fateandfortune | The Sweet Gestures Meme

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The Sweet Gestures Meme

the sweet gestures meme

Everyone loves sweet gestures—little things that remind someone that you love them, that you think of them, that you care for their general, and other things. A gesture could be made towards a friend, a family member, or some other loved one. Maybe towards a total stranger you think deserves something to make them smile.

prompts

1. LOVE NOTES ❤ Everyone loves love notes, and they don’t even have to be romantic. It could be simple as ‘have a good day at work’ or even something funny to brighten someone’s day.

2. BREAKFAST IN BED ❤ Especially on a Sunday morning or after a long, late shift at work, breakfast in bed with their favorite foods is surely the way to start the day off right.

3. PHONE CALL ❤ Who doesn’t like a phone call from someone they love, for no reason? A nice conversation can be all someone needs to have a better day or make a good day be a great one.

4. SWEET TREAT ❤ Late at night when you’re both tired from work or just general day-to-day things, something sweet from the local bakery can be just the thing you need.

5. MASSAGE ❤ While a wonderful idea, swapping massages can be a good idea too, or doing it after a nice bubble bath you made for them, or just randomly.

6. RANDOM HUG ❤ Even if they are not having a bad day, how could a hug not bring a smile to someone’s face?

7. SMALL GIFT ❤ It could be a piece of jewelry that caught your eye and reminded you of them, a stuffed animal you won at the carnival… just something small and sweet that you are sure they are going to love no matter how cheap or expensive it is.

8. FLOWERS ❤ From a florist or from a random patch of green, the surprise of flowers for someone you know and/or love is always welcomed! Look into their meanings to make the bouquet, big or small, become extra special.

9. RENT A MOVIE ❤ Sure, you might not like the genre of the movie, but if the other person does, then that is all that matters.

10. SLOW DANCE ❤ Middle of the living room, randomly while on a date, or maybe that is the whole purpose of the date. Slow dances are so underrated.

11. SURPRISE GETAWAY ❤ Yes, that is just what you guys need: a vacation from things, even if it’s just for a day or two and is not half way across the world. From a family vacation to a romantic spur of the moment, everyone loves going to a new place.

12. SURPRISE KISS ❤ Who doesn’t like a surprise kiss? A soft one on the cheek, a kiss being the thing to wake you up in the morning, or a big one right when you walk through the door.

13. HOLD HANDS ❤ There is nothing like holding hands. It’s a simple and intimate gesture, and if you do it the right way, it could have a whole different meaning.

14. COOK DINNER ❤ Come on, give it a go. Who cares if you’re not the best cook in the world or possibly the worst? It’s the thought that counts.

15. WILD CARD ❤ Was there something missed? Did you have another scene in mind? Want to roll again?

POSTED BY luuupin @ allmymemes

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was an automatic and immediate reaction to curl up beside Steve, slipping her right arm over his torso to hold on to him like a giant teddy bear. Her cheek was pressed against his warm skin and as her muscles began to completely relax, exhaustion crept in quickly.

"Happy birthday, Steve," she murmured, followed a mere second later by a big jaw-cracking yawn. She wasn't going to make it more than two minutes at this rate.

Steve reached down to cover her arm with his hand, not holding, but a loose embrace, stroking her skin for a moment as he bent his head to press a kiss to her hairline. "Thank you," he whispered, almost breathing the words out. He didn't just mean for her happy birthday wish, but for the entire day, and for staying with him, and─ just everything.

Yawning a little himself, Steve shifted slightly against the bed, knocking his head back some against the soft pillow, trying to get it to flatten a little bit. He hadn't found a pillow yet that was very comfortable, all of them fluffy and soft and not at all what he was used to. But he made due, and having Rogue wrapped around him actually helped him relax, and the last thing he knew was the feeling of Rogue, in his soft t-shirt, breathing gently against him...

Until...

He'd already released the other prisoners, and now was headed further into the bowels of the Hydra facility, searching for the isolation ward, where he'd been told Bucky was being held. Under the blaring alarms, he could hear gunfire starting up, and loud booms of concussion blasts, probably from larger, Hydra-engineered weaponry.

Spotting Zola leaving a doorway, the two stared at each other, in a transfixed tableau, before Zola turned tail and began running. Steve took chase... but coming to the door the little man had exited, he slowed, remembering what he'd originally come here to do, and curiosity getting the better of him.

