Each Side (Known)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader
Word count: 2181
Summary: a request from the lovely @donutloverxo, to write something about Steve and the reader hosting thanksgiving as a married couple. Contains soft smut and fluff, and lots of other Marvel characters (everyone is alive :) ).
Warnings: smut (18+), references to sex straight away, swearing, reader gets a food baby
Masterlist
Hi! I had so much fun writing this, I know it doesn't really make sense that everyone is alive and together but I don't care! I couldn't wait until Thursday to post, also I've never actually celebrated Thanksgiving before so apologies if it doesn't seem authentic, I had to do some research haha. This is genuinely my favourite thing I've written so far - I hope you all enjoy!
- Liv xx
Steve woke to an empty bed, clutching at blankets and pillows. He groaned and turned onto his stomach, sheets sliding between his thighs.
He thought about last night. Her thighs, so softly enveloped around his waist. The delicate skin between them. Her mouth, gaping slightly open, and eyelashes fluttering on cheeks. The heaving of her chest. And the sounds that she made, breathy and urgent.
He buried his smile in the pillow laying by his head, kicking his legs about in the sheets. He could hear her now; the radio in the kitchen was on and she was singing along. He swung out of bed and grabbed some joggers to throw on over his boxers.
Wandering into the kitchen, he found her dancing around with a spatula. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt and shorts. Her hair was messy and there was black smudged around her eyes. Facing the counter, her head was swaying and hips doing a cute little jiggle. Steve leaned against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, waiting for her to notice him.
She eventually did whilst performing a twirl, eyes widening and scurrying forwards to grab at his hands. He was tugged into the kitchen to join in, settling for a decidedly amateur swing style dance, punctuated by many stumbles. She raised one of his hands above their heads, spinning under their arms. Steve kept them raised and did one himself, grinning at her cackles of laughter. They swayed slowly together, out of time with the music, gazing with lazy eyelids.
“Will you help me with the big guy?” she asked. Her eyes flitted towards the turkey sat on the side. It was gigantic.
Steve glanced at the mess she had already made on the side, chopping boards overflowing with vegetables and flour from the pastry scattered everywhere. “You don’t need to do this right now, honey. We’ve got ages,” Steve replied coolly, his hands running up and down her sides.
She frowned. “No, I don’t think you understand. Seriously. We need to get this in the oven right away. There’s literally so many people coming.” Her hands were loosely resting on his shoulders, thumbs stroking the nape of his neck.
“It’ll be fine, I promise. It’s seven right now, we have six hours,” he reassured her.
“Steve.” Her hands slid round to hold his face, eyes wide and pleading.
“Yes?”
“It’s important to me that we get this right. Please help me.”
“We will. I will. Can we at least have breakfast first?” he asked.
“Okay,” she replied.
He kissed her on the nose. And then on the mouth. “Eggs?”
“Yes please.”
Steve grabbed a pan and got started with whisking a few eggs. [Y/N] went back to her chopping board.
“Do you think we should have gotten two turkeys?” she asked.
His head turned to give her an incredulous look. “No. Definitely not. It’s fucking massive.” He waved a fork at the bird.
“But we’ve got two super-soldiers to feed. And a hulk,” she argued.
“Bruce eats a normal amount. Plus we also invited an android. I don’t think Vision eats anything.”
Her protests fell silent. She just stared at Steve’s back, watching the muscles there flex as he threw bread into the toaster and stirred the eggs. He looked back at her and she gave a lazy smile, chin resting on her palm.
“Finish the stuffing, sweetheart,” he teased.
“You’re very sexy,” she replied.
*************************************************
The meal was loud, with everyone chatting and laughing. Steve and [Y/N] got all the food ready in time and everyone arrived with warm hugs and smiles. They had invited basically everyone on-world that didn’t already have plans. Clint was having his own thanksgiving with his own family. Tony, Pepper, and Morgan were celebrating with Peter, May and Happy. But pretty much everyone else they knew were cramped around their kitchen table, cutlery clattering and elbows jamming into sides.
