#tinylovestory

[evanstarff]

“I see you” Steve

❝ stars

A #tinylovestory in 100 words or less.

A/N: Thank you for the prompt, my love. It has been truly rough trying to write in this exceptional time. (I am no longer taking prompts) 🖤

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Metal keens steady, and the engine rattles off.

Stars smear across a midnight sky as warm hands wrap, once, thrice around ankles, thighs, slow around hips with a sparkling heat into your tired heart.

"Why bring me here, Rogers?"

Steve says nothing – nothing with his pretty mouth, pretty face. Yet deep blue scars in those sweet dark eyes say otherwise.

He's warm against you, hot like the sun. Sparking life, comfort – a gift when moments get dark and quiet in the ways that don't quite make sense.

"I see you," he says at last and it's enough.

—

Steve Rogers Masterlist // Full Masterlist

[forkergirl]

#newyorktimes #tinylovestory #thyliasmoss #bobholmanpoet❤️ #love # (at Adrian, Michigan) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-9MtKmB078/?igshid=184m29t2rvoz2

[evanstarff]

Sleepless

A #tinylovestory in 100 words or less.

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The spaces became too big, too vast.

Night deepened with the softest knock, the smallest ache of a smile. “Laundry again?”

Blue-burned eyes met yours, careful and wearied by time. “Nah, couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I.”

It was quiet when Steve took you beneath the sheets. Shattered, shaken. Torn apart, then pulled back together again. Slivers of warmth in the mottled days where nothing made sense but this.

This was broken and divine.

Half a life, half a universe. No king, no queen – no matter. He was half a man and you, another half.

One and the same, no different.

---

Steve Rogers Masterlist // Full Masterlist

[evanstarff]

Seven

A #tinylovestory in 100 words or less.

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Your lives aligned for seven weeks.

He needed a place to stay. You needed a reason to be.

With him, you remembered comfort, ease, a steadiness rooted in a little laughter, a little light.

With you, he remembered how to touch, feel, fold pieces of his tender heart into another till unfurling the origami lines became an impossibility.

"I'm not sure how long I can stay," Bucky told you, eyes nervous blue, hands warm on your skin, your lips, through your hair.

"It's okay," you said.

He kissed you, until one day they came and stole him away.

---

Full Masterlist here 🖤

[evanstarff]

omg, i just binged all of your tiny love stories! and let me just say, they are absolutely beautiful. they read like silk, and it's like the words are threaded together with sunshine and laughter <3

Thank you so, so much! I'm chuffed you appreciate them – I might get back to them after I get my 84 million challenges done 🖤🖤

[evanstarff]

Prose

A #tinylovestory in 100 words or less.

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Steve reads to you in the balmy afternoon sun, words familiar and new, warm on skin and in your heart.

“Baby, you’re distracted.”

Three words from his lips spark heat through skin, into your heart. Soft, slow, then hot, like wildfire through muscle. Hands touch you gently, distractedly, skin on skin, then completely, his mouth on yours, your cheek, your jaw, whispered words on your neck, palms warm and heated on your waist.

“I think you’re distracted, Rogers.”

Steve smiles, blue eyes glimmering hot with mischief, and kisses you, his lips a sonnet from the well-versed pages of his heart.

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[evanstarff]

Daylight

A #tinylovestory in 100 words or less.

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Rain outside, rain inside, on the windows, in your heart.

Sheets restless, tossed, turned over. One breath, three, heart beats faster, higher, twisting anxiety, breathless. Feet touch the floor, pacing, worried.

Bucky’s eyes are bright in the rising grey of the sun. “Darlin’, come to bed.”

Slow, sweet fingers caress the skin on your hands. Your fingers. Up, up, up your arms and pull you near, so close.

Long fingers thread your hair, soft whispered comforts in your ear. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

Heart beats slow. Steady. Slower. Hands play magic through your hair.

Rain shimmers into light and day.

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[evanstarff]

Solar

A #tinylovestory in 100 words or less.

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Heat bleeds from the sky and smothers the skin.

It's the fifteenth lap, pounded by expectation and loose with this overarching feeling, a growing tiredness of the seasons; the kind unassuaged by time.

Steve breathes. Once. Twice. In. Out. He faces the emerging dusk and there you are – sweet, lovely, warm with worshipped affection.

Your smile waits for him parkside. He comes over, meets your eyes, your face, bright with summer glow.

A cool breeze comes quietly with murmurations of summer rain.

You kiss him, and it soothes like a balm on his very soul.

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Masterlist here if you would like my things 🖤