Moving into the room, Steve glanced around at what appeared to be a scientist's office space. It looked surprisingly like Howard's workshop on base, with papers scattered everywhere, bits and pieces of different equipment in various stages of construction. He found a case of neatly arranged cartridges, that glowed a strange blue, and plucked one out, tucking it into a pocket to take back to base with him. Maybe Howard could figure out how those strange blue weapons worked, and how to combat them.

Another sound began to make itself known under the distant gunfire and constantly blaring alarms. Repetitive, with enough changes he could tell it was a voice. Steve knew that voice, and he moved toward the small doorway in the office to see who it was.

This doesn't feel right, a part of him thought. It was drowned out by the sudden knowledge that he'd found Bucky; he could rescue him, and get them back to safety.

The room was large, undecorated concrete; there was a steel tray with various medical instruments on it, including empty syringes and bloodied gauze, but Steve only peripherally noticed, moving toward the table where a figure was strapped down, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

Steve became more apprehensive, wanting to turn back, not wanting to see this. This isn't right! But his body didn't listen, walking forward cautiously until he was standing over the figure and could hear the words being spoken.

Wearing a battered and torn S.S.R. shirt and brown uniform skirt, Rogue lay strapped to the table, staring up toward the ceiling unseeing, repeating, "Em...four-eight...two-seven. Em-four...eight-two-seven..."

Steve twitched a few times in his sleep, a soft, high-pitched whine starting at the back of his throat, but not making it past his clenched teeth.

It surprised Rogue how easy it was for her to fall asleep next to Steve, let alone stay that way for very long. It had been a long time since she'd known what it was like to have someone beside her like that, and she could only assume that it was because of the trust she felt for him that she was able to let her guard down so thoroughly.

Still, she was working with the instincts of someone who'd lived through a war, and at the first sign of trouble she was awake, her eyes open as she listened for whatever it was. One of those twitches was what she felt first, and then she heard that soft whine and she knew.

Sitting up a little, she stayed mostly where she was, still touching Steve so her movements wouldn't jar him out of whatever nightmare he was caught in. "Steve," she called quietly, hoping to ease him out of the dream so he wouldn't be so disoriented when he woke. "Steve, sugar, you're dreaming. You need to wake up."

Frozen in horror, Steve stared at Rogue on the table for an unknown time, his mind unable to process what was happening. It was Bucky, it was supposed to be Bucky there, not Rogue!

"Steve." His head jerked around toward the new voice, and there stood Bucky ─ not wearing his tattered army uniform like the first time this had happened, but his blue winter stealth outfit, that he'd died in.

Spurred into action at the turn of events, Steve rushed over to Rogue's arms, trying to undo the restraints. He tugged and yanked at them, but they held fast. "Help me!" he shouted at his best friend.

"You knew this was gonna happen," Bucky said impassively, wandering over to stand beside Steve, but not reaching out to Rogue to help.

"No─I─didn't!" Steve grunted. Rogue had stopped speaking, and now her eyes were following Steve's face as he moved, her expression still vacant. "The war's over! This isn't happening!"

Bucky sighed softly. "Steve. You're dreaming." The words were so unexpected, Steve stopped his frantic movements and glanced up at his friend in confusion. Bucky looked at him with pity, and compassion; an expression Steve had seen frequently, but that Bucky had always been quick to hide when he realized Steve was looking. "You need to wake up."

And Steve did. With a quick, violent inhale, Steve was thrust back to consciousness. He lay still for a moment, waiting for his racing heart to settle down, cataloguing everything he could hear, feel, smell. He was in his room; he remembered going to bed with Rogue, the first time they'd actually slept together, after an amazing day with each other. He was laying in bed, and he could feel Rogue beside him.

Finally opening his eyes, he looked over beside him, where Rogue was already awake.

Steve's pulse was racing under her hand, she could feel that frantic beat beneath his skin, but she waited until he opened his eyes to move further. Leaning just a little closer, she smoothed her hand up his chest to gently cup his jaw, rubbing her thumb along the skin there. Having someone touch her after a nightmare had always helped to ground her - perhaps it would do the same for him.

"You're awake now," she assured him in that same quiet voice. "Whatever it was you saw, that's not where you are. You're here with me." Memories or full-on nightmares, it didn't matter; whatever he'd just experienced had been incredibly real to him or he wouldn't have been so affected by it. She couldn't say it hadn't been real, because it might have been at one point, and she couldn't begin to assume she knew what he was going through. All she could do was try to help him however she could.

