I am here for all the fluff & smut😜🤭 | Late 30s | Black, woman, proud| introvert with an extrovert heart | Chris Evans is (& some of his characters are) my fantasy lover in my head 😘|TOTAL FREEDOM FOR ALL!!!
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “I'm gonna make her mine, all mine”
A/N2: Reader is plus sized, female. No other physical descriptors used.
Warnings: Animals with injuries/birth defects.
Word Count: 300
Main story coming soon(Ish)!
Steve doesn't need a clock to tell that it's 12:30. Tank, Marigold and Parker were standing at the door waiting for your lunch break and their afternoon walk.
When you'd first moved into the apartment next door Steve was scared you'd be angry at living next to a place that fostered special needs dogs and cats. Instead, you asked to be shown the animals and cooed over each of them while also paying attention to Steve's warnings about care and treatment.
You even asked if you could take some of them for walks when you took your lunch break. Working from home you know you need to make sure you get out of your apartment from time to time. Having a neighbor who fostered dogs was a great opportunity to do so.
The knock at the door had Steve smiling as the dogs' tails started wagging. Carefully making sure not to step on any paws or wheelchair components, he makes his way to the door to unlock it.
"HI Steve," you cheer as you see him. Carefully stepping through the door, you delight at all the happy puppies eager for their walk. "Hey pretties! You ready for walkies?"
The dogs are immediately barking and tippy-tapping, as they're able.
Grabbing the leashes you ask Steve, "are you able to join us today?"
"Nah, I've got a blind kitten that's still getting used to things. Need to stick close for him."
"Gotcha. I'll take this little pack around a block or two and be back in no time."
After you've left Steve checks in on the kitten, talking softly about you.
"She's so sweet and beautiful," Steve confesses. "She's out of my league, of course. Who isn't? But some days I like to think I'm gonna make her mine, all mine."
A/N: Reader is female, nickname Heart. No physical descriptors used.
A/N2: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “No I can't promise that I won't do that”
Word Count: 284
Main Story
Curtis texted that he was in the parking lot and you quickly tell your supervisor you're going on break. You practically ran out to the parking lot where Curtis was there to greet you with a box of cookies and, in his jacket, an adorable black kitten peeking out.
"Oh my gosh! She's too cute!" you squee before giving Curtis a small kiss.
"Almost as cute as you," he beams. "She seems to like hiding out in my jacket but she's also on a leash, just to be safe."
"Very smart," you nod as you give the little kitten chin scritches. "Isn't he, Soot? Isn't he just so smart?"
Soot doesn't reply but she does lean in to your touch.
"I think she likes you," Curtis coos.
"Well my nails are nicer than yours," you playfully retort.
"Hmmm, I dunno," he teases.
"Let me show you," you smirk.
Reaching out your other hand you start scratching Curtis' chin as gently as you are Soot's. Almost instantly his brain short-circuits. It's like you're scratching an itch he didn't know he had. He leans into your touch and lets out a small moan.
"See?" you giggle, trying to hide how his moaning affects you.
"I will never doubt the superiority of your touch ever again," he vows. "Promise me you'll never stop?"
"No, I can't promise I won't do that," you laugh.
"What about for Soot?"
"Soot can get all the scritches she wants, of course!"
"That's not fair," he pouts playfully. "But, I suppose she is cuter so I can understand."
"If it helps, you get kisses."
Placing a chaste, but meaningful kiss on Curtis' lips he gently holds you close.
A/N: Written for the June Jukebox Scribbles. Prompt: “I never understood a single word he said”
Warnings: Implied smut. Please let me know if I missed any!
Word Count: 217
"I've heard that cats are more talkative when their owners are talkative, but Fred isn't very vocal," Mary says to the table.
"He probably talks plenty when we're not home," Frank suggests.
"He talks to me all the time," you chime in. "Your first day at school? He was extra chatty! I never understood a word he said but he must've been missing you."
"He doesn't talk to you," Mary accuses with a small glare.
You shrug your shoulders. "Not to me, of course. I think he likes the sound of his own voice."
Mary huffs in disbelief. "If that were the case, he'd be talking all the time."
"Fair enough," you concede. "But I still promise he talks a lot when you two are gone."
"And where's your proof?"
"What? You can't just take my word for it?"
Frank interjects, "you've been known to tease and exaggerate."
Mary points at him while giving you a "see?" look and you raise your hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay, I'll see about getting you proof."
Mary jumps out of her chair, "you have a camera! I'll go get it so we can set it up!"
You and Frank give each other terrified looks before chasing after her, hoping to catch her before she accidentally sees what's on the camera.
You've just moved into a new place. The neighborhood is nice and there are three younger men who seem to be very interested in you.
Pick one if you can:
Mace, a mechanics engineer rather calm and collected, but quite blunt and not afraid to show he likes you. He is just waiting for the right sign...
Jake Jensen, the blushing computer programmer. He is a mess each time you meet and he is awkward at flirting but he makes you smile a lot.
Captain Joaquin Torres. An army man. Simple, kind and friendly. He is quite the gentleman and offered you his help each time there was an occasion to do so.
Oh gosh! Thank you for your patience as I think about a younger man being interested in me. 🫣
Honestly, I'll probably go with Joaquín (forgive me Jake!). He's so smiley and helpful! Plus, I'd be so worried that Jake is a mess around me because he doesn't like me and just wants to be polite.
But you trying to call Steve his full name with intended scolding impact and he's just:
Warnings: Implied injuries. Please let me know if I missed any.
"Steven Grant Rogers!"
Normally when someone hears their full name from their partner they know their in trouble. But for Steve, it's a sign of life and love.
It started when he woke up in the hospital after a particularly rough mission. You were the nurse in charge of his care and gave him a lecture when you saw his eyes open.
"Steve Grant Rogers! Don't ever scare us like that again. You need to take better care of yourself!"
Steve smiled softly, certain you wouldn't be yelling at a dying patient.
After he healed up, he brought you flowers as a thank you. After every mission, he asked for you. Every time you patched him up, he brought you flowers. You were the only one surprised when he asked you out.
From then on, every time you used his full name was when you were trying to be mad at him.
Buying you the expensive dress you'd been looking at but weren't sure you could pull it off?
"Steven Grant Rogers!"
Blowing off his meetings so he could be your shoulder to cry on after a rough day?
"Steven Grant Rogers!"
Setting up a very intimate picnic at the local botanical gardens so he could propose surrounded by your favorite flowers?
"Steven Grant Rogers!"
He doesn't fear hearing his full name from you. He never will. Because he knows you only say it when he's done something right.
Babysitter romance, but you're the single mom who hires babysitter Jake 🤭🥰
Frustration
Warnings: Implied smut. Please let me know if I missed any!
Carefully closing the door behind you so as not to potentially wake your little Anna, you enter your apartment and smile at Jake playing on his Nintendo Switch. Not what many would consider a normal babysitter but you met him through his sister when you needed an emergency babysitter. Apparently he'd been a regular babysitter for her daughter and was very good at it.
Jake looks up at the click of the door and smiles. You swear your heart beats faster every time he smiles at you. He's such a cutey and surprisingly well built, but doesn't seem to know it. Most women don't seem to bother getting to know him past the dorky smile and glasses.
Standing up, Jake starts packing up his things. You really don't want him to leave, though.
"How was Anna?" you ask, stalling for time.
"She was fine," he reassures. "Managed to tire her out with some Mario Kart competitions."
"Is she still the reigning champion?"
"Yes, though it was close," Jake chirps. "We actually had to go into a round three!"
"You're getting better!" you playfully jest.
Jake blushes, shyly looking away while smiling. "Thanks."
He's just too cute. You have to make a move.
