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imaginedreamwrite · 25 days

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I’ll Get By

A/N: There are things I’m bound to get wrong about the 1940s and asylum’s, so please forgive me. There was also a lot of prejudice for people especially if they were gay, and there is a gay patient mentioned in the first chapter. If you’re uncomfortable with it please don’t read. Thank you!

Part 1: An Anomaly

1946 — St. Catherine’s Asylum

The heavy coating of stagnant rain water on the streets had nearly taken you out the moment you stepped onto the stone staircase of the building. The breath had been ripped from your lungs the moment you felt your feet slip.

You squealed in surprise and if it hadn't had been for the railing, you would have fallen on your backside. After righting yourself and fixing the starch nurse’s uniform you were deemed to wear, you unfurled your nearly broken umbrella and carried on.

You were rushing this morning, rushing into the front door of the asylum with your nurse's bag bouncing against your hip. Once you stepped through the door and shook off the umbrella twice, you had blown a curled piece of your hair out of your face.

“Close that damned thing right now!” One of the patients lingering near the door smoking—seemingly unbothered by the nurse who was supposed to be watching him—barked a demand. “Don’t you know opening an umbrella indoors is bad luck, you daft girl!”

You could have responded with ire at the man wearing faded blue pinstriped pyjamas, many other nurses had. I like other nurses, you knew he wasn’t mad, you knew he wasn’t the kind of man who lost his mind over drink or injury. He was a man who was stalwart in his sexuality and attraction to men, and for that, he was committed.

“Good morning, Mr. Samson.” You closed the umbrella and folded it up, adhering to his superstitions while offering him a small smile.

Mr. Lyle Samson was a man with streaky black hair and rather odd coloured eyes—one almost iridescent blue and the other brown—a crooked nose from it being broken, and thinly pressed lips. He was a cantankerous man, one who had grown more ire-some from the treatment he had received in the asylum. The doctors held little care for the patients, even less for men like him, and as it was, he had suffered as well at the hands of his family.

“Your lipstick is a mess, girl. Fix yourself.” He lifted the cigarette to his lips, inhaling the Camel brand smoke and exhaling from the side of his mouth. He had glanced you over, once more, before he extended his hand and clutched onto your wrist. He squeezed once then relaxed and squeezed again, a telltale signal he had used when he wanted to send a message.

“There’s someone new.” He mumbled under his breath, inching forward while staring you down with his blue and brown eyes. “A famous fella.”

“Famous?” You looked past him to the first floor nurses station, toward the nurse who was disposed to be monitoring him. “Someone famous?”

“Used to be, before the damned shit-hole government stripped him of his title.” He turned his head and spat a few inches from your feet, the aftermath of sucking back a Camel cigarette. “He’s in the men’s ward, hates the doctors.”

“Mr. Samson, smoke is over!” The haughty nurse who had been on monitoring duty for the Lyle Samson started her approach. You could hear the clack of her heels on the aged and worn wood floor, the heady stride of her feet as she rushed toward him.

You knew that atmosphere wasn’t kind to men like him, men who hadn’t wanted a traditional life that fit society’s norm’s in the 1940s. He was a man who was attracted to men, and for that, he was punished by both the authorities and his family.

“He’s fine, he was telling me about a new patient—“ you rose to his defence, vocally, and had immediately been chided by the nurse.

“He is not fine.” Her voice darkened, and her eyes narrowed explicitly toward you with a tempestuous manner. “He is finished his cigarette, and you need to head to the men’s ward.”

Your breath had hitched in your throat, your hands tightened around the handle of the umbrella. Your nails dug into the varnish of the wood, though not deep enough to leave a mark, your mind immediately racing. The men’s ward was no nurses’ top choice when doing their rounds, and there was often a lack of willing volunteers. For you to be assigned to the men’s ward, you knew it was some kind of hazing because you were the newest.

They would hand you over to the men on a silver platter, leaving you to the men, who were frequently mad and violent. While there were some who were left solely on lockdown and very rarely got to spend time in the common area, others were left to roam—within reason. You had spent time in the children’s ward, which was a close second to the least desired floor, and the least amount of time on the women’s ward.

“Me—“

“I don’t have time to argue, Nurse L/N.” She cut you off with a stern and harsh bite, directing her inability to care beyond base empathy toward you. “Now.”

Your feet carried you in a rush, moving you near the staircase that led to the men’s ward. You nearly tripped over your feet before you had even taken the first step. Your hand rest upon the wooden railing that would take you up the winding staircases. You would wander through doors that were locked every night until you got to the fourth floor, which was where the men’s ward was.

The asylum was laid out in 5 massive floors that extended through winding hallways that were dimly lit by old windows. On the main floor was the receptionist’s and the warden’s office. The doctor’s offices for the children’s and men’s ward were on the main floor, unlike on the women’s floor. The doctors themselves had no special interest in spending more time than what was necessary in those areas.

The women’s unit was on the third floor above the laundry, kitchen, medical examination and treatment rooms on the second floor. Next had come the children’s floor that was not nearly comforting enough for kids left behind or admitted. The fourth floor was dedicated to the men that were admitted and held in their own contained unit, like the children.

And then there was the fifth floor that was exclusively held and dedicated to the incurables. They were the men, women, and children who were so manic and wild, deemed impossible to fix, that they should be locked away and forgotten about. Lyle Samson was unfortunately going to be moved to the incurable’s floor after Doctor Rollins had determined his sick pleasures could not be fixed, and all attempts were feeble.

“The men’s ward…” your feet carried you slowly, every step felt as if there was an ounce of lead sewn into your flesh.

You moved through the staircases from floor to floor, starting from the main floor to the fourth. You stopped at the double set of wooden doors with frosted glass. The lettering for the men’s ward was scrawled in faux painted gold—a decorative addition to make people believe that this place wasn’t as nefarious as it actually seemed. You reached up and placed your hand upon the wood and pushed slowly, just enough to be able to slip through the door and into the ward.

The door felt heavy behind you as it shut with a bang, the force tipping you forward. All the weight of your body shifted to the front of your feet, more specifically your toes. You had nearly toppled, almost flailing entirely, until you felt a steady hand on your arm acting as a support pillar. However, you were soon to learn that it wasn’t just one hand on you but another, a large warm hand on the small of your waist that was immediately followed by a voice.

“The door always sticks,” you could only describe the voice as honey-laced whiskey, something deep and smooth but afflicted with a weariness, “you’re not the first nurse it’s nearly knocked over.”

The honey-laced whiskey voice belongs to someone you’ve never possibly imagined would be in a place like this. The man whose face was plastered across magazines—who had comic books created about him and had even starred in movies to stir the morale of the country during the war—was standing so close to you, you could see the green in his blue eyes.

His blonde hair was brushed out of his face and styled like you’d seen so many times before. There was a firmness to his jaw that allocated your attention before it was quickly drawn to the rest of him. His shoulders seemed unnaturally broad, and his chest was firm, despite the starchy grey uniforms the patients wore. You could easily detect the size of the American hero who had liberated men in Europe, and saved thousands.

The hero, who had been a beacon of light and hope, was squandered after the war. The papers called him mad with grief, a man who had seen the horrors of war and lost all sense of self. It happened after he had lost one member of the unit he led. The Howling Commandos lost Sergeant Barnes, or Bucky as he was known as, and Captain Rogers was never the same.

Although standing here now, looking at him as he held you steady after you nearly fell, you see none of the madness he was accused of. There was nothing whatsoever in his blue-green eyes to make you think he was mad enough to be here.

“Thank you…Captain Roger’s…” you spoke with hesitancy and the sound of your voice was enough to break the spell he had you under. In a moments notice, you’d been called to the nurses desk, breaking the firm yet gentle hold he had on you.

You turned your back to him and fixed your nurses cap, only recognizing his eyes on you when you felt heat starting to grow in your belly.

#I’ll Get By series #I’ll Get By #I’ll Get By Masterlist #asylum!Steve Rogers #asylum!Steve Rogers x nurse!Reader #1940s!steve rogers #1940s!Steve Rogers x nurse!Reader #Steve rogers x nurse!Reader #Steve rogers x reader fluff #Steve Rogers x reader smut #Steve rogers x reader angst #Steve rogers x reader imagines #Steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine smut #Steve rogers imagines fluff #Steve rogers imagines angst #Steve rogers imagine fluff #Steve rogers imagine angst #1940s au

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darthbloodorange · 1 year

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Captain America visits the Hospital where Steve works. Steve's colleagues tease him about his excitement, saying it rivals the kids in their ward. A slight exaggeration… but Steve would be lying if he says didn't admire the man or find him very attractive.

For the: ✦ @allcapsbingo , prompt: “AU: Hospital Setting” [N1] (Card: AC1069)

Word count: N/a - Moodboard Title: A visit from Captain America Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Warnings: Hospitals Major Tags: Hospital AU, Medical AU, Fluff, Nurse Steve Rogers, Captain America Sam Wilson, Modern Steve Rogers, Pining Steve Rogers ~ Summery: Captain America visits the Hospital where Steve works. Steve's colleagues tease him about his excitement, saying it rivals the kids in their ward. A slight exaggeration… but Steve would be lying if he says didn't admire the man or find him very attractive.

#AllCapsBingo2023 #SamSteve #Sam Wilson #Falcon #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Hospital AU #Medical AU #Fluff #Nurse Steve Rogers #Hospitals.#Captain America Sam Wilson #Modern Steve Rogers #Pining Steve Rogers #DarthBloodOrange #DBO Moodboards #Moodboards

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fangirlinsweden · 1 year

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Just One Kiss: Part 18

Part 18: Road Less Travled

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Nerves, impatience, hard words, arguments (kind of) and loaded discussions

Count: about 3200 words

Summary: You have been suspended from work and do not know what to do with yourself. Then in just a matter of hours, you find yourself on a plane to Montana to stay with people you have never met before. And as if that is not enough one of the men you are supposed to get to know is handsome enough to make your knees shake.

A/N: I do not know anything about the professions that are detailed in this story. I have googled most things I did not know and therefore there can be some inconsistency.

English is not my first language, so there will be mistakes.

And a big thank you to the amazing @dreamcatchernightsky not only for giving great support and helping me stay motivated but also for the amazing dividers for this story. You are AMAZING!

I also want to give a big thanks to @banditthewriter & @kaunis-sielu & @maw000 or their support! Thank you!

And a big thank you to my incredible Cat for being my beta reader! As well as @dreamcatchernightsky

You lay awake thinking of Steve when you heard someone opening the door in the hallway. Since Nat’s room was the closest, you figured she wanted a snack or something. She had been kind of off earlier when you had gotten in after you met Steve in the stables. Maybe she could not sleep. You put on a robe and went to the door to go down and see if she wanted to talk. When you came to the stairs you heard the front door open and close, so you walked down slowly. In the window, you saw Nat walking towards a tree. A man came out of the shadows and they stood looking at each other for a while before Nat hugged him. It must be a friend, maybe even Bucky. You yawned and looked at Steve's door. You wanted to go there and crawl down in his bed, but it would not be right, and if Nat came back... It was not how you wanted Nat to find out about Steve and you. You looked out again and Nat and the man had disappeared. Maybe Nat would come and talk to you after? Either way, it was back to bed. You cast one last look at Steve's bedroom door before going to your room.

Nat walked out into the night and heard sounds that she had all but grown up with. It was quiet, but at the same time kind of loud. The sounds of the animals, the night creatures, and the smell of, well, Montana. Nat took a deep breath and started towards the tree. Where was he? When she was just a few metres from the tree, he stepped out of the shadows. A part of her thought he was not going to come, but she should have known she could always trust him. Even now, with all they had been through, he was still there for her. “Nat,” he said and his voice still made her feel safe. “Hi,” she said, and there they stood looking at each other. Who would make the first move was not something Nat could predict, but suddenly she was in his strong, safe arms again. He still smelled the same, just as she noticed earlier that day when they had hugged. “Thank you for coming out,” Nat whispered into his shoulder. “You know I am always here for you,” Bucky answered, and let go of her slowly. They looked at each other again and Nat knew she had to say what she was thinking. “Peter thinks I have villainised Steve and that I am acting like a spoiled brat,” she got out. Bucky let out a low chuckle. “You agree?” Nat crossed her arms. Bucky swung an arm around her shoulders and together they started walking away from the trees, away from the house. “Both yes and no,” Bucky answered after a moment of silence. Nat makes a noise but doesn't say anything. “Nat, look at how you have treated Steve since your mother died. You were not the only one that was struggling. Hell, you took it out on everyone, not just Steve.” Nat stopped and looked at him. “Don’t make this about us.” She pushed off Bucky’s arm. “I am not trying to, Nat,” Bucky groaned. “I am making this about everyone in this town.” “What do you mean? I still have contact with everyone,” Nat raised an eyebrow. “You do? Really?” Bucky looked unimpressed. “I thought you only talked to Peter.” “No.” Nat started to feel small. Who was she really in contact with other than Peter? She talked to people when she visited, but not anything else. Never in-between visits. “Fuck.” She breathed out. “You just shut everyone out.” Bucky took a step back. Nat looked up at him with big eyes. “It…… it just got so hard,” Nat let out in a shaky voice. “I didn't just lose my mom and step-dad, I lost you as well.”

Bucky felt like he just got gut-punched. She lost him? No, it was the other way around. His mind went over the way things had ended and how he been feeling after. All the calls, the letters. “You never lost me!” Bucky tried keeping his emotions in control, but knew by how Nat looked at him that he did not do a good job. “You ended things with me when I said that I was going into the Army. You left and did not look back. Never answered my calls or my letters.” Nat’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted you to fight for me,” Nat yelled out. “I wanted you to come to New York for me.” Bucky shook his head. “I did fight for us. I couldn't follow you to New York. I was already in basic training when you moved.” Bucky looked away towards the house hoping nobody heard them. “Why did you not leave,” Nat demanded. “Because I needed to become something. I needed to find me,” Bucky explained and sighed. He felt so tired all of a sudden. “Why could you not do that with me in New York?” Nat looked at him again. The tears in her eyes made his chest hurt. “Because New York was your dream,” Bucky answered honestly. “It was never mine. I don’t belong in big crowded cities. I need the clean air and the freedom out here. More now than then. But this is were I belong.” He gestured around them. “But why the Army?” Nat took a deep breath. “I thought I would be good at it,” Bucky admitted. “I didn't just want to be a ranch hand. And you know what, I was really good at it. It fit like a glove. Until it didn’t anymore.” Bucky looked away from Nat. He was not ready to tell her what had happened. Maybe she knew. Maybe Steve or Peter had told her. But either way, it was not going to come out of him now. Bucky took a couple of deep breaths and tried to ground himself. Remind himself where he was and that he was safe. He looked back at Nat. “I think we got off the subject,” Bucky cleared his throat.

