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jamneuromain · 8 months

Note

Hey honey! I'm loving your bingo challenge<3

So I want to send in a request for Steve Rogers for the prompt 'ugly duckling'

So basically Steve meeting readers family and friends, and the running joke is how reader bagged an Greek god looking man like him despite being not so pretty. He soon understands why reader was first hesitant and a bit surprised when he asked them out. But Steve takes a stand for them in front of everyone and call them out on their behaviour and all the fluff! Please feel free to change anything you like or ignore the request if it's not worth it! Thank you so much! I love your fics💙

Hi hon <3

I feel so much about the "ugly duckling" so I added a little bit of "horrible family actions" that I've seen. I hope you'll enjoy this!

Make an Impression

Steve Rogers x You

Warning: Ugly Duckling, shaming from all aspects, bad language word(?)

Summary: Steve was nervous about meeting your family - your larger family, that is.

A/N: My eighth entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.

"What if they don't like me?" Steve whispered in horror as he looked at himself in the mirror.

"They will love you." You stood on the tip of your toes and kissed his cheek, "Seriously, my mom thought I'd be single for life. So she is already way beyond happy that I'd be taking someone home for this traditional festival."

Steve mumbled a "yeah", before turning to you, "I really want to make a good impression." He almost knotted his brows into a bun, "Any tips on how to be the best boyfriend?"

"You are the best boyfriend there is." You help flipping his collar in place. He was so nervous about meeting your family that he tried on five different ties for over a dozen times, leaving his collar a mess, "You'd be helping out... I think. And you definitely do not need a tie to suffocate yourself when you're helping out. They will love you." You emphasized the idea that your family would welcome him one more time, shrugging, "Just try not to answer any questions when my aunties and my grandma ask you about 'when are we having kids'."

"Kids?" Unfiltered panic filled his eyes.

"Um-hmm." You fiddled with the hem of his shirt, tucking it in place, "I know, we aren't even planning anything yet. Still, they love to do that. They'd be scheming when we're having our fifth kid with or without our help."

Steve swears he is sweating like a fountain.

"Smile. Tell them we're enjoying our solidarity. And you will be fine." You threw him a sympathetic look, "Tell them about your military stories. That would distract them enough."

You hoped your boyfriend would survive under your ruthless (or so you believe) aunties.

"C'mon. Mom said we should be there by 11 to help her cook lunch." You kissed his cheek again, "You'll do fine."

"Not quite sure about that." Steve muttered. If confidence could be measured from 1 to 10, he'd be negative a hundred by now.

You thought your aunties - your father's sisters - would be hogging Steve until he was going to have a panic attack, asking about your relationship or about his family three generations ago. But within an hour, you heard that he was able to make all of your aunties laugh with joy by telling some interesting stories in the barracks, while your mother kept you in the kitchen to help her around.

Help with cleaning. Not cooking.

After an hour and a half, your grandmother pulled an ancient photo book out of nowhere and started to show him your baby photos.

With pots of traditional dishes simmering over the stove, you were finally able to get a break from your mother's accusations of "not practicing homemaking" and escape to your boyfriend.

At which point, the photo album was only about one-quarter through, and your aunties had just started the chapter where you were 4 or 5.

"...now this." Your grandma chuckled and shook her head, "This was precious. She has always been the not-so-good-looking one among my grandkids. Hasn't changed about that. See her skin? And the hair? Her cousins tried almost everything to help her look better."

Yes. By "help" she meant that your cousins, who were not that older than you, shoved you around like a doll, pinning all their least-favorite hair bands and hair pins onto your head, and giving you ridiculous "make-overs".

The kind of "make-over" some 6-year-olds could achieve.

While your male cousins ignored you.

Some of them still did.

You didn't mind.

Your family isn't exactly the tightest bun in the world. You tried avoiding them until important family-gathering activities such as this one. Because they would criticize everything from your clothing to your work. And probably also tell your boyfriend that you are not that good.

"And what are you wearing?" One of your aunties eyed you disapprovingly, gasping as if she had just seen you. Even though you have been helping cleaning and cooking for at least sixty minutes, "Sweetie, your ass is going to rip your jeans. Why not sportspants? They are definitely more comfy. Could help cover your thick thighs too. Honestly, how you are able to date... him-" She gestured at Steve, "is baffling."

"That hair..." Another auntie tutted as loud as she could, "So messy, my dear. Have you tried conditioner? My boy brought back a bottle of L'OREAL conditioner from Paris and it has been working wonders. "

Third auntie chirped up helpfully, "Must have been that awful job, cutie pie. I told you that you should be working closer to home, not driving three hours to see your family. That incompetent husband of mine recently opened up a factory and we'd be happy to arrange a desk job for you. Smaller pay, but closer to home. What could a ton of money do anyway if you can't see your family every week-"

That's enough bullshit for you for a day. You'd rather drown yourself with mud than listen to them criticize from head to toe.

"I think that's my phone." You forced a smile, getting up as fast as you could, "I'm gonna go check."

"See, I told you a busy job can do you no good..." One of your aunties yelled behind your back, before gossiping in a low voice with others.

What you didn't see (or hear, for that matter) is that Steve apologized swiftly, leaving the couch and following you.

Eight months ago

Steve accompanied Bucky to his graduation ceremony that day. Being around the same age, they chose a path in the military at the start, though Bucky had a severe injury to his left arm and had to leave the sergeant program after only a few months. After some rehabilitation and trying a handful of jobs, Bucky decided to head back to university and study criminal law in order to become a police officer, or a district attorney if he's not fit for police work anymore.

