#angrythingstarlight

@kinanabinks | in my hands | walnut handshakes | no more mr. nice guy | the penthouse | it’s only natural

@hansensgirl | go ahead and cry, little girl | you better not shout | and i'll cry if i want to | like smarty does | i'm in the water | favorite flavors | brooklyn’s favorite phantom | the big, bad werewolf

@mypoisonedvine | bankrupt | the martyrdom of st. valentine

@evansbby | pouty princess | dilf ari: scraped knee | daddy's little princess | halloween princess

@onsunnyside | little fears | third eye | crybaby | flamingo king | sad girl | step by step | miss misery | wish i may, wish i might | put me in a movie | why are you scared | fraternal instincts | hell’s kitchen

@avintagekiss24 | polar

@angrythingstarlight | wind you up & tie you down

@cloudystevie | you are my delusion | red, white, blue's in the sky

@nony-bear | captain jealousy | matched

@jtargaryen18 | all heaven in a rage | dark commander | barber & weiss | naughty ransom holiday tales | how i disappeared

"Mr. Rogers, nice to see you," you greet. Steve is pleased with the way your gaze travels to the floor, struggling to meet his.

"I told you to call me Steve, sweetheart," he replies smoothly.

Your hesitation permeates the air around you. As you roll the plump flesh of your lips between your teeth with the most adorable frown, Steve's frustration grows. It takes every bit of self-control in him not to tackle you to the ground in front of a bunch of confused toddlers and shocked parents and have you keen your delicious submission beneath him. He bets you'd cry. And that your tears would taste so sweet.

You chuckle lightly. "I don't think it'd be very proper of me to do that, Mr. Rogers."

Steve almost mirrors you laugh with one of his own. If you knew the plethora of improper things involving you constantly playing in his head like an all too vivid daydream on a ceaseless loop. If you knew. But you don't.

Which is why you switch topics without a care.

"Oh... are you sure you're okay to help watch the children on their field trip? We all know how important your work is, Mr. Rogers..."

"Nonsense, doll. I wouldn't rob Grant of this opportunity to explore."

Just like Steve wouldn't rob himself of an opportunity to explore your body under the cover of darkness and distance from too many prying eyes.

At the mention of his name, Grant chirps happily and Steve bends down to pick him up.

"You'll really come this time, daddy?" The pintsize version of him inquires with a pout. Steve tousles the toddler's blonde locks.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, buddy. Daddy plans to have lots of fun on this trip."

Fun. The word bounces in his brain, sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins as each of his thoughts converges towards you.

He's packed heavily for the trip. All the gear he brought took up more space than he planned. It's all carefully mapped out in his head. How he'll get you away from the rest, chase you as you inevitably try to run, and finally lay claim on what's his.

"It's really sweet, how good you are at taking care of him on your own," you say, fiddling with your hands.

The way your innocence clogs the air, washing over him like a balm, calling to him like a siren's song, damn near has Steve spill his release in his pants.

"I'd do anything for Grant."

"You're a good dad."

And you will be a perfect mother. You will be all that he needs. The certainty of it sizzles below his skin. As you walk away after a stilted, polite goodbye, Steve has to quiet the panther in him as it paces in impatience, the craving tearing a hole through his chest. A hole in the shape of your smile, your tempting curves and your wide, terrified eyes.

Soon, he whispers to himself, to quell the beast in him.

𝑰 𝑵𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘

𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼 𝓔𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓼

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓽

𝓗𝓮𝓷𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