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callmissrogers · 2 months

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There For His Girl | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short

Summary: Y/n has reached her limit. Work has been difficult. People have been short, and some just mean. It all brings her back to her childhood, and right now, she just wants to pretend to be ok. So determined to pretend she tries to push her concerned husband away.

WARNINGS ⚠️ This contains mentions of a toxic relationship with the reader's mother and quotes some of their arguments. If this is a trigger for you, please DO NOT proceed. It also contains angst, fluff, and comfort. Also, very little editing and wrote on my phone.

Steve Rogers x wife reader

Word count: 1,370

Notes: The next part in the That's My Girl series will be going up today or tomorrow. I was feeling the need for some comfort myself, so this is what I wrote. Hope you like it!

Y/n slammed the door, tears streaming down her face she pressed her back into the wall and slid down until she was a small ball on the floor.

"Why do I do this?" She sobbed hating herself.

Y/n had had a rough few days. It seemed like no matter what she did or said, people were short with her. Everything was going wrong, and after one mistake, which led to a snarky backhanded compliment from Tony Stark himself, well, Y/n was done. Usually, it didn't get to her like this anymore, but her emotions frayed to a breaking point.

Her dad always told her she wore her heart on her sleeve but she just thought her mom was right and that instead of enduring this made her a nuisance.

Why should she be so bothered when people utter unkind things to her?

Why can't she pull herself together?

"You're always start crying! Stop trying to make me feel bad"

"You're stabbing me in the back by trying to do something different"

"Don't you know I need you here? Stop thinking about yourself and making everything harder on me"

This and many other instances where y/n would be belittled, ridiculed, screamed at, lectured for two hours at 1 in the morning, and reduced to making herself as small and as unseen as possible while being a sobbing mess, had made her what she is today.

Too sensitive. At least that's what she told herself at times like this.

And why couldn't she just talk about it like a normal person instead of blowing something trivial out of proportion?

Literally five minutes ago....

Steve had come home the night before. Poor guy had been so tired that he fell asleep in uniform on the couch.

Y/n had been carefully tiptoeing around the kitchen so as not to accidentally wake him up. Intending to surprise him before heading to work.

She was supposed to be going over mission plans with Vision today. This was the kind of work that excited her. None of the agents would bother them while they were working, which meant that she could just disappear for the day.

She platted up breakfast and carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the sleep soilder.

Tho he didn't actually wake up until she set down his mug of coffee.

Eyes fluttering open he peered up at her groggyily. "Hi" He mumbled, pushing himself upright. "Hey sleepy head." Y/n said, trying to make her voice sound chipper.

Steve sighed contentedly as he stretched out his muscles before standing up.

"Mind if I go change clothes before I enjoy this masterpiece?" He asked. Y/n turned to face him, attempting to smooth down his wild bedhead and then said, "Go ahead"

He was back a matter of moments, settling down next to her and drinking deeply from his coffee.

"Thank you for this," He sighed leaning over and gently kissing her on the cheek. Y/n just nodded, trying to keep her mind on a healthy track she focused on eating.

"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked. Taking another bite, she thought about lying and telling him that she had had the best night sleep.

"Sorta" She said trying to stiffle a yawn. "What does sorta mean?" Steve asked turning to look at her. "Nothing really. I'm good! Nothing some strong coffee won't fix."

Steve placed his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. He studied the dark circles, the faint tint of bloodshot in her eyes, how she held herself and her fiddling hands.

"Hm," He said, his voice low in his chest.

Y/n knew exactly what he was doing, shaking his hands off her shoulders and standing up she said, "I should probably get ready for work."

Steve stood up, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "Y/n, you look exhausted." "I'm fine" "You're twirling your hair, which means you're not telling the truth." "Steve, c'mon I don't have time for this" "Y/n, it looks like you've been crying" She pulled his hand off her wrist and started to walk away from him, "I'm going to work." "Sweetheart, please just tell me what's - " "Steve! Please just listen to me and leave me alone!" She yelled, cutting him off. She ran off to the bedroom, and that's when the door slammed.

Steve stood there a moment, thinking about honoring her request and leaving her be. But his protective nature overtook him and he decided that the best thing to do would be to be there for his girl.

In the bedroom.

Y/n sat against the wall still crying into her hands, body trembling, thinking hateful thoughts about herself.

She heard Steve knock on the door, saying "Sweetheart, can I come in?"

When she didn't answer him, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

She could feel him kneeling down in front of her, "Sweetheart," He whispered, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear to which she only buried her face further.

The next thing that happened, was Steve scooping her up into his arms and settling down in the arm chair that sat in the room.

Somehow this just made her cry more.

"Oh honey, come on now. Take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth." He soothed.

After about ten minutes of this, her crying settled down, breath becoming rhythmic.

Once he was sure that she had calmed down enough to be able to communicate with him, he asked his voice low and rumbling through his chest, "Do you wanna talk about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

She nodded against his shirt. "Everything" she gasped. "Everything?" He asked, pulling her back so he could look her in the face. Dabbing away the leftover tears.

"I'm too emotional. Everything the last few days just hurts. I let everything get under my skin... I just. . Lately, people and Stark are just mean, or maybe I'm just too sensitive.. and now I've yelled at you, too." She said, trying to get up.

"Now hold on a minute, " He cooed, keeping her in place.

"What did Tony say?" "Nothing. I messed up and he was being sarcastic, but I'm such a mess that it hurt" she said her voice breaking. "Alright. Listen to me. One, you are not too emotional. The world tells everyone to button up and be cynical. You, my dear, are a light in all that mess. You do care and that's a very good thing -- I don't want you to listen to anyone that would belittle that, ok?" He asked getting a slow, uncertain nod in response. "Ok. Secondly, people can be mean, especially Stark. People also have power trips and want to pull people down to make themselves feel stronger or better. This means there's one thing you can always be certain of: Do you know what that is?" "What?" "They're wrong. Anyone who would belittle you to make a point or to win an argument or for any other reason, is just a bully." "But what if-" "ah. No what ifs. Thirdly, and this one is the one that's most important of the three." "Then why'd it come last?" She asked clearly beginning to feel a little bit better if she could tease him now. Steve simply rolled his eyes and continued,

"I want you to remember that when you're upset, you can always talk to me. No matter how silly it might make you feel, your feelings are safe with me." "Steve I just yelled at you for no rea-" "No. You had a reason. You were upset. I can see that and you know what that means? It means I can take it too. When I put this ring on your finger," He said taking her hand in his and running a finger across her knuckles. "I signed up for this. I'd rather have you get emotional than bottle things up and hide them from me."

Y/n looked down at their still intertwined hands and then back up at him. Nodding again and breathed out an "ok"

"Ok." Steve replied, giving her his usual comforting smile and kissing her forehead.

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months

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Milk and Cookies » Steve Rogers/Captain America

December 5th

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Steve Rogers x Wife/Mom!Reader with son James

Summary: Steve’s and Y/N’s 4 year old son can’t sleep so Steve lets him snack on milk and cookies.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, hugs and kisses, cuddling, nicknames for son (buddy, sweetie), pet names for Y/N (sweetheart)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

“Daddy!” Steve hears a little voice.

“Daddy!” He hears again with a small hand tapping his arm.

Steve’s eyes open to see his and your 4 year old son James standing on his side of the bed. He checked the time on his phone which displayed 1:32am.

“What’s wrong, buddy? Why aren’t you in bed?” Steve asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Can’t sleep.” James says with a pout.

“You can’t sleep?” He says.

“No.” James nodded his head.

“I have an idea.” Steve says, getting out of bed.

Steve picked up James and quietly went downstairs so him and James didn’t wake you up. Steve sat James on the counter and rummaged through the cabinets causing James to furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“What you doing, daddy?” James asks.

“Looking for the cookies.” He says.

“Cookies?” James asks, tilting his head slightly.

“Yes. Cookies.” Steve says.

When Steve found the cookies, he put them on the counter next to James and grabbed two cups and the milk from the fridge.

“Your grandma did this when I was your age when I couldn’t sleep.” Steve says as he poured milk in the cups.

“Your mommy did let you eat milk and cookies past your bedtime?” James asks.

“Sometimes.” He says with a smile.

Steve grabbed a couple of cookies, giving one to James. James took it from his daddy and dipped it in the milk and took a bite of it.

“Daddy, who was I named after?” James asks curiously.

“You were named after uncle Bucky. Daddy’s best friend.” Steve tells him.

“I thought his name was Bucky?” He asks confused.

“It is. His middle name is Buchanan, but he goes by Bucky.” Steve explains.

“Oh ok.” James eats the rest of his cookie. “Can I watch cartoons?” He asks.

“Normally I would say no, but yes you can. Don’t tell mommy.” He says.

“No tell mommy.” James says.

Steve cleaned up the little mess of cookie crumbs on the counter and put the cookies away. He picked James up off the counter and walked to the living room and sat down on the couch with him in his arms.

“What do you want to watch?” Steve asks, turning on the TV.

“SpongeBob!” James says excitedly, clapping his hands.

“Why SpongeBob?” He asks.

“Uncle Peter lets me watch it at his house and he’s funny!” He tells his daddy.

Steve chuckled at his son’s cuteness and put SpongeBob on. It didn’t take long for James to fall asleep. Steve noticed and grabbed a blanket from the other side of the couch. He carefully laid down with James on his chest and covered the both of them up. He wrapped his arms around him protectively and kissed the top of his head. Steve fell asleep soon after.

When morning came, you rolled over to wrap your arm around your husband only to find out that he wasn’t in bed. You got out of bed and went to James’s bedroom, thinking Steve was in there, but he wasn’t. You began to panic. You quickly went downstairs, but heard the sound of the TV coming from the living room. You went to the living room to see James playing with some of his toys on the floor and Steve sleeping on the couch which made you feel relieved. James looked up and smiled.

“Good morning, mommy!” James smiles.

“Good morning, sweetie!” You bent down to kiss his forehead.

“Daddy sleeping.” He says in almost a whisper.

“I see that.” You say.

You sat down on the couch and leaned down to give Steve a kiss on his cheek making him smile. He opened his eyes to see you sitting next to him. Steve sat up and gave you a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Do you want to explain why you were in bed when I woke up?” You asked your husband.

“James couldn’t sleep last night.” Steve says.

“Daddy let me eat milk and cookies and let me watch cartoons, but you’re not supposed to know!” James chimes in.

“Oh really?” You say, looking at your husband.

“I thought it would help him sleep.” He says.

“I did go back to sleeps!” James says.

“Well that’s good. What do you want for breakfast?” You asked.

“Pancakes!” James says with excitement.

“Alright. You two stay here and I’ll make breakfast.” You say, standing up and went to the kitchen.

“Thank you!” James and Steve say at the same time.