Steve, on the other hand, was luckier. He stayed in the sergeant program and got assigned to the States right before Bucky's graduation. After three tours and a surgery to collect bomb shells from his leg, the Army decided he could be a drill sergeant on the New Jersey Base, responsible for training new recruits before shipping them overseas.

Anyhow, Steve pulled Bucky into a big hug when the ceremony was over. He whistled and nearly clapped his hand numb as Bucky beamed at him in a black graduate gown.

"I guess I'm the smarter one of us now." Bucky smiled coyly, punching Steve in the chest, "And the luckier one too." As he fished a cute girl in gown by her wrist and introduced her, "This is my girlfriend Wendy. Wendy Stone. Wendy, Steve."

She reached out shyly to shake his hand, "Hi Steve. I've heard a lot about you."

And as if Bucky was the magnet, attaching people like coins in a line, you slipped through the crowd patting Wendy on her shoulder, "Your phone. You almost forgot - Hi Bucky, I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

Bucky's palm flew to his forehead, gasping out in shock, "Damn. I haven't introduced you two yet. Steve, this is Y/N, Wendy's cousin. Y/N, this is my best pal Steve."

Five months ago

You had hung out with Steve a couple of times, but only in the presence of Bucky and Wendy. Wendy and you shared the same apartment, so it was nearly inevitable for Steve to bump into you when looking for Bucky, or Bucky asking both of you to join Game Night for you four to know each other well.

Steve grew fonder of you, nonetheless. He loves the laughter whenever you hear a silly joke; he loves the way you make a face to him whenever Bucky and Wendy getting all gooey and clingy, making both of you feel like the third and fourth wheel; he loves your optimistic and can-do attitude, whether it was Wendy having a bad day at work, or when the pipe burst in your apartment.

Before he opened his mouth that day, sharing a pot of coffee with Bucky during the quiet morning of a Sunday. Bucky cut him off, saying Steve's line, "You should ask her out."

"You think I should?" He gulped nervously, counting the larger bubbles on his coffee.

"Dude, why do you think I've asked you on these game nights stuff?" Bucky snorted into his mug, "You practically glued your eyes to her the day you met. It's hard not to notice."

"Thanks...?"

"Don't thank me yet, punk. I've asked Wendy about her. She's one tough-" Bucky paused before continuing, mulling over the semantics, "Is it degrading to say son-of-a-bitch? Because Wendy said the exact same words. Anyway, according to Wendy, she doesn't really date a lot. And her work is crazy as hell. Plus, they came from the same family, cousins from their mother's side. They are a hard-to-please bunch of people, and Wendy heard that her father's side was even worse."

Steve didn't really take the last line into consideration back then. Still, asking you out was one hell of a mission, worse than the tour he had in the middle of some desert. It took some persuasion and some more coaxing ("good-measured coaxing", Bucky insisted) to get you on the first three dates. But from that point forth, everything has run smoothly, until now.

"You alright?" Steve closed the door behind him. Your tiny room seems smaller with his broad shoulders larger than the door frame.

"Yeah." That's a lie. "Another few hours and we'll be left alone." You swept away the invisible dust on your jeans, murmuring.

That's why you don't like your relatives. The smell of grease and tobacco rose from the backyard where the men were drinking and smoking, more revolting than the way you remembered.

Steve pursed his lips tightly into a line, "Are they always like this?"

You huffed out an unamused laugh, "At least we were related. You should have seen how they treated my mom."

"That's why she's in the kitchen?"

An unimpressed glare threw in his direction, "She enjoyed that, believe it or not. Cooking and cleaning and homemaking." Raising your chin towards the kitchen, "Blamed me about 'not doing my part' just now."

"Why don't you-"

"Stand up against them?" You knew what he meant. You did. You tried. But they would always accuse your mother of not "teaching you properly".

"They are bullies, Steve." You shrugged, pretending that it didn't bother you at all, "They'd do anything to make sure we get all those nasty comments. And the moment any one of us stand up against them, they'd ask my parents to force me to apologize."

Steve crossed his arms, furrowing his brows again.

"Look, my mom is ... old-school. So are all of them. She nags a lot but she'd be sad if I'm not here to support her during this family reunion. But reunion means all of them, so..." You held his wrist, resting your head on his shoulder, "family comes first."

He took you into his arms, landing a kiss on your forehead.

You craned your neck to smile sweetly at him, as if nothing had happened, "Let's get back to the living room before they mock me for being a baby about it."

Surprisingly, for one full hour, they weren't able to make a comment about you - plenty of comments about Steve since your three cousins had arrived. More comments about your cousins. Gossips about their neighbors. Judgements thrown around on their men and your mother's cooking.

"... your daughter better have clarity on herself." Your grandmother pointed at your mother, drunk on her third cup of wine, her words slurring, "Steven....s Steve, here, is way out of her league. And she needs to maaaarry him before some s... ska... skank butts in."

Your mother eyed you, mouthing silently, asking you to eat rather than reply, before coming up with a polite smile, "Of course. But young people have their own opinions on marriage, and I suppose it's only fair that they figure it out themselves."

One of your aunts waved her fork too hard, sending a piece of chicken into the air, "Oops. Ma's right. And you need to have a kid soon, sweetie. Marry him, and have a kid. Your body is a ticking clock. Don't turn deaf towards it."

