Steve Rogers Fanfiction - Blog Posts

Juno | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader (SMUT😉)

A/N: Wow another Steve Rogers fic. Anyways this one is smut. Also this is my first ever attempt at writing smut so it's going to be really bad. So enjoy!

Title and plot (loosely) based off of Sabrina Carpenter's new song (stream the album btw or else):

Juno

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: I might let you make me Juno 😉

Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex

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“And then he said to me, ‘How about you change your dentures!’” A chorus of laughter erupted from around the table. Among the voices and chuckles was Y/N, sporting a fake laugh to hide the pain he was currently feeling on the inside. He so badly wanted to leave, thinking that laughing at whatever he was presented with would help pass the night. 

Y/N was an Avenger. He loved his job – no doubt. He loved being able to help people on a worldwide scale, and the overall idea of doing something that mattered. However, what Y/N didn’t realize was that the fine print of the Avenger’s contract included him forcefully being present at the annual U.S. Defence Symposium Convention, where diplomats and political leaders from around the globe gathered to discuss foreign affairs. While he never had to speak during these conventions, Y/N’s presence was required for Avengers PR reasons. Why it couldn’t be anyone else was a question he’d never find the answer to. Luckily for him, he wasn’t alone this year. Even better for him, he was with his lovely boyfriend.

Y/N glanced towards Steve at the other side of the circular table. Steve was already looking at him, wearing a similar bored expression. The two shared tired smiles. A positive that came with being Captain America’s boyfriend was intimate looks like these, shared across dinner tables, conference meetings, and other situations where they couldn’t be close. Looks and glances that made Y/N feel warm inside. No one else knew, even the team, of their clandestine relationship, afraid of the uproar that would come if it were to become public. The controversy that came with two of the United States’ defensive powerhouses dating – especially considering both were men – was something Y/N chose to think about rarely.

The senator continued his comedically-not-funny joke, and Y/N felt grey hairs growing. He knew he had to leave or he would’ve broken down in tears. As a guest speaker was about to be introduced, Y/N politely excused himself from the table and glanced towards Steve, his eyes already on him. He gave him a wink – a not-so-discrete signal they both came up with before arriving, loosely meaning, ‘I can’t handle this anymore and I need to get the fuck out of here – meet me in the bathroom.’ 

As he walked through the halls of the large venue, he marvelled at the grandness of the building where the convention was held. While he despised being there, he had to admit the building was architecturally and aesthetically pleasing, being more on the higher end of NYC establishments with its Art Deco-inspired assets. When Y/N made it to the bathroom, he checked beneath the stalls to see if anyone was present before letting out a loud groan. He knew he had to talk to Nick Fury later to discuss his supposedly mandatory attendance at the energy-draining convention. He couldn’t stand another second here. Leaning against the sink, he waited for Steve to arrive.

After about two minutes, the door to the washroom opened, and Y/N was met with Steve's presence. Steve raised his eyebrows, silently asking if anyone else was there, to which Y/N responded by shaking his head. “What did it, huh?” Steve asked, closing the door behind him.

“That geriatric senator, obviously – Senator Shortdick,” Y/N groaned. The senator’s name was actually in fact Dick – something Y/N’s immaturity found astoundingly hilarious. “His very long extended joke about…I don’t even know actually.” 

“He was talking about his son, Y/N,” Steve said, walking closer to the other man. “It was a nice story – very wholesome.” When Steve reached Y/N, he wrapped his arms around his waist before giving him a small peck. 

Y/N’s eyes met Steve’s, and they both gave each other reassuring smiles. They both desperately wanted to leave, but were aware they legally couldn’t.

“I don’t think I can handle this anymore, Steve,” Y/N’s voice whined, laying his head on Steve’s muscular chest, and caressing his sides. “I need something exciting.” Suddenly, as if he had an epiphany, Y/N conjured a devious idea to pass the time. Looking up at Steve, he gave him a half-lidded look, an action he did in jest whenever he wanted something from him. “We should fuck right now.” 

Steve only responded with a bewildered look, slowly shaking his head and reprimanding Y/N’s unsavoury suggestion. “We can’t, Y/N,” he said. “It’s too risky. Not to mention, distasteful – we’re in public.” Steve was the more rational person in their relationship, often taking Y/N’s outrageous ideas to heed.

“Why not, Stevie?” Y/N’s voice feigned softness and seductivity. “Isn’t it exciting,” he started, arms sliding up Steve’s clothed bicep. “The idea of getting caught here.” 

“Not really-.” Before Steve could continue, Y/N connected their lips. It started soft – short and sweet – before gradually getting more intense and feverish. Steve pushed the small of Y/N’s back closer, deepening the touch of their lips. Steve wanted Y/N badly, and Y/N was aware of that. He always knew that he had some type of figurative spell over Steve, causing him to be more acquiescent towards him than any other member of the team – even before they started dating. Steve was entirely bewitched by Y/N.

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The two eventually locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls, lips already connected and moving together hungrily. Both prayed no toilet would come beckoning some diplomat’s bladder amidst their carnal moment together. As they continued face-fucking each other, Y/N trailed his hands down towards Steve’s pantsuit. He palmed Steve’s already present bulge, rubbing it with the soles of his hand and causing a quiet whimper to leave Steve’s mouth. At hearing Steve’s sultry noise, Y/N felt his cock growing harder and heavier.

Y/N broke their lips’ ravenous movement and began unbuttoning Steve’s tux. “I saw you practically ogling me in there.” He bit one of Steve’s sensitive spots on his neck, eliciting a low groan from his throat. “It’s like you were begging to fuck me with your fuck-me eyes.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve panted in response. 

“Stay oblivious then, Stevie.” Y/N slipped Steve’s suit off, revealing his muscled buff chest. Not even a second later, Y/N’s mouth began trailing down Steve’s torso. He peppered kisses all over Steve’s chest, going further and further down until he was on his knees. Y/N came face-to-face with Steve’s growing bulge. He salivated, thinking about taking Steve’s entire cock in one go – the idea of hearing Steve’s whimpers made his dick even firmer.

Steve’s gaze was locked on Y/N. His eyes were half-closed, face flushed with both lust and pleasure. Y/N then unbuttoned Steve’s pants before taking them off which revealed Steve’s undergarments. Without sparing another moment, Y/N yanked Steve’s boxers off. Steve’s cock, upon being unclothed, sprung upwards and ached in the cold bathroom air. It begged for attention that Y/N’s mouth was more than willing to give. A slight droplet of precum was already at the slit which made Y/N even more aroused. Not wanting Steve to finish quickly (as if that is even a problem with his serum-induced stamina), Y/N started slow. He gave Steve’s shaft one long lick at the base, relishing the semi-salty taste. Y/N continued licking, throwing occasional glances towards Steve and how he was reacting. The quiet whimpering coming out of Steve’s mouth was evident he wanted – needed more. “Just please take it all, Y/N,” he quietly whined.

Y/N chuckled. He decided Steve had been good tonight and, sparing him from further punishment, took his entire cock in his mouth. A loud moan erupted from Steve to which he quickly clamped his hand over his mouth to silence. Y/N had to adjust to Steve’s size for a moment before doing anything further. Despite having done this several times, Y/N always thought Steve’s dick was maybe too big for him. This wasn’t that much of a problem for him as while he did struggle in throating it, it did make his ass feel good. And very sore afterwards. After a brief moment, Y/N began to slowly move his head up and down Steve’s cock. Steve struggled to quiet down his noises of pleasure as much as Y/N struggled trying not to choke. With each movement of Y/N’s head, Steve was hitting the back of his throat which sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. Steve, however, wanted much more.

To Y/N’s shock, Steve bundled his hands in his H/C locks and shoved him further down his throat. Y/N’s eyes went wide, gagging noises coming from his clogged mouth. Before Y/N could steady himself, Steve began ramming his throat at a rapid speed, his attempt to quiet himself vanishing as he prioritized quickly getting off with Y/N’s mouth. As Steve continued at his pace, he let out breathy moans that were amplified and reverbed by the bathroom’s walls. While Steve was in pure bliss at his cock being serviced, Y/N was not able to cope with the sudden change. His hands were placed on both of Steve’s thighs, trying to steady himself. Tears pricked near the corner of his eyes as his entire buccal cavity and throat continued being ransacked by Steve’s length. Each time Steve’s cock hit the rear of his throat, Steve shuddered and Y/N gagged loudly. As Steve began nearing his climax, he began to go even quicker than his initial speed, causing Y/N’s tears to freefall down his cheeks. With one loud grunt and a sloppy thrust, Steve came down Y/N’s throat. As Y/N felt the warm and salty fluid trail down his throat, Steve’s breaths became more shallow.

Steve leaned against the stall’s door, and a slick ‘pop’ sounded as he took his cock out of Y/N’s mouth. He was still recovering from his orgasm as Y/N quickly got up from his knees and roughly pushed his chest. “Dude!’ Y/N half-yelled. “What the fuck was that? You nearly killed me!”

Steve staggered slightly at Y/N’s hit. He looked at Y/N with a confused expression that quickly vanished upon seeing his tear-stained cheeks. An apologetic look promptly dawned. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine it’s just,” Y/N said while wiping his face, “you have to warn me first before you do that.” 

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Steve did look remorseful. His face looked as if he had accidentally kicked a dog. “We should probably stop now.”

Y/N gave looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” He pointed sternly towards Steve, his voice coming out furious with a tinge of playfulness. “The only apology I’ll accept now is if you fuck me right here.”

“But, Y/N, I don’t have the…” Steve’s voice trailed off.

“The what, Steve?”

“You know,” Steve said, face slightly pink. “The wet thing and the rubber thing?”

An actual genuine look of bewilderment made its way onto Y/N’s face. “You mean condoms and lube?” Steve nodded shyly and Y/N began to laugh. “Steve, you just pounded my face in. Don’t give me any shit about you being too coy to say the words ‘condom’ and ‘lube’.” He then glanced down towards Steve’s penis which was already erect again. “Plus, your thing,” he continued, mocking Steve’s mannerisms, “still looks pretty wet from my spit. And as far as I remember, none of us have any diseases.” Y/N quickly looked towards Steve. “Right?” Steve nodded his head quickly, still too embarrassed to respond. Before Steve could do anything further, Y/N took his pants off alongside his underwear. “You’re already hard again, Steve. What are you gonna do 'bout it?”

Y/N’s teasing tone evoked Steve’s earlier confidence, leading to him hoisting Y/N around his waist, a quick yelp coming out of Y/N at the sudden movement. Before Y/N could say anything, Steve hastily prevented him by connecting their lips. Their tongues quickly tangled together, saliva combining and becoming indistinguishable from one another. “Steve, just put it in already, God.” Y/N’s voice came out breathy and unstable. Steve obeyed quicker than usual, seemingly eager to come a second time that night. Grabbing his cock with one hand and supporting Y/N with the other, he angled it towards Y/N's gaping hole. Without wasting any more time, Steve promptly thrust the entirety of his length inside of Y/N. A filthy ludicrous whine came from Y/N’s throat. His prostate was already being reached by Steve’s tip, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He was euphoric and as Steve started moving, his speed matching that of earlier, Y/N felt like he ascended. 

Steve was usually gentle whenever they had sex, but he decided to spare no mercy tonight. His thrusts were aggressive, leaving Y/N unable to handle the surplus of pleasure he was feeling. With each graze felt by his prostate, he was sent further into the heavenly bliss he felt. “H-have you seen that one movie,” Y/N said in between heavy pants. “Juno?” He knew it was a stupid question, both in the situation he asked it in, and how he knew Steve had barely seen anything made in the 21st century.

Steve continued thrusting into Y/N, the sound of their skin slapping reverberating around the room. “No – fuck,” Steve’s voice came out breathless. “What is that?” His face was contorting into different variations of lewd expressions, making Y/N’s hard-on even stiffer. It was rare to see the Captain America in such a vulnerable state, and Y/N savoured the fact he was the only person who was able to see him like this. 

The pleasure Y/N felt inside of him was indescribable. Their fucking had never reached this level of catharsis. “Nothing – it doesn’t matter. Just keep going, Steve…please…” Y/N saw the little dribble of precum dripping from his cock. He was close. And Y/N knew Steve was too from how his pounds started becoming sloppier, and how his hands gripped his ass tighter. Their lips found each other again, and their tongues connected. Steve swallowed all of Y/N’s whimpers, biting his lower lip to prevent any would-be passersby from hearing his erotic gasps for air. 

“I’m gonna come, Y/N,” Steve breathlessly spoke. His pacing started to decline, and his entire body trembled. 

As Steve was about to endure another orgasm, Y/N saw him about to pull out. Suddenly, he protested with a hoarse sigh, “No, Steve, just finish inside me – it’s fine.” Steve nodded his head silently, not needing to be told twice. Their pants continued syncing together as Steve rode out his climax. Another load of his hot white cream exited him and filled Y/N to the brim. Shortly after Steve finished, Y/N felt his climax coming in. Steve continued floppily thrusting to aid in his release, soon releasing in thick ribbons that covered his and Steve’s chests. 

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Steve gently collapsed both of their bodies on the ground. The pair were in a state of exhausted pleasure, their breaths still deep and frequent. It stayed this way for a few minutes – Steve and Y/N basking in the decline of their orgasms in a comfortable silence. Y/N glanced down towards his ass, a tad icked out by Steve’s jizz pouring out of him. “It’s kind of gross isn’t it,” he said to Steve. 

Steve was broken out of his euphoric trance upon hearing Y/N’s voice. “What is?” He said, still catching his breath.

“Look,” Y/N signalled to his downward area. “It looks really strange.” The pair’s eyes met and they both erupted in boisterous laughter. 

As they started quieting down from what they considered the funniest thing of that night, Steve suddenly remembered what Y/N asked earlier. “Hey, what was it with that movie you asked me about earlier.”

“Juno?” Y/N responded.

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N said, getting uncharacteristically shy. “I just thought…it’d be nice if we have kids one day.” Y/N then realized what he said and began doubling down. “I mean, that is if you want any with me at all – children I mean. A family.”

Steve didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled at Y/N, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. Y/N responded by giving him a meek smile. They both were met with another silence, their love-laced gazes filling each other with a comforting warmth. 

“How are we gonna get out of here, Steve?” Y/N’s voice came out softly, too absorbed in the moment to genuinely care about where they were.

“Now that is the predicament, isn’t it?” Steve said, reciprocating Y/N’s blissful voice.

Fortunately, it was evident that luck was on their side that night as no one had entered the bathroom at any point in their love-making.

FIN

A/N: My Google searches are legit “Synonyms for ‘cock’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms for ‘moaning’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms of ‘cum’ in fanfiction”, and “How to write smut properly.” Anyways, hope you enjoyed whatever that mess was!

The Love Letter | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader

A/N: Another Steve Rogers fanfic because he is a cutie. This one is way shorter than my first fic and not the best writing I've done admittedly. Anyways, enjoy!

P.S. Stream Short n' Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter 💋

The Love Letter

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Y/N, too afraid to verbally confess his feelings for Steve, gives him a love letter instead

Warnings: Sad

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Natasha stared bewildered at Y/N, aggressively punching the boxing dummy in the team's training room. With each continuous whack, growing strength with each successive hit, the dent in the dummy's torso grew larger. Natasha observed that he only acted this vehemently if something was bothering him. The last time this occurred was after a botched mission that resulted in numerous accidental deaths and tonnes of paperwork. As Y/N began winding down from his strenuous training, Natasha approached him, already having a slight idea for the cause of his trouble.

“It’s Steve isn’t it?” she abruptly asked. 

Y/N glanced towards her with a questioning look. “I’m sorry?”

“You like him, but you’re too scared to tell him.”

Y/N stared at her, trying to maintain a look that conveyed he was completely unsure as to what she was on about. However, he soon cracked under the pressure of her intense piercing gaze and gave her a resigned look. Sighing, he said, “Was I that obvious?”