“You’re welcome!” You say back.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

-Bucky’s Doll

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neonovember · 2 years

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Loved loved loved the steve headcanon. If you’re in the mood, I would an expansion on the “steve is the type of man to never let you go to bed angry, even if you’ve both had a fight and he end up on the coach” because I absolutely agreed and I especially enjoyed reading that! Thank you for sharing this husband!Steve HC.

oh yes most definitely! His mind wouldn't rest until he knows you're at peace. Ask and you shall receive (i must say I did get quite carried away). I wrote this at 1 am so be aware of spelling :)

The Steve headcanon

My soul cannot sleep without you

The rumble of the car engine comes to a stop as Steve pulls into the garage of your shared home, the living room light is still on and if you weren't already irritated, you'd mentally smack yourself for being so forgetful. Bills weren't cheap, even on an avenger's salary.

Collecting the ends of your dress you shoulder your way through the car door, slamming it with an oomf for good measure. Steve, of course, shuts his door gently, and it leaves you even more annoyed with him.

Why is he not angry?

You don't dare look behind you as Steve begins to jog towards you, you fear the confusion that has been plastered on his face for the last 20 minutes would make you explode.

You're about to open the door until you remember, he has the keys, Steve is already one step ahead of you, fingers brushing past your elbow as he twists the golden metal into the door nob. You can feel his stare burning into the side of your face but you will yourself not to look his way, to see that look on his face that would have you conceding.

The smell of peppercorn and maple engulfs your senses as you enter your hallway, the soft air of familiarity fails to calm your tense shoulders however, as you pass the framed pictures of you and Steve over the years without so much as a glance.

Reaching your kitchen you notice the bouquet of orchids Steve had bought you earlier today left on the counter, in the rush to get to the compound's charity ball on time you had forgotten to find them a vase.

What flowers would she like?

You search through the kitchen cabinets before you grasp the clear glass, shufflingly through appliances and setting it on the granite counter. You unwrap the orchids, cutting the stems down to fit into the glass vase and filling them generously with water. Steve looks at you incredulously, arms folded as his eyes follow your movements.

"Are you going to say something?" Steve says, his melodic voice travelling through the house, bouncing off the glass vase yet failing to penetrate you.

You begin to clean the stems and spilt water from the counter, ignoring Steve’s attempt at conversation. Did he seriously not realise the brunette practically hanging onto his every word?

Steves's hand grasp your own, stopping you from wiping down the rest of the kitchen, he lifts your chin but your eyes remain downcast, fiddling with the string of the washcloth.

"Can you at least look at me?" Steve says, scanning your face that remained emotionless. His fingers glide across your arms to rest on your cheeks, and the feeling of his hands on you, after she'd touched them has you ripping them off of you. Scoffing, you throw the washcloth into the sink, before turning towards Steve.

"I don't understand, why are you upset? Did I do something?" Steve furrows his brows, his hands gripping his pants as if he's stopping himself from reaching for you.

You scoff at that, "You can't be serious Steve, you are one of the smartest people I know and you can't notice something happening right in front of you?"

He shakes his head, eyes squeezing as he opens them, you notice him scanning over the events prior, but it comes up empty and it has Steve looking more confused than before.

“What's her name, huh Steve? At least tell me her name” You whisper, arms folded as the shimmers of the dress begin to irritate you.

“What? Who?” Steve replies, stepping closer to you

“Who? The brunette who was hanging off of you the entire night Steven” You groan, you hated facing your insecurities, much less voicing them.

There is a momentary pause in Steve as his mind backtracks to the evening, sifting through the hundreds of faces he’d seen tonight, he finally realises who you're talking about.

Tony’s accountant

“Marianna?” Steve scoffs

“Yes, Marianna” You spit her name like poison, but you can’t seem to get her face out of your mind, she’s taken homage next to the laundry you hadn't gotten the time to do. The way her pantsuit fitted her elegantly, sophisticated and modern, she was the woman of the future. And you were just, well, you.

She could pull off a red lip, something that never quite looked good on you, and the very way she spoke told you she said very few words that didn't ilicitate constant adoration. She didn't need to fill the space with empty jargon, every word had meaning.

The constant comparison had followed you the entire evening, and the past insecurities that you had thought you'd overcome seemed to weigh you down like an anchor, pulling you into the deprecation you knew all too well.

It was fine, you’d get over it until she began to talk to Steve, your husband. you didn't miss the look on her face as they conversed, utter, pure amazement. You knew it because you wore it every day, Steve had a way with people, it's what attracted you to him in the first place.

You felt out of place as they spoke about diplomacy and business, and at that moment you had wished you actually listened when Tony pulled you into one of the many long rants you'd gotten used to.

She wasn't even mean to you as if the playground tactics were beneath her, but it didn't take her calling you a bitch to know the animosity that radiated from her every time Steve had tried to pull you into their conversation. You knew where you weren't wanted and you weren't about to make a fool of yourself. So you left them to it as you sat next to Natasha, who offered you a much-needed drink.

She had noticed your annoyance at Marianna the second she came over, as she always did, and for a second, you wish Steve would too. He was too pure too good, to take notice of the way Marianna got closer and closer to him or the way she bit her lip and laughed a little too hard at one of his lame jokes. The poor man thought she was being friendly, he was oblivious to her true motives.

Natasha held her grin behind an empty champagne glass, snickering when Marianna threw her head back for good measure. You had vented to her there, and she reminded you of the man Steve was. How he was absolutely enamoured by you and you only, how you had him wrapped around your finger so tight he wouldn't even think about looking at another woman that way. It was all things you knew deep down, but that didn't stop your brain from imagining the worst, that he was deep in an affair with his co-worker, and you were the dumb clueless wife who waited for him at home.

You wouldn't let that happen again, not after all those years of betrayal from an ex, you wouldn't let yourself be made a fool. Pride had a way of getting in between reality, and you let it stew you in anger until you were mad at Steve instead of her.

Steve shakes his head, moving closer to you,

“She's just Tony’s accountant, we chatted for a few, that's all doll” Steve replied, carding a hand through his blonde locks. Reasoning, however, doesn't seem to be on your mind tonight as you remember all the lies you've been told starting with she.

She’s just a friend, she’s just an assistant, she’s just...

“Well, she seemed to have taken your attention for the whole night, while I was left drinking champagne of all fucking things with Natasha. She was meant to go find her date for that night, but instead, she was with me” You replied looking towards him in anger.

“Well, I tried to include you in the conversation, but every time I asked for your opinion your mind seemed as if it was a thousand miles away!” Steve replied swiftly hands gesturing around.

“Yeah, because she was laughing every single goddamn time I opened my mouth, god Steve, can't you see what she’s doing?” You replied even faster, swallowing down the brick that began to form in your throat.

“What, what is she doing, I thought I was having a conversation with a colleague, but you seem to know better” Steve quipped, his jaw tensing and his shoulders seized.

“She wants you, and you’re either too blind to see it or already fucking know it” You replied, muttering under your breath.

Steve scoffs, shaking his head, eyes scanning your face as he remains silent.

“Is your silence meant to mean I was right?” You yell, tears beginning to gather on your waterline and you have to pinch yourself to get force them to remain there.

Steve’s eyes never leave your face, the cerulean orbs darting left and right, and up and down as if trying to understand your benevolence. His arm twitches as if he wants to gather you into his embrace and forget this entire evening.

“How can you say that” Steve replies, after a short while, “I was courteous, polite for god's sake, you know I would never do that to you” Steve moves until his hands grasp your own. They’re warm to the touch like he always is, and they begin to soothe the coldness that has begun to take over your body.

It doesn't help though, instead, it reminds you of the times you've been told that your insecurities were imaginary, that the unfaithfulness in your relationship wasn't real. That you, instead were harbouring a secret, the anger you felt then turned to guilt at your own self for even accusing him of cheating. If you were told enough times that your reality wasn't yours, you’d start to believe it.

“Yeah well, the only person I can ever trust is myself” You whisper, spitting the words out and unlatching yourself from Steve's grasp. Steve looks down at you in shock, betrayal and hurt falling over his features, whilst yours turn to stone.

He closes his eyes before opening them again, nodding as if he accepted your anger.

“Fine, I’m taking the couch,” Steve scoffs, ripping off his tie and placing it on the counter, before walking into the living room the loud stomp of his shoes vibrating through the quiet house.

You turn to the discarded tie, grasping it into your palm, the texture of the material felt velvet against your fingers. It was a plain tie, one you'd find anywhere, but it was the first tie you'd ever gotten him. You'd gifted him many over the years, all of them more expensive and chic than this one but he'd told you you'd have to pry it out of his cold dead hands before he would give it up.

It was his lucky tie because you were his lucky girl.

Where you still now?

The satin pillow dampened with your tears, you hadn't waited to even close the door before you were muffling a sob that broke out of your throat. Since then, the tears never ceased, you had to shove your face into the covers to make sure Steve wouldn't hear you.

Sleep was fruitless, you had tried everything, but you lay there, like clothes on a washing line, wrung out and left to dry. Your mind wouldn't let the image leave, her fingers grabbing his bicep as she laughed, the way he grinned as his humour got praised.

Was that it, had she given him more attention? More than you?

A billion reasons clamoured your mind as you pushed your fingertips to your eyelids, wishing that you hadn't even gone to the charity ball at all, save the humiliation just for your mind only.

Deep down you knew, you knew that this was all the insecurities of your past coming forth from their hiding places. Steve was the best person in your entire life, he would never, his stupidly good heart wouldn't allow it. But that was just it, he was too kind and nice and good that people like Marianna were able to sink their claws and have their way with him however they wanted.

He thought they were being friendly, but they knew they weren't.

Hours seem to pass before you find the room illuminated with the light of your phone in your palm, your chest feels tight and uncomfortable and you don't know how much more of this you could take.

Tapping onto the folder named “him”, you are met with hundreds of photos of you and Steve throughout the years, starting from the very few dates you had before he claimed you as his, till the wedding night when you both had stayed up to take out the millions of pins in your intricate hair.

In all of them, every single one, Steve displays the same adored, content look of utter satisfaction and love, his eyes sparkled with it, like the sun glittering against the gentle waves and folds of the sea. An endless pool of longing that seemed to have depth only for you, to crash and fight and turn inside and out for you.

Your relationship was never easy, but Steve has always, always been the anchor that brought you back, he never gave up, even when you pushed him away and left him in the dark. Even when the fear of loss and hurt caused you to scream things you didn't mean and do things you shouldn’t have.

You flick across to a photo of Steve looking towards you, a soft grin lighting up his face as you held Clint’s newborn, you were cuddled up on a seat, your knees tucked into you as you were sucked into the guilty pleasure of red fat cheeks and baby fever.

Sam had captured it without Steve looking, sending it to you a couple of days ago with the words ‘Someone wants to be a daddy’. You’d laughed it off but each day you'd come back to that picture. Back to the moment when Steve looked like he had never loved something harder than you, as if it was his first time ever really feeling it.

He loves you, you know? I knew it the day he met you, he has this look on his face, where his eyes get all glazed over and his fingers are reaching for you. It’s like he can’t breathe until he can hold you, like his body will break in two and his heart will stop.

Natasha had told you that one night on the terrace unprovoked, with a beer in her hand and the moonlight falling over the both of you. She had been there from the start, had found you when you were still a shell of a person, back then you didn't even know what love was. You fear if it wasn't for her you and Steve wouldn't have ever met.

