until they grasp your breasts. His moans so close to your ear that it causes tingles to spread throughout your body, your cunt clenching around your men. 
Steve groans, biting down on his bottom lip hard as he looks down at you with dark eyes. Your own cloudy ones connect with his, lips parting as you feel them pulse inside of you, gripping them tightly when they hit your sweet spot. Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and groans slip past his lips as he pounds into you hard and fast, feeling your little cunt clench around him from his brutal thrusts. 
They continue to have their way with you, fucking you so hard that you see stars. Your juices squirt out of you, causing their cocks to twitch and pump you full of their cum once again. Filling you with large amounts that will likely be the cause of your next pregnancy. Steve and Bucky take turns kissing your lips before cleaning you up. They lay you down on your large bed and grin as they caress your stomach, waiting for the moment you pop this one out for them to start all over again. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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IF YOU’RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW)- S.G ROGERS
Pairing:  Uni! Nerd! Steve x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: you’re the new girl at school, and the more steve rogers sees you, the more his crush grows. after a few weeks of texting, a date is set. but he doesn't hook up on the first date, because that's not being a gentleman. right? 
Warnings: SMUT, pure filth, praise kink, slight degradation, daddy kink, spanking, cum play, dry humping, dirty talk, manhandling, petnames, swearing, biting/ marking, size kink, but lots of fluff :))
“maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes, im not playing with you baby- i think that you should give it a go. she said, maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes... i wanna see and stop thinking if youre too shy, then let me know”- if youre too shy (let me know), the 1975
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“She's so beautiful Buck. You’ll just love her.” Steve insisted, baby blues all wide and excited, cheeks tinted pink as he ran his hands through his blonde locks, tugging on the strands a bit harder than he’d normally- the butterflies plaguing his muscles. 
He had never felt so in love, and he hadn't even talked to you in person yet. It was a sickness, the love drunk that had occurred, no amount of Advil or water the cure to the hangover. 
Bucky was sick of him. He was sure of it. 
He had blabbed about you for weeks now, seeming to go in a daze as he’d ramble on. Mhmm. Well, just talk to her after class Steve! 
He’d just shake his head. He couldn't just do that! How could he? You were so alluring, a siren calling him out from sea. Steve just couldn't… the courage he had always had seeming to come to a halt. It was abrupt, a deer in headlights as he watched you walk into the lecture hall. 
The new girl. Full of spunk and energy, a bright smile on your face as you looked around the room, meeting his eye. He offered you a small smile, a little wave before you found your place near the front. 
You matched his energy well. So well, he was scared you weren't even real. Her name is Y/N. You want her number or something? His friend Natasha had asked him earlier that month, nudging his shoulder to gather his attention again. Sorry. Yes, please. He was too busy daydreaming about you again, gaze drifting off to the endless rows of books in the old library. 
Steve had been anxious to send the text, his endless pacing back and forth enough to drive Bucky straight up the wall. He had never seen the man so nervous. Especially over a girl. 
Should I do it? What do I say? Is this weird? Shut the fuck up already and send something Rogers you're driving me insane. He had replied, smacking a pillow over his head to tune Steve out. He gathered his wits about him, taking a deep breath before he hit send.
 hey, it’s steve, from tuesdays class. not sure if you remember me, but i’m the blonde who waved lol. i got your number from a friend, hope thats okay:) 
There. He had done it! Now was the waiting. But it didn’t last long, as his phone buzzed in his pocket only a few minutes later. 
hey you! yes yes, i remember. i’m Y/N <3 
I know, he wanted to say. Instead, he acted dumb. Dumb and sweet was the way to your heart he found out later, all the sweet messages and daily photos of each other's day blossomed into something more than just classmates. 
But he still hadn't talked to you in person yet. And he knew you were too shy to say anything first- so it was just a waiting game. Finally, all these days later- he had asked you on a date. 
Nothing major. Nothing fancy. Just coffee, and a walk around the villa. Simple and fun, Bucky had reassured, thankful his best friend had finally made the move. He was blind if he thought you weren't into him. Blind and stupid. 
Bucky walked with him now, bundling his jacket tighter around himself as the slight breeze ruffled his hair. It was a cool evening, but not freezing- a perfect happy medium for the season. 
“I’m sure she is. Since you never seem to shut up about her.” Bucky teased, resulting in a smack across the arm from Steve. 
“I’m serious man. I’m just so anxious about this. What if she actually like.. hates me or something?”
 “Impossible. And if anything goes wrong, I’m just three blocks away.” Bucky shrugged, as Steve’s phone buzzed.
five mins away :)
“She’s almost here.” he sighed, starting to fidget with his rings as Bucky dropped him off at the cafe's doors. He had never felt this tense before a date, which he knew meant he really, really liked you. The countless times he had stalked your social media and hours of sleep he lost due to waiting to hear back from you had proved that. 
So what could possibly go wrong? 
 “Well get a table, talk about the weather- and it’ll be all good from there.”
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“And so I told him no, because like what? That's not just something you do at a gas station?” you laughed, making Steve nearly choke on his coffee. You were so happy to be sitting with the man you had been swooning over for weeks now, heart fluttering the second the two of you locked eyes in the lecture hall. 
He was dreamy, gush-worthy standards. And now here he was, so many days later- sitting in front of you with a cup of coffee in hand. You had examined his choice of drink very carefully, knowing that could reflect on many things. Just as many other little things did, like if he slept with socks on or if he only picked the m&ms out of trail mix. 
Steve had a safe, solid choice- two creams and one sugar. Dark roast. You knew he was a good one.
 “I’m sure. Jesus people are crazy.” he snorted, swirling the little wooden stir stick around in his coffee as he admired you. You felt yourself start to fold in on itself the longer he gazed at you, stare so deep and meaningful you were scared you'd start giggling and kicking your feet right there. 
You wouldn't be surprised if you did. Steve had that effect on you, always making you swoon from across the class, each text he sent making you smile. He had a heart next to his contact name, for god's sake. But there was no way in hell you'd tell him that. At least not on the first date. 
You weren't even sure if he liked you back- as sometimes flirting flew straight over your head. You were funny like that sometimes. But tonight had seemed to have gone well, at least in your mind. The two of you had been talking for hours, getting little pastries and new drinks to try throughout the evening. It was dark out now, the moon high in the sky, shining down on the little vintage cafe with its dozens of tealights and oil lamps. 
You sipped your drink, still hot on the tongue as you met his stare. He smiled. That goddamn, cheeky smile that kept you up at night. One that screamed danger, and mischief and everything you wanted. A thrill, an adventure. Something fun- something your small town refused to offer. 
“Whatta thinking about?” he asked, breaking the easy silence that lingered over the pair of you like a veil. Like you were in your own little bubble, where no one could touch you. 
“Just you. And how you're different.” His eyebrow quirked up. “How so?” 
“ Well you haven't asked me to take off my clothes. Or made any sexual comments. Or said ‘maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes’, so I like you.” you said, taking another sip of coffee to let those words digest. 
He just smiled, shaking his head slowly. “Well of course not. I mean, not that you aren't beautiful and so fucking hot and I mean-” 
You laughed. 
“Okay, you know what I’m getting at. But what I’m trying to say is that I’m a gentleman. And I would never ask that of you if you didn’t want it.” A sly grin tugged at your lips, legs crossing under the table as you squeezed your thighs together. 
“What if I want it?”
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“I don’t normally do this on the first date ya know.” Steve murmured against your neck, breath hot as he kissed down your neck, grip tightening around your thighs as he hosted you up against the wall. 
It had been a few hours later, some odd hour in the night after the coffee and the little walk down the side streets, popping into old bookstores and antique stores where he watched you marvel over little things like signed paperbacks and old purses his great grandma probably had. He was infatuated with you. 
Somehow his hand had ended up intertwined with yours, your arm bumping his as he walked you back to your place. Do you… maybe wanna come inside? You had asked, little doe eyes wide, voice as soft as silk. How could he say no? He never said no to you. 
Now here he was, dry humping you in your entranceway, barely two steps in the door before your lips had met his. You were drawn to him like a magnet, falling under his spell as your neck rolled back against the plaster, letting him have more access.
 “No? Wanting to keep up your gentlemanly acts? Promise I won't tell.” you teased, breath hitching as he traced your collarbone with his nose, finally sinking his teeth into the soft skin. Your hips rolled against his lower abs, desperate for any friction you could get. 
“Pinky promise?” he breathed, causing a moan to escape your parted lips as he squeezed your skin, licking the teeth marks as he dipped his mouth even lower. 
“P-pinky.” you stuttered. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly, movements blurring as if he was switching the lenses on your eyesight. Hands were on your ass, in his hair, tugging on those beautiful long strands to then wrap around his neck. 
Teeth clashed with tongue as he devoured you whole, and you felt as if you were on a carnival ride as he spun you over to your bedroom. You prayed he didn’t notice the piles of old, dog-eared books that were piled against the wall so high they were on the verge of toppling over, or your cluttered nightstand with so many candles and jewelry it had no other purpose. Steve didn’t seem to mind the mess, solely focused on how your breath sounded when it was uneven and when you were flustered, the giggles that emerged when he tossed you down on the sheets like a sack of potatoes. 
