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sergeantbarnessdoll · 6 months ago

Note

okokok… what abt neighbors to lovers smut w/ Steve Rogers 🤤🤤🤤

like, he finds the reader so cute and she’s harboring a mini crush on him too and he keeps trying to win her affection and somehow they end up yano… 🤭

Maybe a MASSIVE little size kink on Steve’s behalf too?

no pressure tho hon 🫶🫶🫶

Won Over With Affection » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Neighbor!Female Reader

Summary: Steve thinks you’re cute and tries to win you over with your affection, but little does he know that you have a crush on him too.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+), language, neighbors to lovers, flirting, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, Steve’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Good morning, neighbor!” You greeted Steve as you walked out of your apartment and he was walking to his. “How was your morning run?” You asked.

“It was good.” Steve replies with a smile. “How are you?” He asks.

“Other than having to go to work, I’m good.” You answered.

You couldn’t help but admire the way Steve looks in his tight grey t-shirt. His biceps threatened to rip the fabric.

“Anyways, you’re probably busy. I’ll see you later.” You say.

“You too.” He says with a smile.

You don’t know what it is when you’re around Steve, but you always feel nervous around him. You have a crush on him and you aren’t sure how to tell him. So you’re keeping it to yourself for now.

When Steve walked inside of his apartment, he thought of ways of trying to win you over with your affection. Luckily for him, he already knows how to start with his plan.

The following morning, Steve started his plan off with something basic and nice. He got you coffee from the coffee shop down the street from the apartment complex you two live him on his way home from his morning run. He knocked on the door to your apartment.

“Good morning, Steve!” You greeted. “What brings you by this early?” You asked curiously.

“I got you coffee on my way home from my run.” Steve says, handing you a coffee.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you!” You smiled.

“You’re welcome! It’s the least I can do for my favorite neighbor. Plus I would like to get to know you if that’s ok with you.” He says.

“I’m more than ok with that.” You say with a smile.

You could feel yourself blushing more by the second.

“Do you want to come in and hangout?” You asked. “I have the day off today.” You tell him.

“I wish I could, but I have to take a rain check on that. I have to go to work.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You playfully pouted. “See you later.” You smiled.

Steve gave you a smile before going to his own apartment. He sighs happily after he closed the door. His plan to win you over with your affection is working.

The next time you and Steve saw each other was when you were holding a bunch of groceries in your arms and tried to unlock your apartment at the same time. Steve saw you struggling and decided to help you.

“Let me help you with that.” Steve says, walking up to you.

Steve, being the gentleman he is, took the grocery bags out of your arms so you could unlock the door. You opened the door and walked inside. Steve followed behind you. You closed the door after he came inside.

“Thank you, Steve.” You smiled, walking to the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do this.” You say, putting the groceries on the counter.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind.” Steve replies, putting the rest of the groceries on the counter.

Steve put his hands on his hip, taking in the scenery of your apartment. You couldn’t help but look down below his belt. You licked your lips and bit your bottom lip.

“Nice apartment.” He compliments, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a couple times and looked up at him.

“I was telling you that you have a nice apartment.” He repeats.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You stuttered.

Steve didn’t missed the blush creep up on your cheeks. He smirks to himself.

“Well, I should get going.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You said. “You’re welcome here anytime.” You tell him.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sweetheart.” He smiles and winks.

You watched as he walked to the door and walked out the door.

Sweetheart… he called you sweetheart! You felt yourself blushing like a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time.

Later that same day, you went across the hall to Steve’s apartment. You knocked on the door and patiently waited for him to open the door.

“Y/N…” Steve smiles after he opens the door. “Come in.” He says, stepping aside.

You gave him a smile and walked inside of his apartment.

“I came over here to thank you for helping me with my groceries and for the coffee.” You say, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. It’s what neighbors are for.” He says with a smile.

You stood there and continued to nervously fiddle with your fingers. You looked around Steve’s apartment to avoid awkward eye contact with him.

“Your apartment looks bigger than mine.” You say.

Steve smirks to himself. He knows something else that’s big.

There it was again… the awkward silence.

Steve walked closer to you. You looked up at him due to the height difference.

“It is, isn’t it?” He says, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek.

You stared in his icy blue eyes and nodded your head. You looked down at his lips. Steve’s lips look so soft and kissable. His lips were inches away from yours. Steve decided to close the rest of the distance between you two and kissed you. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. The kiss went from sweet and passionate to heated quickly. You softly moaned against his lips.

Steve’s hips got a good grip on your hips and he picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to his bedroom. He gently laid you down on his bed and pulled away from the kiss to look deep in your eyes. His eyes that were once blue are now clouded with lust.

His hands found the bottom of your shirt. He looked at you, waiting for permission, which you gave him. Steve took your shirt off and threw it somewhere in the room, revealing your lace bra to him. His hands then found the waistband of your leggings, hooking his fingers in the waistband and looked at you for permission. You gave him permission by lifting your hips so he can take them off. Your matching panties were now revealed to him.

Steve took a short moment to take in your beauty. His thumbs rubbed the fabric of your panties. He then leaned his head down, kissing along your neck and down to your collarbone, nipping at your skin hard enough for hickeys. His hands pushed the straps of your bra off your shoulders before he kissed along your shoulders. You arched your back, pressing your breasts against his chest. Steve’s hand went behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

“Beautiful.” Steve mutters softly.

Steve hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and looked up at you, waiting for permission. You lifted your hips, giving him permission. He took your panties off, leaving you completely bare to him now. You pouted up at him.

“What’s with the pouty face, sweetheart?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your pouty lips.

“You’re still fully clothed.” You muttered softly.

Steve chuckles softly before taking his clothes off. Your eyes ogled his perfectly sculpted body. You bit your bottom lip and reached your hands out, rubbing them against his abdomen and feeling the indents of his abs. He gently took hands away, making you whine softly.

“As much as I want your hands on me, I have to taste you.” He says, giving you a soft kiss.

Steve kissed down your body, leaving hickeys here and there. You shivered when you felt his breath on your wet pussy. He took in how wet you are. He smirks proudly, knowing he’s the one who made you that wet.

His thumb slowly circled your clit, making your pussy squeeze around nothing. He couldn’t help but lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He moaned at your taste.

“You taste better than I imagined.” Steve says lowly.

Steve dove in, latching his lips on your pussy and are you out like a starved man. He put one of his arms across your stomach to prevent you from moving. Your mouth fell open, moans and his name leaving your mouth. One of your hands clutched the sheet beneath you and your other hand found its way to his hair, tugging on it.

“Oh my god! Yes, Steve!” You moaned loudly, throwing your head back against the pillow in pleasure.

The sound of your moans was music to his ears and went straight to his cock. His cock felt uncomfortably hard against his abdomen. Precum leaked against his skin and the sheets. He didn’t care one bit. He wanted to take care of your needs first.

Steve’s eyes flickered up at you, his eyes looking at your breasts. He also watched your chest rise and fall every time you took a breath. He couldn’t help but reach his hands up and cup your breasts as he ate you out. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples before pinching them at the same time. A new sensation shot through your body. You gasped at the feeling. He smirks against your pussy and didn’t it again, getting the same reaction out of you again.

Your grip on his hair tightened. Steve’s tongue prodded your entrance, catching you off guard and making you moan loudly. His tongue focused on your clit for a few seconds, circling it with the tip of his tongue.

You looked down at him at the same time he looked up at you. His blue eyes are now clouded with lust. He winked at you. You bit your bottom lip.

“Fuck, Steve!” You moaned. “Your tongue feels so good!” You say.

“Wait till you feel my cock.” Steve says, taking his mouth off of your pussy momentarily.

You moaned at his dirty words. That only made you want Steve more.

Steve slid two fingers in your pussy. His tongue began to lick your clit in flicking motions. Your grip on his hair tightened, giving it a tug. You threw your head back in pleasure. Your thighs closed around his head. Steve pushed them open with his shoulders.

“Leave these pretty legs open, sweetheart.” Steve says.

Steve curled his fingers, hitting the one spot inside of you. You moaned loudly and bucked your hips against his face and hand. That was enough to tell him that you wanted more. He curled his fingers against the one spot inside of you again, earning the same reaction from you. He also sensed you were getting close to coming.

“You gonna cum, honey?” He coos.

“Yes!” You moaned. “Please let me cum! I’m being a good girl!” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, good girl.” He says in a praising tone.

His name left your lips in a loud moan when you came, soaking his face and fingers. Steve’s fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He gave your clit one last flick with his tongue before pulling away and took his fingers out of your pussy. Steve sat back on his knees, licking your release off of his fingers, moaning at your taste.

“Holy shit…” You breathed. “A guy has never made me cum that hard before.” You admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m honored to be that guy.” Steve says with a small smirk.

Steve hovered over you, leaning down to kiss you passionately. His dog tags rested against your chest as he kissed you.

“Think you can cum for me again, sweetheart?” Steve asks, moving his lips down to your neck.

“Yes.” You answered softly.

Steve gave you one more kiss before sitting back on his knees again. He wrapped his hand around his hard cock, stroking it a couple times before line it at your pussy. He rubbed his cock in your slick, getting it wet. He then lined his cock at your entrance, slowly sliding it inside of you. You whimpered softly when his tip entered you. You knew Steve is big, but you didn’t know he was this big. Steve stopped his movements and looked at you.

“Are you ok, darling?” Steve asks softly.

“Y-Yes.” You answered in a stutter. “I just didn’t know you’re this big.” You say.

Steve reached a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it and rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“I’ll go slow.” He whispers.

You gave him a smile and a nod after a moment, letting him know he can continue to slide his cock in your pussy. The stretch from his cock stung, but it also felt good. Steve gave you a moment to adjust to his size when his cock was fully inside of you. You gave him another nod, letting him know he can start thrusting.

Steve’s hands found their place on your hips and he started thrusting. His thrusts started at a slow and loving pace before speeding them up. Your hands held onto his biceps. Your nails dug in his skin.

“Holy shit!” You moaned loudly. “You’re so big!” You moaned again.

Your moans urged him on. Steve sped up his thrusts a little bit more. His cock was hitting all of the right spots inside of you.

Steve leaned back just enough to look down at his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy, his cock glistening in your slick.

“Fuck…” Steve moans at the sight. “Your pussy feels incredible.” He says, tilting his head back.

In the spur of the moment, you grabbed the chain of Steve’s Army dog tags, giving it a tug to pull him down for a kiss. The kiss was heated. Your lips moved in sync with his. Steve’s tongue licked across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his tongue in your mouth. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

You pulled away from the kiss, moaning loudly when Steve’s cock hit the one spot inside of you. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your face against the crook of his neck. You placed soft kisses against his neck. Your teeth nipped on his skin just enough to mark him up.

“I wanna try something.” Steve says.

Steve hooked his arms under your knees and leaned over you, fucking you faster. It felt like his cock reached impossibly deeper. Your mouth fell open and your head fell back against the pillow, moans of pleasure leaving your lips.

Steve dipped his head dip, kissing along your collarbones and the column of your throat. His teeth nipped at your skin. He licked every hickey he left on your neck and collarbones.

“Oh fuck, yes! Steve!” You moaned loudly.

Steve loves the sound of your moans and the way his name sounds coming from your lips. He reached his hand down to your clit and began rubbing it. You took a glance down at him fucking you before looking up at him. His eyes were full blown with lust.

You needed his lips on yours. You couldn’t help but kiss him again. This kiss was a bit sloppy, but also sweet and passionate. You moaned against his lips. You two pulled away from each other’s lips, looking at each other breathlessly.

“I can feel you getting close, sweetheart.” Steve’s fingers rubbed your clit faster. “You gonna cum?” He asks.

You moaned and nodded. You felt your orgasm building up even more. It felt like you were going to fall over the edge any second.

“Cum for me, honey.” He says.

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his name leaving your lips in a loud pornographic moan.

“That’s a good girl.” Steve praises. “Good fucking girl.” He praises again.

Steve gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm. His orgasm was building up fast as well. Grunts and moans left his lips the closer he was getting to coming.

“Cum inside of me.” You tell him, your voice sounding seductive.

“Fuck…” He moans at your dirty words.

He came inside of you shortly after you said that. His thrusts came to slow stop. Steve gently took your legs off of his shoulders and pulled out of you. He laid down next to you and covered the two of you up with a blanket. You moved closer to him, laying your head on his chest and played with his dog tags. Steve wrapped his arm around you.

“I won you over with affection, didn’t I?” Steve says after a moment.

You giggled and looked up at him. You leaned up a bit, kissing him softly.

