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Steve Rogers - Blog Posts
REQUESTS???
hey y’all so imma start writing on here, if you wanna read some of my wattpad stories you can find that here: https://my.w.tt/xKdtCKmXmM
BUT ANYWAYS!! I will list down below who i will write for, keep in mind, these are who i feel most comfortable writing ? i will end up changing them probs in the future but for rn it’s what i got :)
MARVEL:
- Bucky Barnes
- Steve Rogers
- Natasha Romanoff
- Wanda Maximoff
- Thor
- Peter Quill
- Shuri
- Peter Parker
DC:
- Damian Wayne
- Jason Todd
- Dick Grayson
- Tim Drake
- Wonder Woman
- Harley Quinn
- Stephanie Brown
- Any teen titans character
- Wally West
IT2017 (aged up):
- Richie Tozier
- Beverly Marsh
- maybe Eddie ??
STRANGER THINGS:
- Billy Hargrove
- Steve Harrington
ngl if i saw captain america in the ice i'd just let him sit there. stay cold homie
a fucking fact is bucky has ALWAYS seen captain america as more than captain america. to him steve and sam are just guys that he loves. just dudes he would die for. this bitch is one of the only men who has taken the time to really look beyond the shield so THERE.
AVENGERS INFINITY WAR
It's today. Today's the day when Tony Stark sacrificed his life to snap Thanos away. And yesterday? Natasha Romanoff sacrificed her life for the soul stone. Tomorrow? Steve Rogers will go back in time to spend time with Peggy. And then dying of old age.
Rest in peace 😔
NOT CHRIS EVANS BEING IN THE NEW TMNT MOVIE AS A CARDBOARD CUT OUT.
I NEED IT
This should get more, much more attention.
Review of some anti-Tony comments from Ao3. Part 6
Let’s talk more about things from Part 1 today:
“Tony was actively attacking someone from behind, who was just trying to leave.”
Eh? So how did that happen that he only attacked from behind ONCE? Semi-behind, to be exact - see my post with Part 1. Why Bucky tried to leave if he was innocent? Just like he did before with T’Challa. “Why did you run?”.
I’ll add the extension of that statement here so we could figure the whole thing out: “Steve was actively defending said person in any way, even if that meant attacking Tony from behind.
And before you get on me about how I'm being hypocritical - it's been done - it isn't the action that's being criticized, it's the WHY behind the action. Tony repeatedly attacked someone from behind who was only trying to flee the scene vs Steve repeatedly attacked someone from behind to protect his best friend from being killed. That's the difference between the two. You can't hold them to the same standard when their reasons for doing the same action are complete opposites. It isn't the action; it's the reasons BEHIND the action.”
Let’s think about the most appropriate thing Bucky could do in the scene instead. Well, first he could say “I’m sorry”. That would be a good start. Doesn’t matter if he was brainwashed or not – his hands were used. “Sorry” is always good in such situations. He didn’t do that.
Instead he raised his gun at Tony and was ready to fire at his face (CA:CW 2:03:15). Yes, Tony hit Cap there. But it was for a reason. And you simply don’t point a gun at a guy who just watched his parents die by your hands, if you are innocent and truly regret this. It was so wrong to attack him that it just showed Bucky’s position “there’s nothing to explain and nothing to apologies for”, if the best thing Bucky could do is to raise his gun and run. Low and cowardly.
But we should actually take a closer look at that scene (starting from 2:02:17), because it’s even more complicated if we watch the scene frame by frame.
2:01:33 – Tony is watching the video of his parents’ death. Steve looks at him with a very interesting expression. At him, not at the video. He already knows what’s going on there. He is looking at Tony for his reaction.
2:01:38 – focus on Bucky who looks a bit regretful, looking at the floor first, but then raising his eyes to Tony.
2:01:53 – Tony hears his father saying “Sergeant Barnes” and his mother calling “Howard!”. Tony glances at Bucky.
2:02:05 – Winter Soldier hits Howard in the head and kills him. Tony’s expression tells us he is enraged.
2:02:25 – Winter Soldier kills Maria, strangling her with his biological hand.
2:02:33 – video ends with Winter Soldier shooting at the camera. Tony is in shock. Steve is looking at him, saying nothing. He had enough time to say something.