Bucky was slumped in his chair with a relaxed grin, Natasha talking his ear off. Maria, Fury and Monica were having some sort of conversation about a ginger cat, Monica excitedly gesturing whilst recounting a story to Maria. Carol and Valkyrie were sat with their heads bent towards each other, all soft smiles and gentle chatter. Bruce was half-heartedly trying to stop Thor from daring Vision to down a pint. [Y/N] and Steve were sat with Wanda and Sam, listening to them describe a cool moment in their last mission, when Wanda threw Steve up to Sam to get him on top of some tower. Steve had his hand resting on [Y/N]’s leg, stroking her tights gently with his thumb.
“[Y/N]!” Thor yelled across the table, slamming his fist into the table. “This is delicious!”
The table top juddered concerningly and Wanda had to stop several wine glasses from toppling over. “Thank you! But please don’t start throwing pie around,” [Y/N] called back. There had been many compliments on the food, and she looked relaxed and bright with red wine. “Steve did a lot of this too, guys, really,” she affirmed.
He squeezed her thigh. “Ahh, no. All I did was stick my hand up the turkey’s butt.” [Y/N] stood up to start gathering plates, only to have them spontaneously whipped out of her grasp.
“Let us do that,” Wanda said. “You did most of the cooking. Seriously, relax.”
“Okay. Thank you,” she relented, settling back in her seat.
Wanda and Sam collected the plates and started washing them at the sink, joined by Bucky and Vision. Wanda had everything clean within seconds, leaving the three men scrambling to dry all the dripping plates that were flying around. [Y/N] looked around and took in all the people who were willing to crowd around their table made for six; gush complements about her average cooking; clean mountains of dishes so she wasn’t stuck in the kitchen all day.
Steve leaned over to kiss her cheek. She rested her hand on his and stroked his knuckles. “Are you okay?” he whispered. Her eyes were looking a little misty.
“I’m just really happy,” she replied.
“Okay, good. Me too.”
After dinner they all migrated to the living room to curl up on sofas and cushions scattered on the floor. A tense game of monopoly between [Y/N], Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Wanda and Monica ensued. Valkyrie and Thor had fallen asleep on the sofa, Bruce gently prying Valkyrie’s drink from her hand so it didn’t spill.
Steve slotted himself onto the sofa behind [Y/N], her back resting between his knees. “Are you winning?” he said into her ear.
“I think I am, actually,” she replied with a chuckle. Bucky and Sam had been so focused on beating each other that they both ended going bankrupt. Within the same round.
“Come on, [Y/N], won’t you lend me some money? I’ll pay you back. With interest!” Bucky pleaded, giving her puppy dog eyes. Steve’s hands were gently massaging her neck and shoulders.
“Don’t give any money to him [Y/N]. Give it to me,” Sam said, shoving Bucky away. He toppled dramatically to the side, rubbing his shoulder in mock agony.
“I’m not giving anything to either of you!” she exclaimed. “You’ll go bankrupt again and I won’t get my money back.”
*************************************************
Later on, when everyone had left, Steve and [Y/N] were cleaning up in the kitchen; putting away the dishes and wiping down surfaces.
“Do you want tea? Or hot chocolate?” she asked.
“No. I want to go to bed,” Steve replied, his voice low and gravelly. He took her hand and led her away from the kitchen.
“Are we going to have sex?”
“Do you want to?” he said, without looking back at her.
She grinned and squeezed his hand. “Yes.”
They went straight into the bedroom, Steve lying back on the bed, pulling her down against him. She tripped on his feet and fell onto his chest with an “oof”. He smiled against her mouth, teeth clashing and breath as one. His hands pressed down firmly on her lower back, as if his body could swallow hers. Endocytosis.
