#steverogers

There was a secret code in college, an unspoken rule if you will. Never, ever, by any means, fall in love, or sleep with the professors. And yes, they might be handsome, and yes, they might be only seven years or so in age difference. But never, EVER, be romantically or sexually involved. And this rule stuck by most students and more professors. There were young girls who always fawned over the brooding, tall, and mysterious drinks of water known as their music or mathematics teachers. And boys that would whisper among themselves who was the hottest, Ms. Romanoff, the science teacher, or Mrs. Maximoff, the criminology professor.

But you? You swore the minute you only barely got accepted to the college―since you were late for the cut―that you would not look at your teachers in such an inappropriate and unprofessional way. Besides, you were one day going to be joining them as a professor once you pass your training exam. You always wanted to teach visual arts and theater and this college has allowed you not only to study such majors and degrees but also train so that one day you’ll be able to teach them yourself to others.

You worked hard, studied instead of sleeping. Sleeping instead of hanging out with friends. Even if you could call your sleep, sleep. It was more like interval naps thirty minutes at a time. Your life revolved around your work, and yet when you met the stand-in, since your normal teacher was away for a couple of weeks. It was like your brain no longer understood how to function. And the worst part…

There were two of them.

Both strong, tall, and deviously handsome. One had a voice so deep you could feel the vibrations of his vocals every time he spoke, and the other had eyes as piercing as the sun and a smile that could kill. To say they were your ideal type would be an understatement. And what was the icing on the cake? They are huge. Beefy broad shoulders, thick biceps and thighs, heavy chests. They were like super soldiers from a hero movie, and oh, how that made you swoon. Wanting nothing more than for them to pick you up and throw you around as if you weighed nothing. If you were to stand in between them, you surely would be caged in the best way possible.

You met them during the first term, six months ago. And every day since was a little unspoken game of cat and mouse. You didn’t flirt at first, still wanting to be professional but as your late hours at the library grew or the time spent sitting in an empty classroom for some quiet as your dorm was too loud to concentrate became more common. Mr Barnes and Mr Roger came to your aid to help you with your studies, of course. First, they would sit at the front of the classroom while you were at a row of desks. They would explain about being a teacher, cheat sheets of sorts, and tips for when to do your first training shift. Helping you understand the ins and outs of navigating college students. And then it slowly moved to one of them sitting next to you, Mr Barnes, you could smell his cologne, the musk of his natural scent. His arm would brush yours, occasionally making you see how his large biceps were. And they were definitely the same if not larger than your thighs. Your body felt so small next to him.

And then Mr Roger sat on the other side of you. The feeling of being caged was coming to reality, and it was burning a fire inside of you. You tried to brush away these feelings. They are your professors, after all and one day, co-workers, not some school crush to dote over. But they were so smooth-talking, charming, with flirtatious smiles, and your mind couldn’t help but wonder since they are so naturally big, were they big else where…

“You get all that peach?” Mr Roger’s voice snapped you out of your lewd thoughts, redness suddenly pooling on your cheeks. You see, that's why Mr Rogers had given you such a nickname, Peach, because of the shade of pink your cheeks would be whenever he made eye contact with you. Deep down you knew your professor shouldn’t be nicknaming his student but then again you didn’t take the classes they taught, and the longer you thought about it, the more okay it was to flirt back. After all, you were all adults.

“You seem a bit distracted today?” Mr Barnes grumbled behind you, making a shiver dance down your back. My god, if that man sounded like that on a regular basis, you wondered what his bedroom voice sounded like, or even better, his morning voice. “Is something bothering you?” He asked, placing his large hand on your shoulder, stopping you from turning to the side to see him. No, instead, he slowly rubbed his fingers deep into your tense muscle, making you feel relief surge through you. You almost forgot to answer the question, too focused on the older man's hands doing wonders on your shoulders.

“I-I uhmm…” You were lost, suddenly feeling Mr Rogers strongly grip the top part of your thigh, rubbing circles on your exposed flesh where the hem of your shorts are. “It’s just. M-mr Rogers..”

“Don’t worry, Peach, and I said already. Call me Steve. We are going to be co-workers soon. You should address me and Bucky as such.” He included his friend and co-worker at the end, letting you know what you’ve been told for the thousandth time, call them by their first names. “You seem tense, Sugar. What could ever be the cause of so much tension in this pretty body of yours.”