"Do you have to go so soon?"
He looks up at you, worry in his eyes. "Is something wrong? Do you need help or company?"
Plucking up the courage you get in close and say in your sexiest voice, "both. I've been so...frustrated lately."
"F-f-frustrated?"
"My toys can only do so much and too often my partners are more concerned with their own satisfaction."
"S-s-sounds frustrating, indeed," he stutters out.
"Will you help me, Jake? Keep me company and help me work out my sexual frustration?"
Warnings: Hospital setting. Please let me know if I missed any!
"You're awfully smiley for a guy who's worked a shift-and-a-half," Nat smirks. "I'm guessing our New Year's Eve girl is fun to chat with?"
Steve blushes, "yeah. She's so smart! And really sweet."
"Have you actually asked her out yet?"
"No, no, of course not. She's got a broken ankle and she needs to let it rest."
"That'll be the only acceptable reason for not asking her out yet," Nat concedes. "But closer to time you better get your schedule in order."
"Oh, right," his face drops. "But what if---"
"No!" Nat interrupts him, gently bopping him with her chart. "Bad! You need to take breaks from work. No 'what if's' for a date that's at least a month in the future."
Steve sighs, "I'm hopeless."
"No!" Nat bops him a bit harder with her chart. "No giving up when you haven't even been on your first date! I will call you Dr. Studmuffin in front of the med students. You're having fun talking with this woman, hold onto that."
"You're right, I'm sorry," Steve apologizes. "I'll try not to get too into my head about it."
"Good."
You're not sure which is the worse part of healing up: the pain or the excess time for thinking. You've tried several distractions but nothing seems to work. Really it's only texting with Steve that keeps you sane. But then you start to wonder if you're talking too much. He's a very busy doctor, you really shouldn't be taking up so much of his time. He probably only texts back because he feels he has to.
Ugh. You can't wait until you get access to your work computer again. You need something to keep you from getting too into your own head about flirting with Dr. Studmuffin.
Curtis, the wood worker. He has a stall at the market but he's not very personable. Still, he takes an interest when you buy one of his 'cute' wolf figurines. But he wouldn't call it that himself.
The Sweetheart Discount
Curtis really doesn't like he Farmer's Market. There's so many people who look over his offerings, getting their grubby hands all over the woodwork, and then never buying anything. People complain about the price no matter what he sets it at so he often opts for a higher price than if he'd sold it from his shop or through Etsy. If they're going to complain, might as well give them something to complain about.
At the very least his time at the Market was good for drawing up plans and supply estimates for bigger projects. Hal was working on some house renovations and the customer wanted shelving built into the walls. Curtis needed to get the contractor some cost and time estimates ranging from cheap and simple to expensive and extravagant.
He's broken out of his mental math by a pretty voice cooing over his figurines.
"Oh my goodness! These woofies are just so cute!" you exclaim.
That's a new one, Curtis thinks while keeping his features schooled. He doesn't want to be accused of scaring people away with his side-eye
Pointing to one of the figurines you ask, "is it okay if I take a closer look?" Curtis is pleasantly surprised at actually being asked so he gives you a nod. "Thank you!"
Carefully picking up the beautiful woodwork, you turn it over in your hands a few times. The cost is higher than you'd like but it would also make a wonderful graduation gift for your nephew. So, swallowing your disappointment, you tell the handsome, if grumpy looking, man at the stall that you'll take it.
Curtis saw your reaction to the price so he's curious, "getting yourself a little something?"
"Oh, no, it's for my nephew," you explain. "He's loved wolves since he was just a toddler and...and now he's graduating college! I can't get him much so I like to make sure my gifts are meaningful."
Curtis nods and takes his pen to the price sticker. He then tells you the new cost which is much lower than the price you saw.
"I...I don't understand, sir."
"Lotta people like to add what they call 'the asshole tax' to their items," he starts. "I automatically add that tax to all the prices, removing it for polite customers. Then I take off a little more for kind people. I nickname it 'the sweetheart discount' because it's only for people who are sweet."
"Oh! Thank you so much, sir!" you beam, happy tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
"Curtis," he replies, holding out his hand. "And if you need more, please let me know."
Summary: After you traded places with your sister, things don't get as expected. Then again, you're not sure what you expected.
Warnings: Insecure reader, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any!
A/N: Reader is plus sized, female. No other physical descriptors used.
Word Count: ~2.7k
Follow up to this story.
Ari wasted no time after the ceremony in getting you to the honeymoon suite. It's understandable you're not going to the reception, it was set up with your sister in mind.
Though he seems happy with the trade, he probably has less interest, if any, in showing you off. Becca, your sister, is the pretty one whose smiles brighten the room. You're the smart one who best helps the family behind the scenes, away from the eyes of others. Given how quickly Ari guided you to the limo after the wedding, he's likely thinking the same thing. He respects your spine and your brain, but your looks need to be kept in the shadows so you don't make him look bad.
Inside the limo, Ari's hands never left your body. The entire ride he was alternating between squeezing, kneading and caressing as his hands roamed. You figure he's either seriously pent up or seriously trying to work himself up so he can consummate the marriage as he's supposed to.
You're so nervous about that part. Sure, you've got some experience, but this is Ari Levinson. He's not known for being patient or gentle and the growls in your ear and his rough touches are further evidence of that. You know you're going to be sore afterwards and you're not sure he'll care.
Ari opens the door to your hotel suite and moves to pick you up but you back away too quickly.
"What are you doing?" you exclaim.
"I'm trying to carry my wife across the threshold," he growls, closing the distance between you.
"Look, I'm certain you're a very strong man," you start, "but I am a very heavy woman and I will not be accused of trying to kill you by breaking your back on the day of the wedding."
He grips the back of your head and smashes his lips to yours. Taken aback, your lips part as if to let out a gasp he and shoves his tongue into your mouth. It's by far the roughest, most demanding kiss you've ever experienced. It's overwhelming and your can feel your knees wobble a little.
Ari breaks the kiss, a look of smug satisfaction across his face. "There. You're too weak-kneed to walk and you need me to carry you."
"That's not f---"
Your protests are interrupted by Ari picking you up. Afraid of falling, you cling as tight to him as you're able.
"Only place I'm dropping you is on the bed," he promises. "So if you could let up on the collar, I'd appreciate it."
"Not until you put me down!" you argue.
"Then I guess I better hurry and get you to the bed," he teases.
Your heart drops when you realize what he's doing: he's showing you there's no overpowering him. That he's the one who's got the literal and metaphorical strength to keep you in your place. That has to be it, right? Your sister was easy to scare off, he wouldn't have had to show off like this for her. No. You're the one who challenged him, who didn't back down despite his obvious anger. You need to be shown who's in charge.
If he'd just ask you, you could've told him you know better than to question him. Well, aside from the contract. And just now with the carrying...Okay, maybe it is your own fault he needs to go through the demonstration of strength.
You feel Ari start to fall forward and you let out a frightened squeal only to find yourself landing on a very soft bed with a very heavy man on top of you. A very heavy man who is already kissing down your throat as one of his hands starts undoing the buttons on your jacket.
"Thought the pantsuit would make this easier," he huffs with a tinge of amusement. "Hope you're not too attached to this thing."
Putting his lips back against your skin, Ari pulls the lapel of your jacket so hard some of the buttons pop off. He smothers your protests with his mouth and pulls again, ridding your jacket of it's remaining buttons and revealing the white sleeveless cami you're wearing underneath.
Ari pushes up your shirt and bra, freeing your breasts. Growling in appreciation he roughly takes one nipple in his mouth. One hand kneads your breast while the other kneads your belly. If he's turned off by your extra cushion he makes no sign of it.
