A/N: FINALLY!!! I got a new chapter edited....anyway these fucking idiots...
WARNINGS: dirty implied stuffs in a closet. Kissing? Touching? NOISES?!?!!
Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.
**Please Do Not Repost My Work**
Steve leaned over you, the cramped space giving neither of you any room to move without pressing against the other. You pressed closer to the table trying to make space without knocking anything over in the dark closet. "-switch.. There's gotta be a switch-" you mumbled, hands blindly pressing against the wall. "Probably behind you-?"
Wisps of telltale red slipped out under the doorframe, not unnoticed by him as he pressed his palms to the wall opposite you on either side of your head. You shifted and Steve hissed, the sound making you freeze as his large hands moved to your hips quicker than you could blink.
Steve pressed his forehead to the crown of your head, before cocking it to the side, lips just barely skipping over the nape of your neck, he bumped his nose to your ear taking a moment to inhale your perfume, no shame when he felt you go still at the movement. "Sorry, tight in here," he felt you shiver pressed so close to him.
You waved your hands, making a little noise that sounded like a muffled moan. A small, "unnff!" Escaping you yet again.
Steve closed his eyes and took in a slow breath, willing himself not to lose composure and grind into you like some horny teenager. For a moment he wanted to slap himself as your hands caught at his wrists, he could hear your quickening breath, felt you squirm to adjust for better accommodations, damn Wanda and her magic. He had spotted Nat just briefly and wondered what her quick wink had been about, of course they had to have plotted together to get the two of you in the smallest closet on the compound.
"S-Steve-" you stuttered his name and pressed back into him without warning, turning your head to look up at him with wide eyes, "th-the light switch?"
Steve let out a groan as your ample ass pressed to the front of his tactical pants. As you huffed out a little breath and wriggled against him, "Jesus fuck-!"
**
You were warm and comfortable, there was someone snuggling up to you from behind, strong thick arms caging you in and pulling you back into them. You felt… elated, like this was the best thing, even your tummy fluttered.. it fluttered and turned. Who was hugging you again? The world tipped even as you laid there.
Steve.
You shot up, surprising him as you bolted from the bed.
He was right on your heels as you made for the first door and cried out when you slammed the door shut in his face. "Y/N?" He could easily push the door open, how many had he gone through before?
Your answer came in a gross noise of upheaval from the other side of said door. He hurried to the kitchen grabbing a water bottle and a few pills. The door wasn't even locked and he felt bad for smiling as you kneeled in front of his toilet and more liquid came out of you. Setting the bottle and pills down on the counter he moved over to pull your hair back gently, you peered over your shoulder at him and he felt it, he was such a goner as you gave him a soft apologetic smile, eyes puffy and a bit watery.
"You shouldn't see me like this…" you moaned.
"The issue with that is that I need to get in practice now for when you have my babies. This'll be good practice."
You scoffed and hiccupped, covering your mouth with a hand. "Steve… you should sleep over. We can watch mo-movies -hic- and eat popcorn."
He softened, "honey, you are sleeping over…"
"I am?" He nodded as you looked up at him, the cool tile beneath your legs a contrast to the heat running throughout your body. "But you never…" the poison in your stomach moved and you cried out pathetically before another round came up. "I've been poisoned!" You whimpered again.
Steve stifled his laughter rubbing his other hand soothingly in circles up and down your back. You shifted, landing between his legs as he sat on the edge of his tub, and pressed your face to his thigh. "Poisoned. You are not taking this seriously," you squeaked, grabbing his leg to keep from falling over. The room spun, wobbling a bit, it made you more nauseous and the light was too bright.
Steve sucked in his breath as you nuzzled closer to him, he reached over you and grabbed the pills and bottle. "Honey, you have to drink this," he informed you, wrapping a large hand just under your jaw and pressing a pill to your lips.
You opened your lips, staring up at him as he cracked open the bottle for you and again pressed it to your lips.
Steve ran a thumb along your cheek as you did as he asked, "see? Good girl, let me help you up.."
"You are so good Steve, but I see you. You are -hic- are, what do they call them…? OH! A do-dominant.. a Dom. D-dom? You take care of everyone too…"
He struggled to keep from reacting as you stood with his help. You kept leaning into him, fingers clutching at him, the way you kept looking at him made his heart hammer a little harder against his chest. The dream rushing back to the forefront of his memory. The way you felt, your scent, the little sounds you made-
Yes, he liked taking care of others but that was just the way he was, and you were drunk. You stopped him before he could lead you out of the bathroom and your eyebrows pressed together with worry.