Your eyes snapped open now, looking at Mr Rogers―uh you mean Steve―in his intense stare. Did he just call you Sugar? Now, your face was definitely redder than a tomato at this point. “S-Steve..”

Steve groaned, biting his lip while rolling his eyes slightly. He had to pull back for a second before returning his hand to your thigh. “God, my name sounds so good when you say it.”

You looked away for a moment, feeling like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. The next thing you knew, a pair of large beefy arms pulled you by your waist until your ass was placed onto a board, hard, lap. “Say my name Doll Face. I wanna hear what my name sounds like coming off your pretty lips.” All barriers were gone and lines were being crossed. But none of you cared anymore. The flirtation became too much, more so for the men it seems and with Bucky’s lips finding the sweet spot behind your ear you couldn’t help but moan;

“Bucky…”

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.” The hold Buck had on you got tighter, and his huge biceps caged your back against his heavy chest. Your mind was spinning at the sheer thought that all Bucky and Steve had to do was squeeze you tight enough that you’d break. They are so much bigger than you, stronger than you. They could throw you around and do as they pleased to you and all you could―would―do is lay back and take it.

“We knew you’d be such a good girl for us Peaches. Just look at you, head empty already when we have barely touched you.” Steve chuckled, squeezing your thigh, letting his long fingers slip towards where you needed them most. “You want us to touch you, Sugar? Teach you some real lessons?” He emphasized the word ‘real’, all knowing that he and Bucky were going to teach you anything but a real lesson in this moment.

“Please…” You retched out for Steve, gripping his perfectly iron button-up, pulling him towards you. “Please show me…” He drew his lips to yours quickly as Bucky bit down onto your shoulder while his hands loosely moved to open your legs, letting Steve cup your entire wet cunt with his huge hand. You were most definitely in for the ride of your life.

-

You gasped loudly, Steve’s large hands slamming you onto the desk. Bucky had lifted you up off your chair, ripping your panties down while pulling up your skirt. It all happened so fast. Legs spread, Steve’s hot clothed crotch humping against your aching core. Your hands gripped the edge of the table, vaguely hearing both men whisper and chuckle. You felt so exposed under their gaze even though you were mostly dressed. Bucky’s deep chuckle caught your attention, making you shiver. “Look at that. She’s leaking down her thighs.” Bucky squatted down beside you, snaking his hand along your plump flesh. Picking up some of your juices that had spilled down towards your ankle. You had practically come just from them throwing you around like a rag doll. Steve’s hips snapped against you, letting you feel his growing erection as he let out a groan, feeling your slick seep onto his slacks.

“Fuck I might just nut humping this desperate cunt.” Steve gulped, his hands digging deep into the skin on your hips, creating crescent shapes from his nails. Your ears were ringing, as you felt so overwhelmed and they hadn't even touched you where you needed them yet.

“Buck..Stevie..” You gasped, suddenly hearing a loud clank of a belt buckle. A hand gripped your chin, letting your wide eyes see Bucky’s cock leaking pre-cum on his exposed tummy while he held the hem of his shirt up.

“Be a good doll and open up.” He let go of your chin, moving to pump his dick, tapping his red angry tip against your sealed lips. You opened up obeying every word both men gave. Flattening your tongue, you let Bucky’s large girth slide into your wet, warm mouth. “Fuck that’s it, baby. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your jaw went slack, stinging slightly as you tried not to gag. Bucky’s moans quickly filled the room, and he knew if they continued, they would only get louder. So he bit down on the fabric of his shirt he had been tightly gripping in his hand. You could feel him in your throat as he kept his thrusts slow and steady.

“Fuck look. She's getting excited just from sucking your cock Punk.” Steve had knelt down, coming face to face with your cunt. His mouth watered, studying the way you clenched around nothing every time Bucky thrusted into you. “Okay Sugar, for your first official lesson, let's see how quickly you squirt on my face.”

You whimpered around Bucky’s cock feeling Steve’s tongue lap a long, slow strip of your cum, sucking on your lower lips before pulling away with a pop. His mouth was hot and abusive, his fingers slipping in next to his tongue. They were pumping at a pace that was making your lower tummy burn. Your jaw was slack, tempting to lock or close tightly around Bucky. He seemed to notice picking up his pace in order to release deep down your throat. “Fuck DolI think I’m gonna bust down this pretty throat of yours. Is that okay? I want to empty myself in your mouth.”