You liked being manhandled by him. You liked how he had wasted no time throwing you up against the wall, taking charge in such a respectful, yet sexy manner. This had only happened in your late-night thoughts, little flirty texts that you had sent when you got the courage past eleven pm nothing compared to this. You had always wondered what he would be like in bed, ever since you stepped foot in that classroom. It didn’t disappoint in the slightest. 
“God you're so- so fucking hot. You know how many times I've thought of this? Hearing your little noises when I make you feel good?” You whined. He groaned, tugging off your pants. 
“Yeah. Yeah, fuck like that baby. You’re such a good girl for me aren't you?” 
There it was. That was the money shot. Something in your demeanor shifted, eyes wide as you nodded frantically. Yes. Yes, you were and he knew it. “Please Steve just-”
 “Just what angel face? Hmm? Fuck you?” he antagonized you, as if he was talking to a mere child.
“Please. Please fuck.” The words had barely left your lips before he grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you were presented to him, ass in the air, face deep in the sheets. Your shirt had yet to come off, but you had a feeling it was going to meet your bottoms on the hardwood, the two of you too desperate to both with the flimsy article of clothing.
 “God you're so easy to manhandle. You like that huh? Being tossed around like a slut?” 
“Mhmmm god yes..” you moaned, letting out a quick yelp as he smacked your ass lightly, your hands curling into tight little fists as you gripped the blankets. You could feel the breath get trapped in your lungs as he kissed the skin he had just slightly marked, lips like a cooling serum to the heat in your belly. 
“Breathe angel. Just breathe for me yea? You tell me when it’s too much.” 
“What, don’t wanna get too freaky on the first date?” you chriped out, making him laugh. 
“Something like that.”
 “I like this, ya know. I like you. And I don’t feel shy around you, like I have with other people. You’re good to me, Steve.” 
He smiled softly, chest blooming with warmth at your reassuring words. He was so happy. All he wanted was for you to  feel comfortable around him, to feel wanted. Because he wanted you. Oh, gods did he ever want you.
 “Good.” was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. “Fuck. Fuck fuck you feel so fucking good.” was all he could moan, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed around him, adjusting to his size. 
He was big. Like extremely big.  All you could do was whimper, praying to every god that was out there that you could take him. 
“S’big Stevie. M’all full.” you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words. “Yea baby? I’m just so much bigger than you- aren't I? Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use.” 
He brushed your g-spot as his hips began to snap, cock drilling into you so fast you swore you saw stars. All you could do was hold onto the bed, allowing your body to fall limp, going slack as he used you. 
“You're so good. Such a good, good princess.” he praised, large hand pressed down slightly on your back as you arched, moans muffling into the sheets. You prayed your neighbors weren't home, or else you knew you'd get the dirty looks and silent treatment tomorrow.
 Totally worth it, you thought with a dazed-out smile, listening to the sounds of the bed drilling against the wall, springs squeaking in time with his groans, the squelching wet noises of your juices coating his cock. 
“M’not gonna last.” you whimpered softly. “S’okay baby. Be a good girl and cum f’me okay poppet?” 
You nodded, rumpled sheets bunching tighter between your closed fists as you squeezed him so tight it was suffocating, your clit pulsing a steady rhythm as you came with a cry. 
“Atta girl. Milking me dry baby, you really needed that didn’t you?”
 “Y-yea Daddy..” 
Heat rose to your cheeks. The name had rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, the filter that normally was placed over your words now gone in your dazed-out state. What if you fucked up? That wasn't supposed to come out. 
“F-fuck. Daddy huh? I should've known you’d like that shit. Not as much as me though baby.” he growled, grabbing your hips harshly, his thrusts becoming harder, quicker, more erratic. 
“Daddy’s making you feel so good hm?”
 “So good Daddy. Want you to fuck me alll the timee.” you giggled softly, whining as you felt him slip out of your abused hole.
 “Wha-”
 “Shhh poppet. I didn’t bring any condoms with me and we aren't risking it on the first date.” he shushed you, spilling his seed onto your lower back, stilling your wiggling movements as you begged. 
You felt the warm, white liquid ooze against your skin, dribbling down your ass as you wiggled it. The pad of Steve's fingers made you jump, the soft, gentle touch adding even more to the post-orgasm haze.
 “I-I have some in my drawer for next time.” He trailed his fingers against the delicate skin, smearing the cum down your thighs, giving you a quick little smack. 
“Good to know sweetheart.” he smiled, watching as you slowly turned to face him, doe eyes wide, lips parted slightly.
 “So when’s the next date?”
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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 months
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"Slut!"
Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.
Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
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"She goes through guys like a train-"
You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.
"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.
You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."
"I'm used to it."
"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"
"A slut," you finish for him.
His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."
You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.
It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.
It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.
They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.
You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.
It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.
You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.
There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.
And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.
In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.
For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.
That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.
You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.
This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.
Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."
"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."
It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.
Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"
"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.
"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.
"For what?"
"You warned me this would happen."
It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.
You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.
Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.
It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.
But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.
You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.
No one knew how bad it would get.
"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."
"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."
You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"
He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."
"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.
The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.
It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.
At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.
You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.
But it didn't end there. Not even close.
The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.
From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.
You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.
"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."
Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"
"I've been better."
"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."
"What now, Tony?"
"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"
You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"
"They want me to take over for you."
You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."
"No, don't do that. It's for dad."
"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."
"They broke into my house, Tony."
"What? Are you okay?"
"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"
"Where was your security?" Tony demands.
"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."
"I'm so sorry."
"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."
You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."
"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."
And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.
You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.
It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."
"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."
And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"
Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
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Cuddle bug
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PAIRING | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT | ~ 900 words
SUMMARY | Steve comes home from a long mission, and all he wants is to be cuddled up in bed with his favorite person. However, your shared secret threatens to be spilled when your good friend walks in the door and finds the two of you in bed together.
RATING | Teen (T)
WARNINGS/TAGS | Established (secret) relationship, use of nickname (Doll).
A/N | This little drabble is written based on a request I received from a sweet Anon! As soon as I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist writing a little something, so I hope you will all enjoy it! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm forever grateful. I love you 🩷
EVENTS Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Secret relationship Masterlist | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Can't Warm Up Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | "That is America's ass."
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Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source
Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Steve has been away on an extended mission—three and a half weeks and counting—and you're missing him more than ever. The two of you started dating only a few months ago, though it mainly takes place behind closed doors. You cannot get enough of one another whenever you are alone. Still, when other people are around, it is strictly professional—apart from the occasional reassuring smile you give one another.
Within the Avengers, there is no opposition to team members dating. Still, Steve has specifically asked to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to explore the connection between you two. It is the perfect way to get to know each other personally, and the last few months have been amazing because of that.
Now, you find yourself in your bedroom, curled up in your comfiest armchair with a good book and Alpine beside you. Since Bucky is on the same mission as Steve, you have taken over her care, and she's purring away in her sleep on the windowsill, enjoying the warm spring sun.
Just as you're about to finish your chapter, you hear a knock on your door, and you look up, expecting Natasha or maybe Tony to come by, but when you see who walks in the door, you smile brightly. Steve is back from his mission.
"Hi, Doll. I missed you," he tells you as he walks into the room, and your book lies abandoned in your chair. He's still wearing his suit and the shield on his back, letting you know he came to visit you right away, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.
"Steve, you're back already! I thought you would be gone for another few days!" Your arms are wrapped around his waist as you plaster yourself against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against your cheek as he gives you soft kisses on the top of your head. His hands rub soothingly over your back as he inhales your sweet scent.
"Mission got wrapped up early, so I figured I'd come home to my girl as soon as possible," Steve says. You lift your head to meet his gaze, warmth spreading through your cheeks as he calls you his girl.
"I love it when you call me your girl; it makes me feel special," you say shyly, and Steve can't help but chuckle.
"I'm glad because I cannot stop calling you that," he tells you before kissing you in a sweet, soft kiss. You two take your time to bask in one another's familiarity, but he pulls away when he can feel a shiver run down your spine.
"I think it's time we had some cuddles, Doll. You're shivering," he whispers, and you nod.
"That sounds good. You know I can't warm up properly with you there," you tell him, and he smiles knowingly. Before you know it, Steve has put down the shield, and his suit is folded neatly on top. As he bends down to put his boots away as well, you happen to glance over, and you're met with the glorious sight of Steve's butt being wrapped perfectly by his light blue boxer briefs, highlighting it beautifully.
"Hmm, so that is America's ass," you say jokingly. You have seen it clothed and bare countless times, but you still can't help saying it. The bright red flush covering Steve's cheeks has you smiling wide, and you can't get enough of the sight.
You have also taken your clothes off, being left in your underwear as you crawl under the covers with Steve. Due to the super soldier serum, his body temperature is always warmer than a regular person's, so he makes a perfect cuddle companion during the nights and colder months.