“Steve would never do that”

The sounds of her voice those hours ago ring in your head. It was true, your entire time with Steve told you but what thing, he was not your ex. He was kind, and soft and held you like you were glass and he'd crush you. And then suddenly, as if a switch had been turned in your mind, the light of a dark place turning on you realise how utter fucking foolish you had been.

Steve’s faith in you never faltered, even when it should have he never felt a reason to distrust you, it was foreign, it felt strange to have someone utterly and fully hand their trust and soul to you. And what had you given him in return? Accusations and anger.

Did he think now, that you did not trust him? That he had failed to show you how you should be loved? How he would never hurt you?

Those men from your past would never amount to Steve, and suddenly you felt you would die right in this room if you didn’t move. If you tell Steve he was enough and that you believed him and that the vows he uttered held true. Every hair on your body itched with this need until the covers were thrown across from your body and your phone was discarded on the bed.

You swung open the door, the cold hair hitting your face and you stumbled through the dark, you run down the hardwood stairs, the haunting reality of your actions following you, you had been so so foolish.

Steve is there, his frantic motions walking towards the bedroom freeze as he notices you. His shirt is crumpled and unbuttoned, and his golden hair is ruffled, the strands falling over his face as if he's run his fingers through it too many times.

A look of desperation and longing paint his features as he watched you, hands shaking at his sides as he sinks his canines into his reddend lip. You wanted nothing but to hold him now, and the thought bring you to tears, blurring your vision until you miss a step, your heart dropping into your stomach as you brace yourself, waiting to meet the cold hard ground of the kitchen floor.

It never comes, instead, heated, carded muscle wraps around you, and you the smell of Steve, of earth and pine cones has you crying into his shoulder.

He came to you, even when you had screamed at him to leave,

He came to you.

Fresh tears slide down your cheek and you grip Steve, whose fingers softly rub your back, hands tightening around your waist.

“M’ sorry, so sorry Steve, please” You hiccup, covering your face into his shoulder.

“Ssh, my sweet girl, I know” Steve whispers, never seizing his gentle caress. His hands lift your face from his neck, thumb gathering the tears at your waterline. “I know, it’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe for me, hm?

“In and out, can you do that for me?” Steve breathes out, eyes straining as he watches your shallow breaths ease into semi-normal respiration.

Without a word, Steve collects you in his arms and walks through the house until he enters the bedroom, shutting the door with his foot, eyes never leaving your face as he gently places you onto the now cold bedsheets.

You shudder, reaching for him as he slides in, arms wrap around your sides as he continues his light motions on your back, his fingers come to move your hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

You turn around swiftly, hands reaching to cup his face before you’re met with his reddened eyes, it's your turn now to brush away the tears before pressing your lips to his,

‘I should never have, Stevie, you, I-, you would never” You whisper against him his chest, the soft rise and fall lulling you into a state of haze and exhaustion. He presses his forehead to yours

“I just want to hold you now, god, I don't know what I will do if I don’t hold you” Steve replies muttering the words painfully. You wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself into his stomach as his biceps surround you. The sound of Steve's heartbeat, the rhythmic badum badum badum, engulfs you with a sense of tranquillity you hadn’t realised you couldn’t live without.

Steve, your sweet boy, was the one thing you couldn’t live without, without Steve, next to you, holding you between his arms, you don't think you would ever quite find sleep. Not anymore, not after him.

2K notes · View notes

verxn · 10 months

Text

Dating Tony stark would include

Him spoiling you

“Damn I don’t know what dress to pick they’re all so pretty”

“Alright you heard her ring them all up”

You don’t like when he spends his money on you

“You should really stop with the pointless purchases..”

*him around the pool with a whole bunch of pool accessories you called cute*

“It’s my money I can spend it on whatever”

you having to drag him out of the office

“I just get so sick and tired of you not eating the food I slave over the stove to cook”

he eats the food just only when it gets really late

Listening to your talk about how annoying the people in the office can get

“Candice decided it would be great to take my damn idea for herself, but she was moving too fast she didn’t even hear what we were doing next” you laugh

Peter being you guys adopted son

“Peter!!! hi sweetie”

“hello Mrs. Stark!!!”

Him getting jealous that you’re showing more love to peter and not him

“Peter don’t you have a home to go back to?”

“Tony that isn’t nice”

You having to put him in check for his attitude

“What you got your period or something you more moody than me”

Him building you a suit

“I’m not wearing that..”

You wore the suit

He was so happy

Felt like a mom sending her daughter off to prom

“Alright turn around for me again I need to send this in the avengers group chat to show them my wife is better than theirs”

Him constantly bragging about you to Steve

“Yeah y/n is so wonderful I’m so glad I can wake up next to her every morning”

“You know she got a promotion the other day I’m so proud of her”

“Tony I really don’t think that’s necessary to the meet-“

“But yeah she’s the light of my life honestly”

You meeting the avengers for the first time

“Guys this is my wife y/n”

“Hello I made cookies!”

Them telling on Tony about how he won’t shut up about you

“Really…”

“What I was just saying the truth”

Him looking at you suffer doing or taking out your hair

You get to the last few braids

“You need help?”

“Tony what help can you give me there’s only 2 braids left”

“Yeesh my bad just trying to help”

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buckyysdoll · 9 months

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— 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝 —

જ⁀➴ 18+ MDNI — summary: threesome with bucky n steve; a/n: this is short, and just filth; cw: kind of mean bucky?, oral (f!rec) -> eating pussy, dirty talk, praise kink — general sexually expl language? pairing: bucky x steve x f! reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

“A little wider, cmon doll” Bucky urged from just behind you, his legs framed on either side of your waist, and your back to his front. With his head against the headboard, he sat near upright, as did you; your hands were flat, palms down, on the generous plains of his thighs.

His cock was hard at your backside.

It was at that realisation — and the words he’d said so softly — that your knees were parting wider for the man who was lowered between them. Apparently that still wasn’t good enough, though, for broad hands settled at your thighs, warm fingers pressed with just enough pressure to the insides of each to keep you open, and still.

The touch was achingly gentle, yet assertive. A half-strangled keen left your throat.

You were surprised Steve had even heard Bucky at all from between legs that fought to clench around his head.

After all, since the man had first lowered his mouth to your slick, waiting bareness, he’d been quiet; hadn’t said a word, had only edged you close to fracture time and again. By now, you were close to weeping at the unrelieved ache of each failed orgasm, but all Steve made by way of noise was soft, little groans.

And you couldn’t speak either.

Indeed, words didn’t seem possible now and you just couldn’t face the attempt; there was only the ruin of each near-release before you ever had the chance to let go.

Through it all, Steve had eyes for nothing other than your warmth. Was gone and lost to feeling, lost to taste.

Just lost to you.

It was Bucky who had the control, whose low, silky voice guided both of you through it. It was Bucky who’d put that ring on your left-handed finger, but tonight didn’t care.

You were his girl, and didn’t good girls deserve more than one man to worship her body? Didn’t you deserve to have Bucky’s mouth in open kisses at your neck, as well as Steve’s on your sex?

“See? That’s it, now was that so hard?” Bucky’s hand came up to brush through your hair. And you couldn’t help it — you arched back into the touch with your neck bared, open and marked.

You gave yourself to him — to both of them — while your legs started shaking for the sixth, seventh time.

You were so close again, near enough that you could taste it. And knowing, Steve’s tongue slowed its assault.

You’d wanted this for so fucking long that you didn’t even know how it had happened. One minute, you’d been fantasising in the privacy of your own mind: fucked up visuals of a threeway parading behind your eyes — and you not daring to share it.

What would Bucky think, you couldn’t help but wonder then, if he knew what filthy and degrading thoughts had kept you up at night?

Kept you up with one hand at your mouth to keep quiet, and the other at your clit.

But his reaction hadn’t been the one that you’d expected. Not in the least. He’d barely said a word, just took your hand and gone to find Steve in his room at the compound.

The other super soldier had been pleasantly surprised to see you both at his door, his smile open — but at the embarrassed, flushed look of your face and Bucky’s own teasing one? He’d been in for much more.

But at least, judging by the tent in his jeans that had come at Bucky’s words, he was in. When his best friend had said in that easy drawl, “How’d you feel about fucking my girl with me, Steve?” the man’s eyes had changed, pupils blowing wide already at the sordid confession.

The very one Bucky had revealed as though remarking on the weather; as though to him, your shame was nothing.

So here you were, one man behind you with his hand at one breast and that mouth at your neck; the other had his own hands spread across your hips, tongue so thorough as he took his slow, sweet time in giving you head.

Steve looked up at you in that moment from beneath lowered lashes, lips swollen, hair mussed. And his answering smile was so arrogant you almost came then, at their mercy and loving it.

You thought of what it would feel like to have him inside you, as well as just Bucky — to feel so full within all of the places that seemed tailor made for these two men alone. Your mouth was empty, waiting; your sex clenched around the hard absence of them —

And it was to that thought of what they’d do that you finally came — came hard and fast, at last, in Steve’s waiting mouth to the sound of soft praise from behind you.

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saber-monet · 3 months

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don't worry I didn't forget about the tony girls

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enchantedsoulofmine · 2 years

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Domestic life...|| C.E||

Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

Summary: Sometimes life is just simple and amazing when your loved ones are around.

Warnings: Nah

Note: English is my second language!

~~~

The air around you felt warm and soothing. It felt amazing to be with your husband who has been away from you for the shooting of his new film ‘The Gray man’. Oh, how hard it had been for both of you sleeping alone in the bed, waking up without seeing each other and then going to sleep without talking to each other about how their day went.

If anyone would’ve said that you weren’t over the moon when your husband, Chris, informed you that he just landed at the airport, that would be a complete lie. You literally started to cry happy tears the second Chris informed you of his arrival.

When you reached the airport and your eyes met with a familiar face, you couldn’t hold your tears back and neither can Chris.

Chris has left a lot of time for shooting without you but this time it was different. You were one month pregnant. Chris was reluctant to go on shooting without you but you told him that you’ll be fine.

Chris called you every morning after waking up and face timed you every night before going to sleep. During the day, you both texted a lot. Ana was the witness to it.

When you both reached home, you both spent the entire day having a steamy, hot sex. You got a green signal from your doctor about having sex while you are pregnant.

In the evening, you both cuddled with some coffee and the Office.

~~~

Chris swayed with you in the kitchen along with the soft music that was playing, your laughter echoed in the kitchen where you and Chris were making dinner. Your husband’s hands wrapped around your waist while your hands rested on his shoulder.

‘I missed you a lot Chris’ you said softly, looking in his green eyes.

‘I missed you too, my love’ he smiled at you and rested his palm on your belly. ‘How have you been, lil peanut?’ Chris asked your baby, you rested your palm on the back of Chris’ hand and intertwined you fingers with his.

‘It feels so good to be with you, Chris’ you mumbled. Chris cupped your face with his hands and leaned towards you, pressing his lips against yours and kissing you softly yet passionately.

‘I love you’ you both said in unison as soon as you pulled away from the kiss.

The sweet moment between you and your husband was ruined when a burning smell filled your nose.