2:02:40 – Tony turns to Bucky and makes a step towards him. Not putting his helmet on. He is not attacking yet. Most probably he just wanted to grab him by his jacket and ask some questions or something like that. What Bucky does? He raised his gun at him. We can see tears in his eyes. Why did he do that then?
2:02:42 – Steve says “No, Tony. Tony”. He says that to calm him down, and that would be a good start. But then he does some “stupid-ass decisions”, how Fury would put that.
2:02:45 – Tony turns to him. He is devastated. He just realized something. “Did you know?”. Steve’s eyes are shifting rapidly, and after a long pause (when he was thinking of what to say, I guess), he says “I didn’t know it was him”. By his behavior here we can infer that he is lying. Tony sees it “Don’t bullshit, me Rogers. Did you know?”. Steve looks Tony in the eyes and swallows hard. “Yes”.
Let’s make a digression to show Steve really knew that Bucky killed Tony’s parents.
CA:WS 1:04:50 – Zola is explaining how Hydra eliminated unwanted individuals. Chronicle footage shows Bucky with a sniper rifle and then next frame with news article about Starks’ death. Zola says “Accidents will happen”. Next few frames show Howard in the car in the same position Bucky left him in the CA:CW 2:02:10 scene. Then Fury’s file is shown, “deceased” – another victim of the Winter Soldier. No need to be a genius to put two and two together. Especially when you don’t know that there were other Winter Soldiers yet. There were no other options – Steve and Nat knew that Howard was killed by Bucky from that exact moment. But let’s add more evidence, shall we?
CA:WS 2:05:28 – Natasha gives Bucky’s case files to Steve. Logic tells us that they should contain his targets. Including Howard and Maria.
CA:CW 2:15:52 – Steve’s letter says “I know I hurt you, Tony. I guess I thought by not telling you about your parents I was sparing you, but I can see now that I was really sparing myself. And I’m sorry…”
Conclusion is pretty clear, isn’t it?
Let’s get back to the pre-fight situation:
So Steve admitted that he knew who killed Tony’s parents (and his own old friend btw).
2:03:05 – Steve’s “Yes” hits Tony. Rogers is just looking at him there. No sorrow or regret in his eyes. Tony loses it.
He is the victim in this scene. He came to help and was betrayed again.
2:03:12 – he hits Rogers with back of his hand. Cap is thrown a couple of steps back.
2:03:15 - Tony puts his helmet on. Now he is going to attack.
Put yourself on his place and answer the question “wouldn’t you act the same way?”. If your answer is “nope, I wouldn’t” - try to pass a CAPTCHA, because you are most probably a robot.
Same moment – Bucky points his gun at Tony. He almost opens fire, but Tony shoots the gun with a repulsor, knocking the weapon out of Bucky's hands. Back to the beginning of this essay – why would you shoot at a victim? Tony, most probably, would just hit him couple of times using his hands, if he had not faced counter aggression.
Bucky is not running here. He wasn’t trying to run until Steve told him to at 2:04:02. He is attacking Tony. Look at his face (2:03:17). This is not the face of regret or sorrow.
[ Someone says something 15/18+ ]
Steve: The children are here.
Kate: I'm twenty-fucking-three.
Wanda: I'm russian.
Tony: Peter is from Queens.
Peter: I've got nothing to say abt that.
Harley: I'm much worse then all of you.
Wade: You're not counting me as a child anymore.
Clint: Why the hell we adopted them?
Kate: *blink blink*
Clint: Oh yeah, nevermind.
Bonus
Sam: I thought the hawk girl is like, twelve.
Bucky: How they all ended up here?
Natasha: Since when there's so many kids?
the Continued Awkwardness of being an official "Non-Avenger" Avenger by Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid
Spidey's gotten closer to the Avengers ever since they've returned, and everything seems to be going smooth- his identity is still safe, and he's friends with the Avengers- it couldn't get any better then that, right?
The Avengers on the other hand, have started to love having the Spider around- but their opinions on his identity are getting confusing, to say the least
As add on subjects (other subjects that we do for a term and not year round), one of them is textiles, or Soft Tech. Last night I got bored, so I decided to try a design for a doll. I ended up having measurements and everything, and I've decided that, if I do do this, I'm gonna make the Avengers. Although we haven't started designing yet, I'm seriously considering this. If anyone wants this idea, they're free to use it. Also, if anyone has any suggestions, feel free to tell me.
If anyone wants the measurements and they can't see them, then just comment or something, and I'll post them.
'Til the flip side dawns upon us,
Baibai
Do you think you could write about short sized! Reader working for Bruce banner as a lab assistant and Steve has a total crush on her.
Get A Life
You sat comfortably at your desk, analysing recent data on your computer screen. To an everyday person what would look like a jumbled mix of numbers and symbols to you made perfect sense.
“Bruceee.”
“Ah-huh.” He responded, eye deep into a telescope.
“The optimal temperature for nuclear reaction is…”
“100 million Kelvin… depends.”
“Figured.” You grumbled, nibbling on the end of a pen.
He rose from his stool, moving towards your desk and minimising the screen.
“This might sound hypocritical coming from me, but you need to get a social life.”
You re-opened the screen, eyes zoning in on him “This is social.” Gesturing between you both.
“No this is work.” He minimised the screen again.
“It’s a hobby.” You re-opened it,
“That you get paid to do.” He minimised the screen once more.
Before you could continue your game of cat and mouse, a knock at the door caused both your heads to rise.
“Sorry to interrupt I just came to drop off these documents for Y/N.”
Your eyes darted up to the large frame leaning against the door, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he offered a soft smile, holding a thick manilla folder in his hands like it was nothing.
“Oh yeah, okay, I was just about to go.” Bruce rose, walking past Steve.
Bruce raised his pointer finger at Steve, leaning in close and whispering while you were distracted by the screen in front of you “I…MIT won’t stop calling desperate for her to join so don’t… you know because I will go Hulk on your ass.”
Steve gave him a respectful nod “I won’t.”
“Good.” With a slap on the shoulder Bruce made his way out.
Steve stalked towards you, placing the folder on your desk with a thud.
You skim through the contents only to find blank pages.
“These are all blank?”
“Yes, they are.”
“What… why would you… what?”
Steve’s hand rubbed the back of his head “I just wanted an excuse to come see you.” He smiled at you sheepishly.
You sighed, rising from your desk making your way to the chemical cupboard with Steve close on your tail.
“I’m in the middle of making universe altering research breakthroughs Steven.” You thumbed through the walls of vials and chemicals.
Steven. Only you called him Steven. Not Rogers. Not Captain. Steven. And while he’d choke out anyone else who called him that besides his mother, he loved hearing his name fall from your lips.
“Which is why I think you deserved a break.”
“Why is everyone so obsessed with me talking breaks around here?”
“Because you work the hardest.” You momentarily paused, turning your head over your shoulder, catching the sincerity on his face.
“I’m not a superhero.” You shook your head.
“You are, in a way…” He moved forward coming behind you as you reached upwards, pushing your weight onto your tippy toes to reach the container on the top shelf, your fingertips barely brushing it. Even in heeled boots you couldn’t even reach.
With a swift motion, he placed his hand on your hip to pull you back slightly, raising his toned arm and grabbing the container effortlessly and handing it to you.
“I can’t even reach the top shelf.” Blush rose to your cheek at the feeling of his body so close to you.
“Yes, but even superhero need help sometimes and more importantly… lives.”
“I have a life!” You moved out of his reach going back towards your desk.
“When was the last time you had a beer with us? Or didn’t go into the lab for a day? Or went on a date?” He spat out.
You paused, turning on your heels, eyeing him.
“What do you want?” You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your full chest.
You were annoyed and he could tell. But he was absolutely obsessed with the way you looked in this moment, eyes piercing right into his soul through your glasses, your hair in a claw clip with strands sticking out and falling over your face. The tapping on your boot against the linoleum floor and the way your arms crossed pushed your chest together revealing a small sight of cleavage under your sweater.
He shouldn’t have found it as sexy as he did.
“I’d like you to take a break…”
You went to interject him and give him a 1000 reasons why you wouldn’t take a break until he finished…
“So, I can take you on a date.”