“Take me on a date and I’ll show you more affection.” You murmured against his lips. “In the meantime…” You got on top of him. “I’ll show you a little preview of the affection.” You say seductively.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year ago

Note

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

“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.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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elixirfromthestars · 6 months ago

Text

Tangled Up In You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

Summary: When you and Steve get tasked with decorating the living room of the Avengers Compound, it seems like the perfect opportunity to spend some time with your crush. However, a certain tangled mess of lights would prove to make decorating a bit more difficult than you had anticipated.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff. established nickname -> angel

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> putting up christmas lights isn't as easy as it looks

a/n: And the secret is out! ₊˚⊹☆ This little winter drabble event was started because I wanted to do some gift giving for the holiday season. ˚୨୧⋆｡ So this fluffy fic is my holiday gift to you my dear Jo!! @neverthatsirius-jo ♡ I know how much you adore Steve, so I knew I had to write something for him just for you!! Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

main masterlist ♡ || fluffy winter drabbles masterlist ❆

You grumble an incoherence under your breath, stepping back and looking at the piles of cardboard boxes littering the living room of the Avengers Compound. Each one is filled with various holiday decorations you and Steve have been “tasked” adorning the living room with.

Last night, during the team’s weekly game night, it was decided that the two people who lost the most games by the end of the night would be stuck with the responsibility of decorating the only undecorated room left in the Compound—the living room.

Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately for you—you and Steve were the two losers of the night. You didn’t mind having to decorate on your day off, and you certainly didn’t mind spending the afternoon with Steve. He was one of your closest friends—a friend you have been secretly crushing on for months. You were hoping that this time together could help you muster up the courage to finally ask him out on a date.

Fingers crossed that, unlike last night, luck would be on your side when asking him.

While Steve brought in the remaining boxes from the storage room, you were going through each of the cardboard boxes to try and get an idea of what you had to work with. This was your first holiday season at the Compound, so you didn’t have last year's decor to reference back on.

You make your way over to one of the larger cardboard boxes, one whose height goes up to your waist. You notice the word lights scribbled on the side of it in black permanent marker before you open it. Inside, as you expected, are an abundance of Christmas lights. All an extensive tangled web of cords and bulbs. You couldn’t tell how many sets of lights were inside, but you did know whoever stored them previously did so without a care in the world. Now, they were left in a mangled knot you’d have to find the patience to undo.

Maybe luck wasn’t on your side today…

You huff as you begin pulling the strands of lights out of the box. Your eyes go wider by the second as they appear to be never-ending. Almost as if you were pulling the lights from a magician’s hat, yards upon yards of string poured out. It made you wonder if Wanda had enchanted the box for it to have been able to fit so much.

By the time the box was empty, you were in the midst of the pile of lights, carefully trying to make a path by sweeping the cords on the ground with your foot. This backfires on you quickly as the cords end up around your ankles. When you try to free them, your wrists somehow end up joining in on the vine-like restriction.

The pattern of you trying to free yourself from the web of lights only to end up getting more entrapped by them continues until you can no longer discern where you start and where the lights end. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculous situation you have gotten yourself into.

“I think there’s only—” Steve's words freeze in midair along with himself as he walks into the living room and sees the predicament you’re in. The Christmas lights cover you from head to toe as if you had been decorating yourself in them. His eyes sparkle with amusement, but he keeps his lips in a tight line to stop himself from laughing.

“Y/n, how did you…?”

“Please help.”

Embarrassment bubbles within every ounce of you—to say the least—and with no dignified explanation of how you got like this, you look everywhere but at Steve. Staring intently at the ground when he sets down the boxes in his arms and carefully makes his way over to you.

“I think you took out the lights Tony used last year to outline the roof. That’s why there’s so many of them,” Steve explains kindly as a way to make you feel better, delicately pulling at the lights around your body to find the ones easiest to take off of you first. Your eyes slowly make their way to meet his baby blue ones. Your embarrassment melts away at the gentle way he’s staring at you—no judgment in sight. However, you don’t miss the way the corners of his lips twitch as he holds back a smile.

“You can laugh, it's okay. This is pretty funny.”

“I’m not going to laugh at you, angel.”

“Laugh with me then.”

The nickname he uses only for you is enough to bring a smile to your face, but when a few light chuckles leave his lips at your permission—your smile widens until your soft laughter joins his.

What happens next will forever be unexplainable to both of you. Somehow, in the midst of trying to untangle you, the string of lights find themselves around Steve’s chest constricting his movement. You try to help him, but you’re not in the best position to. So from here on out, you go back and forth trying to help one another only to end up enveloped further by the lights.

You both laugh it off until you realize how close the lights have tangled you to each other. If you step any closer you’d be pressed up against Steve, the mere possibility sends your heart racing. Your nerves get the better of you, attempting to step back only to almost slip backward if it weren’t for Steve reaching out to catch you before you did.

Ultimately, pressing you up against him so you wouldn’t fall.

“You alright, angel?” He asks you tentatively, scanning you over as if you had fallen.

You nod slowly, the words getting caught in your throat at his proximity. The scent of his cologne, an earthy spice that is mixed with something that is entirely him fills your senses, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter dreamily.

Your eyes gravitate to his lips and when they do his breath hitches. Your gaze shoots up to meet his and in his pretty blues you swear you see the same desire you hold.

You’re dying to kiss him, and you think he is too.

Steve’s eyes lock on your lips, and that’s all the confirmation you need to gather the courage to pull him in for a kiss. It starts hesitant, yet sweet, both of you testing the waters of what it feels like to kiss one another. It doesn’t take long for Steve to deepen the kiss, wanting to pour his feelings for you out in the open. The dilemma of the lights is long forgotten as the kiss consumes all of your thoughts.

The snapping sound of a phone camera isn’t enough to break the kiss, but the flash that follows it is. You look over to see Bucky smirking proudly at the sight of his best friend kissing you and Sam making fun of Bucky for not knowing how to take a photo without the flash on.

“Seriously, you two?” Steve shakes his head at his friends, his cheeks rosy with a hint of bashfulness at the way his best friends are acting. You can feel your face getting hot as well, knowing there was no way you were ever going to live down getting tangled up in Christmas lights with Steve.

As for the picture of the kiss…you were definitely going to ask Bucky for a copy later.

When you tune back into their conversation, Sam has a shit-eating grin on his face, “You should make that this year's Christmas card.”

“Sam!”

You giggle at Sam’s teasing and at Steve’s attempt at scolding him. Steve seems mortified until he notices the way you don’t seem to mind the teasing. He stares at you with a fond expression, wanting more than anything to be alone with you again.

“Don’t you two have chores to do? Y/n and I are kind of busy here,” Steve motions to the web of lights that cover you and him from head to toe. Despite that, the twinkle of mischief in Sam’s eyes tells you he’s not done with either of you yet.

“Kissing or decorating?”

“Sam!”

After a few more rounds of teasing that leave Steve wondering when the earth will swallow him whole, Sam and Bucky finally retreat—leaving him alone with you once more.

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you angel—I promise,” Steve apologizes to you, an endearing embarrassment on his features. You shake your head with a soft smile, intending to tell him not to worry about it until an idea pops into your head.

“How about you make it up to me tomorrow? We can check out that new coffee place down on Orchard if you’d like,” you suggest, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you await his answer. He lights up at your suggestion, “I’d love to. It’s a date then?” That last part comes out as a whispered question, wondering if you’d see it the same way he did.

“It’s a date,” you confirm, moving against the restricting lights enough to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

So it seems luck was on your side all along after all.

#glimpses of love in the snowfall #elixirs snowfall daydreams #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america fluff #captain america x you

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moviegurl2002 · 3 days ago

Text

Gotta love a shy Steve Rogers and reader fic!💞💕

Social Media [Steve Rogers x Reader]

Summary: Reader teaches Steve how to use social media and he sees her more provocative pictures.

Authors Note: This was written with the intention of a second part so let me know by the end if that sounds appealing. Enjoy!

WC: 1.2k

Steve might have been over a hundred years old but he did his best to keep up with the times. Over the past two years of being with the Avengers, Steve and you had fallen into routine of you casually keeping him up to date with societal standards and routines. Whether it was explaining to him hookup culture or ubers, he was always attentive during your lessons.

You hadn't recognized it, but the past few months, Steve had been taking extra care to impress you. Listening and being there for you was something he took extra pride in as he wanted you to know that he cared.

Little did he know, you had also grown quite fond off the talks you would share. The way his shoulder would brush yours would send shocks down your spine as you tried to ignore any type of non platonic feelings. You truly believed he could never feel that way about you, so you did your best to maintain the friendship.

It was especially hard to keep this act up though when he was staring at you with those bright blue eyes that peered straight into your thumping heart, as he was doing now.

"Please teach me how to use the online medias. Tony won't stop posting pictures of my butt and posting them on the bird app calling it 'America's Ass'." Steve shuttered as he recounted the memes the team would make of him when he wasn't looking. Tony did have a secret spam that he would use to often make fun of the team in a loving way. Everyone assumed it was Peter's doing until you walked in one day on Tony snickering while posting a photo of Clint having fallen asleep in one of the vents.

Looking back at the tall and brutally handsome man in front of you, you sighed and patted the seat on the couch next to you. Steve gave you that faint worthy smile as he politely sat within arms reach of you. The body heat he gave off made you want to melt but you brushed it off and gestured for his phone.

"Oh right!" He fumbled as he patted his pockets down for the phone under Stark Technologies. Steve was one of the only people who denied all the updates Tony would provide for all the team's tech. You always felt bad as using technology for Steve was hard enough without all the constant updates of flashy nonsense.

"So first I'm going to go to the app store and download some of the more common social media apps like Twitter and Instagram." You gently explained as Steve watched you maneuver throughout his phone. He was always left in awe of how natural it all came to you.

"And I don't have to pay for it?" He questioned as you shook your head.

"Nope! Some apps cost money but most don't. Either way, Tony probably would cover it no problem." You stated as the apps downloaded.

Once they were loaded, you opened Instagram and began to sign Steve up. Since there was already an account for Captain America, run by the team's press, there was no need to create a professional one.

"Now I'm gonna make you an account just for your personal use, not to promote any avengers things. Just for Steve!" He nodded along as you rambled, just in awe of you. Honestly you could say anything and he would probably go along with it.

"You can use this account to post or not post whatever. Some people use it for aesthetic pictures they take, photos of friends and family or just selfies of themselves."

"What do you post?" Steve asked as your rambling was cut short. You should've expected this question but you never thought your crush/friend/coworker would ever see your feed (seeing as Steve is clueless when it comes to the internet).

You blushed and stammered to answer, "Well I post pictures of my friends, food I really liked or photos that I look good in I guess..." You mumble the last part and internally beg he wouldn't request to see it. The reason for this being that you had a couple bikini pictures up that usually weren't a problem or shameful secret, but you just didn't want Steve seeing them.

"Can I follow you?" Steve asks with a soft look in his eyes. Your heart fluttered as you pretended to be chill and shrugged looking back at his phone. You proceeded to look up your account and followed it before quickly exiting before he had a chance to see anything.

Steve smiled at you before continuing the conversation, "Thank you for helping me with all this. I didn't want to ask the others and have them make fun of me." He shyly stated as you looked at the man with wide eyes. You didn't realize how comfortable he felt around you until you realized you were the person he came to for help with all of this.

"Oh Steve, it's no problem at all! Plus you're such a fast learner that it's no big deal." Plus you loved being around him so that made it easy. You weren't gonna tell him that last part though...

After another hour of explaining how social media worked, Steve gave you another genuine smile and excused himself to go finish up a last minute report. The second he left the room you let out an exhausted sigh and sunk back into the couch.

Everytime Steve was around you, you got so in your own head that he basically consumed your mind. Little did you know you had the same effect on Steve. The second he stepped into his office, he let out a sigh he didn't realize he was holding. The only real reason he wanted to get on social media was to see all the photos you always seemed to be posting. He saw one of your photos on Natashas phone the other day when she left it out and had never felt so compelled to steal something before.

Within the privacy of his office, Steve finally brought his phone back out and opened Instagram. Going to his following page like you taught him, he opened your account and almost passed out. Right there on your third latest post was a picture of you and Wanda from a hike you had gone on a couple days prior.

Looking at the blissful smile on your face, Steve felt himself falling even harder for you. He continued to scroll through your account until he landed on one of your posts from a couple months ago. You had gone with the girls on a beach trip (funded by Tony) and had a mini photoshoot at the beach. Steve's face flushed bright red as he tried not to look too hard at the photo. He couldn't help but admire the red one piece you were wearing and how it hugged each of your curves in a way that left his mouth watering.

Fumbling to exit out of the photo before he continued to think the lewd thoughts forming in his mind, Steve accidentally hit the like button. Actively trying to not mess up further, Steve threw his phone across the room, hoping it would turn off. Digging his nails into the desk, he took deep breaths as to try and erase the image of you looking so breathtakingly stunning in his mind.

Hesitantly going to pick back up his phone, Steve noticed a new message from you. He quickly opened it up to find a text that made his breath catch, "Come meet me in my room in 10". Holy shit.

Authors Note: Comment if you want a part 2 with smut ;)

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ronearoundblindly · 2 days ago

Text

Lineage

platonic Bucky Barnes x Alpine!Reader Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Reader

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Summary: A news story leads your father straight to you, but do you care what he has to say? Steve and Bucky sure don't...