‘Shit! the Pasta’

~~~

Hey! new fic. Do leave your feedbacks!

#chris evans writing #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #chris evans #steve rogers #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans one shot

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holylulusworld · 11 months

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Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman

Summary: Steve tries to make amends.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Inspired by Bryan Adams’ Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman

<< Part 1 - Truth or dare

To really love a woman

To understand her, you gotta know her deep inside

Hear every thought, see every dream

And give her wings when she wants to fly

Then when you find yourself lyin' helpless in her arms

You know you really love a woman

‘Let love guide your way if the storm brews deep within your heart.’ You read out loud. “As if love could fix how I feel.” You shake your head and slam the book shut. “Nothing changed. Nothing will ever change.”

“Fucking great Rogers. Thanks to your little fight with your wife my mother and wife are at my throat every day. Fix this shit,” Rumlow yells loud enough to make the maid passing Steve’s office by flinch.

“This is all your fault! You said I’m weak because of my feelings for Y/N. I only showed everyone I’m not whipped!” Steve bites back. “Maybe you should learn to shut your mouth and not talk shit about other people’s relationships.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell your wife she means nothing to you. No wonder she was all over me at the party.”

“If,” Steve is out of his seat and in Rumlow’s face in the blink of an eye. He glares at Rumlow, snarling at the man claiming to be the man you want, “you ever mention my wife again, you are fair game. I’ll kill you, your family, and everyone you ever met in your pitiful life.”

“Calm the fuck down, Rogers,” Rumlow grunts. He shoves against Steve’s shoulders and sneers at your angry husband. “I don’t want your wife. She’s not my type. I don’t do uptight and difficult. I like me an obedient little thing.”

“Doll, please stop ignoring me. I know I broke another promise, but you must-“ he sighs deeply as you switch through the channels. “We will go to Paris soon. I had to take care of business. You know how often a deal must be taken care of.”

“I only know that everything and everyone but me is important to me. You asked me to forgive you, and I tried. But you didn’t lift a finger to show me I mean more to you than an easy lay. So, go ahead and take care of business.”

“Y/N, please understand that this had nothing to do with me and you, doll,” he softly says. “I’m truly sorry we couldn’t go on that trip. Please talk to me.”

“Have you ever loved someone else but yourself?” you question. “Did you open your heart completely to someone, Steve?”

“I love you,” he says without hesitation.

“That’s not what I mean,” you drop your eyes and shake your head. “Have you ever really loved a woman, Steve? Did you take your time to get to know her inside and outside? Not just to make her spread her legs or to stick around.”

You get up from the couch to leave the room. Steve grabs your arm, holding you back.

“Baby doll, I see my future in you, and no one else. You own my heart,” he cups your face with both hands, gently cradling it. “Only you, Y/N. Whatever you believe is true, you’re wrong.”

“You’ve got a strange way to apologize,” you grin at Steve. “Telling me I’m in the wrong is not the way to earn my forgiveness. You should be on your knees, begging for forgiveness, showering me with attention and gifts.”

“Oh, I know you’d love to see me on my knees for you, or-“ he dips his head to brush his lips over yours, “when I go down on you.”

“In your dreams, Mr. Rogers.”

“You forget that I know you better than you know yourself,” he leans closer to brush his lips over your cheek. You shudder as he presses his lips against yours.

“Steve, you’re not forgiven. A kiss and sweet words won’t make me forget what you said that day. You hurt me deeply, and everyone knows about it. My friends. Your friends. Even Rumlow.”

To really love a woman

To understand her, you gotta know her deep inside

Hear every thought, see every dream

And give her wings when she wants to fly

Then when you find yourself lyin' helpless in her arms

You know you really love a woman

“Y/N,” his features sadden as you try to pull away. “I only ever felt weak and helpless in your arms. I knew, just knew you’ll be the death of me. Not literally, of course. But the old me. A cold man wanting nothing to do with feelings, love, and shit.”

“You don’t look different,” you say as you look Steve up and down. “Your hair is a little longer, and your beard thicker. Maybe you got some grey strands.” He huffs when you run your fingertips through his hair.

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N. The man I used to be has died the moment you entered my life. I’m glad he died. You’ve changed my life for the better.”

“Steve… that’s… disgustingly sweet. Do you want me to hold you, and pat your head,” you coo and pat his chest.

“If I didn’t love you so much, you would find yourself bend over my desk, my hand bruising your ass,” he threatens.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

He leans closer again to press his lips to your temple.

“I want to go to Paris next month. No discussion.”

“I give you everything you want.”

“If you want to show me you’re truly sorry, you won’t give me what I want. But what I need…”

You got to give her some faith, hold her tight

A little tenderness gotta treat her right

She will be there for you, takin' good care of you

You really gotta love your woman, yeah

And when you find yourself lyin' helpless in her arms

You know you really love a woman

Tags in reblog.

#Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman #steve rogers #mobster!steve rogers #mobster!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x wife!reader #angst

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goldensunflowe-r · 1 year

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Chris Evans Age Gap

Masterlist

#chris evans masterlist #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans one shot #chris evans headcanon #chris evans fluff #chris evans #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x smut #chris evans fic recs #chris evans fic rec #chris evans imagines #chris evans fic #masterlist #steve rogers #avengers fic rec #chris evans age gap

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i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 5 months

Text

A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother. Part 29/?

<Part 28< >Series Masterlist>

Warnings: 18+ readers only, swearing, SMUT, oral (m-receiving)

Something shifted behind you slowly teasing you from your peaceful slumber. Then you felt something warm and wet press against your shoulder, lightly moving across your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you remembered, Steve. He pulled you closer to him until your back was flush against his firm chest.

"G'mornin', Princess." Steve murmured against your ear in a husky tone.

"Morning," You whispered and looked back to him over your shoulder with a tired smile.

"How do you feel, My love?" Steve asked as he pressed another kiss to your shoulder.

You hummed, "Happy." You smiled as you felt Steve smile against your neck where he was kissing you. "What time is it?" You asked turning over in his arms so you were facing him.

He smiled, "Don't worry about that, My love." He said as he gently cupped your face with his left hand and pressed his lips against yours.

You moaned softly against his lips as you felt his hardening cock press against your thigh. You gave a small roll of your hips, desperate to feel more of him as memories of your escapades from last night flooded your mind.

You pushed Steve back by his chest and caught your breath as an idea came to you. "Hmm, Steven... may I... Use my mouth on you, again?" You asked feeling your cheeks flush.

Steve's smile grew, "You're getting bolder, My love." He teased making you roll your eyes.

"I don't have too, Steven." You pouted.

"No, no," Steve pushed himself up in bed so he was sat up against the head board and spread his legs, holding the bed covers up. He nodded, "Please your king." He winked at you.

You rolled your eyes and giggled, "Really, Steven." You eagerly moved between his legs and came face to face with Steve's glorious cock. You licked your lips as you took him in your hand, glancing up at Steve as he let out a soft moan. His head falling back against the pillows as you did.

You may be inexperienced, but watching Steve fall apart because of you in such an intimate way was just so beautiful to you and it was becoming one of your favorite sights. Although, you were getting tired of Steve being able to make you blush so easily. How you wished you could see his cheeks tinted with a blush as he looked away from you shyly, like he had done the previous night when the two of you-

You began grinning to yourself as an idea filled your head. "My gods," You hummed and gently began to teased his cock with your fingers, "You are so beautiful, My darling husband."

Steve gulped, his throat dry as he met your gaze. "Not as beautiful as-" His words died on his tongue and were replaced with a breathy gasp as you placed a kiss to the tip of his cock. "My love," His eyes fell shut and his mouth dropped open as you lightly ran your tongue over him.

You let out a soft moan as the taste of him began to drive you wild. You ran your tongue up and down his length, circling around his bulbous head before sliding it back down.

Steve groaned, "Please, My love."

You used the hand that held his cock to lightly stroke him as you pulled away from him. "Look at your queen," You ordered with a new found confidence.

Steve gulped as he looked at you. Once your eyes met, you gave him a playful grin and wrapped your lips around the tip of him.

"Fuck," He watched as your head bobbed up and down, your lips and tongue sliding up and down his cock, "Feels s'good. Don't fuckin' stop." Steve's head fell back against the pillows as a deep moan fell from his lips.

You moaned around Steve's cock as you looked up at him, the dishevelled look he had as he ran his fingers through his hair turning you into a mess.

"Fuck," Steve panted, "My love..." Steve groaned loudly as you did something he never thought you would, you pulled your mouth of his cock and began to suck lightly on his balls. Steve threw his head back with a loud moan as you continued to move your hand up and down his cock and suck his balls. "Fuck!"

You pulled off his sack with a giggle, "Did you like that, Your Majesty?" You asked as you reached up and used your hand to fondle his balls.

Steve panted heavily as he nodded. "Please, don't stop, My love." He whimpered.

You took Steve into your mouth once more and started to suck a little harder and faster.

A deep moan left Steve's mouth as you started to twist your hand around his shaft, "Fuck! Oh fuck. Don't stop!" Steve groaned and began to raise his hips to meet your mouth. "Fuck! Princess... My love, I'm going to-" Steve cried out as he came.

Pride filled your chest as you watched your king, your husband, the man you loved, fall apart by your touch.

You pulled off him carefully and wiped your mouth as you sat up, pushing the covers off you. "How was that, My darling husband?" You smirked at him.

Steve lifted his head from where it rested and looked up at you, "You know damn well how that was." He smirked back at you as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his lap. "Now it's-" A knock on the chamber doors interrupted Steve making him growl in frustration. "Go away!" He yelled back before pressing hia face into your chest.

"Steven," You scolded him playfully, "We should see whom it is." You cupped his face in your hands.

Steve groaned, "I'd rather we didn't." He said and kissed down between your breasts making your breath hitch. Another knock made him groan against you. "Bastards." He muttered and moved you beside him. "COME!" He yelled out in frustration as he covered the two of you.

The door opened slowly and in walked Jarvis, the Steward, followed by a couple of servants carrying trays of food and drink.

"Good morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness." Jarvis bowed to the two of you as the servants placed the trays down on the table before bowing themselves and leaving. "I thought you'd like breakfast in your room this morning before I sent in your Lords and Ladies to help you get dressed for the day." He smiled.

"Thank you, Lord Jarvis... But, actually," Steve cleared his throat, "If it's okay with you, My love," Steve smiled at you, "I'd rather we dressed ourselves this morning."

You raised your eyebrow at him, "But I'll need help putting my dress on."

"I know, but I can help with it." He said as he began grinning and leaned in, "After I've had you naked and writhing beneath me for as long as possible this morning." He whispered in your ear making you gasp.

You nodded, "It's, fine with me." You looked back over to Jarvis trying not to blush too much as you gave a shy smile. "Hmm... Perhaps, you could have someone draw a bath and inform our Lords and Ladies to take the morning off."