He must be really pent up, you think. It's not unheard of for men to not even jerk off a couple weeks before the wedding in the hopes of getting their wife pregnant quickly. That's probably all that's happening here. The sooner you give him an heir, the sooner he never has to touch you again.
"So deliciously soft," he moans as he starts alternating kisses and gentle bites down your front. You can't help the little squeaks and fidgets his mouth causes.
When he gets to the top of your pants he eagerly starts pulling them down with your panties. You raise your hips to help him and he smirks, calling you a good girl, and your face heats up even more.
Ari spreads your legs, giving him a good look at your already slick pussy.
"Fucking beautiful," he moans. You let out a dismissive huff without thinking and Ari's gaze snaps to meet yours. "What was that?"
A few thoughts spring to mind until you finally settle on being honest with the scary mob boss you've just married.
"We both know that no part of me is beautiful," you reply. "I've been told often enough that I'm too fat to be pretty. And you clearly agree given that you rushed us to the hotel instead of going to the reception. You don't want to be seen with me, I get it. I'm used to working behind the scenes anyways. Just don't lie to me about it."
Ari's expression darkens. This is the second time today you've seen that glare. It should be enough to have you scrambling to apologize, but you keep yourself from doing so. He's your husband. The least he can do is be honest with you.
"Sit up," he orders.
Clumsily you move yourself to the edge of the bed so you can sit up. If he wants to talk to you like an adult, you'll certainly comply. As soon as you're in position, Ari grips your chin and forces you to look up at him.
"Have I ever given you the impression that I'm a polite man? That I give a shit about social niceties?" he growls.
"No..."
"And have I ever been known for lying or backstabbing? For smiling in someone's face while planning their death?"
"N-no..."
"Then why the hell would I lie to you about your looks?"
You can feel your brain buffering as you try to answer him. It's true he's never been anything but brutally honest. But it's also true that you're not attractive. So how can he say that you're beautiful if he's not lying?
"I'm your wife?" you offer.
"And why would that make a difference?"
"To keep me happy...To keep me from being...from being a nuisance?"
Ari smirks and a chill runs down your spine. "I am a big believer in 'happy wife, happy life.' But I'm also not a man to change his ways for anyone. When I say you're beautiful, I mean it. And if anyone tells you you're not, you give me their name and I'll make an example of them."
You feel your lower lip quiver as you process his words. "But...but I'm not... The reception?"
Ari's smirk turns into a full smile. "The reception was a formality I decided not to observe so I could spend more time with my incredibly sexy, smart, fiery wife."
"I...I don't understand. You wanted my sister."
"Your parents picked her," he counters. "As happy as I was to see you walk the aisle, I'm not a man who likes being lied to. I'd heard your sister ran and needed to make sure you weren't trying to pull the wool over my eyes. That you weren't going to try to argue the wedding was off."
"That's why you agreed so quick?"
"Of course. I got myself a wife who can step up and look a killer in the eye without flinching. You're not someone I'm going to have to shield from my work. You're partner material. I can rely on you."
Tears drop from your eyes. Tears of confusion. Tears of hope.
"Now," Ari continues, "if you'll excuse me, I've got a beautiful woman naked in front of me and I aim to take advantage."
You still can't fight the little huff you let out, but you're able to accompany it with a smile and that seems to appease him.
Ari leans in close and growls, "I'm going to have to shut off that brain of yours so you can accept a compliment, aren't I?"
"Probably," you mumble, trying to lower your gaze.
"Best way to do that is to have you sit on my face," he winks as he starts removing his jacket.
"What? Absolutely not!" Ari pauses, eyebrows raised. "It's bad enough you set me up to break your back by carrying me," you explain."Now you want me to suffocate you?!"
"What I want is for you to soak my beard," he smirks, continuing to remove his clothes even as he maintains eye contact. "But I suppose there are other ways to do that. Now lay back and spread those legs for me."
Your breath hitches but you find yourself obeying. There's a renewed heat flaring up as you're hesitantly optimistic about what comes next. Laying back you hold your legs open, putting yourself on display for Ari.
"Good girl," he praises, voice low and gravely.
Removing his shirt, you get a good look at his muscly torso and let out a whimper. The tattoos, scars and chest hair can't hide his muscles.
"Like what you see, Beautiful?" he teases as he steps closer. You nod, unsure of your ability to keep your voice steady.
Ari kneels in front of you like a worshiper at the altar. "Make sure to use that melodious voice of yours to let me know when I'm going a good job."
"O-ok," you nod even as your breaths become shallow.
In a blink, Ari pulls you to the very edge of the bed and wraps your legs around his head. He nuzzles his face against your pussy, humming in delight, before tonguing your slit. When he hears your light gasp, Ari rubs your clit with his nose, smiling at the cute sounds you make. He quickly picks up speed and you can't hold back your moans, even if you wanted.
Ari's big hands start kneading your butt while pushing your pussy into his face as much as physically possible. He wants to absolutely devour you, and he will later. But for now he's going to study your reactions, learn your preferences, your sensitive spots. Ari wants to completely ruin you for all other men, to get you addicted to his touch. As much as wants to fuck you until you're dripping his cum from every hole, he needs to make sure you enjoy yourself.
Pleasure is quickly overtaking the fear and anxiety you've been experience all day. Ari clearly knows what he's doing and you're quickly reaching your peak. He's told you not to be quiet about your pleasure so let your appreciation be known, emphasized by riding his face as best you can.
"Ari..." you practically whimper as you grip the sheets. Ari adjusts himself so his mouth is on your clit and you start chanting his name, screaming it as his tongue pushes you over the edge. Groaning as your legs wrap tighter around his head, Ari finds himself appreciating the soft cushion as much as the muscle underneath.
But he's not done with you. Far from it. He lightens his touch as you come down from your orgasm, but he doesn't fully stop. When your legs relax a little, he eagerly readjusts so he can lap up your juices. His nose brushes your clit and you whimper, instinctively trying to pull away, but he isn't having it.
"I said I wanted my beard soaked, Beautiful," Ari growls, giving you a small glare. "And I get what I want."
"Y-y-yes, Ari."
One of Ari's fingers probes your core making you moan and his mouth returns to your pearl as he continues to study your reactions. He pulls a few more orgasms from you, each one causing your body to feel more and more like jelly. Your mind can't keep track of how of how long he's been worshiping your cunt. All you know is the push and pull of his pleasure inducing ministrations.
Ari revels in learning how responsive your body is, hearing your voice screaming his name, giving in to him.
When he can't hold back any longer, Ari stands and takes off the rest of his clothes. You take the time to catch your breath but your curiosity also has you lifting your head to get a look at your husband. Ari catches you looking and smirks as he frees his erection and sees your eyes widen.
"It's all for you, Beautiful," he declares, pumping himself a few times.
Kissing up your front, he moves to cage you underneath him. In addition to the tickles from his beard, you can feel the dampness of your juices that have soaked his beard. You didn't know you could get so wet! You whimper as his cock nudges your overly sensitive clit but Ari silences you with a passionate kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue, feeling his weight, your hips start rolling as your pussy demands to be filled.
"So eager for me," Ari teases, making you wince in embarrassment.
"Ah, ah, ah," he chides, gripping your chin and moving you to face him. When you meet his eyes, his hand slides down to your neck, applying a small amount of pressure. "I want you eager. I want you to be a slut for my cock."
"Y-y-you always get w--what you want," you remember him saying before he melted your brain.
"Good girl," he growls as he angles himself in front of your core.
Ari gives in to his urges and sheaths himself in one stroke making you keen. His eyes never leave your face, memorizing how entrancing you look, how enthralling you sound. Giving you minimal time to adjust, he ruts into you, unable and unwilling to hold back. Especially as your nails dig into his back and you cry out.