Nat felt like he was avoiding something, but decided to drop it for now. “We were talking about Steve and you,” Bucky continued. Nat nodded. “I think you should take this time with him and try and see him for who he really is,” Bucky said. “Try and take away the picture you have in your head.” Nat nodded. It was similar to what Peter had said. “Maybe talk to people around here and in town to see him.” “What do you mean?” Nat narrowed her eyes. “You know that people in town can’t keep anything secret and that they will tell you the truth,” Bucky smirked. “Listen to the gossip and all that and you will see.” Nat nodded. “That is kind of what Peter said, well not listening to gossip and all that,” Nat smiled. “So you are going to try?” Bucky asked. “Yes, I am,” Nat smiled again looking up at him. Something inside her kind of snapped. She realized that she wanted to kiss him. Just as she was going to take a step forward and kiss him, Bucky looked away. “Is there anything else you need to talk about?” He was putting up a wall between them, and she wanted to take a sledgehammer to it and get through to him. How could he be so different, but still the same? What had he been through? She had pushed him away and she did not want to do that anymore. Coming here and seeing him for real for the first time in years she realised something: Bucky was still the one for her. She still loved him and that explained why no relationship had worked out over the years. In her heart she had known they would never be Bucky. Nat took a hold of Bucky's hand and he looked at her. "I am so sorry for how I handled it all," Nat swallowed hard. "I should have tried putting myself in your shoes as well as actually listening to you." Bucky squeezes her hand. "It's all long ago," Bucky clears his throat. "We were just kids." "We are not kids anymore," Nat looks at him. "No," Bucky agrees. Nat takes a step forward and lifts her other hand to Bucky's face. He went still and it was almost as he was holding his breath. Nat showed what she intended to do, but Bucky just stood there. She slowly came closer and closer until she knew he would be feeling her breath on his lips. He still stood still. So she kissed him. One hand in his soft hair and the other around his neck. The taste of him was everything she remembered and more. How had she been able to live without it for so long? Bucky started to kiss her back and soonthey were making out, almost as they had when they were teenagers. She could not get enough of him, and it seemed as he felt the same. Suddenly Bucky took pushed her away.

“Damn you, Nat,” Bucky glared at her with heat in his eyes. “You can’t just come back and do this to me.” He turned around and stalked away from her. Since he never lookedback, he missed the big smile on Nat’s lips. Nat now knew what she wanted and she would not give upuntil Bucky was hers again. This was the reason she never found someone to love, because Bucky was her one. The only one. She really hoped he felt the same way. With a big smile and a mind full of hope for the future, Nat made her way back to the ranch house and up to her room.

The next morning Y/N woke up with a big smile on her lips. She had never heard Nat come back in yesterday but figured that her friend would not have been out all night. Y/N went down to the kitchen and started breakfast. It was still early but she knew that both Steve and Peter would be up and about. After putting on the coffee and starting the bacon and eggs, you made the table. The coffee was almost ready when Steve walked into the kitchen. The sight of him coming in and taking off his hat made her weak in the knees. She wanted to go over to him and jump up in his arms and kiss him. Steve must have seen something in her eyes because before she even took a step forward he shook his head ever so slightly. The door closed behind him and in walked Peter. “Good morning,” you greeted them, grateful that you had not acted on your impulse. “Breakfast is almost ready.” They greeted you back and you turned to the stove to stir the eggs. Peter and Steve washed their hands and you could hear them talking about the farm and things that needed to be done. It seemed that they had a full day ahead of them before the cattle drive guest would arrive. Hearing their voices talking about the farm made you feel relaxed and happy. The tension between Steve and Peter seemed to have become less as well. You took that as a good sign.

Steve came over to the stove and helped you put the breakfast on the table. Just as you were pouring your second cup of coffee, Nat came into the kitchen. She looked tired and you could almost feel the tension increasing in the room with every centimeter she came into it. You had set the table with a plate for her as well, even though you had not thought she would be up this early. “Good morning,” Nat said and almost looked uneasy. Steve smiled and poured coffee into her mug. “This smells amazing,” Nat smiled thankfully as she sat down at the table. “Y/N makes a mean breakfast,” Peter looked at Nat. “I know. I missed it while she has been here,” Nat looked at you. “Well, then dig in.” You made a gesture to the food on the table. Everybody did, but you. Instead, you just looked around the table feeling content. You could feel Steve's eyes on you even before you turned your head towards him. His eyes met yours and you smiled at him. Under the table, he ran a foot up and down your leg. It was like he could not keep his hands - or in this case his leg - off you. It made you feel warm inside. The breakfast was pleasant and even though there was still some tension in the air, you decided to ignore it.

When breakfast was finished, Steve stood up. "Anyone up for a ride to check some of the property fences?" You could feel Steve's eyes on you, but you did not want to seem too eager. “I still have some chores to do,” Peter looked almost smug. “I am too tired,” Nat yawned. “I also need to rest my ass for the coming week.” Steve chuckled at that. “Are you sure you still know how to ride?” Steve said teasingly and gave Nat a small nudge . “I mean, it's been years.” “Of course I am sure,” Nat smiled and pushed back at Steve. Peter looked at them and smiled. “Nat has been out riding some with me,” you said and Steve turned to you. “Well, then I am not worried,” Steve put an arm around Nat, but still kept his eyes on you. There was a sparkle in his eyes and it was so hard not to go over there and just pull everyone into a hug. “How about you, Y/N?” Peter asked. “You can go riding with Steve, as you have done most days.” You looked at Peter and felt a blush coming on. Even though you told yourself not to react. “I need to take care of the dishes,” you tried to keep the colour in your face down. “Same rules apply here, as in our apartment,” Nat said and you knew what she meant by that. “What?” Peter asked. “The one that cooks do not do the dishes and clean up after,” you said before Nat could answer. “Exactly.”” Nat nodded at you and since you wanted to go with Steve you nodded. “I would love to go with you Steve.” You looked at him and saw his smile. “I just need to go up and get ready. Give me five minutes.” “I will be waiting,” Steve smiled. Neither of them saw the looks that Nat was giving them, but Peter did.

When you came down the stairs you could hear noises that you associated with doing the dishes as well as talking. Part of you did not want to interrupt what sounded like catching up between family members, but you knew that Steve was waiting on you. As you predicted, the conversation kind of came to a stop when you walked into the kitchen. Steve turned and smiled at you. It was a smile that lit up his whole face and made you feel warm all the way from your head to your toes. “Ready to go?” he asked and you nodded. You said goodbye to Nat and Peter. Outside you put your hands in your pockets so that you would be able to resist touching Steve or holding his hand. “I want to touch you so bad,” Steve got out when you were a few steps from the house. “Same here,” you smiled at him. “I thought you were going to jump me before breakfast.” Steve looked serious, but his eyes gave him away. “If Peter had not been behind you, that was exactly what I would have done,” you laughed. “I think that would have shocked him if he had seen that,” Steve laugh. You talked all the way to the stable, then inside the stables he stopped and looked at you. His face was more serious now. “How are we going to be able to keep this quiet for a whole week?” He looked down at the ground. “How am I supposed to keep my hands away from you?” You looked around and when you did not see anyone, you took his hand and dragged him into his office. He closed the door behind him and then turned you around so that you were pressed between him and the door. “I know, I have been wondering the same.” You looked up at him. “I figured that we might have to sneak away for some alone time after we settle in for the night.” He nodded at this before he closed the gap between your lips. Your arms automatically went up around his shoulders and you hung on to him with all your might. Every kiss was addictive. It was as if you could not get enough of him.

There was a knock on the office door that made the two of you break apart. Steve went around his desk and you opened the door, to find Bucky outside. “I will just go get the horses ready,” you said to Steve after greeting Bucky. You walked out and took a couple of deep breaths. That had been close.

Nat walked to the window to look after Y/N and Steve when they left the house. “I see now what you mean about Y/N and Steve,” she nodded to where the two of them were talking and laughing. “I don’t think I have ever seen Steve smile as much as he does now,” Nat confessed. “I know,” Peter smiled. “Y/N has a positive influence on him and she clearly make him very happy”. Something in Peter's eyes made Nat narrow hers. “What have you done?” Nat wondered and Peter just smiled. “Peter,” She warned and raised an eyebrow. Peter raised his hands. “I have not done anything,” he smirked. “Yet.” “Peter,” She said again and took a step closer. “I have a plan for getting them together,” Peter still smirked and Nat turned to him. “You have?” Nat lifted an eyebrow. “How can you be sure they are not already together?” “Please,” Peter snorted. “We both know Steve and how slow he is with things. He needs to think everything through first and I am pretty sure he would not want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.” Nat nodded, that was true. She had spent a lot of time lately trying to see Steve in another light. “Tell me about your plan,” Nat leaned a bit closer.

Just One Kiss Tag List:

@marvelettesassemblenow

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@couldabeenamermaid

Everything Tag list:

@buckysmischief

@allaboutthebooz

@dreamcatchernightsky

@leosandbuckysgirl

@stumbleonmywordsywords

@dontbescaredtosingalong

If you want to be added to this series tag list or my everything tag list, please let me know.

I am sorry if I have missed someone on the tag list. Life has been crazy lately and I just gotten back to writing again

#Just One Kiss #Just One Kiss part 18 #Just One Kiss series #Steve Rogers AU #Steve Rogers x Reader #Cowboy! Steve #Steve AU #Steve #Steve Rogers #Steve x reader #Captain America AU #Marvel AU #MCU AU #Cowboy!Steve Rogers #Nurse!Reader #FangirlinSweden

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eva-knits12 · 4 months

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Sarah Anne Rogers

Trigger warning: childbirth, home birth, the Fourth of July, fluff

Summary: you and Steve welcome Sarah Anne Rogers.

It was a nice, breezy summer morning. Today is the Fourth of July, and it's also Steve's birthday. Your contractions began at three in the morning. You were laboring, with Steve behind you, rocking you, kissing your shoulder and then your temple.

Earlier that night, you and Steve had an amazing lovemaking session that lasted for an hour. You weren't looking to induce labor or anything, you were just horny as hell and Steve was helping you with that need. Every time you and Steve made love, it was even more beautiful and special. Steve then put his head on your belly, and kissed every single inch of your belly. He even put his hand to your belly, feeling Sarah move. A boyish smile lit up Steve's face. This was also intimate and romantic and fluffy at the same time.

"STEVE!" you screamed.

"Is it time?" asked Steve. Steve jolted awake. He helped you lie in bed comfortably while he called Bucky and Natasha.

"Yes!" you scream as the first contraction washes over you.

Steve immediately called Bucky and Natasha. They came and got James, your three-year-old son. Luckily, James was now fully potty trained, so you didn't have to worry about PullUps or diapers. James had only two accidents-one when he was still training, the other because you and him didn't make it to the toilet in time, and he had it outside, he just let go because he just couldn't hold it anymore-and they were still rare with James. James was easy to potty train.

Steve then called the doctor and the midwife. They were over sooner than you both expected. He made some coffee for them, and made sure they had something to eat while they were here.

The nurse, doctor, and midwife have arrived. A fetal monitor is placed on you, keeping an eye on Sarah's heartbeat and her breathing.

Everything was set up for Sarah's home birth. Luckily, there were zero complications. James had to be born via an emergency c-section because the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, and that caused a placental abruption. You had passed out, and briefly stopped breathing because of it.

Steve was standing behind you, helping you breathe through each contraction. You were standing, so this was much better than lying in a hospital bed, and it was more comfortable. This also put less pressure on your pelvis and it put less pressure on your vagina. Steve is in his gym shorts and his tank top, and you're in you're bra and your panties.

You tried sitting backwards on a chair, but it was too uncomfortable, so the midwife suggested a standing position. Standing was much more comfortable, and even felt more natural. Your labor was progressing normally.

He was rocking with you between contractions, and saying soothing things to you. The midwife was guiding you both through this.

"That's it, hun. Keep breathing through this next one. That's it, you're doing great," says the midwife.

The doctor is keeping an eye on your dilation, and your at only six centimeters right now. Your water hasn't broken yet.

"Your water and mucus plug should be breaking soon," says the nurse, who has now gotten a hard back chair for you to hold onto when it's time to start pushing. The nurse was there to help the doctor and the midwife with the delivery, and she was making sure that your contractions were coming at a normal pace.

Right now, your standing position feels comfortable, you're not quite ready to start squatting yet. Another contraction washes over you, and this time your hear a popping sound, followed by a gush. Your mucus plug has popped and your water broke. The nurse had now removed your bra and you panties, leaving you completely naked.

You're leaning against Steve, and you have a smile on your face. Laboring at home was such a beautiful and natural thing for the both of you. Steve was still behind you, rocking you and saying soothing things to you while you were having contractions, and he was helping you through each one.

Eventually the nurse checks to see how far you're dilating, and your contractions are becoming more frequent and they are starting to come closer together. Right now, you're contractions are at five minutes apart, and you're at seven and a half centimeters.

"Steve," you say, after a contraction has finished washing over you.

"Yes, doll," says Steve, kissing your shoulder.

"I'm glad we chose a home birth for Sarah," you say.

Another contraction hits, and you scream, and Steve rocks you, while telling you to keep breathing.

"You're doing great, doll, it won't be too much longer," says Steve.

After a while, the nurse checks your dilation. You're now at ten centimeters, and your contractions are now at two minutes apart. You're ready to push.

The nurse, and Steve help you get into a squatting position. The midwife is in front of you, keeping an eye on things, and will be watching you while you deliver. The doctor is holding a light to your vagina, so she can see the baby more clearly. The squatting position will put less pressure on your pelvis and on your vagina, and will put less strain on you as you deliver. You won't get as tired this way, either.

Steve is behind you, holding onto your hips as your squatting. The doctor and the nurse are on either side of you, holding onto your legs. The midwife tells you to start pushing.

You start to push. You grab onto the chair to help you, and to help your balance.

"That's it, hun. Keep pushing until the contraction stops," says the midwife. The contraction stops, and you rest for a bit until the next contraction comes. You instinctively push again.

"Keep going, (y/n)", says the doctor.

"You're doing great," says the nurse.

You stop when the contraction stops. Steve is encouraging you, rubbing your back, while you are resting. You rest until the next contraction hits, and you push again.

Eventually, you have to stop pushing for a while. Sarah's head is stuck in your vagina, and it's difficult to continue pushing. Any more pushing right now will just wear you out even more quickly.

"Okay, the baby's head is stuck in your vagina, (y/n), so the doctor will get behind you, and open up your vagina. We just need to let gravity take over for now. On the next few contractions, resist the urge to push," says the midwife.

The midwife has seen this before plenty of times, so she was now guiding you through it.

"Just breathe through the next few contractions," the midwife says.

"That's it. You're doing great, hun," says the midwife.

'Steve, I need you to switch places with me. I'm going to get behind (y/n), and pull her labia open," says the doctor. The doctor and Steve switch places, and the doctor opens up your vagina.

"Don't push," the doctor says.

"I know you want to, but we just need to let gravity do the work," says the doctor.

The nurse is helping you along, and the primal urge to push is stronger than ever right now. Eventually, Sarah's head becomes unstuck. Another contraction hits.

"Is it okay to push again?" you say, in pain.

"Yes, it's safe to start pushing again," says the nurse.

"If this happened in the hospital, a vacuum and forceps would be involved. Instead, the squatting position allowed gravity do the work for us," says the doctor.

You push again when the next contraction hits, this time it's not difficult. On this push, Sarah's head is delivered.

"I can see the head, so Sarah's crowning," says the midwife.

You deliver Sarah's head, and the nurse clears her airway. You push again, and this time, Sarah is delivered. The midwife catches Sarah.

Sarah Anne Rogers is born on July 4 at 4:45 p.m.

Sarah is then handed to you. You place Sarah on your chest, with the umbilical cord still attached. She's all wet, covered in blood and baby goo.

"Hi, Sarah. Happy birthday, my beautiful, sweet girl," you say. Sarah is crying, and it's the best. You and Sarah can bond right away. You're holding Sarah on your chest, telling Sarah that you're glad that she's finally here.

You and Steve kiss lovingly. Steve was amazed at the little goo covered human being resting on your chest. He was amazed at how strong your were.