Jarvis nodded. "Of course, Your Highness. I'll leave you to your breakfast." He said as he bowed to you before leaving.

You grabbed the pillow from behind you and smacked Steve in the chest with it taking him by surprise. "Don't say stuff like that when we're not alone, Steven." You playfully scolded him as you repeatedly hit him.

Steve laughed as you did, eventually grabbing the pillow out of your hands and throwing it haphazardly to the end of the bed as he took hold of right wrist. "And why not, My love?" He said as slowly laid you backwards, holding your arm above your head as he laid over you. "Can you not control yourself?" He smirked at you and leaned down to kiss your throat, "Can you not think of anything else other than the way my cock feels as it fills your sweet little cunt, Princess?" Steve ran his nose up your troat, smiling to himaelf as your breath hitched and you tried to roll your hips against him. Before you could lean up to press your lips against his, Steve pulled back and sat up. "We should eat."

Your mouth hung open in disbelief as you watched him in all his naked glory move over to where your breakfast was waiting.

He looked back at you with a smug grin, "You think I didn't notice you teasing me earlier?" He winked and dropped down into a chair. "Two can play that game, My love." He gave you a mischievous smile as he popped a couple of berries into his mouth.

Yes they can, you thought to yourself as you gave Steve your own mischievous smile.

------------------------------------------------------------

"I want you to promise me something, Little Princess." You smiled at Morgana kneeling in front of her.

The time had come for you to leave York New and make the long journey to your new home. It was a time you had always feared but now you were beyond excited to start the new chapter of your life.

Morgana sniffled, having spent the last five minutes crying in your arms. "What is it?" She asked.

You looked over at an equally teary eyed Peter with a smile. "I need you to listen to, Peter, okay?" You smiled as she nodded. "He's promised me, he's going to teach you all our ways and all the tricks we know to annoy your father." You smiled up at him. "Isn't that right, Peter."

Peter nodded with a laugh as your poor brother groaned. "That’s right, Your Highness." He winked at Morgana making her laugh.

"It won't be an enemy or old age that kills me, it will be one of you three. I swear!" Tony huffed dramatically making you all laugh.

"I'm going to miss you." Morgana threw her tiny arms around your neck and squeezed you as hard as she could.

"I'll miss you too, Little Princess." You whispered and let her go. You looked up at your brother with a teary smile. "I'll miss you too brother."

Tony took a hold of your hands and helped you up wearing his own teary smile. "Don't. I for one can't wait to get rid of you." He chuckled, pulling you into a hug. "You'll always be 'Little Princess' to me." He whispered against your ear before kissing your forehead. He looked over at Steve as he stepped back. "Make sure you look after her, Steven. Or we'll have trouble." He warned.

Steve nodded as he came to your side. He'd stayed back to give you time to say your goodbyes to your family. "Don't worry, Tony," Steve smiled lovingly at you as he slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. "My mother's already given me a tongue lashing on your behalf." He rolled his eyes making you giggle.

"I always said she was a smart woman." Tony smiled. "Now, go. You've got a new life to start together." Tony picked Morgana up and placed her on his hip.

You nodded taking a deep breath. "Okay..." You turned to Steve. "I'm ready." You smiled at him.

Steve nodded and took. "Then let's go, My love." He said and lead you over to the royal carriage.

With one last look at your family and the castle that had been your home, you bid them goodbye and climbed into the royal carriage with Steve. As the door was closed behind him, Steve turned to you and took your hand in his. "I know you're sad, My love. But this is a good thing." He pressed a kiss to your knuckles and reached across to wipe your fallen tears.

You nodded with a sniffle, "I know it is..." You smiled at him. "And I am so unbelievably excited for our future together... But it's the thought of not having Morgana running around causing chaos." You smiled, "Or hearing Tony's terrible jokes... And not having Peter," You wiped away more of your tears. "Not having Peter there to tell me I'm being stupid every day is... It's scary." You laughed to yourself.

He nodded as he reached out to cup your cheek. "I know it is, My love. But try to remember that, although you weren't born there, Brook is your home and you have a new family... And, with Sam running around I'm sure there's going to be equally as much chaos and Bucky will be more than happy to call you stupid... He tells me all the time." Be teased making you laugh. "That's better." Steve winked at you before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "So, my beautiful wife and soon-to-be Queen of Brook, ready to go home?" Steve asked playfully, giving you a wink as you grinned at him.

You nodded, "Let's go home, Steven."

Taglist:

@letsdisneythings @smile1318 @readawaythereality @dad-supremedeactivated04291992 @marebare21 @imjustanotherperson @slutforchrisjamalevans @summersong69 @gretavankleep37 @calimoi @noonenuts @nighttimestan @sarahbellesaurus @bloodyinspiredfuck @coffeebooksandfandom @lewisroscoelove @oceansrose2002 @teambarnes72

(tags aren't working for some)

#chris evans #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #King Steve Rogers #King Steve Rogers x Princess reader #King Steve Rogers x Princess Stark reader #Steve Rogers x reader smut #King Steve Rogers smut #King Steve Rogers x Princess reader smut #A Princess. A Queen. A Wife. A Mother.

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neonovember · 2 years

Text

steve rogers as a husband headcanon!

things about husband!steve that just makes sense

steve isn’t big on pda, thinks affection should be something private, he’s old school like that, there are some exceptions however, some very fun ones

even though he might be abit of an aversion to pda, steve will make sure that you know he’s just there

whether it be holding your hand, or his palm guiding you through a big crowd, he always feels a need to keep you at arms length.

steve is extremely protective of you..like bordering on possessiveness. he’ll even go as far are ignoring his own morals to make it sure, that people know his yours. It’s just that you’re the one thing that ever really grounds him back to earth, in moments where he gets lost in time and memories from before

“Hey I’m just saying, if you ever get bored of popsicle here, the iron suit is ready for you” Tony smirks, his legs perched against the coffee table. The Avengers are scattered around the tower's living room, half drunk and the other half trying to. You feel Steve’s grip on your waist tighten, and from the corner of your eye, you notice his orbs turning a ink-black. He leans across to Tony, whispering into his ear, the words falling out of his mouth like wine and into Tony. Tony’s eyes bludge comically, his throat bops as he swallows, nodding along to whatever Steve was saying, looking at you. Steve smiles, into his ear, it’s eerie, the way his canines glint under the high ceiling lights. You wish to the gods that you were given Bucky’s hearing but without a second, as if you had dreamt it in front of you, Steve is back beside you, only this time you feel his fingers slip between your thighs.

for some reason, I don’t get the whole “Steve being a horrible cook” trope, I genuinely think he’s an amazing cook and BAKER! that man can bake a mean batch of cookies

steve loves loves loves, calling you mrs rogers, or his wife. the first time he said it was well before you both uttered your vows, he just knew. oh and if you call him your husband? poor man will probably be hard for the rest of the day

steve has a breeding kink. we all know this, it’s practically attached to his file along with super soldier. but what most people don’t know is that he fucking lovess when you’re pregnant, it’s like senses go on overdrive until all he breathes, thinks and eats ;) is you.

steve has this fear of abandonment, mostly because he was, by his own country for a century. It seeps into his relationships, you’ll see if when he comes home from long missions and it’s as if he’s walking on eggs shells. His shoulders are tense and his holding his breath as if he’s just waiting to find the house bare and empty and your belongings gone. He gets really sensitive then, all murmurs and soft kisses and just holding you to remind himself you’re here.

there will absolutely be a time where steve fucks over the kitchen sink. the dirty dishes left abandoned (should I write this?)

steve can get a little anxious, and so his wedding band is something he’ll ALWAYS play with, he’ll twist its around his finger as a kind of reminder.

you love to tease him by bringing him lunch at the compound, wearing one of those sun dresses he adores because it gets him so. fucking. hard. He wont ever tell you though, just have to deal with it until he can get home, and by then you already panty less and on your knees waiting for him.

steve will probably force you to train with him, even if you can kick ass, he’ll pull a fitzgerald and force those trainers on you. poor boy is just scared that something will happen to you when his not there, plus, seeing you fight kinda turns him on. (just like anything else you do really)

Steve’s really bad at technology, we all know this, but he absolutely will try to learn how to use a phone so he can send you texts and updates throughout the day. he’ll take random pics of tony and sam when their not looking, take some Facebook mom ass selfies, take pictures of things he wants to draw and ask you if they’d look nice, he’s mind just constantly finds it’s way to you

cockwarming with husband!steve. that’s it

you help steve open up to the new things in this century, take him out to help him ease himself into the real world. people forget he never really got that chance, he died in one war only to be pushed into another.

it’s through you that steve learns that he’s obsessed with avocado. on toast, in milkshakes, everything, he’d literally a millennial

when things get too much, you’ll draw a bath and the both of you will just sit in the steaming water filled with some bubbles, candles illuminating the room instead of lights, and the ceiling to floor windows open. skin to skin helps steve calm his nerves, and it’s not abnormal for you both to stay in that position for hours

steve still gets shy around you, no matter how many years he’s been with you, he’s still that boy from brooklyn with a heart too big for him

steve has absolutely zero self control when it comes to you, say something nice about a necklace you see passing by? It’s on your neck the next day. Hears the sound of a slight rumble in your stomach? Steve’s whipping out his apron and making you eat something

steve is the type of man to never let you go to bed angry, even if you’ve both had a fight and he ends up on the coach it won’t be too long before you both find yourselves in the middle of the hallway missing each others touch

“babygirl, honey, my wife, doll, gorgeous”

you take priority over a lot of things in Steve’s mind, he’s never ever late to dinner, he’d rather lose his leg than disappoint you

sundays are for sex and sleeping

steve fucked you one time really hard over a drawer or ottoman and BROKE IT. now he’ll spend saturdays carpenting reinforced drawers, counters and bed frames ;)

makeup sex, and face and thigh riding <3

steve always feels as if he’s leaving a part of himself at home or with you whenever he leaves, he’s constantly watching the clock and bouncing that leg of his to get back to you.

steve would probably let bucky watch him fuck you..maybe.

even though I believe steve would be really possessive I also think he could easily be very private about his relationship with you. like that scene in aou where we meet Clint’s family? fury will probably drive up to some big cabin house with the avengers in the back and they’d be confused af when they open the door to find steve and you cooking in the kitchen with your kids running around the place.

“How much longer Fury, my backs starting to ache with this stiff as seat and Bucky’s feet in my face” groans Sam, leaning away from Bucky’s towering figure. “It should be around the corner” motions Fury, and just as promised the avengers pull into an expansive cabin house, elegant with is softened wood and timber gate ribboning around the land that seemed to stretch endlessly. When Fury had told them that he needed to grab something, they didn’t think it would end up with corny 70’s tunes cranking out throughout the car, one and a half hours from the city.

“This looks…lived in” Nat remarks, her fingers brushing against her holister, ears perked for any signs of human activity.

“Yeah, Fury, are you having us raid some lumberjacks generational home” Tony barks, stretching out his arms