Warnings for mild language and talk of bad situations (child abuse, alcohol abuse, injury, death) ((that sounds awful but it's quick, I swear)). Angst with a happy ending. For safety, though these things are only vaguely discussed, MINORS DNI for this chapter! WC ~2k

The storms have lasted 44 hours so far. Since his apartment is too small for two full-grown humans (who aren’t a couple) to live, you’ve spent the majority of these cooped-up days as Alpine. Buck has resorted to cleaning a rifle on the coffee table, and in doing so, he triggered the laser scope.

Of course, now he’s going on the second hour of using the laser to play ‘kill the bastard red dot’ with you. He’s delighted at your animated, affronted attack on the lightning fast devil, playing along that the perfectly uncatchable point is simply slipping from your paws. It is a blast to chase, but his laugh values even higher than you can jump up the wall.

The dot disappears.

Your eyes are wild, your furry chest heaving from the exercise of jumping and flipping.

Bucky’s phone is turned over in his hand, and he glares seriously at the screen, taking a deep breath. You think it’s because he’s been called to a mission.

Instead, he bites his cheek and looks your way. “Pretty girl,” he says softly, “I need you to not freak out, okay?”

That can’t be good.

“Human-style freak out, I mean.”

Your eyes sting in the drying wind lashing past your fur, but as much as you’d like to blame the alarming tap of errant raindrops in your face, it’s actually that you would be crying were you in your real form right now.

By the time you and Bucky walk up to HQ, you’ve decided it’s best to get this over with. You’d choose to never do this, if you could, but that ship has sailed.

“You don’t have to go in there,” Bucky assures you, the stairwell door clicking shut to give you some privacy to shift. “You give me the word and Steve sends him packing.”

“I’m fine.” You yank the door open and barrel past him. “I’m fine.”

Bucky whistles and ticks his head the other way down the hall. In your defense, you’ve never gone to Steve’s actual office. You’ve only been in this building a handful of times really.

The first face you see inside is his, deliberately placed to show you concern and empathy, because Steve, like Bucky, fears this interaction.

Your father doesn’t even look up.

He sits on a small couch, wringing his hands, a flask and the news article with your picture, smiling, on the coffee table in front of him.

That’s how he found you: a candid photo where Tony Stark stood beside you after creating your collar. The blur in the corner of the photo is Steve’s back if you remember correctly.

Dad focuses on the small vessel like booze will answer all his prayers.

Some things never change.

“Could we have some privacy?” he asks you meekly.

Before your lips can part, both men behind you bark “no,” punctuated by Steve’s “no way.”

As much as you don’t want Steve and Bucky to know about your previous life, you’re comforted. You cannot stand for them to leave you alone with this man. Buck perches in a corner, looking fittingly scary. After you take a seat across from your father, Steve remains at your shoulder but not too close, arms crossed over his broad chest.

And so it begins.

Though less contentious than you expected, Dad starts into a long-winded excuse that lacks almost any detail. When your father says he looked for you, Steve bristles and bites out a strained “not good enough” before chewing his tongue instead. The sudden gesture not only made your father squeak in alarm, but you shrank away from him in the chair.

He brought alcohol in a flask but swears it’s been hours since he’s had a drop.

“I have a theory that you’re like me…and I drink so I won’t…change.”

He’s ready to tell you even if you aren’t; Mom knew only that he left home at a very young age, but the truth is he ran away.

Your grandparents fought a lot apparently, and grandpa beat his wife and son. Dad was abused, and abused, and then he escaped by ‘changing.’

He doesn’t specify. He just…changed. He ran, terrified for many reasons, and couldn’t get back home, couldn’t control it, and got caught in a sticky trap and had to rip skin off of his foot.

It hurt, your father swears, so he tried to numb it like he saw his mother and father do. Alcohol made it easier, but he couldn’t control it.

“Stole jewelry mostly, small things I could carry and hoard, so when I changed back, I could pawn them,” Dad confesses. “You see, when Princess came around and meant so much to your mom, I drank. It was the only way I knew how to stay human! So—so the cat wouldn’t hurt me, but if I couldn’t…”

That’s how he lost ‘his job,’ which wasn’t a real job and wasn’t being supportive of you and mom and certainly wasn’t being a good man anyway.

He hoped you weren’t like him. If he’d told you or Mom and you’d freaked out? He thought he’d end up in a lab somewhere. He was so afraid all the time. Then Mom died, you ran away, he realized you could have shifted and been scared. He looked for you but has no answers, no real understanding of any of it, no stability to offer.

Dad is close to tears, his fingers instinctively stretching toward the flask.

“I wasn’t worth coming back to. I know that. I’ve done too much—too little in the past to be forgiven. I was never wanted this way.”

He becomes jumpier and more agitated by the minute, and then Steve grumbles a single phrase.

“Abused becoming abusers in different ways.”

Your father shivers, squeaks again, and begins to shift. His clothes pile there empty, cascading from the cushions to the floor until a pink nose nuzzles out from between a shirt tail and waistband.

“Oh,” Bucky startles. “Oh.”

“It’s…it’s a rat,” Steve deadpans in confusion. They weren’t paying the closest attention to your father’s implications, likely horrified to know this much more about your past and childhood, this stuff you never talk about because you like to focus on the future.

“Give us some space,” you sigh reluctantly. “Please.”

You know he needs to feel safe but won’t with two super soldiers towering over him in an unknown building.

“Only because you asked,” Bucky says loudly. “Be right outside.”

Steve’s hand rests on your shoulder for a long moment while he debates moving at all. Finally, when Bucky holds the door open for him, Steve lets go and steps closer to the couch, several terrified squeaks coming from the corner.

“We would never hurt her.” Then near silently. “We love her.”

He’s out before you process the words.

In the quiet that follows, while your father calms down and you…think, you go around to the other side of Steve’s desk, hoping the physical distance will help both of you feel less caged.

There—in the righthand, prominent spot by the pen cup—is a framed sketch of you, as Alpine, sleeping. Your chest tightens, full of the lucky feeling that springs from being so much better than the broken creature on the other side of the room. You were older when you shifted. You found Bucky on day one. Those two sweet and patient men barely blinked when you posted needed them.

Dad had none of that.

He coped, but he coped poorly.

Sure, you were both scared and confused, completely caught off-guard by the shift, but you were angry, too. You were grieving and determined. You were…

…not alone.

“I learned to control it,” you project over the desk. “You can, too. In fact, I—I hope you do because burying all your worries and insecurities in alcohol isn’t fucking working.”

Dad reforms in the corner by the couch, pulling his clothes over him quickly. “I know,” he admits.

“Mom would have wanted you to get better, to feel better without numbing yourself. She…she really loved you.”

“I know.” You spin the desk chair around while he slips on his clothing. “They really love you here, too, huh?”

You bite back a smile, realizing the truth of it. You’re not in a ‘phase’ of life. You don’t have to move on from them, your people, your family.

“This—“ you say confidently “—is not a place people like us need to hide.”

Bucky takes over handling your father’s travel back to his home. Dad will be offered any resources he needs to learn to shift at will, but it won’t be you who oversees it. You’re not there yet.

Steve’s hand is on your waist or the small of your back from the instant you emerge, uncaring who in the hallway is watching. Once your father is out of sight, he steers you into his shadow and asks what he can do, what you need from him right now, and you squirrel yourself into the office again.

Steve’s steadying hand becomes an arm then the other, an all-encompassing hug that warms you somehow deeper than your very bones.

Family is exhausting. Family is everything, too.

“I was so young,” he whispers, face buried in your hair while yours nuzzles to his chest, “but I know Ma was…I know my father had his demons. Then my ma fought everybody’s—taught me to fight everybody’s demons—but you don’t have to. It’s an excuse. Unless he proves he’s sorry? Well, even saying it doesn’t undo—“

“Can I stay here a while?” you interrupt. It’s not that you don’t appreciate what Steve’s telling you, but you’ve had enough of talking, you’ve had enough of listening, and you want to settle your soul in the comfortable place it was just hours ago, joyfully bouncing around chasing an uncatchable dot. That feat seems more possible now than fixing a broken relationship.

“Of course,” Steve mumbles to your temple.

You let the shrinking feeling takeover and shift into Alpine. He immediately understands you’re done talking, returning to his desk, assuming you’ll curl up on the couch for some distance.

Rain batters the lone, thin window. Bucky won’t ride back to the apartment in this weather if he can help it, so he’ll wait it out as well.

Instead, you hop into Steve’s lap and watch him type out a message to Buck that you’re okay.

Before you lay down for a nap, one desperately needed to replenish your wiped out emotional bandwidth, you step up on Steve’s pec to headbutt his strong jaw. The fondness makes him chuckle.

He cups his hand around your side and kisses your soft head.

“Careful there, cutie, or I’ll take you home with me.”

Wouldn’t be so bad, you think, enjoying the soothing pitter-patter of drops down the glass pane and the subtle roar from wind, since he loves me an’ all.

[Next Part: Borrowed For Blue]

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers Series List; Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

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#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #alpine the cat #companion animal series #shapeshifter #shapeshifter!reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes fic #angst with a happy ending #angst with comfort #angst with fluff #steve rogers fluff

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witchywithwhiskey · 6 months ago

Text

if the fates allow

pairing: avenger!captain america!steve rogers x tall!shield agent!female reader

summary: steve rogers accidentally got drunk at the avengers tower christmas party, and you're the one tasked with helping him get to bed. it's a good thing you have plenty of practice keeping your crush on him a secret.

warnings: sexual tension, steve is drunk, reader is conflicted (nothing happens while steve's drunk), feelings are expressed, kissing, sleepy cuddling, i think that's pretty much it!

word count: 2.9k

a/n: here's my december 13 fic for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, using the prompt: "I didn't know the egg nog was spiked!" tried to keep this one short and sweet so that i can catch up, so if something doesn't make sense, just ignore it i guess! also this is my first time writing a specifically tall!reader and that was nice since i'm on the taller side 😅 hope y'all enjoy!! ♡

december daze challenge masterlist

“I didn't know the egg nog was spiked!”

Steve Rogers’ voice was louder than it needed to be, and so close to your ear that you winced a little. You kept walking, a massive arm looped around your shoulders while you half-carried the ungodly large body of Captain America and tried not to think about how good he smelled.

Why exactly you had been tasked with helping the very drunk Steve Rogers to his quarters after the Avengers Tower Christmas party was still a bit of a mystery to you. You’d seen Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark with their heads bent close, like they were conspiring about something, and the next thing you knew, Bruce Banner was asking you to help Steve get to bed.

The phrasing of the request had sent your heart skittering in your chest, even under the less-than-ideal circumstances of its reality. You’d had a crush on Steve Rogers since you’d met him as part of your SHIELD assignment to Avengers Tower, and you liked to think you’d kept it secret from everyone.

But, well, you did work with spies for a living, and you had a feeling Natasha and Tony’s conspiring had something to do with your predicament.

You’d tried to protest Bruce’s request. Sure, you were one of the taller female SHIELD agents, but you were by no means the strongest person on your team, especially when it included Brock Rumlow. But apparently everyone else had gone home or they were helping someone else, and you were the only one who could do it.

Frank Sinatra’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” had been playing from the sound system of the Avengers Tower lounge as you’d made your way over to where Steve lay sprawled across the entire length of a sofa. He was singing along to the Christmas song—loudly and off-key—and nerves and excitement had fluttered through your belly like snowflakes on a winter wind.

You’d shoved your emotions away and put on the professional mask you always wore around Steve, pasting a polite smile on your face as you leaned over him and told him, in a not unkind voice, that you were going to help him get to bed.

He’d given you a dreamy smile and did his best to help you lift his large body from the sofa while you’d ignored the way the snowflakes in your tummy had swooped at his happy expression and close proximity.

With one arm wrapped around Steve’s waist and the other holding onto his wrist so his arm wouldn’t fall from your shoulders, you lifted a leg and kicked the elevator call button with your foot, only remembering to check to make sure no one was around after you’d done so.

Oh well. If you’d flashed someone with the move, the most they’d see under the short skirt of your cocktail dress was the gun strapped to your thigh and the shapewear the tight, clingy garment had required you to wear. Thankfully, no one was around except the super-soldier draped across your shoulders, his head propped sleepily against yours.

“Of course it was spiked, captain,” you said, picking up the thread of the conversation he’d started. Your voice was patient and professional, if a little cold. “It was Stark’s Christmas party—he spiked all the egg nog with Asgardian liquor.”

The doors of the elevator slid open soundlessly and you huffed a sigh of relief as you dragged Steve in. You made sure he was propped up against the corner of the elevator, then stepped away to hit the button for his floor. As discreetly as you could, you wiped some sweat from your brow before turning back to Captain America.

The expression on Steve’s face drew you up short. He was…not frowning exactly. Was that a…pout?

You tilted your head to the side, your eyes poring carefully over Steve Rogers’ familiar features—the little pinched line between his brows, the dimmed sparkle of his blue eyes, the protrusion of his lush lower lip. You forced yourself not to linger on his mouth, even though it looked particularly inviting…

Yes, that was definitely a pout, you decided.