"Welcome back, Steve. I missed you and your warmth so much," you whisper when you're lying in his arms, your leg thrown over his, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. The comforter is pulled up to your chin, and you're just about to fall asleep when you hear a few knocks on your door.
"Y/N? I'm here to pick up Alpine!" you hear Bucky's voice carry through the door before he swings it open, and you immediately sit upright in the bed, clutching the comforter to your chest, leaving Steve exposed in the bed in the process.
"B-Bucky, hi!" you say as embarrassment floods your body that you're caught in bed with your boyfriend. Bucky's face turns bright red as he looks at the two of you, his mouth opening and closing without words as he tries to understand what's happening. Without saying another word, he turns around and closes the door behind him, leaving you two to wonder what just happened.
"I should go talk to him, Doll," Steve says as he leans in for a kiss, which you happily give him.
"Okay, but only if you promise to come back soon. I can't miss you for too long again!" you tell him, and he nods with a smile before jumping into his pants. The rest of his suit and his shield are left behind as he runs after Bucky to explain what is going on between you two.
While you were embarrassed at first, you're also a little relieved that you can finally share the love between you two with someone. This is going to be the first step to telling everyone about your relationship, too. It won't be long before you don't have to carry this secret around anymore, and you're looking forward to that day finally being here.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months
Text
I still got a few rounds left in me
kinktober, day thirteen
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a/n: ...i have such a thing for fighters, it's bad....
warnings: boxer!steve rogers x reader, smut, established relationship, domestic bliss, kissing, foreplay, bathtub sex
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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You felt like a little marshmallow floating atop a warm mug of hot chocolate as you laid there in the tub, staring out at the dark skyline. The melody of soft rain drizzling against the window lulled you even further as your hand lazily played with the bubbles foaming at the surface. 
“Hey,” you suddenly heard, spinning your head around to spot your burly boyfriend gazing at your relaxed visage from the doorway, raindrop-painted gym clothes still hugging his form. 
“Steve,” you gasped, spine straightening, “you’re home! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you would be asleep already, so I tried to be quiet.”
“In a bit, I just wanted to wash the day away first, you know?” you sighed, “fall back down to earth before I try and fall asleep…” Offering you a gentle nod, he then stepped further into the bathroom, a soft smile still fast on his lips as he began to peel his clothes off. You couldn’t help but giggly ask, “what are you doing?” as the fighter slowly revealed more and more of his rippling physique, his eyes staying locked with yours the entire time. 
“Well, I was gonna take a shower,” his shorts hit the floor mere seconds before he planted his palms on either side of the tub, “but you’re making that bath look so good.” 
As he lowered himself in, your giggle morphed into a laugh as the bubbles began to make a run for it, “you’re gonna flood the entire bathroom!”
“Then it’s a good thing we have something called towels,” fully submerged, he simply leaned in to kiss you. 
Arms wrapping around his broad shoulders, the current scooped you a bit closer, your legs intuitively entangling up and over his thick thighs. As your hands drifted over his skin, your fingers paused and took time to dig into a few of the muscles on his upper back. Parting from the tender peck, you deepened your massage momentarily as you asked, “are you sore?”
With his own arms tangled around you, he murmured, “not really, I didn’t really go too hard today,” before he lifted you further up onto his lap, his broad palm firm on your back so that your chest pressed flush against his, making your soapy tits share their suds. 
It took you approximately two seconds before you noticed the raging hard-on, poking you under the water, “oh my god…” you chuckled, tilting your chin back as you gazed at his smirk, “what are you trying to do, huh, champ?”
His hands slowly raked down your back before they found the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that shot directly to your aching clit, “like I said, I didn’t go too hard today, so I still got a few rounds left in me…”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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georgiapeach30513 · 8 months
Text
Your Mark On Me, Part 1
Summary: when you need something to help you stay alert study, you found a whole lot more than you were looking for. Tatted and massive. He was what your dreams were made of, but is he a nightmare? He claimed you, and now he intends on keeping you. No matter what the cost.
Pairings: Tattooed!Steve Rogers X Innocent!Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, selling drugs, taking drugs (adderall/marijuana), non con/dub con thigh riding, thigh riding with an audience, taunting, threating, a bit of degradation, teasing, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 3.3K
Series Masterlist
*Tattoo edit by the amazing @randomagnes0210
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Putting your car into park, you take a deep breath as you stare at the club in front of you. If you weren’t desperate, you wouldn’t be here. You had run through all the possibilities in your head, and this seemed like the best solution. Your grades started to slip after the breakup, and it was like you couldn’t concentrate. You couldn’t stay awake, and you weren’t able to study.
But this was beyond desperation. This was complete lunacy to be driving up to the belly of the beast. The rumblings of this club were more than just gossip. People who started doing more than taking the pills came here. The allure of big money and protection with Steve Rogers was hard to resist.
You didn’t want to sell, but you also didn’t want to buy from anybody on campus. You just need a few pills to get through finals. That was all. Enough to keep you awake to study, and then you were out. It made sense to go straight to the source for that. You didn’t care what it took. You just need to stay alert.
Exhaling deeply, you get out of your car. The bass of the music rumbles deep in your body the closer you get, mimicking the pounding in your chest. You can hardly breathe, and you know that your pulse is visible. You didn’t do things like this. You can’t afford jail time or even a mark on your record. You’d lose all scholarships, and have to drop out, and this would all have been in vain.
Stepping up to the door, a brutish man towers over you. His shoulders are wide and broad, and his arms as thick as your legs. Casting your eyes down to the ground, you get a glint of metal as his fingers. The man tilts chin up, and you tremble. Your whole body shivers with fear.
“Why are you here? You look like a scared little lamb coming to slaughter. It’s just a night club, darling,” his silver blue eyes look behind you, casting their gaze all through the parking lot. Seemingly looking for someone with you before looking back at you.
“Are you alone?”
“Y-y-yes,” you hiccup, trying to tilt your head back down, but even his finger was enough to keep you in your place.
“Why are you here?”
“I-I-I…”
“You’re not cut out to be a pusher. Your fear shows you know exactly what goes on upstairs. You offering up your flesh? I’m sure there are several that would love to feast on you.”
“Oh, god, you eat people? I’m sorry,” tears blur your eyes, but the man lets out a harrowing laugh at your expense. Grabbing onto your wrist as he pulls you in the club. This was it, you are going to die, and all because you thought you needed Adderall to stay awake.
“Oh, you’ll be eaten. There’s nothing more delicious than the honey between a woman’s legs. Your body will be trembling for a very different reason besides fear. It’ll be pure unadulterated pleasure. Pleasure so grand you won’t even know where you are. That is, if you get the right client.”
“I don’t want to be a whore. I want to go home,” he pulls you into an elevator, waiting on the doors to close before his sneering face is rounding back on you. Inching ever closer before both his hands go on either side of you. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry.”
“You’re right. You are just a scared little girl. Steve will have fun with you. Tell me, little lamb, why are you here? You wouldn’t be good at selling, and judging by the sweat beading around your hairline, and you recoiling into your skin, I bet that cherry is still fresh and ripe in between your thighs, so selling your skin doesn’t seem like you. Someone offer you up as a sacrifice, giving you all sweet and innocent up to some man that is going to destroy you? You wired, sweetheart?”
“No,” you sob. Shaking your head. “No, I’m by myself. Honestly.”
“Tell it to Steve,” he growls as the doors open up, and he pushes you forward. “Go on,” it is hard to move with the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your body pulses with fear. Convulsing uncontrollably, and when you see the cherry of a blunt light up in a corner, a dark figure clouded by even more darkness, and you yelp.
Attempting to turn around, and get past this behemoth of a man, but it was pointless. You are trapped. Just like a mouse in a maze waiting on her predator to pounce. A hand drops down on the arm of the chair, and almost every inch of it is covered in black ink. Rings adorn all his fingers. Rolling them along the fluffy arm, but never bringing his face into the light.
Inhaling a long drag of his joint you can almost make out some features on his face, and it only gives you more to be afraid of. He was just as big as the man that was refusing to let you go. “What have we here, Bucky? Did you bring me a little angel to sit on my lap? What’s your name, darling?”
He clears his throat when you don’t answer. Chuckling when you’re able to squeak out your name, “You’re just as sweet as an innocent Dove. I think that’s what I’m going to call you. Now, why don’t you come and sit on my lap, and let me get a better look at you?”
“No,” the answer comes out quickly, and much more surely than you were expecting.
He slowly stands up from his chair, twisting his neck to the side and a sickening pop rolls through every bone in his spine, and he takes one solid step forward, and his body is out of the shadows. Another step, and you see just how dangerously handsome he is. Tattoos erupt over every inch of his skin, except his face. A boyish quality to him with the smile of the devil, himself.
You have nowhere to go, because the brick wall behind you is nudging you closer to Steve, and the gap gets smaller. Steve’s thick hand raises the roach to his mouth, and inhales long. Flicking the stick to the side, he completely closes the gap. His hard muscles, coupled with the ones behind you stifle your breathing, and all you can do is stare up at him.