"That's it, Beautiful," he coos, voice gravely. "You're taking me so well I'm gonna give you everything. Everything every day until you get it finally sinks in that I want you."
You can tell he's talking but you can't spare the brainpower to figure out what he's saying. The fullness is too much but somehow feels so damn good. The stretch of him burns with a toe curling blend of pleasure and pain. His weight, his growls, his demanding pace have you speeding towards another wave of pleasure. As you reach another crest, you scream his name.
You should be scared at how much pleasure Ari is able to give you. But he is also the first man you've been with to show such enthusiasm. He makes you crave more. More of his touch. More of his praise. More of him.
Ari cums with a roar and your pussy clenches around him. For a few moments he's dazed and he lets himself relax into your soft body, hands kneading you to ground himself.
"Knew you'd be good for me," he rasps. "So I better prove myself good for you. Let's get you some water and then I'll clean you up. Even though I'm just going to turn you into a mess again."
You chuckle softly underneath him and he purrs at the sensation before getting up to take care of you.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Warning: Hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, name Steve being a jealous lil butthole.
Summary: Steve doesn't like that you're dating someone new after a breakup.
A/N: This was for @elixirfromthestars arcade game Prompts I got: "I don't think my heart can take watching you love someone else again." "Did I ever really matter to you?"
Word Count: 742
Jeremy (boyfriend not boyfriend?)
You and Steve have been broken up for almost two years now, and in those two years you have repaired what Steve broke. Yes, the breakup was mutual, so you keep saying, but Steve was the one that brought it up first. Something about needing to find himself and you need to find yourself in order to grow, blah blah blah. It was all a bunch of bullshit.
Steve watched you every Friday night come home from a date with a guy he absolutely despises. Every Friday when you came home, you had a huge smile on your face, one that used to belong to him. He wasn't your boyfriend, just someone you spent your Friday nights with at least that's how you saw it.
One weekend you brought him over to the compound for game night. The first game was trivia, then charades, and finally a version of the "newlywed game" basically a "who knows who better" game. Steve got paired with Bucky, Sam with Natasha, Tony with Pepper, You with Jeremy. Everyone was doing great, it got to you and Jeremy. Tony asked all the questions, even ones that no one else was asked.
"Tony, no one else was asked that question, why are you asking him?" You rolled your eyes, looking over at him.
"It's a simple question." Tony smirked and looked at Steve from his peripheral.
"Well, to answer your question, Tony. No, we haven't had sex." Jeremy rolled his eyes and glared over at you.
You sunk down in your seat. That question ended game night. Some thought Tony ruined it, others didn't seem to mind. You were helping Steve clean up the living room while the others made popcorn and got blankets.
"So, it's getting serious between you and Jeremy?" Steve broke the silence, you stood up straight holding random piece of paper in your hand.
"Uh, kind of? Not really." You looked over at Jeremy who sat at the island with a disgusted loo on his face.
"Can I be honest?" Steve turned toward you
"Yeah, what's up." You mimicked his movements.
"I don't think it's going to work out. I mean come on Y/N, look at him he's sitting there not doing anything with a disgusted look on his face judging everyone."
"I don't really think it's your place to think anything, but honestly." You exhaled deeply "You're right, between you and me, I've been unhappy for a while."
"Y/N—"
"No, I can't keep pretending that I don't miss you. I'm still in love with you, Steve."
"Wow, I mean I always had a feeling but wow." Jeremy was now behind you, chuckling coldly.
You froze in your spot, you cursed to yourself and slowly turned around.
"I'm sorry, but I meant what I said. I can't keep pretending." You shrugged your shoulders, standing tall.
"I only used you to get in good with the avengers anyway." He shrugged and walked out of the compound.
You watched him walk away, a part of you was relieved but at the same time you're all alone again. You needed someone to fill the void of Steve. You turned and looked at everyone.
"I'm sorry for ruining the night, I just couldn't do it anymore. Steve I'm sorry for springing that on you as well."
"Don't be." Steve took a step towards you. "Please come back to me, I don't think my heart can take watching you love someone else again."
"Just please answer me this." You mimicked his movements. "Did I ever really matter to you?"
"You mattered more than the entire universe to me, I have never been more in love than I am with you." His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you closer to him.
"If you two don't kiss so we can watch the damn movie." Tony interjected from behind you.
You smiled up at Steve and leaned in pressing your lips softly against his. When the two of you finally pulled back, the rest of the group already set up the blankets. You looked at the loveseat and saw the blanket Steve got you for your birthday, you exhaled happily and sat down, opening the blanket for him.
The rest of the night was filled with laughter and small commentary that made you laugh even harder. Sure, you felt bad for how things ended with Jeremy, but truthfully, he was dead weight and you were happy to get rid of him.
A/N: I'm sorry if this is a little rushed, i needed to post something, and i hope you guys like it, if you want to be tagged in future fics comment here or send me a message. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. 🥰
Summary: A quick update on each Tech Tuesday story!
Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
Bucky & Sweetie
"Maybe going back to school wasn't such a good idea," you groan at the books spread out in front of you.
"Brain melting?" Robby asks from the couch. He's been playing games on his Switch more often as he tries to adjust to the new routine of your going to school and his own part-time work.
"It'll be draining out my ears soon, I'm sure," you joke. You're rewarded by a small chuckle of acknowledgement.
"You should ask Bucky for help," he offers. "You always do better when he's around."
You blink several times, surprised at the observation. Robby can be insightful from time to time, but no one can ever predict when.
"Maybe I should," you shrug.
"I'm glad Bucky's nice. You deserve someone nice."
"I'll make sure he knows you approve of him," you smile.
Curtis & Heart
Feeling dead on your feet, you're grateful to finally be able to clock out of your shift. Halfway to your car you hear the familiar tone indicating Curtis had sent you a message.
From your lock screen you read, "I think I've been adopted."
Huh? you think, tiredness pushed to the side.
Opening your phone you're able to see the attached photo and you're unable to hold back a little "awww!" The image shows a tiny, black kitten curled up in what can only be Curtis' beanie.
"Details NOW 🤩" you message back.
Back in his apartment, Curtis smiles at your response and coos at his new friend who's asleep on his chest. He texts you the story of how Soot found him and Maestro helped him sneak her into the office.
"Thinking of taking up sewing or knitting or something so I can make her cute little outfits," he confesses.
When you read that you swear you can feel your heart melting. You're really so damn lucky.
Double G's
"No D&D this weekend," Geralt groans as he reads the message aloud.
G replies with a small grunt. Neither of them are too surprised given that the Jensen family has been sick recently.
"Likely to happen more often with the Twins in school," Geralt continues.
G nods, We can be patient. For them.
Geralt lets out a small huff, it's still irritating.
G gives a sympathetic wince, No question.
Geralt looks over at his crafting corner. He's recently had to move it out of his bedroom because he would stay up late working on the millions of ideas he'd gotten. Finding an accepting social group has led to a burst of creativity and interest in trying new techniques. He used to have to work in spite of everyone, but that's changing.
G doesn't need words to understand his partner's thought process. For his own part, finding someone who doesn't make fun of his choice in shows has led him to expanding to others he'd previously shrugged off. Finding acceptance has let them learn that they don't always have to put up an air of defiance or indifference.
For once, change was nice.
Jake & Sunshine
"That's D&D cancelled," you sigh.
"Thank you," Jake sniffles. It was finally his turn to catch the worst of it from the germ factory that is the Twins' preschool.
"Maybe we can test out a virtual table top sometime," you propose. "I'm sure everyone would appreciate the option of playing without risking getting sick."