If it had been any other moment, or waking up from any other nightmare, Steve would've turned toward Rogue for comfort. Even with the images in his head, he did want comfort from her. But as she moved, he caught a glimpse of her shirt ─ his shirt, the same one she'd been wearing in the dream ─ and the feeling of terror and panic washed over him again.

Gasping, he sat up, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he was able to get out, even as he pushed the sheet off to get out of bed. "I─" He didn't even finish the sentence, rolling out of bed and striding quickly out into the hall, before turning into the bathroom.

Flipping the light on automatically, he stopped in the middle of the room, not sure what else to do. He could feel his nerves singing under his skin, telling him there was danger, something was wrong, he needed to be doing something, but there was nothing to do! He'd had a nightmare, that was all!

Rogue was fine. No, probably not fine, after he'd just freaked out on her and left her in bed with barely a word, but she was unharmed.

Except she wasn't really, was she? She'd been harmed. She'd been tortured, just like Bucky had been, but for much, much longer, and while he hadn't been ignoring that fact, it hadn't really sunk in what that meant. Not until his mind had supplied him with the visceral reminder of seeing that room, making him relive those moments.

And Bucky being there. That had just made it so much worse. Two people he loved, unthinkable things done to them, and he hadn't been able to protect either of them, in the end.

Slowly, moving as if he really were 92 years old, Steve moved over to the sink, and turned the cold water on. He splashed his face a few times, before raising his head to stare at his reflection.

Rogue's hand reached for him as he sat up and moved away from her, and it hung there in the empty air for a long moment after he was gone. He'd moved so quickly, running from her and whatever he'd seen, that the ache didn't settle into her heart until she heard his footsteps stop

It wasn't about her, she had to remind herself. Whatever he'd seen in his dream, it hadn't been her fault, she'd done nothing to cause him to run away from her like that. She hoped. Because there was always the possibility that, now that he'd seen her scars, he'd been haunted by visions of what might have been done to her. Was it too self-centered to think that? To assume that he might be so bothered by her past to have it affect him so, when he'd been through so many other things?

Yes, it was, and she felt awful for it.

Rogue wanted to rush after him, wrap her arms around him and keep him safe from whatever thoughts and fears were torturing him. But he didn't want her in that moment, or perhaps just didn't need her. Lord knew she could understand that - she dreaded the day he'd see her at her worst, when all she could do was hide in a corner of the room and cry herself sick because she was so lost in her own head.

The thought made her tense and she tried to shove it back down, but the damage had already been done. What was he doing with her? What was he doing with a broken shell of a woman who deserved to be locked up for everything she'd done? He deserved so much better than the likes of her, but she couldn't give him up. She loved him and she was going to be selfish just this once and fight to keep him, even if she didn't deserve him.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, she slid out of the bed as well, straightening the borrowed shirt before wandering down the hall. There was a light on in the bathroom, the door open partway - so that's where he'd gone. Her steps slowed for just a second before she kept going, her head down and her hair a curtain to block the sight of whatever he was going through in there. He'd left the bedroom for a reason and she wasn't going to intrude on his privacy.

She didn't stop until she was in the kitchen, and her hand fumbled for a moment in the darkness before finding a switch for the light over the sink. Her instinct was to make coffee, because that's what she did whenever she woke from a nightmare and couldn't bear to go back to sleep even though she was exhausted, but that wasn't going to help Steve. So tea, then. If he even had anything for tea. He probably didn't, he'd said he didn't have much. But maybe... So she started looking, moving as quietly as she could while she opened drawers and cabinets and saw just how little he really had there.

If he hadn't seen the same look before, Steve almost wouldn't recognize his own face. He looked... haunted. Which was how he felt, how he was. As soon as he thought he had a handle on things, as soon as he started moving forward, he'd get thrown back into it all, and have to relive the worst moments of his life.

He heard the quiet movements of Rogue, and used them as a way to center himself. He closed his eyes, visualizing everything: the rustle of the sheets meant she was getting out of bed. The soft padding of her footsteps ─ pausing briefly outside the bathroom door, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to be left alone, or wanted her to come in and ask if everything was alright. But she kept moving; through the living room; the soft *click* of a light-switch, and then the soft but unmistakable sound of drawers and cabinets being opened and closed.