He blows out a puff of smoke, before his thick fingers close around your neck. Not tight enough to hurt you, but it would take only a second for him to start crushing your windpipe. “What did you say to me? Did you just tell me, Steve Rogers, no? Dovey, I could have you bent over this couch, and let every man that works for me stuff you full of cock, and there’s nothing you could fucking do about it. I was being nice when I asked you to sit on my lap. I just wanted to look at you. And now that I’m closer to you, I’m demanding you sit in my lap. The pleasantries are gone, sweetheart. So if you don’t want everyone to watch you take my fat cock, I would suggest you listen.”
Without warning, he walks back to his chair in the dark, and that ringed finger rubs over his thigh, “He won’t ask twice,” Bucky whispers into your ear, and you shuffle your feet over to Steve.
“You won’t hurt me?” His eyes roll up to meet yours, and he shakes his head no. Waiting for you to gently sit down, and a possessive hand, lays too high up on your thigh. Rubbing on it, and his fingers dip too low between your thighs. “I don’t like this.”
“I would have been much kinder had you just sat down, and not defied me. You wired?” You shake your head no, and his fingers move all the way up your legs. Roaming around at the apex of your thighs before cupping your covered core. Drifting up higher, and he cups each breast, and runs up the swells of them. Another hand sweeps down your back, until he grunts in satisfaction.
“You understand why I have to check? A pretty and sweet girl in a place like this. It’s like they know my weakness. There is something about fresh meat. Has anyone ever touched you, sweetheart?” You stare dead faced at him. You weren’t answering. You didn’t have to defy him, but that's none of his business.
“They haven’t. Your pussy was throbbing so hard, and that sweet little sigh you let out. I can make you feel good if you let me touch you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I just want to go home.”
He clicks his tongue as his eyes roam over your body. Getting too close as he sniffs up your neck, “You even smell sweet. You wanna know a secret?” Don’t answer. Just stare. “I can feel how hot that cunt is. Feel how she’s pulsing so hard at being filled. You hide nothing, Dovey.”
“Why can’t I go home?”
Steve settles back in his chair, glancing towards Bucky who also sits on a couch, and kicks up his feet. Rubbing his hand slowly up and down your back, but keeping a firm hand on your thigh. Keeping you spread out a bit more than you would want. “Why did you come here in the first place? You sought me out. I had to question things. Everyone knows I love pretty little things with tight pussy.”
“Stop, please,” your voice deadpans. There’s no emotion in you even though you want to scream and flail around. But it wouldn’t help. You chose to walk in here on your own accord, so now it was time to just listen.
“Why? You don’t feel that heat radiating out from between your legs? I have asked you why you are here, and you can’t provide an answer. So until you tell me, you’re going to sit like this. Have your panties become soiled with that sweet nectar. Uncomfortable, and desperate for friction. I just know you’re going to go home, and touch yourself thinking about me.”
“I won’t,” his eyebrow cocks up, and he waits. It would just be easier if you told him the truth. “My grades are slipping.”
“Oh, she’s sweet and educated. Let me guess…early childhood education? It will come in handy for when you take care of our kids,” Bucky snorts, leaning his head back on the couch, but you look at him horrified. “Oh good grief. What are you studying?”
“Early childhood,” a deep chuckle erupts out his mouth, tilting his head to look at the ceiling. Distracting you while his hand moves further up your thigh. “I…I need to cram in some studying.”
“I can definitely help you with some cramming. So you thought you would come to the supplier for some Adderall? Is that it? Why not ask one of the many people on campus? I’m sure they’re good and stocked up. We know it’s finals season.”
“I don’t trust people,” Steve moans, and his hand starts to rub in and out of the gap between your legs, only inches away from your core. “All it would take is for them to get caught, and then they’re ratting everyone out that they sold to. Even you.”
“Oh, trust me, if they sing like a canary and mention my name, it’ll be the last thing they fucking do. So let me get this straight, you, this sweet little Dove, come to the seedy part of town, thinking you’re going to march in here and ask for a few pills from me to get you through finals?”
“I have money,” you close your eyes as his fingers lightly graze over your panties. A skirt was a terrible idea, but you can deal with being angry at yourself later. Right now you just need to remain calm, and get out alive.
“I don’t want money.”
“I don’t want sex.”
“Oh, sweetheart, there’s definitely ways I could want you without having my cock going into your pussy. Fine. I’ll give you your fucking pills. If you don’t pass, you get to suck my giant cock. If you’re lucky I might let you ride my face before I split your pussy open for the first time,” don’t answer. Don’t even look.
“Why so wet Dovey?” Don’t answer. Don’t look. Definitely don’t moan. “Wet and so hot. I bet it feels like heaven in between your thighs. A pussy like this is something I would need all the time. Make you sit in my lap, with my cock buried so deep in your warmth, all while I hand out everyone’s product. Every seller would know you were taking my cock like a big girl, but they would see how much I stretch you out. Is that what you want? To be my pretty little cock ornament for all my sellers?”
Don’t answer. Don’t look. And stop whimpering. “You better answer me, you little bitch,” you gulp as he twists you around, making you stare at Bucky as you straddle his leg. Holding onto your hips as he forces you to grind on him. “How much do you have?”
“Carol told me they were fifteen dollars a pill.”
“I could give them to you for free. Just come on my leg, and tell Bucky what a pitiful little birdie you are.”
“I can pay like a normal customer,” you moan. This is humiliating. Bucky sits in front of the two of you, munching on some form of nut or cracker with the biggest eat shit grin. “Steve, I’d rather just pay.”
“Your money's no good with me. Who sent you? Carol? She’s the one that told you to come straight to me? Whoever told you to come here, sent you right into a mousetrap, sweetheart,” his own moan echoes yours as you clench your eyes close. You can’t look at Bucky or him. Your body is betraying you. Feeling things deep inside of you that you have never felt before.
Even the thought of Bucky watching this all unfold is making you weak. You hate it, but the pleasure is proving you didn’t hate it enough. “I have a type, Dovey. Sweet little ladies like you. One that wants to deny themselves all this pleasure is even better. I promise there are things that feel better than this.”
You didn’t want anything that felt better. It was like Satan had his finger curled, wiggling it towards you, and beckoning you deeper into depravity. First the pills, now riding someone’s thigh while another man watched. What was next? Did you even want to know? Or did you not want to let go?
Your hands slap down on either armrest, and you can not control the sounds that seep out of you. His tattooed fingers dig even deeper into your hips. He was going to leave marks on you, but it didn’t matter. What mattered now was the high that was all through your limbs. This shouldn’t feel good, and you are irritated by the fact that it was Bucky watching that made this more enjoyable.
“What is it that you want more than anything, Dovey?” Don’t answer. Keep your eyes closed. “The way this cunt is making a mess of me, I think you want to come, huh? Does this pretty little bird want to come? I’ll keep going until you pass out, so you better learn to talk to me.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what, little darling? Yes isn’t a damn answer,” he grinds you down even harder on his thigh, and you have to brace yourself. Holding onto his knee as your head tilts back to the ceiling. The most strangled of cries as you come undone, but Steve doesn’t slow. Doesn’t stop, but goes faster. Harder. Leaving you screaming. Writhing around.
Your fingernails dig into his knee, but still he goes harder. He is trying to kill you. “What does my little bird want more than anything, hmm? Yes, isn’t an answer. And I won’t stop until you tell me.”
“I want…” your eyes roll into the back of your head as another orgasm builds up in your belly. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t process what is even happening. “I want to come!”
“Done,” Steve growls, giving your neck a little nibble, and you lose all self control. Your body trembles as you come undone. Whimpering even more when you hear drips onto the floor, as you squirt onto his thigh, and he gives your sensitive skin a hard suck.
“I figured you’d want your little pills to keep you awake for studying. Maybe even to pass your finals. But making you come is so much easier, and cheaper for me. Now how many pills do you need?”
“What” you pant out, turning to look back at him.
“You need pills. I’ll give them to you.”
“How much?” You ask, shifting on his thigh. No matter which way you turn, you’re uncomfortably wet. Slick coats the inside of your thigh, and Steve’s leg just further wipes it on you.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Really, oh my god, thank you!” He releases your hold, and you stand up, ready to hug him, but take a step backwards instead. Staring down at his drenched leg in horror. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Bucky, get her five pills?” You give him a sweet little smile, nodding your head. “No more than one a day. If you need more, just come to the club, and Bucky will bring you straight to me, and I’ll take care of you.”
You can’t believe he’s being so nice to you, but you’re thankful. Delighted even as Bucky hands you a bottle, “It has my name on it.”
“I don’t need you getting in trouble, Dovey. I need you to pass your finals. Come on, let me walk you out to your car. It gets dangerous at night. You don’t need to be alone,” you forget about the mess left behind on Steve’s pants. Don’t even pay attention to how his eyes darken as he leads you through the club.