"Mama?" a small voice from the living room calls out. "Is Dada doing better? Can he play Mario Kart yet?"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" you exclaim as you barely get away from the new hacker hired to protect the traffickers' servers.
Your skills alone haven't been enough. As much as you hate to admit it, you need Torch. But that would mean apologizing. Maybe even being a little vulnerable. Can you afford that?
Can you afford not to?
Gritting your teeth, you set up your safe, private chat with Torch.
I need your help.
Sitting on his couch, trying to watch sports, Johnny jumps as he hears the notification. He shouldn't be so eager to talk to you. Your last conversation hit him hard. Even the G's had noticed and made sure to gift him a few cans of wasabi peas.
But if you needed help, he wanted, needed, to provide.
Jonathan & Rose
It's been a few weeks since your pregnancy scare. A few weeks of feeling guilty for not confiding in Jonathan. A few weeks of being incredibly grateful for a man who respects your privacy and trusts you.
But tonight, you need to tell him about what happened. It's clear he's worried about you, possibly about your relationship, since you said you need a night to yourself. Plus, you need answers for yourself. How would he react if you did end up pregnant? Would that be the line? It's time to learn.
Sure, talking about this in bed might be...cheating. It's hard to be mad at someone when you're holding each other. But it's where you feel safest talking to him about intimate things.
Before you enter the bedroom, Jonathan is looking at the small box in his nightstand. The one containing the ring he bought in December. He quickly closes the drawer when he hears your footsteps getting close. He can tell you've been wanting to talk to him and he doesn't want the prospect of him proposing to scare you off.
Lloyd & Maestro
t was impossibly tense in the quiet room. Considering both of his sons became lawyers, you can't say you're surprised Lloyd's dad had turned to a non-family member for things like his living will. With the stroke effectively making him unsound of mind and body, it was agreed to have a reading of the advanced directive to see who was financially responsible for what.
"Should my family wish to inherit a share of my assets, they must each cover a share of the cost cost of my care," the lawyer read.
You've been trying to pay attention, for Lloyd's sake. You don't miss how Andrew and Lloyd's stepmom straighten up at this part. Vultures, you think.
"As my eldest son has only ever supported himself and has no other family to speak of, his share of the cost is expected to be 40%---"
"Fucker!" Lloyd exclaims.
"Guess you should've been more of a family man," Andrew sneers.
"May I continue?" the lawyer raises an eyebrow. The brothers nod. "And he will receive 25% of the estate upon my death. If, however, he manages to marry, his share of the cost will drop to 33% as it will be expected of each member of my family to contribute evenly. His share of the estate will also rise to 33%."
Andrew's jaw drops and Lloyd lets out a loud laugh.
Turning to you Lloyd winks, "wanna go to Vegas?"
Mike & Boss Lady
"Hey cutie," you wink at Mike as you sit across from him in the booth. "You look so tired. Are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah," he gently shakes his head. "Jake's been...he's been sick so, even though I'm new, I've been...having to do a lot."
Nodding in understanding, you gently take his hand and start rubbing your thumb along his knuckles.
"You've been stepping up," you comment. "It's not easy at all, but you're doing it. I'm proud of you."
Mike feels his heart skip a beat when you say that. "It's...it's just what you're supposed to do, right? The whole 'adulting' thing?"
"Yeah, but not everyone does it so well," you counter. "Or they do and they spend the whole time bitching about it. You're right to be proud of your work." His blush deepens and you smirk. "In fact, how about I buy dinner? You deserve a reward for how hard you've been working."
Mike swears he's died and gone to heaven.
Ransom & Bubbles
Ransom's kisses were intoxicating. You swear you'll never get enough of them. His touches were electric, exciting you so much more than any dreams you'd had of him.
It made you feel bad whenever you said you needed to stop. No matter how many times Ransom told you it was okay, that he could understand going from nothing to everything could be a lot, you still felt like you owed him an apology. You almost lost Ransom because he needed sex. Would he really be patient with you until you were ready?
For his part, Ransom was content. Your kisses were delicious, regardless of how gentle or rough they were. Your touches filled a need he'd had for so long. Your gasps and moans were beautiful and he truly could never get enough of them.
He knows you have your doubts, but he really will wait for you to be ready. Your emotional connection was too important to risk ever losing again.
Steve & Newbie
"I think I'm understanding why you started baking," Steve comments as he looks over your calendar. "So many relatives, so many birthdays!"
Laughing, you nod, "and baked goods are more cost effective gifts. Not to mention, every time I get to baking, I get a little better at it."
Coming up behind you, Steve wraps his arms around your waist and gently kisses your shoulder. "Makes me think about learning to dance. Something I always wanted to do but could never find a partner for. I knew I'd forget how if I didn't practice."
"Any dance style in particular?" you breathe, leaning into Steve.
Steve starts gently rocking from foot to foot, mimicking a dance. "I'm thinking something slow, at least at first."
"Building up to something more...daring?"
"More daring, but no less intimate."
"I think that sounds like fun."
Syverson & Darling
Sighing at Lily, Sy shakes his head. "Look, I understand ya don't wanna leave Darling alone in the apartment. But we gotta get you goin' for a walk. C'mon."
Lily whines and does a little tippy-tap with her front paws.
"She needs her sleep more 'an she needs our protection," Sy tries to reason. "Now c'mon. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back."
Lily whines a little more softly but stops fighting. Sy makes a show of locking the door and proving to Lily that it is locked. She still seems less than trusting.
He understands, he really does. If he could keep you with him at all times during this pregnancy, he would. But a lot of energy goes into making a baby so every chance you get to sleep, he's going to give you. Even if it means he does more work around the apartment. He doesn't mind the chores, especially if it means you get to rest up.
The walk is much quicker than usual. As soon as she's off her leash, Lily is moving to the bedroom to make sure you're still there and still okay. Sy does the same.
Walter & Spitfire
"So we're agreed, Ransom is off the shitlist?" you ask over coffee.
"I'll follow your lead on that one," Walter admits.
"Hmm..." you tap your chin. "He has become less of an asshole in general. He's treating Bubbles very well, finally. And he has apologized for teasing me for my height."
"Is that apology enough?"
"Considering he actually meant it? I'm going to say...probably yes."
Walter chuckles. "If that ever changes, let me know. I can make sure he gets the crappiest hardware for work."
"I appreciate you having my back," you smile.
What you don't say out loud is how much safer you feel with him around. How you know it's difficult for him to let you take the lead on things.
What Walter doesn't say out loud is how much more peaceful he feels with you around. How grateful he is to be learning to take a back seat. When you feel like you have to handle everything, the world gets stressful and it's easy to get grumpy. You've taught him a lot about sharing the load.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader x Bucky Barnes | Stucky x F!Reader
WC: ~2.5k
Warnings: MDNI | Established relationship | Domestic fluff | Cavity-causing Fluff | Language | Hot supersoldiers alert | Admiring Steve chopping wood | Shirtless Supersoldiers | Protective Supersoldiers| Threesome | A tad bit of smut | Poly relationship | Unbeta'd | Littleshit supersoldiers on the loose | Protective! Supersoldiers | Supersoldier Sandwich | Soft!dom Steve | Soft!dom Bucky | Lemme know if I'm missing anything.
A/N: Thanks for the ask, my love. For some reason, I'm unable to reply to your ask @anika-ann So here is what you kindled. You've unleashed my writing flow. Forever grateful for ya, my sweet. 💗😊 Writing my first fic after a looooooooooooong time. Good gosh it's been a year or so...Kindly bear with me! This is also my submission for Vivifying Valentine's Atelier | Prompt: Tease me and see where that'll get you. And, submission for Steve Rogers Bingo Round 5 | C-3 | @steverogersbingo
Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. Banner & Divider made by me. Picture credits to Pinterest. Check out my other works: Masterlist
Set in Captain Softly Stern and Sergeant Toughly Tender universe!