"What is it honey?"
You looked away, suddenly shy, "toothbrush?"
*
He waited, even as you demanded to brush your teeth unsupervised; he had reached out and steadied you as you had begun to lean too far one way. And reminded him you were an individual- did he want to watch movies?
And this was how he found himself on his couch with you next to him. You had picked a horror movie out and there was a look of concentration on your face that he found absolutely adorable.
"Hey, not scared are you?"
"No!"
"Then stop scooting over…"
"I am cold and drunk"
"Okay, it's okay to be scared."
"Not scared."
Steve tipped his head away when you pressed closer to him in order to see you better as you pulled the cover you had stolen from his room up a little. "You are scared."
"Shut up"
He was glad you didn't have to go into the office in the morning, it being the weekend meant that even if you were drunk and stayed up late you could sleep in. He could sleep in with you. Snuggle with you… and…
A dream. It had been a dream.
He had never wanted a dream to be so real before. It had felt real.
He was so busy staring at you he completely missed the slasher sneaking up on the idiot of a heroine and was surprised when you jolted, throwing yourself into him.
Steve couldn't help laughing as you buried further into the covers and under his jaw, attempting to crawl over him as your flight response kicked in. He could feel you literally shaking as he wrapped his arms around you, dragging you into his lap.
"Maybe scary movies are not a good idea when you're drunk hmm?" He paused as you peeked out from under the covers.
"M'not drunk…" you answered sheepishly. You had indeed expelled almost all of the asgardian mead and had sobered a bit.
"No?" He asked, catching your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Remembering you calling him a Dom at that moment was not what he needed. "No?" He asked again, keeping your gaze locked with his.
You shook your head.
"Then if I do this?" He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
"S'okay.." You answered shrugging as you became more aware of the situation you were in and then you remembered what had happened a few hours ago. You remembered he had not wanted to kiss you. Had you really called him that? No, that hadn't happened...
"This?" He asked pulling you forwards and pressed his face into the crook of your neck. It tickled, his scruff tickling your skin.
You couldn't help the burst of soft laughter escaping you and you shoved at his shoulders as he took in a large breath.
"Y/N… you know I like you right?" He asked, breath hot on your skin.
You tensed up. You were not sober enough to be rejected nicely. "I'm sleepy!" You proclaimed.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow. He could tell you tomorrow. And then you could go get drunk after he told you how nice you were of a friend. How he appreciated you. How he didn't want to ruin things.
But tomorrow.
Right now you wanted to hold on to this moment.
Steve stood, easily lifting you large hands gripping the underside of your thighs, thumbs swiping back and forth and smiling as your grip tightened. He left the TV on and carefully lowered you to the floor once he got back into the room. You looked down at the floor almost immediately and he caught your chin again. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, voice low and soothing.
It was because of how warm and concerned he sounded that you couldn't hold back. He cooked his head to the side, brows drawing together as he studied you carefully and the floodgates opened. "I- hic… I don't want…" the words escaping you in a semi-wail as you scrubbed at your eyes.
His stomach sank.
"I don't want to be a friend. I'm always just the friend! An -hic- I know my like for you is different than your like -hic- for me!"
He blinked, confused as tears spilled over and down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivering.
"Oh… fuck…"
And with those muttered words it finalized it in your fuzzy mind. It was over.
You had wanted to wait. You wanted to be selfish and pretend just for one night. But you were still drunk and that didn't allow you to keep your mouth shut.
Then something unexpected happened.
Steve cupped your face in his large hands and kissed you.
You stared at him in shock, his long lashes had swept down and so you closed your eyes and kissed him back. His shoulders were hard under your fingertips, solid muscle shifting as he lowered himself a bit more. Plush lips pressing over yours tenderly, you tilted up, leaning into him, hands slipping over his shoulders to his back.
Steve made a low noise in the back of his throat and you shivered as he gathered you closer. Teeth nipped at your bottom lip and you sighed into the kiss as his hands slipped from your face to your waist dragging you closer.