Don’t notice the stares that are pointed right at you, and all because you have a nasty little hickey on your neck, and Steve’s possessive hand on the small of your back. No one approaches the two of you. No one points. You’re able to get out of the club without some man hitting on you.
Steve opens the door for you, letting you get seated before buckling you in. “I don’t want you to be out by yourself.”
“Yeah, okay,” that is a weird request, but you weren’t going to be seeing Steve anymore for it to matter.
“Good luck on your finals, Dovey,” he licks his lips as he looks over the expanse of your body. You’re just thankful that it is over. It wasn’t that terrible. And you saved some money.
Bucky comes to stand beside Steve as he memorizes your license plate. A sinister grin on his face, “Don’t lose sight of her. You know what to do,” he tells his friend before walking back into the club. Bucky goes over to his bike, already sensing some late nights for himself.
Steve had a mission. To keep you safe. Because you are his. And your scent engulfed him fully. He was going to break you down. And he was going to have every part of you. You just didn’t realize it. But everyone else did. He saw the club goers look at you and their sight was quickly averted. He’d wear your juices for the world to see. And soon, you’d wear his mark as well.
Next
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Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmaii @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @theinheriteddutchess
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chxrryhansen · 2 months
Text
౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s concepts 9/50
Character; Steve Rogers
Kink; Breeding
Dialogue; “You look so pretty like this.”
Requested by; Anon🙊
As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, all dark content will be labled as such. Please read at your own risk.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
your hands gripped the cotton bedsheets in tight fists as steve's thick hand slammed down against your ass from behind, instantly flustering your hot skin as you cried out in pleasure.
your pussy stretched around his thick cock, riding him reverse cowgirl as he thrusted his hips up into your dripping heat, the sound of clapping skin filling the room.
"fuck... thats it, you take this dick so fucking good, my sweet fuckin' whore." steve grunted, his hands moved to grip your hips, slamming you up and down on his cock, your pussy clenching around his length as your clit slapped against his balls with each bounce, his pretty blonde locks began sticking to his forehead as sweat dripped down his cheeks from the rapid pace he was fucking you at.
"your s-so big, daddy, feels s' good." you whimpered as your juices leaked out of you, creating a cream coloured ring around the base of his shaft.
"i know baby, i know. shit, look at that, creamin' all over daddys fat dick, huh? what a messy girl you are, sweetheart." he growled as his release neared, wanting nothing more than to fill you up with his hot n sticky cum.
"gonna' cum inside this cunt til its dripping down your fuckin' thighs, you fuckin' whore..yeah? you want daddys cum? such a good little slut f' me."
"p-please daddy, need it so bad, miss the way your cum fills me up daddy." you babbled as he planted his feet against the bed, beginning to relentlessly pound into your pussy, desperate to get you pregnant with his kids.
he was quick to flip you over, staring down at you as he fucked you sensually in missionary, one hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tight as he forced you to stare into his eyes.
"you look so pretty like this, baby, all fucked out, god, i'm gonna' cum, your gonna' make me cum, oh fuck, ohhh f-fuckkk." he groaned, his hips stuttering as his warm seed began to fill you making you quiver around his length, ropes of hot cum spurting into your pussy. you whined at the feeling of his warmth stuffing you.
Steve shushed you as he leant down to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongues battled for dominance until he squeezed your throat tighter, making you gasp for breath, his tongue beginning to explore your mouth. He pulled away slowly, a trail of spit connecting your lips, the sight leaving you breathless.
"i can't wait to make you a mommy, baby, gonna' look so hot, all full and round with my kids." he rasped, his soft cock growing hard inside of you once more, growling as he began thrusting gently.
you whimpered, mentally preparing your sore cunt for round two, or three… or four.
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urcatslitterbox · 4 months
Text
Having thigh job brain rot
Ok so like I have some thicker thighs and I can’t stop thinking about these guys having their first thigh job.
Bucky
Bucky has always been obsessed with your thighs. He just loves how soft and squishy they are and thinks they’re perfect.
He especially loves biting them and leaving wet opened mouth kisses on them when eating you out.
So when you blurted out in the midst of a hot and heavy make out session that you wanted him to fuck them, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.
Spreading some lube on his length and your thighs, he held them together against his front as you laid on the bed
The moment his leaky tip slid through the plush flesh of your thighs his head fell back as he let out a strangled groan.
Yep, definitely in heaven.
“Fuck doll, look at how much prettier your thighs look with my cock between em”
He couldn’t get enough, slowly sliding his cock between your thighs. Hitting your clit with every stroke.
He fucked them nice and slow, wanting to savour the feeling of your soft, warm skin against his wet cock.
“Such perfect fucking thighs baby. All mine.”
Eventually though, it became too much for him.
He started to fuck your thighs with a newfound desire. The only thing on his mind was the thought of covering you in his cum.
His thoughts driving him to fuck your thighs so hard that the bed frame was repeatedly hitting the wall.
He could feel himself getting closer, his previously steady pace faltering.
“Mm fuck gonna cum doll, you want me to cum all over you huh? Gonna c- fuck, cover you in my cum, make such a mess, ah shit!”
Bucky came all over your bare stomach and chest panting as he came down. He let your legs fall on either side of him.
“Look at the mess you made me make doll.”
Steve
Oh sweet Stevie. He isn’t the most experienced man out there, so when you brought up wanting to try giving him a thigh job, he was confused as to how exactly it would work.
After explaining it to him he agreed with a deep red coating his face and neck.
“Oh well I suppose we could give it a try sweetheart.”
The moment he had finished his sentence you were on him.
Pulling his pants down along with yours before kneeling in front of him.
“W-wait, but I thought we were-“
“Gotta get you wet first so you can fuck my thighs Stevie.”
You cut him off, then at his understanding nod you took his heavy cock into your mouth moaning at his taste.
Steve sighed at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him. He’d never had a blowjob before you, but he was sure that you were an expert with the way you worked his cock in your mouth.
After getting him nice and wet, you pulled him onto his bed and helped him to position himself so he could properly fuck your thighs.
Steve inhaled sharply as he slid between your thighs.
It felt so much better than he imagined. You never fail to make him feel new kinds of pleasure he never thought possible.
He began to slowly thrust, but that changed quickly as it just felt too goddamn good.
“Oh god, feels s’good sweets.”
His hips started to stutter as he neared his end much too quickly.
“Fuck! M’not gonna last, wanna cum already baby, just feels too good.”
He pulled back just in time to cum all over your thighs making a mess as he moaned loudly.
“S-steve what are you doing?”
He laid down on his front pulling you closer before licking his spend off your thighs, inching his way closer to your soaked core.
“Cleaning up my girl. I made a mess on her, and looks like she made one too.”
He teased before delving into your wet folds.
Omg I need them to fuck my thighs ARGH
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Text
Heated training | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 -> Avenger!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> You’re training with Steve but when he is distracted and you push him down once again things become heated.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 2.364
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dry humping, semi public sex, tiny bit angst, fluff
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 -> Hiiii! Could you write a Steve x reader where they’re training and she’s like having to tackle him and straddle him and he gets a boner and things get heated and ya know some smut and maybe the reader is Tony’s daughter and somehow word gets out that something happened and there’s some angst in there. Hope you’re okay writing this, thank you !!❤️ @myersmaniac
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the request and hope you like what I made with it.
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Book Night | N1 | semi private sex | @fandom-free-bingo | MCU Kink Bingo | N3 | Free Square | @mcukinkbingo
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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It’s nothing new that the tall and muscular super soldier has a huge crush on you. He always takes care that his hair looks good and that he is shaved, loving the moments you look at him with a smile on your lips. The way you talk to him, when you need to look up because you’re so small compared to him. It’s at least nothing new to him that he is in love with you; he can’t even remember for how long he has already been in love with you, but he doesn’t dare tell you or anybody else something about it. Not only because you’re Tony Stark's daughter, but also because he doesn’t want to ruin things the two of you have — the wonderful friendship he appreciates.
Steve loves to work with you, spend time with you, or just be close to you. Also, when he can’t touch you in the way he would like to do it, even when he can’t feel your lips all over his body or just cuddle with you in the way he would like, he still enjoys when the two of you laugh and spend time together. Whenever you look at him with those shining eyes and the most adorable and sweet smile on your lips, he loves to hear you laugh, especially when he is the reason for it. He could look at you for hours, admiring you.
“Rogers! Concentration! Otherwise, she tackles you down immediately, again.”
He rolls his eyes over Nat’s comment, even though she is right. You have tackled him down in just a short time since he seems too deep in his thoughts today. He doesn’t really train; it’s more staring at you, trying to grip your wrists before you throw him down, but he often fails to grip your wrists and lands on the ground in no time. Steve’s cheeks are red, and sweat runs all over his face and along his neck. His broad chest and defined abs are covered in sweat as well, his skin softly glistening in the light of the training room.
“Yeah- yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes before he grips your fist and tries to push you down.
