rodrikstark's headcanons (part 1)

s. rogers + biting

steve's fingertips linger on your back when he finishes zipping up your dress. his eyes flicker up to meet yours in the mirror.

you love so much about the dress. the feel of it against your skin and where it hits you on your leg, the color of it against steve's suit and how it goes with the necklace he got you.

still, you tilt your head at what you see in the mirror, your hands sliding up from your thighs up to your stomach. you inhale, ready to let it go in a sigh, when steve bites the crook of your neck.

"hey!" you yelp, as he nibbles his way across your bare shoulder.

"whatever you're thinking, it's wrong."

"i wasn't thinking anything." steve's arms wrap tightly around your waist, your upper body flush against his solidness. "i just—"

wish tony wouldn't invite so many models to these parties, is how you would have finished your sentence, if steve hadn't nipped at your other shoulder to cut you off.

"stop, stop, stop," steve mutters, now pressing a soft kiss to each piece of skin he bit. "i swear to god i'll bite you every time you say something bad about yourself."

you laugh weakly. "everyone's gonna think that captain america's like, a kinky perv."

pulling you tighter against him, he murmurs, "with you in this dress, maybe i am." he spins you around. "i don't care what they think. in fact, i don't care what your own brain thinks either. you're beautiful."

you already feel better, especially now that you look directly into his eyes, and see the worship in them. "say it again."

he grins. "you're so fucking beautiful."

"thank you, steve."