"I'm surprised you were able to get a boyfriend, let alone... this." Another aunt gestured at Steve, "You've never been the pretty one, cutie pie, and you sure ain't now."

You put your hand on Steve's thigh to calm him. You could feel his muscles tensing and his jaw clenching, not so subtly. You shook your head lightly.

Don't give them what they want. You hoped you were able to convey the message.

"Oh my oh my," the last aunt chuckled, "we are not going to witness some cheesy scheme of renting a boyfriend here, are we? I heard from my daughter Jean that it's quite popular these days. You know, it's not that embarrassing not to have a boyfriend, I mean, we all thought that way-"

Jean, being one of your cousins sitting by the table, chose to munch her food in silence rather than responding to your aunt.

"That's enough." Steve placed his napkin on the table, folded it back into a triangle before he spoke, "All of you." His rigid tone from the military days seeped into his voice, having the conversations on the table stop for the moment. Taking your hand beneath the table, he watched every person on the table with a serious expression, "Our relationship is none of your business, and so is her appearance. I see a beautiful, strong, independent woman, and I pity you for none of you were able to see her the way I do. Because you were so focused on yourselves, comparing everything about you to make you feel less pathetic. "

A brief pause.

"You didn't say anything about your daughter owning a clothing store, inherited from you, that barely gets by." He looked at the aunt who called you "fat".

"No one said anything about your son stuffing potato chips in his mouth and being unemployed, still taking expensive trips with your pension, because he's the son in the family." He points at the aunt who called you "cheap".

"And finally, you know damn well that husband of yours is having his third secretary-mistress. Since that's all the rest of you could hint about this afternoon." He directed at the aunt who thought you weren't "homemaker" enough.

"I hope you'll have the day you deserve." He spat out, standing from the table, asking for your hand.

For the first time today, your eyes sparkled with light. Gladly taking his hand, your rose from the table. Not minding if you have shoved your chair backwards too hard or the sudden movement is not "lady" enough.

"Mom, I'll come visit next week. Promise." A big smile raised the corner of your lips, waving your mother goodbye while the rest of the table watched in silence.

You still had trouble believing this when you got in your car. Steve immediately pulled you into a hug, nudging your neck with his cheek.

"Not so scared about 'impressing' my family now, huh?" You joked, tugging the end of his blonde hair lightly.

"They're going to hate me and you after I dumped every scandal on them." He mumbled apologetically, "Sorry, I hate bullies."

"No." You signed, "I should've be braver and just ... cut them off."

"You did the best you could." He kissed your shoulder gently, looking into your eyes, "You are everything I've dreamed of, and I meant everything I said at the dining table. You are incredible."

"Hold your proposal, Rogers." You teased him, seeing his ears turn into beet-red as you mentioned "proposal", poking his chest with your index finger, "You aren't on your knees yet and I'm not having five babies without five carats."

Steve's face flushed with a shade of pink, looking like a total turnip if it wasn't for his blonde hair. "Five babies???" He gulped, and then, "Does that mean we're having ten babies if I buy a ten-carat now?"

It was your turn to be stunned speechless. Only when he was grinning madly did you realize he was messing with you too. Laughing with tears, you fell into his embrace, "Steven Grant Rogers, you are a horrible person."

A few laughs bubbled from his chest as you leaned back in your seat and buckled your seat belt, "You'll get used to it." He started the engine and changed the subject, "I didn't have much food in your house. Mind if we stop by at the new Burger joint and order something?"

"I almost forgot how awful my mom's cooking is." You set your phone on navigation mode and put it on Bluetooth speaker, chuckling, "I'm starving. Let's go."

Find my The Slumber Party Present Bingo Challenge here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #jnmanswers #inbox <3 #writing challenge #the slumber party writing challenge

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jamneuromain · 7 months

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It's a full moon's night. Would you rather be a witch dancing with her coven in the moonlight only to be snatched by dark creature by the name of Steve, or be an unwilling sacrifice for ruthless demon overlord who goes by the name Ar?

Hmmm... this has been troubling me for a whole day >:(

But I've finally comes to terms with-

(Warning: Cult, Murder, demon!Ari, mention of creampie and if you squint basement demon wife)

Life does flash before your eyes when the silver dagger cuts into your artery, and your boyfriend's sickening grin lingers in your head since it's the last thing you see before losing consciousness.

It's a full moon tonight, a perfect chance to summon the demon he worships. Not that you know any of it - if you did, you would've run out of the door faster than the speed of light.

"Lord, I brought you the purest of souls, and the freshest of blood, as an offering." Your cult-obsessed boyfriend murmurs, watching with fire in his eyes, as your blood flows through the circle carved onto the ground and forms a ring.

Ari steps out of the portal in mid-air. Crooked horns, sooted claws, goat hooves.

"What do you want, human?" He huffs, not exactly pleased with humans casually dumping souls and blood and bodies as "offerings". As if that's what he wanted if he had a choice.

He's a demon, he eats cooked meat and fresh fruit for Hell's sake.

"To be eternal, my Lor-"

Ari snaps his neck in half.

There. The human soul is eternal. Suffering in Hell.

As for this less-than-decent offering-

His eyes land on you.

You wake up in satin sheets and feathered pillows, crimson veils cover the outside of the large king-sized bed so that you can only see the insides of this space. The air is dry and hot. Only seconds have passed before you begin (or realize) that you are sweating. Clear of clothing, stripped naked, with a long-haired man looking at you with his burning eyes sitting in front of you.

"Who are you? What have you done to me?" You claw for the sheets, desperately trying to cover your body.