Before you could wonder about what you’d said to garner such a reaction from Steve, he was talking. Or, rather, muttering.

“I don’t like it when you call me captain,” he grumbled.

The elevator was nearing Steve’s floor so you moved closer to him again, ignoring the way your body warmed when you pressed into his side and lifted his arm over your shoulder. The fresh scent of him wrapped around you like the most delicious blanket, and you wanted more than anything to be able to breathe it in until it lived permanently in your lungs.

“What should I call you then?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself from your body’s reaction to Steve. He was drunk, and you needed to get yourself under control.

You tried to pull him out of the corner, but you didn’t have enough leverage and instead of budging the big super-soldier, you bounced back into him, landing against his hard chest with a surprised little “oomph.”

Before that moment, you’d known, in theory, that you were only a couple inches shorter than Steve Rogers. But it was easy to forget because he had such a large presence, and he could very easily toss you around that mats of the Avengers Tower gym with his super-strength.

However, in that moment you learned that the minimal height difference between you and Steve Rogers had a consequence you hadn’t considered. When you fell against his chest, your face was almost perfectly level with his—specifically, your mouth was almost perfectly level with his.

You could taste the Asgardian rum on Steve’s breath and the thought of closing the distance and licking it from his lips was far more tempting than it should’ve been.

“Steve,” he rumbled, his arm tightening around your shoulders and hauling you even closer. “You should call me Steve.”

Your soft curves molded to the hard planes of his body and your breath caught in your throat as your mind raced, trying to figure out what he was doing. His blue eyes were dark, even under the bright lights of the elevator, and they were fixed very firmly on your lips—but they were still glazed from all he’d had to drink.

“Steve,” you said, his name soft and tortured as it fell from your lips, your eyes dropping to his mouth.

You knew you couldn’t kiss Captain America while he was drunk, and you knew that if he tried to pull you any closer, you’d have to push him away. But you wanted so desperately to close the distance between your lips, the desire felt like it might incinerate you from the inside out.

The ding of the elevator arriving at Steve’s floor brought you back to reality and you jumped away from the super-soldier, shaking your head at yourself as you grabbed his arm and heaved his weight onto your shoulders. You dragged him out of the elevator on stumbling feet, your mind spinning with what you’d almost done—what Steve actually had done.

For all the time you’d crushed on Steve Rogers, he’d never shown any indication of reciprocating your feelings. He’d always been just as professional and aloof as you’d been, and you’d taken that to mean he didn’t have any interest in you outside of work. But you were beginning to rethink your assessment…

Thankfully, Steve remained quiet and well-behaved for the trip down the hall to his quarters, and getting him inside seemed a bit easier after your practice with the elevator. You half-carried him to his bed and it took only a little push to have him sit down on the soft mattress.

Somehow, the movement left you standing between Steve’s spread legs, his arm curled around your waist from where it had fallen off your shoulder. His face was close again—closer than it should’ve been as he looked up at you from where he sat.

“Pretty…” he murmured, the fingertips of his free hand reaching for you but hovering just a hair’s breadth away from touching you. “You’re so…pretty.”

Heat suffused your cheeks and you ducked your head. “Steve,” you whined softly, your fingers wrapping around his wrists, trying to extricate yourself from his hold. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he said softly, your name falling sweetly from his lips. He brushed his thumb over your cheek so gently, it made your knees wobble.

You’d managed to get some distance from him, but the sound of your name made you stop. You looked at Steve, and his eyes were still slightly glazed from all the spiked egg nog he’d drank.

You huffed a laugh that was sad and humorless. Of course the only time Steve had shown any interest in you, he was drunk.

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk and maybe I’ll believe you, Steve,” you said, a little forlornly, and pulled his hand away from your face, dropping it in his lap.

Stepping backward, you broke out of his hold, ignoring the way he was pouting again.

“Stay with me,” Steve said, his fingers catching the tips of yours as you turned away.

The desperation in his tone halted your retreat. When you looked at Steve again, his eyes were a little clearer, and his expression was pleading. You didn’t know if it was the best idea to crawl into bed with Captain America while he was drunk.

You were pretty sure he’d fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, so nothing would happen, but you worried about your heart. If you spent a whole night sleeping in Steve’s bed, breathing in Steve’s scent, it would be that much harder to pretend you didn’t have feelings for him. And you couldn’t seem to imagine he had feelings for you, despite what he’d said.

“Please,” Steve said, his voice cracking slightly. His face was washed in the dim light of the New York City skyline filtering in through the windows, and he looked like a work of art come to life, flawlessly gorgeous features and perfectly expressive eyes.

Your heart thumped in your chest, and were helpless to resist his request.

“OK,” you whispered, twining your fingers with his and giving his hand a small squeeze while you smiled shyly.

Steve beamed happily at you and then flopped back on the bed. A grin was still fixed on his face while he kicked off his shoes and fought to pull down the blankets so he could slide under them.

You bit back a laugh at his gleeful reaction, shaking your head as you went to the bathroom to clean off your makeup and strip out of your gun holster and shapewear. Thankfully, your dress was comfortable enough to sleep in for one night.

When you returned, you found Steve passed out under the covers still wearing all of his clothes. You took a moment to appreciate his handsome features, softened in sleep, and then slipped into bed beside him, leaving plenty of space between your bodies.

It took you a little while to fall asleep, but the quiet, steady snores coming from Steve helped lull you, and eventually you drifted off.

The soft wintry light of the morning sunrise was just beginning to peak over the Manhattan skyline when you roused, your body bathed in a nearly overwhelming heat that came from something pressed against your back and banded around your waist.

It took you a long, groggy moment to realize the source of that heat was Steve Rogers.

At some point in the night, he must’ve moved closer and wrapped himself around you because one of his arms was curled around your waist while his broad chest was pressed flush against your back. You were so close together, you could feel his steady heartbeat against your spine.

You must’ve shifted even to wake him because you heard the tenor of Steve’s breathing change. He buried his face in the back of your head and took a deep breath before letting out a contented sigh.

“Pretty girl,” he mumbled, the words muffled and barely discernable. His arm squeezed tighter around your waist, dragging you even further into the wondrously warm cage of his body.

The sound of you sucking in a sharp breath was loud in the silent bedroom and Steve suddenly tensed. Quick as a flash, he removed his arm from around your waist and shuffled back a few inches, giving you space.

Cold flooded in, even while you were still buried under the blankets, and you had to fight off a shiver. You missed his warmth, but you also needed to understand what was going on. You took a deep, steadying breath and then rolled over, looking at Steve warily.

He was propped up on one arm, his blond hair mussed from sleep and his cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. But his blue eyes were clear and curious, watching your reaction with interest.

“What did you call me?” you asked in a trembling, hesitant voice. It probably wasn’t the first question you should’ve asked, but you had to know if you’d heard him correctly, and if he’d known he was talking about you when he’d said it.

Steve must’ve recognized the uncertainty in your voice or on your face because his expression softened and he lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the air next to your cheek. He was deliberately not touching you, and you had the urge to close the distance and feel his warm contact.

“You said to tell you you’re pretty when I wasn’t drunk anymore,” he said, his voice low and rough with sleep. His eyes had been wandering over your features, like he was trying to memorize the way they looked in the wintry morning light, but his gaze caught yours before he went on. “Well, I’m not drunk and you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Steve.” His name was a soft, desperate sound, your heart racing into a gallop as you tried to process the fact that Steve Rogers thought you were pretty.

Before your mind had caught up, your hands were moving, reaching for Steve, eager to drag him closer. Your fingers were curling around the lapels of his dress shirt and you caught a glimpse of his crooked smile before you were both closing the distance between your bodies, his mouth slanting to yours for a kiss.

Heat and pleasure filled your body and soul, and you kissed Steve Rogers for the first time, your lips pressed together ungracefully in your excitement. After a few moments of blissful fumbling, you settled into a rhythm that was as delicious as it was delightful, made all the more breathtaking by the way you could feel Steve’s reverence for you in the way he held you.

It was a long time before you came up for air, and when you did, you laughed giddily when you saw the way Steve’s eyes were glazed over, a dreamy smile curling his lips, and you knew your expression matched his. He was drunk on kissing you, just as you were drunk on kissing him.

Steve dropped one last sweet kiss to your mouth and then he rolled you onto your side, tucking you into the warmth of his body while you both faced the windows, watching the sun rise over Manhattan. You were for a moment quiet as you enjoyed being with him, but something still bugged you.

“I still don’t understand why Bruce asked me to help you to bed,” you said, your fingers playing with Steve’s hand that was clasped in yours. “But I’m glad he did, since it led us to this.” You pressed a kiss to his palm, marveling at how even that part of him smelled fresh and wonderful.

At your comment, Steve made a rough sound in his throat, something halfway between a cough and a laugh. It piqued your curiosity and you turned your head, catching his eye over your shoulder.

“That might be my fault,” he admitted, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I may have confessed to Nat that I think you’re pretty—and she’s been trying to set me up for ages.”

Suddenly, everything from the night before clicked into place. Natasha and Tony’s conspiring, the way your SHIELD teammates were all otherwise occupied, the fact that Bruce—the least devious, and therefore, least suspicious of all the Avengers—had been the one to ask you to help Steve.

It was all a very elaborate setup, and you had to feel a little impressed with Natasha, even as you rolled your eyes because it didn’t need to be so complicated. She could’ve just asked if you were interested, and then set you two up on a normal date. Instead, she’d concocted an elaborate scheme, just to get you and Steve alone.

But you had to admit, it did work…

“You Avengers can never do anything the easy way, can you?” you teased, grinning at Steve over your shoulder. You reached back, fingers twining in his hair and pulling him close enough to brush a kiss to his lips.

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” Steve murmured playfully against your mouth, kissing you more deeply before settling back down on the bed.

For the next little while, you watched the December sunrise with Steve Rogers, basking in the feeling of being in his arms while he idly hummed “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” in between brushing delicious kisses to your neck.

You did have yourself a very merry Christmas indeed.

december daze challenge masterlist

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #captain america steve rogers #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans fluff #christmas fanfiction #december daze #witchywithwhiskeywork #tall reader

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tea-writes19 · 7 days ago

Text

hit single | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader

summary: when peter drags steve to a concert, he doesn’t expect to fall for the artist

warnings: popstar!reader, fluff, swearing, not infinity war and endgame compliant, basically they defeated thanos in wakanda, steve being an old man, famous!reader, comedy, suggestive content?, very very minor sambucky, like it’s not explicitly mentioned, but it’s implied

a/n: first steve fic!!! got inspired watching eras tour movie👀 also i really need to get onto those joaquin fics, but i’m just on a roll with the smau’s in my brain rn😩 anyways enjoy lovelies!!

peterparker added to their story —>

[caption: so readddyyyy!!!!]

story replies

nedleeds: sooo exciteddd!!!!

user1: omg you’re at y/n’s concert toooo???!!

user2: so jealous😫

liked by nedleeds, samwilson, mjjones, and others

peterparker: pov: captain america falling in love with y/n l/n

tagged: @/nedleeds @/mjjones @/steverogers @/yourusername

view comments below

user3: can’t believe i could’ve met STEVE ROGERS and Y/N tonight😩

nedleeds: best night ever!!!!!!

user4: y/n l/n supremacy🗣️

peterparker: hear hear!

user5: omg i was there too!!!

user6: same!!

user7: literally best night of my life

user8: frfr

mjjones: i think i lost my voice from screaming😩

samwilson: ngl kinda salty i didn’t get asked to be y’all’s chaperone😒

buckybarnes: i thought you said her music is overrated🧐

samwilson: i did not!

samwilson: i said her song ‘wildflower’ is overrated

samwilson: don’t put words in my mouth, cyborg!

user9: lmaooooo

user10: it’s okay, sam! i think wildflower’s overrated too…

yourusername: i’m sorry, WHO was at my WHAT now??!!

peterparker: oh my god

peterparker: i’m freaking out rn

peterparker: i can’t believe you saw this🫣😅

user11: omg omg omg, y/n commented!!!

user12: lowkey need her and cap to meet now…

liked by steverogers, peterparker, mjjones, and others

yourusername: nyc i love you🤍

ps captain rogers, i am single!

view comments below

user13: best night of my life!

user14: i need tickets rn…

user15: not her shooting her shot😭

user16: i love her

user17: she’s just like me fr

peterparker: @/steverogers cap cap cap!!!!!

samwilson: @/steverogers come on man!

user18: @/steverogers captain america please seeeeeeee🙏🙏

buckybarnes: @/steverogers goddamn it punk, look at your phone

steverogers: what?

steverogers: wait…

yourusername: heyyyyyyy👀

user19: 😭😭

user20: PLEASE COME TO IRELAND😩

user21: love the caption😭

user22: i’m dying at the comments😭😭

user23: y/n l/n x avengers collab when👀

user24: LITERALLY

user25: need this so bad

user26: the ao3 girls are working hard on the fics

user27: the steve rogers/y/n l/n tag already has 27 works in it😭

liked by samwilson, steverogers, peterparker, and others

yourusername: until next time nyc🫶🏻🏙️

view comments below

user28: PLEASE COME BACK!!!