You whimper around Bucky’s cock from his filthy words. Your fingers squeezing his thighs, a silent way for you to say ‘yes, please, do as you please’. and so he obeyed, snapping his hips against you, spilling ropes of cum down your throat. You tried to swallow it all but it was like his seed was endless, and when he finally stopped and slid out of you, his fingers gazed over your chin seeing you trying your best to gulp down the rest of the white cream. “Awe, was it too much Baby?”

Your eyes were watering as you were now contemplating just spitting it out. But you were in a classroom, and you wanted to not make too much of a mess. Bucky sensed your panic, kneeling down besides the desk you were still leaning against. He brought your face to his, clicking his tongue. “Well come here, Doll. Let me help.” His dark smirk made your head spin. “Sharing is caring afterall.”

His lips latched onto yours, letting his tongue slip into your half-full mouth. His seed spilled into his mouth, letting himself taste the saltiness of his come. He swallows quickly, making you cry out against his hot, wet muscle. Meanwhile, Steve hadn't stopped his assault on your aching pussy pumping to fingers deep inside you tipping you over the edge. Your climax was unlike anything you’ve felt before in your life. Your eyes were rolled back and your whole body tensed. You were on fire. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.”

“Hmm.” Steve chuckles against your cunt. “You got a potty mouth baby.” you had the temptation to bite back at him suddenly, knowing all they had been doing for the past twenty minutes was swear and spill out filth. But the gushing liquid flowing down your legs distracted you, moaning instead, feeling your knees buckle.

“Well why don’t ya look at that.” Bucky had stepped back to stand behind you, taking in the view of you slumped against the hard oak. Laying on top of the deck, legs almost practically dangling limp and white cream mixing with clear liquid pouring down onto the floor below you. Steve had stood up also, standing with his hands on his hips as if to admire his handy word, looking smug of himself. “Maybe we should take a picture. Document the first time we got our girl off, huh?”

Steve and Bucky were mumbling to one another as if you weren’t just lying on a school table fucked out of your mind in front of them. Suddenly you hear a click of a camera and your mind, as if a miracle, unfogs. Using your shaking arms you prop yourself on your elbows, wiggling your ass slightly while trying to look over your shoulder. “Fuck stay still princess.”

You tried to obey, noticing Steve’s flash on his phone. You’ve never been in such a dirty position, let alone filmed. You wanted to come just at the sheer thought these two very beefy men were so obsessed with what you looked like they needed to take photos for safekeeping. It makes you have a sense of power. Strangely. “James, Steve. Someone please…touch me.”

You couldn’t explain where this newfound confidence came from, but your words made both males instantly by you. Steve helped you up, leaning your chest against his while Bucky stood behind you, giving feathering kisses along your neck and covered shoulder blade. “We are here princess. You want us to touch you. Fuck you right here in this classroom.”

“Yes please,” you answered so sweetly, Steve swore he could have melted right then and there. Bucky already had his slacks down, quickly following with his boxers. He grasps your hips, lifting your shirt up slightly so he can get a good view of your ass. His large hand almost covered your entire plump left cheek, loving the way your body curves, rolls and folds beautifully. Like fresh bread dough, ready for Bucky to knead.

“Fuck, you gonna have to take us raw.” Bucky motioned, realizing he didn’t have condoms with him and he knew Steve was definitely not carrying. “You okay with that Doll?”

“Yes, please, sir.” The plea fell from your tongue before you could register what you had said. The pet name sent Bucky’s cock twitching. His fingers dug more into your hips, threatening to draw blood from the sheer tightness of his grip. His tip slid along your folds, picking up some of your slick, while Steve’s eyes were glued to where his best friend was almost connected to you. It was a sight he never wanted to forget.

“Fuck Baby, what did I say about calling us sir or Mr…” Steve’s voice was deep, deeper than normal. With a grumble hidden beneath. You whimper out a simple ‘sorry’ feeling a weird form of guilt, feeling bad for making your boys upset… your boys. That’s it. That’s what your mind thought of them as. But that’s if they’ll have you more than just today. Your eyes opened, looking straight at Steve. Your brow was scrunched as you reached for him. He stepped closer, his left hand gripping the back of your neck so you were at eye level with him. “If you keep calling us sir. I can’t promise what I might do to you.”