Indulge Away!
Stupid dumb dipshit!
It was near about an hour, and he was still going on.
Feeling trapped in a circular, exhausting debate that felt like it was draining the very marrow from your bones, you were screaming internally. The senior tech lead, a man whose ego was clearly larger than the size of the compound was currently dissecting your calculations for the thermal arrays.
As he spoke, you felt a hot, prickly irritation crawl over your skin.
Every time he said, "Well, actually, if you understood the dynamics..." a new knot of frustration twisted in your chest, teetering on the edge of a jagged explosion. You found yourself staring at the glass casing of the thermal cooler, genuinely wondering if you could shove his giant head inside it if he mansplained one more time.
You were tired AF.
Then, the heavy pressurized doors hissed open. You didn't even look up at first, assuming it was another intern bringing more bad news. But then, the room went unnaturally silent and you looked up.
Steve Rogers Captain America stepped in.
The tech lead actually took a physical step back, his bravado evaporating the moment Steve's shadow fell over him.
"Excuse me," Steve said. The frequency of his voice seemed to vibrate right through the frantic noise in your head, obliterating half of your stress instantly. He didn't even acknowledge the other man's existence. His blue eyes locked onto yours, softening with a look of deep, observant concern.
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
You blinked, your brain struggling to switch gears from liquid cooling to your man.
"Steve? I'm right in the middle of a…" You gestured vaguely at the mess of schematics. It was a damned meeting you'd been praying to escape for hours, but the professional guilt still clung to you.
"It's kinda urgent," he repeated, his eyebrows scrunched in a way that made your heart jump. You quickly gave a once-over. He looked alright. Your mind immediately went to Bucky…was he hurt? Was there a mission that you were not aware of? You'd been so busy you felt like floating through the days. Without another word to the stunned tech lead, you excused yourself and followed Steve into the hallway.
As soon as the doors closed behind you, Steve turned immediately, his large hand winding around your waist to pull you into his space. You stumbled slightly, steadying yourself with your hands flat against his firm chest.
"Steve, what's going on? Is everything…"
"You look like you're about to snap in half," he murmured, cutting you off. He reached up, his thumb grazing the pulse point at the base of your throat, feeling the frantic rhythm of your lingering adrenaline. "Bucky's downstairs. The car is packed. We're leaving."
"Steve, I can't," you protested, your hands flying up to gesture wildly at the door you'd just exited. "We're a week behind on the next design phase, and if I don't finish figuring things out, the whole project stalls…"
"You've got five minutes," he interrupted.
His voice dropped an octave, shifting into that 'Captain' tone, the one that had led armies. It wrapped around you like an unyielding vine. It was a gentle warning, but a warning nonetheless.
"Go back in there, tell them what they need to know for the weekend. If you aren't out by the time the clock hits five, I'm coming back in there and putting you over my shoulder. I don't care who's watching."
You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him about the deadlines and the arrays, but the steady, burning look in his eyes stopped the words cold. He wasn't joking. He was perfectly willing to carry you through a building full of high-ranking scientists.
"Five minutes," he reminded you, stepping back just enough to let you move, though his gaze never left your face. He leaned in one last time, a mischievous glint glimmering in his eyes. "Personally? I'd love an excuse to come back in and get you."
You rolled your eyes, a reluctant, exhausted smile finally breaking through the stress. You knew when you were beaten, and you were beaten long ago. Turning back toward the door, you prepared to give the tech lead the shortest briefing of his life.
Bucky was leaning against the driver's side door, looking far too relaxed in that blue Henley.
As you reached him, trailing behind Steve with your arms crossed and a pout that was mostly performative at this point, Bucky reached out. He cupped your jaw, tilting your face up.
"Thought for sure you'd be coming out over his shoulder," Bucky chuckled, as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss.
"I would've been if I stayed one second longer," you grumbled, though the fight was rapidly draining out of you.
Steve's grin widened, triumphant and impossibly bright as he tossed your laptop bag into the car. He looked back at Bucky, clapping a hand on the roof of the SUV.
"Told ya," he said, his voice brimming with that insufferable lift. "Five-minute warning worked like a charm. Didn't even have to break out the tactical carry."
"You need a break, sweetheart, and that's that." Bucky reaffirmed.
"I'm just outnumbered," you muttered against his chest as he pulled you into a quick, rib-crushing hug.
"Correct," Bucky murmured, already steering you toward the open passenger door with a smirk. "Now get in the car before Steve decides he wants to jog to the cabin and pull us there himself."
Steve scoffed, pulling you in for a kiss.
Charming idiots.
The transition from the sterile tension of the lab to the silence of the woods was almost jarring. As the SUV crunched over the last stretch of gravel, the cabin emerged from the treeline like something pulled from a dream--surreal, secluded, and perfect. Just stunningly perfect.
The structure was a beautiful contradiction of rugged timber and soft, inviting light. On the north side, the forest seemed to be trying to reclaim it; thick, ancient branches of hemlock and oak draped over the roof like a heavy green velvet cloak, shielding it from the rest of the world.
On the south side, the cabin opened up to a sprawling stone patio. It was laid with irregular flags of slate that still held the dying warmth of the afternoon sun. A set of Adirondack chairs sat perched near a fieldstone fire pit, overlooking a steep drop that revealed a breathtaking view of the valley below, now swathed in the purple haze of twilight.
Heavenly.
It was chilly, biting at your cheeks with a crispness that tasted of damp earth and pine resin. Every time you inhaled, the cold felt like it was scrubbing the scent of recycled office air out of your lungs. Your breathing finally leveled out, smoothing into a steady, deep cadence. For the first time in weeks, the only "thermal array" you had to worry about was the heat of the hearth waiting for you inside.
You gasped at the beauty of it all. As you looked around amazed at the scenary, Bucky decided to give you a piggyback ride and who in the right mind would say no to that.
As soon you stepped in, you were carried straight to the bedroom.
In no time, you were stripped and spread between your two men.
"One more, Plum, you can give us one more," Bucky groaned, his thrusts deepening.
You shook your head, whimpering in pleasure.
"She will, Buck," Steve rasped against your neck, pulling your thighs wider for Bucky to grind deliciously against you. With your back to Steve's front, he easily wrapped an arm around your throat, pulling your head up to give you a kiss.
You cried out loud as Bucky decided it was the moment to suck on your tit. In mere seconds, you were falling apart. Bucky groaned, pulling your face close to look you in the eye as he came.
"So pretty, babygirl," he whispered, tugging you into his arms and you let him. Their intoxicating smell wafting around you and the fire crackling in the hearth put you asleep in mere seconds.
You lay there, head smushed on Bucky's chest, limbs tangled between Steve's thighs, and fingers clutching onto Steve's hand, which was wrapped around your waist. They had cleaned you up and put on a soft, oversized t-shirt.
Steve waited a full five minutes after your eyes closed before he dared to move, gently tucking the edge of the blanket around your chin. "Look at her," he whispered, his voice thick with affection wrapped in worry. "You should've seen her in that lab, Buck. I thought she was going to bite that guy's head off."
Bucky let out a silent huff of a laugh, his chest vibrating against your back. He adjusted his arm protectively wrapping you more closer to him weight across your waist.
"Look at those eyebags, she's fucking sapped," Bucky whispered.
"Stubborn as a mule," Steve said, moving closer.
"You mean to say as stubborn as you?" Bucky raised a brow.
Steve rolled his eyes, scoffing weakly.
Bucky snorted, the sound raspy in the quiet room. "Don't you start, Punk. With all the 'I can do this all day.' Where do you think she learned that it's okay to run yourself into the ground?"