He likes you. He decides to keep you.

He feeds you fruits and meat by hand (you protested about the lack of utensils, but your disagreements quickly die down when he feasts on your body). The sex is amazing, he'd push his huge demon cock into your tiny holes and fill each and every one of them to the brim (if not leaking). And he would carry you to bed. Clothing is never an option. You can choose between his gown or the thin piece of veil he prepares for you - neither is satisfying enough but that's what you make do with when he's not around.

He rips them off you when he's around.

It's almost impossible to choose between stevie and ariii <333 (my heart is certainly big enough for them both and I want them to have their ways with me with no mercy pls

Thank you for this ask :3

#jnmanswers #jnmwrites #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #inbox <3 #inbox open

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jamneuromain · 7 months

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Or maybe it's the fact they give good dick that turns them into bastards? 🤔 You know, they get full of themselves, they know you crave it, they know they can fuck you stupid.

Hmm... now that's a plausible theory...

(and ofc their dicks are def above average so...

and morals and stuff don't mean shit to them, they have all the power in the world and do as they please-

(like Ari bending you over his desk knowing no one would disturb (and you have nowhere else to run to) and telling you either be good "or else"

heheheh I'm depending on that "else" part

#jnmanswers #andy barber x you #ari levinson x reader #inbox <3 #inbox open

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jamneuromain · 28 days

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List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)♡

Thank you Eva<3

five things that makes me happy:

#jnmanswers #inbox <3 #inbox open

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jamneuromain · 5 months

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1, 4 and 27 🥰

Hi Jaqui<3

favorite fic you wrote this year

Ohhh, definitely Wishful Thinking. and the story of Andy&reader. It has accompanied me throughout the year, experiencing all the highs & lows of my master's study, my trips in March, July, and June, and a few close calls ((nearly lost my laptop in an airport :<)) It marks the start of me writing long(er?) fanfics on tumblr and I'm really happy that as this year is coming to an end, so is this fic =)

4. total number of words you wrote this year

I did a counting with AO3 a few days ago and (I really need to upload a couple of my new fics/chapters there :l ) thanks to the statistics, it's roughly around 260,000, give or take.

27. favorite fanfic author (s) of the year

👆I'm going to change this question into authors (because there are so many brilliant people out there QAQ)

first of all, my favorite people of the year my life: @rogerswifesblog Not only does she come up with amazing stories but also she's an amazing person TuT we cooperated on many wips (...ouch, wips), and we talk about everything and everything (( also, thank you for putting up with my throwing ideas around i know my head can be jumpy ... for most of the times))

And now for some amazing authors I've discovered on this hellsite >:)

@oh-my-damn

@gummydummy19

@biteofcherry

@stargazingfangirl18

@nicoline1998enilocin

Last but not least, the author(s) I've been following ever since I found AO3:

@anika-ann

@ronearoundblindly

and my friend Eclipness

Thank you all for writing and spreading love to the fandoms. I wish you all a very happy new year <3

#jnmanswers #inbox <3 #inbox open #annual report

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jamneuromain · 4 hours

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How are Wild Child Ari and his reader doing? 🥰

I hope he's fiercely protecting her from her dad 😤

Hi Jaqui<3

AHHHH i'm so happy that you still remember WC!Ari and reader >:3 Chapter 6 (I think it's 6 I'm not sure... ) is nearly done and I'm doing some adjustments regarding the conversation between reader, her dad, and Ari _( :3_/ )\_ [but before that rly quick, CT!Curtis part 2 is going to come out sooner because I've finished the major editing hehe]

Here's a little sneak peek:

Ari raised his hand to pause the conversation. That hand curled into a fist in front of his nose. He furrowed his brows. And sneezes. Loudly. Your father's face turned into a spectacular turquiose shade. "Sorry." Ari sounded unapologetic, "I think I'm allergic to your bullshit."

#jnmanswers #wild child #ari levinson x reader #inbox open #inbox <3

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jamneuromain · 5 months

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If we fast forward a bit in the wild child storyline (assuming they end up together) what is Ari getting his queen for the holidays?

Hi nonnie😌❤️

oooooohhhhhhh I like the sound of that😋😋😋 I've thought about their honeymoon (which is more like honeyweek lol), where they spend the week in a private, royal-owned spring resort since their wedding is well into November. (They are going to spend more time on the king-sized bed than in the hot spring but you didn't hear that from me👀

Due to the specialty of their identities, I don't think they will spend their holidays abroad. Before most of the important holidays like New Year, they would spend a few days visiting the cities of Ballenia, and making sure the Ballenians are living a happy (or at least, not struggling to make ends meet) life. Ari would indulge her to visit museums or she would accompany him to a sports match after the formal itenirary.

Though every once in a while, Ari would plan a special non-holiday trip, because the holidays are often a busy time for them. Maybe a cabin in the woods, or a ski trip, or simply a few days in the (used to be) Prince's palace, for both of them to forget about the heavy workload for a while.

I hope this answers your question :3

#jnmanswers #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #wild child #inbox <3 #inbox open

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jamneuromain · 8 months

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Oh hello my dear friend 🥰🥰

Ok, so... For the bingo... Can I have the request?

About the party, it's doesn't matter if it's big no not, fancy or you know, just for friends and family.

But yeah I wish for best friend reader and pre-serum Steve Rogers lol (40s isnot nessasary)

So you live in the same block or just neighbors, and he doesn't like the whole loud pary, so he said he want to leave. Of course you want to go home since you feel bored too.