"Y/N, we all see the way you ogle him." Y/N's jaw slightly clenched at his obliviousness to his obvious crushing. "The whole team knows, and I wouldn't be surprised if Steve himself did too."

Y/N let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. He always hated Natasha’s cunning observational skills. But he was aware this time his long-term crush was exposed at his fault. “I just don’t know how to tell him. I mean, what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

Natasha lightly placed her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re not going to ruin anything by telling him. There’s nothing wrong with being honest. Plus, there could be the chance he likes you also.”

Y/N’s head shook slightly. “I’m not sure how to tell him without completely embarrassing myself in front of him.”

Natasha’s expression turned deep with thought. Then, the metaphorical light bulb lit up in her head. "Maybe you should write him a letter. That way nothing you’ll say will be misconstrued. It's the most objective way to say your feelings for him, Y/N."

Y/N glanced towards Natasha, unaware if she was serious or saying everything in jest. "Wouldn't it be easier if I sent him a text message?"

Natasha shook her head. "Letters are more romantic. Plus, Steve is old-fashioned. I'm sure he'd appreciate it more than some lacklustre text."

As Natasha left the training grounds, Y/N began thinking deeply about her suggestion. He never imagined telling Steve about his feelings, let alone confessing through a handwritten letter. The worse that could occur, he thought, was that Steve would reject him and the entire trajectory of any friendship they had would completely change beyond recognition. However, the idea of Steve being whisked away by anyone else was enough to fill him with dread. He couldn't have a repeat of his emotions during Steve's brief fling with Sharon Carter. Tear-dampened tissues filled his room the week he heard the news – he reached a new low during that time. After his shower in the gym's adjacent locker room, Y/N began devising what he would say and how exactly he would say it.

Walking back to his room, Y/N made a brief detour to one of Tony's several printers scattered around the compound to grab several sheets of paper. He was already anticipating the inevitable drafts that would end up in his garbage bin. As he sat on his desk, cracking his knuckles before putting pen to paper, he hoped whatever monstrosity he would conjure would convey his feelings in a way that Steve would fully reciprocate them.

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After three hours and several tossed crumpled balls of paper in his garbage, Y/N finally created what he thought was the best thing he had ever written. Skimming through it again, he started thinking otherwise and that it was actually really bad. The letter read:

Steve,

I've been thinking a lot lately, and I finally decided I needed to air it out. Natasha suggested writing you a letter, and honestly, I was hesitant at first. But the more I considered it, I realised it was the only suitable option for this situation. I know you're not the type for overly grand gestures, so I'll keep it simple.

Ever since we met, I've been admiring you. Not just for the reason that you're Captain America, but also for what I've seen in who you are as a person. Your kindness, bravery, strength, and dedication amongst many more of your qualities are things I've come to deeply respect. Over time, these feelings I felt for you have grown from something more than admiration – something I never expected.

I've tried to hide it, but I'm not sure I can anymore. I like you, Steve. I really like you a lot, as more than a friend. I know you've been through a lot, so I don't want any of this to complicate you any further. I just needed to tell you how I feel. I value the friendship we have, and I don't want this to negatively change that.

I understand if you don't feel the same way. If you'd prefer it, we could both pretend I never wrote you this. But if there is a chance you feel the same, maybe we could both see where this goes. No pressure, no expectations – just honesty.

Y/N

After rereading it for the fifth time, Y/N decided this was the best it would get. If Steve hated it, then so be it. Y/N put the letter in a sleek dark brown envelope from a stationary set he bought earlier from a high-end arts and crafts store. Since it was for Steve, he had splurged on whatever he could in hopes it would convey the seriousness of his feelings.

As Y/N walked towards Steve’s room, a feeling of severe anxiety washed over him, causing him to fidget with the letter between his fingers. The outcomes of the letter-sending were so polar that he wasn’t sure if his feelings were worth the chance. On one hand, Steve would feel the same and both would live happily ever after. On the other, Steve would downright reject him, their friendship would be destroyed, and the awkwardness would find a way to infiltrate its way into the team, getting in the way of their world-saving. 

Steve’s door came into view, and the urge to turn around and leave became stronger for Y/N. Before Y/N could back down, he heard footsteps descending the hallway’s corner. After quickly slipping the letter under the door frame, Y/N ran in the opposite direction. Whatever was to ensue after was up in the hands of whichever deity was out there.

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The team assembled for dinner shortly after Y/N’s letter made it to Steve’s room. As he sat in his designated spot beside Natasha, his hands started becoming clammy, and his head became nauseous with worrying thoughts. Steve has yet to arrive at the table. Coughing lightly, Y/N turned towards Natasha. 

“I did it, Nat.” Y/N quivered softly. 

“Did what, Y/N/N?” She said in between her chewing.

“I sent him the letter. Earlier this evening, I sent him the letter. God, I can’t believe I listened to you.”

Natasha turned her head, eyes wide in disbelief. Before she could respond, Steve walked into the dining room. The team greeted him, including Y/N whose voice wavered slightly upon seeing the man he so recently confessed his feelings for. Steve’s eyes wandered around the table until they stopped on Y/N. The two looked at each other, and Y/N’s stomach churned. He tried to read Steve’s expression, but it was indistinguishable. As his heart pounded, his hands trembled under the table. 

Natasha slightly nudged Y/N with her elbow. “Relax, Y/NN. Just see how he acts.”

Y/N nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. As Steve approached the table, he pulled the chair directly in front of Y/N, sitting down with a small smile. “Hey, everyone,” Steve greeted, his voice soft and supple, smiling brightly at the team. 

Y/N managed to contort a crooked smile in return. “Hi, Steve.” His voice wavered once again and his cheeks blushed. He looked down towards his plate in hopes no one noticed.

As the team continued with their conversation – Bruce and Tony bantering about lab tech, Thor sharing a story about Asgard, and Clint making sarcastic remarks near the table’s end – Y/N kept glancing towards. Steve looked relaxed, but every so often, his eyes would also meet Y/N’s, and Y/N’s stomach would be sent into a spiral of front flips. 

At one point, Steve met Y/N’s gaze and held it for longer than usual. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. He knew at that point that Steve must have read the letter. There was no other reason for the glances they shared with each other, and the slight glint of something in Steve’s eyes. He could already sense the inevitable conversation Steve was about to confront him with in the not-so-distant future.

Dinner continued, and eventually, the team started to disperse. As for Y/N, his heart sank as he remembered it was his turn to wash the dishes today. Today of all days. Even more troubling, Steve had volunteered behind to help with cleaning. Y/N already knew where this was going to lead. With one last glance at Natasha who offered him a reassuring smile, it was just Y/N and Steve left together.

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The kitchen was dead silent as the two men cleared the table, the clinking of dishes and the sound of running water from the sink being the only interruption. Y/N could feel Steve’s presence beside him – comforting and warm, but tonight it felt different. Heavy. He couldn’t conjure the courage to look at him, instead focusing on aggressively rubbing a stubborn stain on one of the plates.

Finally, after what like an eternity, Steve finally broke the silence. “Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a certain softness that made Y/N’s heart beat faster. “About the letter…”

Y/N froze, squeezing the sponge in his hand hard. He knew this was bound to happen, but hearing Steve’s voice mention his letter still made him incredibly nervous. Slowly, he turned towards Steve, ready for whatever he was about to be hit with. “Yeah?” he managed to whisper, his voice barely managing to make it above a whisper.

Steve fully turned towards Y/N, setting down the dish he was currently drying and meeting his eyes. His expression was serious, and his blue eyes were holding a feeling Y/N couldn’t decipher – nervousness, maybe, or regret. “I read it,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that I’m honoured that you trust me enough to share your feelings with me. I really am.”

Y/N’s heart clenched. He felt the impending doom through Steve’s tone. Y/N nodded slowly, attempting to keep his emotions in check. “But…?”

Steve took a deep breath, he turned away briefly before meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “But I don’t feel the same way,” he said, voice firm but soft. “I care about you a lot, Y/N, as a friend. I value our friendship and I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t see you the same way as you see me.”

Y/N’s felt his heart shatter, the pieces were spiralling into a million jagged edges. The pain was worse than anything he experienced. It felt worse than any gunshot or stab wound he ever endured. “I understand,” he said. It was evident he was trying to hold back tears. “I just thought… maybe…”

Steve’s hand hovered above Y/N’s. He hesitated before retracting it, unsure if Y/N wanted to be touched or not. “I really am sorry, Y/N. I don’t want to make this awkward between us. I value our friendship too much for that.”

Y/N could only nod again. His chest swelled with a numbing feeling. He then realised what the glint was in Steve’s eyes. It was pity. “Yeah, no I totally understand,” he muttered. He stared at the soapy water. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid – I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Steve said gently. “It was not stupid at all. You have every right to express your feelings. I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you the answer you were looking for, Y/N.”

Y/N could feel the tears pooling near the ducts of his eyes. The weight of the rejection fully settled on his shoulders. “Yeah well…thank you for being honest. I appreciate it, I guess,” he whispered, turning back to the dishes to hide the tears now streaming down his cheeks. He scrubbed at the plates more force than necessary, trying to channel to pain he was feeling towards his hands. 

Steve hesitated. It was clear he wanted to say more, but he could tell Y/N wanted him to leave. “I really am sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t trust himself to speak again, afraid his voice would hint at the tears leaving his eyes. After a brief moment of silence, he could hear Steve’s footsteps retracting from the kitchen.

When he was sure Steve was gone, Y/N let out a shaky breath before letting his tears fall freely. He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white in an attempt to hold himself together. But it was to no avail. He slid down to the floor, back against the kitchen sink. The pain was too raw to hold in. As he buried his head in his hands, he sobbed and prayed that no one would walk in and see his miserable self.

He was fully prepared for the possibility of rejection. But everything in him was hoping Steve would feel the same. That the future he envisioned for both of them together would become real somehow. The heartache he felt was unbearable, and each breath he took was a struggle as he attempted to calm himself down. Was he not good enough for Steve? Was he not attractive enough? Y/N started internally beating himself, trying to find the reason he wasn’t desirable for the only person he could ever want.    

Minutes passed, maybe hours; Y/N wasn’t sure. Eventually, the tears started slowing down and his breathing became more shallow. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, taking a few shaky breaths before standing up. He knew he had to pick himself up and move on. But for now, Y/N could let himself wallow in his grief. 

As he walked back to his room, he couldn’t help but think if he could ever face Steve without breaking all over again. 

FIN

A/N: Sorry! Hope you enjoyed! Next one will be cute as fuck I didn't enjoy writing this one that much actually it didn't fill me with happy giddy feelings.

Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

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Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully. 

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room. 

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.” 

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.” 

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.” 

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable. 

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

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The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum. 

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s. 

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for  Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

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It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad. 

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.” 

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question. 

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate. 

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height. 

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N  crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor. 

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.     

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead. 

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"  

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did. 

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence."  Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."  

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.   

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much." 

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.   

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.  

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."  

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."  

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer." 

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Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour. 

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements. 

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol.  What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted. 

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

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At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear. 

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated. 

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred. 

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'." 

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-." 

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer." 

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

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After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out." 

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection. 

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?" 

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

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Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight. 

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger. 

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve. 

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen  Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’  

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

What do you think about exhibition kink ? And who do you think would have it, Buck or Steve?

👀

Pairing: Personal trainer/beefy Steve x reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, Steve is 6'4, praise kink, exhibition kink, degradation kink

A/N: As always do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost my works.

Co-owner of the infamous gym, the Brooklyn 107th and part-time boxer Steve has a huge exhibitionism kink.

A few weeks ago, he had the windows of his gym covered with a transparent plastic film that allows for his customers to work out without being seen by people on the street.

At least that's what he told everyone.

Really it's because he loves to fuck you in front of the ceiling to floor glass windows during your personal sessions.

He adored your body the second you stepped into his gym, asking if he could help you get in shape. He never offered personal training sessions until you.

And you were the only one who received his very special attention.

Your training sessions started off tame but the more he touched you, the more he craved you.

Soon your one-on-one sessions began to happen later and later because he wanted to spend time alone with you.

You made him nearly feral every time you worked out together. He couldn't stop thinking about all the filthy things he wanted to do to you.

The first time you softly grunted, the sound nearly sent him over the edge. He spent the entire hour hiding how hard he was.

Steve waited until you were in the parking lot before locking the doors, barely able to control himself before he reached the showers. His hand wrapped around his aching cock as he thought about how soft you felt as he helped you squat.

At night he dreamed about those sexy little grunts you made when you boxed or lifted weights, only in his mind you were making them because of him.

Steve tried to maintain his professionalism until one day he was in the middle of stretching your legs and he saw the wet spot forming on the crotch of your leggings.

His heart raced at the thought of you being as affected as he was.

You couldn't even feel embarrassed because he stared at it, at you with such lust you almost came right there on the yoga mat.

His eyes drifted up to your face and he bit his bottom lip as he gazed at you. Then his lips curled into a wide smirk. "Y'know I really should stretch all of you sweetheart."

Your hands slip, the pristine glass smudged by your sweat.

“God, please Steve, fuck fuck fuck fuck, I can’t.” The glass fogs up from your harsh, frantic pants, the condensation growing with each sob ripped from your throat. “Pleaseplease Steve.”

Steve growls in your ear, the feral sound making you whimper in response, another please falling from your lip.

“You can take it, you’re okay, take it, sweetheart.” Steve grits his teeth, his damp blonde hair plastered to his forehead. He’s never been in such a tight wet pussy, you have to take it because he can’t get enough of you.

You lean forward, pushing your forearms flat on the window, and pull yourself up on your tiptoes. No, you can’t, you can’t take anymore. It’s too good and fuuuck you can’t, you just need-Taking in a deep breath, you cry out in relief when your swollen cunt slides to the tip of his throbbing cock.

Your head lolls back and your pussy clenches down when you see his dark blue eyes glaring at you. Oh please, Steve. You thought you couldn’t get any wetter until you had 6’4 of pure tatted muscles behind you, his deep voice ringing in your ear “you better not run again sweetheart, take this cock like a big girl before I fuck you stupid.“

His wrapped hands grab your waist, his scarred, calloused fingertips dig into the soft dips of your hips, and he drops you back on his cock.

Pleasure bursts through your body so hard and fast, your legs collapse, your hands sliding down the window as you keen. Steve laughs when you wail his name, the thin high cries with each thrust making his cock even harder. One large, thick arm wraps around your waist and he pushes your body into the glass.

Steve’s hip snaps into yours over and over, the salacious sound echoing through the nearly empty gym. He slams his hand on the glass and grabs your chin with the other. Your dazed eyes rake over the busy street. The thin pane of glass is the only thing separating your naked body from the lunchtime rush of people outside.

“Look at them,” he pants in your ear, “wonder if they know what a cockdrunk little slut you are for me. My sweet little slut, so fucking good for me. “

Steve knows you love it when he talks to you like this, making you take every thick inch and praising you for doing so good. Your greedy pussy clamping down on him tighter and tighter with each filthy praise.

He slides his fingers down to your clit and rubs your aching bundle of nerves so softly, a sharp contrast to the way he’s pounding into your cunt.

“Want me to open one of the windows and let them see how good you are, taking my cock like the good fucking girl you are. You want that, sweetheart?”

You feel his deep laughter on your skin when you moan in response, too far gone to form coherent words. You’ll let him fuck you in the middle of the ring before his next match if he keeps doing that. More broken pleases, for him to stop, go deeper, just please Steve. Fuck you, don’t know what you want, only that it’s too much and you want more.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s how you take my cock, so fucking proud of you sweetheart, now let’s-“ Steve places his hand on your back and forces you into an arch and he hits a patch just inside your pussy and you see stars.

The windows rattle when you slap your hands on them, you don’t notice the people turning their heads in your direction, too overwhelmed by the sweltering heat blazing through your belly, the knot fraying and unraveling as you sob.

His name a chant on your tongue as you come hard, so hard it nearly hurts.