"I am not that stubborn," Steve countered, though his protest was weak.
"Right," Bucky whispered, his eyes gleaming with fond exasperation in the firelight. "Honestly, Steve, between the two of you, I'm the only reasonable one in this relationship."
Steve raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Bucky, "Reasonable? You're the one who wanted to barge in and beat the shit out of the people worrying her."
"Hey," Bucky muttered defensively, his jaw tightening slightly before he softened again, looking down at you.
Steve reached over, his hand resting briefly on Bucky's shoulder, bridging the gap over your sleeping form. "Well, she's here now."
"Yeah," Bucky murmured, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the cushion. "Mission accomplished."
Bucky had breakfast ready the moment you'd stepped through the door. You tried to sidestep him, your mind still buzzing with the phantom sleep and the orgasms, but Bucky was faster. With a low, rumbling hum of disagreement, he snagged your waist, his large hand anchoring you before he effortlessly pulled you back and settled you firmly onto his lap.
"I'm not hungry, Buck," you insisted, your voice small as you tried to wiggle away from the heat of his chest.
"Oh, I'm not asking, Plum," he countered, his voice a smooth, gravelly command that brooked no argument. He picked up the fork, his metal fingers glinting under the kitchen lights as he held a perfect bite toward you. "Now open your mouth."
Your protests were wild, a flurry of "I'm fine" and "maybe later," but he simply waited you out with that steady, unimpressed gaze until you finally gave in. You let him feed you, one bite at a time.
"Good girl," Bucky murmured with a soft, satisfied smile, leaning in to press a warm kiss to your cheek the moment the plate was clear.
"What's he up to?" you asked, glancing toward the empty hallway, curious about the sudden lack of your other man.
"He's outside," Bucky said, shifting his weight comfortably beneath you. "Chopping some wood."
Your eyebrows shot up instantly, a devious spark lighting up your eyes as you realized exactly what that entailed. "And we're sitting here and missing out?" you asked, a breathless chuckle escaping you as you started to scramble off his lap. "Absolutely not. Let's go."
Bucky let out a short, rhythmic snicker, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched your sudden surge of energy. "Yes, ma'am," he said, offering no resistance as you grabbed his hand and began dragging him toward the door, eager to find where the sound of the axe was echoing through the trees.
You and Bucky settled on the weathered, wooden porch stairs. You leaned into him, your shoulder tucking under his, and he didn't hesitate, draping his thick arm around you, his thumb tracing absentminded circles over your arm as he rested his cheek against the top of your head.
Steve stood planted, his legs set wide for stability, the heavy splitting maul resting momentarily on the block. His skin is already gleaming, a light sheen of sweat catching the warm light, accentuating the deep, familiar contours of his physique...the broad slope of his shoulders, the thick ropes of his biceps, and the V-taper leading to his waist.
Good lord!
With an easy grace, he hoisted the maul high. The muscles across his back bunched and tightened. Muscles so fucking defined that it made you want to climb him up. He paused for a heartbeat at the apex before unleashing the downward swing with smooth power.
The maul dropped with brutal speed, hitting the dead center of the log. There's a sharp CRACK that echoed off the trees, and the two halves of the log spring apart symmetrically, landing neatly at his feet. Steve barely broke the rhythm. Before the sound even faded, he'd bent down to hoist the next piece of oak onto the block. He took a breath, his chest expanding, a slight ripple passing through his abdominal muscles as he readied the maul once more. The fragrance of pine resin and freshly split wood drifted thick on the cool air, mingling with the primal scent of your soldier.
Fuckin' hell!
What did you do to deserve your godly men? You were a lucky bitch, alright.
"Here to help me?" Steve asked, his voice carried effortlessly through the clearing. He didn't stop his rhythm. He reached down, calloused fingers hooking into a fresh log of oak, and hoisted it onto the stump with a grunt of effort that made the muscles in his forearms cord like steel cable.
Show off.
"No," you said, a traitorous giggle bubbling up as you watched the way the rising sun caught the sheen of sweat on his shoulder blades. You tucked your chin closer to Bucky's chest, hiding a devious smirk. "We're strictly here for the entertainment. It's a very high-quality show."
Steve paused, the heavy splitting maul resting near his boots. He looked over his shoulder, squinting against the golden hour light, his hair tousled and damp against his forehead. "You coming, Buck? Or are you just going to sit there with our girl and objectify me?"
Bucky didn't move an inch. He just squeezed you a little tighter, his chest vibrating with a low, rumbling chuckle. "What she said," he jested, his voice raspy and relaxed. He tilted his head, eyeing Steve's form with an appreciative sort of mischief. "Besides, you look fine without my help. Real fine."
"Real fine," you echoed with a dramatic, dreamy sigh, letting your head fall back against Bucky's shoulder so you could take in the full view of Steve's V-tapered back.
Steve let out a huff. With one final, fluid motion, he brought the maul down, burying the blade deep into the heart of the last log with a final, echoing thud. He left it there, the handle quivering, and turned fully toward the porch.
He stood there for a moment, chest heaving with the exertion, hands settling on his hips. He was flushed from the work, his skin glowing in the amber light, but it was the stupidly cute, lopsided smile on his face that really did you in.
"Tease me and see where that'll get you," he declared, his voice dropping into that low, 'Captain' register that usually made people stand at attention, but here, it was a playful promise.
That, of course, was all the permission you and Bucky needed. The teasing only intensified as Steve finally bridged the gap between the chopping block and the porch, smelling of fresh wood shavings and salt. He didn't just give you a good time, he showed you a real fine time.
Well? 😏
Take a moment to reblog if you enjoyed reading it. 🥹
Set in Captain Softly Stern and Sergeant Toughly Tender universe!
Summary: It's a sick day (or two) for the Jensen family.
Warnings: Illness, Parental stress. Please let me know if I missed any!
A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.
Previous
Series Masterlist; Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
You and Jake had heard the jokes for years. You knew they were based in reality, but you'd yet to live that reality.
Well now the entire family is sick because of something the Twins brought home with them from preschool and those jokes seemed a lot less funny.
Luke and Leia seemed able to sleep through a lot of it. They hated the medicine but seeing Dada and Mama taking theirs helped them to push through. It broke your heart to see their little faces so red and puffy, hearing their pathetic little coughs and sniffles. Leia, normally so energetic, was visibly frustrated with not being able to do as much and getting tired so easily. Luke was even more grumpy than when he had to get up in the mornings.
Thankfully Jake had a decent work-from-home agreement with the company. You're both pretty sure Syverson and Jonathan are grateful to not have illnesses spreading through their department, let alone the building. It was also sometimes fun to hear Jake trying to talk the new hire, Mike, through some of the things he hadn't thought to include in the training.
"Oh, right, before you head up, word of warning: Enid is a talker," Jake explains, voice raspy from a sore throat. "Keep your work phone with you and, after 10 minutes, I'll send you a text about 'something urgent' that you can show her. It'll still probably take a few minutes for her to let you go, but it'll save us both a lot of time."
"You got it," the chipper voice on the other end of the call says.
One of these days you'll meet Mike for yourself, but for now the thought of being seen is very unappealing. You're certain you look like death warmed over, especially given how zombie-like your movements feel.
Thankfully for everyone, you've prepared a bit for this. The freezer is stocked with, well, stock. Broth that you can heat up for when food can't be stomached. Soups of all kinds for when it can be and the patient is picky. You just have to keep the brain fog from getting to you too often.
But that's what alarms are for. Especially as they pair well with Jake's work alerts. Alarms to make sure no one is being over-medicated. Alarms to make sure eating is at least attempted so everyone has the strength to fight. Alarms to make sure everyone is drinking enough water. So many alarms it's giving you a headache as you try to get your family healthy again, even as you're fighting the illness, and a massive headache, yourself.