But when you walk several meters from the party, you suddenly aware that you forget your jacket!! So you just tell Steve that you have to back to the party and that he can go home first.

But, when you rush into the party, take your jacket and said goodbye again to your friends. You found that Steve walk back to the front doors of the party place and waiting for you.

Have a nice day 😊😊💕😊

Hi nana😌❤️❤️ I absolutely love this idea. I might have changed it a bit into Reader looking for Steve to leave, but I think this works with the plot hehehe

Hope you'll enjoy it😘

Spiked Punch

Steve Rogers x You

Warning: Party, cursing

Summary: After two punch and being bored to death at a college party, you decide to find Steve and head home.

A/N: My seventh entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty. The idiot-part came from an inspiration from @rogerswifesblog/@rogerswifesblog-updates <3

You've never been a party gal.

You hate it when it's hot and smothering in a small space.

You absolutely loathe it when there are loud music and drunken ... people involved. Seeing the drunken frat boys and sorority girls tangled up all together, kissing but looking as if they are about to suck each other's face off... just, eww.

College parties are definitely not for you.

Bucky, on the other hand, is a different human being. Bucky is enjoying the best time of his life, joining the fraternity with a bunch of stupid Greek letters on a T-shirt, partying all night and drinking till he can't tell which room is his own bedroom. That's his jam.

The last time you saw him at this party, roughly fifteen minutes ago, he was holding two sorority girls on his laps, making out with both of them, and to you, this looks like the start of a threesome. So you slipped from one room to another, trying to find Steve.

You came here with Steve. Being (almost) lifelong friend of both Steve and Bucky, you met them when you were four years old.

You don't remember any of that, but your mother told you one of the kids in this neighborhood shoved you to the curb into the traffic. And if it weren't Steve and Bucky who bravely - they are also four, by the way, ran in front of a freight car while the other pulled you to the sidewalk. You would not be still alive at this moment.

Kitchen - living room - hallway - accidentally walking into the library but the frat boys in there are burning book pages to smoke pot - one turn, then another, and you are back where you started, the kitchen.

Christ.

Only two punches and now you're unable to tell if you have entered the door to the left, or if it's the "library" you just passed. You really should have listened to Steve, who heard from his roommate that college parties always have their punch spiked.

Speaking of Steve, you really wished you could be by his side for this party but your friends dragged you away as soon as you showed up, talking about a giant slide at the back of the frat house, connecting the roof to the ground.

It's a miracle that the frat brothers still have their head and their spine intact.

This reminds you that Steve could be at the back of the house - hopefully he wouldn't be catching some sorority's eyes and got pinned to a wall and making out. Not that you wouldn't want him to get a girlfriend. No. You wish the best for him.

Absolutely the best. Which means those dumb girls with only "ten tips of making you lose more weight" in their head are no good for him.

You walk around the house to reach the backyard, where Steve sits on a bench all by himself, the phone in his hand, pending on a messaging interface.

"Hey, ready to go?" You sit down, swinging an arm around his shoulders.

Okay, so maybe you are a little dizzy due to the weird fruit punch. And your arm is a bit too tight around Steve's skinny shoulders. So tight that he leans towards you, nearly banging his head on your shoulders.

He quickly swipes the messaging app away and tucks the phone in his pocket, patting his hand on your back, hesitant and soft, "Yeah, I've been ... I'm thinking the same. Got a lecture tomorrow at 8:30."

You hum in agreement, quickly letting go of his shoulder and raising a big smile, "C'mon."

"And Buck?" Steve shrugs on his large jacket when he gets up from the bench, "should we tell him we're going?"

"Pfft." You tug on the corner of his sleeve, urging him to go, "He's a big boy. He'll be fine."

The image of Bucky tongue-kissing two girls at the same time makes you shiver. Even if you adore Bucky - you adore Bucky and Steve both, it's cringe, watching your friend making out with someone else.

And you rather not know about Bucky's (what he claimed to be - healthy) relationships, although you enjoy gossips as everybody else.

You are on your way back to your dorms. You love it that the three of you don't live far away from one another. A drop by, a visit is so simple when Steve basically lives the building right next to your place, and the frat house Bucky's living is a 10-minute walk away.

Escaping the crowd, you and Steve walk back to your places. Dim, orange streetlamps barely covers the sidewalk as you and Steve head home. Where you and Steve embrace this little peace and quiet that's hard to come by.

"So... uh... I've been texting you just now." Steve starts, awkwardly, clenching his phone in his pocket.

"Texting?" You almost forget about your phone, but surely it's in your back pocket - "Oh shit." You murmur, when your hand reminds you that your back pocket is empty, "Oh shit, my phone!" Your eyes widen in panic, while Steve takes a few more seconds to understand your trouble.

"Did you lost it? Did you bring it there? Did you-"

He looks more anxious than you are.

"I did. I checked my emails before I went inside. I put it..." your voice trails away as you try to remember, "Fuck, I think it's in my jacket. I left it in the cloak room because the house is too warm."

It is five meters away from his place, and you sigh, "Shit. Guess I have to go back and get my jacket. Look, just get inside. I'll text you when I get my phone back, okay?"

"But-"

You didn't wait for his reply before you start to run to the frat house. You hope it isn't too late for your jacket and your phone. You heard there might be pick-pocketing in some of the parties.

After what feels like forever - which is five minutes, you are relieved to find your jacket, your keys, your phone, and everything in your pocket is still intact, right where you left them in the cloak room.