user29: seeing y/n in the wild was insane!!!

user30: omg lucky😭

user31: who’s in the photo booth w/ you y/n?

user31: WHO’S IN THE FUCKING BOOTH Y/N???

user32: ^^^

user34: tell us y/n!

steverogers: i’ll have to show you brooklyn next time…

yourusername: yes please!

user35: HELLO?!?

user36: wait wait wait

user37: *sighs and opens ao3 again*

user38: lmaooo real

user39: ima bout to crash out if they don’t get together😤

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: tour shenanigans]

story replies

user40: boston n2 let’s go🥳🥳

user41: so can’t wait😩

user42: i’m so ready!!

user43: me when i don’t want to get out of bed to grab something core

user44 added to their story —>

[caption: steve rogers sighting at y/n’s show tn!!!]

story replies

user45: oh my god!!!

user46: holy shit holy shit holy—

user47: eeeeeeekkkk i’m so happy rn🥹🥹

user48: fav ship everrrrrrrrr

user49: that man is so in love😩

liked by steverogers, buckybarnes, peterparker, and others

yourusername: boston you are awesome!

view comments below

user50: omg is that cap!?

peterparker: can’t believe you played ‘daisy rain’ for boston but not nyc😒

yourusername: i’ll play it just for you another time✊😔

user51: love that she’s friends with peter now😭

user52: y/n out here collecting the avengers like infinity stones

user53: thanos is scared of her😔

user54: FOUL😭😭

user55: why’s my wife so talented😩

user56: hoe wdym? that’s my wife🤨

yourusername: calm down babes…i got two hands

steverogers: 🧐

user57: ahhhhhhhhhh

buckybarnes: i taught him how to use emojis!

samwilson: yeah…after I taught YOU how to use them😒

buckybarnes: semantics

samwilson: i hate you

buckybarnes: the feeling’s mutual

natasharomanoff: they’re literally cuddling on the couch rn…

user58: 😭😭

user59: i think i saw god tonight…

user60: alexa play ‘god is a woman’ by ariana grande

user61: ^^^

user62: not nearly enough people are freaking out over CAPTAIN AMERICA being in y/n’s post…

user63: FR they are so dating

user63: i’m calling it now

liked by yourusername, natasharomanoff, buckybarnes, and others

steverogers: brooklyn with my favorite girl🤍

tagged: @/yourusername

view comments below

user64: YOUR girl?!?

samwilson: i’m your favorite boy right?

buckybarnes: i’m right here…

user65: 😭😭

yourusername: sam might not be my favorite boy, but you certainly are🫶🏻

steverogers: you really couldn’t help yourself, huh?

yourusername: you know me so well☺️

user66: MOM HAS A NEW BF🥹

user67: literally so happy rn for her

user68: we got literal captain america as our stepdad🥹😭

user69: omg omg omg

user70: HIS FAVORITE GIRL EVERYBODY😩🥹

peterparker: and matchmaker of the year goes to…

mjjones: matchmakers*

nedleeds: ^^^

natasharomanoff: is your girl single?

steverogers: don’t even think about it nat

samwilson: am i at least your favorite black person?

samwilson: steve

samwilson: STEVE PLEASE

user71: i can’t-

user72: sam’s having an existential crisis over here😭

buckybarnes: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/howling_commandos/gabe_jones

liked by peterparker, steverogers, samwilson, and others

yourusername: happy🫶🏻☺️

tagged: @/steverogers

view comments below

user73: eeeeekkkk so happy rn

user74: mother when she mothers😩

steverogers: beyond happy with you🤍

yourusername: stop you’re making me blush🤭

samwilson: listen

samwilson: @/yourusername please tell me i’m your favorite black person

yourusername: you’re my favorite bird

samwilson: i’ll fucking take it

user75: SAM😭😭

user76: is this what a parasocial relationship feels like🥹

user77: so so so happy for you y/n!

user78: so ready for all the songs abt cap

user79: OMG YES

buckybarnes: they already have one: spotify

user80: OMG😭

user81: this comment section is a mess😭

peterparker: free tickets when?

yourusername: free spidey suit when?

peterparker: touche

#tea ☆#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smau #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america steve rogers #marvel smau #marvel fanfiction #mcu smau #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader

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moviegurl2002 · 3 days ago

Text

Some good Steve Rogers smut!❤️‍🔥

Shut Me Up

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: You rant after a long day and want Steve to shut you up.

Word Count: Over 1.3k

Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving discussed), implied sex, dirty talk, swearing, slight feels, possessive behavior, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Yeah, I don't know where this came from. Yay for Steve Rogers! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Fuck this day!” You flopped down on the bed with a sigh and pointed at Steve who stood by the closet with a small smirk on his face. “And don’t you dare give me that ‘language’ bullshit. I know what kind of mouth you have on you.”

I said “language” one time, and it’ll haunt me forever.

Steve chuckled and put his hands up in surrender. When you were in this kind of mood there was no arguing with you. Well, people could try to argue with you, but chances were they’d lose spectacularly. It impressed Bucky and Sam, and it may have scared them, too. “Wasn’t going to, sweetheart.”

Your gaze softened before anger took over your beautiful features again. “Damn right, you aren’t,” you muttered, slowly exhaling as you looked at the ceiling. “But, seriously, fuck this day.”

“Tell me about it,” he urged, shutting the closet door and leaning against it so he could keep his eyes on you. He didn’t go to the bed just yet, knowing you’d motion him over or give him a sign once you wanted him there. He also knew that whatever you had to say, you didn’t want his advice. Sometimes you needed to vent, and he was more than happy to listen. “Please?”

You sighed. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Steve listened as you launched into a tirade about the frustrations you dealt with at work today, such as fixing errors made by people in higher positions, changes to a policy that would affect your day-to-day that no one knew about in advance, and more. He tried his best not to smile when you realized how loud your voice had gotten during your rant or how you threw your hands up when something in particular got under your skin. You were so passionate, so raw, and he loved that about you.

He also did his best not to get angry on your behalf, but his jaw clenched when you mentioned a rude coworker. You could defend yourself, but it was in his nature to stand up for anyone wronged, especially his girl. If there was any kind of battle you needed to fight, he wanted to fight beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he cut in. “You deserve better.”

The words weren’t to placate you. He was sorry he couldn’t force your company to do better, and you did deserve better with all the work you put in. At the very least he needed to see if there were better jobs out there for you if things didn’t improve or somehow convince you to quit.

“Thanks,” you whispered before you continued.

He didn’t interrupt again, but he occasionally hummed or grunted so you knew he was paying attention to every word, and he was. Whenever you talked, he listened. It would always be that way.

But he wasn’t prepared for what you said next.

“I’m done,” you exhaled once your rant was over. “Now shut me up.”

“What?” he asked, his brows furrowing when you stretched out more on your back.

“I’m tired of talking and I’m tired of listening to myself rant,” you replied, hanging your head off the edge of the bed. “So fuck my throat and shut me up.”

Steve’s ocean eyes widened and he was lucky he didn’t break the door when he pushed himself off of it. “As much as I want your mouth around my cock, I should be taking care of you.” The bulge in his pants said he clearly wanted it, but you were the one who had a rough day, not him.

You giggled. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be going down on me before the day is over and you’ll give me at least two orgasms before you fuck me,” you said as a matter of fact, color creeping into his cheeks. Bold and unfiltered. He appreciated that. “And you’ll cuddle with me after.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “You want to cuddle?”

You nodded slightly and whispered, “Yes.” At the end of the day, what you wanted was for someone to love and hold you, to let you know they’d be by your side.

“All the cuddles you want,” he promised because he wanted to hold you, too.

“Good,” you said, pointing at your mouth. “Now shut me the fuck up.”

His fingers curled as he took slow strides toward the bed. “You giving me orders?” he asked, a hint of a growl in his voice.

“I am, and I expect you to obey them, Captain,” you said, letting your mouth fall open. It was a beautiful sight.

“Fuck,” he hissed, unbuttoning his pants. It was almost unfair how quickly you could make him hard. A single look, a word, and he was ready for you. He couldn’t complain when he turned you on just as easily. He knew you soaked your underwear just from the thought of his dick sliding across your tongue.

“Language,” you teased in a sing-song voice.

He shoved his pants and underwear down and heard the way your heart sped up when he stroked himself. “Thought you wanted me to shut you up.”

“Oh, I do. Shut me up. Make me choke on you, Stevie,” you said, moaning when the tip slid in.

“You gonna take me, sweetheart?” he rasped, resting a hand on your throat. “Gonna feel me here when I come?”

You moaned, taking him in deeper. With your head upside down he wanted to make sure you could still breathe. And, fuck, did your mouth feel like heaven.

“You’re gonna sit on my face and shut me up, too,” he groaned, sliding his hand to your breast and toying with your nipple through the top, his thrusts shallow at first. “But I’m writing my name with my tongue ‘cause it’s my cunt, sweetheart. Mine to worship and fuck. It’s mine.”

Your whine vibrated around the length of him. People thought he was America’s golden boy with a polite mouth, but you knew better. You loved how dirty he was with you. And, yes, he was a little possessive. So were you.

“That’s it. Don’t talk, don’t even think about work,” he ordered, his hips moving faster. You sputtered only once, but quickly adjusted like you always did. “Just suck my cock like a good girl and I’ll eat my pussy so good you’ll cry for me.”

You’d cry, beg, ride his face like your life depended on it and you’d scream his name when you came. And you’d swallow down every drop when he spilled down your throat. Give and take.

He moaned when you reached back to cradle his balls and gently squeezed. You were so good to him, knew exactly what he liked, what got him off. “Fuck, sweetheart, do that again,” he demanded, his toes curling. “Fuck, I’m-”

He couldn’t finish his warning when you squeezed once more, triggering his orgasm. He moaned your name and coated your throat with his release with a few more thrusts. Once he finished, his head still spinning, he quickly pulled out so you could breathe. Both of you panted as he checked on you through the fog of his orgasm. You didn’t lift your head just yet, but you locked eyes with him and smiled a devastatingly beautiful smile.

Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek. “Better?”

You finally lifted your head and nodded. Between the venting and having your throat fucked, you seemed in better spirits. And instead of speaking, you pointed to an empty spot on the bed. It was his turn to get you off.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirked.

And before you shut up for good, you’d softly thank him again for everything.

And in the quiet of the night, he’d thank you, too.

I need to give Steve more love, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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sosa2imagines · 2 months ago

Text

Are you mine?

Warnings- Angst, Steve and Bucky are idiots.

Being in love with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes felt like living in a dream.

A dream so perfect, so utterly untouchable, that even the ghosts of the past couldn’t tarnish it. The three of you had fought wars together, bled together, and survived against impossible odds. You trusted them with your life and, more importantly, with your heart.

Steve, ever the protector, held your hand through the nightmares, his voice a quiet promise in the dark. Bucky, all sharp wit and unspoken devotion, pressed kisses into your hair when he thought you weren’t paying attention. They made you feel safe, like nothing in the world could shake the foundation of what you had.

You belonged to them, and they belonged to you.

The compound had always been your sanctuary, a place where the weight of being an assassin and an Avenger didn’t feel so heavy.

Missions were brutal, but coming home to them made it worth it. Your mornings were tangled limbs and soft murmurs, their warmth pulling you from restless sleep. Your nights were laughter and whispered confessions, hands intertwined beneath the sheets.

Everything was fine, until she arrived.

A trainee named Cassidy.

Sent to the compound for a few days of “intense training” with the Avengers. Young, eager at least, that’s what Fury had said. But from the moment she walked through the doors, it was clear training was the last thing on her mind.

You caught the way her eyes lingered on Steve's broad shoulders, the way she smiled just a little too sweetly when Bucky grunted in response to something she said. You noticed the way she conveniently positioned herself between them whenever she could, the way her touch lingered just a second too long.

It was nothing. Just admiration, maybe even hero worship. You told yourself that, again and again. Steve and Bucky were yours. They loved you.

And yet… doubt had a way of creeping in, even where trust once lived.

For the first time in a long time, you felt something unfamiliar in your own home.

Unease.

You weren’t the jealous type, you had no reason to be, not when Steve and Bucky had given you every reassurance, every reason to trust them. And you did trust them. You trusted them blindly.

But can you trust the world?

Trust didn’t stop the ache in your chest when you saw Cassidy wedged between them on the couch, laughing at something Bucky said. It didn’t stop the sting when Steve placed a comforting hand on her back, so absentmindedly, so effortlessly, like it was second nature.

Like it was something he used to do for you.

You stood frozen in the doorway, fingers tightening around the edge of your jacket. That was your spot. That had always been your spot. Between them. Their arms around you. Their warmth surrounding you.

Now?