"So fucking cute," he hummed pressing smaller kisses to your lips.
"Don't make fun of me," you pouted, blushing as he chuckled softly. Your breath caught at the back of your throat, little sobs still forcing their way up and out.
"But you are"
Your brain caught up. "You kissed me" you exclaimed, staring up at him.
"Yes"
"You kissed me?"
Steve hummed, "still sleepy?" You nodded, surprised when he nudged you back into the bed following you under the covers. You thought he could hear your heart thump loudly against your chest as he curled around you.
"Steve?"
"Mmm?"
"This is… real?" You jerked as he pinched your side, "ow!"
"It's real. Now get some sleep."
"Will you kiss me again?"
"When you're more sober."
You waited a few seconds. "I'm more sober now…"
"Cute." You opened your mouth to argue and he covered your face with his hand, "I am trying really hard to be good Y/N. Please let me be good." His mind went back to the dream, you were as soft as he had dreamt.
It's my Birthday, I've just turned 4. I run down the steps of my grandmas house onto the beach, I feel the sun on my skin, I probably didn't appreciate it.
Its my birthday, I've just turned 9, I sit in the car on the way to paintball, I've been asking for this for months. No one told me how much it'd hurt. I'm covered in bruises for weeks after. I pretend that's what's got me down, not my "best friend" asking his mum why she made him come.
It's my birthday, I've just turned 11, I come out of my room to show my mum the dress she bought me. it's black and gold, and even without the look on my face, it's clearly uncomfortable. The choppy bob I have doesn't match the elegance of such a piece of clothing, and its too short from me not growing into my limbs yet. I spend the entire night thinking about how much better the pizza would taste if I could just wear my jeans.
It's my birthday, I've just turned 14, I dressed myself. I laugh as I take my first drink of the night and my only bite of pizza, thinking how much better it would taste if it had no calories.
It's my birthday, I've just turned 16, I am happy. I am far too drunk. I don't worry about calories or friendships, I'm too busy with an E someones crushing up and how much I can get away with before my mum comes back. I don't notice my boyfriend crying in the other room. I don't notice that I fuck people over.
It's almost my birthday, I'll be 17. I'm sober and happy and stable, this doesn't stop me from wanting to get blackout, but I won't. I'll eat cake and laugh and swim.
saturday after thanksgiving (24th) of 2018.
this was the year that i learned that i should do things only for myself. i spent weeks working out and dieting so i would be in shape enough for my cousin(s) not to make fun of my weight but it didn’t matter because they still found something. they always do. even my adult cousins and aunts and uncles found something this year too. apparently i’ve been labeled an alcoholic or a druggie or whatever else they think i am. they think I’m a bad influence on their kids (my cousins). they didn’t care that i’m doing well in school or haven't killed myself or write successfully or work out regularly. they didn’t care about the good things that i do because they’ve seen me at my worst and think thats all i am.
it made me think if it really is all i am.
last year i was blackout drunk all the time. this year i didn’t touch a fucking drop of alcohol. and i haven’t drank in months. they don’t care. this year i smoked pot more days in a row than i ever have, but only after i found out they didn’t care. maybe the two aren’t correlated, but a part of me thinks they are. i didn’t want to smoke that much. not really. but i did. they said what they said and for some reason, instead of proving them wrong, i thought fuck it and proved them right. if they don’t want me around, i won’t be sober enough to hear it. and i don’t fucking care.
semi-sober stoner. (he's smelt of thc since 19 so no question the mild effects are still there) but no smoking from 0830 til 2300h?
how rare.
never has the young Bull spent a clothed night with // man, woman, neither and both, (fuck gender anyway) // without herbal medicine passing his lips. whether or not they could keep up, he didn’t care. now, ganja goddess who can match and easily bests at lung capacity?
how rare.
hell, engaged (too young) to a woman who hated cannabis taste on his face, there was still something unsettled in the young Bull’s cage.. even she, fiance could not calm him more than mary jane. (no surprise they ended as a poorly told joke).
so how rare,
that in the span of hours with fingers lacing through earthen curtained hair, he was not shaken to be aware of the sober nature of his mind.
his only concern was to wrap himself around exhausted 0300 vomit wracked body and (no interest in toking, young Bull usually constant chimney) have her hear the care (love) care in his silent lips against her forehead.