You briefly say goodbye to Bucky on your way out when he's yelling for either Cherry or Cheryl at the door, though his brain is completely toasted by alcohol, and fails to match your face with his memory. You doubt he will even remember this encounter in the morning.

"Idiot." You mutter under your breath, after Bucky shoves past you, now sing-songing that girl's name, clearly way too drunk to remember anything more than the syllable "Cher".

See, that's why you hate people drinking.

As you shrug on your jacket for the chilly night, and pulls out your phone to check your messages again, you almost stumble upon someone standing right in front of you.

"Steve?" Your raise your head from your phone. You have yet to read his messages, finger hovering above the messaging app, but you are too surprised to open them anyways, "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go back to your dorm?"

It's sweet for him to wanting to accompany you back here, and walk you home again. It really is. And you are glad to see him, even if it means you have to carry an EpiPen and an inhaler all day for him, just in case his ran out.

Steve looks pale. He is pale since he's a kid. His body can't carry enough iron so he has to take supplements to prevent him from worse affects of anemia. He purses his lips into a line, staring at you for a moment, looking sad, "It's Bucky, isn't it?"

"What's about Bucky?" Shoving the phone away, you eye him suspiciously, "Did you eat the mushrooms those sorority girls offer you and start to have visions?"

He gestures to your phone, "It's Bucky. And you don't want to..."

He didn't finish his sentence. Looking at you as if there's something way bigger than this strange conversation he is starting.

"Never mind." He murmurs, kicking a small pebble under his shoes into the grass.

"No?" You elbow his arm, "You're being weird. Spill."

"It's just..." Steve looks frustrated, "you haven't looked right since you saw him kissing. And I can't offer you any ... anything because ... And you saw my message, but don't want to answer directly without..."

"What on earth are you talking about?" You furrow your brows into a knot, "What does Bucky has to do with... whatever you're talking about? With me? And what's the message? And why are you acting strange?"

"You like Bucky!" He blurts out.

You are completely awe-struck. "WHAT?"

"You got upset when he kissed those girls! And then you came to find me asking to go home. And now you want to tell him that you love him -"

"Hold on for a second -" You growl.

"But he's drunk! I know you hate others getting drunk and you still said your goodbyes! Calling him an idiot behind his back just now because he's yelling for those dumb blondes instead of-"

Your blood has just gone cold.

He can't possibly think that you are into that sweet dumb brunet? Bucky has never been the center of your attention. And you only came to this party because Bucky said he invited -

"You're being ridiculous." You huff, barely containing your anger and disappointment as you choose to head home instead of listening to his nonsense.

"I know it's wrong of me to just send you a text and tell you how I feel about you-"

This definitely put a halt to your steps.

"-and I like you and you know Buck. You know who he is and I don't want you getting hurt-" Steve says miserably, almost at a last resort, salvaging what he clearly has ruined. A perfect friendship.

Sure, he likes you. What's not to be liked? Your humor? Your sass? Even you getting mad is cute for him. He couldn't help but say how much he likes you via words, because he's too nervous to say so in person. He should've kept it to himself, even if this means that he would be heart broken watching you smiling and laughing and treat ing him as a friend.

You turn around and take a few steps to him, making him gulp nervously, but still saying out loud, "He's a heart-breaker. We know that. You know that. I love you and I-"

Before you shut his mouth with a kiss.

And bite his plump lower lip.

"Ouch!" He covers his lips with his hand, feeling the swell where you bit him.

"You are a big fucking idiot, Steven Grant Rogers." You retort. The spiked fruit punch encourages you to swing your arms around his neck, as his body remains frozen, "There, happy? Calling you an idiot right to your face?"

"What-"

"Or do you need me to kiss you again to realize that I, in fact, love you back?"

Find my The Slumber Party Present Bingo Challenge here 👈

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jamneuromain · 1 year

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Steve Rogers x stark!reader

Steve and Tony's 'baby' (she is literally two years younger) sister have been dating... they don't want to tell Tony

But, tony begins to think something is happening and sends spider kid to spy for him

Tony finds out, and he bursts into her room to see her and Steve sleeping peacefully together

BUT HES TONY FUCKING STARK SO HE STARTS BLASTING AC/DC AND WAKES THEM UP

Steve then revives a lecture for dating Tony's sister, and yn revives a lecture for dating Steve

I just find the idea hilarious

And then after that, yn and Steve would walk out of the same room and tony would make gagging noises the whole time they were close

I'm thinking... although Tony trusted Peter with this mission, he didn't fully "trust" him with this mission...

Sorry for taking so long! I had a bit trauma with being waked up abruptly :(

False alarm

Steve Rogers x You (Reader)

Warning: Swearing, Pure Fluff, a lil humor,

Summary: Code Red.

Send it? Or don't send it?

Peter scratches the back of his head, and hits "send".

He scrolls his screen in expect for reply. But he gets nothing.

"Code Red! She hugs Mr. Lang for three Mississippi's today."

Before that, "Code Red! She laughed at Mr. Wilson's jokes."

Before that, "Code Red! She could be dating Mr. Barnes because she bought him plums!"

Stark, on the other hand, spares a brief glance at his screen and sighs.

"Peter Parker: Code Red! I saw her talking with Mr. Barton today! Mr. Barton touched her shoulders!"

"One mission. I gave that kid one mission." Tony grumbles, pinching his nose bridge as he winces, "one frigging mission and ..." He makes his notorious long face, "... and he has sent me a dozen false alarm right now."