Your mouth fell agape but you were quick to recover with a sarcastic chuckle.
“Do you want me to warm up the CAT scan? Seems your brain has turned to mush from being in the ice so long.”
“Y/N please.”
“Steven, I don’t date.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not scientific and it’s not logical, it’s unexplainable nonsense that drives women to insanity.”
He crooked an eyebrow up at you. “I don’t think you could get more insane than you already are if that helps.”
You rubbed your temples turning on your heels to go back to your desk until you felt a strong hang grab your wrist and pull you back into a hard chest.
“Y/N, I see what you do day in day out for this team, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. But I also see how when you’re focused your eyebrows knot together, how I know which pencils are yours because of the bite marks on ends, how at the end of every day you let your hair fall out and you shake it with your hands, how the sweat drips down your chest and soaks your sports bras in the gym, how when you make a sly comment everyone laughs because you’re funny without realising and I can’t stop looking at you and I won’t but I desperately want to see what’s in your mind behind formulas and data because I know there’s more to you than that so if you would give me the pleasure I really REALLY want to be the social life you so desperately need. I see you, more than you know. And while it may not be mathematical, it makes perfectly calculated sense to me.”
You sucked in your lips, emotions swelling inside of you. His head bowed towards you, foreheads touching.
“Please.”
You nodded unable to form words as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you in as his lips lightly brushed yours, forcing you to relax in his grip and reciprocate the tender kiss.
“I’ll see you at 7pm - don’t be late.” He gave you final kiss on your forehead, walking out with a beaming smile.
Leaving you in shock as you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding in and warmth spread throughout your body.
Reader adopts a cat to help her boyfriend Captain America, Steve rogers deal with the trauma and nightmares
Soxs
You were woken up to thrashing beside you in bed. Third night in a row. Sweat formed on Steve’s forehead with his face contorted in terror. You rolled over, placing a light hand on his shoulder, he instantly moved into you.
“Hey hey, honey… it’s just a dream.” You patted his head softly as his eyes slowly blinked open.
He let out a large sigh, sitting up in bed and rubbing his face.
“Same one?”
“Same one.” He said in a defeated tone.
You rubbed his back soothingly before getting up to get a glass of water from the sink. Handing it to him in bed.
“Thanks honey.” You sat next to him as he took a large gulp, turning back to cuddle into your comforting frame.
As he gently lulled off to sleep in your arms, large arms wrapped around you. You mind wandered to all the things you could do to help your poor guy.
3 WEEKS LATER
You placed the gold box in front of Steve on the couch. Holes punctured in the top and a shiny red bow in the middle.
“What’s this?” He looked up at you curiously.
“Open it.” You smiled, taking a spot next to him.
Steve inched forward, slowly taking off the lid and peering inside the box.
“Oh my goodness.” Steve’s eyes widen in joy at the little ball of fluff, sitting pretty.
The calico kitten let out a small meow, standing on its hind legs and pawing at the walls, desperate to be picked up.
Steve took the small kitten in his large hands, encompassing it carefully as he brought it to his chest. The kitten immediately rubbed his ear against Steve’s jaw, purring at the contact.
“Y/N… you… you didn’t… omg I love him.”
“Her. And you’re welcome. I looked it up and the purr of a cat can help relaxation and healing. So, I thought maybe a couple of kitten kisses will help you sleep through the night.” You beamed at him, your hand going to scratch the little one’s head.
“Her. She’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I can’t believe you’d do that for me.” Tears started to form in the captain’s eyes as his heart burst at the ball of fluff.
“Think of her as our first baby.” You winked.
“Gotta name her… what do you think she looks like… Esmerelda, Fluffy, Ariel?”
“How about Soxs.” You grabbed the kittens’ paw, admiring the pattern of fur that gave her four perfect little white blocks.
“Soxs. Perfect.” He turned to you, kissing you on the mouth softly.
The two became inseparable with Soxs taking up permanent position sleeping between your heads at night.
The nightmares stopped but Steve got even less sleep after being woken up at 4am to Soxs wanting breakfast.
She'd follow him everywhere, doing little walks between his legs.
The whole of Avengers loved her, with Stark acting like a villain whenever she'd sit in his lap.
