Description: Yoongi likes one night stands and he understands how they work. What he doesn’t understand, however, is how he ended up in bed with a probably-not-legal kid crying in his arms about his broken heart, because he’s pretty sure (and correct him if he’s wrong) that a babysitting job was not what he was looking for when he went to the opening of his friend’s new club.
Title: Tomorrow, For Sure Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Genre: This isn’t your average every day fluff, this is ADVANCED FLUFF. Warnings: You may or may not get a tooth ache from how fukn sweet this is Request: Y’all thought lol A/N: I’m shit I know I’m sorry
It had been weeks, maybe even a full month since you and
your boyfriend, Steve, had been able to have a quiet evening together.
Something was always coming up, whether it was paperwork for you, missions for
him, friends in town, Tony Stark throwing a party, whatever. It was getting
old, only being able to see each other when you go to bed, sometimes not even
then. You hadn’t spent more than ten minutes together in what felt like
forever, and you were both being affected by it. “Tomorrow, for sure,” you both
would say to each other, mostly just to let the other person know that you, in
fact, wanted to spend more time with them. Then tomorrow would roll around and
you’d be busy, so you repeated the phrase. It was almost your second way of
saying “I love you.”
Steve had just left for the day when you woke cursing the
sunlight that was creeping through the crack in the curtains. It was like
clockwork; the moment the front door closed, you were awake, wishing he had at
least kissed you goodbye before leaving. You didn’t have much time to be upset,
however, because when you checked the clock you did a series of gymnastics to
get out of bed. You were so late for work; you may as well have just called in
sick for the day.
You were in and out of the shower in five minutes flat, not
even bothering to dry your hair. Your uniform was a wrinkled mess, but you
didn’t have the time to fix it. You stuffed a bagel in your mouth and grabbed
your keys, water dripping from your hair down the back of your neck and soaking
your shirt. It was going to be one of those days, you could already tell. Your
phone buzzed in your back pocket and you pulled it out, reading the text from
your coworker that crossed the screen. “So sorry to hear about your aunt, Y/N!
Hope you enjoy your day off, though!” it read.
“What?” you said out loud, your voice muffled by the bagel
between your teeth. You wondered how to respond, but mostly you wondered what
was going on with your aunt.
The sound of jingling keys and a door knob turning caught
your attention. You turned toward the front door and watched Steve walk back
in, a look of confusion on his face.
“What are you doing home?” you asked, taking the bagel out
of your mouth.
“Nat called and told me I had the day off,” he said,
scratching the back of his head and tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter.
“Apparently I have the day off too,” you said, showing him
“That’s weird,” Steve said, placing his hands on his hips.
Just then, both of your phones went off at the exact same
moment. You looked at Steve, his expression mirroring yours. When you looked at
your phone, it was a text from Tony which read, “You’re welcome :-)”
It suddenly clicked and you placed your phone down on the
table, laughing at the situation. Steve read the text as well, his eyebrows still
“’You’re welcome’?” Steve muttered aloud, not having put two
and two together.
“Steve, Tony gave us both the day off,” you explained,
watching his expression change as he finally understood. Steve squeezed his
eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling slowly before
exhaling. You ran a hand through your still soaking hair and chuckled,
wondering what Tony had told your boss regarding your aunt.
“So, how does a date in the park sound?” Steve asked, his
eyes still closed but a smile on his face.
“I think that sounds perfect,” you said, “but I need to go
dry my hair first.”
You were sprawled out on your back across a blanket, Steve
next to you on his side. The sun warmed your skin and hair as clouds floated
above, providing shade every few minutes. Steve was watching you silently,
drinking in your features and running his fingers over the skin of your exposed
thigh. It was a warm day, so you’d decided to wear shorts, and you were glad
you did. Steve’s touch never failed to give you butterflies, especially on your
“Nat keeps asking me when we’re gonna start having kids,”
Steve said softly, amusement in his voice.
“What do you tell her?” you asked, messing with the material
of the blanket.
“I tell her that we’re not even married,” he said, “So then
she asks when that’s gonna happen, because she wants to help you pick out a
“That’s fair,” you chuckled, “I trust her sense of fashion.”
“Wanda wants to be your maid of honor,” Steve said, his
smile growing, “Can you imagine Wanda in a bridesmaids dress?”
“I’ll be sure to pick out the most ridiculous bridesmaid
dresses,” you laughed, “Y’know, if we ever get married.”
“When we get married,” Steve corrected, “I will marry you
“What if I say no?”
“You wouldn’t, I know you.”
“Are you sure? This is the first time we’ve had a real
conversation in like, a month.”
“Oh, come on. I know you’d say yes.”
“You’re right. How could I say no to a face like that?”
You turned on your side and placed your hands on either side
of Steve’s face and squished his cheeks, making him laugh and pull your hands
away. He laced his fingers with yours and became lost in your eyes, unable to
break away from your gaze.
“So what’dya say?” Steve asked, “Wanna get married?”
“Is tomorrow too soon?” you replied, squeezing his hands.