“S...Sir. Please, ahhh.” You gasp, suddenly feeling Bucky sink deep inside your cunt. Steve growls, pulling his cock out of his slacks, pushing you down so you were bent on an angle, your ass flushed against Bucky’s pelvis and Steve’s angry tip pressed firmly to your mouth. Pre-cum smeared on your tongue as you lapped along his shaft before he pushed inside your warm mouth.

"Fuck you feel amazing Princess." Steve threw his head back in a groan. His fingers laced in your messy hair, tightly guiding you along his cock. Bucky, on the other hand, had his nails dug into your plump flesh, thrusting at a speed that left no room for oxygen. He didn't let you get used to his size, but the burn made your tummy rumble. He stretched you out perfectly, making your eyes roll back and saliva pool in your mouth, which inevitably spilled out down Steve’s cock, coating his balls.

"Shit, Doll. Why didn't we do this sooner? Your pussy is so fucking tight. And warm. Feels like heaven." Bucky’s rambles cause you to clench around him, making his hips stutter a bit. Steve’s cock still deep down your throat you mumble around him, making the vibrations cause Steve to still himself, fearing he might come then and there.

“Come one, Sugar, why don’t you come for Bucky, hey? So we empty our loads in you.” You knew deep down Steve’s desperate words were because he was close, and given how shallow his thrusts were and no longer timed. You were aware he didn’t have long. So you just moaned in response, wiggling your hips against Bucky in a way to tell him to hurry up. Bucky’s dark chuckle went straight to your core, making your high draw closer. You no longer felt the shyness from before but a newfound feeling brewing in your gut. One that made you well aware that these two very large men were wrapped around your little finger. You let one hand go from Bucky’s thigh, bringing it down so you could rub your clit harshly, quickly finding a rhythm towards your release.

“Fuck I’m coming.” Bucky crossed his hands, placing them on opposite hip dips, slamming his cock just right into your soaked cunt, emptying his seed deep inside. This made you cum, clenching tightly around him, milking him of his juices. Steve on the other hand, with his eyes watching intensely at how his cock disappeared then reappeared from your mouth, he grabbed your hair into a messy ponytail, stilling his thrusts to come inside your slacked mouth. You tried your best to swallow but just like Bucky, it was like his white creamy liquid was endless. So when he pulled out of you, he was quick to pull you up by your hair, smashing his lips against your own. His tongue slipped inside, taking his cum into his own mouth and swallowing. You have never known a man to taste himself let alone swallow his own load. God, it made you hornier than those female students fawning over these two super soldier-like men in front of you now.

“Come on, Stevie. Come take her for a spin.” You could hear Bucky’s deep voice chuckling behind you. You pulled away from Steve seeing Bucky swiftly move to stand beside the larger man. He grabbed Steve’s cock, tugging it a bit with a smirk plastered on his face. “You still have one more in ya, why don’t you empty it into our sweet girl here.”

Bucky’s lips grazed Steve’s sweaty neck, licking along the other male's jugular before giving it a little bite. These two have definitely played this game before with one another. But whether or not it has been with another person involved is a different story. But you shook off any negative thoughts when you reminded yourself about what Bucky had called you. Our girl. God, these men will be the death of you. Steve didn’t have time to say anything as you quickly stood up, grabbing his shoulders tightly, much to your poor imbalance. His hands, without hesitation, gripped your hips, holding you close against his broad chest. You leaned in and kissed him quickly, desperately, but there was a hint of something more. A stillness, caringness behind his kiss, something that was screaming, more, more, more.

Steve’s hand fell from your hip, snaking to grab a handful of your ass cheek, giving it a rough squeeze. His action made you moan lowly into his mouth, his sharp inhale through his nose. Without breaking the kiss, he walked with you tightly in his grasp before the back of your legs hit the desk softly. You understood instantly what he wanted, removing your hands from his shoulders and then placing them down onto the oak table. You push yourself up with the little strength you have left, letting him shimmy between your spread thighs. He finally pulled away from your lips, so he could look down to where his cock was resting on your soaked tummy, “such a pretty baby. So ready for whatever we want. Are you a good girl Peach? Going to be my good girl?”