"We did it, Steve," you say, kissing him lovingly again. "Happy birthday, Captain Handsome," you say.

Steve and Sarah share a birthday. It felt as if everything was now even more complete. Sarah definitely brought a lot more love to the Rogers household.

Eventually, the umbilical cord is ready to be cut. The nurse ties off the cord, and Steve cuts it. Steve felt that even this was a beautiful thing-cutting the umbilical cord that fed Sarah and even helped her breathe when she was still inside you.

After a while, you deliver the placenta, in the same position as you were before. It really wasn't too bad a process, the placenta slid out of you easily.

Steve was holding Sarah, her very tiny hand was around his pinky.

"Hi, Sarah. Mommy and Daddy are so happy that you're here. You're my favorite birthday present, you really are," says Steve.

Sarah is weighed, Apgared, and measured. The doctor and nurse clean her, and Steve puts a diaper on her. Sarah screams, and keeps screaming, even when she's brought back to you. You instinctively know what Sarah needs, and you hold your breast to Sarah. She takes it, and she starts to suck. You keep her like this for a while, Sarah sucking on your large, milk filled breast. Your nipples are hard and dark, but Sarah sucking on your large, sore, milk filled breast is easing the pain, and the hardness starts to soften a bit. Steve draws a picture of you breast feeding Sarah, naked.

You burp Sarah, and then repeat with the other side. It feels even more natural, breast feeding Sarah in both of your purest states. Steve helps you in the shower, with the nurse helping Steve lay out your pajamas, and even helps the doctor examine Sarah again to make sure that she's doing okay.

The doctor, nurse and midwife stay to make sure that you are doing okay. Steve helps you in the shower, and he showers with you. It feels nice, romantic, and intimate at the same time.

Steve told you how beautiful you were, and how even more more amazing and strong you were for delivering Sarah at home. Your tired, and you yawn. Steve picks you up, and carries you to bed. The doctor turned down the bed, and even put a teddy bear saying "I'm a big brother," in James' room. You and Steve both fall asleep.

The next morning, Bucky and Natasha arrive with James. James immediately goes to his room, and sees the bear. He grabs it, and then goes to Sarah's nursery, and sees Sarah, peacefully sleeping in her crib. He shows it to Steve, and he shows it Bucky and Natasha.

James sits with a pillow on his lap. James holds his new sibling, and he says that Sarah is the most beautiful baby he's ever seen.

"Mama, Sarah is the most bootiful baby I've ever seen," says James.

You tear up this. James meant it, too. You couldn't wait for later.

Later that day, you and Steve have a cookout. It's late, but that was okay. Everyone got to meet Sarah.

'What a fine princess," says Thor.

"Okay, why is Sarah crying like this? Does she not like me?" says Tony.

"Oh, I think she needs a change," you say.

"Stay here, doll. I'll change Sarah," says Steve.

Steve is changing Sarah, and Sarah is grabbing Steve's hands when they get close enough. Steve is busy tickling Sarah and blowing raspberries on her tummy.

Steve and Sarah come back, with Sarah sleeping peacefully on his shoulder.

Bruce asks if the home birth was complicated. You explained that it wasn't.

"It really wasn't difficult, Bruce. I was able to stand and breathe through my contractions pretty easily. In fact, a home birth is much safer than a hospital birth," you explain.

"There's no drugs involved, so you can labor at home safely and comfortably," you say.

"Sarah's head got stuck in my vagina at one point, but it was a situation where gravity worked much better than a forceps and a vacuum," you say.

"Ouch!" says Natasha.

"It wasn't too bad, Natasha. Gravity was everyone's best friend in that case," you explain.

"Sarah's head became unstuck when I stopped pushing for a while. I just breathed through the contractions," you explain. If you continued pushing, you would only tire yourself out.

Nathan and Morgan were playing with James. James runs up to you, and he tells you that he needs to go potty and that he needs to use it bad. You take him to the bathroom, and lift up the toilet seat. James pulls his pants down, grabs himself, and pees into the potty. James pees for a few minutes, and then you give him some toilet paper. He wipes himself, flushes the toilet, and then washes his hands. You then pee yourself, and James sits in the bathroom with you.

"Good job, James," you say.

"Yay! I did it! I peed in the potty!" says James.

James then returns to Morgan and Nathan. Clint is busy cooking the burgers and the hot dogs. Pepper and Wanda have laid out the toppings and the condiments and the sides.

This is the first time in a while that you and Steve have had company over. The last time was before Sarah was even born, and even then, everyone left earlier than planned because you were worn out from being pregnant at that point.

At some point, Sarah screams, and you know that cry. That was the hungry cry, and you pull up your shirt, pull down your bra, and start to breast feed Sarah. Everyone watches you breast feed Sarah. James watches this in amazement. Nathan and Morgan watch, their eyes filled with curiosity and amazement.

"Wait, that's how she eats, mama?" asks James.

"Yes, James. Sarah is drinking milk directly from Mama," says Steve.

"Do all babies eat that way?" asks a curious Nathan.

"Not all babies eat this way, Nathan. Many mommies feed their babies this way, but not all mommies do. Some mommies feed their babies from a bottle, but many mommies feed their babies the way I'm feeding Sarah," you explain.

"James, I used to feed you this way," you explain.

Sarah is still drinking milk from your breast, and the kids are amazed by how Sarah is being fed. You burp Sarah, and you repeat with the other side. When Sarah is done, Steve gets a burp rag.

"Here, doll. I'll burp her, and get her settled down," said Steve.

Steve burps Sarah, and then gets her settled on his shoulder. Just as Sarah is starting to sleep, she spits up some milk.

"You okay, Sarah? you ask, seeing the milk spit up on Steve.

"I think someone is either too full, or didn't have something that agreed with her," says Steve.

The cake is cut, and the spit up incident was just that, something that happened because there was something in your milk that didn't agree with Sarah. It wasn't a huge deal, in the grand scheme of things.

You all have the cake and the ice cream. James and the kids enjoy a nice slice of chocolate cake with some vanilla ice cream on the side. James gives Steve his present, which is a photo of James' hand on your pregnant belly. It was the first time Sarah kicked, and you placed James' hand to your belly so that he could feel Sarah kick. You remember that it was James' third birthday when you felt Sarah kick.

Steve's favorite present was his newborn daughter.

"Do you want to feel the baby kick, James?" you ask. Steve had felt Sarah kick a few minutes earlier, and when Sarah kicked again, you placed James' tiny hand on your belly so that James could feel Sarah kick. Steve took a close up photo of it, and your hand is resting near James, with your wedding and engagement rings in the photo.

The rest of the Avengers give Steve their gifts. Steve and Sarah got so much. Sarah got some stuffed animals, a cute sundress with a cute bucket hat, and she even some onesies with her daddy's shield on it.

Everyone says their goodbyes. You smile, knowing that Sarah had brought even more love to everyone. You go to sleep, and Steve kisses your cheek, and pulls your head to his chest. James passed out long ago, and went to sleep after Steve helped him brush his teeth, and Steve helped James pee.

The next morning, Steve watches you sleep, and then brings you some breakfast.

"Good morning, doll," says Steve.

"You are still the most beautiful wife and mother ever," says Steve, kissing you lovingly.

#steve rogers #home birth #labor #giving birth #the avengers #james joseph rogers #sarah anne rogers #potty training #midwife #nurse #doctor #breastfeeding

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granatkoroleva · 11 months

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝

Fandom ⊳ Marvel | Captain America Pairing ⊳ Trans!Nurse Steve Rogers x Vampire!Bucky Barnes

Word Count ⊳ 9.3k

Major Tags ⊳ Explicit Content, Alternative Universe - Vampires, Powers, Supernatural Elements, Grumpy Bucky, Shrinkyclinks, Trans!Steve, Time skips, Blood, Character Injury, Biting, Smut, Love Confessions, Bathing, Sharing a Bed, Bonding, Fluff, Polyglot Bucky, Happy Ending

Rating ⊳ E

Summary ⊳ When Bucky pressed his lips to Steve’s, he could feel the warmth and love emanating from his favorite person. He knew that Steve would always worry about him, but he also knew that he would always return to him no matter what.

Bucky’s vampiric nature may have made him powerful, but Steve’s love made him feel truly alive. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes shining with affection. “We’re meant to be, Stevie,” he whispered before disappearing into the night.

Square + Prompt ⊳

Created for @anyfandomfluffbingo Square filled: N4 - Vampire AU

Created for @anyfandomdarkbingo Square filled: B5 - “No one wants you here.”

Created for @anyfandomangstbingo Square filled: Painful wound cleaning

Authors Note ⊳

Ao3 | Masterlist | Link

#stucky #bucky barnes #anyfandomdarkbingo #steve rogers #anyfandomfluffbingo #stucky au #smutconnoisseur #steve x bucky #stevebucky #trans steve rogers #Vampire Bucky Barnes #anyfandomangstbingo #stucky fic #alternate universe #Nurse Steve Rogers #gift fic

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mylevisdontfitanymore · 2 years

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It’s just the Fat Pre-Serum Steve ask gave me an idea, wanted to see what you think of it?Nothing much, just Immobile Steve and College Boy Bucky taking a job as a nurse to help him?Rich Rogers, Sarah works and Steve spends his days in their house, is helped out of bed on a morning by her, helped to waddle to the sofa in the living room, and spends the day there eating? It happened over the course of the pandemic, he was getting there before but it just worsened it, so now that she’s going back to work she looks for someone to spend the day with him and give him whatever he’ll he needs? Bucky takes the job cause the pay’s good and he’s training to be nurse or doctor or something anyway?

Pre-serum Steve ask

I love the idea of Steve needing a nurse to help him out because he's so fat!

But I also I can't help but go off script with the idea of Bucky being brought on as his personal assistant for rich Steve Rogere and not really a nurse because I will always be a sucker for Bucky watching Steve get fatter and fatter and slowly discovering as they are around each other just how much Steve loves to stuff himself which... Bucky love it too 🥵

So, inspired by your ask, maybe Bucky is in college part-time to be a nurse but he can't pay for it and doesn't wanna take out loans so he needs a part-time job and he figures being around Steve as a personal assistant is sort of like a nursing job... more assisted living nursing but still. He gets paid WELL and can go to his classes when he needs to, hanging around Steve the rest of the time. So, of course, he took the job when it was offered to him.

Warnings for: unbeta'd, belly kink, immobility/morbid obesity, stuffing, chugging, humiliation play, consensual fat-shaming, consensual name-calling, rich and spoiled Steve lol, etc.

And, YUP, as Steve gets fatter and fatter Bucky does a little more nursing duties like helping him out of bed. Or, when he's really, really heavy, washing Steve 😳 like- imagine: Bucky sudsing up all that lovely fat blubber in the places that he can't reach, pausing to allow Steve rinse himself (doing what he can all by himself), then drying him off or at least drying all those hard to reach spots... and if Steve has recently eaten (re: always) then it's extra good. Be washed and tried that is. It makes Steve's chubby knees weak, feeling the exorbitantly soft towel over his stretched, flushed skin with the perfectly firm pressure of Bucky's hands behind it. 🤤🤤🤤 Bucky doesn't help with a ton, ton of stuff though. Just what Steve can sweet talk him into doing for him beyond the regular cooking, cleaning, and shopping Bucky already does for him.

(And apologies if that isn't extreme enough/what you had in mind with nurse-esque duties. I'm personally not one for fetishizing health issues when it comes to weight gain kink (not that you specifically are or that I am ignoring those possible issues, they can and do happen, they're just not hot to me y’know?))

On the job though, have more random thots about nurse/PA Bucky and fat, rich Steve:

The first time Bucky walks in on Steve unannounced and catches him rubbing his own bloated, overfed stomach, Bucky had been opening his mouth to ask if Steve wants him to run out and get some pepto-bismal or something to soothe his stomach ache but... the words never come out of his mouth because he looks up at Steve's face before he asks and finds him flushed and, uh, biting his lip, clearly obsessed with touching himself. His gut. It's not hurt or discomfort but enjoyment. Oh. Bucky is struck dumb by the realization. Bucky stays long enough to watch Steve dig his own hands in a little harder to his gut, making himself burp (which actually ends in a moan), and then rushes off.

Bucky has a very confusing wet dream paired then with some self-realization later that week 😳

He wants to hear Steve make sounds like that more. He wants to touch Steve's bloated, fat stomach like that. He wants to mark his body with even more stretch marks- proof that he has such little self control, having grown up with a silver spoon (that was always loaded up with food) between his lips, has made him greedy. So greedy that he will eat and eat until he's bursting at the seams. His skin struggling to keep up. He wants to cook for him like he has but he wants to cook twice as much and shove all of it down his throat, until he's begging to stop. Until he's visibly bloated, under that thick, thick layer of fat.

Steve gets stuck on his back in bed sometimes, especially after Bucky starts helping him reach his goals... i.e. helping him get larger and larger. Rounder and rounder. Fatter and fatter until he's wider around then he is tall, waddling under all of his fat as it stacks up in rolls. And when he does get stuck, Bucky really has to put his back into hauling him upright. Bucky jokes once or twice that he needs to take the time to return to his gym routine, weight lifting, so he can keep up with Steve's ballooning form rather than forcing to the Rogers' to hire even more help. Taking more than two arms to heave such a fatty up from lying on his back, his big, rotund belly crushing his lungs. Pinning him.

Rich, spoiled Steve moans the loudest when he's sitting on the couch, hands on his belly with his belly filling his lap - is gut heavy enough to drop between his thighs and force his legs apart - as he gulps down another weight gain shake. It's funny, how he can make a sound that loud when he's guzzling down more calories. More calories in that one shake than he should be having all day. Sweet and thick and- the only thing that could be worse for Steve would be if he were guzzling down pure lard that resulted in instant plumping. As is... well, those shakes pack on the pounds as fast as possible. Insulating the little bear even better, so fattened up for hibernation that Steve could survive multiple consecutive winter's without going hungry. He would be hungry though- Steve is always hungry. Again, he's greedy.

But yeah..... nothing makes Steve moan as loud as when he's on the couch, belly exploding out in front of him, with Bucky tipping the bottom of the glass farther up, encouraging him over the sound of his ragged moan, "drink up," Bucky purrs, "c'mon, there's more shake waiting for you in the blender. I bet it'll fill another two glasses at least. And all of it is going in this tank-" Bucky thumps his belly and feels his own gut swoop, aroused by how tight his gut is under the plush fat that's packed onto his otherwise small frame. He's more fat than anything else. Steve hiccups around another moan drunkenly. Bucky continues, "I know you don't care about waste, brat, but I do. And you're gonna have it all. Drink. Up. Mr. Rogers-" the dig at their professional relationship makes Steve squirm that much harder, the kinky fucker, "-God, I can't believe you, you spoiled brat. You hired someone to make you fatter-" Bucky scoots closer to Steve, slapping the side of his huge h u g e gut and adding while he watches all of his blubber jiggle in waves, "what's wrong with you? Who wants to be fat? No one. You're fucking weird." because he knows how much Steve likes the humiliation (and Bucky knows he himself likes the way his pale, freckled skin flushes red). He says it regardless of the fact that Bucky himself is right there with Steve. "Your obese already, y’know? Yet here you are, moaning and begging for more. You greedy, spoiled brat. You're gonna eat yourself right out of your clothes and then I'm gonna have to go to your tailor again. Tsk. Tsk. Guess that's the only good thing about all this-" he pretends to be disgusted with Steve as he gestures to the massive shape of him, spread out over the couch, making the cushions dent impressively "-you have the money to afford getting fat, huh? All the food you could ever dream of stuffing into your face. Sized up and sized up and sized up until you can't shop for clothes. They're all made huge. Fucking custom. All the healthcare you need to stay healthy, paying for it easy. If you have to fly, you'd have to buy two, three seats. You don't fit in just one. You're so huge. The size of two, three people, fat ass. Tsk. Tsk. You have more money than what you know to do with, figures you'd have to match it with more fat that you can even see." Steve has finished his shake and is now breathing as if he just ran, well, if he just tried to run anywhere. Bucky is so, so turned on. He can't imagine how gone for this Steve is. It much be torture with the weight of his gut piled on top of his cock. "When was the last time you saw your own toes, Mr. Rogers?" Steve moan desperately. "What about your dick? Have you even seen it in years?"