“Just shut up and follow me” Fury sighs, before stepping through the gate and following the stone path. Wiping his boots across the mat, his reaches for the door, opening into the hallway of the strange home.

“Wipe your shoes, she hates when you trek mud in” Fury calls before walking in as if he owned the place

“She?” Thor whispers, what they all but Bucky thought. They followed unspeaking down the hallway leading to an open floor, the scene infront of them had their mouths hanging.

There Steve, their stone faces leader, fucking sautéing onions on large brimstone stove, laughter falling from his lips as you whispered into his neck. You were a sight to see, a dress falling onto your body like silk, cascading againts your curves, your hair was in an updo, curls draining your face and a bright smiling lighting up your eyes.

You were absolutely gorgeous, and to see Steve react to your affection in such a way told them you were more than just an old friend

“Bucky!” You smiles, reaching for the dark haired man, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“Hey sweet girl” Bucky smiles, gripping you.

Sam looked towards Bucky in disbelief, eyes shooting bullets at Steve in mock betrayal

“Really? You’re going to tell the ex murderer about your little secret life but not your saviour?” Sam mutters, before steve laughs gripping his chest.

“Sam meet my wife, doll now you know why I don’t let them near you” Steve whispers into your ear, making you giggle.

Sam reaches for your hand but you ignore it, going for a hug. “Oomf, hello to you too” Sam laughs hugging you back

“Hey Fury” You smile, waving a hand towards the man who nods in return.

“You all must be Natasha, Thor, Clint and Tony?, it’s so great to finally meet you” You speak, dimples pressed into your cheek

Clint seems to be the only one who snaps out of the rest of the avengers stupor, “I see you’ve pulled a Barton” He jokes, hugging you.

Once the rest of them finally greet you, along with some condescending remarks from Tony about “how the hell did you land her?!” The avengers sit around the table, drinking beer and eating good food and getting used to seeing Steve with his wife on his lap.

that’s all I have for steve at the moment, I’ll probably add way more later but I haven’t been uploading in ages and thought this would a quick little head canon for our spark spangled soldier!

p.s! requests are always open ;)

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bluemusickid · 2 years

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In the end, it's you and I

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, soft moments, breeding kink, that's it. 18+, MINORS DNI.

A/N: So, @maladaptivexxdaydreaming sent me this GIF and oh GOSH. It evoked something inside me. So here goes, ig.

I have done away with a taglist, so if you wish to keep up with my work, follow @lexiscyberlibrary and keep the notifications on!!

18+ blog, Minors not welcome, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are all mine. I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, and occasionally Wattpad. I do not give anyone permission to reproduce, copy or translate my work. If you are found doing so, trust me, I will put my law degree to good use. Likes are welcome, reblogs are much appreciated!

"Shh."

It wasn't just a sound. It was a sentence in itself. If you'd asked your past self about the sound, she would've said it annoyed her; big time. To be honest, one only hears the "shh" sound as a toddler or a child. Hearing it as an adult is just considered rude.

Or so you thought. That was before you met Steve. It seemed like that was his favourite thing to say.

"Shh."

That's all he said, as he held you, rocking you gently as you held onto him, crying your heart out.

"It's ok, sweetheart. Let it all out."

You clung to him, reliving everything. You lost her. Your best friend, no, your sister almost. She had succumbed to the deathly disease. You had held her till her last breath, just as Steve was holding you right now. You tried to stop, but the tears kept coming. You held on to him, like you were holding on for dear life.

"Shhh." He whispered, pressing soft, feather light kisses into your hair. You didn't even know how much time passed as he held you like that, occasionally gently rocking you. You woke up the next morning, in his bed; a glass of water on the nightstand. He'd slept on the sofa outside, keeping a watch on you all night.

In the morning, he'd made you breakfast; your favourite waffles and OJ. There were no words spoken, but the quiet domesticity spoke volumes.

"Shhhh, sweetheart." He'd muttered through gritted teeth, covering your mouth with his palm as a moan slipped through your lips. A boring black-tie affair in Captain America's honour couldn't be spiced up in any way, yet here you were. Being pounded into within an inch of your life just behind the stage, where your husband would be getting an award.

You squeezed your eyes shut, a myriad of emotions flowing through you. But at the top of the list, there was only one coursing through your veins. And that was lust. You held onto his blazer with a death grip, wrinkling it in the process; but you didn't care. He was making you feel too good for you to give a damn.

His grip tightened on your waist, as he literally pounded you into the wall, hitching your leg on his hip. You gasped behind his mouth as he crashed his lips to yours, swallowing the sound.

You watched your husband from the audience, as his cum leaked into your ruined panties. Guess there were perks to being Mrs. America after all; a boring black-tie affair finally became interesting.

Running your fingers through his hair, you begged, beseeched him to let you come before you were caught in flagrante delicto. You could sense that he, too, was close, as he came with a grunt, his hot spend coating your walls; his hands gripped your hips a little too tightly. You came around him with a squeak; your walls tightening around him, trying to make him a part of you.

"Shhh, princess." You heard him mutter.

You checked the clock, which read 3:00 AM. Groaning, you sleepily made your way down to the kitchen to warm up a bottle of milk. You groggily walked to the nursery, ready to take over. Just as you neared the room, you heard Steve softly sing to your baby, his voice lilting through the silence of the early hours.

"Don't cry, my princess. Daddy's here. He's always gonna be here for you. And that's a promise."

Your daughter started fidgeting again, searching for food as you walked in and handed him the bottle, knowing better than to get in the way of daddy and his precious daughter, who had managed to wrap him around her little finger in a short period of 3 months.

You went back to bed, hearing his muffled "shhh."

A few years ago, if someone had shushed you, you would've punched them. But ever since you met Steve, there couldn't have been a more sweeter sound.

Oh gosh. I wrote this in a day, flat. Never have I written this fast, and I have Ali to thank for that. Hope y'all like this!! 💕😘

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buckyysdoll · 9 months

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๋࣭ ⭑ — 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐜𝐬 — ๋࣭ ⭑

જ⁀➴ — 18+ MDNI — summary: random little hcs for a few marvel characters, based on the title above — x f!reader —includes: bucky, steve, tony, natasha, wanda, mcu! peter parker; a/n: idk how i feel about this one?? mentions of dark! bucky + dark!steve, sexual innuendo, sort of hints at dark!natasha xx

MAIN MASTERLIST

જ⁀➴ — 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 — his jaw sets, eyes immediately harden on whoever you’re with. because of his past, and his own insecurities, jealousy comes so easy to him — he tries hard to hide it, doesn’t want to seem possessive of you, but the thoughts come and are hard to stop. the guy that won’t stop flirting with you must obviously have some kind of death wish, and you know that he’s gonna be more of the silent, brooding type — well, just cos it’s him <3 so, he’ll just keep a hand on you for the whole entire night, if he can — held at your waist, on your thigh, in your own; anywhere to show the world that you’re his <3

╰┈➤ — in other thoughts, dark!bucky will also stay silent for most of the night, but when you meet his eyes throughout you’ll see that look, and your stomach will flip. you’ll know without a doubt that you’ve now landed yourself in trouble, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t turn you on to think of what he’ll demand for it later <3

જ⁀➴ — 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 — i don’t really feel that he’d get that jealous with you, to be honest; or yes he would, but he’d be more casual about it — your communication has always been open. in general, he’s just secure enough in your relationship that he doesn’t feel too threatened by others, so he’ll just settle for an arm at your waist and try to talk with you, to join in your joy.

╰┈➤ — or, alternatively, hc for dark!steve — things turn out a little bit different. he’ll easily play along with whatever you’re doing, join in with your conversation; you’ll think that he’s fine, until you’re back at the compound and suddenly he’s not quite so chatty anymore. you’ll ask him what’s wrong; “was it something i did?” and he’ll just shoot you a look. slowly walk over, take your chin between thumb and forefinger and just say — “yes, it was” in that soft, deadly whisper that has your legs clenching on nothing, already.

જ⁀➴ — 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊 — is instantly catty. doesn’t even care how he shows it, either. tony’ll resort to his old, trusted coping mechanisms of sarcasm, arrogance, disdain; makes it quite plain just what he thinks of the presumptuous asshole at the bar. trust me when i say he will not try mincing his words — he’ll make it embarrassing when you’re only just talking to someone at one of his stark business functions. tony won’t stop grilling him, hiding his ire behind a tight lipped smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes — doesn’t know how to show what he’s actually feeling even when in an established relationship. the truth is just that he would much rather push you away — before you did it, first.

જ⁀➴ — 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅 — shows her displeasure through the weapon she often does use — blatant sex appeal, beauty. she’ll seek out the first person she can flirt with, even if you’re just absently chatting; you have to know, in her cunning and conniving way, that two can play at this game. you know it’s a test though, judging by the way that her eyes are on you all the while, even as she toys with some random guy’s tie or lean’s close to whisper into a girl’s ear. all the while she’s gauging your reaction with each move that she makes, seeking the sweetness of your breaking point. filthy jealous sex will ensue <3

જ⁀➴ — 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅 — like bucky, is inwardly damning the bastard to hell, but will keep it contained. she’ll just lay her head on your shoulder as she stands close beside you while you’re talking to them, presses small kisses to the side of your neck, or your hand; subtle ways to reclaim your attention

જ⁀➴ — 𝐌𝐂𝐔! 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 — okay, this boy doesn’t have a dark bone in his body, and will just be inwardly wrecked. he really doesn’t want to feel jealous, he hates it; has no claim on who you can talk to. peter knows you have every single right to spend time with whoever, that the choice is just yours; and yet he still can’t ignore the slight pang in his chest as he watches your head tip back, as he sees how you laugh at something he hasn’t said — at the dickhead from one of your classes. he’ll try to blame it on just indigestion, anything, even as his throat constricts with something ugly. it’s an emotion that he doesn’t dare to quite define just yet, so will instead settle for seeing you happy in whatever form that takes. even so though, just like wanda, i see your soft boy doing subtle things for your attention — playing with your hair or laying his head in your lap, just so needy and sweet.

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buckystevelove · 1 year

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The sluttiest man I have ever seen.

#steve rogers moodboard #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers x reader funny #steve rogers x reader fluff #chris evans x you #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #ana de armas

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 month

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📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Just when he's given up on ever finding Mr. Right, Steve meets the - seemingly - perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

A.N.: It's not as murdery as it sounds 😅 But, as per usual: minors DNI. It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

1. Specialty Ingredients

Steve watches, mouth literally hanging open, as it happens again: his date is stomping away, mad.