"Sir, I will talk that kid out of it. Just gives me a chance-" Happy looks at Tony from the rearview mirror, guaranteeing and nodding his head, "I won't let you down Sir."

"You know what? Never mind." Tony shoves his sunglasses back on, putting that thin piece of transparent screen back into his pockets. "He'll bug me for another mission if I don't ask him to do something. Friday, mark all Peter Parker's message with the keyword 'Code Red' as read, and don't ever notice me again with these messages, will ya'?"

"Yes Sir." The AI answers.

Happy observes Tony, choosing his words carefully, "is there a chance, Sir, that Ms. Stark is not...?"

"STOP! I don't wanna hear it." Tony screws his eyes shut.

He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to acknowledge it. But he has to face it.

Ms. Stark, you, his little sister (though you would argue that you are not little anymore, being a mere couple of years younger than Tony), are in love.

Ridiculously, unabashedly, in love.

You have what the young people calls it these days: the relationship syndrome, where you would giggle (for Christ's sake, giggle!) and blush like a teenager!

"With whom I'm in a relationship is none of your damn ... darn business." You threw a bad language word at him when noticing Peter was in living room doing his homework. Glancing at Peter's direction, you dropped your voice, "besides, this is exactly why I don't want to tell you, even if I have a boyfriend."

"What? Why? ME???" The billionaire cried, "I'm your big brother! Of course I need to know are you in a relationship!"

Before you could slip through the loop hole in his words, he added, "and with whom."

You let out a laugh, pouring yourself a glass of wine, too tired to have this conversation at 10 pm, "yeah, you're not dad, Tones. Now get the ... get out!"

"This is my property! You can't tell me to get out!"

"Watch me."

"Hey, if you guys need some space I'd be happy to go back to my room." Peter shuffled the papers on the table, nervously piping up.

"Yes!" "No!" Tony and you gave separate answers, then glared at each other.

"Uh- I'm just gonna go back to- uh-" Peter balanced his heavy backpack and his big pile of papers and laptop with a pen on top of everything, nearly bumping his knee when he missed a step.

"No, you stay. I'm done with him." You grabbed your glass and headed to your quarters, mumbling some dark words under your breath.

Tony pursed his lips, watching your figure disappeared behind doors and walls.

"Kid, you want a mission?"

"Yeah! I mean, of course, Mr. Stark, Sir! Anything! I'm absolutely ready for my first assignment - I mean mission!"

"...that's not really a question but fine, here's what you are going to do."

And that's what his spur of the mind get him. Text bombarding from the Peter kid, reporting possible "target" of your boyfriend. So far, nothing special came from his texts.

Seriously? Buying plums? You and Natasha were out buying groceries that day, of course you are buying plums.

Three Mississippi's? Is that how the kids are counting seconds these days?

The rest are just more ridiculous. As ridiculous as the idea of eight track tapes.

Stark sighs deeply.

He's gonna kick that mysterious boyfriend's ass when he finds out who exactly is the guy.

A few hours later...

"Is this, what, the fifth time tonight that the fire alarm got triggered?" You muffle your yawn under your palm, earning a chuckle from the blonde super soldier, who is leaning against the door frame, and welcomes you with out-stretched arms.

The shrieking fire alarm has been on and off tonight. Even though Friday has made sure there's no visible fire, the AI keeps receiving sensors reporting temperature abnormalities in different parts of the building.

It also keeps waking you and the blonde supersoldier a couple of doors away.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Stark. I will double check the cameras and the sensor data to make sure there's no actual fire. I will turn off the fire alarm for now." The AI replies softly, "you may go back to bed now, Ms. Stark."

Shrieking is dialed down. But the warm embrace offer still stands.

You hold onto his hand, but not moving forward an inch to fall into his warm hug. "Anthony will see." You mumble, feeling his rough palm on yours.

"I miss you, doll face. My bed feels cold without you." Steve looks like a kicked puppy, pouting with his sad eyes, "lemme hold you for a second."

Who are you to say no when he's pouting his perfectly kissable lips?

Your tired body finds its home, snuggling his broad chest and strong arms. Your hands bringing his head down for a kiss.

" 'kay, I'll delete the footage in the morning." You stifle another yawn, and follow Steve to his room, where you also miss because of the recent spying businesses Tony assigned the kid to do.

A few feet away, Peter is hanging upside down from the ceiling in his invisible suit, frantically texting.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Stark! But she just followed Cap to his room! "

Three seconds later,

"SIR, CODE RED!!!!!!"

Unbeknownst to Peter, he "sits" on the temperature sensor again, having the fire alarm blasting the building once more.

On Steve's, or your shared bed at this point, the blonde smiles when you try to minimize the voice by dragging the duvet over your head, which he is sure you will smother yourself within ten minutes. Steve covers your ears with his palm, blocking all noises that will pry you out of sleep.

"Good night, sweetheart." He whispers.

A few more hours later...

"Friday, play Highway to Hell in the loudest voice possible, please. "

The billionaire sticks his fingers in his ears, watching your eyes snap open the minute rock music fills this room with lead singer screaming and electric guitar. Steve scrambles out of bed before you even realize what's going on, he swings the lamp near bedside by his hand and looks as if he's about to attack any second. And he probably would have attacked if he doesn't recognize Tony first.

"What the fuck, Anthony! Friday, turn off the fucking music!" You yell, throwing your fluffy pillow at your older brother, "that's not funny!"