Now Cassidy sat there, twirling a lock of her hair, giggling, her body angled towards them like she belonged. And Steve and Bucky?

They didn’t even notice you standing there.

“You’re imagining things, Y/n.” Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping her coffee as she watched you pick at your food. She didn’t say it dismissively, but there was caution in her voice. Careful, Y/n. Don’t spiral.

“I’m not...” Your voice was hollow. You pushed your plate away and exhaled shakily. “She’s always there, Nat. Always with them. Always touching them...” You swallowed hard, shame burning in your throat. “I feel like… like I don’t exist anymore.”

Natasha sighed, setting her cup down. “Come on. You know Steve and Bucky. They’d never…”

“I know they wouldn’t.” Your fingers curled into fists. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Natasha studied you, eyes softer now. “Talk to them, then.”

You nodded. You would. Of course, you would.

But deep down, you were terrified they wouldn’t see it, because they never seemed to see you anymore, ever since Cassidy came.

At first, it was small things.

A conversation cut short because Cassidy had a question. A training session where she suddenly needed Bucky to correct her stance, his hands on her wrists, her waist. A mission debrief where she sat beside Steve, too close, her voice too soft.

Then the canceled plans started.

“I’m sorry, Doll, but we promised we’d show Cassidy the training simulations today.”

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. I swear.”

“We’ll take you out tomorrow, okay?”

Tomorrow never came.

And suddenly, your nights felt emptier. You’d wake up reaching for them, only to find cold sheets where they should have been. You weren’t sure what hurt more.

The loneliness or the fact that they didn’t even realize you were lonely.

They were still yours, weren’t they?

Then why did it feel like you were losing them?

It had been days, days since you had a proper conversation with either of them. Days since they held you like they used to. The only time you got them was at night, in bed.

And yet, there she was again, always there, standing too close to Steve as he poured coffee in the kitchen. Bucky leaned against the counter, smirking at something she said, arms crossed over his chest.

“God, Steve, I still don’t know how you carry that shield around all day.” Cassidy reached out, brushing her fingers over his bicep. “Guess it helps that you’re, like, all muscle.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“What about you, Bucky?” She turned to him, eyes bright. “I mean, that metal arm has to be heavy, right? Can I?”

“Nah, sweetheart, it’s lighter than it looks.” Bucky smirked, flexing his vibranium fingers.

Sweetheart.

Your stomach dropped, that was your name. He called you that. Not her.

Your blood ran cold as Cassidy laughed, playfully nudging Bucky’s arm. Steve smiled, amused. Not once did they notice you standing there. Not once did they feel the air shift, the way your entire world was starting to crumble.

That night, you laid in bed alone. Again.

Because, Steve and Bucky had been in the common room with Cassidy, and you couldn’t take it anymore. So you had left.

You curled into yourself, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the sob from escaping.

They were just being nice. Right?

They didn’t see what you saw. Didn’t feel what you felt. Didn’t see how much it was killing you. Right?

And you were too afraid to ask the question burning inside you, “What if they don’t miss me like I miss them?”

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting all alone in the common room.

The compound was quiet, save for the faint hum of the ventilation system. You sat curled up on the couch in the dark, staring at nothing, arms wrapped around yourself as if that could hold you together. The weight in your chest felt heavier than usual, pressing down, suffocating.

You had spent the entire day alone. Again.

They hadn’t noticed. Again.

The cushion beside you dipped, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was. Natasha.

“You’re doing that thing again…” she murmured.

You blinked. “What thing?”

“Shutting down.”

You inhaled sharply, dropping your gaze to your lap.

Natasha sighed, shifting to face you. “Sweets, talk to me.”

Natasha always called you that name, and her reason was you were the only sweet person in her life.

You shook your head. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Bullshit.” She reached out, squeezing your knee. “I see you, you know. The way you’re fading. The way you barely eat. The way you don’t sleep until you’re too exhausted to fight it anymore.”

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the fabric of your pants.

“They love you, Sweets.” Natasha’s voice was gentle but firm. “This… whatever this is, it’s temporary. They’ll see what’s happening.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “No, they won’t…” Your throat burned as you whispered, “They don’t see me anymore, Nat.”

Silence.

Natasha shifted closer, resting her forearm on the back of the couch. “We survived worse, you and me. Remember?”

You knew where she was leading the conversation, but you didn’t care.

“I wish I could remember.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Natasha frowned. “Remember what?”

You exhaled shakily, gaze unfocused. “How they trained us. How they made us feel nothing.”

Natasha tensed. “Don’t do that,” she warned. “Don’t go there.”

You lifted your head to meet her eyes. “Why not? It would be easier.” Your voice cracked. “I wouldn’t have to feel like this. Wouldn’t have to wake up reaching for them only to remember I don’t exist to them anymore.”

Natasha’s grip tightened on your knee. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Your smile was hollow. “They canceled our date today, Nat. Again. I was supposed to spend the evening with them. Instead, I spent it watching Cassidy laugh at Bucky’s jokes and touch Steve’s arm and…” You sucked in a shaky breath, voice barely above a whisper. “And they let her.”

Natasha’s expression darkened, but she said nothing.

You turned your gaze back to the floor. “I just… I don’t want to feel this anymore.”

She was quiet for a long time before she whispered, “You’re not in the Red Room anymore, Sweets. You have them. You have me.”

You nodded. But the ache in your chest remained, because deep down, you weren’t sure if you still had them at all.

The bed felt massive. You lay curled up on one side, facing away from the door, the covers pulled tightly around you. The scent of Steve and Bucky still lingered on the sheets, but it brought no comfort.

Then the mattress dipped.

First on one side, then the other. Warm bodies slid in beside you, their familiar presence surrounding you.

“Doll?” Steve’s voice was soft, hesitant.

Bucky shifted behind you, his arm resting loosely around your waist. “We’re sorry about earlier, sweetheart.”

Your throat burned.

“We’ll make it up to you,” Steve added quickly. “We’ve got a whole day planned for you tomorrow. Just the three of us. No interruptions, promise.”

Tomorrow.

You closed your eyes.

They had said that last time.

And the time before that.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, willing yourself to stay silent.

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Come on, talk to us, Doll. We know you’re mad.”

Mad.

Was that what they thought this was? Your lips parted, but no words came out. Because what was the point? Tomorrow would come, and it would be the same.

Cassidy would be there.

Steve and Bucky wouldn’t notice.

And you? You would be alone again. A tear slipped down your cheek, but you kept your eyes closed. If you stayed quiet, maybe they wouldn’t hear how badly you were breaking.

Morning passed in a blur.

You moved through training sessions on autopilot, barely speaking, barely feeling. Natasha watched you carefully, her sharp gaze catching every falter, every moment you hesitated before leaving the gym. You knew she wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure if you had it in you to listen.

So you just kept going.

Kept pretending.

Kept waiting for Steve and Bucky to remember.

And then they did. Or so you thought.

“Doll, come on! Movie night’s all set up!”

Bucky’s voice rang through the hall as you made your way toward the common room, a flicker of hope stirring in your chest.

They remembered. They finally remembered.

For the first time in days, your heart didn’t feel so heavy. You ran your fingers through your hair, exhaling softly as you reached the doorway, ready to sink into the warmth of your boys.

And then you saw her.

Cassidy.

Sitting between them.

Again.

Your body locked up, breath catching in your throat. She was curled up comfortably, her legs tucked beneath her as she laughed at something Bucky whispered in her ear. Steve sat relaxed beside her, arm draped over the back of the couch, so damn close, so damn easy, like she belonged there.

Like she belonged with them.

You forced yourself to speak, though your voice barely carried. “What is she doing here?”

Steve turned, smiling at you. That easy, oblivious smile that used to make your heart race.

Now?

It made you feel sick.

“She didn’t know it was just meant to be us,” he said lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And we didn’t wanna be rude, so…”

You didn’t hear the rest, your ears were ringing.

They didn’t want to be rude to her. You stared at them. At her. And then you swallowed down every emotion clawing its way up your throat. “Enjoy the movie.”

That was all you said before turning on your heel and walking away.

They didn’t call after you.

Didn’t chase you.

Didn’t even notice the way your hands were trembling as you pushed open the door.

The tears came before you even reached the elevator, but you didn’t stop walking, didn’t wipe them away, didn’t care if anyone saw.

Not that they would. No one ever did.

You should have gone to your room. You should have buried yourself under the covers and let the ache consume you in silence.

But the walls were closing in too fast.

So instead, you climbed, up the emergency stairwell, up to the roof, where the air was sharp and cold, where the wind bit at your damp cheeks, where no one could see you break.

Your hands gripped the ledge as you sucked in deep, desperate breaths.

They had remembered and it still hadn’t mattered.

A hollow laugh escaped your lips, bitter and broken. You should have known, you should have known it would end up like this.

You closed your eyes, head tilting back as the city lights blurred beneath the weight of your tears.

You had never felt more alone.

By the time you came down from the roof, your tears had dried, but the weight in your chest remained, suffocating and unrelenting.

You stepped into the hallway, head down, steps quick, just wanting to reach your room, just wanting to breathe without feeling like you were drowning.

But the moment you turned the corner, you froze.

Steve.

Bucky.

And her.

They were standing there, talking, laughing.

Cassidy’s hand was on Bucky’s arm, her body tilted toward him in that way she always did, like she was drawn to him. Steve stood beside them, relaxed, like the world wasn’t crumbling around you.

Like they hadn’t just broken your heart a little more.

Their laughter died down when they saw you.

You knew they noticed your red, swollen eyes. Knew they saw the way your shoulders tensed, the way your fists clenched at your sides.

But they didn’t say anything.

Didn’t ask if you were okay.

Didn’t ask where the hell you had gone.

No, Steve just frowned slightly, like he was trying to piece something together. Like you were some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

You didn’t give him the chance, you walked past them without a word, without a glance.

Without acknowledging them at all.

And still, still they didn’t stop you.

The compound doors slammed shut behind you as you ran, your feet pounded against the pavement, muscles burning, lungs heaving, but you didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down, didn’t care where you were going, as long as it was away.

Away from the suffocating silence, away from them, away from her.

You pushed yourself harder, faster, as if you could outrun the pain clawing at your chest, the unbearable ache of being unseen by the two people who were supposed to know you best.

They had always seen you, hadn’t they? Then why did it feel like you were fading? Why did it feel like you were already gone?

You were so lost in your own head, so consumed by the roaring in your ears, that you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you until a firm hand grabbed your arm, yanking you to a stop.

“Enough.”

Natasha.

You blinked at her, breathing hard, vision blurring. But she didn’t let go. Didn’t loosen her grip. She just stared at you, her green eyes filled with something sharp, something dangerous.

Something like determination.

“I let this go on for too long,” she muttered. “That’s on me.”

You swallowed hard, chest still rising and falling in ragged breaths. “Nat…”

“No.” Her voice was steel. “You’re not doing this. You’re not running until your body gives out just because they’re too damn blind to see what’s happening.”

Your throat tightened. “I don’t know what to do...”

She sighed, her hand loosening slightly but not letting go. “Then let me do something.”

Your breath hitched, but you believed in her.

Natasha had always been your anchor, your constant. You had survived hell together. She knew you better than anyone, sometimes even better than Steve and Bucky.

So when she said those words, when she looked at you like that, like she was done watching you suffer, something inside you cracked.

You swallowed hard, voice barely a whisper, “Okay.”

You hadn’t spoken much since that night, since the roof. Since Natasha found you and promised to do something.

You weren’t sure what you had expected, but you hadn’t expected him.

You sat on the rooftop again, legs pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around your knees. The city stretched out before you, endless and glowing, but all you saw was the emptiness.

The way you had been fading, the way they had let you, the way it still hurt.

You exhaled shakily, trying to push it all down, trying to keep yourself from breaking again.

“Bub.”

Your breath caught, your heart stopped, that voice.

Rough. Low. Familiar.

A voice that belonged to only one person.

You turned slowly, the cold air biting at your tear-streaked face and there he was.

Logan.

Your brother.

Standing there, broad and tense, his sharp eyes scanning you with a fury you hadn’t seen in a long time, his jaw clenched.

SNIKT.

The sound of his claws unsheathing was sharp, deadly, cutting through the silence like a blade to the heart.

His eyes darkened, fists trembling, rage radiating from his very being.

“Who?”

It was just one word, just one syllable, but it carried the weight of a storm. You swallowed hard, dropping your gaze.

Logan stepped closer, his boots heavy against the rooftop, his presence overwhelming.

“Who did this to you, Bub?” His voice was lower now, dangerous. “Tell me. I’ll gut ‘em.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Logan...”

“Look at me.”

You did and the moment his eyes met yours, whatever restraint he had left snapped.

“Those sons of bitches!” he snarled, pacing now, breathing ragged. His claws flexed, his shoulders heaved, pure, unfiltered rage pouring from him. “You’re telling me those two idiots, our idiots did this? Made you feel like this?”

You couldn’t answer.

Didn’t have to, because your silence was enough.

Logan let out a rough, guttural growl, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles went white despite the metal already tearing through his skin.