“Good girl,” he praises, groaning when your walls flutter around him. “That’s my girl.”

You slump against the cool glass as Steve continues to fuck you, his hips slapping into yours two, three more times before warmth coats your spasming walls. He kisses along the back of your neck, murmuring more praises as he pulls your trembling body from the window.

“Good warm-up sweetheart.” He nips your shoulder, his hands sliding around your belly. “Now it’s time for your cardio.”

༻ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | 6’6” Steve, feral behaviour/feral!steve, nomad!steve, fluff, scientist!reader, gentle giant!steve, soft!steve, size difference, SMUT - minors DNI, size kink, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, sort of animal-like behaviour, mentions of dead parents, specific warnings in each part.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that.

♫ ·ﾟ𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝗧𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗪/𝗖 | 23.9K + 7.1K in blurbs

𝗔/𝗡 | well hello everyone! This is based on my short drabble about Tarzan!Steve, but changed a bit for storyline purposes. In this verse, Sam has always been Captain America and best friends with Bucky. Also, since I felt weird with consent from Steve’s side, there won’t be smut until part 2 where he’ll fully understand what sex is. BUT, there will be an alternative dark!Steve version that’s sort of just pure filth because why not. No gifs/photos belong to me, found bottom ones on Pinterest [1 | 2] all credits go to the original creators. [*=smut] ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

Feel free to send blurb requests or asks about this series! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓!

For blurbs and the alternative dark version since this story is completed: 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 — ​˖◛⁺⑅♡ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: (3/3)

(1/3)

(2/3)*

(3/3)*

Alternative DARK version*

What A World Drabble Masterpost: 1 - 2

Role Reversal: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞 [feral!reader]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒/𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

bubbles

a lil about steve

marking*

typical jungle boy behaviour*

little hand

baby fever?

his mind, body, and soul*

9 kink drabbles* (see more drabbles in the gallery👇)

steve and his adventures with food: 1 — 2 — 3 — 4

steve wants a pet: 1 — 2

letters from steve

winter wonderland

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐘: tags

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: #what a world drabble

Discussions/Drabbles: thots — fluff — dark — dark!reader — angst

All asks — Theories — Art — Ideas — Videos/TikToks — ??

Specific tag drabbles: sex toys* — periods — sex tape*

Tarzan!Steve aka WaW!Steve — Dad!Tarzan!Steve

Spicy Videos

Setting: Jungle

Happy Sinday 😌

Pairing: Biker!Steve x Reader

Warnings: Oral (m receiving), smut, no minors.

A/N: Late sinday drabble.

It’s your hands that he notices first. Soft and warm on his hair-covered thighs. Always so soft. It’s how he knows it’s you. Nothing soft has touched his skin in years. Until you. Those warm, soft palms glide up his legs, over his stomach. He shifts into your touch, ridged curved muscles pushing into your fingertips.

“Please,” the word thick and rough in his throat drifts on his tongue, passing his lips in a coarse whisper. His mind, dull from sleep, barely registers your low hum in response.

Your lips trace over the faint freckles peppered along his sun-kissed skin, creating a map of him that only you’ll ever use. Your guide. A personalized key to unlocking his every weakness. The one right below his ear that makes him shudder when you sink your teeth into it. The one below his collarbone, near his colorful tattoo, makes him grit his teeth, hissing out a warning you’ll gleefully ignore.

But this one.

The one on his lower belly next to the thin vein leading down to his cock.

This one is your favorite.

You trace the pad of your finger around it, following the vein down down down his skin, watching his cock, heavy and long and thick, get bigger and bigger before your eyes. Resting your cheek on his thigh, you wrap your hand around his base, fuck he’s so thick your fingers and thumb aren’t even close to touching each other.

He makes a guttural sound in his throat. Long eyelashes fanning across his face, lips parting.

Please

Your hand stills, eyes flickering up to his face. He’s pulled under again, unable to resist the strong drag of exhaustion lingering in his bones. You want to ease his tired body, make him feel good, and you can’t resist the gravelly request escaping his mouth.

You stroke him, your hand moving up his firm, smooth length, your thumb brushing over the vein leading to his tip. You bring your hand down, pumping him firmly, squeezing him before going back up.

Once.

Please

Twice.

Please

Letting your thumb sweep over his swollen head, his hips jerk. You spread that little drop of precum over him, listening to his breath quicken, sleep-addled words falling unbidden from his mouth, nearly indiscernible.

Please

Taking mercy on him, you move until you’re hovering over him, placing a kiss on his leaking tip, you open your mouth, his taste melting on your tongue as you swallow him.

While your touch is enough to drive him to the brink of awareness, it’s your mouth, hot and wet, that pushes him over. You hollow your cheeks, slowly slowly dragging him out of your mouth. Bright blue eyes snap open, his lips part on a breathy faint moan, large hands grip the sheets. You meet his dazed gaze and draw him back, his thick cock heavy and warm, his vein brushing along your tongue. Pleasure like he never felt spikes through him, scorching heat spreading up his spine. He never knew he could feel so good, so incredible. Darkening stormy blue eyes flutter shut, plump lips go slack and his hands, his large calloused hands, find the back of your head, resting gently, letting you find your pace.

“Fuck yes. Just like that Dove. Please, sweetheart.” He makes another noise in his throat, deep satisfaction and need and lust rolling into one breathy plea. “Don’t stop. You’re doing so good. So fucking good for me.”

It could almost be vulgar, the way you’re taking every inch, every incredibly thick inch into your little mouth, the wet sounds you’re making, the soft gag when you take him deeper and deeper.

But it’s not.

It’s so damn erotic that he has to look away, too afraid of losing control, wanting to keep your tongue on him. He’s not that strong, not when it comes to you, the need to see you pulls his eyes back to your face, and oh fuck he can feel the sultry white-hot pleasure cresting higher, cracking away at his resolve.

He needs one more minute.

One more minute.

Fuckfuckfuck you’re so sweet and pretty, lips stretched around his cock, throat bulging, your little hand softly twisting around the part of him you can’t take down your throat.

Sweat beads along his hairline, thighs trembling, hold on for one more minute, he needs to feel you more than he needs to cum.

One more minute of pure heaven. Please

He’s so greedy for you. Fuck one more-

Steve can’t think. Barely getting enough air into his lungs. Because your eyes flit up to his and you moan.

“Dove you’re so good, so damn perfect,” he groans through gritted teeth, veins in his neck distended, his fingers dig into your scalp as he comes undone. “Shit oh fuck, fuuuck.”

He comes, hard and fast, spilling into your mouth. And he almost comes again, watching you swallow every last drop. Steve reaches for you, a feral grin tipping his lips. “Now it’s my turn--“

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The harsh grating alarm cuts through the air. Steve reluctantly opens his eyes, waiting for the ceiling to come into focus, rays of sunlight peeking through the cracks of his curtains.

“Fuck me,” he spits out, glaring at his stiff erection tenting the sheets slung around his thighs, the remnants of his dream clinging to him.

It felt so real. You felt real.

He could have sworn you were in bed with him. Dragging his hand down his face, he makes a frustrated noise before turning off his alarm. Steve sits up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, he drops his head down. He can’t take another wet dream like this. He’s going to ask you out.

Today.

You have had every piece of him wrapped around your little finger for weeks now. Now it’s time for you to know that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you, little dove.

*****

And his next dream is about him returning the favor 🥴🥴🥴. Steve can't wait to make his dream a reality. But are you ready?

For more Steve/Dove content, click the link!

I Dream Of A Love That Even Time Will Be Still For

Keep my company while I write/work! Send in:

Main Masterlist-Mafia & Biker AUs Neighborly Behavior The only gift he wants The Morning After And then there were none It all belongs to yo

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🕯️🕯️Manifest dodger content 🕯️🕯️

Reblog to charge

Do you think you could write about short sized! Reader working for Bruce banner as a lab assistant and Steve has a total crush on her.

Get A Life

You sat comfortably at your desk, analysing recent data on your computer screen. To an everyday person what would look like a jumbled mix of numbers and symbols to you made perfect sense. 

“Bruceee.”

“Ah-huh.” He responded, eye deep into a telescope.

“The optimal temperature for nuclear reaction is…” 

“100 million Kelvin… depends.”

“Figured.” You grumbled, nibbling on the end of a pen.

He rose from his stool, moving towards your desk and minimising the screen.

“This might sound hypocritical coming from me, but you need to get a social life.”

You re-opened the screen, eyes zoning in on him “This is social.” Gesturing between you both. 

“No this is work.” He minimised the screen again. 

“It’s a hobby.” You re-opened it,  

“That you get paid to do.” He minimised the screen once more.

Before you could continue your game of cat and mouse, a knock at the door caused both your heads to rise.

“Sorry to interrupt I just came to drop off these documents for Y/N.”

Your eyes darted up to the large frame leaning against the door, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he offered a soft smile, holding a thick manilla folder in his hands like it was nothing. 

“Oh yeah, okay, I was just about to go.” Bruce rose, walking past Steve.

Bruce raised his pointer finger at Steve, leaning in close and whispering while you were distracted by the screen in front of you “I…MIT won’t stop calling desperate for her to join so don’t… you know because I will go Hulk on your ass.” 

Steve gave him a respectful nod “I won’t.” 

“Good.” With a slap on the shoulder Bruce made his way out. 

Steve stalked towards you, placing the folder on your desk with a thud.

You skim through the contents only to find blank pages.

“These are all blank?”

“Yes, they are.”

“What… why would you… what?”

Steve’s hand rubbed the back of his head “I just wanted an excuse to come see you.” He smiled at you sheepishly. 

You sighed, rising from your desk making your way to the chemical cupboard with Steve close on your tail.

“I’m in the middle of making universe altering research breakthroughs Steven.” You thumbed through the walls of vials and chemicals.

Steven. Only you called him Steven. Not Rogers. Not Captain. Steven. And while he’d choke out anyone else who called him that besides his mother, he loved hearing his name fall from your lips. 

“Which is why I think you deserved a break.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with me talking breaks around here?”

“Because you work the hardest.” You momentarily paused, turning your head over your shoulder, catching the sincerity on his face. 

“I’m not a superhero.” You shook your head. 

“You are, in a way…” He moved forward coming behind you as you reached upwards, pushing your weight onto your tippy toes to reach the container on the top shelf, your fingertips barely brushing it. Even in heeled boots you couldn’t even reach. 

With a swift motion, he placed his hand on your hip to pull you back slightly, raising his toned arm and grabbing the container effortlessly and handing it to you.

“I can’t even reach the top shelf.” Blush rose to your cheek at the feeling of his body so close to you. 

“Yes, but even superhero need help sometimes and more importantly… lives.”

“I have a life!” You moved out of his reach going back towards your desk. 

“When was the last time you had a beer with us? Or didn’t go into the lab for a day? Or went on a date?” He spat out.

You paused, turning on your heels, eyeing him.

“What do you want?” You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your full chest.

You were annoyed and he could tell. But he was absolutely obsessed with the way you looked in this moment, eyes piercing right into his soul through your glasses, your hair in a claw clip with strands sticking out and falling over your face. The tapping on your boot against the linoleum floor and the way your arms crossed pushed your chest together revealing a small sight of cleavage under your sweater. 

He shouldn’t have found it as sexy as he did. 

“I’d like you to take a break…”

You went to interject him and give him a 1000 reasons why you wouldn’t take a break until he finished…

“So, I can take you on a date.”

Your mouth fell agape but you were quick to recover with a sarcastic chuckle.

“Do you want me to warm up the CAT scan? Seems your brain has turned to mush from being in the ice so long.”

“Y/N please.”

“Steven, I don’t date.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not scientific and it’s not logical, it’s unexplainable nonsense that drives women to insanity.”

He crooked an eyebrow up at you. “I don’t think you could get more insane than you already are if that helps.”

You rubbed your temples turning on your heels to go back to your desk until you felt a strong hang grab your wrist and pull you back into a hard chest. 

“Y/N, I see what you do day in day out for this team, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. But I also see how when you’re focused your eyebrows knot together, how I know which pencils are yours because of the bite marks on ends, how at the end of every day you let your hair fall out and you shake it with your hands, how the sweat drips down your chest and soaks your sports bras in the gym, how when you make a sly comment everyone laughs because you’re funny without realising and I can’t stop looking at you and I won’t but I desperately want to see what’s in your mind behind formulas and data because I know there’s more to you than that so if you would give me the pleasure I really REALLY want to be the social life you so desperately need. I see you, more than you know. And while it may not be mathematical, it makes perfectly calculated sense to me.”

You sucked in your lips, emotions swelling inside of you. His head bowed towards you, foreheads touching. 

“Please.”

You nodded unable to form words as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you in as his lips lightly brushed yours, forcing you to relax in his grip and reciprocate the tender kiss.

“I’ll see you at 7pm - don’t be late.” He gave you final kiss on your forehead, walking out with a beaming smile. 

Leaving you in shock as you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding in and warmth spread throughout your body. 

do you think you may be able to write me an insecure plus size reader with preserum steve?

Prettiest Girl in The World

A/N: Pre-serum Steve makes me think 1940s so I set it in that time but if its not what you wanted let me know and i’ll redo it! I think you’re absolutely gorgeous (and so does Steve hehe) 💕☘️

WARNINGS: Mentions of body dysmorphia, heights, tight spaces, anxiety about size/taking up space, weight

“You excited Princess?” Steve squeezed your hand as you walked into the fair.

Steve had planned the sweetest date night ever, dinner and then a trip to the carnival so you could end your night with a big stuffed Teddy and a mouthful of Cotton Candy.

Being the gentleman, he is he paid for your ticket, hand going to the small of your back, leading you through the gate.

“Stevie, this has been the best date ever!” You squealed, kissing his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark. Blush rose to his cheeks. Truth is, he was just a happy he got to walk around with a girl as as you.

You looked so pretty in your light blue wrap dress with white poka dots. It hugged your curves in all the right places and you had done your hair all cute. The dress was his new favourite thing and all he wanted to do was take a picture so he could remember it forever.

Bucky couldn’t believe it when you showed up next to him. “How’d you land that dime piece?” He’d say while nudging Steve arms. “My endless charm and good looks.” Bucky laughed, slapping his friend on the back encouragingly “No but seriously, how much you pay her?” Steve punched his friend on the arm.

“She works at the arts supplies store I go to. I kept going back every day to see her, buy a single pencil each time and she kinda caught on and asked if I wanted to go to the pictures with her. Nearly passed out with excitement, not before I said yes though.”

And here you two were, hand in hand walking towards the Milk Bottle Toss so Steve could get you the teddy bear he promised you.

“It’s ok if you don’t win honey these games are rigged anyways.” You put your hand on his shoulder as he got ready to throw.

“I promised you that bear so you’re getting the bear.” He said, seriousness in his voiced.

He missed all 3 bottles and almost hit a toddler walking behind you.

“Out of luck, Kid.” Said the old, bearded attendant.

“Another round.” Steve straightened out his jacket, stretching his arms.

“Stevie, baby you don’t have to spend all your money on the bear.”

“Don’t worry.” He put his arm around your waist, squeezing at your love handles a little.

“A kiss for good luck would help though.” He grinned at you sheepishly.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the man’s face in your hand and planting a fat kiss on his lips.

Steve was stunned, his first real kiss. Blush rose to his cheeks and his eyes were wide in amazement.

He took a big gulp, turning to the attendant “I can do this all day.”

The confidence of the kiss led to Steve hitting all 3 bottles with one throw. You jumped in delight, clapping your hands as the attendant handed over the bear. You hugged it tightly, kissing Steve again.

“Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you” You squealed pulling him into a big hug.

“Anything for my girl” he smirked smugly.

“Hey, let’s go on the Ferris Wheel, you can see the fireworks from way up high!” Steve looked at you excitedly.

Your palms started to sweat, but you weren’t afraid of heights. It was the anxiety of the seats. The all too small bench they put you on, whether the metal harness would go over your head and over your stomach. The fear of embarrassment when Steve realises that his chubby girlfriend can’t fit on a seat next to her boyfriend like the other skinny girls. How everyone would look and stare and wonder why a future US Soldier would be seen with a girl like you. Your face went white at the suggestion.