He still felt a little like his skin was going to jitter and fall right off him, but he was calmer, now, and could at least pretend, for a little while, that he was alright. He'd have to do something with his excess energy in a while, but for now, he turned off the bathroom light and wandered out, through the living room, to the edge of the kitchen. He leaned against the fridge, instinctively crossing his arms, before realizing that probably looked more aggressive than he meant it to. He wasn't really sure what to do with his hands, as his sleep pants didn't have pockets, so he finally just grabbed the fabric where the pockets should be, letting the tactile feeling of the fabric continue to ground him.

"What're you looking for?" he asked softly, trying to put as much apology as he could into his voice, and his expression, if she happened to look at him. It was still a little difficult, seeing her in that shirt so closely after the dream, but he made himself pick out the differences. She wasn't wearing a uniform skirt; the shirt wasn't torn or ripped or stained, and seeing as how it had been made for him and not her, it didn't fit her the same as it had in the dream.

It wasn't the same. It hadn't been real. (Except somewhere, it had been.) She was here now, with him, as okay as she could be.

Rogue didn't hear him come down the hall, but she noticed when he appeared at the corner of her field of vision, just at the edge of the kitchen. Her breath hitched when he crossed his arms because it did look... But he changed his posture and she breathed a little easier.

And then he asked that question and she couldn't hear the apology, just an accusation that he hadn't made, but that someone else had a long time ago. Too many someones, always mistrusting her and worrying that the foster kid would steal something or break something and they wanted the money she brought them but not the hassle. There were good foster families out there, she knew that, but she'd never been lucky enough to end up with one of them, and instead she'd been tossed around by the people who made her feel completely worthless and unwanted.

What if Steve decided he didn't want her anymore? What if he came to the conclusion that she really wasn't the hassle and he wanted out of this beautiful thing they'd started? She couldn't fight that, couldn't hold on to him if he wanted to send her away. She would have to go back to being completely alone and she... She couldn't survive that.

All of that was shoved back down and she let her hand fall from the open cabinet door to turn to face him. "I was just seeing if you had anything for tea," she explained carefully, almost hesitantly, and with worry in her expression. "I wanted to do something to help you, but I didn't really know what." She lowered her head again and her hair fell back into her face, a waterfall of brown and white to try to help her hide from... everything. "Are you okay?"

Steve could hear a cautious note in Rogue's voice, and he could only assume it was because she'd been going through his kitchen without asking first. Hearing that she'd wanted to do something for him made Steve's shoulders drop, some of the lingering tension draining out of him. His hands relaxed, then let go of the sides of his pants, and his lip twitched in the barest of smiles - possibly all he could manage at that moment, but it was by far better than how he usually felt so soon after a nightmare.

At her question, he huffed a sigh, which turned into a small, humorless laugh. Was he okay? Physically, he was fine, his body already back to baseline normal for him, his heart beating regularly, not sweating or short of breath. Emotionally... Steve shook his head a little, before giving her a self-deprecating smile. "I am... so far from okay, honestly. But right now... I've been better. I─ I'm sorry, about earlier. I couldn't─I didn't─" he heaved another sigh. "I just needed to get my head back on straight. I shouldn't have just left like that. I'm really sorry."

He reached one hand out, unconsciously biting his lip in worry, hoping she'd take the invitation. He'd rebuffed her just a few minutes ago, and now that he was thinking clearly again, he knew that would've meant much more to her than someone else. He hoped she understood that he hadn't been rejecting her, and that she'd still be willing to be with him.

Looking up slightly when he spoke, her chest tightened at his words, almost painfully so, and she had to shake her head at his apology. He shouldn't be apologizing, he didn't need to, if only she could make him understand that she did know this part of what he was going through and she didn't blame him in the slightest for how he'd reacted.

But those words wouldn't come out, and so she did the next best thing: she went to him, bypassing that outstretched hand entirely to slip her arms around his middle and press her cheek against the smooth skin of his chest, her head tucked under his chin. "It's okay," she finally managed, though her words were tight and fragile. "I understand. You do what you to, and I'll be here."

Exhaling heavily in relief, Steve instantly wrapped his arms around her when she came to him, holding her a little more tightly than the situation strictly warranted. Hearing her tell him it was okay─ well, it really wasn't, in his mind, and he could hear that she didn't really believe it, either. But he couldn't tell her it wouldn't happen again, because for all he knew, it might.

Finally, he murmured, "It's been a long time since I've had anyone around to comfort me from a nightmare. Once I was old enough, I didn't even let my mother know, I just... dealt with them, and moved on." He wasn't going to tell her what the dream had been about, that part of the reason he'd left was because of her; he knew how self-conscious she was about the scars on her back, the visual reminder of what she'd endured, and telling her he'd dreamed about it ─ even if it hadn't been the scars themselves that had been part of the dream, she would feel like it was her fault he'd dreamed the whole thing in the first place.