Steve is gonna pass out. Stomach stuffed painfully, fantastically with Bucky talking down to him too-? FUCK. He's gonna die on his goddamn couch.

That's all. I can't take anymore 🥵🥵🥵

#ask #belly kink #text #weight gain #stuffing #chugging #bloating #fat shaming #pre serum Steve #chubby steve #fat steve #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #nurse bucky #rich steve #mylevisdontfitanymore

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cowboyhorsegirl · 1 year

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fuck, now that i'm thinking about it i should've paired 1872!Tony with Capwolf!Steve...

#it would work so well!!! like a Steve wolf-incarnate #to protect Tony just like Sheriff Rogers used to 🥺🥺🥺🥺#and capwolf!Steve would be so loyal to Tony just like the Sheriff used to be 🥹🥹🥹🥹#plus a wolf in the West this shit writes itself!!!#1872 #1872 my beloved #capwolf #capwolf!steve #stevetony #my employer's opinions #*insert sequence of capwolf protecting Tony from some threat and Tony nursing him back to health* FUCK

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justalonelyslytherin · 2 years

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Hello, my dear 💚

I’d love to hear about 💡13, please!

Thank you so much for sending in your ask my dear friend!

Number 13 is actually the second part of a duology/series with a Nurse OC, who the team (but mostly Steve) gets introduced to by Natasha and Clint. This part would be happening around Age of Ultron.

Here’s a little fact about me too: I love to think up my own characters and insert them into the plots of existing movies. It makes me happy to see if it is able to weave in my own subplots and dynamics. So a lot of my ideas actually are just OC's thrown into the plots of movies and shows.

But back to the idea!

(Divider by @firefly-graphics)

Everything hurt. His limbs ached and his head pounded. The images of the dream or the vision - he wasn’t sure what exactly it had been - kept flashing in his mind. It was unsettling. Steve didn’t want to admit how much the experience had shaken him.

The entire team had taken a toll. They were all beaten up, both physically as well as morally. It was one thing to know of the demons that crawled in all their minds, but to forcefully be confronted with them was something different.

He knew he wasn’t the best leader at the moment. He wasn’t leading them at all. Too caught up with the pictures in his mind - he couldn’t tell what had been the vision and what was just an innocent memory of his. Clint had taken over. He was the only one that hadn’t been caught in the trap of the female Maximoff.

Where the archer had brought them Steve hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t cared about it until the quinjet started to descend into a meadow in between forests and what looked to be farmland.

There was little left of the confident heroes that had saved New York when they climbed out of the now hidden aircraft and followed Clint through woodlands and fields towards a farmhouse, the setting sun on their backs.

“A safehouse?”, one of them uttered, looking at the unfamiliar place.

“Hopefully,” Clint told them, turning his head back.

Natasha at his side didn’t look so good. She had regained some color during the flight but looked still uncharacteristically weak. It concerned Steve, like so many other things currently did. His thoughts briefly sprung to a certain young woman who he hoped had taken their advice and lay low.

Slowly they filtered into the house. One that looked surprisingly well-stocked, loved, and plentiful lived-in for a safehouse of any sort. There were toys and small trinkets littered everywhere, paintings hanging on the walls, and shoes beside the door.

There was disbelief gnawing at the back of his head. This didn’t feel like a safehouse. But if this wasn’t a safehouse, where had Clint brought them then?

The answer should be revealed all too soon. The archer had called out into the depths of the home - of that fact Steve was sure - as they had scattered in the living room. Almost immediately there was loud stomping coming from somewhere over them, then the stairs until finally, two children barged into the room.

A boy and a girl, both running toward Clint and throwing themselves into his arms. Steve couldn’t help but feel confused and wondrous. These feelings should only grow further as more footsteps followed.

Walking out from what seemed to be a dining room further down the room was a woman. A heavily pregnant one, he noted. She was smiling and talking to someone else.

“Y/N?” The two women's gazes - one a complete stranger for him and the other oh so familiar - turned to Steve.

“What happened?”, she asked, surprised and even more concerned to see the team of heroes in this place, so beat up. Rushing towards them, her gaze swept over them, assessing the wounds she could see. She made a beeline for Natasha, offering the woman support, as Clint had his hands full with the two children.

“I find it more pressing what is going on here. Where are we, who are these, and why are you here?” Tony intervened, clearly disgruntled by the many open questions. Steve could understand him, after what they had just gone through he wasn’t too keen about more secrets and open questions. At least these questions could be answered.

“This is Laura, my wife.” Clint diffused the tense situation as he put his arm around the woman before he pointed to the two children that were surrounding Natasha and Y/N. “And these Cooper and Lila. My children.”

“So we are at your home?” Tony asked.

“Yes. It’s, ugh nice to meet you.” Laura had spoken up, albeit shyly and hesitant. Only then Tony’s face softened and his shoulders dropped a smidge.

“I’d like to say the same but I must admit that I am still far too surprised right now.”

“We are really sorry to barge in like that.” Steve finally spoke up too. His eyes had been mostly trained on Y/N.

A flash of her in the old ballroom crossed his mind. She had shown up in the vision too, replacing Peggy only to vanish the moment after, leaving him behind completely alone in the room.

“That still doesn’t explain what Y/N is doing here.” Tony interrupted again, pointing across the room to the woman they called their personal emergency nurse.

“Don’t point that finger at me so accusingly Stark,” she tutted at him, turning around to face the team. Steve too looked at her, waiting for a proper answer.

“You told me to lay down low, maybe leave New York for a while until you had the Ultron situation under control. That’s what I did. Clint offered I could stay here and I took the offer.”

“You knew about them?” Softly she smiled at Steve and nodded.

“I knew the Bartons before I knew Natasha.”

“Fury helped me keep this a secret. For safety.” Clint added.

-----

Steve’s head shot up after he heard the knock on the wood.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to startle you,” Y/N mumbled apologetically as she entered the room he had been in. He had seemed to be deep in thought, staring out of the small window that faced the yard and shed.

“It’s alright.”, he told her, sitting up a little straighter and looking her up and down. The small cuts she had acquired from the fight at the Tower were almost healed.

“I know you don’t really need patch-ups, but Nat mentioned something about your shoulder. Can I take a look at it?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Too caught up looking at her, he answered way too late. “It’s…I think I dislocated it.” He peeked at said shoulder, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Mhm, that should be fixed quickly.”

He hummed softly at that and let her do. Awkwardly clearing his throat and trying to look anywhere other than her chest which was now in his direct view after she had situated herself before him.

“So how did you meet Clint and his family?”, he asked after a while. He shuddered as she was pocking at his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled before she began to speak, “I met them at work. I started out on a maternity ward and was their nurse when they had Lila. We just clicked and stayed in touch afterward. Then the maternity ward got closed and I couldn’t find work at another hospital. My dream was always to be a trauma and ER nurse. They encouraged me to follow my dream and re-skill. It’s how I ended up patching Clint up after missions and how he introduced me to Nat and well, you too.”

#sly's 100 #sly's writing #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x nurse!reader #age of ultron

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gotlostonmywayhome · 2 years

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My art for @angelicalslayer fic The Amazing Race: Heroes Edition created for the @shrunkyclunksbang

You can also check out full-sized versions here on AO3!

Please do not repost. Reblogs are appreciated! 💖🤍💙

#shrunkyclunks bang #shrunkyclunks big bang #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america steve rogers #modern bucky barnes #nurse bucky barnes #cosplay bucky barnes #digital art #my art #girl back there art

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steviesnotebook · 2 years

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Whenever someone gets sick on the team, Steve is front and center. He has every single type of medicine you could think, old and new. He has countless of home remedies and they work GREAT. You can't tell me Steve doesn't know how to take care of every kind of common flu or cold, asthma attack, allergic reaction, etc, cause he used to have all of the above.

#mother hen steve #nurse stevie #I'm imagining him running to a sick nat #with tons of tissues and cough syrup #steve rogers #marvel #mcu #captain america

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imaginedreamwrite · 22 days

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I’ll Get By

A/N: There will be things that I get wrong/may not be historically accurate, please forgive me!

Part 2: The Small Things

1946 — St. Catherine’s Asylum

The fall swept in with a whirlwind and just as soon as it had approached, it felt as if it would be overshadowed by winter. There was an overlying sense of dread for the winter to come, if the 1946 Farmer’s Almanac was right. The winter was set to be cold, with heavy snow headed for NYC and the surrounding areas.

But it wasn’t the weather that you wanted to focus your time on, or your thoughts. There was something much more important bothering you, or rather someone. The news that Lyle Samson told you about the celebrity in the asylum had made you take a pause when you first heard him say it weeks ago. And in the few moments following his whispered secret, you found out it was Steve Rogers.

Captain America himself, the hero that had saved thousands of people being in the St. Catherine’s Asylum—for the feeble-minded as it was called—was as shocking as it was mystifying. There was a countless amount of heroism that was thrown aside just as he was thrown into the cursed building.

The things he had done in the war, and likely had seen, could have driven him crazy if he actually had a weak mind and yet, it seemed as if he was anything but. Aside from the lifetime guilt that would likely plague him from the loss of his friend in the war, his mind had seemed sharp.

It was intrigue that made you search for the cause behind his place in the asylum, on your days away from the cursed building. With the very few resources you had as a woman in 1946, struggling in a Brooklyn apartment that left little to be desired, you had attempted to feed your curiosity. It wasn’t just the resources that you had lacked in, it was a lack of opportunity to talk to the man himself.

The action of the nurse who had put you on the men’s ward to begin with, had been rectified by Dr. Rollins, who had removed you from that floor. It had felt as if you were in limbo between working in the direction that the lead doctor had wanted you to go in, and being hazed as the newest nurse. Those with seniority had often sent the new nurses to the men’s wards, fully knowing that their outside contact with women was limited.

It was a prospect that was anxiety inducing for the newer staff members, as you’d heard from a few other nurses working in that ward. The men were maddened by the asylum themselves or the newest treatments that Dr. Rollins had wanted to inflict on the patients.

You’d wondered if the treatments themselves weren’t the root cause for their mental state, treatments like electroshock therapy or even lobotomies if Dr. Rollins thought the case called for it. You had never bared witness to the treatments themselves, rather you had been assigned the task of giving medicine, taking blood or delivering the patients’ meals.

As it was, you had served a single shift on the men’s ward, being you were placed on the children’s floor. There was almost something more debilitating about seeing the children, young and innocent faces locked behind their doors, that ate at your insides. Those small children, those poor innocents left behind by parents or ripped from their homes by people who thought they knew better….

You hated the children’s ward more than you hated the men’s ward. There was such a lack of genuine care by some nurses, who had likened themselves to being babysitters for those little girls and boys, rather than caretakers. For weeks, you had done your best to extend all the kindness you could afford to them, while inherently feeling sickened by their treatments.

It was near the end of October when you had finally convinced Dr. Rollin’s to place you back on the men’s floor. The request itself seemed to turn his head and garner his curiosity, since most nurses would rather avoid the men’s ward at all costs. For you, for your ability to try to sleep at night, you could not be around children when the staff didn’t care about them. Your heart broke for those children, for everyone who was left abandoned in the care of those who treated them like a problem.

The children, who were most vulnerable in the entire asylum, had been treated the worst. There was a deep deposited hurt in your heart and soul that made you incapable of being able to find rest late at night. Insomnia had afflicted you in the quiet hours of night in your Brooklyn apartment, where you would toss and turn. Your mind was an impossible thing to turn off, as you thought about the patients you had come to know.

And the ones you wanted to know.

It had taken weeks for you to be placed back on the men’s ward. When you had gotten placed back on the floor, you were determined to treat them like the patients were people and not animals. The first day back on the men’s ward had started with an opportunity for enrichment for the men, a chance for them to get out of their rooms and do something with their time.

Although the task was simple—a chance to draw or sketch with charcoal pencils and cheap sketchbook paper—it was enough to occupy them. You were assigned the task, with one of the other nurses, of looking over the men as they sat in a large, somewhat airy room.

There was nothing but chairs that had faced the front of the room with sunlight streaming through dirty thin glass panel windows. The nurse assisting you with the task was as uninterested as you had imagined, choosing to take her time writing a letter to her lover, rather than care for the patients.

“They’re sketching, they won’t do anything.” She had quipped with a disinterest when saddling you with handing out the charcoal pencils and sketchbooks. She had preoccupied herself with the pen she had twirled between her fingers, and the smoke in her other hand that was lit yet not used yet. “Go!”

The temptation to speak what was on your tongue, a curse you’d wished you’d had more bravado to speak, had died quickly. Regardless of you being a nurse during the latter years of the war, the lives you had tried to save when they came to the hospital you were assigned, you felt like she was scolding you like she would a child. There was nothing you could have said currently to her, not with these men watching the two of you, and any aggressive attempt would only unsettle them.

You silenced yourself and started passing out the charcoal pencils and sketchbooks, working your way toward the back of the large room. With each passing second, you had been aware of the eyes on you, the men who were watching you. There was a level of unease around the room, a certain amount of tension from the patients, who had very obviously been aware they were outnumbering the two of you.

And yet as you approached the back of the room, the last chair and patient to receive a sketchbook, you’d felt your heart stop. Like the first time you had seen him, Steve Rogers was undeniably captivating. His blonde hair was messily brushed out of his face, and his blue-green eyes had once again made you forget how to breathe. He was a national hero, and his placement here in the asylum seemed to be completely improper for someone like him.

After everything he had done, after everything he had given up to save lives, he was thrown in here? To be forgotten and thrown aside? It seemed like such an injustice for him, to have him give everything and be locked in here.

“Thank you,” his deep voice was husky and alluring, and there was a moment when his hand brushed against yours, “nurse L/N.”

Electricity like you’d never felt before had passed from his hand to yours, further enticing you in a manner that felt impossible. Your tongue felt as if it was swelling inside your mouth with the inability to utter a single word, and with a stark nod, you turned on your heel and walked away.

**************************************

Your tongue had betrayed you. Your tongue and brain had both left you, faltering in a moment when you could have spoken to him. And it was a regret that you had carried with you late into the afternoon. With the inability to communicate despite your desire to ask him, even if it wasn’t your place, you thought you had squandered your opportunity.

And yet, as the medications were being handed out in the afternoon, it seemed as if a second chance was given to you. The same nurse you had spent the enrichment time with—wherein you handed out art supplies, and she did nothing—had left the room to belong to Steve Rogers with a harsh huff. The door slammed heavily behind her and her heels clacked angrily against the aged floor, the wood grain in desperate need to be sanded down and stained to look fresh.