“Hey pretty girl, its ok it aint that high, I’ll hold your hand.” Steve smiled at you, blissfully unaware at your insecurities, not even giving your size a thought, heck all he saw was his beautiful girlfriend in front of him.

You simply nodded and let him take your hand towards the line.

You got to the front of the line, next in tow for the seat. The attendant lifted the rod, letting the couple before you free as they skipped off, you noticed all the space they had on either side of them. How you could never be the same.

You took in a deep shaky breath. “It’s alright, ladies first.” Steve gestured to let you slide in your first, you hit the arm rest and sat with your thighs laid flat, extenuating their mass. He squeezed in next to you, granted he sat happily but the image of the scrawny man squashed in a seat next to a clearly big girl haunted you.

The rod went over your heads, sitting comfortably against your stomach as a small roll formed on top of it. Your belly clearly squashed in.

“I like this bench; means I get to be nice and close to you.” Steve purred in your ear as you started to rise. His hand falling to your thigh, squeezing slightly for comfort.

“You sure I’m not taking too much room?” You looked at him hesitantly.

“Nonsense and why would it matter? The closer I am to you the happier I am.”

“I’m not the skinniest girl at the fair Steve, I don’t know why you even wanted to go out with me.”

“What? Who said something? I’ll kill em.” Anger flashed in his eyes.

“No one said anything but they sure as hell are thinking it.”

“So? Who cares what anyone else thinks. Gosh, I think you’re beautiful Y/N. I always think people are looking and wondering what a beautiful girl like you is doing with some skinny schmuck like me. I mean even Bucky thinks you’re cute.” He looked at you, shaking his head a little.

“You really think I’m beautiful?”

“Not just beautiful, I think you’re the prettiest girl in the world. Besides, I like how you look in that dress, gosh, I like how you look in anything, in the apron at the shop when it gets all tight around your waist giving you those movie star curves, I even think you’d look good in nothing at all.” Steve winked at you, whispering the last line in your ear.

You couldn’t speak at his little speech about you, tears threatened to spill as no one had ever told you you’re beautiful like that.

Steve lifted his arm up over your shoulder “Now, scooch a little closer, I want as much of you as I can get.”

You finally relaxed into Steve’s arms, laying your head on his shoulder as he drew soft circles on your arm. You both looked up at the sky, enjoying the firework display. His mouth coming down to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“My beautiful girl.” He whispered in your ear.

Small sized reader wants to get tied up so she could get fucked hard by her husband, Steve rogers

Roped Up

A/N: Enjoy 💕☘️

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, daddy kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, rough sex, orgasm, P in V, bondage

You watched as Steve cut off the rope holding your Christmas tree together. You didn’t know such a small, mundane movement could turn you on. His veins pulsated as his used the sheers to cut the taunt rope, his tongue sticking out a little as he focused on the task at hand. Catching the loose rope in his hands as it sprung around the tree. You sat on the couch, glass of wine in hand admiring the man in his grey sweater and jeans.

“What you want me to do with these bub?” He held up the long thick ropes in his hand, 4 strands of beige yarn. You got up from your spot, hand falling to his waist and pulling him closer into a kiss. “I have an idea.” You purred into his ear as blush rose to his cheeks.

“What is it honey? Seems you’ve had a bit too much wine baby girl.” He pulled your chin up to him.

“I’m just drunk on you.” You took the ropes from his hands, turning around and making your way up the stairs.

He almost tripped following you up the stairs, quick on your step as you rushed towards your bedroom, giggling at the sudden game of cat and mouse. Until you felt the sudden tackle of Steve behind you onto the bed, falling into a fit of laughing you turned onto your back.

Eye to eye with the gorgeous man. He ran his nose along your jaw, nibbling at the skin on your neck.

“What’s your idea gorgeous girl?”

“Tie me up.” His head peaked up, a quizzically look on his face as he studied your face for a hint of humour. “What?” “Like my wrists and ankles. Tie me up to the bed and then…” You wrapped your arms his neck, bypassing his lips quickly towards his ear “Fuck me.” You bit your lip noticing the sudden darkness of his eyes.

He groaned, grabbing the ropes from beside you.

“Starfish. Now.” You hurried to the top of the bed, lying on your back, still in your baby pink slip. You reached to pull it over your head.

“No. Keep it on.” He growled at you, pulling on your left ankle roughly. He positioned the rope in a circle around your ankle, tightening the strand in a quick motion

“That too tight?” He looked up at you, concern on his face. “Tighter.” You purred at him. He smirked, tightening it harder so it pinched against your skin. You moaned at the feeling of pressure. He anchored it to the golden bed post.

Repeating the action on the other foot. He placed his knee on the bed, moving up towards you, grabbing your hands and cuffing them over your head, fastening them together against the headboard.

Moving down past your lips, you groaned at the lack of kisses. “Stop whining, or I’ll tie your mouth up as well.” You bit your lip as excitement formed between your legs.

Leaving soft, wet kisses against your neck, moving your dress to the side with his face, he cupped your breast in his hand as he placed the nib in his mouth, sucking lightly, grazing his teeth against the sensitive nipple. You moaned at the sudden pressure.

He pulled away, towering over you as his fingertips grazed along your body.

“You’re so petite baby, look at you all helpless and tied up.”

Desperately wanting to rub your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs. You tried to move into his touch, unable to get a few inches off the bed with the tight restraints holding you down. Steve quickly bunched the slip over your hips, exposing your heat to the cool winter air.

He blew hot air onto your core, you squirmed at the contrasting temperatures.

He stood up, slowly pulling his sweater over his head and throwing it across the room. His hands palmed over his thick chest down towards his zipper.

All you could do was watch his taunting strip tease, desperately wanting to run your nails down his chest. Revealing his hard member, he pulled down the final layer of cloth. The cotton that confined his hard, thick cock from your aching hole. Moving his head down towards your now soaking pussy, he gave a soft kiss to your puffy folds. Peaking his tongue out to taste your arousal. He simply couldn’t help himself to tease you, addicted to the taste of you he devoured your sex, vacuuming up your fluid with his mouth.

His head rose, rubbing the glistening sheen on his chin with the back of his hand.

“You ready baby?” He rubbed his bright pink head against your messy wet folds.

Even in moments of deep intense pleasure, Steve would still take the time to ensure your comfort. It made you want him more.

“Just fuck me already.” You groaned, desperate to feel him.

He pushed against your tight hole, desperate to feel his length be wrapped up by your velvet walls but also conscious to not hurt you.

“More” you moaned. It was all he needed

Your habit during sex was always to run your hands through his hair and down his back towards his juicy peach of an ass, leaving long red lines. Your instincts want to give in, but you can’t even touch him beyond the feel of his chest against yours as he lays his weight on you.

Mouth finally reaching yours, as his tongue explored, fighting for a sense of control you’d never get as you shoved your tongue deep in his mouth. Moaning at the sensations of his small little patch of hair rubbing over your mound, the feeling of his head grazing your g spot over and over. Trapped between his biceps on either side of your head.

The position while limited, Steve used all his skills to keep a decent pace, hitting your g spot continuously, his hand trailing down to your lower stomach, pushing down on his member that was visibly inside of you.

“That feel good baby? … look at that - you can see me inside of you.” The depth of his thrust only pushing you further towards an orgasm,

“Daddy I’m gonna cum!” Your hands pulled against the tight restraints, desperate to release the coil inside of you.

“Cum baby you earned it.” With that a flush of liquid poured out of you, pushing out his cock in the process.

“I wasn’t finished.” He growled, shoving his cock promptly back into you, increasing his laboured thrusts, chasing his release as he pooled a hot shot of cum into your cervix. His teeth gritted as he held onto your throat for leverage, enjoying the sight of your eyes rolling back into your head as his bulbous tip assaulted your now sensitive insides. Unable to push away from his grip or tear at his back, tears started to form in your eyes as you lay helpless for him to use as he pleased.

He collapsed on top you, breathing into your ear as he came down from his high. Slowly moving upwards, he untied your wrist with a swift pull, your hands immediately falling to his back muscles, pulling him closer to kiss you passionately, desperate to feel him.

He grabbed your hands and softly massaged away the redness from your wrists. Placing soft kisses on the indents from your resistance.

“We are keeping the ropes.” He groaned at you.

You chuckled lightly, kissing his forehead as you finally were able to move freely.

Reader adopts a cat to help her boyfriend Captain America, Steve rogers deal with the trauma and nightmares

Soxs

You were woken up to thrashing beside you in bed. Third night in a row. Sweat formed on Steve’s forehead with his face contorted in terror. You rolled over, placing a light hand on his shoulder, he instantly moved into you.

“Hey hey, honey… it’s just a dream.” You patted his head softly as his eyes slowly blinked open.

He let out a large sigh, sitting up in bed and rubbing his face. 

“Same one?”

“Same one.” He said in a defeated tone.

You rubbed his back soothingly before getting up to get a glass of water from the sink. Handing it to him in bed.

“Thanks honey.” You sat next to him as he took a large gulp, turning back to cuddle into your comforting frame. 

As he gently lulled off to sleep in your arms, large arms wrapped around you. You mind wandered to all the things you could do to help your poor guy.

3 WEEKS LATER

You placed the gold box in front of Steve on the couch. Holes punctured in the top and a shiny red bow in the middle.

“What’s this?” He looked up at you curiously. 

“Open it.” You smiled, taking a spot next to him.

Steve inched forward, slowly taking off the lid and peering inside the box.

“Oh my goodness.” Steve’s eyes widen in joy at the little ball of fluff, sitting pretty. 

The calico kitten let out a small meow, standing on its hind legs and pawing at the walls, desperate to be picked up.

Steve took the small kitten in his large hands, encompassing it carefully as he brought it to his chest. The kitten immediately rubbed his ear against Steve’s jaw, purring at the contact.

“Y/N… you… you didn’t… omg I love him.”

“Her. And you’re welcome. I looked it up and the purr of a cat can help relaxation and healing. So, I thought maybe a couple of kitten kisses will help you sleep through the night.” You beamed at him, your hand going to scratch the little one’s head.

“Her. She’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I can’t believe you’d do that for me.” Tears started to form in the captain’s eyes as his heart burst at the ball of fluff. 

“Think of her as our first baby.” You winked.

“Gotta name her… what do you think she looks like… Esmerelda, Fluffy, Ariel?”

“How about Soxs.” You grabbed the kittens’ paw, admiring the pattern of fur that gave her four perfect little white blocks.

“Soxs. Perfect.” He turned to you, kissing you on the mouth softly.

The two became inseparable with Soxs taking up permanent position sleeping between your heads at night.

The nightmares stopped but Steve got even less sleep after being woken up at 4am to Soxs wanting breakfast.

She'd follow him everywhere, doing little walks between his legs.

The whole of Avengers loved her, with Stark acting like a villain whenever she'd sit in his lap.

Her favourite place to nap was the Avengers meeting table.

Steve would feed her little slices of ham at dinner, dangling it under the table for her to catch.

A/N: Short and sweet. 😘☘️

I have this platonic request where Steve Rogers is In the future, being on the avengers team, and living in stark tower. Before he joined, he found his little sister, reader In the retirement home. He visits two or three times a week. One day, when he returned from a mission with Sam and bucky. Steve received word from Natasha that his sister passed away. The team comforts him

Family Matters

A/N: Aww this was sad but very sweet! Thank you for your request I hope you liked it. 

Steve adjusted his tie in the mirror, picking up the bouquet he made his way to the local retirement centre. 

 “Hey Steve!” Molly, the friendly nurse welcomed the striking superhero at the front desk. 

 “Hey Molly, how’s she doing?” Steve smiled nervously at her as they walked down the hall to your room

 “For a 88 year old pretty good, I’ll leave you two to it.” She smiled, scanning him through the facility and opening the door to the luxurious room.

 “This is the 3rd time this week! Shouldn’t you be saving the world or something.” The elderly woman croaked from her bed. Peering her eyes over her book.

 “It’s good to see you too SJ.” Steve pulled up the chair next to her bed, grabbing her wrinkly hand in his young ones.

 “You look good for someone whose 93.” She smirked at him.

 “Yeah, well you were always the better looking one. Mom would always say she saved her best looks for you.”

 “She did and I didn’t need no serum for it… just lots of sunscreen and luck!”  

Her chuckled at his aging sister. While she may be old, he could still see flashes of her golden locks now camouflaged in a sea of grey locks above her head. They say the eyes don’t age and they were right. Her piercing blue orbs still as bright as the last day he saw them before he went off to war. 

 “How you feeling sis?” His eyes turned to concern.

 “I’m old Steve, I aint supposed to feel like I’m 22.”

 “Yeah, I know, I know but how’s your heart? Are they treating it?”  

“It’s still pumping, they keep trying to feed me this stupid medication.” She waved her hand at the bedside table, peppered with Rx bottles. 

 “You gotta take ‘em SJ.” Steve’s tone turned serious as he scolded his sister.

 “Like hell I do! Aint no way I’m interfering with God’s plan for me.”

 When Steve found out SJ (Sarah Jr) was still alive, his first order of business was moving her out of the crappy government retirement home they shoved old timers in who have no family. He got her a room in the best facility in the country with the best doctors and the best care. 

 Steve sighed at his sister’s stubbornness. Doctors were doing their best but without her taking the meds she didn’t have long. 

 “Well, you’re the only family I’ve got left.” Steve grabbed one of the bottles, shaking out two pills into his hand.

 “So, I need you to take the pills, Sarah.” She looked at her brother with a scowl.

 “Please?” Taking the pills from him she gestured for the water on the bedside table. Swallowing the tablets and then sticking her tongue out at him for good measures. 

 “Good girl.”

 The siblings laughed as they talked about the changing world, family members once here now gone and reminisced on happy childhood memories. 

 The sun had gone down and visiting hours were almost up. Steve got up to leave, grabbing his jacket from the chair. 

 “Alright well I’ll see you next Thursday then.”

 “Hopefully.” She gave him a soft smile. He went to exit the room

 “And Steve?”

 “Yeah sis?”

 “Thank you for all this. It’s very cushy. I’m glad to have you back.”

 Steve walked over back to the bed. Kissing his sister on her forehead. 

 “It’s good to be back.” He smiled. “Love you, see you next week! And take your goddamn pills woman!”

 “Love you too.” She whispered as he left the door. 

Exiting the ship with Bucky, Steve was met with a solemn Natasha, Stark and Bruce at the base of the ship.

 “What’s with the long faces, we came back in one piece didn’t we.” Bucky quipped. 

 “Steve, I… it’s… the retirement home called… It’s SJ...” Natasha choked out, holding back tears.

 Bucky’s face dropped. 

 Steve didn’t even respond, walking straight past all of them towards his car, still in full uniform.

 “Captain.” Stark went to stop him but Bucky put his hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

 “Let him go.”

 Steve raced into the facility, jogging down the halls until he saw a blotchy faced, Molly at his sister’s door. 

 “Steve, I’m so sorry.” 

 She stepped aside to let him into the room.

 The flowers he brought last week now dead, with fallen petals surrounding the base of the vase. 

 Her bed now neatly made with a singular envelope on top.

 He sat on the bed slowly, patting the now pressed white sheets. 

 He picked up the letter.

 “STEVE” written on the outside in his sisters handwriting. 

 Opening it slowly, he read the contents. 

 Steve, I told you I wasn’t going to interfere with God’s plan and our lord has decided it’s my time. While you didn’t age one bit, some of us did and while I know this pains you, life and death must prevail. If momma saw you now, she’d beam with pride, I’ll make sure to tell her how our little Steve has saved humanity time and time again. I don’t have many possessions and no family besides you. So, while I can’t give you anything material to remember me by, you have my eternal gratitude for making sure my last days on earth was some of the happiest of my life. I think the last time I smiled like I did with you was before you left. Tell Bucky, I love him, and he missed out on taking a dime like me out! 