In a way, it was because of her, but nothing like how she would think. He loved her, and never wanted to see her hurt, and his mind had played on that fear, putting her in the place of the only other person it could whom he'd loved unconditionally, who'd been hurt like that.

Steve pressed a lingering kiss to her head. "It's just gonna take some time for me to get used to having someone comfort me after a nightmare, that's all. But... I'm glad you'll be here. I always want you here with me."

In Rogue's mind, it was completely okay that he'd reacted as he had, that he'd gone with his instinct and done what he'd needed to in order to be able to come back to her like he had. If she'd been in his place, she might very well have done the same thing. What wasn't okay was her guilt and doubt and the fear that had clung to her when he'd left. He hadn't done anything to warrant all of that.

And his way of dealing with nightmares did sound so very familiar. She'd never let anyone help her with her own terrible dreams back at the mansion, and even Remy she'd pushed away for a good long while, preferring to be on her own so no one could see her in such a state. But then things had gotten bad, with the war and... It had been easier to give in and let Remy help her, and it really had been exactly what she needed.

"I always want to be here with you," she told him, her arms tightening just a little around him. She hoped that she always could be, that they could both get past their own troubles and be there for each other. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Steve thought about what might help him relax. What he usually did after a nightmare was get dressed, go for a run ─ a much longer run than his usual morning routine ─ and then if he still felt unsettled, he'd head to the gym. He glanced at the clock; 4:33 in the morning. Not bad for him, actually. They'd gone to sleep just before 11 last night, so he'd gotten a good 4 hours at least before the nightmare. But Rogue was probably still tired.

"Just being here with me is helping, I promise," he told her, and it was very true. Seeing her here, alive and well, standing in his kitchen like nothing had happened (because it hadn't, at least not the way his mind had conjured up for him), was an immense relief, and helped to settle his nerves faster than if he'd woken up from that particular dream alone. "I think I'll eat something, and then go for a run. Burn off some energy. Do you want anything to eat?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down her back soothingly, both for her and himself. He remembered she said she wasn't used to eating a lot, so he didn't know if her body would be hungry again yet, but he had to offer. Although... "'Cause... I don't have much. As I'm sure you've discovered by now," he added wryly.

Rogue was always tired, not that she'd admit that to Steve. Not yet. He didn't need to know about all of her issues right at the start. There was still a gnawing fear in her chest that when he learned just how broken she really was, he'd decide he didn't want to deal with it all. Maybe it wasn't fair to him, but that's just how her mind worked.

She gave him an amused smile and shook her head. "I'm fine for now," she told him with affection. "Though you're right, you really don't have much." It was something she'd fix soon, as much as she could with a small early morning shopping trip. There had to be something open in the area that would have some of the staples.

Steve laughed, making it an exaggerated scoff at her matter-of-fact statement. "Wow," he told her, loosening his arms slowly before letting her go, using it as an excuse to slide his hands along her back before turning to open the fridge. "You don't pull your punches, do you?" He pulled out one of the sandwiches he'd stored last night, and the few pieces of food left from their picnic. Perfect breakfast. And yes, he was going to eat all of it. And still probably not be entirely full.

Setting everything down at the island to eat, he stopped just before sitting down. "Oh! I do haaaaave...." he pointed toward the overhead cupboards, moving his finger slowly, trying to remember which cupboard it was in. He finally moved again to the fridge, reaching into the small half-cupboard above it and producing─ a round gold tin, with lighter gold embossing, opening it and displaying the packets inside. "Chamomile tea. Apartment warming present from Natasha." He wasn't sure what that said about either of them, that she seemed to think he needed to relax, or that her gift was so... very un-Natasha-like.

She had to smile at his comments and that laugh he gave. He was right, she didn't pull her punches, not even with the handsome man with whom she was madly in love. It wasn't like he couldn't take it, and she enjoyed keeping him a bit on his toes.

Rogue watched with interest as he retried the tin of tea from a cupboard she would have had to climb onto a chair to reach. To hear that it was a gift from Natasha was a bit unexpected, though. It didn't really fit the impression she'd had of the other woman - perhaps she'd been wrong.

"That sounds perfect," she said with a soft smile, taking the tin from him and breathing in the scent of the tea inside it. "Would you like some?" She paused, then added with a laugh, "Are you even a tea drinker?"