Her favourite place to nap was the Avengers meeting table.
Steve would feed her little slices of ham at dinner, dangling it under the table for her to catch.
A/N: Short and sweet. 😘☘️
Introducing a new fan to MARVEL pt. 2
There are two major break ups in the Marvel universe.
First we have the great Civil War breakup between Steve and Tony.
Second is the Cuba Beach breakup between Charles and Erik.
Neither are pleasant, both stem from different points of view, and both are commonly ignored.
Introducing a new MCU fan to fanfic world
*smiles* Okay, So first we are going to start off with some wholesome spider-son and irondad. After that you can start on that platonic Stucky and ease into the romantic variation. After you’ve read a few Stucky fics, I suggest Stony. Then we have that one straight ship that can be shipped with literally anyone else, Clintasha. What? Oh yeah, just ignore Clint’s family. It rarely exists. So! Ready to start?
I just re watched Avengers 1 and remember how that guy in the warehouse let Bruce borrow a motorcycle no questions asked and had spare clothes on hand? Who else do we know rides a motorcycle and would be old at that time while still being young enough to ride one?
FUTZING STEVEN GRANT ROGERS!!!!
My theory is that motor guy is actually old man Steve. What say you?
Based off of a dream I had.
Also, Bucky wouldn’t be found until around the time Steve was originally, while Steve was found not too long after he crashed the plane cuz I refuse to believe that hydra didn’t put tracking devices on that plane.
Miss Piggy-Piggy Carter
Kermit the Frog-Steve Frogers
Fozzie Bear-Bucky Bear
Bonus:
Gonzo-Helmut Gonzemo
I cant be the only one who believes this is actually Chris Evans. Right?
no bc you don’t understand how obsessed I am with this fic, I love you forever for writing this💓
The text post about “ your fav is fucking his fist rn thinking of you” please lord let it be for Steve ( I’m. Late I know)
a/n: heheh it is :) 1.5k words of male masturbation ayyye. also, if you have not already, go check out @heavenbarnes’ ficlet, which haunts me everyday. please stop reading if you are not 18+
brooklyn after dark masterlist
slow hands*
Steve jerks off— a lot.
Even before the serum, when he was just any other violently hormonal, grass-fed, free-range human boy, instinct couldn’t be denied. Even after a long period of reflection during his catechism days, he wasn’t able to make heads or tales out of why any creator might give two shits about whether or not Steve fucks his hand.
Now as a whopping 200-pound slab of grade-A, laboratory-engineered, serum-enhanced super-soldier, if he doesn’t pump one out every twenty-four hours, it’s hard to focus on much else. All of that unbridled testosterone crawls right up behind his eyes and his brain fizzles at the edges, agitated like an animal in a cage.
(So, although it’s mostly pleasure, it’s also necessity.)
He knows that it’s best before bed because early mornings or while showering requires working within the constraints of a ticking clock; if he’s got a packed schedule and needs a quick rub, fine, but not his favorite.
He knows that he likes certain activities, and if he’s looking at porn, specific categories and maybe a few performers will fit a niche—but sometimes he’ll spiral into a hundred other videos and he’s stayed up one (or five) too many nights doing that.
More than anything, Steve knows nothing beats his imagination, and he knows the best lies you can tell are ones with a bit of truth attached to them.
So, he plays a little game.
He thinks about you.
Cheeky you, who’s always teasing him about taking life too seriously. So prim and proper, Steve, you purr, always Mr. Punctual. Aren’t you tired of being nice? Loosen up—go dancing, meet a girl, have a one-night stand; fuck with the lights on for once.
Hm. Sure he’d like to, but all he’s got is about forty-five minutes before bed because he’s frankly too busy (see: stubborn, see: not interested in just any girl) for anything else.
For forty-five minutes, Steve takes a moment of truth and runs warp speed into the burning sunset with it.
The time you put your hand in his hair to fix a flyaway before a press conference—what if you gripped it hard, instead? Your candy pink lip gloss on Friday evening—what if it smudged off on his jaw, his collar, his eager cock? How you looked lifting out of the pool with rivulets of water dribbling into the hollow of your throat—what if he pressed his cheek to it, drank from it?