 While it hurts now, I know you will continue making me proud without me there. I will always be your biggest cheerleader.  

 I love you Stevie.

 Yours truly,

Sarah J Rogers. 

 Tears fell onto the paper, as Steve sat there, letting it drop to the ground. He wept at the loss of his sister.

 Hours later, Steve returned to Stark Towers. The AVENGERS gathered around the table in silence, anticipating his arrival. He entered the room, heads raised waiting for him to speak.

 “She’s gone.”

 Immediately, they all rose to comfort him. Surrounding him in a warm hug. 

 “She was the last bit of family I had.” Steve cried out.

 “That’s just not true buddy.” Tony interjected. 

 “We are a family.” Natasha added. 

 Steve gave the group a soft smile through tears, Bucky coming up to him and embracing him in a hug.

 “Hey, hey, it’s ok, I’ve got you.” Comforting him in a hug as Steve fell into his arms. Tears staining the cold shoulder of his metal arm. 

 The rest of the evening was spent sharing memories of her life as the group laughed and cried, reminiscing on the now gone sister. 

 “Gosh, If I only I ever told her how much I liked her.” Bucky groaned.

 “She knew buddy, she knew.” Steve turned his best friend, smiling. 

A fluff where Steve Rogers and his wife reader dropping off their daughter or son to college for the first time. The two cried on how much their child has grown up

Off to College

A/N: Wait.. why am I crying 😭 This is, in my opinion, one of my best fluffs yet. Stop cutting onions guys!

WARNING: Tissues on hand needed.

“She’s too young.” Steve’s hands gripped the steering wheel, eyes focused straight ahead.

  “She’s 18 Steve. That’s the average American age to go off to college.” You replied to your husband. 

“You know I’m right here and can hear you guys, right? Like, theres no soundproofing between the back and the front seats.” Your daughter Sarah pulled out an air pod from her ear, jumping into the conversation.

“Well as I was saying, I don’t care I still think you should of stayed back a year at home.” Steve retorted, looking in the rear-view mirror at his little girl who now resembled that of a young woman about to go off to college.

“May I remind you, DAD, that at 18 you were joining the army to go fight in the second world war. Whereas I’m simply moving across the state.”

“In many ways my daughter going off to college and war are the same thing to me.”

You turned behind you and shared a puzzled look with your daughter. While she mostly resembled you, she had Steve’s piercing blue eyes. 

“How so?” You egged on your husband to elaborate.

“I’m scared shitless about both of them.” He let out a loud sigh.

“Dad… its fine!”

“Repeat to me the rules.”

“Omg not this again.” You put your forehead into your palm, dreading to listen to this speech for the 50th times.

“Dadddd” Sarah whined in the backseat

“So, help me God I will turn this car around, unless you repeat to me the rules, Sarah Mae Rogers.” He turned his head to the backseat, giving her his classic “I’m not playing around” eyes. 

“No drinking. No drugs. No “philandering” with the opposite sex…is that even word?”

“It is.” You and your husband said in unison

“No staying out past 1 and in the case of a national emergency inclusive of war, alien invasion, terrorist attack; extra-terrestrial...

“And domestic... don’t forget that!” He interjected

“…and domestic I am to find immediate shelter, call you to give you my location and wait until the ship arrives to take me to the safe house.” She groaned finishing the spiel.

“Good.” Steve smiled, satisfied with her memorisation of his rules.

You gave your daughter a sympathetic smile, knowing while some rules may get broken you had raised a smart, young woman with her wits about her. 

It’s not that Steve didn’t trust his daughter who he had trained in hand-to-hand combat since the age of 3, it’s just that he knew the world was scary. Sending his only daughter off alone, miles away from home terrified him. He wouldn’t be there to protect his little girl anymore. 

You exited the car to the chaos of move in day at the popular university. Steve insisted he take all the boxes up in one trip. All stacked high above him, he didn’t break a sweat carrying them up the 5 flights of stairs towards her dorm. 

Your daughter bowed her head in embarrassment as she walked 10 steps behind her father, watching as people stopped and stared at the superhero, whispers filled the halls as he gave kind nods to everyone who he walked past. 

You came up beside her,

“Mom everyone is staring why didn’t he just wait in the car!”

“Well neither of us were going to carry the boxes, besides your father is a respected man, he saved humanity that’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”  

“Yeah, I get it but he’s still embarrassing!”

You wrapped your arm around your daughter’s shoulder.

“You know he’s just as nervous as you are right?”

“Why would he be nervous? He’s not the one who has to be known as Captain America’s daughter!”

“No, he doesn’t.” You sighed stopping her in the hall and pulling her off to the side. 

“Do you remember when you were five and you really wanted to jump off the roof into the pool?”

“Yeah...”

“And we said no but you climbed up the ladder anyways and being five you miscalculated the distance between the ledge and the pool.”

“Yeah…”

“Who caught you before you hit the ground?”

“Dad…”

“Right and when you were 10 and you fell over your bike, breaking your arm… who was the first person who came to your aid and took you to the hospital?

“Dad”

“Exactly and when aliens invaded earth 3 years ago what was the first thing your dad did before going to headquarters?”

“He came to school and picked me up.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is from the moment you were in my belly your dad has spent every moment of his life trying to protect you from the world. He realises he’s not going to be right by side anymore… and he’s scared. Scared of losing you.”

“He’s not going to lose my mom, I’m an adult now I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.” 

“I know that, and he knows that. But it doesn’t matter how old or big or strong you get he is always going to care about you. It will always be his number priority to keep you safe and that’s not going to change anytime soon.” You brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Your daughter looked down, biting her lip. 

“Come on let’s go unpack.”

You walked her into her dorm. 

You got to work setting up her room. She put up fairy lights on the wall, while you fluffed the pillows on her bed. Steve assembled all her little bits of furniture.

As a final touch, Steve pulled out a framed photo. Sarah in the middle, between both of your arms. She was only 3 in it, a big smile between her chubby cheeks, her arm up in superhero pose, dressed in her mini captain America shirt. It was his favourite family photo and lived on his bedside table. He looked at it a little, wiping a tear from his eye before he placed it on her bedside table.

“Alright you’re all set! We are going to head out now sweetheart you need anything else?” You chirped.

“Nope, I’m good. Thanks for helping guys.”

You gave your daughter, your final hugs and kisses and exited the room down the hall. 

She studied her room, satisfied with her interior decorating skills. Then suddenly, she noticed the photo that appeared had on her bedside table. She picked it up and held it in her hands. Suddenly, she felt the tears well up in her eyes.

“Wait!” She ran down the hall, just catching you both before you went down the stairs. 

You both looked back to see your daughter running towards you. With a thud she landed against her father’s chest. Wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug. Instantly, Steve hugged her back, pulling her tightly towards him. 

“I love you dad.” She whispered against his chest. 

Steve’s head fell to the top of his little… now big girl’s head. His hand encompassing her head. Kissing her forehead tenderly. “I love you too kiddo. Be safe.”

“I will.” Tears welled up in your eyes watching their embrace. She pulled out of the hug, gesturing towards you. 

“I love you mom.” “I love you too baby.” All 3 of you huddled together in an embrace. Both parents wanting to hold onto their daughter for a little longer. 

You all pulled out and said your now final goodbye. Brushing away tears. 

You held your husband’s hand as you exited the college dorm building.

“She’s too old for me now babe.”

“She’s never going to be too old for her daddy.”

He pulled you into his arm, kissing your forehead. 

Sarah was going to be just fine. And besides, she’ll be home in 2 weeks anyways to get you to do her laundry. 

TAGS: @royalwriteroftheuniverse (girl you're gonna wanna see this!)

what about steve rogers is a virgin and his girlfriend's reader is experienced. She decided to show and take away his virginity.

I'm the Captain Now

A/N: Ok Miss She Hulk. Purr. This one is insanely cute thank you for the request!!

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. Mentions of losing ones virginity (obviously), Unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), soft sex, orgasm, P in V

You filed away your last report on the recent mission, standing up from your desk you straightened out your pencil skirt. Looking in the reflection of the mirrored glass, you slyly undid the top button of your blouse, revealing your scandalous cleavage and a hint of your lace white bra. Ready to go visit Steve in his den. 

Steve was a true gentleman, adorable, kind, charming and while it made you blush how flustered he’d get when you’d pull on his belt slightly or your kisses trailed down his below his jaw he’d always promptly sit up, coaxing you back to a more… modest position. 

You thought maybe because your relationship was taboo, and as a S.H.I.E.L.D spy you weren’t meant to be rendezvousing with America’s sweetheart. But you couldn’t help the tinge your heart felt whenever he’d push you off 

“Now gorgeous save this for another time.” He’d say while rebuttoning your shirt, his sweaty palms struggling with the buttons.

It was endearing to say the least, you figured maybe it’d just been 60 years since he last did it and he was nervous, but you decided tonight was the night you were going to finally get to bask in the glory of America’s ass.

You knocked on the door of his room, opening it up a crack and peaking your head in. 

“Hey Captain.” You let out a soft drawl to let the soldier know you had entered. He was reclined on his bed, doodling in his journal, quickly placing it to the side when he saw your face.

“There’s my gorgeous sweetheart, how you are doing?”

“I’m good.” You joined I’m on the bed, sitting on the edge reclining your arm out to give him a proper view of your bra peeking out.

Steve gulped at the sight. 

“I wanna talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, what’s going in that pretty little head of yours?”

“We’ve been together for a couple of weeks now and while I’m enjoying all the kisses and cuddles… is there a reason you freeze up whenever I touch your belt? Ya know it’s not a bad thing if we do it before marriage right? Times have changed and we discovered God isn’t going to come down and strike us.”

Steve looked down, fiddling with his hands. He knew he had to be honest with you eventually. It’s not that the sight of you didn’t get him hard as a vibranium. It’s just that…

“Well, ya know I was in the ice for a while. I went in at 27, and it’s not like I wouldn’t love to… you know…”

“Fuck me?” you said pointedly

“I was gonna say make love to you but yeah that too. It’s just that… I’ve never done that before and I worried if we did you wouldn’t like it, so I tried to hold it off as long as possible. I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore and go through the hassle of teaching me what to do.”

“Oh Steve, honey, I didn’t know.”

“Know what? that I went into the ice as a virgin? Yeah, talk about a tough 60 years.”  

You snorted out a laugh. “Well, I don’t want to stop seeing you. And if you want, we can leave it for another time but I have no problem teaching you a few things.”

“Really?!” His blue orbs lit up in excitement. 

Catching himself, he cleared his throat

“I mean, yeah I’d like to... if you want to… we can do it... ya know... like how they do it on your cable channel thing or whatever... I’m not- “

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

“Yeah right of course.” He sat up straight next to you on the edge of the bed. His hand drifting to your thigh as you turned to kiss him.

His mouth immediately engulfed yours. While he lacked in experience, the boy sure knew how to kiss.  Your hands inched under his shirt; you caught his breathe in the kiss. 

“I’m gonna take your shirt off now ok?”

Steve was dumfounded and simply nodded enthusiastically. 

You pulled his shirt over is head, revealing the delicious effects of the serum. His hard pecs illuminated by the bedside table lamp. 

You had to slow down your thoughts not wanting to rush the old timer. 

You stood up. “Now I’m gonna take off my clothes, ok?” His eyes glazed over as he watched you unbutton your blouse. Your hands fell behind your back as you slowly unzipped your skirt letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out your heels leaving them in the fabric circle.

Steve could feel his cock hardening at the sight of you in your lace white set.

“Is this, ok?” you asked reassuringly.

“It’s better than ok I think this is the best day of my life.” You chuckled at his boyish comment.

Closing the space between you two you straddled his waist. 

He fell back onto the sheets, grasping at your skin eager to touch you. 

You moved your body downwards, anchoring your knees on the mattress. Slowly you pulled down his grey sweats, being greeted by his hard cock slapping against his chest. 

Your eyes widened at the size “You’ve been hiding this the whole time Rogers?” 

He gave a sheepish grin through ragged breathes, trying to focus on not ruining the moment by cumming prematurely. 

“I’m gonna put it in my mouth now ok baby?” 

Steve let out a laboured “please.” Begging to feel the warmth of your mouth, your hot breath only adding to the ache of his swollen tip. 

Slowly, you took him into your mouth. Inching downwards towards his base, swirling your tongue around his length. 

“Oh God… Jesus Christ Y/N.” 

He had never felt anything like it, he relaxed into the pillow enjoying the sight of his length disappearing into your soft, red lipped mouth. 

His hands falling to cup your cheek, overwhelmed by the sensation. 

“Stop, stop, stop.” 

“You feeling, ok?” you replied coyly

“I feel fucking amazing, but I don’t want to end this before it even starts.”

“I get you.” You travelled back up his body, positioning yourself once again in the straddling position.

“Can we do it… the other way… ya know with you lying down? I just want to do it properly the first time” Steve asked shyly 

“Of course, we can.” You rolled off the hunk of man, getting comfortable amongst the pillows. 

Steve hovered over you, pausing to drink in the sight of you. A small wet patch had formed at your entrance, the fabric sticking to your pussy like a translucent portal to an oasis. 

Slowly he leaned down to kiss you. His hand travelling over the moulds of your breast, drawing soft shapes on your stomach, and landing over the now drenched panties. He tested the waters and applied light pressure to your heat. 

“Aghh Steve.”

“Are you ok? Was that bad? Did it hurt?” He quickly retreated, studying your body for injuries.

“No silly haha it felt good do it again… but this time under the panties.” 

You helped Steve discard of the lousy fabric. He once again moved his hand towards your heat, this time more daringly sliding his finger past your folds and rubbing in an agonisingly slow up and down motion.  

The feeling of his rough hands against your heat, brushing up against your clit was intoxicating and you left out soft moans, grabbing his forearm for support.

“That feel good sweetheart?” Becoming more confident with his actions and with close examining of your face when he reached certain spots. Steve dared to speed up, circling your clit and applying light pressure.

“Omg Steve yes… please I need you inside of me.”

That was all he needed to mount on top of you. You helped him guide his length towards your hole. The initial entry of his tip in your folds sent him falling ever so slightly above you, catching himself with his arms on either side of your head. 

You lay like that for a moment, both enjoying the initial feeling of pleasure. 

“You can move now baby, don’t overthink, just in and out… it’s a natural function.” 

With your encouragement Steve started to thrust into you, slowly at first as he became accustomed to the new feeling of what the inner walls of your pussy felt like. 

He stretched his neck moaning at the sensation. 

“Oh my god, Y/N, holy shit… yes.”

You were overcome by his length, moaning and clenching your walls around him.

“Go faster baby.” With that his thrusts increased, hitting your cervix, causing you to jolt in pleasure. 

Steve then felt a sudden stream of liquid meet the tip of his cock.

“Shit, what was that are you ok?”

You gave him a weery smile, “That was me cumming baby.’

Pride overcame the gorgeous man on top of you as he broke out into a beaming smile.

“Did I do that?”

You bit your lower lip and nodded, adoring his pride at being the cause of your release. 

With that, his confidence grew as he continued to thrust into you.

 “Shit baby I’m gonna cum what do I do?!”

“Just keeping going… please… I wanna feel your cum inside of me.” A switch flipped his head as he let out his release inside of you with a loud grunt. 

His arms finally giving as he collapsed on top of you, holding your hot skin close. 

“Holy shit.”

You pulled back a loose strand from his glistening forehead 

“What’d you think Cap?”

“I think I’m an idiot for not doing that sooner.” He gave you a lazy smile, raising his head to meet yours for a long, drawn-out kiss. 

He brought his head back to your chest, using your boobs as a pillow and before you know it the soldier was letting out soft snores. Exhausted from his release that was 60 years in the making. 

You smiled to yourself, the now proud owner of Steve Rogers virginity. 

Love Language - Steve Rogers

Words of Affirmation

Steve feels everything deeply and he’s not shy about expressing it. 