He just called Steve a scrawny, cock-teasing twink for making out a little on the sidewalk, but then declining to go back to his place to hook up. The guy pressed the issue and Steve got frustrated and told him tersely that he wasn't interested because they just met, okay? That went over like a lead balloon.

Steve scowls as the jerk disappears around the corner at the end of the block. “Well fuck you too,” he mutters, feeling put out—and okay, a little hurt, too. He’s not a cocktease. He’s not scrawny.

Well, maybe that second one is kind of true, but Steve hates how guys will act like they’re into his small stature when they think he’s a sure thing, but then get all derogatory and mean about it once he tries to tell them he’s looking for more than a hookup and wants to take it slow—and not even hetero people slow; gay guy slow, which is super fast in comparison! Steve just wants to get to know a guy for once before sleeping with him. Is that really so bad?

He huffs and turns around, walking dejectedly back to his car. Another handsome asshole, another hope dashed, another pathetic date. He really does have the worst luck, and he’s getting plain sick of it. He checks his phone before he drives away.

Clint: Well???

Steve sighs. He types back a reply to his friend

Steve: another dud

Clint: dude …

Steve rolls his eyes and chucks the phone onto the passenger seat. He turns the key in the ignition, the radio coming on to an old eighties love ballad that just worsens his sense of dejection. “Fucking figures,” he mutters, putting the car into drive.

He leaves the song playing though, because sometimes wallowing is called for.

The next morning, Steve wakes up in a glum mood. He tries to focus on his work for most of the day, rather than his horrible luck with dating, but as he paints the hours away he winds up pouting about it anyhow. He sinks further and further into a depressing pit of self-pity and despair.

Clint texts him, asking if he wants to go out and sing karaoke or something, and Steve knows he’s just trying to cheer him up and all, but he really can’t stand the thought of being cheerful right now.

Steve hates gay guys, he thinks, stomping over to the crappy small sink in his crappy small apartment’s kitchen. He runs the water and rinses off his brushes with a vengeance they don’t deserve. Gay guys suck. Steve hates how shallow they all are, how vapid and self-centered. All they want is to go clubbing and fuck around and that’s it. None of them want a real relationship, and they think Steve is boring for wanting to have a meaningful conversation instead of suck their dicks right away. He gets grumpier about it the more he thinks, and he even has the thought that at least if he were straight he could find someone with feelings, a desire for genuine connection. “Gay guys suck,” he mutters to his poor, abused paint brushes.

Nevermind that Steve himself is incontrovertibly homosexual and has no choice in the matter of what his dating pool consists of. After all: ‘Haters gonna hate, players gonna play’. “Gaays gonna gay, gay, gay, gay, gay.” Steve sings the tune under his breath. He just hates it, hates it all. He’s sick and tired of playing the game.

He sends Natalie a nastily self-deprecating text:

Steve: Know any of your girlfriends who might want to date a faggot?

It’s not nice, and he knows she won’t like him using that word in that context.

Natalie Potential Rich!! Buyer: another douche huh?

He sighs and texts back an apology with a huggy emoji.

Steve: Sorry 🤗 Just frustrated. All the good ones are taken and I’m not interested in the skanks who’re left over.

Natalie responds with the “Give that man a Snickers” Diva-meme, which makes Steve realize that he is, in fact, hungry. He needs to get something to eat. He needs to focus on himself for a change. Maybe it’s finally time to stop looking for Mr. Right and just enjoy Steve Rogers. Maybe he should join a gym, start a new hobby, anything to fill up his time with himself rather than another person.

He goes into the kitchen, thinking that he’ll make something yummy and binge watch a new series off his Netflix list, but scowls at the barren interior that greets him when he opens the fridge door. Nothing good to eat. “Fuck,” he mutters. He’s got to go to the grocery store now before he can sit down with a meal and relax.

And it’s raining outside, too. Just his fucking luck.

His phone ‘pings’ and he looks over at where he’d set it on the counter. The screen is lit up with a new notification from Grindr:

Henry super liked you!

He picks up the phone and opens the app. Henry’s profile pic is only from the neck down, showing off his abs. Steve rolls his eyes. The next picture is his lower half, a pair of tighty-whities stretched over his erection making it lewd, but still within the app’s no dick pic rules. The third pic is of his bare ass in a jockstrap.

Steve spends a second more than he intends appreciating the guy’s backside, but then he growls and jabs his finger at the screen to reject the guy. He’s fucking fed up with this entire thing! On a sudden, right-feeling whim, he exits the app and holds his finger down on the screen until all the icons start wiggling with their little x’s. He quickly proceeds to delete Grindr, Scruff, and Hornet from his phone.

He’s fucking done with dating. He’s giving up. Steve is just not meant to find Mr. Right. Not this year, anyway. He feels lighter after deleting the apps, and he slides his unburdened phone into his pocket with a sense of accomplishment and a shiny new idea: He’s not going to date for a whole year. He’s going to make this The Year of Steve.

Fuck yeah.

He goes to the hall closet to grab his umbrella and rain boots.

The walk to FreshMart is only four blocks from his apartment, but he still arrives at the grocery store a little damp from the gusting rain. He shakes off his umbrella by the door, grabs a basket, and directs himself towards the produce aisle. He’s added fingerling potatoes and some asparagus spears to his basket, and has just started perusing the meat section when he hears a man’s voice say,

“Hey, have you ever had this?”

Steve looks over. The guy is holding up a package of bloody red … something. Steve blinks. “Um …”

The stranger twists his lips and shakes his head, looking at the meat. “It’s venison. I thought I’d freak my sister out with something a little different.”

“Your sister?” Steve asks, feeling very odd at being asked his opinion in the middle of the meat department. He looks between the package of raw meat and the stranger—He’s unusually handsome, tall and strong-jawed, brown hair styled in an effortlessly flattering cut. Steve licks his lips nervously. “Um, isn’t that like, deer meat?” He takes a step closer to peer down at the label. “Huh.” He didn’t know regular grocery stores sold that kind of thing. “That’s … exotic,” he says, for lack of a better word.

The stranger chuckles. “Yeah, well. I actually don’t eat animals, so …” he shrugs. “But her and her husband and kids are total carnivores. Thought I’d bring something other than my usual bottle of wine.”

“Oh.” Steve peers up at the man, trying to figure him out. The man smiles sheepishly and Steve winds up smiling, charmed, if somewhat baffled. He looks the man in the eyes and is taken by how pretty they are, how intense. Damn he’s good looking. “Well I, ah, couldn’t tell you what it tastes like. I’ve never had it.” He makes a face. “Like I said, it’s exotic.”

“Oh I love to cook with exotic ingredients. I’m kind of an amateur cuisinier. Or at least I try to be.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve gestures to the blood package. “But you ah … you don’t cook only vegetarian stuff?”

The man grins (and shoot, he’s got an unfairly attractive smile, too). “I guess I just like to satisfy other people’s appetites,” he says, lips parted enticingly. And then his tongue darts out in this totally casual, should-be-illegal sort of way. “I take it you’re a meat eater,” he says knowingly.

Is that a double entendre? Steve thinks it might be a double entendre. Yes! he wants to scream. Yes! He is 1000% a meat eater. He gulps as the guy’s eyes flick down and back up his body in a heated onceover, and Steve may not always be the brightest bulb in the box, but he can tell when he’s being considered. Is this guy really flirting with him? Here? In the freaking grocery store? Is that even a real thing that happens, anymore? Steve flushes and pulls his shopping basket up higher in front of himself, like a shield. “I–I see,” he stammers. “Well … um … yeah.” God, he’s hopeless.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Venison’ll probably be … different.” He nods at the stranger, awkward and aware that the other man isn’t moving away. “Well. Good luck.” He turns and vacantly peruses the meats, pretending that he’s more invested in searching out the perfect porkchop than he really is. He hears the guy’s footsteps moving away.

“Fuck it,” the man says, and turns right back around. He takes a deep breath. “I like your boots.”

“What?”

The guy nods downwards. “Your rain boots. They’re really cute.”

Steve looks down at his feet. His rubber boots are pink and printed with the golden girls’ faces. He looks back up at the stranger, stunned. No straight guy on planet Earth would ever say such a thing. “Um. Thanks.”

The guy holds out his hand, friendly, like he’s not aware he’s acting weird as shit. “I’m James.”

Steve probably stares too long at the offered hand, before he hurries to shove the handles of his shopping basket up onto his one arm so that he can take the guy’s—James’—hand and shake it. It’s pleasantly large over his own hand. “Steve.”

James smiles. He’s arrestingly handsome when he doesn’t smile and Steve feels like an even weaker creature when he does. “Sorry,” James says, looking down shyly. “I uh, I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?” Steve asks, keenly aware that he may just be about to be propositioned. He winces at the idea of having to turn down another good-looking jerk.

James tilts his head. “Would you …” He hesitates, eyes flicking up and over as a woman passes them. She turns and goes down the soda aisle. He looks back to Steve, distracted. “I was gonna be crazy and ask for your number,” he says, flushing. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before James is scrubbing his hand over his embarrassed face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re probably not even—” He looks back to the soda aisle where the woman had gone. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, and starts to walk away. “Human disaster in the meat aisle. Just ignore me, please.”

“Wait!” Steve blurts. James turns back around. “Why do you want my number? Were you gonna ask me out? Like on a date?” He uses the word purposefully.

“Well, yeah.” James looks apologetic. “Sorry. I know it’s weird.”

It is weird. But Steve is kind of charmed by the guy’s odd methods. He promptly pushes away his resolution of The Year of Steve. “James,” he says, taking a step closer. “Um, you can. Have my number.” He peeks up at him shyly. “If you want.”

James' happy-surprised-enthused smile is the best one yet. They exchange numbers.

Clint: Wait, wat do you mean, the grocery store??

Steve: he came over and just started talking to me.

Clint: … that’s weird, man. That’s shady.

Steve: actually it was kind of cute. Kind of idk old fashioned.

Clint: Kind of weird. Whats his Insta?

Steve doesn’t hear from James for almost three days. He alternates between finding it refreshing, and being disappointed. Maybe Clint’s right. Maybe the guy was just a weirdo.

Then, on the third day, Steve is leaving from his morning shift at Michaels when he hears his phone ‘ping’ with a notification. When he sees the name “Weird Meat Guy” on the screen, his face splits in a grin.

Weird Meat Guy: Been thinking about you since the other day.

Happy butterflies come to life in Steve’s stomach at the flirtatious tone of the text. His first instinct is to force himself to ignore it for at least thirty minutes, so that he doesn’t seem overeager. But then he thinks, fuck it, just like James had said in the grocery store before turning right back around to ask him out.

Steve types a reply.

Steve: hey stranger. Yeah I was wondering how that venison worked out for you. 😂What’s it taste like?

Weird Meat Guy: I don’t eat animals, not even for my sister’s Sunday dinners. But she said it was fine. Not as good as regular old cow, though🐄🥩

Steve: not surprising.

There’s a bit of a pause where he can see James is typing and deleting and typing again. Then,

Weird Meat Guy: Do you want to go out tonight? We could grab drinks or something?

Steve bites his lip, bad memories of “casual” meetups and “just grabbing drinks” dates and what they’ve always led to, in the past.

Steve: let’s go out to eat. At a restaurant or something. A real date.

James texts back almost immediately, and his answer makes Steve beam like a fool.

Weird Meat Guy: Hell yeah. What’s your favorite kind of food?

Steve can’t help it; he has a good-verging-on-great feeling about this guy. He tries to tuck away his expectations that this time it’ll be different. He can still do The Year of Steve if or when this goes wrong. He’ll just try this one last time though. Just once more before he swears off being a “meat eater” for the year.