(The expression that might cross your face when you realize Steve would very much like to fuck you with the lights on.)
When you kissed him on that mission in Thailand, sliding into his lap to hide the both of you in a corner nook of a restaurant. The taste of sweetened coffee passed from your mouth to his, and he couldn’t help but dart his tongue out. You playfully scolded him about taking advantage of a dangerous situation (it wasn’t that dangerous), and despite all your usual attitude, it was surprisingly cute how you couldn’t make eye contact afterwards, making him want to kiss you again just to figure you out.
Last night—when you smiled, the glimmer in your eyes like a sliver of moonlit coin and if he blinked at the wrong time, he might have missed it. Your breathy laugh, your little giggle, how you raggedly pant while you spar, he thinks about those sounds mingled with his name. Your weight, a perfect amount of pressure crawling on top of him, mapping out the expanse of his chest.
He’d be happy just to watch, finally able to see you in glimpses not bordering voyeuristic like when you zip up in the hangar or concerned when you peel off Kevlar layers smudged with gunpowder. No, you’d be relaxed and tangible, full and felt—breasts, waist, belly, the sides of your hips as you straddle him, pulling his hands toward your body and letting him touch you.
Steve sighs into the darkness of his room, sweats shucked off, lube-slick hand feeling for his already aching cock. What’s he going to think about tonight? The small of your back when you lean over the pool table? The long, graceful shape of your fingers exploring his torso? Your face dazed, tipsy-tinged after a few drinks and sweet on his shoulder?
(He would like more of that. He could make you look like that if you ever asked.)
His hips move in careful circles, testing his grip, nudging at the tunnel of his fist like how your pussy would resist the first thrust until he wedges his way past it, slipping the head of his cock into your warmth. You’d be so, so warm. So soft and tight and perfectly fitted around him.
“Ah, fuck,” Steve mutters, eyes squeezed shut.
He fucks into his fist, the sound of slick gushing out like wet slaps, like the hot clutch of noise your tight hole would make as he’d stretch it out—as he’d stretch you out.
He’s panting harder. You‘d look breathtaking on all fours, head turned around to see him rutting inside, jaw slack in disbelief that your body could keep taking him like this, like you could break any moment.
The pretty, pretty whimpers at the harsh punctuation of every thrust. They’d tear loose from your throat and you wouldn’t be able to bite them down anymore. You could unravel because of him—shattering because he’ll have gotten past your defenses, gotten so deep you could do nothing but arch back for more, needing him further, needing him to know you how nobody else knows you.
Steve’s mind races through each position— every arrangement of your arms and legs in ways you’d give into because he would make the burn delicious, blurring discomfort into pleasure, and how you wouldn’t care if it might hurt because desire would be the drive— him behind the wheel taking you closer to that cliff’s edge.
He’s peeling off into the horizon now, moaning, bucking carelessly, blinded by the bright sun, by the white threatening to explode behind his eyes.
“Uhhhnn—” he looks down at his throbbing cock, swollen with friction and fiction, his other hand rolling the tender skin of his sac between his fingers. He squeezes a hair trigger tighter, in pulses, mimicking how you’d feel close to coming, begging for his release to fill you. Your hands gripping his hair for purchase, hard and frenzied, the scrape of your nails on his scalp. And finally, the abandoned, purely physical response of your body during orgasm, the undeniable wrecked wail of his name.
He’d be rough and gentle all at once, he’d make you taste yourself, clean up the mess you’ve made on him, and then he’d kiss it out of your mouth when he fucks you again. You’d be sore already, and sore the next day. He’d want to leave you aching, shuddering, babbling and delirious for more, for only him.
You’d cry, Steve, oh—my god—oh my god—feels so good, Steve. Fuck me harder, please. However you want—whatever you want, I promise.
You’d suck on his fingers, bite down when it became too much, too good. You’d shake, and shake, and shake and Steve— he falls.
Spun out, headfirst, off the steepest bluff of his inventions and crashes into open waves beneath. Your moaning mouth, your soaked cunt, your entire being an unprimed canvas waiting for his splatter.
And it’d be perfect.