“Yes, Stevie. I want to be your good girl. For both of you.” You felt tears welt against the crease of your eyelids. Your nails dig into the wood beneath you. He chuckled, feeling a sense of pride from just how easily you submit to him and Bucky. How willing you are. He wonders what else they could get up to if they were in more of a private setting…

“That’s it, baby. Now, take a deep breath.” Steve knew he was much bigger than Bucky and even though he had prepped you and Bucky has fucked you senseless only a moment prior. He was still going to be a lot to take in. Girth and length. So you obeyed perfectly, taking in a deep, slow breath as you felt him slip inside you, inch by inch. Your mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape, following with a silent scream and brows scrunched. He was definitely the biggest you’ve ever felt before. You tilted your head back, letting Steve dive straight for your jugular, sucking a harsh purple mark on your neck that would be very visible later. You were going to have to hide that tomorrow, but for now, you basked in the feeling of his teeth, tongue, or lips, as he thrusted at a slow but intense pace. Your body felt like it was on fire, like you were a fuse box crackling electricity through water.

Everything was so sensitive.

And you needed more. Reaching up you grabbed Steve’s collar of his messy shirt, bringing his body close. His face nuzzled into your neck, snapping his hips at a pounding pace that quickly made you see stars. You were so close already, just needed a little push, and then your eyes wandered to a very desperate-looking Bucky with his fully hard cock again once again, pumping it like his life depended on it. His eyes were focused on the way Steve’s hips jackhammered into you, following the same rhythm with his fist. And that sight alone helps you climax, clenching tightly around Steve’s cock, milking the older man for everything he had.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” He mumbled against your neck, biting down hard onto your shoulder as he emptied his seed deep inside your womb. Everything suddenly went still, quiet. Even Bucky had stopped, coming all over his hand from the entertainment he was gifted before him. Steve’s breath was pooling against your shoulder, while your face nuzzled into his neck feeling his rapid pulse on the tip of your nose. There was nothing awkward about what had happened. But comfortable. Like you three were always meant to do this. Like all these games of cat and mouse were supposed to end up with you in their arms.

“So uh, another round back at ours?” Bucky’s question just caused you and Steve both to simply laugh.

-

Steve Rogers had faced aliens, HYDRA, and a maniac with a metal glove full of magic rocks.

None of that prepared him for a tiny plastic stick sitting on the bathroom counter.

⸻

The apartment was suspiciously quiet.

Which, in Steve’s opinion, usually meant one of three things:

1. You were asleep.

2. You were mad at him.

3. You were planning something.

Considering he’d walked into the kitchen to find flour everywhere and the smoke detector still recovering from “experimental cinnamon rolls,” he was leaning toward option three.

“Babe?” Steve called, hanging his jacket by the door.

“Bathroom!” you yelled back.

Steve blinked. “Are you okay?”

A beat.

“Emotionally? Debatable.”

He immediately abandoned his jacket.

The bathroom door was cracked open, steam curling out from your shower earlier. Steve pushed it wider and found you sitting cross-legged on the counter in oversized pajamas, staring at him with an expression somewhere between excitement and complete panic.

His super-soldier senses kicked in instantly.

“You’re hurt.”

“No.”

“Someone died.”

“No!”

“You adopted another cat.”

“…Not relevant.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “How is that not—”

“Steven Grant Rogers.” You held up a hand. “I need you to stay calm.”

The man who had jumped out of planes without parachutes visibly stiffened.

“That sentence has literally never ended well.”

You bit your lip to stop a grin. “Okay, but this one’s good.”

Steve looked unconvinced. “Last time you said that, we ended up in New Jersey buying a haunted lamp.”

“The lamp was vintage.”

“The lamp whispered.”

You hopped off the counter before he could continue his anti-ghost-lamp propaganda and grabbed his hands.

And suddenly you were nervous.

Which was ridiculous because this was Steve. Your Steve. Golden retriever in a super-soldier body. Human sunshine with biceps.

Still, your heart hammered.

“We weren’t really trying trying for long,” you started.

Steve’s brows furrowed instantly.

“…Okay?”

“And statistically speaking, this happened kind of fast.”