He tells James that he really likes Italian food, and the next thing he knows, James is sending him the link to a really nice and expensive Italian place in Brooklyn. Steve thrills at James' enthusiasm, and grimaces at the three dollar signs that Google has lined up beside the restaurant’s name.

He tells James okay, figures he’ll just tighten up his budget a bit for a few weeks after.

James meets him inside the restaurant, at the bar. He’s already got a drink in his hand. “It’s an old fashioned,” he tells him sheepishly. “Sorry to start without you.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I just get a little nervous when I ask a cute guy out to dinner.”

Steve freezes, but then his mouth twitches. “Oh,” he says. “You, ah … you think I’m cute, huh?”

James grins and winks at him in a way that is devastating and should-not-be-allowed. “Yeah. I sure do.”

Steve is charmed.

The hostess seats them in a dark and cozy booth in the back of the restaurant. Steve settles in and looks around, impressed. “This is a really nice place,” he says, genuinely meaning it but also kind of anxious to open his menu and get a look at whatever prices garnered a $$$ on Google.

“Yeah it’s one of my favorites.” James is grinning at him from across the table. “I was so glad you picked Italian, cause then I knew I had the perfect place to bring you.”

Bring you. Steve looks down and tries not to smile too obviously at the words. “I like it so far,” he says, peeking up coyly at James so that he knows Steve doesn’t just mean the restaurant.

James seems to get it, if his expression is anything to go by.

They open their menus and Steve’s stomach drops at the forty dollar appetizers. Shit. He wishes he’d found a way to mention to James that he’s kind of a starving artist.

“Do you like mushrooms?” James asks, oblivious to Steve’s internal panic. He’s looking across the table at him with eager eyes. “They’ve got the best stuffed mushrooms I’ve ever had. I think they put crack in ‘em.”

Steve laughs despite himself, then decides ‘fuck it’ once again, and closes his menu with a nod. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s do it.” He’ll live frugally for a month if he has to.

James orders them the appetizer and an entire bottle of wine that he knows by its specific name and year. All Steve makes out is the “‘94 ” part of it, and his heart rate picks up. He’s about to really worry about how the hell much a place like this is going to charge for an entire bottle of wine that’s older than he is, but then when the server delivers it and pours for them, James shoots him a wink and tells him, “S’my treat.”

Oh. Steve’s heart flutters as much at the gentlemanly gesture as it does at the possibility that maybe James will pay for the whole meal. A guy can dream.

The mushrooms arrive and Steve gushes to James about how he was right: they are amazing. They get to talking, covering the standard ‘first date’ questions, and it’s stupid and awkward like it always is; but also it isn’t, because James seems to laugh about the awkwardness of it, too. And that makes it kind of fun.

James is thirty-seven to Steve’s twenty-seven (Daddy kink: activated). He has a place in Manhattan but his sister lives in Brooklyn, which is why he was shopping at the FreshMart in Steve’s neck of the woods the other day. He’s got one parent still living, grew up with a loving family but “pretty poor” in Jersey. He hasn’t been in a relationship or even been on a date in “a really long time.” He wants to travel more but he lets his work consume him too much. He doesn’t eat animals.

He’s also really good at making the whole first-date interrogation-phase go smoothly. It’s fun with him, Steve realizes, not awful and strained like it usually would be. Their conversation just seems to flow naturally and easily, both of them smiling almost continually as they chat and joke.

Steve is utterly charmed.

“Okay,” James says, as he pops another mushroom into his mouth and then talks around it. “I’ll do another boring one: what do you do for work?”

Steve gulps and delays answering by taking a sip of the wine—a red that downright tastes expensive. “Um, well my passion is my art. It’s what I went to school for.” He tucks his lips in and shrugs. “But, ya know, ‘starving artists,’ and all that. So I work part time at Michaels, too.”

James doesn’t look like he’s thinking that Steve’s a stereotype or a loser or anything like that. “That’s awesome!” he says, sounding like he genuinely means it. “What kind of art? Or like, what medium do you work with?”

Steve blinks. Nobody ever asks him good questions like this, like they actually care and want to dig deeper into who he really is. “Um, mostly acrylics. Some watercolors and pencil-charcoal sketching,” he says, flustering at the way that James pays such close attention to his answers. “I like to mix it up sometimes, but mostly it’s those three.” He shrugs. “I sell online. I have one really loyal patron—she keeps me afloat. S’nothing that special.”

“Sounds like you know your stuff,” James counters, not letting him insist on his own mediocrity. “If you went to school for it and all, then you must be pretty good. Don’t you have to, like, audition for art school?”

Steve blushes and looks away. “Well. Yeah.”

“And I bet you get all your supplies cheap with the side gig, huh?”

Steve stares at him. “Yeah,” he says, impressed. “Employee discount.”

James nods sagely, as if he’s ever had to worry in his life about the utility of an employee discount. He might’ve grown up poor, but he’s clearly well-off now. Steve can tell that the suit he’s wearing is a custom tailored deal, and the wine he’s ordered for the table has a bouquet of oak and dollar bills. “I think it’s really brave of you,” he’s telling Steve, looking like he admires him or something ridiculous like that. “That you’re following a passion like that? That you can just …” he makes a shaping gesture over the table with his hands, “make something with your own two hands and then sell it? That’s incredible.”

The more James talks, the more Steve gets his hopes up that he might actually be A Really Great Guy™️. Steve can hardly stand to take all the compliments, so he turns the question back around on James: “What about you? What do you do for work?”

James hesitates. “... I’m a surgeon.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open, making him look like A Gold Digger™️, probably. He closes his mouth. “Oh. Wow, that’s … that’s neat. Medical school, then, huh?”

James smiles through a wince, as if being a freaking doctor is no big deal. “Yeah. It was rough for a few years, but I got through it. I’m in a good place now. It’s pretty smooth sailing.”

“So do you work at like a hospital or something?”

“Not exactly.” He stares at him for a long moment, then suddenly says, “Gosh, I’m just really attracted to you, Steve.” Steve blinks, taken-aback. He reaches for a hurried sip of his wine and tries to think of a response to the weird shift in conversation. “Sorry,” James hurries. “I just felt like I had to say it.” He gives Steve a tender look rather than a lecherous one, which is a welcome change from the usual script. “I think I might really like you.”

Steve flusters and averts his eyes to the tabletop, peeking back up at James a few times. The guy is totally focused on him. It’s intimidating, but not in a bad way. “Yeah,” Steve eventually manages to murmur. “Yeah I think you might be nice.”

James teases him about the ‘nice’, and they fall into easy banter again as they finish the mushrooms and open up their menus to choose their entrees. Steve’s once again fixated on the prices, and he immediately starts trying to see if there’s anything under sixty dollars …

“By the way,” James says casually, not looking up from where he’s reading his menu. “I know this place is fucking ridiculous: I got it covered.”

He says it all easy and nonchalant, like it’s no big deal that he’s treating Steve to what’s probably a three hundred dollar dinner, and Steve once again feels like he’s on a date with a hero, a real gentleman. “Kay,” he says smally, feeling delighted and hopeful as heck on the inside.

He orders a seafood linguini, and James gets a spinach and cheese tortellini dish. “This is so good,” Steve practically moans around a mouthful of his food.

James makes a noise of agreement, stuffing another tortellini shell in his mouth. “Mmph.”

“So you really don’t eat any meat?” Steve winds up asking. “Like, not even fish or chicken or anything?” Where does he get his protein? James looks like he keeps in good shape …

James chuckles. “Nope. Haven’t touched the stuff for … gosh, almost fifteen years.”

“Wow.” Steve spears up another shrimp from his pasta and wonders if it offends James. “So like, is it an ethical thing or just …”

“No, no. I just kind of had this epiphany one day—while I was tenderizing a thigh, mind you—that all the things I was eating were living creatures, that we’re animals just like they are.” He makes a thoughtful face as he considers it. “It’s not a moral viewpoint so much as it is a …” he trails off and his eyes return to Steve with an apologetic shrug. “I dunno. My viewpoint shifted that day. Couldn’t shift it back. I’ve tried so many other things now, animal meat just doesn’t taste the same anymore.”

“I can respect that.” Steve wiggles his fork that’s speared with a juicy scallop. “As long as you don’t mind this.”

“No, no way. Don’t you remember where we met?”

Steve snickers. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. What was it you said? You like to ‘satisfy other people’s appetites’?” He chances a flirty look across the table. “Wasn’t that how you put it?”

James chews, smirking, and he winks at Steve again. Goddamn. “Yeah,” he says lowly. “Yeah. I sure do.”

On the sidewalk outside the restaurant they stand close together, bundled in their jackets. Neither one of them seems to want to leave. “Thanks again,” Steve says. “For dinner. It was really nice.”

“My pleasure.” James takes a step closer, so that they’re almost toe to toe. “I was so excited to go out with you,” he says. He brings a hand up and traces the side of Steve’s face with the backs of his fingers, not looking at Steve’s eyes but rather where he’s touching his cheek. “You’re different,” he murmurs. "And I knew it the moment I met you."

Wow, what a fucking intense thing to say. Steve … doesn’t hate it. “I am?” he whispers, watching his breath swirl on the air between their faces.

“Mmhm. I can tell.”

Steve shivers and fights the urge to press into James’ touch on his cheek. It feels unduly intimate, and they’re already so close. “I was excited for tonight, too,” he confides. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck with dating. Was getting sick of trying, to be honest.”

“But?” James asks softly, and Steve looks up at him, for once feeling open and honest enough to just admit,

“But I didn’t meet you on some app. And you liked my stupid Golden Girls boots.” James chuckles and Steve looks up, taking in his face up close: the dimple in his chin, the creases of age that’ve barely begun to collect at the corners of his eyes, that one tiny patch of grey in his beard. It makes him all the more insufferably handsome. “And you’re charming,” he whispers. “So there’s that.”

James smiles softly. “Aw, shucks.”

“I think you’re a really nice guy, James. I’d like to see you again.”

James' smile widens hopefully. “Yeah?” he says, leaning even closer.

“Yeah. I think, well … I just think …”

“What?” James touches his face again, this time palming his cheek. “Tell me.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’.” Steve finally lets his eyes slip closed, enjoying the feeling of James’ hand on his skin, the cologne he gets a whiff of when they’re standing this close. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you. Still haven’t told me what you were gonna say.”

Steve smiles sadly. “Oh, I’m just getting my hopes up about you, is all.” He’s still got his eyes closed when James kisses him. He inhales sharply through his nose, surprised. But he doesn’t pull away, and they just … keep kissing.

Eventually James cups his face with both hands and Steve moans, because the way James is kissing him feels so natural and good. He feels like he can taste James' good intentions as they make out softly, right there on the sidewalk.

When they part they’re both panting a little, heavy-lidded eyes flicking over one another, gauging, desire tinged with uncertainty. “That was …” James breathes.

“Yeah,” Steve says, and they both stare at each other for another long moment, before Steve says, “Fuck it,” and surges in to grab James by his jacket and kiss him again, this time harder. James whimpers needily into his mouth, and heat shoots through Steve’s belly at hearing it, arousal flaring to life faster than he can handle. Suddenly his pants feel a little tight, and he wants James so badly he can hardly stand it. “Oh man,” he groans, pulling away from the kiss, grimacing at himself for what he’s about to say. “I really, really never do this,” he promises against James' lips. “But … Do you want to go back to my place?”

James' eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

They kiss eagerly one more time and then hurry off, giddy, hands clasped, and headed in the direction where James says he’s parked his car.

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