“He wants you,” the nurse in question had slammed the clipboard down upon the nurses’ desk, her ire focused solely on you, “he won’t allow anyone else to administer his medication.”

The paper attached to the clipboard was dusted with small ink stains from her pen that had dripped from the leaking tip. On the top of the rudimentary chart was his name in black boldened letters, STEVEN GRANT ROGERS, with a complete lack of the title he had earned. There were notes on his attitude for Dr. Rollins, and perhaps people outside the asylum interested in the great America hero, however nothing new was added for today.

“Why?” You had already started rising to your feet, your hands reaching for the clipboard and your fingers curling around the thin side.

The edge dug into the creases on your palm, and your eyes had swept across the aggressive scowl of the nurse before moving toward the small rolling cart beside her. The tools needed to draw blood were set upon the metal surface, as well as the small white pills that Dr. Rollins deemed necessary. Besides the medication and the tools needed to draw blood, was a simple book—something he must’ve requested.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears while you pushed the rolling cart toward the door of his room, the clipboard and rudimentary chart on top of the book. You only had to knock once to announce yourself and as you pushed the cart into the room, you closed it softly behind you.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about his room and he was given nothing the other patients did not have—a basic metal bed that seemed as if it was too small for him, an uncomfortable looking mattress, cheap sheets made from thin cotton, and the usual grey uniform.

In the corner of his room was a small selection of books, and to the left of the books were previous sketches he had done. Although most were landscapes that must have come from his recollection, many that you had not known yourself, the Empire State Building was the only monument that you had recognized. Its likeness was uncanny. So much detail had been captured by a simple charcoal pencil, it felt as if you could reach out and touch it.

You had been blindly captivated by the sketch, so much so that you hadn’t been able to address him. Not about the request to have you, and you alone, administer his medication, nor could you question why he was here. Your eyes were fixated on the sketch of the infamous NYC building, and then on every one after until the shift and creak of the bed had stirred you from your focus.

“Captain Rogers—“ you had begun to speak, reaching for the chart and setting it aside in favour of grabbing the needle. Your hand hovered above the tie for his arm and the vial for blood, as you took another pause that was triggered by him speaking over you.

“Steve,” he corrected you and switched positions, coming to sit on the edge of the bed with his left sleeve rolled up past his elbow, “they stripped that title from me.”

You were rendered silent again, only observing him as he was observing you. There was silence, but it wasn’t stagnant as you expected. There was a soft, lingering kind of tension as neither of you had really moved, and you were left to process the news he had given to you. You hadn’t heard anyone address him as the captain that he once was, however you had always thought it was by his choice. You hadn’t expected that it was involuntary, or an action that he had no control of.

“Oh.” It was a single syllable that you had let slip from your lips, one that had broken the silence before you had cleared your throat and shook your head.

The curls in your hair, deemed necessary as part of the uniform and the style that continued before and post-war, had hit your cheeks. Your lips were stained with the unwavering victory red that women had clutched to during the Second World War—which, along with heels and the starch white nurses’ dress, was part of your uniform—had become pursed.

“I’m sorry.” You relayed your emotional state through two words, and then you had mentally shaken yourself to do your job. You grabbed the tie that would go around his arm and lifted it from the metal rolling table, twisting it around your fingers before you straightened it out again.

You took two small steps toward the bed and cleared your throat, raising your head, only for his iridescent eyes to capture yours again. Warmth was instinctually present deep in your heart and soul, akin to an endearing glow from a flickering candle that lit up the surrounding room. You didn’t even have to speak before he extended his arm, and you were already leaning in, drawing the tie around his arm.

“I’m sorry if this hurts,” your voice was soft and there was a hint of a tremble hanging on to the edge as you preemptively apologized for the needle you hadn’t even used yet. You tied the knot to get a good vein, and then you reached behind you for the needle and vial, balancing them in your hands before you bent down to get a good glimpse at the vein.

“You’re nervous,” Steve’s voice had once again drawn your attention away from the needle, and his hand had reached toward you to steady your own. “You won’t hurt me, Y/N.”

Another jolt of electricity passed from his hand to yours, and back again. You were well aware of the lingering staleness that seemed to be ever present in the asylum, the smell of mustiness that seemed to be caked onto every surface possible. And it seemed to be less of an irritant in the room, or maybe there was more to focus on than the stench.

“Are you afraid of needles?” You took a slow deep breath to calm your racing heart and jumpy nerves, before you finally managed to push the tip of the needle beneath his skin into his vein. As you started to draw blood from him, he had answered your question with a very subtle shake of his head; however, there was something else on his mind.

“I know you want to ask why I’m here. Most of the nurses here have asked.” His eyes searched your face as if he were committing every feature, every single thing about you, to some corner of his mind. “They tell me I’m crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” You recoiled once you had filled the vial and pushed the cap on, standing upright and replacing it on the metal tray. “I’ve seen crazy…”

You wanted to ask why he wanted you to be the one to give him his medication. You wanted to ask why he was refusing any other nurse and yet, you hadn’t been given the chance. There was sparsely a moment for you to say anything else before the door opened with a high-pitched squeak. Steve’s green-blue eyes had drifted away from you to the presence of the person behind you, and you immediately noticed the tension in his jaw.

“Nurse L/N,” Dr. Rollin's voice had hit your ears producing a tentative shudder that had run down your spine, “nurse Hattie had mentioned you were requested.”

You could count the seconds down in your mind before you felt a hand on the small of your back as Dr. Rollins approached the bed. The feel of his fingertips against the starch white material of your nurses’ uniform provided no form of comfort or even anything akin to friendliness. The touch made you want to recoil, and the warmth from his body was almost twisted and nausea-inducing. Your heart clenched, and you understood your mind was telling you to run, to get out of this space immediately.

“You cannot turn away the other nurses who intend to help you, Mr. Rogers.” The complete lack of empathy was evident in Dr. Rollin's voice, as was the blatant choice to not address him as captain. “Nurse L/N is not always available—“

“You haven’t given me my medication yet, nurse.” Steve was blatantly ignoring the doctor, choosing not to acknowledge him at all as if Dr. Rollins was no more than a ghost.

“Medication?” You turned your head, cutting yourself free from the daze that was afflicting you. Once you were freed from the tentative hold Steve had on you, you cupped the pills in your hand and held them out to him.

“Give him the pills and leave, nurse. Mr. Rogers and I need to have a conversation.” Dr. Rollins had addressed Steve with an air of superiority as well as the attempt to hold power over him.

You placed the pills in Steve’s palm, watching him dry swallow them, and then you were sharply turned on your heel. Dr. Rollins turned you away from the bed and Steve, ushering you out of the room with a heavy hand. When the door closed behind you with more force than necessitated, you took a single look over your shoulder. You took a quick glance, and then you moved back to the nurses’ desk, sitting on the wooden chair and exhaling slowly.

Only then had you noticed the feel of something in your pocket. You slipped your hand into the pocket of your nurses’ uniform, feeling sketchbook paper. Your hand recoiled with the paper in hand, and you unfolded it slowly and carefully, your eyes taking in the image you admired so much. The Empire State Building was there laid out in charcoal pencil, perfectly captured had been slipped into your pocket without you even knowing.

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fangirlinsweden · 2 years

Text

Just One Kiss: Part 16

Part 16: Nervous

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Secrets, tension, arguments, longing, lust

Count: about 6 500 words

A/N: I do not know anything about the professions that are detailed in this story. I have googled most things I did not know and therefore there can be some inconsistency.

English is not my first language, so there will be mistakes.

And a big thank you to the amazing @dreamcatchernightsky not only for giving great support and helping me stay motivated but also for the amazing dividers for this story. You are AMAZING!

I also want to give a big thanks to @banditthewriter & @kaunis-sielu & @maw000 for their support! Thank you!

And a big thank you to my incredible Cat for being my beta reader! As well as @dreamcatchernightsky

When Steve had seen Y/N laughing and mingling with his friends - no, more like his family - that night, something had shifted in him. She belonged here. Not only in his arms, no, she belonged here with him. During the time she had been here, he had seen her fit in every aspect of his life. Every aspect. With Peter. With his horses. With his friends. And with him. A part of him thought that coming from New York she would never manage to get through a single day on the ranch, but she had. Not only had she managed, but she had aced it. A part of him was worried about the cattle drive, but he was sure she would manage that as well, without any problem. He also had to admit that after hearing her sing again, he had wanted to sit next to her and listen to her sing all night long. When he was admitting things, he also had to admit that he was jealous when Billy and Y/N had sung that duet. There had been so many feelings on her face, but then she had looked at him and all he saw was what he hoped was love for him. He was still mad at what she had found, but madder at himself than her. How could he think leaving all that in the open would go? Peter was supposed to come and get the papers for the cattle drive, but sending Y/N was not strange at all seeing as she was there to help out. If he was honest he also hoped that she had offered to get the papers to see him. Had he left the papers open and the computer on the spreadsheet to get caught? It was a question that had been spinning in his head the whole day. When he left the cookout to go to the stable and look in on the horses he had seen Peter and Y/N walking towards the house together. Laughing and having fun. He had wanted to join them, but he still had pregnant mares who could foal at any time and he would not be able to sleep without checking in on them. Then when he was finished he found Y/N on the porch and the angry he had felt towards her and the situation just disappeared. Hearing her say those things about him. How she saw him. It was like a dream. Someone he had feelings for saw him as this wonderful man, someone he wanted to be. Someone he had aspired to be. A man like the man his father had been. And she saw him like that. All these emotions came up inside him and all he could was the question he asked: “What am I supposed to do about you?” But the answer was more surprising. She wanted him to kiss her again. So he did that. He could not deny her. He wanted to get his lips on hers again and again again. When he had kissed her the first time it had been something he thought he could get out of his system. Just one kiss and then he was going to be able to forget about kissing her. But now all he could think about was being with her.

A part of you thought he would not kiss you, but he did. There was a heat and need in the kiss that made your knees weak, but strong at the same time. Being like this in Steves's arms, being kissed, felt like being home and on fire at the same time. He had pulled you as close as he could and he smelled of horses and hay, which told you that he had been at in the stable after the cookout. The taste of him was addictive and you did not think you would ever get tired of having his lips against yours. Something started vibrating between you and Steve relised you. “I am sorry,” he said and pulled up his phone from the pocket. He checked something and swore under his breath and it sounded as he also said something about a cockblock. “I am sorry,” Steve pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “I have to go, Blondie seems to decide that this was the moment to start foaling.”

“Don’t worry about it. Want any help?” you wonder. “No, not at this time,” Steve gives you a smile. “Go get some sleep instead.” He gives you another quick kiss and as he turn around to walk away, you could not keep it in. “As if I could sleep after that kiss,” you thought you muttered it, but Steve turned around looked at you. It made you blush. “Believe me you are not the only one affected,” Steve glances down and you see something that looks like an impressive bulge in his jeans. You gulp and Steve turns around and jogs to the stable. It was hard not following after him, but you were tired and did not want to be in the way in the stable. You saw someone walking from the workers barracks as well and took that as Steve would have company in the stable. Taking up your cup of tea and noting it was cold you walk into the kitchen and pour it in the drain. No more tea for you, what you needed was a cold shower to cool yourself down.

Steve was muttering all the way into the stable. He feelt bad about leaving Y/N like that on the porch, but he thought he was being honest with how she affected him at least. In the stable Steve walks directly to Blondies box and he saw how nervous she was laying down to immediately stand up again, which was not that easy beeing as pregnant as she was. Steve heard steps walking toward him and wondered if it was Y/N, but it was Bucky coming down the aisle. “Is it time?” Bucky wondered. “Within the next few hours,” Steve looked back at Blondie. “Need me to call Clint?” Bucky looked as Blondie once again layed down. “Not yet,” Steve said and lead against to box. “We just need to wait and see what happens.” “Are you worried?” Bucky looked at his best friend. “Not as much as she is,” Steve made a nod against Blondie. “It’s her first foal and it’s scary. But I think it will go all right.” “That’s good,” Bucky looked at Steve again, slightly tipping his head. “What?” Steve wondered. “Do you have lipstick or something on?” Bucky smirked and Steve whipped his lips with his hand. When he looked down there was something kind of sparkly, pink like on his hand. “Oh,” Bucky smiled and gave Steve a small push. “I take it things are going well with Y/N.” Steve cleared his throat and looked away. “Please don’t tell me you kissed someone else than Y/N,” Bucky narrows his eyes on Steve. “No,” Steve lifts his hands. “I kissed Y/N.” “Good,” Bucky smiled. “I don’t want you to mess things up.” “Believe me when I say I dont want to either,” Steve admitted. Blondie whines and the both of them turn their attention back to her. “You can go get some sleep if you want,” Steve tells Bucky when he jawns. “Are you going to go sleep?” Bucky asks Steve, who shakes his head. “Then I stay here with you.” Steve gives his best friend a smile in thanks. “I go get the cots,” Bucky says after a few minutes and walks away. Steve satys where he is, talking to Blondie. She seemed to enjoy hearing him talk to her.

You woke up the next morning eager to see Steve, but was wondering if he even came in the night before. Maybe he had stayed in the stables again since you had not heard him come in and you had not really been sleeping. Instead, you had worried about telling Nat that you liked Steve. Who were you kidding, you more than liked him. Your thoughts had also been on Steve, a lot more than worrying about Nat, if you were being honest. Yesterday had been a rollercoaster and you wanted to talk about your feelings with him. To know where you stod before Nat came, but then everything happened. You finding out about Steve paying Nat’s scholarship and how he had started his breading because of that. Steve finding you in his office and gotten angry. And then to end the night getting kissed once again on the porch. Of course, you had also been thinking of Blondie and you had been fighting yourself about going to the stables or not, but you did not want to be in the way. Steve had said he got it, but maybe if he was still in the stable this morning, you could go there and see how it was going.

After getting ready for the day, you went down in the kitchen and started the coffe and making breakfast. Peter came in after a few minutes, looking as happy as he did the day before. “Good morning, Y/N,” He smiled at you and you smiled back. “Good morning, Peter.” “We got two foals last night,” Peter smiled and started setting the table. “Or technically one last night and one this morning.” “Oh,” you looked at Peter. “That is exciting.” “Steve is still in the stable,” Peter continued. “Clint just left.” “Did Blondie have a hard delivery?” You frowned thinking of the sweet, sweet mare. “No, Ember did,” Peter seemed to have a shiver going through his body. “Steve had to call Clint.” “Oh, no.” “Don’t worry,” Peter tried reassuring you. “It all went well. Steve caught the signs early so he called Clint in time.” “That’s good,” you breathed out in relief.

When breakfast is finished you two sit down to eat, your eyes go towards the door a lot waiting for Steve to come inside. “Steve will probably not be in for breakfast,” Peter says when he see you glance towards the door for the tenth time. “He wanted to stay with Ember awhile longer to make sure everything is okay.” “He really should eat and get some rest,” you almost scolded. “He places everyone and everything else before himself,” Peter agreed. “It’s always been that way, but more so since dad died.” You looked at Peter. His bottom lip kind of trembled. “Peter, It will be all right,” you said. “After breakfast, I will go out with some food to him, and maybe I can get him to rest some.” “If he would listen to anyone it’s you,” Peter give you a small smile. You shrug, but go with it. Maybe it would make Peter feel more at ease. “What are your plans for today?” you ask Peter to change the subject. He go on telling you about the cleaning of the different guestrooms and toilets he needed to do, besides doing his normal chores. Everything needed to be ready for the cattle drive. Guest would start arriving the next day and Nat would be here later today, closer to the evening. But she would finally be here. You were looking forward to it.