But Steve gets distracted by your lips — your beautiful plumb lips, which are slightly parted — and your eyes, which shine like the stars at night. He gets lost in your eyes, and a moment later he feels the mattress underneath his back. You’re sitting on top of him with a big smirk on your lips. You don’t miss the way he looks at you — the way his eyes are focused on your lips and his eyes are slightly darkened. You feel a tingle on your skin when he touches you, but you try not to focus on it during training; otherwise, you both would just stare at one another.
“Sorry guys, Clint is calling. You both don’t mind me picking up?” Natasha asks, already walking out of the door.
Steve, and you look after her. When the door shuts, Steve tries to wiggle you off of him, trying to turn the two of you around, but you grip his fists and press them above his head into the mattress. Moving a bit on top of him to have a better position to hold him in place.
“What stole your concentration today, huh?” You ask, raising your eyebrows.
“N—nothing,” he replies breathlessly, trying to free his hand out of your tight grasp.
You narrow even more and cause your nose to slightly scrunch. Steve chuckles, using the moment of your confusion to free his hands, and tries once again to turn the two of you around. Steve thrusts his hips up, his hands finding their way to your hips. His fingers dig into the fabric of your pants, holding it tightly before he lifts you up. But he hasn’t thought you would jump and let yourself fall down back on him, landing perfectly on his growing bulge in his pants and causing both of you to moan.
Steve's eyes widen immediately, and thoughts run through his mind to find an excuse why his dick is hard. When you look into his wide eyes, you’re just as big as his, gasping about the sudden feeling between your thighs.
“F— Sorry,” he mumbles, blushing slightly.
“Why do you have your phone? No, your keys are in your pocket?” You ask, confused, why he thought of putting it out of his pocket before you two started the training.
“I— That’s not my phone nor my key,” he admits quietly.
You narrow, tilting your head slightly to the side, until you realize what’s pressing against your soaked pussy. It doesn’t feel bad at all, but you didn’t know he felt that way for you, or at least he wouldn’t get a hard on during training. But you straddle him for a few minutes already, so it’s understandable that he gets hard when he is attracted to you and when you move in his cock.
You slowly move your hips, feeling his length rubbing against you. Maybe you should get off of him, but it feels too good to do so, so you’re moving slowly, looking deep into his eyes while you wait for Steve to stop you from grinding against him when he doesn’t like it. But he gasps and digs his finger more into your covered skin, helping you grind on his cock.
“Princess, we—we can’t.”
“Why not? Don’t you like it?” You ask, pouting while you stop your movements on his growing dick.
“I love it— I—I love you, but—“
His eyes widen even more when he realizes what he just said. His cheeks heat up, and he opens his mouth to form an apology, but there is nothing he has in mind to say. He’s adorable when he is shy and slightly embarrassed — not that you like seeing him embarrassed around you, just that his lips are slightly parted, his blue eyes look so lovely but at the same time unsure, and his red cheeks — just hot and cute at the same time. First he got hard while training, and now he told you he loves you; he would face palm himself when his hands wouldn’t be clued to your waist, not wanting to let go of you because you could move away from his cock.
Your smirk grows when you lean closer, your lips just an inch away from his, and you can feel his warm breath on your sweaty skin. Steve closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he lifts his head and breaks the distance between your lips. His soft, pink lips move perfectly against yours, and he licks over your lips to ask for access. You’re parting your lips, and you're deepening the kiss until both of you need to pull away to breathe deeply.
“I love you too. Please— I need you, Stevie,” you mumble, moving your hips harder on his covered cock.
Steve groans, throwing his head back and giving you more space to kiss and bite into the soft skin of his neck. You lick a strap along his neck, chasing him to close his eyes and thrust his hips up. His bulge presses more against your covered pussy, and you moan softly.
“Everyone could see us!” He breathes heavily, looking through his lashes at you.
You sit up and smirk when your hands slide over his broad chest, and you start moving your hips at a fast but steady pace over his dick. He is panting underneath you; with his hands, he helps you to move on top of him, pushing you further down to cause more friction.
“S—Steve, I’m so close,” you whimper.
The tip of his cock is hitting your clit with every thrust, and you push both of you closer to your edge. He didn’t know it could feel that good without being inside of you, but it does, and he is just as close as you.
“Tell me we’re going to get in your room and do it again; tell me you’re mine,” Steve says, slowing your hips down.
Pre-cum is soaking his pants, and he just wants to push you more on his cock and guide you over it to make both of you come, but he wants to hear that you’re his.
“So possessive, huh?” You ask, teasingly.”
His answer is just a harsh movement of his hips. You moan and throw your head back, trying to move faster, but he stops you with his grasp.
“S— Stevie. We can do it as often as you want; I’m yours— I’m all yours, but please let me come,” you whine.
Steve grins, moving your hips faster on his dick and bringing you closer to the edge. It doesn’t take long for the two of you until you’re coming, clenching around nothing while Steve is soaking his pants with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily and calming down from your high when you hear someone coming back into the room.
“G— What are you two doing, sitting like that and doing nothing?” Tony asks, narrowing.
Steve chuckles, nodding his head. Tony just wants to inform you that you are going to have a meeting, but seeing you on top of Steve, straddling him, wasn’t something he expected to see when he came into the training room. Actually, the two of you are always trying to tackle one another.
“Oke—“ he pauses, nodding his head and inhaling. “Meeting.”
With that, he leaves the room, and you laugh. Your brother’s expression was just too funny. You lean down, capture Steve’s lips, and kiss him softly.
“After the meeting, I’m all yours.”
“You’re already mine, but then we repeat that here without clothes.”
You then get off of Steve. The blond-haired man looks at the wet spot on his pants and smirks when he sees you staring at his covered cock. You both take a shower because you get ready for the meeting Tony told you about — next mission, which isn’t really interesting for you since you only have your eyes on one another.
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Steve and you have been secretly dating for a few weeks now. You often spend time together, which isn’t new to see for the others. Even when you smile in another way, your gazes are different — happier — but no one really asks about it. They are just happy that Steve and you are happy — still thinking you’re best friends.
When Tony asks you to come into his office because he wants to talk with you, you have a huge smile on your face. When you knock at the door and swing it open, you freeze immediately. Steve is sitting there in front of your father, who looks angry, and you swallow hard. The smile fades away, and you look slightly confused.
“Come in and close the door.”
You do as you’re told; you close the door behind you and walk toward the men, letting yourself fall down next to Steve on a chair. Tony looks at you before he moves to face Steve; he then points at the monitor on the desk in front of you.
When your father turns on the video, you gasp, your eyes widen, and your hands get sweaty. You hear Steve inhaling deeply next to you. He swallows hard and slides down in his chair. The video that Tony is showing of the two of you shows Steve and you making out on the floor before you pull him with you into your room.
You know Tony isn’t a friend of the men around you; he is protective and doesn’t want someone to hurt you. He already made your ex-boyfriend run away because he was afraid of Tony’s Iron Man suit walking without him inside the suit.
“D—Dad, I would say i—it’s not what it looks like what Steve and I did, but it is. B—“
“Rogers!” Tony says, his jaw clenching when he looks at your boyfriend.
“Tony, I—I don’t want to hurt her. I—I love her,” Steve says, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, afraid of what your father could say.
Steve sighs, looking down and inhaling deeply. He rubs his hands over his pants and sighs once again before he continues to speak.
“I would never do anything she didn’t want to. Tony, I love her.”
You smile softly, but your body is still tensed, and you don’t dare look at Steve. Tony nods, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk.
“Do you love him?” He asks, looking at you, and you nod, then he turns his face back to Steve. “When you hurt her, I will cut your balls off!”
Steve doesn’t know if he wants to smile or swallow hard, but he smiles, nodding and turning toward you. He places his hand in front of you, waiting until you place yours in his big one before he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your soft skin. Tony rolls playfully with his eyes, watching the two of you when you lean in to press your lips against Steve’s, soft and sweet.
"First, the gentleman an— Get a room!” Tony shouts, and you burst out laughing about the way he raises his eyebrows and grasps the surface of the table.
“We will,” you tell him, smirking when you get up and pull Steve with you.
With a wink at Tony, you make your way to the door of his office, leaving it. Before you can walk further through the floor, Steve pushes you against the wall behind you, attacking your lips with his.
“I love you so much, princess.”
“I love you too, Stevie.”
With that, he lifts you up and carries you into your bedroom, continuing what you have seen in the video Tony shows the two of you. And you’re glad he accepts what you have with Steve, because it’s special, and you’re happier than you ever have been since you've been with Steve. He treats you like a princess, like his perfect and sweet princess.
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77@bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @pono-pura-vida @princesscore-angel
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ichorai · 5 months
Text
airbag ; steve rogers.
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track one of OK COMPUTER.
pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.
words ; 4.3k
themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?
warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)
main masterlist.
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Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there. 
It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.
Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too. 
Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old. 
It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight. 
Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”
And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.
Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.
During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.
Will you marry me?
And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.
To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay. 
“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.
You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.
Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.
The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.
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Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.