Friday turns the music off in an instant. Your heart pounding in your chest. You could have had a heart attack.

"No shit, young lady, it's not funny." The genius who thought it was a good idea waking you up with loud music scoffs, not to mention dodging your attack with ease, "I understand if you want to screw anyone on the team, but this? Him???"

"Excuse me?" You can't help but roll your eyes.

He glances at Steve, "and you, that's how you take care of my sister when I'm gone? By taking her to the bed? Good care indeed."

Steve rubs his eyes with the heels of his palm, "for Christ's sake, Tony, I'm sorry. But that," he gestures to the sound speaker hanging on top of your head, "was excessive."

Tony waves his hands dismissively, "I'll deal with you later. Now, you," he points his finger at you, "get out of Steve's room. I hope you are decent at least."

"It's fucking four thirty in the morning. I'm not going anywhere until I finish my sleep."

There. You've said that. You fall back on to your pillow. Your heart still pounding frantically in your ribcage.

There's probably too many bad language word in one conversation, but Tony had it coming when he decided to wake you before the sun even comes up.

"Uh-uh. You're not staying in the same room. Rogers, you and I are gonna talk. NOW." Tony wiggles his index finger, and motions for Steve to step out of his own room.

Your consciousness drifts to a place between sleep and awake. You are on the verge of falling asleep again when a burning furnace - probably your boyfriend who had to "talk" with your annoying brother just now - slips back into the warm cover. You acknowledge his presence by taking his bicep as your pillow again, sprawling your arm across his chest.

"I guess you don't have to delete the footage now." He chuckles, holding you closer to his body.

"Hmm." Is all that you can reply. You would have said "Sure. Whatever" if you are conscious, but you couldn't muster up the strength or the clarity to answer.

"I'm fairly sure he'll still be disapproving whenever he sees both of us around."

"Hmmmmm." I don't really care......

"But he's ... processing, now." Steve kisses your forehead, "sleep tight, sweetheart."

You'll ... deal with that ...... tomorrow ..........

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fluff #inbox <3 #inbox requests #jnmanswers

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jamneuromain · 5 months

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You sweet, beautiful bean! Happy hoelidays to you! ❄️ I wanted to drop you a small token of appreciation for all of your support! ❤️

Warnings: Soft!dark Steve. Mob elements. Abduction and forced relationship. Forced exhibitionism. Implied dub con oral sex (m receiving).

—

You pressed your lips together in a firm line to try to stop the way your lower lip was wobbling. Tears burned at the back of your eyes but you stubbornly blinked them away.

You could be brave.

You had to be brave.

It really shouldn't surprise you, after all, considering who your father was, that you would one day end up here, just another pawn in the mob game.

A gift to be given to your now dead father's biggest rival, mobster Steve Rogers.

As you stood in the middle of his study late at night after being taken from your family home and delivered to him–like a present–he slowly circled you like the predator that he was.

Steve finally came to a stop before you, his big, broad body towering over yours. He was so close that you could feel the heat of him seep through the thin silk material of your robe and your sleep cami and panties that lay beneath that.

Eyes like two dark pools of desire, Steve gently tugged on the tie at the front of your robe, touching you for the first time as his fingers skimmed your bare shoulders as he pushed the robe from your body.

You shivered as you felt it pool at your feet, your nipples pebbling hard, from the cold air of the room, you firmly told yourself.

Despite the way you wanted to shove him away, to run from him, to hide from him, you didn't. As he continued to undress you–leisurely, enjoying himself–you stood before him and stared past him, focusing on keeping your terrified, humiliated tears at bay.

You lost that battle once he knelt at your feet and tugged your panties down, slowly rising to stand over you once more, his big, warm hands skimming along the curves of your body and feeling the way you shook with a suppressed sob as he admired you.

Steve cooed at you softly, tugging you close, uncaring of how rigid you were against him as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

"You're a worthy gift, sweetheart. So, here's the deal, I don’t want to hurt you," he spoke firmly–authoritatively–as his hands gently caressed along your bare back. "But you’re mine now, and the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you, do you understand?”

Sniffling back a new wave of tears, you nodded shakily.

“Good," Steve praised, stepping away and tipping your face up with a solitary finger beneath your chin so your eyes had no choice but to meet his. "Then get on your knees and show me.”

Another sob caught in your chest as you stared at him, your body burning with shame at his request–his command–and with a new flood of tears streaming down your cheeks, you sank to your knees at Steve's feet, fingers trembling as you reached for his belt and he purred out a very pleased:

“Good girl.”

OMG SIRI!!!

This is literally the best Christmas gift I could ever hope for!!!

HOE-KAY-

Steve was nice to you, to say the least. He gave you his card, so you can buy dresses, handbags, heels, ... whatever you want. Occasionally, he'd take you shopping too. Expensive lingerie that wouldn't last more than an hour after you put it on, jewels that go around your neck and wrist or end up between your butt cheeks.

He was the decent gentleman in New York by day, and a ferocious monster at night. Take, take, take was all he did, ripping orgasms from your poor body until there was no more left in you.

His favorite words are "one more." "One more kiss for me, sweet girl." When you would offer your swollen lips. "One more, just one more." When he was coaxing and cooing, rubbing ruthless circles on your puffy bud, while his cock slammed all the way down to your cervix, squeezing a pathetic whimper out of your sore throat.

I need a mob steve right now or I'd burst in horniness

Thank you sm for this snippet<333

#jnmreads #jnmanswers #jnmwrites #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #inbox <3 #inbox open

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