He likes saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him. 

He comes from a time where letters and the spoken word mattered and he will always carry that with him and use it in his relationship with you. 

Even though it’s old fashioned, he writes you love letters. 

You adore his beautiful written letters and keep them in a box, looking through them often because his words are so beautiful. 

He always writes little handwritten notes for you. 

He will listen when you tell him something you learned and he will just stare in awe. 

“I love how your mind works.” 

If he does end up staying in bed with you until you wake, “You are my favorite part of my day.” 

It doesn’t matter what you wear, he’s complimenting you. 

Just wearing his oversized shirt, “You look amazing in my clothes.” 

Wearing a tank top and jeans, “You are beautiful.” 

In a fancy dress for one of Tony’s parties, “Wow. I -uh. Wow. You…you’re so gorgeous. I can’t believe how I got so lucky.” 

He makes big proclamations of love. 

“You are my person. Always have been. Always will.” 

“You are the love of my life. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” 

At the end of the day, he is a big communicator and loves to tell you how you make him feel and wants to make you feel special because in his eyes, you are.

Steve Rogers x Witch Practitioner

He is super respectful of the belief system you go with. 

He’s a curious boy and asks questions, and asks how he can be respectful of everything. 

He collects little rocks for you on his morning runs. 

Ask if he can put little knick knacks on any of the altars. 

Saves any jars he uses. He even purposely buys the grocery stores that come in glass containers so he can wash them out and use them when he’s done. 

He loves and consents to any magic you want to do on him. 

He tries to remember what all your sigils mean. 

“Honey, what does this symbol mean again?” 

Her whole place smells like Florida Water. 

She enchants his dog tags for protection. 

He notices that she mutters things when she is making food or stirring his drink. 

He cannot drink coffee unless she makes it, she enchants his coffee and it never tastes better and it gives him more energy. 

Since he’s awake before the sun rises for his runs, he brings in her moon water before it gets ruined by the sun. 

“Did you buy another herb plant?” 

"Why is there is salt in the doorway?"

At the end of the day he doesn't mind what you do and he will even encourage you in your craft.

Steve Rogers x Latina Woman

Golden retriever boyfriend that’s happy to be included in things. 

Asks you so many questions. 

Food! It's his favorite thing that she does!

Loves your cooking and that you serve so much food at a time, even with his super soldier metabolism he gets stuffed and given a second plate. 

Loves enchiladas. He always says “it has more flavor than anything I’ve ever had” 

I swear all he wants is your food and your kisses. 

He almost cried one day coming home from a horrible mission and seeing a table full of food. 

Loves the food and watches you cook while asking what things are. 

“Honey, what is this?” “What’s this spice?” 

Genuinely confused that you make nopal. “You eat… cactus?” 

Crying heavily but still eating, “Why is this so spicy?” 

Actually believes the tower was under attack when you were cooking chilis 

Gets scared when you start yelling in Spanish, literally looks like a kicked puppy. 

You call him “lindo”.  

He melts when you tell him, “Que lindo” 

Steve Rogers

Agent - angst smut fluff

Masterlist

Masterlist

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Peter Parker

Rules for requests

⊹ ₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ Apricity ₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader [This chapter], Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes and Bucky Barnes X Reader [Later chapters].

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Summary: Steve hated you simply because of your past as a HYDRA agent. But now that you have joined the Avengers, will things start to change? Especially after his dear friend, Bucky, seems to only recognise you clearly and you are the only one who can control the Winter soldier.

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Warnings: Gore, PTSD, reader is out-casted, Mean Steve, reader got drugged, torture, brainwashing, anxiety, background character death in detail, electrocution, and just usual trauma that comes with HYDRA.

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Word count: 6.2k

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Tropes: Enemies to lovers, Grumpy x Sunshine, found family, friends to lovers.

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Being the enemy of Captain America was not easy.

And being in the same team as him while being on his radar was definitely not easy.

You sighed, staring at your cereal bowl before finally looking up to make eye contact with Steve Rogers, who was already staring you down. It's been months since you joined the Avengers, Fury's and Tony's decision, and yet Steve's scrutiny has only increased. Whenever you go, whatever you do, he is always keeping an watchful eye on you.

You both stare at each other, his gaze burning into yours with nothing but hatred and suspicion while you were just blinking awkwardly at him.

Steve averted his gaze when Natasha cleared her throat as she walked by him as she glared at him, an unspoken warning. You returned her smile as she made her away towards the kitchen.

"Did you wake up late again, Lil Owl?" She inquired, her gaze filled with amusement as she watched you nod.

"My sleep schedule is fucked beyond repair." You chuckled as you stirred your strawberry flavoured cereal.

"You might wanna work on that cause we have an important mission coming up on Monday," Tony's voice made you turn around as you titled your head in slight confusion before he continued, "It's... HYDRA related."

Everyone became tensed at the mention of HYDRA, the air in the kitchen seemed to thicken with a subtle hint of suffocation filling the room. You could feel everyone's gaze falling on you, making you stop your mindless stirring as your mind started to race with the memories of your past.

You were an HYDRA agent since the second World War, some records even speculating that you were in HYDRA well before the war even begin. A killer, a bioweapon that surpassed human capacity. A human turned machine. That's what they used to describe you.

Belladonna.

That's what they called you.

For years you were nothing but a brainwashed machine.

Nothing but a mindless killer.

"We cannot trust her to go on such an important mission. She might sabotage it." Steve's cold voice brought you out of your chain of thoughts as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat under his burning gaze.

The way he looked at you... It lacked any warmth. His gaze told you more than he ever needed to. Hatred and mistrust. And worst of all, lack of respect. You knew that he didn't even respect you, thinking of you as nothing but a human who has no care for the bloodshed you have unleashed, for the pain and suffering you have subjected innocent people to. You knew that he doesn't consider you as a part of the team.

As a part of his team.

You were nothing more than an intruder, a venomous snake waiting for an opportunity to strike and kill. A betrayal in formation.

"Rogers. Cut her some slack, she has been a loyal agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. for three years now. She has guided and led all HYDRA based missions for a year now." You glanced up at Tony, thankful to have him by your side.

Since you have joined the team, it has been Tony and Thor who have stood by your side no matter what. Because of them, others started to warm up to you and slowly accept you as a part of the team.

"And? She has been a loyal agent of HYDRA for 70 years. If anything-"

"Come on, Rogers. Don't tell me you are still salty about the fact that she kicked your ass in World War II." Tony's word immediately made both you and Steve tense up.

During a HYDRA mission, well after a year the war ended, Captain America had the misfortune of going against Belladonna. It left him injured and his men killed.

He was made to protect whereas she was made to kill.

"Stark, you better-"

"Enough, both of you!" Before things could get any more heated, Natasha intruppted them while you continued to chew on your cereal. Both of them continued to stare each other down before Steve finally averted his gaze to glare at you, who was staring back at him with a mouthful of cereal.

"I have my eyes on you, don't forget that." You watched him storm off, being used to seeing him annoyed around you.

"Without context, someone might think that Steve is flirting with you." Tony's comment made you chuckle as your gaze landed on him.

"Oh yeah? And what's your definition of flirting? Death threats?" You shot back, shaking your head at his behaviour while Natasha simply smiled. You both were known to engage in playful banter, a reason why Steve banned you from pairing up after a mission where both you spent more timing being sarcastic than actually working.

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You stared at the layout of the HYDRA building while listening to Tony and Steve explain the plan. It was a simple plan; Get in, Kick asses and Get out, as Tony has put it.

Seemed simple.

A little too simple for your liking.

You glanced up at Steve as he called out your name, "Pay attention. Stop staring at the layout, you can memorize it later."

"There is something weird about the layout." You mumbled, making his eyebrows furrow as he walked to where you were standing to glance at the map.

"HYDRA does not store all of their new weapons in one facility, they are usually scattered across the country so if one base is ambushed, others still have access to the weapons. But according to this layout, this whole area," You gestured towards the array of rooms lined together, "Is for weapons, which is extremely unusual because why would they need such a big room for weapons when the other part of the facility is half its size?"

You could see everyone exchanging glances as they pondered over your words, realizing that it did seem odd.

"What are you implying here?" Steve's voice broke the thoughtful silence from beside you, his body brushing against yours as he stared at you with an unreadable expression.

You bit the inside of your cheek before clearing your throat to explain, "Well... What I am implying is that are we certain that the weapons are not... Bio-weapons?"

"Bio-weapons? What do you mean?" You glanced at Tony, taking in his confused expression, "HYDRA is making a virus or something of that sort?"

"HYDRA refers to their biologically enhanced soldiers as bio-weapons." Steve mumbled, staring at the layout as he considered your words.

Despite his hatred towards you and your past, he always took your words into serious consideration whenever it came to plan formation. It is a quality of his that you respect and look up to. Qualities like this is what makes him the Captain America.

"When I was still in HYDRA a few years back, they were... Trying to replicate their formula, the one they used on me. If I recall correctly, they were successful at creating a prototype but... She died after a few months due to the intensity of the training and the... Brainwashing." You trailed off, biting your lips as your mind flashed with the images.

A woman was laying limply on the cold metal chair, the electrical collar that was attached to her head was lifted up.

She was dead.

Her body couldn't take it anymore.

There were gashes all over her body, small cuts littered all over her chest as her collarbone gushed with blood. You could almost see her bone amongst the onpour of blood rushing out of her collarbone. A metal wire was attached to her collarbone, going deep inside her. They not only brainwashed her but for some sick reason, they pushed the electric wire inside of her flesh, electrocuting her from the inside.

Everything around you felt like a blur, the only thing you could focus on was her eyes.

They were wide open.

Her pupils were dilated to the point it felt like staring at an abyss, at something with was not human. Something that was stripped off of it's humanity and was considered an object.

She was not human.

No, she was a mere prototype.

Her fate was fixed the moment you kidnapped her. She was always meant to die. She fulfilled her purpose and hence the only thing left to do was to kill her.

But... Did she really have to die like this?

Even in death, she seemed to be in agony. Blood trailed down her cheeks, even in death, her corpse was crying blood. Even in the afterlife, the scars of her suffering stayed with her. It seemed like she was suffering even after dying. Forever making her a symbol of HYDRA's cruelty.

And whose fault was that? Was it really HYDRA's fault? Or was it yours? You were the one who kidnapped her, you were the one who dragged her to the facility, you were one the one who gathered all those candidates for the possible prototype. You were just following orders but... If you did not do all those things, she wouldn't have met such a cruel end. She had a beautiful smile and a mother who was waiting for her to return for Christmas. If only you-

You took a deep breath as someone called out your name, making you tear your eyes from the map as you stared at Tony.

"Yeah?" You asked breathlessly, a feeling of suffocating almost overwhelming you as you blinked furiously to clear out your vision as it was hard to see because your vision was blurry.

"Are you okay?" Bruce's worried tone made you wave your hand in front of your face to dismiss his worry, chuckling awkwardly as you avoided eye contact.

"Yeah, I just... I am allergic to dust. Yeah." You lied, staring at the table as your eye scanned for a tissue to wipe your eyes and nose.

You glanced up at Steve in surprise as he silently handed you a handkerchief, his initials written on it with blue thread. He stared back in your wide eyes as it reminded him of a frightened deer. His chest was burning again. An odd feeling of sadness, a sadness that he felt not for himself but for you, took over him as he felt a lump form in his throat.

He hated this feeling.

He hated that look on your face.

He cleared his throat as he saw you hesitantly taking his handkerchief, your hands brushing against each other's as you muttered a small thank you before you wiped your eyes with it.

"So... What you are saying is that there could be more people like... How you were back in HYDRA? Is that were you are getting at?" Tony's voice broke the silence, making you nod as you took a sip of water.

"I cannot be entirely correct as it has been five years since I have escaped but it never hurts to be on a look out." Steve nodded at your words, his expressions hardening at the possibility of HYDRA experimenting on innocent people and turning them into ruthless killers. He hated them. They were the reason for countless deaths, for the death of his comrades. They stole his youth and his dearest friend, Bucky.

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The cold wind blew past you, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You glanced behind you, your eyes lingering at a dark corner in the corridor before you turned your gaze forward. You can't seem to shake the feeling that there was someone following you. That someone was keeping an eye on you.

You followed closely behind Steve as your hand seemed to be turning white from the grip you had on your gun. In all honesty, you have a bad feeling about today's mission. There is something just not quite right with this facility. By now, you would've encountered at least two HYDRA agents but it seemed like there was no soul around.

"Stark, have you found anyone yet?" It seemed like Steve and others have noticed the lack of activity within the facility as well, judging from the weary expression on Steve's face and the confusion in Tony's voice.

"No, not even a fly so far. It's like they have finally stolen Harry's invisibility cloak."

You almost let out a giggle at Tony's comment, making Steve shoot you a disapproving glare as you covered it up with a cough. You always appreciated Tony's humour, it was well needed in tense times like this. You switched to personal comms as you heard Tony call out your name, "Don't forget you still have to watch the second Harry Potter with Pepper and I."

"Yes, yes." You mumbled back, smiling to yourself before straightening up.

You felt it again.

That weird presence and the feeling that someone was behind you.

A crawling feeling overcame your body and you felt a heaviness behind you, it almost felt like someone was behind you as you quickly turned your head around to check. A long corridor stared back at you, the dim lightening gave it a sickening look. It was like a void, it lacked the touch of humanity. It made you feel cold, extremely cold as a subtle anxiousness settled in your chest.

Steve glanced at you, noticing how tensed you look as you stared back at the corridor.

"Captain... Was that... Was that door always there?"

His eyebrows furrowed at your question as he moved closer to where you were standing, his hand accidentally brushing against yours as he followed your gaze and strangely, there was indeed a door that seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

"It was always there, what do you mean?" You stared at him in confusion and bewilderment.

No, you were certain that the door was not there when you first passed by it.

"Then... Then why did we not check it? We are supposed to check every room." Steve smiled at your words, shaking his head as he stepped closer to you.

You blinked in surprise as he gently pat your head, "Because we need to hurry back home, if we check every room, we will be loosing our precious time. Plus, aren't you looking forward to our movie night? It's friday."

You stared at him for a while before nodding slowly with a small smile. It is true that checking every room will only drag out the mission, what you were looking for is not even inside of that room.

Steve started to move forward, glancing back at you as he gestured you to stay close to him. You followed him, your steps lighter and faster as you felt a rush of warmth through your chest, an excitement for finally being included in the Avengers' weekly movie nights.

It seemed like Steve was finally warming up to you.

Your smile faded as a strange noise reached your ears. A muffled whisper that was far away but at the same time it was near. It sounded like someone was whispering something in your ear but they were being choked and waterboard so the only sound they could make was a muffled groan.

Your feet came to a halt as you closed your eyes to focus on the noise. Your breath hitched as a piercing pain shot through your head.

"He..lp....m...e..."

"Help... Me..."

"HELP ME!"

You stumbled as an ear piercing scream reached your ear. Turning around quickly, you let out a gasp as you saw blood pooling out of the open space underneath the door. Flinching as the doorknob started to rattle, screaming filled the corridor as someone kept banging against the door, seemingly trying to open it.

Steve's hand suddenly grabbed your upper arm, stopping you from rushing towards the door.

Something is not right.

Steve would never ask you to join the move night with the Avengers. He was the one who excluded you from all the team bonding activities that the Avengers held, insisting that if you were present, he would not join.

It was not even Friday.

"What happened?"

You struggled against his grip as the realization hit you, "Let me go!"

"Why wouldn't you help me?!"

"Huh?-", Letting out a scream as you fell backwards, your eyes widened in shock.

No, it can't be...

Blood dripping down her cheeks as her eyes were wide open, her mouth agape as she stared back at you with the same haunting look. The cuts on her body slowly started to bleed as her knees buckled underneath her. You crawled backwards as she fell on the ground, her arms reaching out for you as she dragged her body towards where you were.

You stumbled to get back on your feet as you rushed towards the door, trying to open it as someone kept banging on it from inside.

