I'm bad at pick up lines and I'm not very flirtatious but you're super pretty and funny and awesome and I'd seriously love to be the Arthur to your Molly any day. Keep being amazing and have a blessed night.
((OOC: I mean, Molly is taken. But I could make room for you. ;}))
Hal took you on the roof under the stars, his flannel blanket spread on the shingles, the events after were the opposite of cute. He'd be upright, hands pressed on the window frame from the outside to give him more leverage. When you wanted the attention of his lips you pull him down by a grip on his biceps. "You like it when I pound into, Sugar? Make ya feel real good?" He moans, kissing you as his damp hair falls against your skin. You both moan as loud as you wanted because of the vast area.
“The whole universe is watching, moan for them sweetheart”
Letting Lance work off some frustration on you after a long day with his trainees would include?...
He wouldn’t say much when he walked into the house but you knew from the tension in his posture and the look on his face he had a hard day. He holds his hand out to you as you sit on the couch and you take it, a wordless promise he can use you to take out his frustration.
He brings you in the bedroom and says one word: “strip”. You do as he says, not daring to test the limits. He takes off his jacket, but leaves the rest on, a show of power. Once you’re stripped he bends you over his knee. “Tell me your safe word” he says, caressing your bare skin.
“Bronze” you whisper.
You feel his hand twitch on your ass. “Remember it, sweetheart”.
ARE YOU DOING PROMPTS!? Praise jesus, hallelujah, etc. This kind of is a request for a sequel to Late Show, but does not necessarily have to follow. Really, I just want to read Steve in lingerie. (And maybe felching...? This is so embarrassing, but fuck it, whatever) but mostly lingerie. Like, for real. That's it. That's my only requirement. Excuse me while I eagerly await for every Friday ever. You're the best.
no u. i got about THREE HUNDRED lingerie prompts (which is amazing, of course), which will be filled promptly so here i’m zeroing in on “sequel to late show,” because is anything hotter than drunk chris evans i MEAN steve
anon, i’m using your prompt for these purposes here, but i am going to fill it separately as per your request because it’s f*cking hot as HELL. quite simply, i am trash:
Steve is humming to himself, terribly off-key, under his breath. His arm presses to Bucky’s where they sit side by side in the middle of the couch, ties loosened, tired as hell; rooms over the music of Stark’s after-gala party thuds loud, and people laugh and scream and dance.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Bucky asks.
“Hmm?” Steve murmurs. His fingers have been rubbing at the fabric of the couch, soft and red. He looks to Bucky, his blue eyes hazy, his mouth dark from the liquor. Then he grins. Goddamn it. “Nothin’.”
“Nah. I’m havin’ a good time.” The Brooklyn comes out in his voice double-time when he’s wasted on Thor’s top-shelf stuff. Bucky loves it.
“You been staring at the wall for fifteen minutes.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve says, his eyes teasing. “You bored, Barnes? Want some entertainment?”
“Not when you got that look on your face I don’t,” Bucky lies, but Steve is already pressing their mouths together.