After breakfast, Peter helps you make breakfast for Steve to take to the stable as well as clean the kitchen. Then he sends you on your way. Walking towards the stable you start second guessing yourself. What if Steve would be irritated that you came to him like this? Then you took a deep breath and told yourself not to project old boyfriends onto Steve. It was wrong to do so, and instead you should just see how Steve reacted. You had hard time believing that Peter would send you out like this if he did not think that Steve would appreciate it. Walking into the stable you hear Steve’s voice before you see him. He is leaning against a boxdoor looking down inside the box. You can not hear what he is saying, but the tone is southing and loving. He must have heard you come in since he turn around and looked at you. As you came closer you saw how tired he looked, but he still gave you a big smile. “Good morning Sweetheart,” He said and it made your stomach make summersaults. He called you sweetheart. You smiled back. “Good morning.” You wanted to add Handsome, but did not know if that was the right thing to do. You stop infront of him trying to decide if you should kiss him, hug him or just let him be. Steve does not seem to notice your hesitation. Instead he bends down slightly and give you a light kiss on your lips that makes your heart beat a lot faster. It was a sweet kiss that was way to short, but it made you realise that this was certainly not only something from your end. A man like Steve would never toy with someone's feelings.

“Mmm, I needed that,” Steve smiles at you and it makes you want to drop the basket in your hand and pull him closer to kiss him more. But you were there to get him to eat some and hopefully get some sleep. “You are not the only one,” you wink at him and he cuckles. “I have some breakfast for you.” you lifted the basket. “You are an angel,” he took the basket from your hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead. It made your heart flutter. “Peter helped,” you committed and Steve nodded. “Let me introduce you to the two newest members of Rogers Ranch,” Steve said and placed the basket on the cot that stood by the boxes. He took your hand and pulled you closer so you saw into Embers box. In there she had a small chestnut red foal with two front socks. He was adorable and stood eating from his mother. “Oh, Steve, He is gorgeous,” you breathed out. Ember look up at you and it was as she understood what you were saying. She looked a bit tired. “Peter said it was a hard birth.” “Yeah,” Steve rubbed a hand over his neck. “Two foals on one night was not what I had expected yesterday, but here we are. Come on.” Steve pulled you closer to him and put his arm around your shoulder and together you walked over to Blondies box. She greeted you with a neigh. “Hey girl,” you coo as you come closer and look inside the box. In there was a beautiful palomino foal. You could not see whether it was a female or a male, but as you tried standing on your toes to see, Steve chuckled. “It’s a mare,” He smiled and placed a kiss at your temple. It made you smile. But a look at him, showed that he looked even more tired now than before. “Maybe I should have made mimosas for breakfast instead of sandwiches and coffee,” you joked and Steve just smiled. “Sandwiches and coffee sound great.” “Then let’s go open that basket so you can eat it.” Steve nodded at that and together you walked over to the cot. Steve sat down before pulling you down beside him. The cot was surprisingly comfortable to sit on, because it did not look it. Steve opened the basket and took out a sandwich. He unpacked it and took a big bit. “This is really good,” He said after he had finished chewing. He continued to eat and remembered something. “You never told me the names of the foals,” you commented. Steve looked at you and smiled.

“I thought that maybe you wanted to name them.” That left you speechless. It was such a sweet gesture and once again Steve showed you that he was different than any man you had ever met. Nobody had ever trusted you with something like that. “You really trust me to name your foals?” You looked at Steve as he took another bit of the sandwich. He nodded and when he saw you still looking at him with a face that must have been filled with disbelief or wonder he showed his shoulder lightly against yours. “I trust you,” Steve smiled and nodded towards Embers box. “So what is their names?” You felt your eyes get misty and stood up. Blinking away the tears in your eyes you walked over to Embers box and looked at her and her beautiful foal. He was sleeping in the other end of the box, Ember stood looking at him with what must be pride. You tried to come up with a name and then it hit you. “Blaze,” you said out loud and turned to Steve. He was looking at you with a big smile. “Ember and Blaze,” Steve said as to test out the names. You were waiting patiently for his response. “I love it. It fits his colouring.” You nodded. It really did. And Steve telling you he liked the name made you happy. Really happy. Steve nodded towards the direction of Blondie's box, so you walked over and looked at the other sleeping foal. Her colouring reminded you of a drawing you seen in a story book when you were little. The drawing had been of Rapunzel's golden hair and the only name you could come up with was Rapunzel. “I can see that you have come up with a name,” Steve said beside you. Since you had been lost in thoughts you had not heard him come over. He stands behind you and puts his arms around you pulling your back to his front. Together you stand there looking at the sleeping foal.

“I have a name in mind, but I don’t know if it’s a name that is any good.” You wanted to be honest. “Just say it,” Steve insisted. “Rapunzel,” you mumble. “Why would I not like that name?” Steve wondered and you bit your lip. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I like it,” Steve gave you a kiss on your cheek from behind. “Rapunzel and Blaze,” Steve said the names out loud and it made you smile. He yawned and you turned around, still being in his arms, and looked up at him. The smile he gave you was a bit sleepy. “Maybe it’s time for you to go inside and get some rest,” you suggested. Steve looked over at Rapunzel. “Maybe,” Steve admitted. “But I have lots of things to do.” “Steve, you need your rest,” you insist. “And you have employees that can take care of the ranch for a few hours.” Steve looked at you, but you stood your ground. “You are cute when you get annoyed,” Steve smiled. That made you almost melt, he thought you were cute. But he needed to get some rest. You lifted an eyebrow at him and he pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Okay, I go get some rest,” He promised. “I just need to talk to Wanda.” “Thank you,” you smiled and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. Together you packed up the basket and you went back to the house. But not before threatening Steve that you would come and get him if he did not go inside and rest soon. At that, he just chuckled and walked to talk to Wanda who just came into the stable.

An hour later you sat down in the kitchen, Steve had come in and you had sent him up to bed. He had pouted that he was not a child and could take care of himself. Something you told him you knew, but that he needed to rest and take care of him seld. Then you told him that he would need all his strength and energy soon. He wiggled his eyebrows at that, but you blushed and reminded him that he was going to have 10 people coming for a cattle drive that would start in just two days. That shut him up. Your phone vibrated on the table and you picked it up. It was a message from Bucky. He had contacted a kennel a bit outside town that he knew had puppies. It was time to give Steve a puppy. It was what you had decided at the cookout. You were driving there to look at the puppies and talk to the breeder. Bucky wrote that you could drive there whenever you had the time and that you could borrow his truck. Since Steve was upstairs resting, you decided to try and go as soon as possible. You sent Bucky a text telling him to give you thirty minutes and then you went into the kitchen to see what needed to be bought since you were going out and it would be a good excuse in case Steve woke up and wondered where you were going.

Half an hour later you were standing by Bucky’s truck as he gave you directions to the breeder. He also gave you their number in case you got lost. You thanked him and hoped into his truck and drove of feeling happy and hoped Steve would sleep until you got back.

What Y/N did not know that Steve had just gotten out of the shower and he looked out the same moment as she jumped into Bucky’s truck and drove off. Since Nat was renting a car at the airport, Steve knew that Y/n was not driving to pick Nat up. So why had she just left? A small feeling of panic rose in Steve’s chest and he threw on a pair of pants and a shirt and ran out of the house. Putting on a pair of shoes, but his socks were still upstairs. Bucky turned around when he heard the door bang open at the house. “Did I just see Y/N drive away in your truck?” Steve says as he reaches Bucky. “Well, yeah. She did not want to wake you up to ask if she could borrow your truck,” Bucky explained. It wasn’t really a lie, since she did not want to wake Steve up. “So I let her borrow my truck.” “I just got out of the shower,” Steve swept a hand through his hair. “I can see that,” Bucky nodded. “Where were she going?” Steve wonderd and nodded towards the direction Y/N just have left. “I don’t really know,” Bucky shrugged. “She said something about having errands in town.” “And you never asked what or if she wanted company?” Steve frowned. “Steve, she is a grown woman,” Bucky chuckled. “I think she can manage alone.” “But she has never been alone here,” Steve tried to explain. There was a nagging inside his head. He did not like that she had driven off alone. Why did she not take Peter? Why had she not told Steve earlier in the stables she was going into town? Had something happened? “She is raised in New York,” Bucky smiled. “I think she can handle what Montana throws at her. And before you ask why she did not take Peter with her, you have him doing his choirs and cleaning the house for all the people at the cattle drive.” Steve nodded at that. It was true. He ran his hand through his hair again. “She also has all our numbers so if something happens she can call us,” Bucky continued and Steve nodded again. “Now, go and get some rest,” Bucky pointed at the house and looked surprised after Steve when he actually turned around and went back into the house again. Bucky hoped that he went back in to get some sleep. His friend looked to be dead on his feet.

A few hour later you were standing in the store looking at things for the puppy. It felt unreal. You had just decided to make sure that Steve would have a dog again yesterday evening, and now you had one that Steve would get in one and a half week. The breeder and her husband had been amazing and you had gotten the pick of the litter. Anything for Steve Rogers, her husband had said over and over again. When you wanted to pay, they had insisted that you save your money. They wanted him to have a puppy, apparently Steve had helped them a lot over the years. First when their car had broken down and then when a tree had fallen on the outhouse. And the list went on and on. The breeder said that she had tried giving Steve a puppy last time she had a litter, but he had declined. He was not ready. They agreed with Bucky and you that it was time.

Bucky had said that Steve had all the stuff left from his old dog somewhere in the house, but you wanted the puppy to have new stuff and Steve could use the old stuff as memories or when the puppy was older and not so inclined to destroy the other stuff with her sharp teeth. “Y/N,” you heard a voice behind you. As you turned around you recognized the woman as Pepper, Steve’s friend who own the restaurant he had taken you to. “Oh, hi Pepper,” You smiled and noticed she had a handsome man next to him. “Tony, this is Steves's friend Y/N, Y/N this is my husband Tony,” Pepper said, but she put some extra pronunciation behind the word friend. It made you want to sink into the floor. “Nice to meet you,” you greeted Tony and he smiled and took your hand and shook it. “Like wise,” he said. “Are you getting a dog?” He nodded towards the leases behind you. “Oh,” you looked around to see who was near. Tony looked around as well. “It’s a secret,” you whispered. Tony and Pepper moved in closer. “We are good at keeping secrets,” Pepper smiled. “I am getting Steve a puppy,” You explained and told them all the details. “That is wonderful,” Pepper smiled. “Very thoughtful of you,” Tony agreed, but the way he looked at you was almost as he was trying to read your mind or soul. After a short while he smiled and nodded, as if he like what he saw or read. Somehow it made you feel happy, and not judged. As if Steve’s friend just had decided that you were good enough for him. It might sound stupid, since it did in your own head, but it meant a lot. It felt like approval.

“What have you got so far?” Pepper beamed at you and you nodded toward the cart a little way from you. “Were are you going to hid all that?” Tony asked and you bit your lip. “That is what I have been trying to wrap my head around.” “We can take it,” Tony offered. “Just until the puppy is ready for delivery.” “Yes,” Pepper smiled and looked lovenly on her husband. “Thank you, that would be great,” you smiled. Together you decided that Tony and Pepper would house the things for the puppy at their house and then help you with the delivery of the puppy as well. The clerk in the store promised to keep it quiet as well since she had heard most of the conversation.

When you were finished with Pepper and Tony you drove to the grocery store to get some things for dinner that night. You wanted to make something special since Nat was coming. It might also be that you were feeling a bit guilty about having kissed her brother, multiple times now, without talking to her about it. Even if everything from that morning indicated that Steve wanted more than just friendship, you still needed to talk to him. If he wanted to be with you.. Well that would make you really happy. Then when you knew were you stood with Steve, you could talk to Nat. “Oh Y/N,” Mrs Bennet said beside you. “Just the person I wanted to meet.” “Hi, Mrs. Bennet,” you smiled politely, feeling a bit scared since Steve told you she was a gossip. “I don’t know if you have heard this,” Mrs. Bennet smiled. “But I am retiring in two months time and I think you should apply for the job instead.” You just looked at her with your moth open. “I mean you were so good with Billy from what I heard and Sam, I mean Dr Wilson said that he was impressed with your knowledge.” “Thank you,” You got it out before she continued talking. “And having you here around would certainly help Steve continue smiling as I saw the other day. Just think of how loverly babies the two of you will have.” Your mind was screaming at you to get away from there, but where should you go? And how can you go from there without it becoming something to gossip about. “Mrs. Bennet,” you hear Peppers voice say and smile what you hope is a grateful smile in her direction. “Don’t badger the poor girl. Let her go one with her shopping in peace.” Mrs. Bennet nodded, but before she let you go she took your hand.

“Please think of what I said,” She smiled at you and the look on her face. It made you let her hold your hand. “Steve needs you more than you know, but don’t just think of that. This town need someone like you.” She gives you a small squize before she hurries along. “Thank you,” you breath out to Pepper when you see that Mrs. Bennet is out of earshot. “You are welcome,” Pepper giggles. “Just know she means no harm.” “I know,” you nodded. “I just did not know what to say.” “As she said, think about taking the job,” Pepper smiled and says good bye. You stand there watching after her. Stay here? Start working here? It would be a dream, but was it possible? And what would Steve think about it? You looked at the clock and realised it was well past lunch and you needed to get back to the Ranch. Not that you thought that Steve was still sleeping, no if you knew him, which you thought you did by not. He would be out working.

Nat sat on the plane trying to keep her thoughts and emotions in check. She was worried about going back home. Back to the ranch. The only place besides the apartment she shared with Y/N that had ever felt like home. She had thought it would be easier to come back to the Rogers Ranch knowing that Y/N was there, but it was still hard. If she admitted it to herself she had been able to go back earlier in the week. Her meetings had been able to do digitally, but she needed the time to prepare. She knew that Bucky would be there. Working at the ranch as he had been for a while. It was no way she could keep her distance from him this time. Seeing him always made her feel hollow. He tried talking to her a few times when she was back, but she had not given him the chance. What could he have to say? He left. He gave up on their love years before and joined the army. Leaving her alone. She had headed to New York and become a successful lawyer, but still, she could not help but compare every man she had ever dated with the man she dated so many years ago. The man she thought she would end up marrying. Maybe it was time to have a talk to Bucky and leave it all behind, so she could go forward? Could she get over him? Would he have a girlfriend this time? He was a handsome man. Please don’t let her go there and he is in a relationship. How would she survive that?

Nat tried to think of something else. Y/N. That was a safe topic. Y/N sounded happier than she had in a long while when she talked to her. She sounded at ease. Nat knew that Y/n was dreaming of moving from New York and somewhere more quiet. Somewhere less stressful. And now that she was probably out of a job, she would probably do that. Right? Had she fallen in love with Montana? Would she want to move here? That was not something Nat had considered when she asked her best friend to help. What if Montana was not the only thing she had fallen in love with. What if Bucky and Y/N had fallen in love? Oh no. Nat clenched a hand to her stomach. How would she survive that?

The belt light flashed on and Nat knew that they were to descend now. Then she had the drive to the ranch. She would be there in a couple hours and then she would have to deal with whatever happened. What was it her mother had always said? “Take it one step at a time and try not to worry about what happens next.” It was a good thing to remember. Y/N could have fallen in love with Dr. Sam Wilson. He was handsome and nice. And according to Peter, still single. Yes, Y/N had probably fallen for Sam. They would be great together. With those thoughts, Nat relaxed and starting to look forward to coming to the rance and here Y/N talked about being in love. If she was not Nat would just have to make Y/N see Sam more. Because if someone deserved to be happy and in love, it was Y/N. Nat did not know where she would be without Y/N.