“I’ll kill ‘em.”

“No, you won’t.” Natasha’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unwavering.

You turned just in time to see her step onto the rooftop, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“Why the hell not?” Logan snapped. “They hurt her.”

“I know,” Natasha said evenly. “That’s why she’s leaving.”

Your breath hitched, “What?”

Natasha walked toward you, gaze softening as she reached out and brushed her knuckles against your cheek. “Pack a bag, Sweets. You’re going with Logan.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Logan’s brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re actually letting me take her?”

“She needs to get away from here,” Natasha murmured, eyes never leaving yours. “From them.”

You stared at her, then at Logan, your throat tightening so painfully you thought it might close entirely.

“Tasha…”

“No arguments,” she said softly but firmly. “You’re not okay. And I won’t stand here and watch you disappear.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek.

You felt Logan’s heavy hand settle on your shoulder, grounding you, steadying you.

“C’mon, Bub,” he murmured, voice softer now, almost pleading. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to leave.

But because leaving meant giving up. Leaving meant accepting that they had chosen her, that they had chosen everyone but you.

But maybe... maybe they had already made that choice a long time ago.

You inhaled sharply and nodded.

And this time, you didn’t look back.

Part 2

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lilyflowerkitchen · 1 month ago

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⍟ steve rogers fluff fic recommendations *titles in red are suggestive, smut, or 18+ but smut is not the main focus which is why it's on this list and not the smut list. please respect authors by not interacting if a minor **personal favorites at the moment

one shots (with an occasional two-parter)

losing composure: Losing a bet with Bucky you had to wear a USO girl costume to deliver something to Steve. Steve lost his composure and suddenly things went awkward (@marvelettesassemblenow)

crash closet: steve and avenger/agent reader’s friends teasing the reader by getting her a pillow with steve’s face on it (@ronearoundblindly)

•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈• •┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈• •┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•

series (completed)

red, white, and true: Pepper Potts proposes it's time for Steve to get back in the business of helping people, pursuing the greater good. She pitches he run for President of the United States of America. (@buckets-and-trees)

his fiore: Steve smexy Rogers moves into the neighborhood, and one evening, he catches you sneaking into the building opposite his through the fire escape. He watches curiously, slightly amused and, quite frankly, amazed by you. Guess what he does next? He writes a note, signs it with his middle name, Grant, and slips it under your door. How will you discover that Grant is none other than Captain America? (@mercurial-chuckles)**

•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈• •┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈• •┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•

series (ongoing)

#the marvel shelf #cap books #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff

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espinosaurusrexex · 2 years ago

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Watchful Eyes

CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU

read Bucky's story here

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

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

word count: 10.8k

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

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

“Can you start Monday?”

“I can start Monday.”

“Perfect.”

Holy fuckidy fuck fuck.

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

Holy Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

“I’m serious, Buck.”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just shut up, punk.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t serious.”

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

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

“You’re rich, too, Sam.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew better though.

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was worrisome.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was definitely new.

❁ ❁ ❁

The next week was pure torture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So...?”

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

“Yes, very.”

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

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

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

“I knew it!”

“Nat, I’ll call you later.”

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

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

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

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

Happy one month!

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

Happy one month.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like any other day...

❁ ❁ ❁

Boy, had you never been any more wrong.

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

“What? When?”

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

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

“Amazing! Thank you so much.”

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“You forgot your flowers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I trust you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re very good at this.”

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know if I-“

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

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

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

“Wait. Almost there.”

“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

“Good morning, Sharon.”

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

“What? Until when?”

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

“Do you know what she has?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*smack*

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

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

“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🫵 You cant get enough of this character? Go check out the chatbot I made for him! This way you can explore different endlings, plotlines, or just enjoy his company for a while longer 💕

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eviesaurusrex · 3 years ago

Text

“ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ?” | ᴛ. ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ | ꜱ. ʀᴏɢᴇʀꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Tony Stark x Enhanced Daughter!Reader; Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

summary: The Sokovia Accords are on the table—and her father fully on Team Accords.

word count:

warnings: protective!Steve, angst, swearing, hurt, tears, a bit of fluff in the end

author’s note: I don’t know where this came from. Maybe from a post on my feed, talking about the Accords. And maybe because I rewatched Civil War not too lang ago.

;

“The past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate—but I think we have a solution.”

Ever since Ross had spoken those words and Tony had been awfully quiet in his chair far off the team, something very cold had settled in her body. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that something would go terribly wrong as soon as those pages had hit the glass table in the conference room—the name alone made her nauseous. One look at Wanda and YN had known that the woman felt similar, pushing the booklet over the table, away from her; passing this monstrosity around so that everyone could take a glimpse into a future non of them ever wished for.

Well, except for her father, apparently.

YN knew Tony Stark like the back of her hand, so she immediately knew something was off with him. The suspicion was corroborated as he had lifted his gaze from his hands and the ground, glancing over at her, and he wasn’t able to mask the guilt in his eyes entirely. Not for her, at least. She could read him like no other person in her life, not even Steve, after four years of teamwork and two years into a loving relationship.

Now, she stood in the lounge, Ross long gone, the Accords resting in the hands of her boyfriend, blonde brows deeply furrowed. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and had taken a relatively wide stance right in Steve’s back, gazing over his shoulder and skipping through the paragraphs. YN didn’t need to read every single word to know and understand the overall notion and meaning behind the wording.

She had studied law at Harvard—she still knew her tea, even though her studies seemed as if they were part of another life.

“This is bullshit,” the Stark mumbled under her breath, shaking her head so slightly one could miss the movement entirely. Steve’s super soldier hearing picked up on it anyway, and he hummed in agreement, not turning around and continuing to flip through the many pages of regulations. “This isn’t what we stand for. That’s the opposite,” he added with a low voice so she was the only one who could hear the words. YN sighed and unfolded her arms, taking hold of one of his broad shoulders and gripping onto it as if her life depended on it.

Steve felt the discomfort—the fear—through her touch, so one hand traveled upwards to cover hers with his. He gently squeezed her fingers and could hear how she took a deep breath to slow down her rising heartbeat. But it wouldn’t work as usual, and Steve let the Accords drop to the coffee table to rise from his seat and pull her into his strong, protective hold. He wrapped her in his warmth, pulled the smaller woman into his chest, and leaned his cheek on the crown of her head; closing his eyes at the feeling of her arms locking around his waist.

“I’ll never let them take you,” the blonde whispered into her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead. YN nodded, knowing that he meant every single word, felt protected by him though she could handle herself pretty darn good on her own. At least one thing bestowed upon her by Hydra itself she could use for the good of this world—and to protect herself and the people she loved. “I know,” she whispered back, accepting his soft lips on her own for a quick—but loving nonetheless—kiss before she turned to her father, who sat there without uttering a single word, staring up to the ceiling, a hand covering the rest of his face.

“Will you say anything about this?” YN asked him after letting go of Steve and taking a step in his direction. Tony moved his eyes to her, a dark brow cocked. “I think I made myself clear, don’t you think?” She shook her head and took another step towards him. “Maybe, but I don’t believe you understand this situation in its entirety,” she shot back and ignored the worried glances changed by the rest of the team. Tony rose from his slouching position and rested his forearms on his knees, staring over at her. “Caution, YN,” he warned, and if the usage of her full name weren’t a hint to his decision, his tone would’ve been the key. But she couldn’t let go, not when her freedom was dangling on one loose thread. “I told you what I think about this, about the Accords. We can’t keep going like we used to, can’t run havoc on the planet like we used to, destroying everything in our way.”

YN scoffed, and anger bubbled up in her body. “It’s not like we do it out of spite, Tony.” She could see how he flinched at the offbeat name she called him. YN couldn’t care less at that moment. “We are saving lives when running havoc, as you put it so charmingly. We are not Hydra or any other of these bad boy groups who destroy this planet for fun, who destroy lives out of pure fun and hurt people out of pure fun. We are not them, and we will never be them even though you seemingly think we could be—I could be.” She swallowed thickly, feeling the memories of her capturing trying to push back to the surface, trying to haunt her again during daytime though she had managed to chain them to her nightmares. “Did you ever read this fully? Did you ever think about the wording, just for a second?” Tony started to say something, but YN couldn’t control her anger anymore, the rage too all-consuming in her mind. “If you agree to this, you agree that they can take me and lock me away when I—in their eyes—overstep. No one is controlling them, and no one is telling them what an overstep looks like, not even their precious book over there.” She pointed to the Accords still resting on the coffee table. “Don’t you understand? They can decide that I overstepped, and I’m gone. They can think I’m too dangerous or that they simply fear me, and they can conjure some ridiculous boundary violation up, and I’m at their mercy. Did you ever think about this while making up your mind? Did you ever think about your daughter, Tony?!”

YN knew that she used the exact same words Pepper once screamed into his face at the early stages of their father-daughter-dynamic, right after CPS had dropped her at his front door, and Tony, by far, wasn’t ready to be a father. He had continued to party around the world, leaving his daughter to his assistant, and only returned when she was so sick Pepper had to admit her to the hospital. She had screamed those words in a brightly lit hospital hallway in which Tony finally had a mental breakdown—or breakthrough as he liked to see it—and realized what a shitty father he had been—just like his own.

So, she knew what those words would do to him, but she had to have him understand this situation they were facing now—the situation he would put her in if he continued to think that the Accords were a good thing. But instead, she could see him shut down just as he always did as soon as the emotions inside him became too much or too heavy to bear. He clearly didn’t want to think about the possibility of her being locked away, but he didn’t want to stand against it either.

“Maybe that’s the point, YN. Maybe you are too dangerous for this world,” her father suddenly said the words YN would’ve never thought possible. Her breath caught up in her throat, trying to suffocate her, and the tears, already ready to overflow, escaped her eyes. “Tony!” Natasha whispered, shocked to her very core, and even Rhodey gasped for air.

She desperately tried to suppress the rising sob wanting to escape her mouth while taking a step back, hitting a familiar broad chest, and felt big hands grabbing her shoulders in a steadying but soothing grip. But she couldn’t stay here—not in this room, not in this building, not in his vague proximity.

“Go to hell,” YN spat out and pulled away from Steve’s hold, turning around to leave this goddamn place, not witnessing the horrid realization growing on her father’s paling face.

—

With tear-clouded eyes, YN ripped open the double door of the closet in her room and started to pull every single piece of clothing article from its designated spot on several hangers—ruining her much-needed tidiness in the process of it. Her mind screamed at her to stop being headless and do this task thoughtfully, but she just couldn’t stop herself or her hands from throwing everything on her bed, right next to the duffel bag waiting to be filled again.

At first, she didn’t notice the figure leaning in the door frame. It only dawned on her that she was being watched when her favorite pair of combat boots flew through the air and hit the ground with a deep thudding sound, hitting the dresser, and she had turned around to see how her favorite vase almost fell victim to her headlessness. Steve had caught the delicate item mid-air and put it back in its place before moving his sky-blue eyes back at her, blonde brows furrowed again.

“What are you doing, darlin’?” His voice was as soft as always but was now laced with worry at the picture of her state of mind. YN shrugged while grabbing the last shirts from her closet and brought them to her bed before moving to the dresser right next to her boyfriend. “Leaving,” was the only response she could press out of her lungs and throat, both still constricted by the amount of still unshed tears. She pulled open the drawers one after the other to find all the essentials she needed while finding the courage to utter the next words on her mind. “You don’t have to come with me. I know how much my father means to you, and I’m sure you’ll work through this, but… but I can’t stay here and just watch.” She piled pairs of socks in her arms, followed by her underwear, before dumping everything on the growing pile of clothes, ready to push everything she needed into her bag and leave this place.

“Darlin’,” Steve gently called her, but YN shook her head, not daring to look at him. “You don’t have to feel guilty or bad, Steve. I’m a big girl; I can survive the outside world.” Money was not a problem, after all. She heard his deep, rumbling sigh while she started to put her combat boots into the duffel bag, directly followed by underwear and t-shirts—she even had sneaked one of Steve’s shirts into the pile.

“Would you please look at me, pretty girl?” At the sound of one of his many pet names for her, YN sighed as well and slowly glanced over at him. But her eyes widened at the sight of a fully prepped duffel bag leaning against the door frame and his favorite jacket thrown over his broad shoulders. “What…?” The Stark couldn’t end the question hanging in the air between them. “Did you really think I’d stay here and accept something endangering you?” He now smiled her beloved smile and walked over to her. Steve’s big hands—which always treated her like the most precious possession—cupped her cheeks; his thumb tenderly caressing her cheekbone while his blue eyes observed her face intently. “I would have never let you go alone, darlin’. I promised you something four years ago, and I should be damned if I don’t keep it to the moment of my last breath after I already failed you one time.”