You froze in fear as you felt the girl grab your arm, her body pressed against yours as she leaned against your head to whisper, "Wake up... Save yourself..."

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Your whole body shook as you opened your eyes, groaning in pain as the bright light shined directly in your eyes. Your arms were tied down to the bed as you heard someone curse loudly.

"Bound her legs quickly!" Your gaze immediately fell on someone approaching you with a rope before you glanced around the room. Panic settled in your chest as you realised where you were and what was happening as your eyes landed on a glass flask that was filled with blood, your upperarm aching as you felt the room spinning.

The guy groaned in pain as your kick landed on his chest, his body hitting the ground. You struggled against the restraints on your hands, screaming as you ripped the handle off the bed, freeing yourself.

You turned towards the guy that was trying to sneak up on you, his footsteps alerting you. You kicked him in the chest before slamming the handles into the face of another person who tried to punch you. Your eyes were burning as everything around you seemed too bright, every sound too loud as you felt a pulsing pain in your head. The smell of blood was overwhelming and you could feel the ropes in your hands rubbing against your skin, the cold sweat dropping down your forehead. You could taste the mixture of your blood and saliva in your mouth as you spit on the ground.

All of your senses were heightened, the adrenaline in your system was overwhelming you as your fight or die instinct kicked in. Your fingers landed on your ribs, pressing an emergency button in your suit to send your location to the Avengers as well as S.H.I.E.L.D. with an emergency message.

A sudden blow to your back made you stumble to the ground as your breathing hitched in pain. A harsh pain shot through your skull as they slammed a nearby metal tray on your head.

You groaned in pain before you body slammed them but to no avail as other HYDRA agents quickly grabbed both of your arms, one grabbing your waist as they tried to grab you away. Your eyes landed on the glass flask filled with your blood.

The guy you body slammed let out a curse as the flask landed on the ground after you kicked it, making the blood spill everywhere.

He looked at you, his eyes burning with rage as he got up. He towered over you, the muscles in his arms flexing under his clothes as he slapped you.

You coughed up blood as the room around you started to spin once again. A realization hit you.

He was a bio-weapon.

The sheer strength he possessed was different from the other agents but it seemed like he was a defected bio-weapon as your eyes landed on his code.

D-04.

Defected experiment number 4.

You felt weak as you gazed at an agent walking towards you with a syringe.

No... You cannot let them have your blood.

You glanced at the bio-weapon in front of you before you mustered up all your strength to kick him in the balls. Pulling your arms in front of you, you slammed the agents that were holding your arms into the bio-weapon while stomping your foot on the foot of the agent who had his arms around your waist to restrain you.

The agent with the syringe froze as your gaze landed on him, the murderous glint in your eyes not going unnoticed by him as he subconsciously took a step back when you started walking towards him.

A sudden breeze flew against your face as you saw a glimpse of something blue passing besides your face before you turned your head to see Captain America's shield hitting D-04. You saw him rush towards you as you stumbled on the ground, his arms stopping you from falling face first on the ground.

The others rushed inside as well, their eyes immediately falling on your weakened state in Steve's arm and the blood surrounding you.

Your gaze landed on Natasha, her lips moving but she sounded far, like a distant wave crashing over at the beach. You sniffled as you felt something drip down your nose, the metallic smell confirming your suspicion of a nose bleed. You felt everything and nothing all at once. You could feel every touch, smell every drop of blood, hear every sound, see the brightened light that loomed over you and taste the blood in your mouth. It was all too much.

Steve stared down at you worriedly, your discomfort on only growing as the second passed by awfully slow. His gaze landed on your eyes, the light and the tears in your eyes made them look extremely glossy as they shined like diamond. Despite their beauty, he couldn't help but feel unnerved by how dazed they look. It was as if you were looking right through him and not at him. He has never seen you so distressed and out of it. His gaze shifted towards the crimson floor before travelling up to your arm. Your sleeves were torn off and your arm has started to swell. He had a feeling that the blood was yours. A pang of anxiousness hit him as he thought about you getting critically hurt.

"Hey, hey, look at me. I am going to get you out of here, okay? Hold tight." You nodded slightly at Steve's words. His hands gently clasped around yours, making you wince as he wrapped your swollen arm around his neck.

He paused before standing up as he glanced at your face, noticing the nose bleed you had. His hand reached towards your face, hesitation clear in the way his hand stopped right before grabbing your face. You blinked slowly as you titled your head in slight confusion before nodding slowly as he asked, "May I?"

His gloved hand slowly cupped your face, the rubbery texture of his glove rubbing against your skin made you cringe a bit as even the slightest touch seemed too overwhelming for you. His thumb slowly wiped the blood away, his touch gentle as if he was scared that you will get hurt further.

For a moment, it seemed like everything around you had gotten silent. All you could focus on was the way he was staring in your eyes. The way his blue eyes looked like the sky before the storm. Calm, collected yet stirred up with an onset of complex emotions ranging from rage to concern. Your eyes trailed down to his neck, the way his Adams apple moved slightly when he noticed your gaze shifting as he swallowed.

Steve was the first one to break the eye contact as Tony's voice broke you both out of trance, "Move it, upcoming lovebirds who have just gone through an emeies to lovers trope! She needs medical assistant, she lacks the plot armour!"

Steve shot Tony an annoyed glare but started to hurry outside of the facility. He passed through the door of the lab you were in, halting when he felt your hand on his neck.

"W-wait... My blood... You have to wipe it... Don't let them get any..." You mumbled, struggling to find the words as your brain seemed to have given up on you.

"What do you mean?"

"It's..." You trailed off, struggling to find the proper words to explain as you stuttered. Steve stared at you patiently, something he always does whenever you have to say something that appears to be important. Finally , you found the words to explain, "Like... My blood has the DNA segment of the serum, right? The only version that, despite not being the serum that you had and not being as good as it, worked efficiently. They didn't realise it until a few months before I escaped. I think..."

"They are trying to replicate the serum that is in your system." You nodded as Steve finished your sentence, his jaw clenched as he realised that the whole mission was a hoax to lure you in and if Tony did not insist of making your mission suit and installing multiple security and emergency measures in it, who knows what would've happened to you. For all he knows, they would've captured you again, turning you into the mindless machine you were all those years ago.

For some reason, his heart clenched at the possibility of HYDRA turning you into Belladonna again, triggering your alter ego and using you as the mindless killing machine. He cannot fathom the cruelty of stealing away someone's humanity from them, someone consciousness from them and using them for their own selfish agenda. Someone who was as bright as you, someone whose as lively as you being turned into a heartless machine once again arose an empty feeling in his chest, one that made it hard to breath and the lump forming in his throat made it harder for him to speak.

Clearly his throat, he started to walk towards the exit of the facility, "Don't worry, S.H.I.E.L.D. is on their way. They'll ensure that not even a single drop of your blood can be stolen."

He glanced at you nodding slowly, your eyes fluttering shut as you leans your head against his shoulder.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

You watched an S.H.I.E.L.D. agent make his way towards you with a cheerful smile on his face. You returned his smile, sitting on the bed at the compound's medbay. You had just woken up a couple hours prior and after a quick glance at the clock, it appears like you were out for a day. It was not unusual for you to sleep for extended period of time when you needed to recover as HYDRA would often put you in cryo induced sleep, which has now become a habit of your body. To sleep the pain away, both physical and mental.

Your attention was pulled towards the agent again as you saw him pull out a syringe, an unsettling feeling taking over your body as you saw him prepare it to draw blood.

"Um... What are you doing?" He paused in his tracks, his smile going a bit lip tight as he stared at you in silence for a minute.

"We need to draw your blood to send it to get tested to identify what drug they induced you with. It's a safety precaution." Something about his words rubbed you wrong as red bells rang in your head. You have often gotten hurt in past missions and are no stranger to getting druged once or twice during those missions as well but S.H.I.E.L.D. has never done this safety precaution before so why would they do it all of a sudden?

Your luck seems to finally shine through the dark clouds like sunshine peaking through after a dark storm as Bruce made his way towards you after noticing your discomfort.

"What's the matter here?"

The agent seem to froze at Bruce's question but you noticed the grip he had on the syringe seemed to have gotten stronger. After a moment of silence, Bruce glanced at you for answers.

"He wants to draw my blood to test it. Apparently it's a safety precaution by Director Fury." Bruce's eyebrow furrowed at your words as he casted a quick glance at the agent. Bruce seemed to have noticed that something was off about the agent as well as he walked in between you and the agent, purposefully shielding your body with his own.

"Yeah, no, I will have to ask you to leave as she has already lost a significant amount of blood and we cannot let anyone draw more from her until a few days. You can come back within a few days to draw her blood after we have confirmed this 'safety precaution' of yours with Nick Fury." The agent seemed to have frozen in place as he stared at Bruce with a hard expression.

"We cannot do that, we need the blood today-"

"What blood?" All of you turned around to stare at Steve as he walked towards the bed you were sitting on, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the agent, "Who are you?"

The agent's body became tensed as Steve stared him down, "I am from S.H.I.E.L.D., there is a safety precaution that we need to-"

Bruce cut him off as he turned to face Steve, his expressions giving away his weariness and annoyance, "He is trying to draw some blood from her."

Steve's eyes immediately fell on you peaking from behind Bruce, his eyebrows raising as he made eye contact with you. You stared back at him before nodding silently to show that what Bruce said is true. Steve's face hardened as he stepped towards the agent who took a step back as he nervously looked at him.

"I am going to ask you to leave and you will without any complaints."

"But-"

"I said, and I repeat, leave."

The agent stared at Steve before his gaze fell on your face, an unreadable expression on his face before it slowly turned into one of anger and desperation. Something about him was off and everyone in the medbay could identify that. None of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that were assigned to you acted like this because they were always high ranking agents. Fury always assigned the trusted agents with the task of interacting with the team and completing any safety precautions to ensure confidentiality.

The agent nodded slightly before reaching inside his pocket. You could see Steve's body immediately tensing up, subconsciously preparing to attack at any given moment if needed. Even Bruce seemed to have picked up on Steve's alert body language as he stepped away from him slightly and shot a worried glance at you. You titled your head, slightly confused as to why he seemed so worried about you because you are well capable of taking care of yourself but then you remembered his tendency to get worried about all the members whenever they are injured. Biting your lips, you tried to stop a smile from growing on your face at the possibility of Bruce thinking of you as a member and being worried about your well-being.

You were pulled out of your cheesy chain of thoughts as you heard Steve's fist coming in contact with the agent's face as he landed on the ground. You cringed slightly as Steve stepped on the agent's wrist before bending down to force the knife out of his hand.

"We need to be on a lookout- Woah there, seems like HYDRA needs to give their spies better training. How low is their budget to train their double agent this poorly? Do you need funds?" You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you despite the seriousness of the situation as you saw Tony walk up to the HYDRA agent on the ground. "We just got alerted that there is a HYDRA spy cosplaying as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Thought it would be a tad bit harder and fun to find him but alas, HYDRA sure knows how to kill joy."

Steve shot Tony a disapproving glare as he continued to make sassy comments on the situation before sighing as he shook his head, knowing that nothing can stop Tony from being the diva that he is.

"Let's get you to the cell now, shall we?"

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

It's been a few hours since they have taken the HYDRA spy down to the interrogation room. A few agents from S.H.I.E.L.D. have also arrived to interrogate and gather information from the spy. You have finally been discharged from the med-bay after strict guidelines from Bruce on how to take care of yourself for a speedy recovery despite the fact that you already recover faster than a normal human due to the super soilder serum. You were smiling the whole time he was explaining the importance of taking proper care of your body to ensure a speedy recovery. He seemed taken aback when you explain the reason why you were smiling so much was because this was probably the first time in 70 years that someone was so worried about your well-being and that it kind of reminded you of your friends and mom back in the days who always treated even minor injuries and illness as the end of the world and scolded you while simultaneously taking care of you.

The cold breeze felt like heaven against your sweaty body, making you paddle your bycycle harder to increase the speed. Closing your eyes, you imagined that yourself as a pirate who was on a quest to sail the seven seas as she stood proudly on her ship as the cold breeze hit her face. Your imagination was cut short as you bumped against a speed breaker. You felt your body lunch forward as you lost control of your bycycle before a sharp stinging sensation on your knee made you hiss in pain. The gravel underneath your body dug harshly against your body, the tiny rocks digging against your skin uncomfortably.

Someone called out your name before all your friends circled around you in worry before the redhead pulled your body in a sitting position, wrapping his arms around your shoulder as he ended your dramatic display of laying on the ground as a dead body, "Oh my god! Star, are you okay?!"

"Of course she is not, you Dumbo! Her knee is bleeding!" Another friend of yours sassed, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you both with a expression that mirrored a single mom who is extremely done with her children after working a 12 hour shift for minimum wage.

"Aye, who you calling a Dumbo?"

"Are you that much of a Dumbo that you cannot even figure out the fact that I am calling you a Dumbo?"

"Aye-"

"Guys! Cut it out!" A third voice intervened their bickering as the Venus rolled her eyes at their behaviour. The boy holding you, Mars, pouted as he looked away for a second before glancing at your bleeding knee. Juno huffed as he crossed his arm, his muscles flexing under his shirt, decided not to say anything to save himself from the earful he would receive otherwise.

"Can you walk?" Venus asked as Mars slide his arms under yours as he slowly pulled you up into a standing position. A stinging pain shot through your knee, making them buckle as Juno quickly caught you in his arms. Venus sighed as she looked at you before shifting her gaze to Juno.

"Carry her home, Mars and I will take care of the bicycles."

Before you could protest, Juno slid his arms under your legs and carried you home bridal style as a surprised squeak left your mouth as he stared at you with a shit eating grin. You recognised that expression immediately as your eyes widened, he is gonna do something. You heard Mars and Venus yell at him as he started to run towards your home while laughing. You may not remember a lot of things but you do remember one thing clearly; His laugh was contagious and precious. You ended up laughing all the way home, forgetting about the stinging pain in your knee.

You don't clearly remember what happened next but you if you remember correctly, until your knee was fully healed, Juno carried you everywhere while Mars and Venus tended to your every need. Thankfully it was summer vacation so you didn't have to bear the embarrassment of Juno carrying you from one class to another.

A warm feeling filled your chest at the fond memory. It was something you thought about a lot. You cannot recall their names so you made them up. You remember your nickname being Star, hence why you named them after the planets.

You smiled to yourself, thinking about the memory. JARVIS voice quickly pulled you out of your thoughts as he rang an emergency message throughout the compound.

"Intruder alert, I repeat, Intruder alert! Please stay calm and stay where you are."

A realization hit you.

The Bio-weapon and the spy are in the interrogation rooms.

HYDRA is here to take back their Bio-weapon.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Author's note: Guess who's back? Back again? And now with a series! Anyways, if you would like to be added in a taglist, please let me know in the comments!

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Slow Like Honey Masterpost (Complete)

Summary:  The gossip that buzzes around in the teacher’s lounge is that sweet, sensitive, divorcé Steve Rogers is hot-for-teacher. His daughter’s first-grade teacher, to be exact. Steve Rogers x Petite Reader –

(*) denotes NSFW

Part I: Teacher Appreciation Week

Part II: Slow Like Honey

Part III: Heavy With Mood

Part IV: The First Taste*

Part V: Twenty Years and a Month*

Part VI: Three Conversations

Part VII: Try Again

Part VIII: Never is a Promise*

lovely graphic made by @jurassicbarnes​

i've never read anything like this before. love it!!! :)

Threadbare (1)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader (see series)

Summary: Steve gets to meet his favorite designer, and you get a surprise visitor at work.

Warnings: none. Maybe a bit of creepy behavior but not from Steve. Yes, I did just want to use the leather jacket gif for shiggles. What's it to ya? WC 3355

Steve Rogers hates stuffy functions. He hates the brown-nosing. He hates trying to convince people who have everything to give scraps to people with nothing. He hates watching the excess and indulgence, even when he knows it ends up giving something to those in need. He hates it. He hates the whole lot of these stupid, asinine—

Steve takes a breath and smooths his hand down the buttery fabric of a double-breasted jacket hanging next to his intended garment.