Nat took a couple of deep breaths as she drew to the small town. Almost home. She saw a lot of curious faces looking at the rental car. Some waved even though they did not recognize the car. Of course she waved back. She saw Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton walk hand in hand down the street, still looking like a newly weed couple, even if they must be over 80 years old and married for at least 60 years. It made her smile and her heart ache a bit. Why did it always feel like coming home driving into town like this. Nat knew that if she stoped, people she knew would stop and talk to her. As if she never left home. Whitin a few minutes she would probably hear all the latest gossip and then the gossip mill would go around saying that Nat was back in town. It made her smile. Years before when she left, that was one of the reasons she swore to never move back. The gossip and the everyone knows you, but now, it just felt safe and as something she been missing. In New York, nobody would stop her on the street to ask who she was. The only ones that stoped her were creepy men or people looking for a handout. Nat drow out of town and felt her hands get sweaty. Soon home. Soon. Just a bit more.

When she turned onto the road up to the ranch she had to stop at the side of the road to breath. Why was she so nervous? She could do this. They knew she was coming and the last thing she wanted was someone coming down the road and seing her sitting her like a coward. After a couple of deep breaths she pulled out on the road again and felt herself smile you closer she came to the ranch. As the buildings started to appear she got a sense of ease. She saw cattle and horses. And there on the porch stood Y/N. It made something in her heart give a gick tug. Y/N looked as she belonged there. There on the porch. At the ranch. The closer she got, she saw a calmness on her best friends face that she had never seen before. That was something new.

A couple of hours later, you stood on the porch when Nat's rental car drives up to the house. You had gone out with a cup of tea to calm down. The conversation with Mrs. Bennet in the grocery store was still playing in your head. She was fifteen steps ahead of you when it came to Steve and you. And you still have not talked to Steve about your feelings or his feelings. And now you needed to great Nat and pretend like everything was fine. Even if there was a relief of seeing her, you were also kind of annoyed with her. Since she had moved up her arrival day several times.

"I thought you weren't going to come," you say and cross your arms over your chest. Nat laughs and runs up to the porch and hugs you tight. You hug her back. "I am sorry it took so long," Nat says and realising you. "I needed to get things done so I can be here for the next two weeks." “Nat,” Peter almost dreams as he comes running out of the house. Nat opens his arms and Peter runs right into them. “Hey, Peter,” Nat says as she reliseas Peter and ruffs his hair. “I missed you,” Peter can’t seem to stand still. “I missed you too,” Nat smiled. It gives you a warm feeling in your body. Somehow Nat seemed to fit in here more than in New York. She seemed more calm, and she just arrived. "Hey, Nat," a voice from behind you said. You turned around and there on the porch stood Steve. He had his hat in his hand. How was this going to go? You knew that the two of them had a rocky relationship. At least according to Nat.

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randomshyperson · 9 months

Text

Best (Girl)Friends - Wanda Maximoff x Rogers!Reader

Summary: Wanda sympathizes with your willpower. 70 years on ice is a long time to wait for an intimate touch. And being the good friend that she is, Wanda offers you some help.

Warnings: (+18), some vague plot, smut with virginity loss, Rogers!Reader following all Wanda’s wishes, power bottom!Wanda, kissing, friends to lovers, mutual pining, explicit consent but Wanda being a tease and a bit possessive. | Words: 4.893k

A/-N-> I’m pretty sure this was a request, but I couldn’t find it anywhere.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

-&-

Shield acted as if they won the lottery.

In a way, it felt like that. Two Rogers siblings found on the same day would probably yield some promotions within the teams responsible, and a nice image bonus with the US government.

But while Captain America was found in a negative temperature on the other side of the planet, his sister destroyed an entire building with her sudden appearance inside a blue explosion a few hours later.

In your defense, you had no idea what was about to happen.

One minute, you were inside a Howard Stark-designed marine suit at the bottom of the ocean. But in Shield's defense, you were disobeying the orders of your director, that is, Margaret Carter on the phone, who five minutes earlier insisted that she would not risk losing another Rogers and that reaching the cube was not worth the risk to your safety, but you still put on the prototype underwater suit and dived in search of the item, which, to you, was the key to finding your brother.

You were right, in a way. Touching the cube with the determined idea that you would like to see Steve again really worked. The problem was how it happened.

The explosion was all around you, and you saw nothing but the beam of blue light that forced you to close your eyes. One moment you were deep in the sea, and the next you were in the middle of one of the Shield Secret Bases, a thousand of bricks flying around with the force of the explosion.

Your presence in the secret room of Project PEGASUS caused Shield to be on high alert, and a dozen rifles to be pointed in your face.

But it was all cleared up in no time and ended with your figure handcuffed on the seat of a government Jet on its way to New York.

Unlike Steve, you were awake. And not the least bit in the mood to follow Nick Fury's theatrical demands.

"That's to avoid shock, Miss Rogers-"

"Absolutely not, Nicholas." You cut him off impatiently, your hands-free since Shield had clarified exactly who you were. "The first thing I'm saying to my brother won't be a lie."

Nick sighed. "I understand it's a delicate situation, Miss, but Captain Rogers has been frozen for too long. An innocent fantasy is meant to lessen the shock of the truth."

You skirted Nick without caring about the speech. "There's no way to lighten news like this one. We're both in the future, for Chris’s sake! That it's absurd enough. No more lies, and let me see my brother for once. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for that."

Fury didn't have the heart to insist, not only because he had another supersoldier getting him out of the way, but because of the emotion in your voice. He waved in dismissal to any soldier more curious about your determined walk, and no one interfered as you made your way to the room where they placed your brother.

Shield had begun to create a scenario around him that made you chuckle in irony. You dismissed the agent posing as a nurse with a look, and Nick allowed you to be alone in the room, and without wasting any time, you made your way to the bed.

Steve looked the same as he did the day he disappeared, and you felt a sob break in your throat. Maybe the sound woke him up.

He opened confused eyes at you, and unlike him, you had aged a lot since the last time he had seen you when you were still a child.

"Hey, Stevie." Your greeting came hoarsely, laden with emotion. Steve took a moment to recognize you.

"Y/N?" He asked, tense and startled. You could almost see the gears of his brain working, the way he tried to recognize his surroundings as well. "God, how long have I...?"

"Longer than you can imagine, big brother. Much longer." You replied before hugging him tightly.

This must have been the last entirely friendly interaction you had with your brother, a reunion bittersweet for its peculiarities that was unable to conciliate years of differences between the two of you. Nor did the ice erase your hurt over Steve sending you away from the war when your parents passed away, or make you forget the years of training and working for Shield in search of him once you were back in Brooklyn. Nor did it change Steve's view of how he wanted to protect and keep out of trouble - which included superhero work - his younger sister who he had vowed to take care of.

But it was indeed an undeniable amusement to the rest of the team that the personalities of the Rogers siblings were so blatantly different, and it caused some apprehension every time Steve had to witness you leaving the tower in some sports car borrowed from Tony Stark while dressed in leather jackets borrowed from Natasha Romanoff.

The apex that you were entirely corrupted for all that he expected from a proper 1950s girl came in the addition of a certain angry witch to the team a while later.

Of course, the close age - if one ignores the years between the time jump and your arrival - you and Wanda had made your friendship an inevitability. But this doesn't mean that witnessing your clear crush on the new Avenger wasn't giving your older brother a headache.

Natasha thinks he deserved some credit. Considering he was a white man from the 1950s who was frozen before appearing in a new century, Steve was pretty open-minded. She was pretty sure this was due to the closet years of keeping a secret crush on his best friend, but she wouldn't be mean enough to torment Steve with that.

And besides this, you were also getting used to the new century. And with the possibility of being able to have feelings for Wanda in an open and free way, so different from the world you lived in before.

The witch, on the other hand, had the greatest of fun tormenting you as much as she could while she waited for you to be ready.

And these teases came at every opportunity Wanda could take, from summer days at the tower pool where she had an excuse to wear bikinis around you and make a complete mess of you with the "friendly cuddling" which is how she came to justify the fact that your room was hers now and that there was nothing more platonical than sleeping cuddled up to your best friend.

With each passing moment, you grew comfortable and certain in your own feelings, parallel to which you became more confident in your powers and Wanda began to feel that the tables were turning on her every time a tickle war ended with you using your super-strength to pin her to the bed or you could effortlessly carry her away from a training session or conflict.

It didn't take long for the situation to become unbearable - Wanda was sure she would combust in the next cuddling session if she felt your body against hers again without that leading to what she really wanted, so now she had to take drastic action.

Communication was always the key to everything.

"Have you ever had sex?"

Your cell phone fell hard on your face. Wanda giggled at the mirror reflection: she was on her back brushing her hair and stealing glances at your figure lying on the bed, still learning to use the current technology but definitely loving the whole thing.

Snorting in embarrassment, you pushed the electronic device down onto the mattress and massaged your sore face. "I'm beginning to think you enjoy seeing me like this."

"What do you mean?" She asks innocently, turning her attention to the ring drawer.

"Disconcerted."

Wanda chuckles mischievously, running her fingers through the options and trying to decide between the items as you stare at the ceiling. "I know you're like 100 years old, but won’t you tell me that it never happened? Not even when you became a hottie super soldier?"

You grunted in shame, covering your face with your arm. Wanda giggled again, this time putting on one of the silver rings. You were too far away to notice how her fingers were slightly trembling, giving away how she was equally affected by the conversation. But unlike you, Wanda knew how to keep it cool very well.

"Wandaaa." You grumbled, and she almost dropped the subject when you added. "No."

"No, what?"

With a sigh, you removed your arm from in front of your face but didn't risk looking at her. "Back then...I just, I didn't have the courage I guess. You know, girls were supposed to be virgins to marry, in theory. And well, I wasn't going to marry anyone because I was too busy working. And when I got into the army, the vast majority of the guys I knew started looking at me with contempt and indignation, and then came the serum I just...didn't know how to handle the attention."

Wanda spun the stool she was sitting on toward you, listening closely to your words.

You sighed shyly. "I mean I had opportunities, but I just didn't feel comfortable following them. I wanted... to be with someone who liked me. Not the super serum, you know? Most people were only talking to me because of it. They hoped to gain some kind of benefit from meeting the American Soldier. I don't know, maybe it's just me trying not to sound so... cowardly."

Wanda stood up with a sigh, and you swallowed dryly, keeping your gaze on the ceiling until her face appear in your field of vision.

"Detka, you are literally the bravest person I know." Reminded the witch, bringing a small smile to you. "And there's nothing wrong with not being ready, or waiting for the right person. Sex is intimate, it makes sense that you want it to happen with someone you like and who likes you back."

"Thank you for being understanding." You muttered, swallowing dryly when instead of returning to her previous activities, Wanda sat down on the bed next to you. With a sigh and shifting your gaze to the ceiling again, you ventured, "Have you?"

Wanda's teasing giggle brought a deep color to your face. "Have I what?"

Snorting, you retorted, "Come on, you're the one who brought this up."

Wanda pinched you gently on the belly, smiling at your complaint. “A few times, actually.'"

It made no sense at all to feel jealous of a time you didn't even know her, and that you were somehow in the past, but still, a bitter burn filled your stomach. Wanda, the telepath that she was, seemed to know exactly what you were thinking, and without caring whether it would make your heart stop or not, approached you to use your torso as her personal pillow. With two legs on which side of your hips, she stared down at you.

"But it was nothing outstanding." She began, using her fingertips to wander all the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders through your pajamas and having the best time in the world in watching every single hair of you shiver. "I kept making the same mistake in settling down for mediocre sex. No real feelings, no passion, much less love. Always end up frustrated and having to finish the job alone."

You frowned in confusion. "Alone...?" But it only took one look from Wanda for you to understand what she meant and choke, your face pink again. The younger girl giggled, leaning her elbow on you to rest her chin on her own hand and take a closer look.

"Eyes on me, baby." She asked, hoping you would overcome your own shyness to do so. When you follow her request, Wanda was ready to risk everything. "You know I love you, don't you?"

You sighed, nodding. "I love you too, Wanda." Your confession was huskier than hers, and she had to ignore the sincerity of what that really meant in order to stay focused on that afternoon's goal. "Kind of the essential thing on the best friend package, isn't it?"

Wanda chuckled, rolling her eyes.

Of course, you would make a joke to lessen the intensity of the moment, if she was nervous in all her confident glory, she could have sympathy for you, who was literally having to deal with your long-time crush practicing lying over you.

"Friends help each other, don't they? Especially best friends." She retorted, and you frowned in confusion.

"Yeah, I guess… why, did something happen?" Before your confusion could turn to worry entirely and you could finish the movement of getting up, Wanda pressed her hands on your shoulders and pushed you back on the mattress. "Hey." You chuckled puzzledly, but the laughter died into an affected sigh when Wanda simply shifted in your lap completely, in a very non-platonic way. "Right, whatever makes you comfortable." You mutter, very aware of the heat radiating from the girl's body on top of you, who just chuckled mischievously at your shyness.

"Relax, dorogoya." Wanda reasserted in a low, dangerously seductive voice. Her hands were on your shoulders still, rubbing your loose pajamas and somehow pushing them down to the limits, exposing as much skin as Wanda could manage. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to...but I also need you to tell me exactly what you wanna do and how ready for me you are."

Your throat went dry, and Wanda's dilated pupils were not helping the words to form. She bit her lip, seeming to have the best time with your clumsiness.

"I-I... god, Wanda..." You gasped and she leaned in completely until her breath was hitting your cheek.

"How about a kiss? Don't tell me you never got one?" She mocked and you had to chuckle dryly.

"You can be quite an ass, Maximoff." You murmured with your eyes closed, risking moving your hands to her thighs around your hips, the action making you both hold your breaths for a second. "I've kissed before."

"Hmm, I see." She hits back, deviating from the original path and letting her mouth tease your jaw, feeling your hands squeeze her thighs gently with every kiss across your skin. What Wanda wouldn't do to see you lose control...

"I like kissing." You confess hoarsely, mostly because she’s making you so nervous that the words are simply spilling. You kept your eyes closed and your neck stretched to give her more room to don’t stop. Aware of your words, Wanda hums again as she keeps depositing chaste kisses on your collarbone. "I like...kissing girls."

It should be a heartfelt confession, one that Wanda theoretically knew about but that you've never put into words before. But suddenly, Wanda bit down on you, hard enough for you to grunt in pain, opening your eyes. She grabs your cheeks with one hand, a hot fury in her eyes that makes you shudder.

"Rule number one, don't talk about other girls when you have one on top of you."

You open your mouth like a fish, babbling nonsense for enough time for Wanda to make a motion of leaving. But that makes you react. "I didn't mean to upset you!" You try quickly, hands moving on an instinct to hold her by the waist on top of you. Wanda has to bite her lips hard to keep from letting out a much more submissive sound than she would like when you just squeeze her firmly to keep her there. "Wanda, please forgive me! I-you caught me off guard, alright? I’m nervous… We’re friends and suddenly… you’re so close and I’m talking nonsense! Please, just… tell me what you want to hear.”