YN let her hands rest on his chest and softly shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered with worried eyes because she knew that Steve would always feel guilty and responsible for her kidnapping by Hydra, even though they both knew that it wasn’t his fault. But Steve only sighed and stepped closer and only stopped as he felt her body gently pressed against his. “I’m following you until the end of the world, and I will always have your back.” She tried to blink the tears out of her eyes but failed. “Even when it means you have to go against governmental orders?” Steve smiled and bent his head down to her. “Even when it means going against governmental orders,” he agreed and kissed her with all the love he had for this woman.

;

It’s short and I’m really not happy with the ending, but I have to get back into the flow and have to distract my mind from the upcoming anxiety inducing things in my life lol. Hope y’all liked it tho. As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!

taglist: @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @nyctophilic0vitnir

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brunchable · 8 months ago

Text

Steve Rogers finally gets drunk.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Funny? and CUTE. STEVE BEING CUTE WHILE DRUNK. Summary: Steve got wrecked by Thor's Asgardian Liquor and now he's stumbling under your balcony, reciting Shakepeare's Romeo and Juliet to you. A/N: I stumbled over a prompt that I have long lost now and this was the fruit.

It was a perfectly quiet night, and you were unwinding on your balcony, half lost in thought, when the unmistakable sound of someone quoting Romeo and Juliet—or at least attempting to—echoed from below.

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn... so—hic—bright!”

Rolling your eyes, you assumed it was some drunk wandering the street. But then, in a voice far louder than necessary, the mystery romantic slurred, “It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night... like a rich jewel in... uh... someone’s ear!”

You sighed, trying to ignore it. But then there was a strange thunk against your temple—a small pebble had just bounced off your head.

“Ow!” you hissed, standing and scanning the area, annoyed—until you spotted Steve Rogers, lurching slightly, down below on the sidewalk.

You watched in amazement as he squinted up at you, attempting to focus and swaying on his feet like a flag in a strong breeze. He seemed to be mentally assembling the pieces of a big plan, his face all determination and zero sense. Another pebble tumbled out of his hand as he wobbled, barely avoiding tripping over his own feet in the process.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” he shouted, looking about as stable as a newborn giraffe on roller skates.

You blinked. “Steve... are you okay?”

Steve flung one arm into the air, as if delivering a grand declaration, nearly toppling backward. “It is the east, and Juliet is the... uhm... Juliet is... Juliet!” He thrust a hand forward, fingers spread wide, as if that added extra meaning. “And you—you—are...”

He paused, visibly struggling, his other hand braced against a streetlamp for support.

“A total mess?” you offered, eyebrows raised.

“A goddess!” he slurred, blinking up at you with the most sincere, lovelorn look you’d ever seen. “A bright angel!” he continued, pulling himself up, trying—and failing—to straighten his posture.

For a moment, he seemed to try and get a grip, but his feet betrayed him, and he ended up doing an awkward spin, arms windmilling, before stabilizing himself.

“Steve, how much have you had to drink?” you asked, starting to laugh despite yourself.

“Only... one cup,” he replied, attempting to measure out what he must’ve thought was a “tiny” amount with his fingers. But the gap between his thumb and forefinger was about the size of a baseball. “Well... one Asgardian... goblet.” He grinned up at you, eyes bright. “A small one!”

You tried to bite back a laugh as Steve clasped his hands over his heart, gazing up at you with tragic romance. “Deny thy father and refuse thy—thy name!” He paused, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. “Wait... did I—did I skip a part?”

“Just a few lines,” you teased. “You also hit me with a rock.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, frowning. He bent down, swayed, and then picked up a handful of pebbles. “Doth my lady forgive me?”

“Steve, don’t you dare throw those at me.”

He looked down at the pebbles in his hand, confused. Then, with an exaggerated wink, he tossed them aside like he’d just disposed of a dangerous weapon. “Not a pebble in sight!” He shot you a triumphant, lopsided smile.

“And why art thou—no, wait—why are you out here, Juliet?”

“I live here, Steve,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. “You’re the one making a scene.”

But Steve only clasped his heart, looking utterly enchanted. “Oh, fair maiden... would you come down and—uh, wait... no. Would you let down your hair?” He stopped, perplexed. “No, wait, that’s... that’s Rapunzel.” He scratched his head, lost. “Same thing, right?”

With a sigh, you leaned over the balcony railing, looking down at him with a smirk. “Steve, you should probably get home before you accidentally wander into traffic or—”

But he suddenly looked up at you with the most determined expression you’d ever seen, his eyes glassy but oddly focused.

“Doth thou love me?” he cried, one hand raised in a fist of drunken valor. “Say it true, or I shall be...” he paused, struggling, “...a total disaster!”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Steve Rogers, get your tipsy Shakespearean self home!”

He beamed up at you, his goofy grin full of pure, unfiltered adoration. “Parting is such sweet... uh...” he faltered. “...sorrow?”

Steve, swaying dramatically, looked up at you with a sudden, steely determination that only a man in his state could manage. “If thou shall not come down… then I… I shall climb up!” He pointed to the fire escape, his face alight with misguided heroism.

“Steve, please don’t—”

But it was too late. He grabbed the bottom rung with a graceless, lurching motion, grinning up at you with sheer triumph. “I’m coming, my fair maiden!”

With all the poise of a baby deer, he hoisted himself up, grunting as he fumbled his way onto the next step. Each rung seemed to be a new, Herculean task as he struggled to stay upright, clutching the railings like his life depended on it. His foot slipped once, making him lurch sideways, but he shot you a reassuring thumbs-up, completely oblivious to the danger.

“Steve! You’re gonna hurt yourself! Seriously, get down!” you called, half horrified, half laughing.

“Fear not, my lady!” he slurred, clinging to the railing and taking a very, very slow step up. “I am... coming for you!”

As he ascended, he attempted another line from the play, fumbling it badly. “Uh… But soft! What... yonder... light and window... um... something?” He shot you a sheepish grin. “Hold on... almost... got it.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wobbling and mumbling fragments of Shakespeare, he reached your level on the fire escape. He extended a hand dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process, and declared, “I have arrived!”

You laughed, hands on your hips as he wobbled in front of you. “Steve, that was a lot more ‘Romeo in need of a medic’ than ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ You’re absolutely out of it.”

He blinked, swaying as he tried to focus on you. “I came for thee,” he said proudly, managing to stand up straight—though his grip on the railing suggested it was doing most of the work.

Steve, still gripping the railing for dear life, looked at you with a mischievous glint in his glassy eyes.

“Fair Juliet… couldst thou… come a bit closer?” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers invitingly, his face lit with pure, drunken delight. “I have something… uh… very important to tell thee.”

You arched a skeptical brow. “Steve, I’m pretty sure you can say it from there.”

He squinted, trying to look tragic but only succeeding in looking adorably pouty. “Nay… ‘tis… a secret of the heart,” he slurred, placing a hand over his chest with a lopsided grin. “I must whisper it… so only thou can hear it.”

Rolling your eyes but grinning despite yourself, you leaned a little closer, watching as his gaze flicked from your face to your lips.

“Alright, Romeo, what’s this ‘secret of the heart?’” you asked, half-expecting him to spout more mangled Shakespeare.

But instead, as soon as you were close enough, Steve leaned forward, his hand sliding around the back of your neck, and he pressed his lips to yours in a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss from across the railing.

Caught off guard, you froze, feeling the warmth of his mouth against yours. Then, with a laugh bubbling up, you pulled back slightly, blinking in shock as he gave you a pleased, slightly dazed smile.

“There it is,” he whispered, eyes twinkling. “My secret… is that thou art… perfect.” His gaze softened, and he gave a dopey smile. “And... very kissable.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Alright, Romeo. That was smooth—but I think it’s time to get you inside before you ‘heroically’ declare your love to the whole neighborhood.”

He grinned, still clutching the railing, looking like he’d just conquered the world. “Only for thee,” he slurred, leaning into your touch as you helped him down, his expression dreamy. “Only... ever for thee.”

Just as you were helping Steve down from the fire escape, a voice floated up from the street below.

“Steve! Where the hell are you?” It was Bucky, sounding frustrated and more than a little exasperated. You could see him pacing the sidewalk, looking around like he was on some kind of ridiculous rescue mission.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he pressed a finger to his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at you.

“Shhh!” he whispered, grinning like a kid playing hide-and-seek. His attempt at silence was immediately betrayed by a giggle that escaped his mouth, and he put both hands over his lips, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Steve, I know you’re around here somewhere! Get down here before you fall off something,” Bucky called out, still searching.

Steve, in a fit of tipsy brilliance, looked at you with a conspiratorial smirk and pointed toward your open window beside the balcony. Without a word, he started squeezing himself through, contorting like he thought he could make himself invisible in the process.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you whispered, half-laughing, as he awkwardly wedged his shoulders into the window, one leg hanging out, struggling like he was trying to sneak into a bank vault. He gestured wildly for you to help, but his clumsy movement only made him even more noticeable.

He leaned forward, eyes wide, and whispered, “Shhh! The enemy approaches!” He stifled another giggle, clearly thinking this was the funniest thing in the world.

Just then, Bucky looked up, and Steve flailed dramatically, accidentally bumping his head against the window frame with a muted “ow,” then snorted, laughing harder. He pressed his finger over his mouth again, hushing you through breathy laughter.

“What the…” Bucky stared, his gaze following Steve’s ridiculous pose as he tried to disappear through your window, half-in and half-out, his other leg kicking as he tried to haul himself through.

“Hey!” Bucky called, hands on his hips. “Rogers, get down here. Right now.”

Steve froze, peeking over the window frame like a deer caught in headlights, then gave you a pleading look, as if you were his partner in crime.

“Shh! The man downstairs… he cannot know I’m here,” Steve slurred dramatically, squinting as if Bucky were some kind of Shakespearean villain.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“Steve, you’re on the fire escape, not a secret lair. Get down before you fall off and end up in the hospital.”

Steve waved a dismissive hand, a drowsy, lopsided grin on his face. “I’m in safe hands, Bucky! I have my fair maiden to protect me,” he announced proudly, glancing at you with such conviction that you had to stifle your laughter again.

Bucky groaned, his exasperation palpable as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, you’ve got one minute to say goodbye to your ‘fair maiden,’ then you’re coming with me,” he called, crossing his arms.

Steve turned back to you with a goofy grin, still wedged halfway through the window.

“Didst thou hear that?” he whispered in a loud stage voice, pointing at Bucky. “The villain gives us but one more minute. But it shall be a glorious minute!”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him gently. “Alright, Romeo. Time to head home.”

With one last dramatic sigh, he extracted himself from your window, blew you a clumsy, theatrical kiss, and began his wobbly descent down the fire escape. As Bucky grabbed Steve by the shoulder, trying to steer him down the street, Steve spun around, clutching Bucky’s arm like he was clinging to the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.

“Unhand me, Mercutio!” Steve cried, throwing his other arm up with all the grandeur of a Shakespearean actor. “Thou art but a hindrance to my love! Dost thou not know I’m with Juliet?”

Bucky froze, staring at Steve in complete disbelief. “What did you just call me?” His expression was halfway between horrified and annoyed, eyebrows knitted in utter confusion.

Steve pulled himself up, looking deeply wounded, his hand over his heart.

“Mercutio!” he slurred dramatically, pointing a shaky finger at Bucky. “You are the friend that doth betray me! I shall not be parted from my love!”

Bucky blinked, visibly trying to process this. “Mercutio? Steve, what the—” He looked up at you, helplessly gesturing at Steve. “I’m Mercutio now?”

Steve waved a dismissive hand. “Alas, yes, for you wouldst steal me away from my Juliet,” he said, glaring with the most intense puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Steve, I’m not Mercutio,” Bucky groaned, looking over at you as if hoping you could talk some sense into him. “You are absolutely out of your mind.”

But Steve seemed lost in his own world. He placed a hand over his heart, gazing longingly up at you again.

“Juliet,” he called to you, his voice full of melodrama. “Mercutio hath come to tear us asunder.”

Bucky’s face scrunched up in pure irritation. “Steve, I’m trying to get you home before you fall flat on your face. You’re gonna thank me in the morning.”

Steve shook his head, looking at Bucky like he was the ultimate betrayer. “Mercutio… thou art a traitor,” he declared, voice wobbling with fake tragedy.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I swear, if you call me Mercutio one more time—”

“Mercutio!” Steve interrupted, leaning against him dramatically. “Wouldst thou poison my love? Dost thou come between us to ruin the most beautiful thing?”

Bucky let out a defeated sigh, looking over at you with an expression that screamed, Help me. “Your ‘Mercutio’ is about to drag you home, Rogers.”

But Steve just shook his head again, mumbling about “betrayal” and “unhand me, knave,” as Bucky steered him away, calling one last time over his shoulder to you, “Fear not, Juliet! I shall return! Mercutio’s treachery shall not prevail!” You stifled a laugh as Bucky, looking thoroughly done with it all, muttered to himself, “Mercutio… unbelievable.” He gave you one final, apologetic look as Steve continued to mumble protests about “Mercutio’s interference,” until they finally disappeared down the street, Bucky still muttering, “I’m not Mercutio.” Tags: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strawberrybisou @alyana-luvs-u

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