Ok, fine, he hates the functions, but he actually enjoys the dressing up part.

He didn’t used to. No. The only outfit outside of his Cap suit that ever truly fit him—before or after the serum—was his SSR uniform, and coming from a time of nothing, Steve accepted that as a huge win.

And then he woke up in this world of excess and—what do they call it? Fast-fashion?— realized that what should be easier to acquire was much, much harder to find: room to breathe.

Steve may roll his eyes at Tony’s custom everything, but he admits internally that at least Stark’s comfortable all the time. Steve would settle for being comfortable in his own skin.

This helps though, this gloriously draped, stiff in a supportive way, heavy in a grounding way, and shapely button down. He doesn’t need a whole suit tonight; it’s not that kind of event. In fact, Steve wasn’t specifically invited. He heard Tony talking about the new collection by the designer of this shirt—which happens to be the label for 90% of Steve’s dressier clothing at this point—and Steve outright volunteered himself to go with Tony.

See, Steve Rogers is now a big, broad guy, and it’s been an adjustment, as well as plain difficult, to gather a wardrobe that isn’t custom tailored due to his sheer size and proportions. The team jokes about his tight shirts, but if he buys things large enough for his shoulders, his waist swims in fabric. Steve had to live off of stretchy clothing for the first three years he was out of the ice. He wasn’t out of his Cap suit long enough for the investment to be worthwhile. Then it took another several years before he discovered Tovarich.

The man must know what it’s like to be big and broad, that’s for sure. Steve may not be much for high fashion, but he’s genuinely gotten so much comfort and enjoyment out of Mr. Tovarich’s work that Steve wants to thank him personally. For once, being Captain America is a good card to play to ensure he gets to meet the designer.

Steve adjusts his rolled sleeves a bit in the mirror, smirking at himself for being a bit of a dandy concerning his look right now, but he’s determined to have a good time out with Tony. It’s just a fashion show. How difficult can it be?

Really damn difficult, that’s what it is.

Steve isn’t prepared for the bizarre press interest in who is there instead of what is being shown. He’s used to cameras flashing at him—especially because the bright and loud pops of flashes were much worse in the ‘40s—but Steve’s in awe of the models’ complete indifference while walking a straight line with a straight face in some of the simplest, most magnificent men’s wear he’s ever seen.

If all he had to do was tick boxes on a list to order things, Steve would be in big trouble with a full bingo card and an empty wallet. It’d be worth it though.

Tony tries to talk to him every so often, but the music is outrageously loud. Steve can’t hear a thing.

He gets tapped on the shoulder by some women sitting behind him, and they try to say some more things he can’t hear.

Everyone rises to clap, and Steve joins in, overwhelmed by the fast pace of all the outfits on repeat, when the man on his other side accidentally elbows Steve and drops his program. The paper flutters to land in front of Tony’s feet, so Steve picks it up, hands it back, and the man makes an appreciative face before gesturing vaguely at the runway and mouthing his admiration. Steve nods and smiles, happy he’s not the only one fanboying over clothes.

The lights change in the venue. The photography and clapping stop. Tony starts yammering on about an after party, but Steve wants to meet the designer.

“Oh, Cap, that walk-and-wave was as close as you’re getting today. Tovarich is a hot commodity. I’ll just get you a fitting sometime.” He clamps a hand onto Steve’s shoulder and tilts his head toward the refreshments. “Shall we?”

Darn. Steve should have done more research on how fashion shows work, but he hates how invasive online snooping feels. It was fine when he was catching up on history and historical figures. However, most of the ‘news’ now is not news at all, so he avoids searching for information that way. He doesn’t ask question about Mr. Tovarich because, in theory, it’s none of Steve’s business and Steve may or may not be slightly ashamed at how obsessed he is with something as trivial as clothing.

Fashion is not something he thought about until very, very recently. The most time he’s spent worried about what he puts on is his tac suit, and the main features of that are being blade resistant and bullet proof. Those things don’t exactly interest him so much as they are in his best interest.

So Steve is rather disappointed by the outcome of the evening, but he’ll manage. For once, he’s got a tiny bright light of something to look forward to in the form of a few more dress shirts and a very sharp vest.

He goes on with life as usual.

Months later and they’re doing this thing.

It’s called the Hellfire Gala, and apparently, it’s a big, big deal. Steve’s told everyone goes all out, that he’ll need to be dressed to the nines, and he realizes this is his opportunity.

Tony’s elated to make the arrangements for him with the Tovarich Atélier and plans to go with him. He wouldn’t stop grumbling about how awkward Steve might be, raving that he can’t have Steve getting a bad rap under his clout, so Steve shows up nervous.

Tony sends a text saying he’s running late. Of course he is, today of all days.

Steve shuts his eyes and lowers his head in gratitude that there are only two seamstresses when he first arrives. The ladies—one older and one younger—offer refreshments and ask a few questions about the event and what styles he might be interested in. He explains the getup needs to highlight the ‘Cap’ persona since the gala is a celebration of their work as Avengers, but other than that, it’s the-sky’s-the-limit for Tovarich.

The younger seamstress smiles at that and calls it ‘fun.’

Sure. That’s one word for it. Steve would also call it daunting.

As instructed, he stands on a small platform while the ladies bustle about speaking quietly to each other. Steve hears Tony ring the reception bell before any measurements have started, and he heaves out a sigh of relief.

“In time for the good stuff, am I?” Stark winks.

“Always perfectly welcome, Mr. Stark,” you, the younger woman, say politely. “Would you care for anything to drink?”

“Uh,” Tony smooths his hand down his current suit front, eyes flickering to Steve, “have you met me?”

Your smile widens. “Dominica, please,” you signal to your coworker.

Between your fingers, you’ve folded a scrap of paper, something you scribbled while Steve stood awkwardly on the pedestal (which isn’t to say he has stopped standing awkwardly), and Tony snatches the paper from your grasp, unfolding it to make a challenging, inquisitive face.

Steve huffs and glares, praying his friend doesn’t start hitting on Tovarich’s employee before the man even shows up. Steve isn’t the one to be worried about.

Stark takes Dominica’s proffered tumbler of brown liquor, saying nothing.

You are a ninja with the tape measure, gentle hands sliding over his chest and waist and—Steve swallows—his hips, all while rattling off numbers…which no one writes down. Steve moves his arms and legs when told. When you’re kneeling on the edge of the platform, eye level with his crotch, Steve decides to distract himself and get some answers.

“I’ve been looking forward to my first meeting with Mr. Tovarich. When might he arrive?”

Tony clears his throat, wincing. “Not possible, buddy.”

Steve tenses.

“I thought that—“

“You can’t meet him for the the first time.” Tony holds up a hand before Steve can move. “You already did. She’s measuring the distance between your balls and the floor.”

Steve startles out a ‘what,’ snapping his legs shut with your hand between his thighs.

“Captain Steve Rogers, please meet your favorite designer,” Tony beams, shoving his tongue against the inside of his cheek and hiking up his eyebrows.

Steve shrinks, face burning.

“Hello, Captain Rogers,” you introduce yourself with a lovely smile, “I will…need my hand to make your suit, sir.”

His open-mouthed impression of a fish is cut short by standing at attention, releasing the seal of his thighs. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

“Very polite,” you mutter before turning to Tony. “Mr. Stark, was that entirely necessary?”

“For the look alone, yes. My god, I’ll pay you again just to watch now that he knows.”

You push off the platform and practically skip over to Tony, reading over his shoulder. “How did I do?”

Tony looks at the piece of paper. “Damn it. Spot on,” Tony grunts.

“And that means…?”

“That I leave you alone for the rest of the consult,” Tony whines. “Fine, but make it worth it, buddy. Lady gets paid by the hour.” He snaps his fingers playfully. “Dominica, let’s take room two, my dear.”

Steve’s not sure what to do with his hands and mistakenly remains up high on the pedestal while you pull out a notebook and sit at a small table.

“Oh!” You look up at him with tender, lively eyes. “You may step down now.”

He feet seem to thunder to the floor even against the carpet. “I didn’t mean to—I just assumed that—I’m sorry, Misses—”

“It’s Miss,” you correct him. “And don’t worry. You are not the first, and you won’t be the last. Have a seat, Captain.”

“Steve.”

“Steve,” you correct yourself this time. “I’ll tell you a secret. I prefer that most people assume a man runs this business. You get to see people’s true colors when they finally find out.”

That doesn’t help Steve’s hot flush of embarrassment.

“You are one of the good ones. I can tell,” you add, adjusting to a fresh page in the notebook and marking the top corner.

In the silence Steve asks, “so you already knew my size?”

“You aren’t so different from my standard cut.”

“No,” he allows. Of course, he should have known that seeing as everything he buys from your label fits him so well. He kicks himself internally while trying not to frown at his slip up. It is, however, easy to keep a smile while basking in the glow of yours.

You pop your shoulder up into a shrug, lips morphing into a wry tease. “And I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Amazing, Steve thinks to himself. You’re amazing…at what you do.

Your elbow rests against the table, hand cupping your jaw as you hold Steve’s gaze.

“Some even call me a master of the male form.”

His swallow is deafening, which only makes you happier, and he looks down at his knee, rubbing his pant leg while his face heats.

“But for today’s purposes—“ you lean back in your chair, twirling your pencil playfully, a magic wand in your brilliant hands “—why don’t you tell me what makes me your favorite designer so I can make you my favorite client?”

Why’d you have to be so pretty? Why do you need him for so few fittings?

Steve has to stop himself from spending a Tony Stark-sized fortune on clothing for the pleasure of walking into your store and seeing you alone—well, in the hope of seeing you at all. Dominica is very sweet, sassy in a hard ass mom kind of way, and she’s one of four total assistants you have at the shop. Steve’s met three of them.

There’s just only one of you, and you’re busy.

Between his duties with the Avengers, actually sleeping, and debating with himself about what constitutes looking desperate, Steve is lucky to have caught you in-house only half the times he visits.

And then he tore a shirt. In fact, he tore three shirts, and to his credit, two of them were by accident. The third…uh, there’s a chance that when Steve exclaimed “oh shoot, I didn’t see that nail poking out” that he 100% saw that nail and deliberately brushed himself against that wall. He also may or may not have deliberately done it in front of Tony, faking that it was no big deal, because now he has the excuse that Tony is the one who told him to go see you.

Yeah, Steve agrees, if you say so.

He’s all excitement and nerves again when he rounds the corner of your street, but then the adrenaline shoots through Steve’s veins for a different reason.

A squad car has jumped the curb in front of your shop, lights flashing, doors left open, and Steve can hear lots of tense voices.

It’s a stressful enough day without the uninvited guest. Not many people—who know how you work and are not assholes—would dare to show up within a month of the Spring Show, without an appointment, and demand a rush job.

A rush job on a custom suit that you explicitly said could not be rushed before its scheduled time, mind you, but the surprise visitor doesn’t care.

Richard Fisk is broad. He has dirty blond hair that falls in front of his eyes when he tilts his head to smile. He often travels with a whole team of other imposing men.

The son of Wilson ‘Kingpin’ Fisk, however, is a prime example of personality souring good looks. Where it’s bashful and adorable that Steve Rogers hides his smile, Richard barely bridles his menacing entitlement.

You hate him, but he’s not a person you can outright refuse. He makes all of your assistants uncomfortable. Fisk is needlessly hostile to Tarik, who is thankfully not here today; he’s a creepy dick to Abby, who you insist stays in the fitting room with Anja, your longtime client who trusts you to push the envelope tastefully for a redheaded woman in her sixties; and he almost made Jules quit because he couldn’t follow instructions during a consult. Dominica stands in as the perfect buffer when she’s here, but the eldest of the Tovarich Atélier employees is currently on the other side of the city for a VIP delivery.

Your busy, busy day just got much harder.

His trio of beefy entourage flanks Fisk at the front of your shop.

“Here for my suit, sugar,” he drawls, flicking his used toothpick into a corner on the floor.

He eyes Abby as she shuts herself and Anja away from his direct ire, and although this leaves you alone, it stops your worry for their safety in addition to your own.

“As it stipulates in the commission, we take at least—“

“Those little hands are free now, I see,” he spits, stepping within an few inches of your face. His breath is foul and hot.

The aggression has you stumbling back, smashing into a side table and knocking a box of supplies to the ground.

“How ‘bout you get to work.”

You take in a heavy, fortifying, and quiet gasp. “Per your order, the fabric is manufactured off-site because teal is not a standard color. It takes time to produce. This was made very clear when you signed.”

Fisk flashes that menacing smile. “We can wait. One of these fine men can…keep you focused till you do your job.”

The condescending tone and disrespect of your work ethic spark flames of rage in your gut. Even though terror still simmers beneath, it’s too easy to let an insult fly.

“You’re lucky I’m even making it. The all white one last summer was a stretch, but teal? On you? Not something you can pull off.”

He lunges forward again. “Keep up the cheek, and I’ll lock you in my basement until I get everything I—“

“Ma’am,” a cop bursts through the shop door, “we got a call…” The officer goes quiet after one look at Fisk.

Abby must have phoned after hearing you knock supplies down, and you’re grateful, yes, but police are of little help with this guy. Cops wouldn’t dare ruffle Kingpin’s feathers or his awful son’s by proxy, but if you roll over now, you’ll never get back out from under him.

The only way forward is to put your foot down.

“Mr. Fisk, I wouldn’t make you a black and white striped three-piece if you did chain me in a basement. You’re a spring, and I have standards.”

“Ma’am,” the officer warns, his partner standing nervously in the open doorway.

“What kind of professional would I be if I let you walk around looking like a mental asylum inmate? I’m doing you a favor!”

Richard brandishes another toothpick. “The customer is always right, sugar.”

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid to taunt him and yell. Being insulted and diminished doesn’t make you want to be smart though; it makes you want to be right.

Your hands ball into fists of fear and rage. “It’s my name on the label,” you bark, “and I could just refund you to get you the hell out!”

Now you’ve really done it.

The boy gangster’s face twists and his oral fixation goes limp in disbelief. No one talks to Richard Fisk that way, least of all women.

His men step between both the cops and their boss, leaving Fisk himself to grab a solid wood tie box from the nearest counter and fling it at your face.

Your arms fly up to block it, but nothing ever connects, nor is there a crash behind you.

An officer’s voice wavers from across the room. “Uh, I’m sure this can all be worked out. No need to…start anything.”

You’re ashamed to say that your hands are shaking when they return to your sides and reveal an entirely different bulky blond.

Steve Rogers casually holds the caught box in his hands, staring daggers as he shifts squarely in front of you to block Fisk.

“This doesn’t concern you, Captain,” the bully grunts. “Piss off.”

Steve strides forward to replace the box neatly and plants himself inches from Fisk’s face.

“Can’t do that. She’s expecting me.” He turns back to you. “Ready?” Steve asks with a tight smile.

You swallow down one iota of your alarm and clear your throat.

“Yes—” the word cracks but you hope familiarity will scare off Fisk for now “—thank you, Steve.”

That seems to be Captain America’s cue to handle everyone else at odds in the storefront. By the time you get control of your trembling limbs, Steve has shown Fisk the door and promised the officers that you’ll be looked after.

Abby peeks out of the fitting room, surprised to see only Steve.

“Did they send you instead?”

She opens the door wider for Anja to see.

The redhead quirks an eyebrow. “Call the police more often, honey. They’ve upped their game.”

The now bashful, broad blond tilts his head, rogue hair falling across his face. His blue eyes sparkle beneath long lashes while he apologizes for lying, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why he’d feel guilty.

“I…” Steve stumbles. “I don’t have an appointment. I just wanted to see you.”

Currently estimating four parts to this grumbling into the ether but who knows. I clearly cannot be trusted to estimate length anymore...

[Next Part]

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