Rogue's laughter set Steve off, almost giggling at the absurdity of the whole thing. "I─ not really?" He laughed again. "I've never really tried? It was always coffee, when I was growing up - which I also couldn't really drink. I've had tea, sure, but it was always just black tea, or this weird herbal stuff Old Lady Tao gave me that tasted─ well, it tasted disgusting. But I'm still alive, and she swore it would make me big and healthy." He glanced down, at his obviously big and healthy body. "I guess it worked." He giggled again.

He couldn't believe, ten minutes after waking up from a nightmare, that he was laughing. Probably too much, acting a little punch-drunk from the adrenaline high, but it just felt good, to laugh and goof around and... be himself. Punk dork that he was.

She hadn't thought it was possible to fall more in love with the adorable man standing in front of her, but hearing him giggle pushed her right over the edge and she had no idea when she might stop falling. Perhaps never, with the way things seemed to be going between them. And after what he'd just been through, having a nightmare that sent him running from her, she was so thankful that he was even able to laugh at all.

"I guess it did," she said with a laugh of her own, reaching up to hook a hand around his neck to pull him down just a little so she could stand on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Well, there's a wide world of tea out there that you can try. You might not like any of it, but I can make a few things for you and see if anything strikes your fancy. It's not all disgusting Chinese herbal blends, I promise."

Oh, come on. If he was gonna get a kiss, it should be better than a little peck on the cheek! Steve wrapped his arms around Rogue's waist, bending his head so he could properly kiss her, slow and sweet. Pulling back slightly, he murmured, "I'll take your word for it," before going back to kiss her again, a little more intensely.

Lord, what this woman did to him. Steve turned a little, until he had Rogue pressed against the counter between the fridge and the sink.

He was like an addiction and she just knew she'd never be able to shake him. She didn't want to, of course; she wanted more of him, every second of every day. It wasn't healthy, some part of her warned, but she pushed it aside to better concentrate on the here and now.

A little moan escaped her as he pressed her against the counter, and she returned his kiss with hungry enthusiasm. It was something almost like instinct that had her attempting to hop up onto the counter, though it was more an awkward climb since Steve was so maddeningly close to her -but not close enough.

Well, things were certainly starting to heat up in the kitchen, Steve thought, still a little giddy from his laughing spell. He gave as good as Rogue was giving in the kiss, and when he realized what she was trying to do, Steve quickly pulled his hands back to wrap around her waist, helping to boost her up to sit on the counter. It was strange having her almost level with him while kissing, but very, very enjoyable.

Steve moved his hands down, to cup Rogue's ass briefly, before finding the hem of her sleep shirt ─ his shirt ─ and pull it up, before running his hands up her back under the material. In a small, back corner of his mind, he noted the uneven texture of her skin from her scars, but he never faltered or hesitated in touching her, barely even registering what he was feeling, besides Rogue.

Being at almost the same height as Steve gave the kisses a different kind of depth, and Rogue didn't let up even one bit as her own hands roamed along that smooth skin pulled tight over firm muscle. She couldn't get enough of him, couldn't fathom not being able to touch him.

When his hands slid up her back, she expected to flinch or have those awful tears return, but... she was just fine. More than that, it fueled the fire and she pulled Steve closer, wrapping her legs around his waist and moving her own hands to his back so she was very thoroughly wrapped around him.

Feeling Rogue pressed against him made Steve groan against her mouth, suddenly very aware of the fact that despite still wearing clothes, all the material was very lightweight and flimsy. Also, Rogue on the counter put her at the perfect position for Steve to press his erection against her womanhood.

He wanted to make love to her, right now ─ although 'make love' might be too mild a phrase for how he was feeling at the moment. Sliding one of his hands down her back again, he pushed underneath the hem of the jogging shorts she was borrowing, cupping her ass and lifting so he could keep moving his hand down, pushing the shorts down her leg as he went.

Rogue did her best to help in the effort to divest herself of the the very thin layers of clothing that stood between them getting what they wanted - Steve buried inside her. He seemed to have a pretty good handle on things though, so she slipped her hands under the edge of his lightweight sleep pants and inched them down over his hips, having to lean back just slightly to release his erection.

Finally breaking the kiss that didn't want to end, her right hand moved to wrap around his swollen member while her left moved up his side and around to the back of his shoulder. She trailed gasping kisses along his jaw and neck, scraping her teeth along that delicious skin.

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