"Hey Sunshine," Jake coos, gesturing you to sit next on the couch next to him. "You look like you could use some rest."
"The kids are sick and you're working. I'll be okay."
Jake pats the spot next to him. "I'm working, but my work is easy compared to what you're doing. Please sit and rest? I know you haven't been sleeping well."
"No one in this household is sleeping well," you counter, even as you move to snuggle up to Jake. "Is your camera off?"
"It is," Jake promises. "I don't need to scare the people at work with how pale I've gotten."
"Maybe we should all be zombies for Halloween," you huff. "Feels like we're getting good practice for the role."
Jake laughs hard enough he starts coughing. You move to get up but he wraps an arm around you as he grabs his tea. He might not be feeling well, but his arms are still strong enough to make you feel safe as you snuggle into him.
"Been getting some offers of help from some of the people at work," he tells you as kisses the top of your head. "The G's are offering to bring over some of their extra strong disinfectants. Syverson and Darling are offering to bring over some food so you don't have to cook anything. Rose, Ransom and even Steve and Bucky have offered to run some errands if we need."
"You work with some really nice people," you hum. "But I'm certain they're really nice because you're so warm and welcoming to them. And not even in the annoyingly obnoxious way, either."
"To be fair, a lot of that is you."
"Oh please," you roll your eyes, too tired to fight back more.
"It's true! For the longest time I was just running on fumes, emotionally. Wanted to let new people in because I was so lonely, but didn't have the energy because I kept expecting failure. Then I meet this smoking hot woman who loves Pokemon and knits her own sweaters and I feel like I have the energy to conquer the world."
You hum sleepily and Jake keeps talking quietly about all the ways you've made his life better, helping you drift off into some much needed sleep.
When he hears your gentle snoring, Jake stops talking. He kisses the top of your head and gets back to work. He'll be slow going, because you're holding onto his left arm, but he doesn't mind. He's not moving that arm until you're ready for him to let you go. It's the least he can do for the wealth of happiness you've brought him.
A/N: Reader is female, nickname Heart. No physical descriptors used.
Warnings: Abusive ex, Hospital setting. Please let me know if I missed any.
Previous
Series Masterlist; Tech Tuesday Masterlist
"Gotta admit, that sounds like a killer first date for the two of you," Maestro chuckles to Curtis as they ate lunch together.
Curtis smirks back. "Definitely too 'vanilla' for you and Lloyd."
Maestro shrugs, "not everyone can be as awesome as us."
"Thank god for that!" Curtis teases.
"But you've got plans for the next date?"
"Tentative," Curtis replies, smile dropping a bit. "She's gotta see what her work schedule is like. She doesn't want to be on call and on a date. I tell her it's okay, I get it if she's needed. She works at a hospital for crying out loud."
Maestro gives him a sympathetic look. "Hey, speaking as someone who was also damn near broken by an asshole, let me just assure you you're going at it in the right way."
"That means a lot," Curtis nods. "So how's Mr. Mustache handling the move?"
Maestro giggles and the two spend the rest of their lunch in a friendly banter about the pains of moving to a new place.
Chase's improvement should be good news. A patient who was near death getting better is supposed to be cause for celebration. Instead you're counting down the days until he can be transferred out of the ICU. You're dreading the next scribbled note asking to see you. You were able to brush off the last one as he'd slipped back into unconsciousness. But he's getting better, staying awake longer, and you won't get the excuse.
At the same time, you just want to rip off the metaphorical bandage and confront him. Tell him he's never going to get you back. That he'll never be in your life ever again. Sure, it won't be good for his healing, but you need to keep yourself safe.
In any case, stressing about the confrontation you don't know will happen is not helping with your work. The paperwork on the screen is blurring and you need to check on some patient vitals. You need to focus on work but, just like when you were dating, Chase's presence fills you with too much dread to do anything but be on guard for his next verbal attack.
Maybe you need a different voice to help you out.
You text Curtis: Can I call you? Not an emergency.
Curtis hears the message app on his phone ding and he immediately pauses his game to see what you need. He messages back to call whenever you want.
Slipping away from the Nurse's Station, you give Curtis a call.
"Hey, beautiful," he answers.
"Hey, handsome," you answer, a smile forming on your face. "Thanks for...for letting me call. I was...."
"Stressing about a future problem?"
You breathe out a chuckle, "pretty much. And you've got a voice that I like to listen to."
"Oh really?" You can hear his smirk over the phone and it makes you giggle. "Don't think I've ever been complimented on my voice before."
"Well I can promise you it's a very good voice. I bet you could make a killing narrating audiobooks."
"But then I'd have to deal with fangirls throwing themselves at me every time they---" Curtis can't stop the laugh wells up at the thought. "Couldn't even finish the sentence. My voice is only this good for you."
"I'm honored," you smile, feeling shy.
After a brief silence you build up your courage and ask, "what would you do if I was with you right now?"
"Honestly? I'd hold you."
Your shoulders relax a little at the response. "Yeah? Just hold me?"
"Just? Clearly you've never been held properly," Curtis gently kids. "Hold you close, arms wrapped around you, your face in my chest. Blocking out the entire rest of the world for you so all you know is warmth and safety."
You don't realize the effect the imagery is having on you until you sniffle.
"Are you okay? Did I go too far?" Curtis asks, his concern evident.
"You're good, you're good," you reassure. "I just...I didn't realize how much I needed that."
"I'm happy to help," he promises. He says it so often, maybe one of these days you'll believe him.
"Okay, I should get back to work. Thank you for letting me...for being there for me. For being so sweet and...so you."
"Anything for you, Heart."
You hang up the phone and take a few breaths before heading back to work.
Calling Curtis seems to have done the trick. Your paperwork and rounds don't feel so impossible anymore. You're even able to give your patients reassuring smiles. You'll have to be sure to thank Curtis for that.
It isn't until Vanessa shows up with a note in her hand that you tense up again.
"His handwriting ain't pretty, but it's got your name on it," she shakes her head. "You don't have to go over there. He's got other nurses assigned to him and you've got your work to do."
You take a deep breath. "No, it's okay. I need...I need to end this..."
"Torturous anticipation?"
"Yeah, that!"
"Okay. Just know you can take some time off if you need it," she reassures. "You've got a lot of it saved up, at least."
Because there's always too much work to do, you think. You know better than to say it aloud. Taking a few deep breaths, you think of Curtis being there with you, supporting you. You know he'd have your back, no matter how cruel you felt you were being to Chase. Lines have to be drawn and you will do this.
Chase's eyes are open and he's looking around. The dark lines under his eyes, the surgical marks that still look red and angry, the oxygen mask. He's looking more broken and pathetic than you've ever seen him.
"Hello, Chase."
His eyes widen as he looks in your direction. He looks like he might cry. You will yourself to stay strong. His tears can't influence you any more. He tries to talk, but with how much his damage his ribs took, even breathing can be painful. You put up a hand to stop him and gesture to the pen and paper in his hand.
He looks pained but he writes, gesturing to you when he's done.
"I'm sorry"
"Apology not accepted," you shrug. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got patients to look after."
You turn to leave and he lets out one of the most pained sounds you've ever heard. The heart rate monitor starts picking up speed. You force yourself to stop and turn back to him.
He's writing again.
"Hurting you biggest regret"
"Be that as it may, you need to stop trying to get my attention and focus on your healing. Goodness knows you're well versed in putting your needs first. Now stop asking for me so I can work."
You turn and walk fast before you can let his sad, hurt eyes work their way into making you feel guilty. Before he can see your tears.