He comes in ropes, gasping into the reverberating echo of his own breath, hips still moving, back still arched, wet slick dripping down into his fist where he keeps going, using it as another coat of lube. Maybe you’d squirt. Maybe you’d put your face in your hands, embarrassed, or maybe you’d lose all control and he’ll have to hold you up.
The second wave comes fast and better than the first.
The third, easy, only tinged with a prickle of rawness that makes his toes curl.
Steve’s chest is sweat-slick and heaving, heat rising off his body as he evens out, throat murmuring the syllables of your name in yearning. He nudges hair off his forehead with the back of his clean hand, and then he checks his clock.
Back to reality, forty-five minutes on the dot tells him he’s still punctual, as you say.
He cleans up, stretching his back as he ambles to the restroom before returning to bed, satisfied. And when Steve tucks himself in for another peaceful night’s sleep, he wonders what you do in the privacy of darkness and if your ritual is anything like his own.
Do you shuck off your lounge clothes? Do you fuck yourself beneath layers of covers with your fingers? A toy? Grab your tits and put those same fingers in your mouth? Do you think about someone—do you think about him? His dick is still half-hard, half-raring for another session because the fourth and fifth time, when it hurts even worse, feels like coming up for breath after a drowning-- feels beyond good.
He’ll think about you some more tomorrow.
(He’ll think about making you come four or five times.)
and the answer is yes im annoying and no i will never shut up. now watch these tiktoks.
matt murdock
remus and tonks...
captain america bnw 2
endgame 2 3
cherik and florida
hugh jackman let me bite u 2 3 4
no way home 😥😥
splatty
daenerys targaryen is... the prince who was promised (if u watch got pls watch this edit)
more cherik I CANT I NEED UGH STOP 2
pls do me all day captain
oo that sounded really bratty! 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
lol stucky was never casual hahahah except its not funny
andrew garfield. thats all.
sexy boy rj lupin
like one hour long wanda edits 2 3
guess what else wasnt casual...
i love u bobby 2
my fav lesbian witch (and her show) 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
thunderbolts 2
marauders
ok so in conclusion i love me some edits!
Emily Margaret Paxton, age twenty-seven, pushes her toddler on the swings. Christine laughs and smiles with chubby cheeks, ruddy from the excitement.
The Winter Soldier watches from less than ten feet away.
Steve has lived through a world-ender before. At least, it was the end of the world for him. Everyone he knows and loves, gone in an instant. The ones who aren’t dead, warped by time and age.
It was not so simple as an instant this time.
Bucky wakes up and there’s a hand in his- in the open cavity of his chest. He screams, even though he knows better, he knows better. There’s a flash of silver as the hand pulls back. A scalpel. They were- they were cutting him up inside again and how could he have ever thought this was over, it’s never over-
Cameron Klein, Sharon Carter, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff- at the epicenter of all of them, the conspiracy of Steve's disappearance and their collective rising suspicion.
steve not taking care of himself in ways that are basically self harm but no one knows because of his healing factor
he'll ignore wounds on purpose and that would get most people infected, but he heals faster than the baseline human and is immune to disease so no one bats an eye when he skips medical again
he drinks enough high proof liquor to give the baseline human alcohol poisoning ten times over but no one thinks he has a drinking problem because they think he can't get drunk, but it's not that he can't get drunk, his body just processes alcohol more efficiently
he's in the gym too much but everyone brushes it off because of course cap is a gym rat, he's an avenger so of course he has to train, he has to keep up with the job somehow, no he's not over-exerting himself, he'll be fine, he's a supersoldier.
*whispers* imagine steve waking up the morning after that knife fight with a hand-shaped bruise around his neck.
“There have been reports of atypical behavior. Distraction, tiredness, irritability. Your coworkers are concerned that you’re struggling. One or two, I could brush off, but there is a clear pattern here.” Pierce takes off his glasses, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He looks sorry to say it, and sorrier about whatever he’s gonna say next.
Steve tenses.
“Captain Rogers,” Pierce says sympathetically. “I know your transition has been difficult.”
“I like to think I’m handling it to the best of my ability,” Steve says.
Pierce leans forwards. “That is precisely my concern, Captain. You’re making your best effort and it’s not enough. You need help.”