She huffs impatiently, crossing her arms and turning her face away as you sigh in defeat. Wanda wants to be annoyed, but you're so lovely when you lean your face into her, trying to ease her anger with chaste kisses on her cheeks and neck until you manage to get from her a stubborn smile. She has no choice but to uncross her arms to slide her hands up your shoulders, wrapping herself around your body again.

She feels you smile and relax completely, the kisses getting firmer on her neck until they tickle and elicit a husky giggle from her. Still, Wanda settles a hand in your hair, and the slight tug to bring your faces close together again draws a deep sigh from you.

"I don't want to hear about other girls, detka. This is your last warning." She says seriously with eyes glowing red for a moment. Wanda had hoped to have a direct effect, but to her surprise, a teasing smirk began to form on your lips.

"Wow, you're totally jealous." You accused and she grimaced, trying to pull away once more. But that only made you burst out into a teasing giggle, while your strong arms wrapped around her torso, bringing her back to you effortlessly while keeping her locked into you. Wanda was clearly aware of how shaky her legs were with the motion, and trying to walk away again would only result in her falling to the ground. "Wanda, darling, the girls I kissed must be a hundred years old by now."

Reluctantly and with a rosy tinge in her cheeks, she mutters, "Honestly, I was hoping to be your first." Her confession makes you rise your eyebrows in surprise, only to smile fondly next. Your hands moved again, caressing her back in an attempt to relax her as well.

"Hey, look at me." You call out gently, waiting for the girl's stubbornness to subside with the help of your caresses. Wanda has a stronger color on her face when she finally raises her eyes to you again. "I didn't imagine this was anything of relevance to you. But I haven't lied before, I've never been with someone intimately. If you still want to, you can be my first... everything else."

She twitches her nose softly. "You’re making it sound like it’s a favor for me. I only want to... if you do too." She retorts with a certain determination in her gaze, and though you feel your cheeks burn with the ultimatum, you nod foolishly before breaking the distance.

It catches Wanda by surprise, the sudden kiss, and you're despairing when she doesn't respond immediately, pulling away at the same speed you approached. "Sorry." You say mortified and breathless, your lips tingling. "I like you, Wan. I really do. I just thought you should know before..."

She places a finger over yours, shushing your nervous anticipation. Her free hand goes to your cheek and Wanda pulls you close again, her eyes darkening in a way that makes you shiver entirely.

"Like I said before, just relax, baby. Stop overthinking." She whispers before she firms her mouth over yours. It's a sensual, intense kiss unlike any you've ever received. Wanda seems determined to drive you to complete insanity. She kisses you unhurried, waiting for permission to slide her tongue into yours, and giving you no room to breathe properly, head spinning with those new yet so familiar needy feelings. She kisses and kisses you until you're restless beneath her, your body burning and your hands curious testing limits that she doesn’t impose, only encourages you to break. Her taste and smell intoxicate your every sense, the feel of her body molded to yours, teasing your reactions and almost making you lose control of your strength. The tight squeeze you give her when she sucks your tongue earns a whimper from her that sticks and echoes in your mind, making you dizzy with lust. When she finally breaks the kiss to breathe, her lips are swollen like yours, and her pupils are so dilated that there is no green left in them. Your face burns for the matching fire you find in her gaze.

You are unable to find any words to describe this moment, so you only stare at her, blushing over the smirk that starts to form on her lips once she catches the adoring look you’re giving her.

Licking your lips to try to gain some focus, you dare to ask: “Was it…good?” You would have added “Did you like” or “Was I enough” if Wanda didn't break into a giggle that shut you entirely, your cheeks burning. Before the shame could surface, she grabbed your cheeks again. “You’re too cute, darling.” She says, kissing you again more quickly than before. Her hands move to yours then, intertwining your fingers together to drag them on her thighs, down, and then back up, this time under her skirt. Your heart stopped, and Wanda turned her dark eyes back to yours, her voice so low you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't so close. “Don’t be shy, see for yourself how much I like kissing you.” She whispers darkly.

When she kisses you again, her hands guide you under her skirt until you're in her front. The mere contact of your fingers with the wet spot on her panties makes you groan and break the kiss, needing a moment to just take a breath and calm your nerves. Wanda doesn't wait long, releasing your hands to move hers to your shoulders, needing firm support now that you're so close to where she needs it so badly. She gasps in surprise when your hand gives a quick tug that rips her panties off at once, a wave of new wetness running down her thighs in the same second.

You don't say anything about it, just turns your face to kiss her again, the same way she did before, and somehow even dirtier and more sexual, drawing gasps with every flick of your tongue against hers.

Because Wanda's your best friend, she wants to taunt you - tease you about being better at this than you let on, but all the words fall away at once when your fingers fill her in one go. All Wanda can do is moan, choking on the kiss as she feels you slide into her with such ease.

"Fuck, detka." She moans with her eyes tightly closed, just as she pulls away to breathe. Your response is to just continue your movements, in and out of her without haste, feeling every mention of her warm walls squeezing your fingers. Wanda is burning on top of you and the sound of her drenched pleasure echoes low. You hum contentedly, nipping at her neck as she can no longer match the kiss, so close to her own climax. Your hand adjusts, increasing its reach, and when your thumb gives her clit the attention it needs, Wanda lets out an affected squeal. "W-wanna cum, baby. Please!"

You bite back a smile, surprised and impressed by the question hidden in the statement. You adjust to face her and wait for Wanda to feel the change to look at you too. The dark, lust-filled pupils leave you breathless.

"You can cum, sweetheart, you don't even have to ask." You assure her softly, never stopping your movements inside her. "I'm here to please you." You whisper, and it's enough for Wanda to break into an affected moan, hips thrusting helplessly against your hand until she arches her back and lets out the longest, dirtiest moan you've ever heard.

Her eyes flutter shut as she rides her high on your soaked hand, until she finally opens scarlet pupils for you, a long groan leaving her lips as the last sensations of the best orgasm she ever had fade away.

Wanda turns her full attention to you in the next second, stealing quick but intense kisses until a husky giggle leaves her lips and tickles yours.

"You're too good at this for your own good." She prompts, and the compliment takes a heartfelt giggle from you. You try to relax under her gaze but Wanda's dilated eyes have a different twinkle as she holds your cheeks more firmly. "I think I want to keep you all to myself. Without sharing with anybody else. What do you say, baby?"

You swallow dry, suddenly quite vulnerable "H-hm, like... dating?" You retort in a weak tone of voice because you need to confirm and well the idea that someone as unbelievably awesome as Wanda Maximoff is actually asking for exclusivity with you seems too freaking surreal not to confirm. As many times as necessary.

Wanda giggles mischievously, settling herself on top of your fingers that never left her and sighing as she feels you even deeper than before. "Yeah, just like that." She moans, and you're not sure if she's answering your question or guiding you through the motions, but you get the impression that the answer goes both ways.

It's not like you will contradict your new girlfriend any further.

Before Wanda could indulge in the sensation again, however, she stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist. Raising curious eyes to the breathless flushed girl on top of you, your first reaction was to check if you had done something wrong, and by god, hurt her. But Wanda bit back a smile, her other hand going down to your belt.

"We're overdressed, honey." She whispered against your lips, red sparkles playing with the edge of your shirts, teasing them upward. " Strip."

Moaning low against her mouth, Wanda almost didn't let you pull away. In record time, your clothes were off and so were hers, between stolen panting kisses you fell to the mattress again, curious hands urging together.

Wanda pinned you beneath her with no effort despite your super strength, and feeling her naked against your skin drove you to the brink of insanity. She swallowed each moan with her mouth, appreciating the increasingly needy sounds as she fit against your hips, and began to move hers.

Soon, the friction became unbearably arousing and you had to clutch at the sheet, and the headboard. A hot, tight knot at the tip of your stomach left you breathless, every movement of Wanda's hips into yours, the perfect fit between your cunts was enough to make you choke.

You practically meowed when she got the rhythm right. "O-oh god Wanda! T-there's something... fuck, I can't-"

"I know baby, just let go for me." She panted, her hands clenching the sheet on either side of your head, her hips frantic against yours. "Fuck, you feel amazing" She moans a confession, smiling satisfied at your expression of pure bliss beneath her.

Suddenly the knot bursts, and you're blinded by the pleasure of your first orgasm for a full moment. The headboard snaps in your left hand and Wanda cums in a loud, animalistic moan, spilling herself down on you before collapsing heavily onto your torso, your panting breaths mingling like your juices.

You try to recover together from the intensity of the climax, your hand finding her back on instinct to stroke her as Wanda nestles closer against you, an exhausted, satisfied smile on her lips.

She barely had a chance to lift her face to kiss you when the bedroom door suddenly opened.

"Kid, is everything all right in here I heard something breaking-'"

You nearly knocked Wanda off the bed in an attempt to cover the two of you with the comforter - and the mattress lost a few springs in the process.

The two Avengers who'd entered the room covered their faces with their hands, but unlike your brother, Natasha was holding back her laughter.

"I'm sorry. We... I... you-"

"Come on Captain, we're leaving." Natasha cut Steve off with a pat on the shoulder, leading the way backward. "Sorry girls, lock the door next time. And well, use protection!" She burst out laughing, ignoring the embarrassed grumbles from you and Wanda, and closing the door.

With the safety of a locked door, you hid your face in your pillow.

"Great, the best day of my life might be ruined because my brother is going to have a stroke." You grumbled, getting a hearty laugh from the other.

Wanda adjusted herself, stroking your hair until you looked at her again. "Best day of your life, huh? I'm flattered." She teases, smiling at the red that appears on your cheeks.

"As if you weren't cocky enough." You retort in the same tone, adjusting to hold her by the waist and pull her to you, getting on top now. Wanda sighs softly, even warmer with the addition of the blanket now, she finds it kind of hard to concentrate, much more talk. "Thank you, Wands."

Your line surprises her. "For what?"

"For being my first time." You clarify with a shrug, though your gaze was intense. "I've always wanted it to be with someone special, someone I like and trust. And there's no one I love more than you."

Wanda kisses you because she doesn't want to be the type to cry during sex, and she's pretty sure she would. You don't mind, she transmits the feeling through action and well, there are other things you're dying to do other than talk.

There will be time for confessions later.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff oneshots #marvel oneshots #elizabeth olsen x reader

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frostironfudge · 1 year

Text

I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers

Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon

Main Masterlist || AO3

Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there.

Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features.

Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family.

A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other.

Won together.

Lost together.

In the past few days died together.

“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory.

The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago.

“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor.

“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder.

“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it.

“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.”

She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?”

Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head.

Wanda looks down at her hands.

“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all.

Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?”

“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you.

“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off.

“I know, I did too.”

“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone.

Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart.

“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him.

“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows.

Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him.

“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places.

“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.”

“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene.

“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static.

“Wh-what?”

“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you.

“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens.

“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans.

You stand there dumbfounded.

As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.

Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor.

“I don’t care.” He says so easily.

You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you.

Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body.

Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you.

Eight months down the drain.

The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain.

“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.”

Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face.

He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing.

“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell.

“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam.

“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated

that about the company’s past.

The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you.

“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away.

You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems.

True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together.

When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia.

The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed.

Opening it reveals a burner phone.

“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle.

“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it.

“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him.

Opening the text.

SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain.

You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol.

“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair.

“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?”

“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink.

The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync.

“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun.

“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.”

“So confident.” You raise your brows.

“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes.

“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck.

Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face.

“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes.

“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again.

You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you.

“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own.

“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.”

You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late.

Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel.

“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down.

Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.”

“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?”

“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him.

“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand.

“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head.

“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle.

“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well.

Both of you burst out laughing.

“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”

“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room.

“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?”

You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers.

Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered.

You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart.

Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes.

The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow.

“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself.

“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself.

Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him.

A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level.

Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights.

Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him.

You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him.

The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them.

Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried.

After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab.

“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn.

“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”

“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup.

“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own.

“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more.

You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him.

“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD.

“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him.

“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts.

“See we’ll be okay.” You declare.

Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits.

Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury.

Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair.

You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.

“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all.

“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff.

Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes.

“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds.

Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods.

“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder.

“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow.

“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.”

No one nods.

Nick shakes his head leaving the room.

“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder.

“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further.

“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh.

“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan.

Nat and Sam stare at you.

“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched.

Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze.

Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust.

Sam nods, “Well best we head back.”

“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile.

“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.” You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead.

“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone.

“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back.

His mouth opens again to speak.

Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?”

“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out.

Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.

He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.

You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting.

“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”

“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.

“Vision.” He acknowledges.

“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head.

Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.

“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says

Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.

“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators.

“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator.

“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him.

Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him.

You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away.

“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator.

Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you.

“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers.

“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again.

People trickle in and out.

Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you.

You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him.

Finally it's just the two of you.

The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender.

“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched.

“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker.

“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him.

“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes.

There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”

“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge.

“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him.

“You lied?” You repeat.

“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,”

Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up.

“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,”

The doors open to your floor, you step out.

“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!”

“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door.

“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading.

He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over.

Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place.

Mixed training was now mandatory.

You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you.

Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties.

Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down.

“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh.

“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh.

“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.”

“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen.

The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you.

You grin at him.

“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Y/N.”

Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there.

You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench.

Sam takes his arm away.

You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem.

“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news.

“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.”

You glare at him, “Alright.”

An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough.

“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout.

You frown in recognition.

“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him.

“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead.

“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans.

Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands.

Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space.

Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you.

The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper.

He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”

You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps.

The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area.

You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.”

“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”

You give another once over and then follow him back down the path.

Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward.

Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him.

Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate.

Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck.

Why can't you move away?

Why do you want more of him?

Why do you miss him?

He hurt you.

He lied.

He hurt you.

You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway.

It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way.

You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall.

Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!”

You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you.

A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing.

Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous.

The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps.

“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort.

“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across.

Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew.

He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you.

“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it.

“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him.

Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,”

“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place.

Your palms cover his, you look up at him.

You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him.

Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view.

“Poppet, something is wrong.”

You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled?

Why was he falling to his knees?

You look behind him, people standing and watching.

The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield.

The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up.

“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body.

Steve keeps his eyes closed.

Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers.

How long was he out?

Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath.

He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them.

Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration.

“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.

“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm.

Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher.

“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend.

Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.”

A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own.

Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city.

Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside.

“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair.

Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you.

“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...”

He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors.

You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core.

“Steve—,”

“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you.

Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns.

The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?”

Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out.

“I see and why is she yours?”

He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.”

“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.

“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.

You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling.

“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked.

“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper.

Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place.

“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.”

Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.

“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch.

“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him.

“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured.

“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.”

Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed.

“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper.

“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again.

“You can’t have him at risk again!”

“I won’t let you die!”

“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you.

Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”

“Save it.”

“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts.

“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,”

“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.”

“You are not dying.” Steve grits out.

“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features.

“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him.

“He’s in the United Kingdom.”

“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?”

The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!”

Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.

You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you.

Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive.

He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way.

“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain.

A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault.

“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad.

The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.”

You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento.

You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across.

Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows.

“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off.

You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him.

“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over.

“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him.

His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief.

“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well.

“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away.

“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin.

He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you.

Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there.

“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.

“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.

Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop.

“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek.

His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you.

His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.

“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,”

His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.

The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.

“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall.

“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you.

When your thighs clench around him, Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos.

Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before.

“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.

“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.

You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.

Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched.

Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.

The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.

He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him.

“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy.

The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,

“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.

It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders.

Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture.

Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.

As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.

Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly.

You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.

Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet.

The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.

You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek.

Your eyes meet their old home of blue.

“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.

He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.

-x-x-x-x-

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