“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”
There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”
Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.” 
Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”
Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”
There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”
Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words. 
“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”
“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.
“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”
She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”
Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.
Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.
Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.
“I packed us sandwiches.”
“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car. 
“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”
Steve arched a brow. “Like?”
“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”
Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead. 
The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got. 
The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.
And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again. 
Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward. 
Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills. 
He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”
When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”
Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs. 
The proposal would have to wait another day, then.
He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”
“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.
He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.
Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.
“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”
“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”
You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next. 
“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.
“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”
Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”
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The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often. 
Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.
It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.
He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.
And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you. 
To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut. 
With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead. 
The proposal would have to wait another day.
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Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come. 
And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.
“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.
When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.
The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.
You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…
And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight. 
A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view. 
“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?
“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.
A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.
“Did Natasha tell you?”
Tony snorted. “We all know.”
“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”
“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”
Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question. 
Or was it? 
“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”
With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”
Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests. 
Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.
“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”
And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again. 
Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?
He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.
His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music. 
Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy. 
“Sandy?” 
“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”
“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”
“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?” 
With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.
“Honey, I gotta go.” 
Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”
“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”
Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”
It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip. 
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The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.
A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve. 
He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric. 
But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.
Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.
“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything. 
“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”
Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”
His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.
“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”
Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”
You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut. 
“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.
“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.
“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”
Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.
Should he? Now, when he had the chance?
“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on. 
Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.
“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”
Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.
“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.
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A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears. 
Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.
“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”
Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother. 
A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief. 
“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone. 
“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”
Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”
Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”
The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.
“You ready for lunch?”
“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”
Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—
But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.
“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head. 
Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”
Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.
And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”
There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it. 
The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe. 
“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.
You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”
“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.
When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.
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imyourbratzdoll · 4 months
Note
I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈
hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.
summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.
warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
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It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one. 
You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you. 
Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?” 
Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!” 
You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear. 
“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!” 
“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.
You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”
“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.” 
You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile. 
Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.” 
With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself. 
While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to. 
“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin. 
You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.
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buckysouvenir · 8 months
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better knock
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reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡
⋆ masterlist
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
bucky leaned against y/n's bed frame watching her stand in front of the mirror. he tried to hide his disappointment, even though he appreciated the fact that she was friends with his best friend, he wished they could spend more time together.
they spend almost every second together when they're not in a mission... but still.
y/n turned to bucky with a comforting smile "buck, you ok?"
he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "yeah, yeah... just thought we could, you know, do something together"
y/n grinned, walking over and giving him a small kiss on his lips. "we spent the night and the morning together, love... i'll just hang with steve for a few hours and i'll be back"
bucky rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "i guess i can survive a few hours without you"
you laughed, kissed him goodbye and walked to the elevator.
being friends with steve since he got out of ice was something you considered a pleasure. it's not always you have someone you can trust and you're thankful for one of your best friends is best friends with your boyfriend too.
walking to steve's room, you didn't even bother messaging him, calling him, or even knocking; you knew steve well enough to barge in unannounced.
"OH MY GOD!" were the only words your mouth and your brain could let out.
you sprinted back to the elevator back to your and bucky's floor. you definitely needed him right now.
running to his room and opening the dor immediately, he let out a "hey... what are you doing here?" while laying in bed.
you threw yourself in his bed and started to curl by his side and put a pillow on your face while saying "ohmygodohmygodohmygod" repeatedly.
bucky now in complete confusion, sitting on his own bed looking at you "what happened woman????"
you take the pillow out of your face, and take a deep breath with your eyes close. after you recompose yourself, you sit and look into bucky's eyes. "i- i just saw"
"saw what?"
"the imaginable"
"...what?"
"i just saw steve"
"ok... weren't you gonna go out with him?"
"i saw steve-" you took a deep breath, "i caught steve, in bed, with- with a woman"
bucky was frozen in place.
"...bucky?"
he started laughing.
"DON'T LAUGH!" you yelled at him.
"I'M SORRY! i can't" he got up, recomposing himself. "who was the women? i didn't know he was sleeping with someone"
"if you don't know, how the hell am i suppose to know? she's blonde, i didn't even see her face, he- he turned around too fast" you said as you covered your face with your hands, now sitting at the end of the bed.
bucky still laughing, crouched down and patted your legs. "i'm sorry sweetheart, that must be tough to go through... can't believe you went through this before me to be honest" he kissed you on the forehead.
"SORRY! SORRY! I AM SO SO SORRY" steve appeared out of nowhere at buckys door. stress written all over his face.
hearing his voice, you crawled up buckys bed and shoving a pillow on your face again. "GET HIM OUT OF HERE!"
bucky started laughing again, "ok! ok!" he patted steve on the back. "c'mon man, let's... walk before you two can look each other in the face again"
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Text
To Know Him Is To Love Him
summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.
pairing: steve rogers x reader
an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.
Anon's 1K Celebration
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to know him is to love him.
to know him is to stand by him.
to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.
to know him is to hope that one day he'll finally see.
to know him is to be broken by him.
you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.
three months ago...
you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.
you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.
"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."
"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.
"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."
your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"
"you know what i meant. you're my friend."
you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.
"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."
two months ago...
"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."
"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."
"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"
"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.
"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.
steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.
sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."
you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."
"soulmate?" sam teases.
you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.
how blind can he be?
one month ago...
"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."
it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."
"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"
you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."
"please, i need you."
putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.
his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.
you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.
you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.
to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.
he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.
you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.
you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."
"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."
his best girl.
he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.
"i missed you so much."
you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."
"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."
you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."
an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"
you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."
"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."
"i understand."
2 weeks ago...
you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.
each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.
you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.
in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.
time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.
you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.
still, he sought you out.
you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.
you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.
at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.
your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.
"steve?"
"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."
"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"
"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."
you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."
"thank you," he sighs in relief.
"what happened?"
"the worst date of my life."
you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.
and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"
"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."
you suck in a breath, "steve..."
these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.
suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.
and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.
you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.
"steve.." you sigh against his lips.
and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."
you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"
"i should go."
and he leaves without another word.
your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.
1 week ago...
he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.
to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.
he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.
"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.
you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.
you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."
you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.
now...
you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.
the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.
"steve," you try to interrupt.
"and all i want -"
"steve."
"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"
"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."
his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"
"you know why," you spit at him.
"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."
"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."
"i don't understand."
"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."
"they why do you answer the phone?"
"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."
"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"
"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."
"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.
a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."
"before? before what?"
each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."
"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."
"and then you kissed me!"
he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."
"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."
"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."
your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."
steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."
"why did you call me the other night?"
"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."
"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."
he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."
you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"
"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."
"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."
"i do love you."
you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."
"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."
"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."
he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."
"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."
steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."
you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."
"please," steve begs.
"goodbye, steve."
you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.
a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.
to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration
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downbadf0rficppl · 2 months
Text
happy birthday
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve's deep in a lie. One that he won't be able to recover from. What happens when he finds out you know the truth.
Word Count: 2.3K
Warnings: SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, and fluff of course. Brat Tamer!Steve, Oral (M Receiving),
AN: Based on a headcanon I read at some point where Bucky threatens to reveal when Steve's real birthday is - I don't think I ever laughed harder! Hope you guys all enjoy! LYYYYYYYYY
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"Hey, Cap," You called to him, walking over as he filed out of the briefing room. He looked up at you and smiled - lifting his hand up to wave. He looked at you suspiciously - your hands were hidden behind your back, clearly holding something.
"Whatcha got for me?" He smirked, "Hopefully not more files?" He added with a slight groan.
"Not at all. Just a little something," You showed him the box, "for your birthday."
Steve chuckled awkwardly, "Thanks sweetheart, but it's not my birthday for a while yet? It's December 12th?"
You smirked evilly, "Ahh but Captain, I discovered something quite interesting the other day. There was a collection of old SSR files found in an old crate and I had the pleasure of having to catalogue it. Most of it was boring but there was a file that caught my eye," Steve's eyes widened, but you continued, "The file of one 'Steven Grant Rogers'. And it surprised me to discover that the great Captain America is a-"
You were cut off by Steve slamming his hand down over your mouth. He looked around wildly, hoping that no one heard, before dragging you outside.
"Where did you find that file?"
"So it's true! Ha!"
"I'm not messing around, sweetheart. Who else knows?"
"No one. For now."
Steve stalked up to you, finger pointed at your chest, "You best keep your mouth shut, sweetheart."
"Or what, Captain, what are you gonna do?" You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
"Fuck around and find out."
"Don't tempt me with a good time, Captain."
"Shut your mouth," He growled, his pupils blown with lust.
"Make me."
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You barely made it back to his room before he slotted his lips over yours, hands grasping your face gently. You gasped into his mouth, his nose bumping yours as he pushed you through the door of his apartment.
"Jump," he mumbled against your mouth and you obliged. His hands gripped your thighs as they wrapped around his waist and he nudged the door shut with his toe. All without ever breaking the contact between your lips.