She placed her hands onto his shoulders, sitting up and bringing her knees to settle either side of his hips. Her hands started working on his button-down shirt, leaning down to press kisses against his collarbone, his sternum, the flat plains of his stomach, the groove below his hipbone. Steve sat forward to yank the shirt from his shoulders, and then grabbed her hips to roll on top. He reached under her dress to pull her tights down her thighs, leaning back to grab her ankles and drag them all the way off.
“I love these tights,” he said.
“Really?” she replied.
“Yes. I especially love taking them off.”
She lifted her arms and the dress came next, Steve running his hands over her waist and placing kisses on her chest. She was giggling then, hands coming up to rest on her belly.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
She couldn’t stop laughing, covering her mouth with one hand. “I have a food baby,” she admitted.
He chuckled, and gave the area in question a kiss. It was rounder and more turgid than usual. “That’s cute,” he said.
She ran her fingernails over his scalp. “Thanks.”
He lifted his head and they kissed some more, tongues languidly stroking each other, Steve reaching for the clasp on her bra. His hands pinched her nipples, just the way she liked it. She let out an airy moan and reached down for his belt buckle. He leant over to one side to kick his jeans off; they got stuck around his ankles and he made a frustrated whine, seams ripping as he tugged them off.
When he turned back, her hand snaked underneath the waistband of his boxers to feel him. She earnt curses and moans and soft, wide eyes.
Steve often felt dizzied by the dichotomy of her character. While they were actually having sex, there was too much to process; he could only surrender to the moment and receive the pleasure with surprise and reverence. He would come apart completely, with murmurs of “Don’t stop,” and “Shit, honey. Fuck.” But in the warm light of day he would think about how the same woman who played monopoly with Bucky and Sam, and babysat Morgan on a Saturday night, and helped Peter with his homework, also took him in her mouth to make him feel good when they were all alone.
It made him feel fucking scandalous.
It wasn’t even like they had really freaky sex or anything, but Steve had just never had anything like that before. He had never shared every aspect of his life with a person before. Had never completely known, or been known.
And when she went down on him she would look right into his eyes with such a serious, solemn expression. It was too much and he could barely keep eye contact, head rolling back and mouth falling open in overwhelming sensations.
And when she was on top she definitely put on a show. Steve loved seeing her get far away and lost in using him for pleasure just as much as when she stayed close, mouth whispering into his that she loved him, he made her feel complete.
And after they had sex, sometimes she would ask him to stay inside her, legs and neurons knotted together. “This is so good. You’re so good,” he would whisper.
He actually asked her about it once, before they were married. “Is everyone this good at sex?” he had said.
She smiled, reaching up to smooth his eyebrow with her thumb. “Honestly? It’s because of you.”
“Huh?”
“You make me feel sexy,” she explained. “I don’t feel shy when I’m with you.”
After they had sex that night, [Y/N] grabbed some underwear and lay still on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her bones felt tired, muscles like viscous liquid.
“You okay?” Steve asked.
“I should take my makeup off.”
“Okay”
“But I’m very weary.” Steve sniggered. “Can you pass me that bottle and some cotton wool?” she asked.
“Sure.” He leant over to the dresser to grab them and hold them out to her.
Her hands remained limp by her sides. “And can you wet the cotton wool with the bottle and take my makeup off?”
He laughed. “Okay.”
“I’m only joking,” she conceded.
“No, it’s okay. I can do it. You just relax,” he reassured her, unscrewing the bottle lid and shifting to kneel by her head. His hands smoothed the cotton soaked with makeup remover over her face, starting with her lips.
“Oh. This is nice,” she said. He turned the cotton over and started on her eyes, carefully pulling the dark pigment away. “You’re being very gentle.”
“Is that good?”
“Yes. I love it when you’re gentle with me.”
Steve stopped stroking her face, peering into her eyes with an amused expression. “Do you feel drunk?” he asked.
“No,” she replied, bringing her hands up to hold his face and stroke his cheekbones. “I’m in love with you.”
Taglist: @mayasreadingnook (just message or comment or something if you'd like to be added)