His confusion deepened. “What happened fast?”

You slowly reached behind you and pulled out the pregnancy test.

Steve stared at it.

Then at you.

Then back at it.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

You frowned. “Honey?”

Steve blinked once.

Twice.

Then he whispered, “Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“The… two lines thing?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

You snorted. “I took three tests.”

“Three.”

“And one digital.”

“The one that says the word?”

“Yes, old man, the one with the word.”

Steve looked back down at the test like it might suddenly explode.

Then, very seriously:

“But we only stopped using protection like…”

“Five weeks ago.”

His mouth dropped open.

“Five weeks?!”

“I know.”

“That’s not— Is that allowed?!”

You burst out laughing.

Steve looked personally betrayed by biology.

“No because genuinely, I thought there’d be more paperwork involved somehow.”

“Paperwork?”

“I don’t know! Waiting periods! Interviews!”

You laughed harder as he started pacing the bathroom.

“Oh my God.”

He dragged both hands down his face.

“Oh my God.”

“You okay there, Captain?”

“We made a person.”

“Well. Technically we started one.”

Steve stopped dead in the middle of the room.

“We made a tiny human.”

His eyes got wide.

“With your attitude and my metabolism.”

You pointed accusingly. “That child is coming out craving pancakes and starting arguments.”

Steve made a strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

Then suddenly he was in front of you again, hands cupping your face so gently it made your chest ache.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered, like saying it too loudly might scare the moment away.

Your eyes softened. “Yeah.”

“With our baby?”

You grinned. “Pretty sure it’d be concerning otherwise.”

Steve laughed so hard he actually snorted.

A full, helpless super-soldier snort.

“Oh my God,” he wheezed, forehead dropping against yours.

And then—

The tears started.

Not dramatic crying.

Just silent, overwhelmed tears slipping down his cheeks while he laughed under his breath like he couldn’t believe his own life.

“Oh, honey,” you said softly.

Steve shook his head immediately. “No, these are happy tears, don’t you dare make fun of me.”

“I would never.”

“You literally filmed me crying during Up.”

“Because you saluted the dog.”

“He was a good dog!”

You kissed him before he could continue defending animated animals in court.

Steve melted instantly, wrapping both arms around your waist carefully now, already protective.

Already a dad.

When you pulled back, he looked dazed again.

“Wait.”

You squinted. “What?”

“We have to tell Sam.”

You groaned. “Absolutely not first.”

“He’s going to lose his mind.”

“He’s definitely going to buy the baby a tiny Captain America shield.”

Steve considered this.

“…That’s actually adorable.”

“No.”

“And Bucky’s gonna pretend he doesn’t care but then secretly become the most overprotective uncle alive.”

“He already threatened the mailman for bending our packages.”

“He looked suspicious.”

You laughed again, and Steve just stared at you for a second like he couldn’t stop.

Then his face softened into something impossibly warm.

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked quietly.

The sudden sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten.

“Steve.”

He swallowed hard. “I know we said someday, but I didn’t think someday would happen this fast and I just— I need you to know if you’re scared, or overwhelmed, or if you wanna wait to be excited, that’s okay.”

You looked at him for a long moment.

Then took his hand and placed it against your stomach.

His breath caught immediately.

“I’m terrified,” you admitted.

Steve nodded once.

“But I’m also really happy.”

The softest smile spread across his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve looked seconds away from combusting from joy.

Then suddenly his eyes widened.

“Oh my God.”

“What now?”

“We’re gonna have a baby.”

“Yes, babe, we covered that.”

“A tiny little baby.”

“Still tracking.”

“What if it has your nose?”

“What if it has your inability to use a smartphone?”

Steve gasped in mock offense.

And then, before you could react, he scooped you up effortlessly.

“STEVE!”

“We’re celebrating!”

“You can’t just carry me everywhere now!”

“The mother of my child?” Steve declared dramatically while carrying you toward the kitchen. “Absolutely I can.”

“You’re insane.”

“You married me.”

“That feels legally questionable suddenly.”

Steve grinned so wide it looked painful.

Then he kissed you one more time, smiling against your mouth.

And somewhere between the laughter, the happy tears, and Steve immediately trying to Google “how small is a blueberry compared to a fetus,” it hit both of you at once.