He carried you into the bedroom and dropped you in the center of his bed. He looked down at you like a lion looks at a gazelle, lust-blown eyes raking over your body.
"Just here to stare, Captain? All bark, no bite." It probably wasn't a good idea to provoke the beast, but you were having slightly too much fun watching Captain 'I-never-have-a-hair-out-of-place' Rogers lose his temper.
Steve shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're such a fucking brat," he muttered, a hand dropping to his belt. Your eyes followed his hand, raking over his unfortunately-still-clothed body. "You know what brats like you need? You need to be taught a lesson."
You almost let out a whimper, your cunt pulsing with need. Steve pulled off his shirt and his belt and dropped them on the floor unceremoniously. He climbed over you and crawled over you, his large body pinning you to the mattress.
He laid hands on the top button of your shirt before looking up at you for consent. "Please, Steve."
"See, that wasn't so hard." He began unbuttoning your shirt, laying gentle kisses in his wake. Once it was unbuttoned, he pushed it down your arms and tossed it onto the floor. He unbuttoned your trousers in the same way before pulling them off your legs and tossing them by your shirt.
His eyes raked over your semi-naked form, slowly appreciating every curve and dimple on your body. You smiled shyly - the weight of his gaze was heavy, heavy with adoration.
He flipped you onto your stomach and pulled your hips against his crotch. You could feel the bulge straining in his pants and you let out a moan as it brushed against your sensitive clit.
"Someone's sensitive," Steve said, the smirk evident in his voice.
"Someone's taking a long time to fuck me. Maybe I'll find some other agent to finish the jo-"
Slap. You jolted as Steve laid a hard slap against your ass. Your surprise melted into arousal and you let out another moan. You pushed back against him, letting him know you wanted more.
"You're mine," Steve growled, continuing to slap your ass, alternating between cheeks and pressures, "Mine to tame, mine to fuck. Get it, only mine."
You moaned in response - an enthusiastic yes.
"God, I can smell how wet you are, sweetheart. You like it when I slap you, huh? You like it when I get rough?" You nodded your head, pushing back into Steve again. You hear him chuckle and move away. You whine at the loss of touch, "Cockdrunk already, pretty baby? I haven't even touched you yet."
You heard Steve's zipper and the sound of jeans landing on the floor. You turned to look at him and you looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Impressed, baby?" Even through his boxers, Steve's bulge was impressive. Steve was a well-endowed man and he knew it. "Now come over here and show me how much you want this cock."
You climbed off the bed and sank to the floor in front of him. Your knees hit the solid cold floor and you were now at eye level with his cock. Steve's eyes went wide - clearly, he hadn't been expecting you to do that.
"May I, Captain?" You said, your fingers playing on the waistband of his boxers.
"Fuck yeah, sweetheart." Steve threw his head back as you pushed his boxers down. He was big. Bigger than you’ve had before. Your mouth watered at his size and you leaned forward to give the tip of his cock a little kiss.
Smirking at the way Steve groaned as his cock twitched, you wrapped your hand around his girth and started pumping. Steve threw his head back, his hands finding your hair and making a makeshift ponytail.
Your tongue swiped over the tip of his cock, collecting the pre-cum on your tongue. You took his tip in your mouth, hands still languidly stroking the base of his cock. Your left hand traveled down to play with his balls, gently massaging them. It was music to your ears the way he choked out your name from your actions.
You took him further down your throat, pulling away when you started to gag. You tried again, trying to go further.
"Breathe through your nose sweetheart, that's it," Steve said as you took further down your throat. Your tongue ran over the large vein on the underside of his cock, massaging it as Steve threw his head back in ecstasy. "Fuck, sweetheart. I'm gonna ruin you if you don't slow down."
You smiled, as you pulled away from his cock. "Don’t be afraid to do what you want, Cap." You hummed, "I can handle it."
Steve wrapped your hair around his fist, before guiding your face back down to suck on his cock. He pushed your head all the way down so that your nose was brushing against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock. You gagged around his length and the pressure made Steve let out a loud groan.
"Fuck, just like that, baby, yes," pressure began to build up in his stomach, as you bobbed your head up and down his length, "Keep going baby, don't stop."
Your hand moved back up to his balls, rolling them between your fingers as you kept sucking. The action made his hips stutter, the groan of your name practically coming out as a growl. "I’m not going to last," he choked out, pulling you off his cock and up to standing again.
Your knees felt stiff after so much time on the cold, hardwood floor, that you winced at the sudden movement. Steve caught it.
"Next time, you're using a pillow." You smiled at the thought of a nest time.
He pushed you back on the bed, his mouth latching back onto yours as he kneeled in front of you.
"Can I?" He looked up at you, his beautiful blue eyes shining brightly. His fingers traced the waistline of your underwear, fingers hooking the sides to pull them down,
You frantically nodded yes, and they were gone a second later, your bra following soon after. Steve lifted you up and threw you onto the middle of the bed, his eyes ravenously traveling to your sopping wet cunt. You moaned at the show of strength.
"You like that? Being manhandled like a slut?" You moaned in affirmation.
You gasped at the feeling of Steve's tongue on your pussy. He licked a long, flat stripe up to your clit, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands found their way into his hair and you pulled him up.
"As much as I would love for you to eat me out. I need your cock. In me. Right now."
"Your wish is my command, sweetheart."
You saw him grab a silver foil packet from his nightstand and he ripped it open with his teeth. You watched as Steve rolled the condom down his cock, the cock that was just in your mouth.
"See something you like?" Steve smirked as he caught you staring.
You blushed, "I see a lot that I like," you replied honestly.
Steve's face broke into a huge childish grin and he pulled you closer to him, "Good." That was the only warning he gave you before he hit home, sliding into you gently. He moaned loudly, head tossed back in pleasure as you squeezed him.
You gasped, trying to adjust to his size, "S'big, Stevie. 'S so big hmmm, 'm all - ah - full." you squeaked, a rough growl escaping from his lips at your words.
"Yeah, sweetheart? God, you're so tight. Filling you up to the brim, like a little hole for me to use."
Tears slipped down your face as you tried to adjust to the stretch. He was so big you could feel him everywhere, with every shift of your body, with every breath you took. Steve took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears, "Breathe, sweetheart. Just breathe, yeah?" You nodded, taking a shuddery breath. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, "You tell me if it gets too much." 
"I need you to move," you whispered. Steve slowly, pulled out and slowly pushed back in. And then again. And then again. Each time he got closer to bottoming out inside of you and you moaned as he pushed further and further.
Eventually, he picked up the pace, falling into a steady rhythm. A steady stream of moans left your lips. He brushed past your G-spot and you swore you saw stars. You were begging for more.
His hips began to snap into you, cock drilling into you so fast that you had fallen silent, mouth stuck in an 'O' shape. The praises falling from Steve's lips were lost on you as the pressure built up in your stomach.
"Steve, 'm not gonna last, Steve, please, 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna - oh my GOD, 'M GONNA CUM, AHHH-" You fell apart all over Steve's cock as he kept up this brutal pace.
Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud moan of your name before collapsing beside you. You smiled up at him through your post-orgasmic haze, turning to nestle into his arms. He chuckled, laying a light kiss on your forehead, "I have to go take care of this, give me a second."
He laughed as you shook your head, desperately clinging to him tighter. He unraveled himself from you and quickly disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom.
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Your eyes drifted shut as you waited for him, only to be forced open by something cool touching your inner thigh. You snapped your legs shut, only to find that Steve was holding a wet towel. "Just cleaning you up, sweetheart."
As soon as he was done, Steve pulled one of his t-shirts over your body and bundled you into his arms. At your disapproving grunt, he chuckled.
"Need to put some food in my best girl." He said, placing another kiss on your forehead.
"And then snuggles?" You asked, hopefully.
Steve smiled, "Yeah, sweetheart, then snuggles." He put you down on the cold island in the middle of the kitchen of his apartment and turned around to grab some fruit from the fridge.
The doorbell rang. Steve looked at the door and then the clock on the wall. He clearly wasn't expecting anyone. Both of you stood unmoving - you didn't know exactly what the nature of your relationship was. If it was someone you worked with - which of course it would be - you didn't want to be forced to go public.
Whoever it was was insistent. They banged on the door. "Hey, Punk, open the door." Steve let out a sigh of relief - it was Bucky, his best childhood friend. And also one of the best secret keepers in the compound.
Steve opened the door as you reached over to grab a strawberry. "What do you want, Jerk?" The door opened to Bucky mischievously smiling at Steve. Clearly, the fact that Steve was half-naked didn't bother him.
"Did you forget what today is?"
Steve's face blanched again.
"Happy Birthday, Punk!" Steve tackled a smirking Bucky to the ground. The sight made you burst into laughter, a strawberry held up to your mouth.
The sound made Steve look over at you. The sight of you sitting on his counter in his t-shirt, eating his strawberries made his heart jump. If this was how he got to spend the rest of his birthdays, he'd be a happy man indeed. Even if he had to put up with all your teasing.
fin.
buy me a coffee
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