Imagine your OTP stuck in an elevator after they’ve had a fight.
steve says i love you first, because he’s old and tired—old in a body that betrays him in the hardest of ways, a body that will never give him the excuse to just stop and rest. steve says i love you first, and he says it soon, too. he says it because he feels it, and that’s good enough a reason, and because he hasn’t had something good, something his in a long time. steve says i love you because sam is sitting on their bed—their bed—looking exhausted but beautiful, and the bruise steve sucked on the tender skin of his collarbone the night before is still there. steve says i love you for a gazillion of reasons—because he told sam not to come with him twice now and sam did so anyway, because steve dived from a building and wings literally spurted from sam’s back, because steve sees himself in the way sam’s hands close instinctively around a gun, protection and responsibility written all over the tense line of his jaw.
steve says i love you because he does.
and sam… sam looks surprised for a second, and then just happy, and he pushes himself off the mattress to walk up to steve and press him against the nearest wall, gently but firmly, until they’re just one four-legged giant monster and steve just has to breathe in to smell sam’s coconut shampoo. and he doesn’t say anything, which is weird, because he’s usually the talker; but he noses at steve’s throat and kisses him very softly, and steve can hear the i love you better than if sam had been yelling it.
(later, he does say it. why d’you think i’m here, with a cocky smile. steve grins and elbows him in the ribs instead of blurting out me too me too me too like he wants to.)
yes please all the fluff (っ´ω`ｃ)
haven’t drawn them in a while, thanks for your request!
It starts out subtle, then it turns a little flirty… until someone’s foot gets a little too aggressive and then suddenly it’s an all out war. Now they’re just playing some weird kind of thumbwar with their feet, trying to trap the other’s foot under there own.
There’s kicking involved. A lot of kicking. Steve gives a particular good one right to Tony’s shin which makes Tony jerk back in surprise, glaring at Steve, as they both freeze to make sure no one noticed. Aside from a cursory glance from Natasha, everyone’s attention seems to still be focused elsewhere. They dive right back in and manage to keep it up for the majority of the meeting.
The footwar only ends when, after Tony manages to gain the upper
handfoot, Steve lashes out in an attempt to take control and accidentally kicks the leg of the table. Hard.
It’s hard for people to not notice when the table collapses underneath them. Especially as it takes Clint, who had been silently snoozing on folded arms, with it to the floor.
“Are we really doing this?” Tony huffs. “Arguing about the registration? While in bed? Not to mention naked in the said bed.”
“Seems we are,” Steve smirked back.
“I mean, sure, we can talk, I do like talking. I’m not suggesting a thing, but there’s plenty of other topics we could arguing about while in bed. Naked. Just saying…”
“Like, who’s on top, we could argue about who’s on top instead of the registration?”
“You make it sound like the registration wasn’t an argument about that,” Steve replies.
“Ah, you got me there.”
“Trust me, I like this kind of arguing a whole lot better,” Steve sighs, shifting his hold around Tony to drop a kiss on his naked shoulder. “We’re not actively trying to kill each other, for one thing.”
“Ever heard such term as ‘little death’, Steve?” Tony shimmies, rubbing against Steve pointedly. Steve snorts and drops more kisses on Tony’s collarbone.
its not that fluffy and its just a quick doodle but i hope u feel better soon B^)
So, it seems the 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon has claimed some of its first victims. People have already died because of unsafe BDSM practices copied off this poor excuse of a book. So, to any of the people here who might have an interest in BDSM, let me beg you to at the very, very least, never forget the following: