#captain america angst

[sunvmars]

only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

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word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really- but how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

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[ronearoundblindly]

Your Dog, His Tricks

a Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader tale set a little over a year after losing their virginity together and based on this ask.

Summary: Injured on a mission and MIA for days, you return to a very high-strung boyfriend who can't express what he's feeling until it boils to the surface.

Warnings: arguments and smut. MINORS DNI. WC 5.4k

You don’t know when it started, this sort of competition with your boyfriend, but at some point you and Steve became a packaged deal. Unfortunately, that package was labeled: Steve Rogers and his girl. You feel nameless sometimes, and you know you are better than that; maybe you aren’t super like he is, but you are (and were since before dating) a whole-ass Avenger in your own right. You are a stellar agent. You can bring home the top prize. You can finish this shit-show of a mission all on your own.

No help.

None.

You noticed a problem after months and months of fighting with Steve—no, that sounds wrong—beside Steve. 

Okay, maybe it’s not wrong-wrong to say fighting with him because you two do have the occasional argument. Just one argument, really. One argument over and over again about you fighting beside him, why it’s fine, why he should let it go. You are as safe fighting beside him now as you were before the two of you became this set, this lop-sided partnership. He still wants to protect you from shit you are trained to protect yourself from, shit you survived just fine without him, shit like the last three days.

He’s stubborn, and so are you.

You’ve had trouble getting him to back off. The Team is a team, and Steve does great, delegating all sorts of jobs when you are one among many. As soon as it’s you and him alone? He’s…overly helpful, over-protective, and generally over-the-top fussy. He is adoring and caring and competent. Apparently, those things make him feel capable of doing everything for you. It’s sweet until it’s not. Every time you start a project—laundry, cooking, organizing shelves, or leading an actual mission—Steve waltzes in and has to finish it for you.

Because he loves you. Because he’s trying to help. Because he can.

It makes you feel as if you can’t, or, at least, as if he thinks you can’t.

“Well, buddy, you can’t have this one,” you mutter outside of HQ’s gate, gripping your side and flicking open the phone you stole a few states back.

You’ve been gone for just shy of seventy-three hours.

At first, you truly had no way to contact the Team. You were on your own a thousand miles from home, fried comms and a spent weapon. You missed the rendezvous at the safehouse because it took twenty or so hours to find a vet office with the supplies to patch yourself up, and by the time you could have reached out, that ear worm wouldn’t leave you alone.

He’ll swoop in.

He’ll save you.

You’re his girl, so you need him. You can’t handle this without him. No one will believe you did once he gets anywhere near you.

Call it adrenaline. Call it blood loss. Call it shock. You can’t give up this glory, so you told yourself you needed radio silence to keep the recovered intel secure until back on Avengers campus. You told yourself the risk of interception was too high to chance a phone call.

Now, fifty feet from the infirmary, you need to get past one more obstacle.

You know Steve would jump from a third-story window to get to you, know he would scoop you right up into his arms and carry you over the threshold, know that would mean Steve wins.

No. Not this time. This is yours. You deserve the credit. You are crossing that finish line solo.

You jab the last of the epi-pens into your good leg, letting yet more adrenaline heave through what little of your blood volume is left and call the HQ secure line from the burner.

“Friday,” you start, standing at the bus stop, a blindspot from the Avengers’ surveillance cameras because the city already monitors it, “authorization Gamma-Lima-Four-Whisky. Do not declare connection. I repeat, do not declare this connection.”

The AI welcomes you back onto the grid politely.

“Thank you.” A bubble of pain bursts in your throat. “Give them a different location for this call, ok? Tell them it’s from the nearest functional payphone.”

Friday does as you say because why wouldn’t she? It’s not as if Steve is going to pause to question where the ping is—

—and he’s already out, on the bike, pushing that engine to its acceleration limit and narrowly escaping a shoulder check from the slowly opening gates.

You sneak right past, knowing he won’t look in his rearview, not with his eye on a prize ten blocks away, and you collapse just inside the garage ramp.

You wake prone in the Regeneration Cradle after surgery to a kind, smiling nurse monitoring your progress.

It’s difficult to focus. After a few blinks, you can see her features clearly, then beyond her are just eyes.

His eyes.

Piercing blue doesn’t begin to describe the intensity of Steve’s gaze, and his silence is deafening.

Each quarter-minute he inventories the room, and he exhales. That is the sum total of what he can manage to do right now. He’s attempting to keep it together until you two are alone obviously. Steve fails at very few things in life; this is one of them. You can see the outline of his teeth through his tight cheek.

“Doc wanted me to tell you you did a great job,” the nurse states softly. “If you hadn’t packed those wounds so tight, you’d have died for sure.”

Your mouth is too dry to respond, so you flash a wry smile. No one gets the Cradle without…extensive injuries. You’ve never had the ‘pleasure,’ not even for your through-and-through last year.

Steve huffs in frustration, keeping his huge body out of the nurse’s way even when you can feel him try to astral project himself forward to hand you ice chips. Instead, you swallow cotton.

“Captain Rogers,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimes from above, “your motorcycle has been cited for running five red lights with a further two dozen traffic violations. Shall I claim Official Avengers’ business?”

You croak ‘no.’ He says ‘yes.’

There’s a pause. “I will ask again later.”

Who says AIs can’t throw some serious shade?

Silence descends again as the spindling print needle moves on to a different wound. You’re lucid but wobbly trying to think, a combination of the waning anesthesia and pain meds.

If frowns could kill, your boyfriend’s would devastate the entire med bay.

This is what you hoped beyond hope to avoid, but it’s also why your endgame involved going solo.

“You’re making my point for me,” you sigh, your chest hurting more after surgery than it has in the past twenty-four hours. Clearly, your nerves are back online.

“And what point was that?“ he asks sarcastically, waiting in your own stubborn silence. “You gave me a heart attack.”

“Really?” You’re playfully shocked.

“No, not really! God.” He rushes closer. “What the hell were you thinking? If you had time to send me on a wild goose chase, you could damn well have called to tell me you were alive!”

The cradle’s lights shut off, job complete.

“Language, Steve.” 

He looks incredulous, engrossingly livid, anxious outrage contained by his one frayed thread of control left. 

“We found the intel,” he grits through a clenched jaw. “After power-washing your blood off it, everything was on the drive.”

You can’t sit up on your elbows yet, so you bite back, “good. It all worked out fine then.”

Wafting off him in thick clouds, Steve’s anger is near-flammable in the small room.

The nurse offers to step out for a second.

You say ‘yes.’ Steve barks ‘no.’

This isn’t the nurse’s first rodeo. “Alright, surgery went well. All debris and fragments removed. Your tissue is all intact now, too, but remember, this treatment doesn’t train new muscle fiber or nerve-endings.” She ignores Steve and pushes past to the other end of the table. “Rest up. Tomorrow, you can report to PT. They’ll work with you until you’re field-approved again.”

“She is not—“

“Both of you are ordered to rest,” the nurse snaps, nodding in Steve’s direction “—and make yourself useful by changing her drip when it runs out. If you can’t manage that, Captain, I will find a separate apartment or keep her here overnight.”

“No,” Steve breathes, visibly deflating. Like a scolded puppy, your boyfriend tucks his chin down, rings of grey settling beneath his dark sea eyes. It’s plain as day he hasn’t slept either.

The nurse calls for a wheelchair, and Steve dutifully helps you scoot off the table when it arrives. While he positions the IV to move in tandem, you attempt to push yourself by the huge rubber wheels and fail. Doc was not kidding about muscle weakness.

Steve says nothing.

You’re rolled back to your shared room by the grumpiest Captain America. 

He helps you dress in baggy, comfy clothes and silently reattaches the line of your drip. Not one touch is in a sexual, sensual, or even intimate way even though you are naked at some point.

You can’t remember what you expected; you’ve been so focused on completing the mission for so long. Did you want a desperate homecoming? Did you want him to grovel or worship at your feet? You think, at some point, you knew he’d push back, but you thought…maybe…he’d want you more.

Steve seems to turn his interest on and off so easily, which is great professionally but hard to read personally…or maybe you’re just struggling under the distracting hum of medication. It’s a white noise you can’t ignore, lulling you unconscious, so you can’t analyze the situation anymore. Maybe, you think, you try…but the thoughts don’t come.

He situates you on his side of the bed—to accommodate the cord and stand—and tucks himself quietly into the smallest corner of mattress that his bulk can fit on.

He falls asleep holding your hand. It’s the only place you two are connected. After nearly eighty-five hours apart, that’s still worth it. Maybe.

At some point, his hand goes limp and falls away.

Finally clear of mind, you keep watching Steve the next day. He doesn’t necessarily seem angry, and he doesn’t necessarily seem relieved either. He’s so robotic in his interactions. He won’t talk to you just at you. 

You understand why he was so standoffish last night, but you thought Steve would surely want you after that. You thought he’d start touching you again. 

You two waited so long for your first time, but after that, sex was relatively easy. Steve is an affectionate man when he’s allowed, when he’s in love, and you know he loves you.

Like the nurse said: all your tissue is fully healed. The only restrictions you have are in regards to field work, and the phantom jolts of pain—when you reach into a cabinet or take down a clothes hanger—aren’t real. 

Steve’s always an arm’s length away, just in case, meaning he is there to help you.

Always an arm’s length away.

No closer. No farther.

That afternoon you attempt to start talking about your mission, but that’s when he moves.

Steve practically sprints out the door with a half-baked excuse, so you go to physical therapy alone. You can go alone. That’s not the problem.

If you thought talking to Steve was difficult, you weren’t ready for how hard touching Steve would be.

You try to initiate even a cuddle that second night, and he jumps up claiming to have forgotten something somewhere else that he promised someone. Your boyfriend can’t lie worth beans. You don’t know why he tries.

You’re asleep before he returns.

The next night is exactly the opposite. You spend longer at the gym, slowly and painstakingly repeating every single exercise you know in order to streamline these new muscles. It’s an unholy pain in the ass, but you do it because you can—and will—get back in the field.

Even though the workout was mild, you’re awash with that runner’s high when you return to find Steve passed out already. He looks so peaceful, brow relaxed and lips gently parted. He also looks, well, good enough to eat, but you’ll start slow.

There was one time early on, before you two went all the way, that you woke him up by grinding on him in your sleep. You think now, perhaps, you can recreate that, catch him off-guard and dissipate some of this tension between you. This would be a good release. You don’t normally go this long. Obviously, Steve wouldn’t have masturbated while you were MIA and possibly dead, and every other second since has been accounted for.

He practically can’t have sex anywhere else except naked in a bed. He’s even told you, point blank, that he feels no need to touch himself since he has you. You are what he wants. That’s what he said.

Except he doesn’t wake up to your advances. He just rolls over like you’re disturbing him and softly snores.

For the first time, you wonder if you’ve really broken the two of you. How long will he be mad at you for doing your job? 

Steve rolls back over in his sleep, holding you close like nothing’s happened. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but it’s enough and so, so wonderful to imagine all is well.

About a week into your ‘recovery’ (which is sorta bullshit since you can do everything the same by now just with an occasional, faint twinge, no more than the strain of every workout, ever), Steve takes Sam Wilson up on his offer of 1-on-1 basketball for a while. The Team—minus you—has a raid planned in the morning, and there’s always nervous energy to burn off in anticipation.

Your boyfriend has been a nightmare grump, but no one wants to take on the hassle of convincing Steve that he’s being too Steve to Steve properly. He still won’t talk to you about anything other than the weather, food, or daily schedules.

You’re even considering taking a break from field work because this all has become too much. If Steve is gonna shut down after every dangerous mission—which is, in fact, all of them—then maybe it’s not worth the risk. You’re good, you’re great, but you aren’t super.

“Taste of his own medicine, I say,” Bucky mutters, sitting beside you on the bleachers between courts.

“Huh?” You were distracted, watching Steve and Sam squeak across the floor.

Steve sinks a perfect layup and doesn’t gloat. Do-gooder.

“He used to get so mad when I’d find him in an alley all beaten up,” Buck continues. “Thought I was being too protective. I trusted him, but he was puny and he did get sick all the time. He could take a punch, sure, but every mark took weeks to heal. Half the time, they were still yellow when some idiot landed fresh ones.”

Steve claps beneath the net, encouraging Sam, focused on not outshining anyone.

He’s been the same with everyone else but you, and the whole Team can see it. You shouldn’t be surprised someone is finally talking about it; you simply wonder how Buck drew the short straw.

“Didn’t wanna be babied,” Bucky snorts, fondly glowering at his century-long bestie, “while low and behold, he pulls that stunt with everybody, every day.” 

“Yup,” you pop, looking at the matte metal beneath your feet, knowing there’s a line between the ‘caring’ version and the ‘coddling’ version. Steve nose-dived right over that line this time.

“What he appreciated, though, was consistency.” Bucky swivels his hair around into a bun and ties it. “Punk is dedicated, and even if it was just him--the hund’ed pound soaking-wet guy whose only real talent at that point was getting back on his feet--he knew he’d fight anyway.

“Bit hypocritical to be mad at his girl for doing the same, don’t ya think?” Bucky muses, clucking his tongue.

The brunette watches you bristle slightly at the moniker. His girl. Not only is it what got you into this mess, it feels untrue based on that big, broad, cold shoulder you’ve received from the man racing back and forth in front of you.

Smiling, Bucky nudges you with his elbow. “I’m excited for you to get back on your feet,” he adds.

You’re stuck thinking about that long after Bucky jumps into the game.

It’s no surprise then that when the doctor gives you the all-clear the very next morning, you’re over the moon and ready to strike. You don’t hesitate for a second when the alarm sounds less than an hour later.

The Team needs reinforcements. Your Team needs you.

You hustle into the back of a quinjet with a dozen agents. While the others file out to where the main conflict is raging, you sneak around the perimeter to suss out the mission goal, a treasure trove of enemy tech hidden somewhere in what was thought to be an abandoned village.

Not so abandoned if it’s lighting up like the pyrotechnics show on an action film set...

The explosions rattle the ground, yet you know the Team have breached the main chamber. Those enemy forces still fighting are distracting from a retreat. The other agents can catch them just fine. Your mission is intel recovery.

To keep your approach stealthy, you don’t announce your movements over comms, and Nat doesn’t scan back down the dark hallway you wedge into as she carries out an asset. If you weren’t so far back, you never would have seen him.

An enemy agent slinks out from behind a floor-to-ceiling tapestry right in front of you. His silhouette is short and thin; he’s built for stealth, too.

Your heart thumps loud in your ears as you follow, and that bastard gets close—so close—to Steve’s turned back that the pistol’s muzzle nearly touches.

Not this time. Not a chance. None.

You land a roundhouse kick to the exposed neck above his kevlar, and that sucker goes down like a sack of potatoes.

Steve turns around at the ready, stunned silent in the middle of his instructions to Bucky who is not visible from the other side heaped boxes. The papers still smoke where evidence was burned.

You salute at big, blue eyes. 

“On your six, Cap.” 

Steve looks at you, looks down at the man, and looks back up at you…pissed. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

What the fuck indeed…

All you did was help your team. All you did was stop Captain America from getting his head blown off. In no small fashion, all you did was save your boyfriend’s life.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

His grip on your arm is painful as he leads you all the way back to the jet himself, shoving you into the jump seat between other returned agents and shouting for you to 'stay right there.'

Bucky announces over comms that the rest is clean up. All but the specialized document interpretation and perimeter teams are moving out. 

Steve huffs, contemplates staying on a battlefield instead of going back with you, but decides to sit across the ship in silence again, fuming, making fists over and over in his fingerless leather gloves, bitterly sniffing as loud as possible the entire flight home. He refuses to answer a single person until the jet touches down at HQ. 

“Everyone off,” he bellows, “everyone except you.” 

You can’t stop it. Your hands fly up in exaggerated annoyance automatically.

“What do you want, Steve? I got the go-ahead this morning. I’m allowed to be here.”

“Stop doing that.” He rounds on you.

“Doing what? My job?!”

Chest puffed out, feathers ruffled, cheeks hot and red, Steve peels off his cowl. “Being insubordinate.”

“You’re not my superior officer,” you hiss, “we are equals, and if you think for one second I did anything wrong out there, go ahead and report me. From where I’m standing, I did the work, got cleared for duty, helped out the team, and stopped you from being shot.”

You poke a finger to his chest for each achievement listed.

“Fine," Steve shouts, crossing his arms, "but quit acting like a selfish coward.”

Them be fightin’ words. “A what?”

“You heard me,” he all but whispers.

It’s laughable, truly laughable how bad Steve is at hiding some of those wheels from turning in his head. This isn’t about today. This is the thing he buried the past week.

You roll your eyes. “If you’re gonna throw a hissy fit every time I get a scratch—“

“THREE BULLETS IS NOT A SCRATCH.” He tries—he visibly, painfully tries—to keep his cool one last time. “You weren’t ready,” he concludes, judge, jury, and executioner all poured into one star-spangled package.

“Say’s who?” You’re stepping closer, getting in his face because this is bullshit and unfair. “Last time I checked you’re not a doctor, and you should be thanking me for saving your ass—“

“It’s not your job to save me.”

“We have the same job, Steve! We are both perfectly capable of—“

“I know that,” he barks, hot breath mingling with yours.

“Do you? Because you don’t seem to think I can handle myself.” You push weakly at his chest, taunting, like it's a game. “Maybe you need to walk it off, buddy.”

His face cracks, an avalanche unmoored from a stable mountain.

Oh shit. You’ve done it now.

“Walk it off?! WALK IT OFF?!”

Steve charges like a bull seeing red, crowding you against the far wall, his own derisive finger pointed at your heart.

“You were injured. You didn’t make contact. You went dark for days, and you could have died. Alone. In the middle of nowhere. Who knows how long it would have taken us to find you. No—“ he cups your chin in a tight pinch “—you want to talk about the job? It’s protocol to check in. It’s common courtesy to let me know you’re alive, and it’s goddamn rude to ignore your own safety.”

A dark, hazy sheen layers over his sharp gaze. “Don’t make me keep you home.”

There’s a deep line of frustration carved between his brows. His nostrils flair as he waits, daring you to refute him.

“Well—” you purse your lips in defiance “—isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”

Steve lets go of you, smacked away by your cutting tone.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, whatever, Rogers,” you dismiss. “We both know you don’t have the authority to bench me.”

“Like hell I don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and throwing your arms above your head, He weaves your hands through the cargo net behind you. The loops are tight and complicated in seconds, he’s so fast.

You can’t wriggle away.

“Let’s see how you like it.”

Steve roughly throws the zipper of your uniform down, letting the jacket hang open to show nothing but your sports bra.

“Feeling paralyzed—“ he dexterously undoes your belt “—exposed—“ your pants and underwear are yanked down to your ankles “—and afraid.” His last word thickens the air on the jet. 

How can this man launch you into unbridled lust in the space of two syllables?

Who. Fucking. Cares. How.

Steve’s fingertips teasingly glide over the swell of your breasts, brush down your belly, and tick their way in a casual walk between your legs. He retracts his touch the instant you let out a longing sigh, unable to restrain how needy you are. His fingers wander to perfectly clean and unmarked flesh…on your thigh, along one side, and a few inches below that. He’s tracing the bullet wounds he watched heal so quickly.

“Maybe I should leave you wondering how it’ll all play out?” he says absently, lost in thought, his thumb shifting to notch into the dip of your hip. “Maybe I should leave you wondering if we’ll ever—”

“Yes,” you whimper, no real idea what you’re saying. That’s not what answer you meant.

“How would you like three whole days of this feeling, huh? You think you’d fare any better than I did? Think you’d make it even five minutes?”

“Uh-uh.” Again, with no clue what you’re truly responding to, you buck your hips forward onto his long fingers.

The cords around your wrists get tighter while you struggle to set a pace. Behind you, the metal rings of the netting hit the hull with a soft clinking noise. 

“Not so fast.” Steve pulls his hand away just far enough to remove all friction. “Because three days, sweetheart, it was torture. Felt like an eternity right on the edge.”

“Please,” you beg.

One deliberate swipe of his fingers through your slick is enough to make you mewl.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Steve. Please, I need you.”

“Need me? You have an odd way of showing it, doll. You have to promise me—“ he thrusts his fingers in “—promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I’ll never leave you,” you cry, convinced that it’s true for the sole reason: you never want to experience anything other than this Steve for as long as you live.

“You are so brave, and so…capable, and I know you can do anything, but you…can’t survive anything.” He takes excruciating pleasure in slow thrusts and teasing circles. “Promise me you won’t be so reckless. Promise, say it.”

“I promise.” Your weight sags into his ministrations, called to focus on nothing but where his hand disappears between you. “I promise I won’t be reckless.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your head falls limp against your tied arms. It sounds so good from his lips. Why did you ever doubt?

“I promise I’ll come back to you,” you manage out like a prayer.

“Yeah? That’s it. Is that what you want?”

“I promise. I promise, Steve.” You time your movements sloppily with his measured tempo. “Please, I need more.”

“I know. I know.” He’s strung out, too, listening to your pathetic whimpers after less than five minutes, exactly like he predicted.

You’re so over-wrought with desperation you can’t coordinate with his manhandling your legs apart—your knees, really, since your ankles are still caught in your pants. Instead of taking off your boots, Steve simply unzips himself and dives right into your wet, warm, and welcoming pussy.

Knowing he has a thing against anything naughty in his suits makes it sexier. You want his intensity—you’ve always been curious—and finally you have it: unhinged, untethered, super Steve Rogers. Your body makes room out of sheer joy.

“I know,” Steve coos, his face pressed to your chest as he adjusts. “Fuck, I know, honey.”

“Move, Steve.”

“No,” he says with a gentle kiss to your sternum. “You wanna come? Go ahead. You can do it all on your own. You can do anything you want, can’t ya?”

You groan in frustration.

You wanted this, an annoying voice in the muddled depths of your mind calls. You’re independent.

With a sob of both excitement and fury, your thighs weld onto that sturdy, I-beam beast. You brace your bent arms over your angled and hovering body, leveraging the cargo straps to hoist you up and down.

Your muscles burn, strained more than they were on your lone journey back to HQ.

Steve grunts and moans, the ghost of his wide spread palms beneath your back as a safety net.

“That’s it. That’s it, good girl.” 

Amidst your own noises, you can barely hear him. You’re not building to a climax, you’re falling into one at terminal velocity, flailing. Struggling to hang on and let go all at once, you do come, but it’s more of a plateau than a full release.

Steve’s unhappy and takes your ass in a bruising grip, finally pumping his thick length in and out, dragging the head of his cock across that perfect spot over and over.

“You can do better than that,” he snarls, hair wrecked and falling in his face.

Wave, undertow, and wave again, pleasures simply blend into the next. He gets handsy, keyed up and out of control, muttering “don’t you ever fucking leave me.”

You’d scold him for cursing if the air weren’t being punched from your lungs.

“Come on, sweetheart. Three for three.”

You’re almost disappointed he only wants you to come three times in payment for his days of torture. Even as a tear escapes the corner of your eye and your throat breaks in a hoarse “please,” you know you would give him more. You'd give him anything.

When you finally reach that shattering end, Steve is almost incoherently feral, one hand clamped at the back of your neck, the other anchored to the small of your back, slamming your ass to his leather-covered thighs like you are his mission.

“I promise,” you try to repeat, but you aren’t sure they sound like words.

Whether in response to you or as an errant thought, Steve’s own broken voice rattles at your sweaty neck. “You can take it,” he whispers gruffly. “You can take it.”

You’re floating by the time he comes, his hips stilling slowly. The buzz of your body now outdoes anything anesthesia or pain meds concocted.

Steve peppers your skin with lazy, light kisses until you remind him of your bound wrists, but then he’s overly apologetic and scrambling to free them.

He keeps himself inside you and maneuvers to sit with you on his lap.

You stay there for a while, your numb and sore arms folded between your chests. Steve only stops petting your shoulders to cradle your face, soft blue eyes roaming, adoring. He whispers concern that you’re okay, how are your legs, are you warm enough, you feeling good?

Yes, you think, you’ve taken care of your girl.

“I love seeing you like this,” he mumbles long after the pins and needles have abandoned their assault on your tired legs.

You tuck some silky hair behind his ear. “Like what? Fucked out?”

He’s floating too because he doesn’t chastise.

“Happy, healthy—“ he lets out a deep sigh “—home.”

“Speaking of home,” you say, inching ever so slightly higher to let him slide out of you, “wanna cuddle in bed all night and not get up until someone tries to break in the door?”

That knocks some of the glow off him. He drags a hand down his face. “Oh god, the poor people who have to clean this thing…”

“Let’s be honest,” you snort. “This isn’t the worst thing that’s been on you, but if it’s that big of a deal, we could go hose you down before handing our equipment in.”

He smiles, shaking his head in dismissal.

With his help, you climb off his lap and slowly shimmy up your bottoms, realizing he did truly make a mess of you both.

Steve looks down at his own lap, horrified. “Do I need to burn this?”

“That sounds like a challenge to make you filthier,” you consider, but maybe you should change into your civies before exiting the jet…

“Ya know,” Steve muses, passing over to the small locker of clothing overhead and grabbing a t-shirt and sweats, “I almost got shot in the head today, and you had three bullets fished outta you a week ago. I’m thinking we’ve earned a vacation.”

Workaholic Steve? Actively applying for time off? You’ll be damned.

“My my my, Captain Rogers…the real dirty talk begins.”

He huffs out a laugh and blushes.

“Well, I know we didn’t do anything more special than dinner for our anniversary, so…” He pulls you to his chest again, smelling of slightly musty laundry and pungent sex. “Let’s go on a fucking vacation.”

Your neck cranes to his height to see a soft smile. Oof, he’s good.

 “I missed you,” he adds like a prayer, “and you’re the badass who saved me.”

He giggles at your scrunched nose and watches you bask in that glory.

“Like I said, you’re welcome—“ you hug Steve, letting his warmth radiate through you, moving in time with his rising and falling chest “—and I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He kisses the crown of your head.

When you open the bombay doors, there’s a thermos left at the base of the ramp, a folded paper tucked beneath it. 

We should talk about how to better soundproof the jets. Brought you some refreshments. It’s hazelnut. ~Bucky

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jamneuromain @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @brandycranby

A/N: I sincerely give up on editing this anymore, so I hope it turned out okay 🙇🏻‍♀️

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#shy anon #ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #old dog new tricks #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader smut #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america angst #captain america smut

[jamneuromain]

Divorce with either Steve/Andy I'm feeling angsty.

Whether happy/sad ending is up to you :)

Hi bestie <3 I'm sorry it has taken more time than I thought but my drabble turns into a one-shot before I can even realize skjksjskjskjksj

hope you'll enjoy this <3

Lie, Lie, Lie

Steve Rogers x You (Mutant!Reader)

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Divorce, (also asshole-ish Avengers?)

W/C: 5.4 K

Summary: A small leak will sink a great ship. -- Benjamin Franklin

A/N: My first entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.

It starts with a minor, insignificant detail.

Just some static in the phone, really.

A snippet of sound that common people would interpret as bad signals, considering that Steve is phoning you from thousands of miles away, while you are using the landline.

For holy Mary’s sake, who the hell still uses landlines today?

Apparently, the academic conferences you attend do.

Steve notices the small static buzzing the call you are having, after which you grumble in frustration, “Stupid signals, can’t even function properly.”

He smiles, knowing that you can’t see the expression on his face. You are cute even when you are complaining.

You sigh deeply on the other end of the phone, your voice slightly distorted from the electronic, or wireless, transmission, “I miss you, Stevie. Can’t wait to come home.”

“It’ll only be two more days,” Steve reassures you with his soothing timbre, “I’ll be waiting for you at the airport, alright? First thing you’ll see after getting off that plane.”

“Okay.” You know he can hear you pouting, but you pout anyway, “Gotta have some sleep now. I’m going to the keynote tomorrow morning.”

“Take care of yourself.” Steve holding on to his phone, wincing again as the static buzzes again, but it appears only on his end, as you seem unaffected by it, “Take care of my favorite scientist and my favorite girl for me, okay?”

“I am your favorite girl. And you know I have my powers.” You try your best to stifle a large yawn, but Steve senses your tiredness right away.

“Sleep tight, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Steve blows a kiss, hoping that it would travel across oceans and lands via the phone, and reach your forehead.

“Night, Steve.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

You are about to hang up when the static tortures his ear again.

You hang up.

Static isn’t a problem for most people, who, unlike Steve, don’t have super hearing and super memory.

Steve could think that the static is a minor interference, however, static that appears during phone calls are hardly inconsistent. And if he has learned a thing or two during the time that landlines are still fairly popular – 40s, by the way – is that static doesn’t go on and off, nor does it blur on different pronunciations since static should naturally have a pattern.

Since Stark phones issued by the friendly billionaire is certainly off the question, he suspects that someone might be tapping into your landline.

Something is off. His intuition is telling him. So, he called Tony and asked for a favor.

After some analysis that Steve couldn’t fully understand, Tony presses his index finger to his lips tightly, humming to himself.

“Anything?” Steve watched as Tony chugged down the fifth cup of coffee ten minutes ago, and now Tony has been unusually quiet.

Tony spins his chair around, looking thoughtful. He waves his fountain pen in midair, pointing at his screen in general, “This isn’t some sort of prank Bruce asked you to play, is it?”

“Prank? Tony, this is my wife we’re talking about.” Steve is about to lose his patience. He crosses his arm, dead serious, “What is … this? Am I being paranoid or …”

He wouldn’t dare to think about you in actual danger and he’s sitting cozily in Avengers Compound. He could’ve been risking your precious rescue time. Or warn you, somehow.

Even knowing that you have your special powers.

Your mutant powers.

Still, there are hundreds of ways for you to be defenseless.

A collar could suppress all your powers. A shot of the new dose of Mutant Serum could make you lose your X-gene once and for all. And all those terrible things that could happen to you.

Tony scratches his goatee, his expression is puzzled, to say the least, “this static that you provided, looks like the interface Bruce and I were cooking up for a Friday-upgrade.”

“English, please, Tony.”

Tony magnifies the example of static extracted from the recording that is automatically stored on Stark servers, and pulls out a random MRI brain scan from Steve’s health exam last year, “See what I mean?”

Steve watches the two waves on the screen closely, almost stuttering from what he is summarizing, “They look … similar.”

“Exactly.” Tony throws the MRI scan off the screen and points to the static, “This? This isn’t sound. This is human thinking. Hell, thinking, I’m not even sure it’s human. And it has a purpose. The reason you are hearing the ‘static’ – I’ll name that thing later, is that it serves as a relay, that patches you through its – thinking, whatever, and directs your call to Y/N.”

“It isn’t Friday?” Steve blurts out the only AI he could think of.

“If it is Friday, the Nobel committee is handing me the award right this moment.” Tony snorts, but he turns serious as soon as he notices Steve’s worrying look, “but with this fragment, I can locate Y/N,” and with a few taps on the keyboard, a global map appears in front of them.

Tony mutters to himself, “Can’t track the relay itself, but I can … ”

Another few keystrokes and a red dot blip.

“… in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.” Tony isn’t even sure about what the blipping dot shows, “Now this can’t be right-” Tony looks back at Steve, whose eyebrows are tying up like knots, “Where did you say she’s having this academic conference?”

“Leipzig, Germany.” Steve answers without a second thought, “Quantum 2023.”

Tony looks awe-struck.

“I’m sending a team to get her.” Steve stands up from his seat abruptly, heading to the doorway, but Tony’s words make him stop.

“Quantum 2023 is next week, Steve. And it isn’t held in Leipzig.”

“But that’s impossible,” Steve turns on his heels, glaring at Tony, “She told me that she came into contact with some Professor, who invited her to this conference because she was doing so well with her panel back in January.”

“And what’s that panel?”

“CPS Quantum Computer-”

“CPSQ was never held this year.” Tony shakes his head, “The conference was cancelled because a main member of the CPSQ committee passed away last December. What else has she told you?”

“I can’t tell you.” You dare not read his face. Your gaze lands on the marble counter that you and Steve agreed on two years ago, instead of him. You lied. And you know you lied. And the fact that you know that you can tell him nothing, makes you even more scared and frightened, as you are well aware the last things Steve would tolerate are betrayal and infidelity.

Your shared home, once a sanctuary for you and the love of your life, now withering and shaken, cold and gloomy. It no longer is a safe haven for you.

“Did anyone blackmail you with anything?” Steve asks calmly.

He’s prepared for the worst things to come.

He spent the whole night with Tony trying to figure out the so-called “academic conferences” you were supposed to be a part of, and there were eight of them during the last three years.

Some calls were too old to trace, but Tony has figured out it with the recent three conferences, you weren’t doing Keynotes or presenting your results to academia, but in the same spot in the Pacific doing God knows what.

It was undocumented waters. Tony could only gather so much info that the islands in the vicinity were bought by a mysterious wealthy man who paid through his Kaymen Island account.

And you were visiting it almost every four months. Like clockwork.

There were a few heat signatures on the island, but with no visible vehicle, neither ferry nor helicopter in sight, Tony would have to guess that you would need someone who can transport you from where you were to the island.

“No.” You have no excuse. No reasons. No idea what you should say.

But you weren’t blackmailed. You went there voluntarily.

His gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. From the corner of your eyes, you can see he’s looking at you intensely. Trying to figure out whether you are still lying to him.

“Are you cheating?”

The other possible explanation he has thought of. Frightening, if an answer of certainty comes out of your mouth, but it would explain your lies. Steve curls his hand into a fist, the veins on his hand popping briefly onto his skin.

The hands that caressed your hair and your jaw, cradling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. All the gentle moves. Treating you as a soft and delicate being. Now a hard fist on the table.

He didn’t touch you on your way back to your home. Nor did he accept your hugs and kisses at the airport.

He was very disappointed.

“No.” You answer, with your head low.

How could he doubt your relationship? How could he doubt your love for him? Waiting for him to return after every battle, taking care of his wounds, having-

How could he think all of those were lies too?

“Then what are you hiding?”

Steve maintains his best manners not to crush the table under his fist into bits and pieces. He wants you to answer. Something. Tell him why he has been kept in the dark.

Anything.

You open your mouth, but no word comes out.

“I can’t tell you.” You whisper, your resolve of keeping the secret faltering under his piercing gaze. But you can’t tell him.

There’s turmoil in your stomach, wreaking havoc in your guts. You want to throw up when thinking about the truth, but cannot say it. Not with your teeth and tongue. Not with pen and paper. You cannot. You physically cannot.

Nothing remorseful or any expression similar appears on your face, as Steve observes your reaction closely.

“Please, Steve. I promise I’ll tell you, but now is not the time. It was – is an important … deed, to do.”

Steve stands up from his chair slowly.

Not even looking at you anymore, he sounds emotionless. Cold.

“I thought for a moment you were kidnapped. Tortured. Lured into a trap.”

“Steve-”

“I was this close,” he pinches his index finger and thumb together, “sending a full-blown rescue tactical team, to get you out.”

“Steve, please, just listen-”

“And are you talking, Y/N? Are you telling me what I need to hear?” He stands with his back to you, shaking with uncontrollable anger. “The truth, that’s all I want.”

“I can’t-”

“I can’t, either.” He interrupts you. For the entire time you can remember, from his cute and sweet attempts to ask you out on a date, from his chivalry of taking you out and asking you to be his wife, from the start of your happy marriage, he hasn’t once interrupted you when you were talking.

Tears roll down your eyes as you are tongue-tied, unable to utter a sound.

But Steve didn’t see those tears. If he did, he would have some idea that you are truly sorry for what you have done.

Steve stands with his back to you.

“I’ll save us the trouble and ask Tony to wipe our marriage from the system.”

Almost a shriek, your hands and feet are placed in the bottom of the ice pit, “You can’t-! I- You can’t!”

Your sobbing fills the room that was occupied by a dreadful silence. From your husband.

You would never imagine that a lie would go this far.

“Watch me.”

He can’t, not when you are-

Not when you are working on-

Not when you are trying to-

He can’t.

Realization dawns on you that even if you did tell him one thing that you can say to make him stay, he would consider it a lie.

Or an effort you make, trying to be bound to him.

That your trust is broken forever.

With that realization hitting you, he leaves the room.

Five years later, somewhere near Hawaii.

“This is really nice, what you got over here,” Tony comments in honesty, taking a step back to observe the rippling portal gate, “How long has it been put into use?”

Jean, the woman with flaming red hair and a scarf around her shoulders, has an impeccable smile on her face, leading the way as Natasha and Steve boarded the small vehicle up ahead, “Four. We used to transport to and from all over the world with the help of mutants who can create a portal. But as larger machines and construction materials were needed on Krakoa, the very land that you are standing on, our top scientists decided to benefit us all by inventing an instant portal device- Devices, should I say.”

As there are three large portals, each the size of a house, standing next to each other on the founding stones.

“Why are we even here?” Steve murmurs to Natasha, sounding confused, “I thought bargaining was Tony’s specialty…?”

“Smile, Rogers.” Natasha murmurs back, her eyes scanning the tropical island for any anomaly, “It’s a diplomatic event, not a business one.”

“Like a photo Op?”

“Like a peace offering.” Nat lowers her voice as she notices a mutant with bright green hair start the engine of their car, and take the position as their driver, “Krakoa now has the most efficient cancer eradication solution, and if we all behave and act like adults, the world would accept the possibility of the first mutant country. The UN is considering whether to add Krakoa as a new member country as we speak.”

“And if we blew it, WW3?”

“Worse. We will be hanged before we could say ‘assemble’.” Natasha sits straighter when Tony and Jean, the woman with red hair approaches the vehicle, and asks with a louder voice, “Would you mind telling us about the three-day trip planned on Krakoa?”

“Certainly.” With a look from Jean, the green-hair starts the car and drives away from the beach, heading towards a road that leads to the Krakoa city center. “We don’t have anything planned for this evening, so Lorna – our temporary driver - and I will show you around this place in general and escort you to your residence, where you will have dinner with our high council tonight. Tomorrow you’ll visit our university facilities and our most advanced laboratory, with our head scientist Hank. If you would like to visit any place else, feel free to tell us and we’ll try our best to satisfy your demands…”

Their residence is a small building near the city square. After a brief tour of the area, Jean tells them that normally they wouldn’t expect many visitors, so the building, though more well-equipped than most hotels, only resides the three of them, plus Jean for now.

Natasha strides across the room as Tony takes voice notes on his phone.

“… Their technology is at least two decades, if not three, more advanced than our top scientist.” With that as a summary, Tony stuffs his phone in his pocket.

And the room is filled with deafening silence.

“Do you think they cleared this place out when they are expecting us?” Steve sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Tony and Natasha.

“They are afraid of us, as we are afraid of them.” Natasha says slowly. Not really answering Steve’s question, but hinting at the opinion that she has in mind. Her striding comes to a halt, “The looks we had on our way here? Not all friendly.”

“Too bad we don’t have a mutant as a middleman.” Tony clicks his tongue, moving around his jaw like he has a toothache.

“Tony-” Starts Natasha warningly.

They all know one mutant who helped around in the Avengers a few years ago. They know one mutant was exceptionally close to Steve. Hell, they were even there to witness the wedding of-

“I’m gonna go get some air.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long exhale, before walking out of the room.

Of Steve and you.

You were not a powerful mutant. But you would be helpful, under a circumstance like this.

But Steve divorced you a few years back.

No one knows why. No one knows any information regarding the terrible divorce that made Steve leave you, leave the States for months.

Except that you were “missing” from time to time.

Natasha sits on the other armchair in the room, looking closely at Tony, and his greying beard. She chooses her words very carefully, “Was she…” Were you cheating back then? On Steve?

Tony shakes his head, “He never told me.”

“But is it possible that…”

“I wanted to believe the other way.” Tony nibbling at his bottom lip. In the end, he looks back at Natasha, the former Russian spy, “But the incident right after she left…”

A breach that erased all of your data, along with the data of three staff within the Avengers Compound, happened a few months after you left the Compound and disappeared. Not only the records of your information, but also calls and texts, almost every trace of your presence was erased completely from both Avengers Compound and the government system as well.

The three staff later identified as mutants. They fled from the compound on the same day of the incident.

No one knew where you were. No CCTV or surveillance camera has recorded your prescence ever since.

It's a shame to admit, but no one bothered to look either.

After all, there were no demands or ransoms asked. And they were too busy saving the world to care for such trivia.

Nothing else was missing.

A few printed photos that Steve kept in his office survived. Printed photos of you and him together. That he had kept in the bottom of his drawer ever since your divorce.

A week later, Krakoa was established, announcing itself as a country and providing shelters for all mutants.

Steve suspected that the two events might be connected somehow, but Krakoa banned anyone who isn’t a mutant from entering the territory and has been moving on the map ever since, refusing any prying eyes.

Steve wanders into the patch of green a few hundred inches away from the hotel, heading towards the beach.

He was painfully reminded of you.

Of your happy times together.

And the determination you showed when you refused to tell him about your affair.

Yes, your affair. Even though you denied it. Steve believes that you were lying to him. About your location, about your everything.

About your lover.

“… come on down little monkey!” A familiar voice ghosting his ears.

A little girl screams at the top of her lungs, before giggling and sitting at the far end of a branch on a tree a few meters away, “But it’s out of power-Hi, Uncle Hank!”

The girl has blonde curly hair, bouncing as she jumps on the thin branch that could snap at any second. Steve is about to sprint to rescue when he hears you.

Your familiar voice.

“Come on, Mommy will catch you.” You clap your hand, your back facing Steve, who is hiding in the bushes. Your arms stretched wide open, urging the little girl to come down.

Urging your daughter to come down from the tree? From a branch seven feet in the air? How are you even encouraging the little girl while she could break her neck is unfathomable to Steve. This is stupid. Reckless. Irresponsible. A total -

“Come on, little monkey.” You clap your hand again, “It won’t be half as fun if I have to come up and get you.”

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know that the rocket boots will die so soon,” begins a man on your side, apologizing. A thin man with glasses in his 40s. “The battery is supposed to last five hours when I put them on- Oh.”

“Yes.” Steve hears your grumpiness, “Batteries. Hank. My expertise.”

Steve knows your expertise.

Although you studied quantum physics and its application, your interest in Physics derived from your ability to absorb power and power transformation. However, you were not particularly interested in fighting bad guys, that’s why you weren’t on missions as often as he thought you would.

Batteries. You would absorb electricity from it in an instant, even when you are not intentionally doing so.

“Exhibiting her abilities so soon?” Hank gasps in disbelief, raising his head to look at your daughter jumping on that twig, “Normally it would be until their teen years.”

You chuckle, “Missing out on the latest Bio lab, aren’t you? They just published a paper about how mutant parents would cause a higher rate of mutant children, and as a result, their abilities tend to show earlier. Even so,” you kick the sand under your feet, your voice less exciting, “Hers is showing earlier than I did.”

“You showed your ability when you were five, right?”

“Two months till five. But yeah, pretty early. She made the light in our room flick on and off, starting from a month ago.” You make one last attempt at your daughter, who is having her fun with those thick rocket boots on her feet, “Be a sweetheart and come down, alright? Mommy is getting tired and we haven’t had dinner yet.” You plead softly.

“Alright, Mommy.” The little girl answers.

As Steve watches from afar, worrying sick that your daughter would fall from the tree, she spreads her arms and falls from the tree. But like a piece of paper, descending slowly into your arms.

Absorbing gravity to cancel it out. One of your typical moves too. Steve thinks bitterly. No doubt the little girl is your daughter.

Hank offers something as you three walk further from Steve and the bush he’s hiding. Steve didn’t quite catch what he said, but he hears you reply with a certain “Yes”.

Your voice trails away, “But it’ll be fine. Won’t we, little monkey?”

The little girl giggles again.

“Do you want Daddy back, Mommy?” Your daughter Maddie asks abruptly as you take out the storybook before bed.

“I-” It would be a lie, to say that you do not want Steve. But years have gone by and you’ve built your life around Maddie and Krakoa. While you were desperate, wanting him back when you found yourself pregnant with Maddie, the night when he left your house, you knew that the only reason Steve would stick around, which is knowing that you are pregnant. Despite the responsibility he would be burdened with, he would also doubt whether he’s raising some other people’s child, since he already suspects that you were cheating, and your life would be miserable with his indifference.

You remember your panicking and fearing his leave.

Thinking that he can’t leave you, not when you are pregnant, not when you are working on a home and a shelter for your future children, trying to create a safe haven for you and your family.

But he left.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You tuck a strand of her blonde curls behind her ears, gazing into her beautiful cerulean eyes, “I hurt your father really bad when I made the big mistake that we talked about. And he hurt me too. Not that he wanted to, but he left me alone in this world.” You kiss her short chubby hand, placing her hand on your cheek, “We won’t be happy ever again. Because I lied to him. And he will always remember it.”

“Oh.” Maddie sounds disappointed, scrunching her little face together, “But Daddy knows you are doing the right thing, right? Building Kra-Kra-Krakoa and our home?”

She tried a few times to pronounce the word “Krakoa”, making you smile.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You explain to her with more patience than you can ever imagine, “I have never seen your father ever since.”

“He should!” Your daughter curls herself up into a ball in your arms, nuzzling your soft pyjamas, “He should be proud of you. And what you did. You help build the island, Mommy. Daddy should know. And he will forget your lying.”

Kids. Always thinking everything in the world is so simple. A small grin creeps up your lips.

But in your heart, the bitterness swirls into a dark pit.

Everyone else understood. Other mutants who had a family, who told their partners they will be gone for a while, who lied to their partners that they were needed for a job.

Their partners did. Their partners understood the cruelty of separation and the pain that those mutants cannot utter a word about their whereabouts, or the details of the job. The worst you’ve heard of, aside from yourself as an example, was a huge fight between Lorna and her boyfriend, but in the end, she forgave him after a week, having enough trust for both of them to continue their relationship and got married two years ago.

But no. Not Steve.

Steve, who quickly jumped to the conclusion that there was no need to continue this marriage.

Steve, after leaving word of divorcing you, left. To some shit-eating place in South Africa, for two whole months.

Two months. Two months of prying eyes and prodding questions from the Avengers, which you knew they were being kind and helpful, but you couldn’t stay there. Not when it brought pain and scars to your chest every time you’d see some possession that belonged to him, and cry your eyes out, nearly losing Maddie as a result. Not when they were also suspecting that you cheated on Steve and scolding you lightly, telling you to “speak to Steve and ask for his forgiveness”.

They were his family. Not really yours.

Yours is here.

You kiss her forehead, tucking her in, “I sure hope so. Good night, sweetheart.”

Your smile fades as your mind drifts to the human delegation that is alleged to arrive today.

You asked to be kept out of the loop and out of the trails that the delegation is visiting. You even confirmed with Hank today that you would take these three days off from the lab.

You blocked all relevant information regarding those visitors.

You were raised by this mutant family, by mutants such as Jean and Hank and befriended them, and you had your heart broken in the human world. You don’t want anywhere near humans ever again.

“These are some state-of-the-art devices. I have to say, I’m very impressed.” Tony tilts his head to the side, reading the metrics recorded on the screen in the up-state Bio lab, “This is not quite my expertise though, the project you are operating here.”

Hank magnifies the part Tony is observing onto the huge screen behind them, “We are trying to incorporate human thoughts into robots, but in a wireless form. With a thought-” Hank, the man in glasses, places two stickers onto his head, and a robotic arm on the far end of the lab begins writing “Welcome”, stopping dead when it comes to “O”. Hank shrugs, not even bothered by the failure of the demonstration, “We have a talented specialist that helps with coding, but there are always some interferences with the transmission.”

Natasha clears her throat to gain their attention, “I’m also very impressed with the construction of the island as a whole. A construction this large should take … what, five years and a couple hundred workers?”

“Two and a half, to be precise.” Hank gestures for them to move forward onto the Physics lab, peeling the stickers off his temple, “About three dozen mutants involved. It would be sooner if it weren’t…” As if he suddenly was reminded of something, Hank let out a short “Ah”, and a brief pause, “if it weren’t some … unintentional held-up with one of our finest mutants.” His eyes land on sulking Steve, only for a few seconds.

Hank said it with a proud smile on his face. It didn’t take Steve forever to recognize the man from the beach last night, who gave your daughter, very irresponsibly, Steve might add, rocket boots.

Your daughter’s father is very irresponsible too. Not even showing up when your daughter is in danger. He thinks, clenching his jaw, praying for strength that he would punch that guy in the face if he ever meets him.

Natasha and Tony exchange a glance behind Hank, failing to notice Steve and his stern expressions.

“But it must have been a huge effort, even with three dozen, to keep them silent?” Natasha jokes light-heartedly, “There’s hardly any secret in the Avengers Compound without the full staff knowing it in three days.”

Hank nods politely, holding the door for them to come through, “Well, yes. But as you are well aware, a few of our best mutants are telepathic, meaning they could plant a gag order in our heads,” Hank taps his temple with his knuckle, “We couldn’t speak to anyone else about Krakoa for three years until it’s established. Our mind forbade us to speak of it because of the gag order.”

“Masochists, and they are proud of it,” Natasha whispers to Tony in a rush.

“It is troubling. Misunderstandings and arguments have aroused based on the gag order and its implementation.” Hank walks them through the long hallway from one building to another, “But we agreed it’s for the best at that moment.”

Tony makes a face that isn’t as obvious, but Steve and Natasha could tell that’s his disapproving face.

As Hank opens another door for them, the first thing they see is a little girl playing with her toy car on a tall chair. She slides the car down from a colorful track, and the track would deliver the toy car back to her hands.

“Maddison!” Hank rushes to her side, looking up and down to see whether the girl got hurt, “What are you doing here?”

“Mommy needs to pick up something.” Maddie points at you, cheering, “Look! Mommy Mommy!” She drops her toy car to the ground, and jumps off the tall chair, running to you and hugging your thigh.

Steve stops breathing. Seeing you, well and alive in front of him, with your daughter, in a rosy-pink dress that you bought while dating him a few years back.

You look … the same.

“Get behind me, Maddie.” You tug the little girl on her arm, to have her shielded fully behind your legs. An undetectable shakiness in your voice.

Maddie peeks from behind you. She doesn’t understand where this tension is coming from, but she understands one thing: “Mommy, is that Daddy?” She raises her head and asks.

You hate to lie to your daughter. But you are not going to let her be exposed to Natasha and Tony, and most importantly, Steve.

“Christ. It’s Y/N.” Tony mutters.

“Mommy, he looks exactly like the photo you showed me.” Maddie asks in confusion, pointing towards Steve, “He looks exactly like Daddy?”

“Maddison, not now.” It takes all your willpower not to push them all out of the lab at once, “Hank, would you mind?” You glance icily at Hank, urging him to solve the problem at hand.

“Yes, of course.” Hank starts to head the other way, “I’m sorry, but we’re behind schedule. If you would come with me-”

“No one is coming anywhere until we deal with this,” Tony announces, one hand already on his wristwatch, which you know contains a small plasma canon if he activates it.

“Is she…?” Steve knows the answer to his question before he asks. The hair and the eyes are similar to his, and the nose and lips resemble yours-

“Boys,” Natasha raises her voice, “Let’s be civil, shall we?”

“How old is she?” Steve feels a lump down his throat, “is she-”

“Civil?” You let out a dry laugh, the exact opposite of amused, “Tony Fucking Stark is ready to attack when he pulls out that wristwatch. And Natasha, long time no see, the same goes for your widow bites too. Yeah, I saw the glowing blue under your sleeves. You are trying to take my child away from me in a heartbeat and call yourself civil?”

“Tony, Nat.” Steve speaks.

Two words that bring the two of them away from their weapons.

You pick Maddie up from the ground, having your back to the Avengers, protecting your daughter from their grasp, “Let’s go, Maddie. I am apparently not welcomed here.”

“Y/N!” Steve calls to your back, “Y/N, please!”

Natasha is tempted to step forward and ask you to stay and talk this out, being blocked by Hank.

“I assume it is best that you stay right where you are,” Hank says politely, though his thin body has no intention of moving.

Maddie hugs your neck, laying her head on your shoulders. Her blue eyes focusing on Steve while you walk away.

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[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 6

Little Birdie

Series masterlist

Previous part: Rearview next part: Twinkles

Word Count: 7,800

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts, anxiety, and sever depression.

One week.

Steve made it one whole week without you.

It was one of the longest weeks of his life.

Every day for seven days straight he needed Bucky to convince him not to text or call you. That conversation usually happened as Steve paced around his living room, while Bucky sat on his couch, threatening to get up and rip the phone out of his hands.

He couldn't even text you outside of work hours considering you blocked his number from being able to do so, but that still didn't stop the itch he felt to just see your name on his phone screen again.

Both boys were in agreement that Steve eventually should reach out and try to fix the damage that was done, because if your situation at the compound needed to get better just for the chance that you would stay, you at least needed your best friends back. But Bucky knew you deserved time and space away from all of the drama to really process it and figure out how you wanted it to end.

Bucky also knew a week of no contact with Steve would help the both of you stop fueling the fire. The harsh words would settle, reflecting back on the situation wouldn't feel as dramatic, and maybe now Steve would finally find the right words without the sight of you every day.

Plus, he would be damned if he let Steve have a conversation this serious with you over the phone.

Sure, both boys were extremely worried about you. There were a few times Bucky wanted to call and check up on you too, but he knew his own feelings shouldn't come before yours right now.

Meanwhile, the week did you wonders. You spent your days reconnecting with everything you used to love. Your favorite restaurants in the area, old friends you barely got to see now that you lived so far, the old yoga studio you attended 4 times a week, and seeing your family every day was healing in ways you didn't even know your heart could reach.

Filling the mornings and afternoons with everything you loved was important, but you knew better than to completely disregard the real issues at hand. So every night you'd go on a walk to the pretty park a few blocks from your childhood home, and meditate under the moon.

With the one airpod you had left, you'd let music shuffle and allow the lyrics to guide your thoughts. Some were a little to sad to bare, others were so on the nose you couldn't help but to listen over and over again while allowing the words to comfort you like a hug you've really been needing.

You and Steve were still friends and shared a playlist on your favorite music streaming app. Every night at the park you could see he was listening to sad music, and knew he could see you doing the same. Dramatic? Maybe. Were the sad melodies making you feel understood and less alone? Absolutely.

Eventually he got brave and while you sat under the moon and admired the stars, your headphones read the newest notification.

Steve Rogers added new song to playlist: Little Freak by Harry Styles.

You sighed, but against your better judgement you let the song play to understand what he was trying to say to you. Though the song was familiar to you, all this music was new to Steve. He loved listening to all your favorite artists and bonding over the modern music. The message was loud and clear when you heard it.

"I was thinking about who you are, your delicate point of view, I was think about you. I'm not worried about where you are or who you will go home too, I'm just thinking about you. I disrespected you, jumped in feet first and I landed too hard. Broken ankle, karma rules."

You knew deep down that you shouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. He didn't deserve to be invading your sacred space, he knew how much music meant to you. But on the other hand, he deserved to know how much he hurt you. If he got to send you a message through song, you deserved to speak your mind too.

So you added a new song to the playlist as well. My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift.

"Even on my worst day, did I deserve babe, all the hell you gave me? Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you till my dying day. I didn't have it in myself to go with grace. You're the hero flying around saving face. If I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed? Look at how my tears ricochet."

After that, your phone was silent and nothing else was added to your playlist. You could see he listened to the song, then once it was over he was no longer active on the app.

You'd usually let your mind really reflect on what happened and what you wanted going forward, but you found that Steve took up most of your thoughts, and what to do about your career always came second to him.

It seems like your Mom and Dad's advice always leaned towards joining the Avengers. But why wouldn't it? All they ever wanted for you was to find something you love and run as far as you could with it.

Jane would've preferred you leave the field completely. You knew the nature of your job left her in a permanent state of unease about your safety, but you always reassured her that you were in good hands so you'd be okay.

Nathan was a little more understanding that not everything was so black and white, so he played devils advocate for all sides, and of course Luca wanted you to join the Avengers.

Hearing all of their perspectives was helpful to see the bigger picture, but at the end of the day, only Jane and Nathan knew the extent of what happened. You kept the whole Steve and Bucky situation away from your parents for the same reason you kept it away from Luca, you didn't want to ruin the illusion of a superhero for them.

Also.... Your parents really didn't need to know the nitty gritty on your escapades with the winter soldier.

All good things came to an end, especially having your whole family under one roof. After a whole week together, Jane, Nathan, and Luca had to go home to get back to their own life, while your mom and dad left to go on a few day vacation they had planned months ago. So it left you, and the family dog, Rocket, you happily agreed to take care of in their absence.

It was actually kind've nice to have time to yourself. You filled the day with morning yoga, brunch with a friend, some journaling and therapy, and a much needed nap. As the sun went down, you threw a toy around the house to try and get Rocket's energy out but it didn't help much. So after you cooked and ate dinner, you grabbed a tennis ball and walked him a few blocks to the park.

Luckily he was allowed off leash, and there was one other dog there for a little while that took an immediate liking to him, so they ran around and tuckered each other out while you sat on the grass and watched.

Eventually his little friend left, so it left just the two of you, the tennis ball, and the twinkling stars above head.

As lame as it felt to admit, the small spotty brown dachshund filled your soul with so much joy that you couldn't wipe the smile off your face. Throwing the ball, and watching his little legs carry him so far, so fast with tiny little hops was definitely one of the cutest things you've seen in a while.

He was a brave and trusting little creature in most aspects of life, but when the rumble of an approaching motorcycle got a little too loud for his liking, Rocket came running back to your side with his tail between his legs.

Sitting by your side, you picked him up and held him close to your chest while speaking calming words to him that he definitely didn't understand. You pressed little kisses to his forehead, and he licked your cheek in return causing you to laugh.

Feeling a little annoyed that the motorcycle pulled into the parking area for the park you were occupying on your own, you stayed vigilant of your surroundings. Fully prepared to leave when the man got off the bike, you set Rocket down and started reaching for his leash before the dog started running towards the man who was now walking towards the both of you.

"Hey! Rocket, no!" You jumped up from your spot to chase after the irrationality fast weenie. Tail wagging, and happy wiggles took over his little body as he hopped up on his back two legs to greet the stranger. "I'm so sorry! He usually never does this, I don't know why he's... oh."

I'm front of you stood none other than Steve Rogers himself, looking delectable and cozy in a cute teal crewneck and some casual pants with sneakers on. You immediately had a billion and one questions, but he was very obviously taken by Rocket who was also very obviously taken by Steve. There was a serious love as first sight situation happening as Steve leaned down with a big smile on his face to say hi to the little dog.

"It's okay!" Steve giggled, squatting down to get closer to Rocket. "He soooo stinkin' cute!"

"What are you doing here?" You asked, feeling throughly confused, and immediately feeling a little defensive and protective.

When he looked up at you, your arms crossed over your chest as a form of self soothing. It had been so long since you felt this uncomfortable energy, and having it ripple through your body once more felt like reconnecting with an old friend.

"Oh, I was just in the area." Steve said sarcastically, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

"Right." You agreed. "Casually in the area two hours away from home... on a motorcycle?"

"An hour and 45 minutes is only an hour and 20 on a bike." Steve noted with a shy smile.

"And how did you know that this area you so happened to be in was the same place I was, even though I never told anyone where I was?" You tilted your head to the side.

"Oh, it's easy. A little birdie told me." Steve noted.

"What was the bird's name?"

"That's not important." He denied, still smiling at the dog but standing to his full height.

"I don't know, feels kind've important to me." You hated that you had to hold back a smile as you looked at him. And you hated even more that you couldn't stop thinking about how stupidly cute he looked with helmet hair and a cozy crewneck on.

"Do you want to sit and chat?" Steve asked, suddenly seeming nervous. "...if not that's fine we can talk a different time if you want."

"You came all this way just to talk?" You questioned.

Steve swallowed nervously as he nodded.

“You could've called me." You challenged.

"Sometimes I think the old fashioned way of doing things is better." He shrugged. "...Also you blocked my phone number after work hours."

You sighed and pointed to your blanket on the grass. "Sit."

He quickly nodded and obeyed your orders. He sat first, and you sat next to him, Rocket trailed behind with the tennis ball in his mouth before happily handing it to Steve.

"Who is this little guy?" Steve asked, throwing the ball for him.

"Rocket"

"Like the raccoon?"

“No, he's my parent's dog. They just thought the name suited him. But they're out of town for the next 3 days so he's mine until then." You explained.

"I heard you spent some time with your family. You look a lot happier, do you feel better?"

"So Jane was the birdie who told you where I was." You noted.

"Will not confirm nor deny."

"Mmm" you hummed, reading between the lines. "Yes, it was very nice spending time with people who love me. I do feel a lot better, but it's going to take a lot longer than a week to heal from everything that happened."

"Of course it will, but all that matters is that it's getting a little better everyday." Steve noted. "I don't know if this helps, but I think I put the fear of the devil into Harvey and all his friends. Should you choose to come back, I don't think they would be an issue for you anymore."

"Do I even want to know what you did to them?" You asked.

"I don't think the details really matter too much right now." Steve shrugged once more.

A very uncomfortable silence fell over the two of you, so you threw the ball for Rocket this time.

"Would you like to talk about the hard stuff?" Steve raised.

"Can't we just talk about the weather?" You complained, dreading the inevitable.

"It's pretty chilly out tonight." Steve noted. "You're not cold?"

"Nope." You exaggerated the P at the end of the word.

"Good chat." Steve giggled at the astronomical amount of discomfort and awkwardness you were exuding. "This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it."

"I haven't cried in a few days." You told him. "I'm dreading losing my streak."

"Crying is healthy, and so is expressing emotions." Steve told you. "For example, I really missed you and I've been worried about you for a while now, so I'm here to express that."

"Oh, so you weren't just in the area?" You questioned.

"I took my motorcycle to get to you as fast as I could, because I waited a whole week and every single day that passed by without me giving you a much needed apology was killing me slowly with an amount of guilt I didn't even know was possible for a human being to feel. So no, I was absolutely nowhere near the area."

"Was that the apology?"

"No." Steve denied. "I'm really sorry for everything that's happened. I feel like every interaction I've had with you this past month has been a really bad reflection of my character. I should've went about the whole situation with a lot more logic and understanding, and I should've just listened to you and Bucky before letting anger get the best of me. It wasn't fair to you."

Your eyes stayed fixed on Rocket as he hopped around the grass, he watched you slowly nod while processing his words. "I never meant to hurt your feelings, and if I knew back then what I knew now, Bucky and I would've never..."

"I know." Steve saved you from having to finish that statement. "And our last training was just... completely unacceptable. I wish there was a logical explanation as to why I was so upset that day. Quite honestly, every time I even start to think about it I feel just horribly embarrassed and completely mortified. I'm sorry for not listening to you and telling you that I didn't care. I'm sorry for scaring you and completely breaking your trust. Most importantly I'm really fucking sorry for hurting you. I should've listened better and walked you to medical the second you said something, and the fact that I only made it worse has kept me awake every night since it happened."

"Bucky said you were having a tough few days." You noted.

"It doesn't matter." Steve declined. "I need to do better than that, and I will. You were having some really hard days too, but you never used it as a reason to treat me like shit."

“I was pretty shitty to you."

"But within reason."

"I told you to ignore my existence, called you some not so nice names, yelled at you a few times..."

"Because I pushed you to that level of anger."

"The fact of the matter is that you felt that way because you felt disregarded and disrespected by Bucky and I, and for that, I'm sorry too." You apologized. "I know you weren't interested in hearing me out before when this all happened, and at the time none of the words really came out right. So if you're open to it, I feel like I'd really like a chance to explain the choices I made."

"Of course." Steve practically whispered with a subtle nod, throwing the ball once more for the dog. "But don't feel obligated to. I don't think I would've come all this way if I hadn't already forgiven you."

"This is never going to get better if we don't talk about it." You used his own words against him.

"Ah, so you do think we could make it better?" Steve asked.

"Why wouldn't I want it to get better?"

Steve sighed. "You made it pretty clear in a few different ways that you didn't want me as a friend or even around you at all anymore. A big part of me was expecting you to turn me away for good when I showed up here."

"Oh... sorry." You mumbled sadly, suddenly feeling bad about all the words you shouted at him out of pure, hot red anger.

"S'okay."

"Growing up, I was never really the center of attention for anything. I was never good at anything, I got straight B's in school, I had 2 friends at most. Even as I got older and went through high school I wasn't paid much attention to. I never had a boyfriend, I struggled a lot to make friends, once I even went to my teacher to ask him a question 4 months into senior year and he thought I was a new student even though I had been sitting in the second row of his class every single day."

"...yikes." Steve cringed.

"Yikes is right." You agreed. "I never thought I would exceed at anything at all in life. My big plans were finding a 5-9 desk job to make ends meet then just keep going until I didn't have to anymore. Then I discovered the joy of helping people, realized maybe I'm not all that bad at it, and before I knew it I was at Shield. Then all of the sudden I went from never getting much attention my entire life, to having all eyes on me at all times. I was being held to impossibly high standards, the boys wouldn't leave me alone, it felt like regardless of where I was in the building, there was this big huge spotlight on me."

Rocket had finally gotten too tired to play with his ball, so he came back to you and Steve, and laid down right next to Steve's leg. "Even I was hearing about you before you had made it to high enough ranks to work with me."

"Getting no male attention your whole life will kind've mess you up a bit, but going from no male attention to getting thrown into the compound where only a handful of other women work will mess you up a lot."

"Like throwing a zebra into a pack of lions."

"Even that feels like an understatement." You grinned. "Harvey was the first guy I met that didn't feel like he was going to eat me alive, so I stuck with him."

"He was your first boyfriend?" Steve asked, sounding genuinely appalled.

"He was my first everything." You admitted shyly. "I thought he was one of the good ones, like that one boy you waited your whole life for. But obviously I was stupid, and that turned out to be one of the bigger mistakes of my life."

"He's the stupid one, not you." Steve denied.

"When I met you and Bucky, it was a big breath of fresh air. You guys helped me realize that Harvey was bad for me, but at that point I was already convinced he would be the only guy who would ever be stupid enough to fall in love with me. So I stayed way longer than I should've, but in the meantime I felt like I had opened up to you and Bucky far more than I ever had to Harvey. We started training together and talking more, and at that point I felt like I had given you so much more of myself than I had ever given anyone else in my life. Which I know sounds odd, but we were having these really good conversations that made me feel really vulnerable but in a good way, and we had built so much trust and understanding of each other that I never had to question what your intentions were when you were around."

Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. That was the only word Steve could think of at the moment. How he felt, how he treated you, how he made you feel, he was an asshole.

"I'll spare you details, but after Harvey and I officially called it quits obviously I was really fucking sad. I wanted to see you, but you were away on a mission and I just needed to be with a friend so I went to Bucky's place instead. I had all of this new found freedom, paired with this gut wrenching feeling that I was going to be alone and unloved for the rest of my life, and a good friend in front of my face who was just so kind and gentle...things just happened. I wasn't the one to initiate, but I definitely didn't put a stop to it because for once it was really nice to feel wanted. We didn't even kiss or see each other naked, it felt like less of a big deal to me and far less vulnerable or intimate than most of the stunts and challenges I let you guide me through in training. Bucky and I weren't trying to be malicious and we had no bad intentions in our choice to not tell you, I was just afraid that you wouldn't understand and that you'd take it the wrong way. Which, with all due respect, you didn't understand and by the time I even got a chance to try to explain it to you, we were both so angry and defensive that none of the words would come out right."

Working up the courage to look at Steve to gauge any sort of emotional reaction from him, his face was full of remorse as his eyes stayed set on the dog as his hands gently pet his long body and scratched the top of his head.

You took the chance to take a deep breath and let your palm sink into the fluffy park grass, one last ditch effort to ground yourself before the getting into the hardest part of the conversation. "That fear of misunderstanding and miscommunication is exactly why you didn't tell me or Bucky or anyone for that matter that you liked me. And just like how the information about what Bucky and I did got to you in the wrong way at the wrong time, that information got to me in the very wrong way at the very wrong time. And just like you, I didn't understand, and I felt hurt and betrayed because of it."

You watched Steve's cheeks turn red before he hid his face in his hands and let out a groan, earning a little smile from you that he couldn't even see. "Can we just talk about the weather again?"

"Sure thing." You agreed. "I think I lied to you on accident, because now I am kind've cold."

"Wow I'll never forgive you." He joked dryly, mumbling into the palms of his hands.

"That's okay, we can add it to the list of dumb shit we gotta talk through." You giggled. "Well, seems like that covers the weather category again. Are you ready to come out of hiding?"

He peeked one eye out between his fingers. "No. I kind've wish the floor would swallow me whole right now."

"Wow, I didn't think that you had a weak spot, but I found it." You enthused.

Although it was at much too high a cost, seeing a genuine smile on your face for the first time in over a month was like a big breath of fresh air to Steve.

"I'm not covering my ears, I can still hear you perfectly fine. Please continue." He grumbled.

"Just to put you out of your misery and conclude that horrifically long sob story I just subjected you to..." You started. "I was only hurt in that moment because after fooling around with Bucky and getting the information that you liked me sprung on me, it felt like I had lost the only two people in the compound who didn't see me as or treat me like an object of some weird sexual fantasy. Part of me even felt mad and embarrassed at myself for believing that we could've been friends without you guys seeing me that way. Plus, I had all those people in the compound already saying the only reason I was getting so far in my career was because I was sleeping with you, and I so desperately didn't want them to be right. So, all of that being said, I'm sorry too, I should've never been so mean to you. I'm sorry that Bucky and I hurt you, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not letting you explain yourself while accusing you of things you'd never do."

"Like I said earlier, I already forgave you." Steve slowly let his hands fall from his face, cheeks still stained a pretty pink color.

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve an apology." You reminded him. "We both hurt each other, it's not fair for you to take all the blame."

"I feel like I'm going to throw up" Steve took a deep breath.

"Don't do that" you shook your head. "Please don't throw up."

"I hope you know that our friendship has always meant a lot to me, and absolutely none of it was a scheme to sleep with you." Steve braved through the hard part of the conversation he absolutely wished he never had to think about again.

"Yeah, I do now." You reassured him. "I'm sorry I said that."

"I really just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Steve explained. "Especially in an environment where you were already getting eaten alive. Plus I was your boss, and you had Harvey, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship... and, yeah, I dunno. It was just a mess. I didn't tell Bucky because I didn't want him to tell me to tell you. He figured it out on his own, by the way. Apparently my eyes twinkle too much, whatever that means."

"I'm not uncomfortable, and yeah, you do have really twinkly eyes." You grinned.

"I guess that's your fault" Steve jokingly sassed.

"Oh so now we're pointing fingers?" You took fake offense.

"From this point on, I'd really like it if everyone could just ignore the twinkle in my eyes so we can all get back to being friends like we were before." Steve said, giving you a really easy escape to officially denying him.

"But I think the twinkles are so pretty!" You enthused, giggling when you could practically see his heart drop.

"You shouldn't be saying things like that when you know I already feel like throwing up." Steve shook his head and clutched his stomach.

"But I mean it." You confirmed. "Knowing what I know now, why would we ever go back to being how we were before?"

Steve swallowed thickly, then his hands started exaggerated movements to further get his point across. "I'm trying to give you an easy way out of telling me you don't want me back in the same way."

"I understand, but that wouldn't be true." You giggled. "I do remember you stating very clearly that you aren't my boss anymore, am I remembering that correctly?"

"No, technically I'm not you b-" He rambled quietly.

"Do we think this would do anything to harm our sweet little Bucky boy?"

"No. He's been going out with Natasha and has been trying to get me to ask y-"

"You we're so kind as to cut me some deals, so I've got one for you too. Let's take some time to let everything settle and heal over, then when the time is right, we'll explore more of that little twinkle, alright?"

"Okay." Steve nodded wide eyed and enthusiastic.

"Yeah? Are you going to throw up?" You questioned with a smile.

"Maybe only a little bit." He continued nodding.

"I guess that's better than a lot-a-bit" you justified.

"So we're okay?" Steve asked, twinkly eyed and puppy dogged face.

"We're okay." You confirmed. "Can I give you a hug? You look like you really need it."

Steve opened his arms for you, and you both had to awkwardly lean over Rocket who was instantly stayed tucked next to his leg. Embracing him tightly, you realized just how badly you needed it too.

Both unwilling to let go for a little while, you took the time to appreciate his body heat that was a stark difference between the cold air outside.

"I'm sorry." Steve quietly apologized again.

"It's okay. I'm sorry too." You accepted. "I really missed you, Stevie."

"I missed you too, Bug. I've been so worried about you lately." One of his hands was very sweetly rubbing your back.

"Sorry." You sighed. "I've been trying my best."

"I know. That doesn't make me worry any less."

"I love you." You reminded him for the first time in a while.

Steve relaxed and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding onto. "I love you more."

Although you could've hugged him forever, the two of you mutually unwrapped yourself from each other.

"How is your shoulder?" He questioned remorsefully.

"Oh, it's fine." You told him. "It feels so much better. I've been doing yoga all week and it's held up nicely."

"Good, that's good." He nodded. "And have you put any thought into what you're going to do about your job?"

"Everyone seems to want me to do something different." You sighed. "I've been coming here almost every night just to think about it. It's really nice that the sprinklers don't turn on at 10 pm."

“What do you want to do?"

"I think I know what I want, but I'm really scared of making the jump." You explained.

"I'm not here to talk you in or out of anything, I was just curious." Steve grinned. "You still have the rest of the week to think it through. But just know that I have no doubt in your ability to handle a big scary jump"

"I can usually only handle big scary jumps because most of the time, you're down at the bottom waiting to catch me." You admitted.

"Well regardless of what you choose, I'll still always be here for you." Steve reminded you sweetly. "I just hope you do what you think is best for you, and not what other people want you to do."

“That's the thing, I don't think I know what's good for me."

"Are you kidding me? You have great intuition." Steve said. "Your just need to gain back trust for that little voice in your head that's telling you what to do."

"The same voice that bullies me every day?!" You asked with a giggle. "Absolutely not, she gets no say in any of my choices nowadays."

Steve close lipped smiled at you, his dimples setting deep into his chiseled cheeks. "Then forget you even have a brain and listen to your heart."

"She's also been really problematic recently." You noted. "I don't like her very much right now."

His smile turned into a pout. "That sounds like a very tough thing to not like about yourself."

"Tell me about it." You agreed. "But we're working on it."

"Once again, I guess that's all that matters." Steve noted. "So you can't make a big decision with your heart or your head, and your shoulder is out of the question. We're running low on body parts."

"Maybe I'll let Rocket make the choice for me." You grinned at the sleepy dog.

"I think Rocket should be an Avenger... actually, I think Rocket should come home with me and be my dog instead." Steve smiled, petting the dog once more.

"My parents would hunt you down for sport if you ever took this dog." You giggled. "He's their favorite child."

"But I love him!" Steve pouted like a child. "He's just so fucking cute! Have you seen these ears?!"

"No pets allowed at the compound" You reminded him, nudging his arm. "Maybe that's all the more reason to quit."

“I think that's reason to break the rules, not to quit." Steve corrected.

"Captain America suggesting I break the rules?!" You questioned with a gasp.

"Am I not the same man who's whole career was founded off of breaking the law?" Steve questioned right back. "When have I ever followed the rules?"

"Wow, bad to the bone."

"That sounded sarcastic." He noted as his eyebrow raised in question.

"Me? Sarcastic? Never." You denied.

Rocket readjusted to get more comfortable, but crawled into the hole within Steve's crossed legs and curled up into a little ball in his lap, with his head resting on his thigh.

"Okay that's it." Steve declared, fists balling up to keep himself from unleashing his cuteness aggression on the creature in the form of hugging him so tight his eyes popped out of his head like a stress ball. "I can't take this anymore. How bad would your parents beat me up if I stole this dog? Because really, I think I could take the beating."

"I simply cannot express to you how much taking this dog away from my parents is not an option." You laughed at his question. "I think my Mom would run you over with her car."

"No way she would do that." Steve shook his head. "She was so nice when I met her!"

"She would not be nice if you stole her weenie." You pointed out.

"Come on, she gave me a hug. No mom that's giving out free hugs could ever hit me with a car."

"That's where you're wrong. Because any woman that has so much love for her kids would do anything to seek rightful justice if you did anything to fuck with them." You corrected him. "Even if she's five foot nothing, and you're Captain America. Don't mess with her baby."

“Oh no" Steve's eyes went wide.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh shit." He panicked. "Do your parents hate me?"

"No? Why would they hate you?" You questioned with a nervous laugh.

"Because I accidentally fucked with your Mom's baby and now she's going to do anything to seek rightful justice." Steve clutched the fabric of his sweater right over his chest. "The throw up is coming back."

"I didn't tell them anything about you or Bucky, other than that you didn't let me quit right in the spot." You explained. "They love you and all of the Avengers too much for me to ever ruin their perception of the people who make them feel safe."

"So why do they think you're here?" Steve asked.

"I only told them about Harvey and the general issues I'm having with all of the other agents."

"Your sister knows." He said. "She made a weird comment..."

"She always makes weird comments, that's just what makes Jane, Jane." You smiled. "Yes, she knows, but she likes you a lot. I think she even took your side, she's been advocating for you the whole time."

"She's going to tell your mom, and your mom is going to hunt me for sport."

"No she won't, and even if she does find out about it, she's a very rational person. As long as we're fine, she's fine." You explained. "Look I'll prove it to you, say cheese!"

Quickly taking your phone out of your pocket and pointing the camera at Steve and Rocket, he smiled and you snapped a picture. He watched you type away for a few moments.

You sent the picture in a group chat with your mom and dad, then immediately got a response.

"See! Look! I said, look who came by to hang out with your favorite child." You giggled at your screen, turning it towards him so show that you sent them the picture. "My mom responded and said omg, Dad is honored. We don't know who is cuter, Rocket or Captain Rogers."

"Okay now ask if I can steal the dog." His cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.

"I thought the point was to make sure my mom liked you" You laughed, locking your phone and putting it on the grass besides you. "Trust that I'm doing you a favor."

"Fine, but I'm not happy about it." He joked.

"I didn't know you felt so passionately about wieners, Steven." You giggled.

"What can I say? There's nothing better than kicking back and playing with a wiener." He ran with your joke.

"A nice, long wiener."

"This is ridiculous" Steve's face scrunched up, earning more of your adorable laughter.

Like no time had passed, you and Steve sat and chatted away for a few hours. You could tell the comfortable conversation was helping him resolve his own internal guilt, so you were happy to stay and chat for as long as he needed. But selfishly, you missed him more than you ever wanted to admit to yourself.

His adorable smile and pretty pink cheeks lit up a part of your heart that you had felt so disconnected from for so long now. And as the night grew colder, and significantly later, he couldn't just ignore the occasional chills that would make you momentarily shiver. You kept ignoring them and playing them off just to spend more time with your sweet friend, but eventually you ended up tucked underneath his arm and snuggled up to his side for warmth while Rocket stayed glued to his lap.

There was little you could do to ignore how comfortable and familiar it felt to be sharing warmth with the soldier. By all means, both Steve and Bucky were touchy people on a normal day to day basis, plus all of the training you did with Steve made you very comfortable with his skin on yours.

But this was different. His head that nestled on top of yours that rested on his shoulder, his big hand on the top of you arm keeping you close and snug against him, paired the gentle and quiet volume in his voice wasn't just friendly.

His hold was apologetic, and almost regretful. It was reconnecting, and mending. You could feel all of his unspoken words seeping out from his warm body to into your cold one, and you wondered if he could feel the same thing happening to him through your timid hand resting between his shoulder blades.

Just based on his calm breaths, but still racing pulse that you could feel on his neck, you knew it was different for him too.

But it was a good different, a hopeful and very exciting different.

Much like your shivers that you ignored and played off, Steve was trying to mask his yawns. Unfortunately, this was something that you couldn't ignore. Especially when you pressed the button on your phone and the screen informed you that it was already 11:52pm.

"As sad as I am to have to put an end to this, it's already almost midnight and your crazy ass drove an hour and a half here on a motorcycle." You reminded him.

"I just got you back, I don't want to leave you again." He pouted.

"I don't want you to leave either, but I'd prefer if you got home safely." Your timid hand now gently rubbing short stripes on his back. "Or you can stay the night with me here if you'd like."

A sleepy grin overtook the sat pout. "Thank you, but once again I don't want your parents to hate me. Plus I have my stupid annual physical in the morning."

"My parents wouldn't hate you, they'd rather you be safe than drive home tired."

"I'm not that tired, I'll be okay." He reassured you. "And you can't come back to the compound?"

"No, I have to watch Rocket." You reminded him. "But I'll see you in a few days at least. I'll be back before the end of the week."

"Oh, you'll be back?" He raised an eyebrow, challenging your statement.

"To give my official resignation at the very least, or to move all of my stuff into the Avengers sector at the very most. Who's to say what's going to happen?" You giggled.

"Well, when you need help moving let me know. I know a couple guys that can lift a few thousand pounds at a time, it helps the process go by really fast." Steve egged you on.

"Uh huh, I'll keep that in mind." You rolled your eyes with a smile, and wrapped your other arm around his front to squeeze him in a sideways hug. "Thanks for coming all the way here. It was really nice getting to have a conversation with you, I really missed spending time together."

"Of course. Thank you for even giving me the chance to explain myself. If I were you, I don't know of I would be able to be that gracious." He squeezed your shoulder in appreciation.

"There isn't much I wouldn't do for you." You grinned.

"Oh yeah? What wouldn't you do?" Steve questioned with a chuckle.

"I won't let you steal my moms dog." You stated. "Which reminds me, I'm going to need that back."

"Okay, I guess you can have him back. " Steve smiled and picked up the little fur-ball from his lap and placed him on yours instead. "Thanks for letting me play with your wiener."

"Feel free to come back and play with my wiener anytime." You laughed at his joke, unwrapping yourself from him as he started standing up.

"What an incredible offer, thank you" Steve smiled, now standing over you and offering you his hand to help you up.

"Like I said, anytime." You playfully winked.

Quickly putting on Rockets leash, you set the dog on the grass and accepted Steve's hand. He pulled you up effortlessly and bent over to grab your blanket from the grass.

"How far away is your parents house?"  Steve questioned, subconsciously folding the blanket.

"About two blocks" You shrugged.

"Can I walk you guys home?" He asked, eyes twinkling once more as he shoved his hands in his front pockets to keep them warm.

"Absolutely not" You denied.

He was immediately pretending to be offended with a big gasp and hand whipped out of his pocket and over his heart. "Ma'am, it is pitch black out here and it's already midnight."

You laughed at his response. "Sir, it's pitch black and midnight. Your motorcycle is right there. I'm not letting you walk me two blocks in a neighborhood I'm familiar with because that means you'll have to walk another two blocks back here all by yourself somewhere you've never been. Logistically it makes no sense."

Steve puffed and furrowed his eyebrows. "What if some creepy dude comes and tries to mess with you? Huh? Then what?"

"Then I use all my big and scary self defense moves that Captain America taught me." You answered. "Also, do you not see this big scary guard dog? Nobody is going to fuck with me."

His pout deepened. "What if you start walking home and some dude on a motorcycle follows you all the way home?"

"Is that what's going to happen?" You giggled at his question.

"If you keep saying you're not going to let me walk you home then maybe it will." Steve shrugged.

"I've been walking by myself this late every single night for a week now." You told him. "It's always been fine, it'll be fine again."

"Now you're just trying to give me a heart attack." Steve deadpanned, earning your laugh once again.

"So I'm a good enough fighter to be an Avenger, but not good enough to walk to my parents house by myself?" You asked.

"Yes, exactly!" Steve enthused. "So glad we could have this conversation to clear that up, come one let's get you home."

His arm linked around yours and he started walking. "I think you're absolutely out of your mind, but I appreciate you nonetheless."

Looking up at his face just in time, you caught his smile. "The second half of that statement is really the only part that matters to me."

Your steps synched up with his, and Rocket walked ahead of the two of you. "Hey, Stevie?"

"Hmm?"

"If you actually want to get me home, we should be walking in the complete opposite direction" You grinned.

Steve stopped and laughed. "Okay, you lead the way."

You did eventually make it home, and only when you stood on the door step did Steve let your arms disconnect.

"Look we made it here and nobody died!" You enthused. "Do you remember how to get back?"

"Of course I do" Steve giggled at your question. "It wasn't even two full blocks."

"Just making sure" you raised your hands in defense. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I would if I could." His thankful grin showed off the shallow dimples in his cheeks. "See you soon?"

"In a few days" you nodded in confirmation.

He stuck his arms out for one last hug, and you accepted happily. After he let go of you, he bent down to say bye to Rocket.

"Drive save! Text me when you get home." You told him.

Steve's face scrunched up for a second, causing you to look at him in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

"You blocked my phone number" He reminded you with a loud whisper.

"I'll unblock it, but text me when you get home" You giggled.

"Okay great!" Steve smiled big and did a little happy dance. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, love you!"

"Love you more!" He waved as he walked down the driveway.

Next Part: Twinkles

Taglist: @sarangheay @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest

#steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america fluff #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans #steve rogers fanfiction #mcu x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america angst #captain america imagine #captain america fan fiction #captain america smut #captain america drabble #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel fanfic writer #marvel x reader #MCU #the avengers #rogersideup

[marvelcvte]

forbidden touch - steve rogers

*The above image is not intended to force the reader to identify with any of the people in it. Its purpose is to present the concept of the story.*

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader theme: smut warnings: heavy smut (18+, minors dni), handjob (f receiving), oral job (f receiving), edging, praise kink word count: 1,2k summary: you have a crush on steve and he hears you. a/n: hope you like it!! feedback is always appreciated (:

»»————-　　————-««

The feeling of the much needed rest finally assails you as you get comfortable in your bed. The silk sheet embrace you just as perfectly as it always does.

Working out with Steve Rogers is something that you never thought of doing before, but as soon as you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and Nick Fury, that was the first thing they made you do. And apparently they wouldn't let you on a mission without having completed all the sessions.

You weren't complaining at first, since you had a crush on Captain America since the attack of New York. You didn't know him personally yet and you dreamed about him everyday. But after many, many work out sessions you started to hate him.

Not an enemy-like hate, I mean, you don't want him dead. It's more like you-make-me-horny hate. He is so bossy and demanding, and the fact that he turns you on makes you sick.

Of course, seeing him shirtless for four hours straight wasn't helping either. The hand-to-hand combats are the worst. Seeing him so close to you and smelling those nose-filling pheromones and testosterone is why you ended each session horny.

Today is no different. As your head meets the pillow, the only thing you can think about is him. You still imagine those sweaty pecs bouncing every time he jumped, or his arm flexing every time he took a break and drank from his water bottle.

At those thoughts, you find yourself sliding your hand towards your throbbing core. You are not wearing much, just a pair of panties and a sport bra, and this facilitates your eager hands.

Your fingers run on the fabric of your underwear and your legs begin to shake just at the clothed touch. Not so much time passes, that your hand is in your bare, wet folds.

The index finger finds the little button that gives access to your orgasms and it starts to give it round caresses. All your blood rushes between your legs as you speed up the movement. Your lips are parted, but you don't dare make a sound, at the risk of being heard by someone.

As soon as you pick a good rhythm, muffled words exit your mouth. You can't control your vocal cords anymore, since less and less silent moans flood the room.

For this reason, you can't hear the squeaking of the door and the panting of the person resting on the doorjamb. Steve had heard you and he quietly opened the door to see. He is prying on you even though he knew you wouldn't be happy about it.

But something makes him loose his mind and fully enter the room. As soon as he hears you repeat his rank more and more, he decides to get close to you and touch your thigh, without taking his eyes off what you're doing.

"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" you hear him say as soon as you open your eyes, frightened. The first thing you do is sitting down and covering your shame with the blanket.

"Steve... I mean, Mr. Rogers, what are you doing here? You scared me," you stutter. Your blood rush from your core to your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention," he replies, staring directly at your face. "Please, continue what you were doing," he adds at the end.

"What?" the word leaves your mouth too quickly.

"You heard me. Do it, or I'll do it."

His demanding voice enters your ears and then that part of your brain that makes you obey, too clouded by excitement and shame. Your hand returns between your legs and starts moving as fast as before.

You muffle your moans directly down your throat and you close your eyes so as not to look at the Captain. But this is not what he wanted and that's why he wraps his hand around your neck, making your eyes meet his.

Your lips are parted again, this time letting your cries being heard. "That's more like it," he says.

"Now, tell me, do you think of me when you touch yourself?" he asks again. You whine in response, but he growls at you. "Use your words."

And that's what you do. You moan a breathless "yes". The tremor of your thighs increases more and more every time your hand collides with your clit. Tears of excitement form in your eyes and they are fighting to not roll down your cheeks.

"Let me see," Steve says in a very rough voice that should be illegal. With a big gesture, he takes off your blanket, admiring all your lust.

Without further ado, he sits in front of you and his hand takes the place of yours. The wetness of your flesh slips between his fingers as he opens your folds. In a jiffy, his head is between your thighs, testing your flavor.

Your head, instead, is brought back again on your pillow. The room is spinning as the man under you is licking the fuck out of you. His tongue is quick and experienced, as if he had already done what he is doing a thousand times more.

He englobes your clit between his lips, all while his arm is resting on your stomach, holding you still. Your hand travels down your body, into his hair. At this touch, his eyes light up and he stops the pleasure.

You stare down at him with a questioning look. But as soon as he moves away, his fingers enters you without warning. They curl up inside of you, touching every right spot.

"That's what were you dreaming about, uh? You waited for this for so long, didn't you?" he asks you, staring at you, while you can't even utter a word. His movement are fast and your wetness is his natural lube. They come in and out with ease.

Your moans fill the room, and for Steve they're music to his ears. "What's my name, princess?" he asks you.

His fingers speed up, spurring you to answer. His other hand returns on you neck, making your faces too much close. You can feel his breath fanning your open mouth.

"Steve," you finally answer.

"Again," he says.

You repeat it again and again and with every word Steve's fingers increase in speed. From two fingers, to three, until there are four.

Your little hole is stretching around his hand and he can feel your walls clenching as you're near your high.

"I'm close," you warn him, hugging his arm still resting on your neck. In hearing these words, the Captain stops. You give him a nasty look, but he smiles and sits not so far from you.

At the lack of contact your body trembles. "Go ahead and finish what you started," the same commanding voice that you hear in those training session is now used to make you come.

He watches you as your hand is back again on your clit. "Yes, just like that, good job."

It looks like you're back in the gym, but you're sweating for something else. It takes little for you to pour yourself on the bed. You feel relieved and invigorated after an exhausting evening that never seemed to end.

As you open your eyes, coming down from your high, you find Steve still watching you.

"You did great. Next time, keep your voice down if you don't want me to hear you. Or don't."

#marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #steve rogers #captain amerca #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #captain america x fem!reader #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n #captain america smut #captain america fluff #captain america angst

[heaven4lostgirls]

Never Enough (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warning: angst, allusion to breakup, Steve chooses Sharon over reader.

summary: Steve leaves you, thinking you’ll wait for him.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I’ll be honest, this isn’t my best work, but I thought why not get something out because I’m pretty sure the next chapter of mr americana and the heartbreak prince will be a little delayed cus I have so much work to do but I hope this tides you over until them lmao.

part 1, part 2, part 3

“Steve, I swear to god if you walk out that door, we’re done” you say as tears run down your face. It’s radio silent in the Avenger’s compound as Steve stands in front of you about to leave because Sharon had called him because of an ‘emergency.’ After she had found out that you were Steve’s girlfriend, she found ways to come in-between the both of you and somehow, she was succeeding. This was your third fight about Steve just leaving out of nowhere when she called for him, you don’t know how much of this you had in you.

“Don’t be dramatic y/n” he rolls his eyes, “we’ve been over this, she’s just a friend” he says, and you cross your arms over your chest. “Steve, how many times do I need to tell you that she is not just a friend to you? A month ago, she wanted to get into your pants” you raise your voice and Steve’s expression only grows more annoyed, “She doesn’t want me like that anymore!” he says, your expression grows even more annoyed. “If you step a foot out of that door Steve, I won’t be here when you get back” you threaten him and watch as he hesitates before he says,

“She needs me y/n” he pleads with you and tears if frustration line your eyes at his words. “What about me?!” you cry out at him incredulously, “she! Is not your girlfriend Steve! I am!” you throw your hands in the air as tears run down your face in silence and watch as Steve’s irritated demeanour breaks “I’m going y/n, we can talk about this when I get back” he says and slides a hand down his face in exasperation. “Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you dare” you threaten as he again walks to the door. “I’m sorry y/n, I’ll be back” he rushes to the door as he feels his phone buzz again.

As soon as the door to your shared room closes. You’re sliding down the wall as you sob uncontrollably, why was it so easy for him to pick her? Why did he pick her? Why were you never enough?

The rest of the Avengers stand outside your door, hearing your heartbreaking sobs is enough for tony to get Friday to unlock your door before he crouches down next to you, letting you wrap your arms around him and sob into his shirt. “Why wasn’t I enough?” you cry and Tony’s eyes mist over at your heartbroken whisper, he shakes his head as he rubs your back “you are perfect” he whispers as he kisses your forehead. Tony had always been like a father figure to you since you had joined the Avengers, a little older than Peter, he had taken you both under his wing and taught you everything you needed to know.

As much as it hurt all the Avengers to see you so broken, it hurt Tony that much more that this was the one source of pain he couldn’t protect you from. As your anguished sobbing turned into small sniffles, Tony lifts your head and wipes your nose with his sleeve, “eugh” he makes a face and smiles at the small laugh you produce.

You loom around the room to see Peter, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda all standing or sitting in different parts of the room, watching you with sad gazes, you know they’ve probably already heard the entire fight and you find yourself collecting yourself before you stand up with the help of Tony to look at all of them, “I cant stay here” you admit to them. Their faces fall as they realise that this isn’t your usual fight with Steve and by him choosing to check on Sharon instead of staying with you, he’s lost his place in your life.

Some nod solemnly and other eyes mist over yet they all share an overall agreement knowing that they are willing to do whatever they need to help you heal. It’s surprisingly Tony who voices what everyone else is thinking, “do you not want to wait to hear what he has to say?” he asks softly as you lean on his chest. You shake your head as tears begin to fill your eyes again. “I asked- “your voice breaks, “I begged him to stay” you tell them and watch as sympathy floods their faces.

Wanda and Natasha are the first one’s moving in order to get you out of there, they give everyone tasks so that you have some breathing room, Tony is organizing a safe house out of state while Sam and Bucky are working on getting a plane and pilot to fly you to it. Peter is making food and trying to stock up the house with groceries for the near future and Nat is overseeing his orders to make sure he doesn’t put just junk food on it.

Whist everything around you is moving faster than you can imagine for you to be out of the compound before Steve gets back, which according to Bucky is in the next hour, You and Wanda spend time packing your clothes and essentials you’ll need to have. The quiet in the room is comforting even though you can feel the anxiety slowly overcoming you at the idea of finally leaving Steve.

Wanda breaks the silence as she bombards you with a hug, “I could feel your pain, I thought this might help” and it does, Wanda has an aura around her that is so comforting for everyone around her. You both continue packing before you’re interrupted by Bucky knocking on your open door, he smiles sadly, “we’re ready for you” he says and you nod, picking up the two duffel bags lying on the floor, leaving a piece of paper on the bed before you walk out to the quinjet.

Bucky stops you before getting on the plane, as he grasps your arm, he pulls you into a hug and you know this is his way for apologizing for Steve’s behaviour. “it’s not your fault Buck” you whisper, and you feel him nod into the hug, you were both friends through Steve and you knew just how scared he must be in fear of losing you because of what his friend had done.

Peter is next and you can’t help but laugh through your tears as you see him with tears running down his pouting face, he looks like a puppy. “c’mon parker pull it together’ you roll your eyes and pull him into a hug as he sobs, “you do know I’m coming back, right?” you whisper as his sobs stop and he nods and you both giggle together. “we’re ready for take-off” you hear the pilot through the megaphone, and you release peter to walk onto the plane.

As soon as the door opens for you, you hear your voice being called desperately. “Y/N!!” you hear, and everyone turns around to meet Steve’s broken expression. “NO! Please just hear me out!!” he’s screaming through his tears however Bucky holds him back. “No! Stop the plane please! I need to talk to her” he yells and tries to fight off Bucky to get to you, but you ignore him and wipe your cheeks and make you way onto the plane, “NO! Please y/n stop! I’ll be better baby! Just get off the plane please!” his screams are drowned out as you make your way to the couches on the plane and sob.

“Y/N! Please! Let me talk to her! Please someone! Let me talk to her!” his voice becomes hoarse from all the yelling as he watches the plane take off, he doesn’t stop struggling in Bucky’s hold until the plane disappears. “I’m sorry, God I’m so sorry” he cries into his hands before he collapses, crushing your handwritten letter in one hand as he sobs. Bucky lets everyone leave as he sits with Steve on the ground, watching his best friend fall apart on the dark asphalt.

#juliwrites #mcu #steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #captain america #steven grant rogers #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #captain america angst

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Protecting my best friend

PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1K

SUMMARY | All of the Avengers are going to a bar, and Steve is keeping a close eye on the man who is trying to get your attention. He is trying his hardest to keep his cool, but he won't hesitate to intervene when things go too far, and you're getting uncomfortable.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Protective Steve, a SHIELD agent making sexist jokes about women, non-consensual touching (not sexual, just physical), and broken bones.

A/N | I would absolutely love to write more for Steve, so if you have a request, please let me know! It can be fluff, smut or angst - or a combination! Thank you in advance! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

''Dude, you really need to calm down, everything is okay!'' Sam says as he looks at the scowl on Steve's face. He's been watching you and the man you're talking to like a hawk because he doesn't want anything to happen to you. ''I don't know, she seems uncomfortable,'' he says as he's looking at the SHIELD agent you're talking to. You're completely fine, but Steve has always been very protective of you since you joined the team. While you're talking to the agent you keep looking over to Steve, and you have noticed he keeps staring at you, so you excuse yourself for a moment to talk to him.

''Steve, you honestly have a bigger staring problem than Barnes,'' you say with a sigh as you're standing in front of him. Everyone at the table chuckles at your remark, and you're getting a soft ''Hey!'' from Bucky, but he laughs too. ''I'm absolutely fine, so can you please just let me finish my conversation with Connor before you start burning holes into the back of my head?'' you ask him and he nods, grabbing his drink and turning back on the stool he's sitting on so he's facing the other Avengers again.

You walk back to the agent you were having a conversation with. ''I'm so sorry for that, Connor, Captain Rogers was just worried,'' you say with a small smile, and he nods. ''It's okay, but I would be worried too if I were him. I wouldn't let such a gorgeous lady like yourself talk to other men,'' he shrugs and now you are getting a little uncomfortable even though he called you gorgeous. The two of you carried on your conversation, but he kept making more sexist remarks like that and now you honestly wish Steve was looking your way. ''Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom,'' you say and you're starting to walk away, but he doesn't let you as he grabs your arm.

You let out a small whine at the feeling of him squeezing your arm like that, and due to Steve and his super soldier hearing, he can hear you perfectly fine. His head snaps to the side in an instant and when he sees what is happening, he pulls Bucky off of the stool next to him and he immediately follows Steve. ''Are you okay, Pumpkin?'' he asks and you shake your head, because Connor is still holding your arm pretty tightly, making tears stream down your face. Steve grabs Connor's arm and in an instant, he lets go of your arm, Bucky pulls you away from him and out of the way so he can take care of you.

''How bad does it hurt, doll?'' Bucky says as he inspects the place on your upper arm where Connor squeezed you. ''It mostly burns, but that's it. But I was really scared, he was okay one minute but when I came back he made all these sexist remarks about me and women in general and when I excused myself to go to the bathroom he didn't let me,'' You explain, the tears streaming down your face more steadily now. ''Oh doll, I'm so sorry about what happened,'' he says as he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he shields you with his body from what is happening behind the two of you.

Steve dragged Connor outside by his collar and pushed him into an alley, so they wouldn't be seen. You ran after the both of them at first but Bucky was quick enough to stand in front of you since you didn't want to go back inside. ''I just can't believe he's doing this, he has no right to be jealous. I get that he was making sexist remarks and everything, but Steve is going too far now,'' you say, softly sobbing into Bucky's chest. ''Doll, I promise you he's not doing it because he's jealous, he's just extremely protective over you. I get that it looks like he's jealous, but he isn't,'' Bucky says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

You're well aware that Steve has always been protective - and sometimes even possessive - over you, but you didn't mind until tonight. You could hear grunts and the sounds of broken bones coming from behind the thick wall of muscle your cheek was pressed up against, and it only made you sob harder into Bucky's chest, you never meant for any of this to happen. Not long after you can hear Connor groan so you know he's still alive, and Bucky's body quickly gets replaced with Steve's as he pulls you into his arms this time. ''I'm so sorry you had to hear all of that Pumpkin,'' he says against your hair, but all you can do is cry into his chest.

''C'mon, let's go back to the Compound so you can calm down a little, okay?'' Steve says and you nod. The Compound isn't far from the bar where you were so he just picked you up and carried you there, and Bucky informed everyone inside the two of you went back. ''Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Don't want to be alone,'' you ask and Steve nods. ''Of course, Pumpkin,'' he says, and when the two of you reach his bedroom, he sets you down on the bed and he hands you one of his old t-shirts to sleep in. He goes to the bathroom to change in there so you could have some privacy as you changed into the shirt Steve gave you, which was way too big but it smells like him so it's okay.

''Can I come back in?'' Steve asks and you say that he can. You already went and laid down under the covers, and not long after Steve slipped in beside you. You move over to him and your head finds his place on his chest, your leg put over his. His arms are around you and pulling you closer before he puts a soft kiss on your forehead. ''Thank you for protecting me, it means a lot,'' you say and Steve just smiles. ''Everything for my Pumpkin,'' he says, and your eyes fall shut as sleep is taking over quickly when you're wrapped in his warm body acting like your personal heater. You have a nice dreamless sleep and feel well-rested in the morning, and you're even more thankful for Steve saving you now.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot #captain america #captain america x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #captain america fluff #captain america angst #captain america fanfiction #captain america oneshot

[avengersfantasies]

Anymore - Chapter 4

Summary: You and Bucky go to dinner. Steve and you come to an understanding.

What to expect: angst, fluff?

✩ Read the series here ✩

taglist: @kandis-mom @missvelvetsstuff @mavrellover91 @natashasilverfox @vicmc624 @blackhawkfanatic @haruvalentine4321 @felicitylemon @vonalyn @aboobie @stinkerbelle007 @crist1216 @je-suis-prest-rachel @buckysforeverprincess @bathwater101 @frickin-bats @lovely-geek @winterslove1917

Steve stood outside his girlfriend’s apartment – exhaling and eventually knocking on the door. He was not looking forward to this conversation one bit. The door opened within seconds of him knocking – she had been waiting.

            “Hi,” Steve greeted his girlfriend – walking into the apartment when she stepped aside. “We uh, we need to talk.”

            She crossed her arms and sat on the sofa. “Obviously.”

Steve sat down next to the blonde bombshell. “So…she’s uh…pregnant.”

Her face dropped, and she went from angry to furious. “So, you’ve been fucking her behind my back?!” She stood up and slapped him in the chest.

“What?!”

She scoffed. “Should’ve known better…once a cheater always a cheater.” She went to hit him again, but he managed to catch her hand this time.

“Will you stop it?!” Steve yelled back. “I didn’t sleep with her behind your back!”

“Then how is she pregnant?!”

Steve stood up. “She got pregnant while we were together! God, do you not know how reproduction works?!”

The girl crossed her arms and shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t,” Steve scoffed. “I came here to tell you and hoped you’d be by my side with this.”

“That’d never happen,” she spat. “The only way we’re gonna be together is if the only kid there is belongs to us.”

Steve shook his head. “Then we’re done.”

Before he had time to react, his now ex-girlfriend managed to connect a left-hook to his eye – shocking him but not really hurting him. Without a further word, Steve left the small apartment, not even bothering to grab the couple of outfits he’d left there.

Bucky had you giggling almost nonstop during dinner. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two of you weren’t currently trying to figure out what to do with Steve.

            “I do want him involved,” you sighed – using your fork to play with the noodles in your bowl. “It’s hard not to.”

            Bucky nodded. “Baby deserves a father.”

“Or two,” you quietly added on.

Bucky smiled softly. “Or two.”

You exhaled. “If we do this…you and me…and he wants to be involved…you know that he’ll have the final say for things as the dad.”

He nodded. “I do. And I won’t try to argue or interfere unless you ask.”

You smiled at him softly. “Before we decide to start something serious…I need to have a sit down with Steve…make him understand that he and I are over for good.”

“Probably a good idea,” Bucky agreed – sipping his beer. “He’s an asshole, but he’s still my best friend. Last thing I want is him thinking we’re going behind his back.”

You scoffed. “Oh no, how horrible,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “He’d deserve it.”

“He would,” Bucky nodded, “but I know it’s not like you to want to hurt him.”

You smiled softly. “I’m gonna come back to the tower with you tonight…sit down and talk to him.” You exhaled. “I’m just…scared.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Of what? Steve?”

You shrugged. “Myself,” you answered, “scared I might fall back into his spell…end up in bed with him or something.”

“Do you think that’s something you’d want?”

“I don’t know, Buck,” you admitted. “I don’t think I could be with him like before, but there’s a part of me that’s still just…”

“Attracted to him?” You looked down – feeling embarrassed that he knew how you still felt about the super soldier. No matter how much he broke your heart, there was always a part of you that would nonetheless be attracted to Steve Rogers. Bucky chuckled and reached his hand across the table – holding yours gently. “Sweetheart,” he spoke softly, “whatever you need so that you can be happy, I’ll support it.”

“I don’t want to fall back into bed or love with him,” you told him quietly, “but I’m scared that there’s that part of me that’ll never let go.”

“Do you want me there?” Bucky asked – stroking the back of your palm with his metal thumb.

You nodded tearfully. “Please.”

            Bucky drove the two of you back to the tower after dinner – holding your hand as you walked inside, but he made sure to keep a short distance and let go once inside. The last thing you needed was gossip about you and Bucky being together. You followed him up to Steve’s room, and he gently knocked on the door.

            “Steve,” Bucky called out, “can we talk?” A few seconds passed before Steve opened the door – an ice pack held up to his black eye. “What happened to you?” Bucky asked.

            “Nadia hits harder than I thought,” Steve informed him.

            “Are you okay?” you asked – your voice was meek and quiet.

Steve gave you a soft smile. “I will be.” He put the ice pack down on his nightstand and sat on the foot of his bed. “So, what’s up?”

“We need to talk,” you told him – sitting on the edge of the bed while Bucky sat on the chair across the way from you. “We need to…be clear about things.” Steve nodded and signaled for you to continue. “You and me…we’re—”

“I know I fucked up,” Steve began to interrupt. “Whatever I can do to fix it…just tell –”

“No, Steve,” you cut him off with tears in your eyes. “You did more than fuck up…Do you remember what you told me? I’ll remind you in case you forgot…you told me you didn’t love me anymore.”

Steve looked down to the floor – clearly ashamed at what he had done and said to you. “I know I can’t take that back…but believe me I didn’t mean it.”

You looked over at Bucky for some backup. You could feel yourself falling for him again, and you wanted so badly to throw yourself into his arms and tell him you forgave him. Bucky’s soft and caring expression gave you strength, however, and he was a very strong reminder that there were other men out there. You didn’t need to settle for someone who had so badly shattered your heart and soul.

“Steve,” you exhaled, “we’re done…you cheated…said horrible things to me…I can forgive you, but I can’t trust you....Not with my heart, anyways.”

He nodded. “I get it.”

“I’m more worried about how we’re going to do this whole parenting thing,” you continued. “If you say you want to be there but then end up leaving—”

“That won’t happen,” Steve insisted. “I do want to be there.”

You began to feel a sigh of relief. Maybe things would work out in the end. Maybe the two of you would never be together again, but at least, maybe, your baby would have their biological father in their life in some way. At least, that’s what you had hoped, but you had always found out that life had other plans.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x steve x reader #captain steve rogers #captain america x reader #captain america angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky angst #bucky fic #steve rogers angst

[callmissrogers]

There For His Girl | Steve Rogers x Reader One Short

Summary: Y/n has reached her limit. Work has been difficult. People have been short, and some just mean. It all brings her back to her childhood, and right now, she just wants to pretend to be ok. So determined to pretend she tries to push her concerned husband away.

WARNINGS ⚠️ This contains mentions of a toxic relationship with the reader's mother and quotes some of their arguments. If this is a trigger for you, please DO NOT proceed. It also contains angst, fluff, and comfort. Also, very little editing and wrote on my phone.

Steve Rogers x wife reader

Word count: 1,370

Notes: The next part in the That's My Girl series will be going up today or tomorrow. I was feeling the need for some comfort myself, so this is what I wrote. Hope you like it!

Y/n slammed the door, tears streaming down her face she pressed her back into the wall and slid down until she was a small ball on the floor.

"Why do I do this?" She sobbed hating herself.

Y/n had had a rough few days. It seemed like no matter what she did or said, people were short with her. Everything was going wrong, and after one mistake, which led to a snarky backhanded compliment from Tony Stark himself, well, Y/n was done. Usually, it didn't get to her like this anymore, but her emotions frayed to a breaking point.

Her dad always told her she wore her heart on her sleeve but she just thought her mom was right and that instead of enduring this made her a nuisance.

Why should she be so bothered when people utter unkind things to her?

Why can't she pull herself together?

"You're always start crying! Stop trying to make me feel bad"

"You're stabbing me in the back by trying to do something different"

"Don't you know I need you here? Stop thinking about yourself and making everything harder on me"

This and many other instances where y/n would be belittled, ridiculed, screamed at, lectured for two hours at 1 in the morning, and reduced to making herself as small and as unseen as possible while being a sobbing mess, had made her what she is today.

Too sensitive. At least that's what she told herself at times like this.

And why couldn't she just talk about it like a normal person instead of blowing something trivial out of proportion?

Literally five minutes ago....

Steve had come home the night before. Poor guy had been so tired that he fell asleep in uniform on the couch.

Y/n had been carefully tiptoeing around the kitchen so as not to accidentally wake him up. Intending to surprise him before heading to work.

She was supposed to be going over mission plans with Vision today. This was the kind of work that excited her. None of the agents would bother them while they were working, which meant that she could just disappear for the day.

She platted up breakfast and carried it over to set it on the coffee table in front of the sleep soilder.

Tho he didn't actually wake up until she set down his mug of coffee.

Eyes fluttering open he peered up at her groggyily. "Hi" He mumbled, pushing himself upright. "Hey sleepy head." Y/n said, trying to make her voice sound chipper.

Steve sighed contentedly as he stretched out his muscles before standing up.

"Mind if I go change clothes before I enjoy this masterpiece?" He asked. Y/n turned to face him, attempting to smooth down his wild bedhead and then said, "Go ahead"

He was back a matter of moments, settling down next to her and drinking deeply from his coffee.

"Thank you for this," He sighed leaning over and gently kissing her on the cheek. Y/n just nodded, trying to keep her mind on a healthy track she focused on eating.

"Did you sleep well?" Steve asked. Taking another bite, she thought about lying and telling him that she had had the best night sleep.

"Sorta" She said trying to stiffle a yawn. "What does sorta mean?" Steve asked turning to look at her. "Nothing really. I'm good! Nothing some strong coffee won't fix."

Steve placed his hands on her shoulders, making her look at him. He studied the dark circles, the faint tint of bloodshot in her eyes, how she held herself and her fiddling hands.

"Hm," He said, his voice low in his chest.

Y/n knew exactly what he was doing, shaking his hands off her shoulders and standing up she said, "I should probably get ready for work."

Steve stood up, grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "Y/n, you look exhausted." "I'm fine" "You're twirling your hair, which means you're not telling the truth." "Steve, c'mon I don't have time for this" "Y/n, it looks like you've been crying" She pulled his hand off her wrist and started to walk away from him, "I'm going to work." "Sweetheart, please just tell me what's - " "Steve! Please just listen to me and leave me alone!" She yelled, cutting him off. She ran off to the bedroom, and that's when the door slammed.

Steve stood there a moment, thinking about honoring her request and leaving her be. But his protective nature overtook him and he decided that the best thing to do would be to be there for his girl.

In the bedroom.

Y/n sat against the wall still crying into her hands, body trembling, thinking hateful thoughts about herself.

She heard Steve knock on the door, saying "Sweetheart, can I come in?"

When she didn't answer him, he slowly opened the door and stepped inside.

She could feel him kneeling down in front of her, "Sweetheart," He whispered, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear to which she only buried her face further.

The next thing that happened, was Steve scooping her up into his arms and settling down in the arm chair that sat in the room.

Somehow this just made her cry more.

"Oh honey, come on now. Take a deep breath. In through the nose and out through the mouth." He soothed.

After about ten minutes of this, her crying settled down, breath becoming rhythmic.

Once he was sure that she had calmed down enough to be able to communicate with him, he asked his voice low and rumbling through his chest, "Do you wanna talk about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

She nodded against his shirt. "Everything" she gasped. "Everything?" He asked, pulling her back so he could look her in the face. Dabbing away the leftover tears.

"I'm too emotional. Everything the last few days just hurts. I let everything get under my skin... I just. . Lately, people and Stark are just mean, or maybe I'm just too sensitive.. and now I've yelled at you, too." She said, trying to get up.

"Now hold on a minute, " He cooed, keeping her in place.

"What did Tony say?" "Nothing. I messed up and he was being sarcastic, but I'm such a mess that it hurt" she said her voice breaking. "Alright. Listen to me. One, you are not too emotional. The world tells everyone to button up and be cynical. You, my dear, are a light in all that mess. You do care and that's a very good thing -- I don't want you to listen to anyone that would belittle that, ok?" He asked getting a slow, uncertain nod in response. "Ok. Secondly, people can be mean, especially Stark. People also have power trips and want to pull people down to make themselves feel stronger or better. This means there's one thing you can always be certain of: Do you know what that is?" "What?" "They're wrong. Anyone who would belittle you to make a point or to win an argument or for any other reason, is just a bully." "But what if-" "ah. No what ifs. Thirdly, and this one is the one that's most important of the three." "Then why'd it come last?" She asked clearly beginning to feel a little bit better if she could tease him now. Steve simply rolled his eyes and continued,

"I want you to remember that when you're upset, you can always talk to me. No matter how silly it might make you feel, your feelings are safe with me." "Steve I just yelled at you for no rea-" "No. You had a reason. You were upset. I can see that and you know what that means? It means I can take it too. When I put this ring on your finger," He said taking her hand in his and running a finger across her knuckles. "I signed up for this. I'd rather have you get emotional than bottle things up and hide them from me."

Y/n looked down at their still intertwined hands and then back up at him. Nodding again and breathed out an "ok"

"Ok." Steve replied, giving her his usual comforting smile and kissing her forehead.

#steve rogers comfort #steve rogers romance #steve rogers argument #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x wife #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel shortstory #hurt & comfort #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x wife #captain america angst #marvel romance #marvel character #marvel x reader #marvel fandom #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #captain america short story #steve rogers x yn

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Overlooked

Steve Rogers x reader

A/N This fic is about how overlooked Steve's trauma was in the films. It's just my opinion since he definitely would have had struggles but they weren't really seen in the films. Once again this is just my opinion. Idk if I like this though so I might delete it. I'm not sure though. Also, all mistakes are my own so if you see any feel free to comment them and likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

18+ MINORS DNI, THERE'S NOTHING EXPLICIT IN THIS FIC BUT IT DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES

Summary Steve is struggling and you convince him to get help

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff, angst (a lot), allusions to being suicidal kinda (if these things trigger you in any way then please don't read it)

Steve was your everything. He was the reason you woke up with a smile every day. You trusted him with your deepest secrets and he does the same with you. That’s how you got into the position you were in. 

Steve was lying on your chest while you ran your fingers through his soft hair as he sobbed. It broke your heart to see him in such a state but, there was nothing you could do but hold him until the crying stopped. 

This wasn’t an unusual situation for the both of you to be in. This broke your heart when you came to that realisation since it made you think of how much you saw Steve in such a state.

It was because of Steve being misunderstood by everyone. Everyone saw America’s golden boy who bravely fought in WWII and continues to fight for justice. They saw his best friend -formerly the winter soldier- fighting his inner demons and PTSD. 

What they didn't see was the man who was scared to admit he was tortured by memories as well. They didn’t see the man who had nightmares almost every night. They didn’t see the man who would cry for hours on end thinking about the people he watched die, the people he was too late to save, the people he thought he should have swapped places with. 

They might not have seen that, but you did. You saw the look of pure horror on Steve’s face after each nightmare, you saw the way his hands trembled and you saw the way Steve would try to fight back the tears. You saw everything. 

Steve was so thankful to have you in his life. You brightened his day and made life worth living. Especially in moments like these.

His arms were wrapped around you as he snuggled into your chest. The blanket was over his head; a cocoon of safety, protecting him from the outside world. 

As his sobs turned into whimpers and his breathing evened out, you slightly lifted the blanket so you could look at your boyfriend.

“Do you wanna talk about it baby?” you questioned.

“Could y-you just hold m-me for a bit l-longer?” he replied.

“Of course I can,”

You stayed like that for a while before a thought entered your mind.

“How about we tell Dr Cho or Banner about this Stevie.”

“W-why?” He stuttered, trying not to panic.

“Because babe it hurts me to see you in such a state, especially as often as it has been happening lately.”

“It’s not that bad doll. Bucky’s got it worse,” he responded.

“Maybe he has, but that doesn’t take away from your struggles.”

“B-but what will everyone think? I’m supposed to be Captain America, the man with a plan. Their symbol of hope,” he said, starting to hyperventilate.

“Look at me, Steve,” he lifted his arms so he was resting on them and facing you, “Breathe with me,” you took slow, deep breaths in through your nose and let them out through your mouth.

Steve started to copy you and in no time, he was back to breathing normally.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time baby. Nobody is,” 

“B-but-”

“It’s okay to have struggles. You have every right to ask for help. You went through a war, lost your best friend and then woke up seventy years into the future. If anyone deserves to get help it's you.”

Steve looked at you with pure admiration and love in his eyes. 

“I love you so much, doll.” He leaned in to kiss you, it was so gentle and full of love.

“I love you too Stevie, that’s why I want you to get help. Please. I’ll go with you if you want and I’ll be there for you. Every step of the way.”

“You’re perfect darling,” Steve replied, laying back down on your chest.

“So does that mean you’re going to ask Dr Cho or Banner for help then?” you asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I will do it tomorrow,” Steve looked up at you and then continued in a voice so small and innocent it almost didn't sound like him, “Will you still come with me?”

“Of course I will babe,” you responded with a smile.

_________________________________________

The next day, you woke up to Steve kissing you on the cheek and smiling at you. 

“Good morning, doll,” he whispered.

“G’morning baby,” you replied, kissing him.

“I already booked an appointment with Banner at 1:15pm.” He told you with a smile on his face.

You pulled him down to kiss you, “I’m so proud of you Stevie,” you kissed him again, “so proud.”

Steve’s cheeks had gone red from the praise. Then, he got up and went into the bathroom, leaving you alone in bed with a big smile on your face. 

Once Steve came out of the bathroom, you went inside while he went into the kitchen to make the both of you some coffee and pancakes.

Maybe Steve was struggling but he had you and that’s all that mattered. You gave him purpose and someone to love and he would forever be thankful for that.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

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#marvel #mcu #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #fluff #angst #captain america x reader #captain america x reader fluff #captain america x reader angst #captain america #captain america fluff #captain america angst #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #x gn reader #steven grant rogers #steven grant rogers x reader #steven grant rogers x reader fluff #steven grant rogers x reader angst #bucky barnes #ptsd #flashbacks

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Other Woman | Steve Rogers

▹ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader | Implied potential Bucky x Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~3.4k

▹ Summary: Steve had told you Peggy was his past, yet when time travel becomes an option, it turns out you were the other woman all along.

▹ Notes: I just like to be sad I guess. I have also decided to open my requests! I think I need some new inspiration while I work on some other pieces :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You were trapped, stuck in a fantasy you'd created on how things were supposed to be. Time seemed to drag on. It could've been an eternity or just a minute that passed, you wouldn’t have known the difference. 

You stared out the window, mesmerized by the water as it washed away any remnants of the past five years. The meteorologists were predicting this storm would be one of the worst of this year. It was poetic, almost like the flood in Noah's Arc, if you believed in that sort of thing. Droplets clung to your window and obscured your vision making everything outside blurry and unimportant. Incense hung thickly in the air, the smell of smoke from the match you struck burning your nostrils. A lukewarm cup of hot chocolate rested on your side table, relatively untouched. You’d lost the appetite for it shortly after making it. It had been a force of habit, an old routine you hadn’t quite shaken.

Four months, and all you had to show for it was sleepless nights, tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. You still couldn't find it in yourself to begin the process of moving on. To pack away the photos that littered your home. To get rid of him.

You half expected your front door to swing open. For him to burst in with his winning smile and bright eyes. He’d grab you in his arms and hold you tightly, thankful that the both of you had made it out alive. Two rounds with Thanos and neither of you died. Everything would be fairytale perfect: the world was safe, you weren't fugitives anymore, and Steve finally had Bucky back. That's how it should've been.  

But he didn’t.

Steve never came back. Those fantasies and dreams were dashed and divided, like glass shattering on the hard floor. Millions of shards created thousands of open wounds.  

He didn’t die a heroic death, sacrificing himself as Nat and Tony had. He chose to leave you. To stay in the past, a world he assured you he long ago made peace with losing. Swore to you that Peggy was nothing more than a fond memory he cherished like his old war buddies. 

‘She’s nothing compared to my girl.’ he’d always say. The words that used to quell your deepest fears and insecurities now felt hollow. You were always the other woman. It just took you four years to discover that. All the years you’d wasted, the opportunities you’d passed up when you'd gone on the run for him. It had all been pointless. 

He never even said goodbye. Steve couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eyes as he broke your heart. You had to learn the truth from Bucky, a man you only knew by association. Sam had been there too, hand on your shoulders, holding you up as your whole world crumbled. You were barely coming to terms with the fact that Nat was gone, and now you’d have to live in a world without either of them. 

Figures formed in the haze of the low fog the rain had brought. It brought buried memories to the forefront of your mind. Tears clouded your vision, making everything out of focus. A single tear fell, your first meeting with Steve playing behind your eyes like a movie.

----

“So it’s true then, Captain America is defrosted and ready for action.” Your voice was soft, a bite of snark hidden deep under the sweetness of it. You crept up behind the super soldier, but he’d known you were there. You weren’t a trained assassin, nor did you ever claim to be. Just someone good with a gun and even better at executing orders, even if not in the manner originally intended.

Steve turned, a polite smile on his face. He seemed confused and disoriented, like an old man trying to keep up with technology. An accurate description of Steve Rogers. The sun shone in his eyes, making them shine like light against blue waters. He was attractive, obnoxiously so. With perfectly tousled blonde hair, a strong jaw, and lips that looked too soft to not want to kiss. 

“Ready and willing to jump back into action when I’m needed,” he said, holding a hand out for you to shake as you closed the distance separating you. He was even taller up close, nearly a foot taller than you. Which was new, you weren’t exactly short. “But please, call me Steve.” 

You took his hand in yours, enjoying the sensation of his calloused and much larger hands in yours. All too quickly the handshake ended and he was retracting his touch. 

“Y/N.” It was all you said, allowing yourself to stare into his blue eyes for one last moment before steeling yourself to distractions. This was a mission, not meet your local fossil at the Smithsonian. But that train of thought was harder to hold onto every time his arm gently brushed against yours.

“There’s quite the buzz around here, You’re all anyone can talk about,” you said, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, mindful to keep your gaze professional.

“I didn’t think I’d be that exciting of a topic,” he said, an easy smile on his face as he looked around the helicarrier. 

“Please, America’s hero melted and returned to modern America is cause for talk. Coulson swooned so hard he nearly fell to the floor,” you said, a whisper of a laugh at the edge of your words. Steve paused, turning to face you and you mirrored the action. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, he was much closer than he had been a minute or so ago. 

“And you, Agent Y/N?” he asked, a slight red hue dusting his cheeks. The grin on your face widened, eyes softening as you allowed yourself to get lost in his eyes one more time. “How do you feel?”

“Very happy to have you with us today, Captain.” 

The grin on his face turned softer as the flush on his face got brighter. At that moment you noticed small flecks of green in his eyes.  

“You always were my favorite part about learning about WWII in school.” 

With a single pat on his shoulder, you continued making your way to the meeting room Fury and the others would be waiting in. 

---

Christmas lights glistened in the large room, chatter and laughter in every corner. The room was grand, ostentatiously so. With vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and pretentious art that only had value because a bunch of rich people decided it did. Women in beautiful dresses of various dark shades were lit up with glittering jewels while men wore extravagant suits that were probably more expensive than your rent. The holiday gala had been in full swing for two hours now. The alcohol had made everyone's eyes glossy and lips loose. 

You hung close to the bar, swirling the straw your drink had been served with. Your free hand rested on the bartop, manicured nails tapping against the wood. You were never good in events like this, all the glitz, glamor, and underhanded words. You were awkward and unsure of yourself outside of the battlefield. Fancy galas and parties exasperated that clumsy attitude. So you preferred to stick to the bar, hoping to get through the night with as little interaction as possible.   

“What’s a pretty gal like yourself doing all by herself?” the voice of Steve Rogers said, interrupting your awkward fidgeting. You turned, a pleasant smile overtaking your frown. Steve was standing right behind you, dressed in a simple black suit. In comparison to everyone around him, the outfit was plain, but Steve made it look anything but that. He made everything he wore look breathtaking. It was infuriating.

“Just waiting for a fella to come sweep me off my feet,” you said, a coy grin pulling on your lips. One of your hands smoothed down your knee-length black dress. Steve’s smile broadened and he held out a single hand. 

“Then how about a dance?” 

You didn’t answer him, simply taking his hand in yours. He pulled you towards the center of the room, the sound of your heels matching the pace of your heart. People parted for the two of you like the Red Sea, all the attention on you and Steve. Anxiety began to rise in your stomach, nearly causing your throat to close up. But you glanced up, meeting Steve’s blue eyes that were as deep and vast as the ocean. In the most cliche way, everyone in the room became formless blurs. All that mattered was Steve and his hands that circled your waist, pulling you closer to him than probably necessary. You relished the proximity though, his heartbeat matching pace with yours, his warmth heating your chilled skin. 

Your hands wrapped around his neck, the tips of your nails gently grazing his skin. Slowly, the two of you began to sway with the gentle piano that filled the room. The both of you wore matching smiles that were brighter than any lights in the room. Steve raised his hand, coaxing you to spin. The wind caused your hair to fan out, creating a halo effect as you did. The spin was more clumsy than you would’ve wanted, causing a shy giggle to leave your lips. 

“I’m not very good at this,” you muttered a dusting of red on your cheeks. Steve’s grip tightened slightly, amplifying the butterflies that had been exploding in your stomach since he first approached you.

“It’s okay, neither am I,” Steve said. His smile quelled the insecurities that lingered in the back of your mind. In and out, you took a steady breath.

“You seem to be hiding it better than I am,” you said in a slightly sardonic tone, your nose scrunching for a moment. Steve shook his head, a whisper of laughter leaving his mouth. The soft sound sent your heart racing and caused your mind to turn white. 

“Trust me, I’m not. See.” Steve unwrapped one of his arms from your waist, holding it out to you. You grabbed it, feeling his hand shaking. “You’ve got me seeing stars, doll.”

You’re silent for a moment, a dumb smile stuck on your face as you looked at Steve with adoration in your widened eyes. You grasped at straws, trying to think of something clever to say. But there was just static. You’d secretly been hoping for your friendship with Steve to blossom into more, and now it seemed you were getting your wish. You wanted to pinch yourself if only to see this was a dream. 

Steve didn’t talk, content to watch you struggle with breathing properly. His smile was lazy, head tilted slightly to the left like a cute puppy. His eyes were filled with adoration that was directed at you. Something you’d wanted from the moment he first spoke.

“How long have you been holding onto that one, Cap?” you finally uttered after a few seconds of long silence. 

“The moment we met, back on the helicarrier. Just been working up the courage to let ya know,” he said, his cheeks as equally as rosy as yours.

“Well--” you lifted Steve’s hand, spinning once again. This one was much smoother than the previous, Steve’s confession giving you a burst of confidence. “If it took nearly a year for you to tell me that, how long until you ask me out?”

After you spun, Steve's hand wrapped around your waist, both hands holding you close. You reveled in the feeling of being trapped in his arms, chest to chest and eye to eye.

“I’m free this Friday. We could go out to dinner, maybe go dancing after if you’re up for it,” Steve said. 

“Oh I’m up for it Rogers,” you said, resting your head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He leaned his head down, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It was gentle and over quicker than you would’ve liked, but you closed your eyes, imprinting the moment in your brain.    

---

Something was wrong, you could feel it. There wasn’t anything tangible that set the paranoia off, no action or word was spoken that would stoke your fear. You shouldn't feel this way, but the pit in your stomach wouldn’t go away. 

You brushed it off, the death of Nat and Tony had shaken you, especially with them being so close together. That had to be why there was a lump in your throat that wouldn’t go away. It had to be why you were imagining that Steve hadn’t been able to look you in the eyes for two weeks now. Or why he would brush you off when you’d try to grab his hand or hold onto him for comfort. None of those things were happening, you were just imagining them. 

But even as you were thinking it, you knew it was pure delusion. You could read the writing on the wall.

Steve had been off the moment he returned from retrieving the stone. You’d been so wrapped up in losing Nat, that you never lingered on the implications that could have for the future of your relationship. There had been some complications and Steve and Tony had to go farther back to get the Tesseract. If you’d had a clearer mind, you would’ve understood the distant look in Steve’s eyes. 

He’d seen her, Peggy. That sighting was all it took to give him doubts. You never confronted him, of course, too cowardly to face that your relationship was crumbling. You loved Steve, you'd stuck by his side for four years, enduring the worst so you could keep him. The thought that it would've all been for nothing was terrifying. So instead you tucked yourself into bed every night, promising you’d bring it up the next day, only for the cycle to repeat.

Most days you awoke hoping this had all been a terrible nightmare, but that never happened.  

‘Just one last thing, and then everything can go back to normal,’ you told yourself. Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce were all outside, a little ways away from the small home Pepper had. Steve was going to return the stones, and then this whole thing with Thanos would finally be put to rest. 

You were at the sink, handwashing the same five dishes. It was therapeutic to have something to focus on. It kept your mind off of thoughts that you’d done your hardest to shove into the darkest recesses of your mind. Tears pricked at your eyes and your grip on the ceramic cup tightened. You clenched your jaw, inhaling then sharply exhaling.

‘Don’t cry, not here.’

Morgan and Pepper were somewhere nearby, their voices filtering into the kitchen from somewhere deeper in the house. You wouldn’t want either of them to walk in on you having a breakdown. Because if so, then you’d have to explain why you were sobbing in the middle of the kitchen. It would legitimize your fears, making the inevitable end of your relationship real.

By chance you glanced up, seeing Sam and Bucky standing with each other, but no Steve. Their backs were to you as they looked at something you couldn't quite see. A moment later Sam walked forward, slowly and almost unsure. 

A glint of metal in the light caught your eye, causing you to drop the glass in your hand. The shield. Steve’s shield. You could make out the bold, red, white, and blue coloring with the large star in the center. Even from this distance, it stuck out like a sore thumb.

'No, no, no, no--'

Panic surged through your body, the lump in your throat getting worse. You could hardly breathe as you forced the door open, rushing outside. The cold air hit your face, making your hair whip around. Clumsily you ran down the steps of the porch, bare feet touching green grass.

Closer now you could see an old man. Sam and Bucky were with him, helping him get into a car. The air was knocked out of your lungs and you nearly fell over. Tears broke through the damn you’d created, staining your cheeks red and splotchy. You inhaled sharply, gasping for air. 

The old man was Steve. You stood there like a fish gasping for air as you realized the man you’d loved had abandoned you without so much as a word. It was only after the car was out of sight that your mind fully processed what had happened.

Bucky and Sam turned, seeing you standing there completely still, the only noise you could make was a choked sob.

'He left. He just--'

  ---

 You opened your eyes, grabbed the mug of cold hot chocolate, and walked towards the sink. The drink poured out of the cup and down the drain, washed away with warm water. In complete silence, you stood there with your head in your hands. The breath you’d been holding left your mouth, slowly. A few stray tears lingered, and you scrubbed your face, trying to destroy the evidence of your crying. 

A knock on your front door chased away the silence. It was startling, pulling you out of your melancholic state. You straightened your back, hands smoothing your clothes and hair as you walked to the door.

In and out. 

You let out one last breath before opening the door. 

Bucky Barnes stood on the other side, his previously long hair cut short, more like the style he wore back in the 40s. He was dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt. His metal arm poked out from the sleeve of his leather jacket causing it to gleam in the dim lighting. A large grin lit up his face, making his ever-tired blue eyes brighter than usual. He held a grocery bag in his dominant hand and leaned nonchalantly against your doorway. 

“I thought we’d try our hand at making something for once instead of ordering out,” he said. A tentative smile blossomed on your face, stepping aside for Bucky to freely enter the apartment. He’d started coming by two weeks after Steve left, mumbling something about not wanting you to have to be alone. Though you both knew he needed the company as much as you.

“Oh, you might regret that Barnes. I don’t think either of us has the natural talent to cook,” you said, following him into the kitchen. He took off his jacket, setting it on the back of one of your chairs.

“I’ll have you know I make a mean batch of pancakes,” he said as he pulled grocery items out of the bag. 

“That doesn't mean shit. Everyone knows that waffles are superior,” you smugly said. Bucky rolled his eyes, shaking his head as his lips pressed into a thin line.

“What? Not even close, waffles are so hard and difficult to chew, pancakes are so soft and fluffy,” he said. 

“Waffles are fluffy too!”

“Not like pancakes!” Bucky fired right back. 

“Besides, waffles are not hard, you just always burn them,” you said. 

“That was one time!”

The two of you continued to playfully banter, poking and prodding each other with quips as you cooked in your tiny kitchen. It was a relief to not have your thoughts constantly wander to Steve every five seconds. At some point he melted away completely, leaving only you and Bucky in the candlelight glow of your apartment. At some point, he'd become your rock, the one thing keeping you from going completely adrift. The time spent with Bucky was an escape, a chance for you to pretend you hadn't been completely shattered. 

You smiled at a stupid joke he'd made, a sarcastic quip snapped at him like a whip. You both sat on your couch, eating the food that had taken far longer than necessary to make. But you weren't mad, in fact, you hoped the raging storm outside would be enough excuse for him to stay the night. If only to avoid the feeling of drowning that always followed Bucky's absence. 

Yet you couldn't ignore the flutter of your heart or the lightheaded feeling whenever Bucky laughed. You didn't acknowledge it, simply relishing in the moments spent together. The hole Steve had left behind slowly filled each day Bucky smiled at you like that.      

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[sunvmars]

sour | s.r. [2]

pairing: steve rogers x afab/fem reader

↞ previous | next ↠

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of abortion, pregnancy/pregnant reader- that's ab it

summary: you and steve discuss plans for the pregnancy, steve faces the consequences of his actions

a/n: oh boy have i got a little plot twist coming for y'all soon. also, the chapters will get longer as more of the story is revealed!

“I’m pregnant, Steve.”

Steve's hold on you became a little tighter. He found himself unable to fully process the information you'd just dropped on him; you being pregnant wasn't something he had even considered. You stood still in his arms, allowing him time to process the news and awaiting any type of response from him. He took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. The words kept repeating in his head; she’s pregnant, she's pregnant, she's…pregnant.

"Steve? Did you hear me?" you questioned, voice slightly muffled by how you were being pressed into his chest.

Only after hearing your voice again did he move. He released his grip on you and took a step back to look you in the eyes. His eyebrows furrowed, his expression containing a mix of disbelief and confusion. There was something else hidden below the surface of his gaze too- a deep-rooted concern. A concern not only for you but for the tiny little life growing inside of you too, the life both of you created.

"What..? I'm sorry, this is just, uhm, wow."

You cock an eyebrow up at him, "That's all you've got to say?"

When he doesn't respond, you scoff. His eyes search the room as he tries to avoid direct eye contact with you.

"Well, now that you've made this abnormally awkward, I think I'm gonna go home now," you chuckle, trying to hide your irritation, ''Since I'm having your baby, please feel free to call me when you've got something else to add, alright?"

He grabs your arm when you turn to leave, "Wait. I'm sorry, y/n. Come inside, please. We can talk in here.”

Reluctantly, you allowed Steve to guide you into the apartment. His grip on your arm stayed gentle but firm like he thought you were gonna turn and run away at any moment. Once fully inside, you noticed how everything seemed so familiar yet foreign at the same time. Most of the pictures were off the wall except for two.

One picture was one that Tony had taken at the beach a year ago. The photo was of you, Steve, and Bucky sitting in the sand. You were laying in Steve's lap with your head resting on his chest while playing rock, paper, scissors with Bucky for the last slice of Steve's birthday cake.

The other photo just had you and Steve on your first date. You'd made him take a picture with you in front of the movie theater you went to. It was the oldest theater in town and, at some point during the night, you made a joke about how the theater was the only thing as old as him in the city.

He'd rolled his eyes at the joke but found himself unable to contain a smile when he saw your face light up as you laughed. You were witty, and that was his favorite thing about you, even if he was on the butt end of the joke. As long as you still had that pretty smile on your face, he didn't care how many jokes you made about him.

The soft, white couch you'd picked out together when the two of you first moved in was still there too and so was your favorite vase. The vase was missing the flowers though- the flowers he'd come home with every Friday without fail. More often than not, the ones he bought the week before weren't even dead yet, but he'd buy you new ones anyways.

"Ma used to tell me that if someone buys you flowers and they don't die for a long time, that means they really love you. But it's unavoidable that they'll die eventually, right? So I figured that if I buy you new ones before the old ones die then you'll never get the chance to forget how much I love you," he explained, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

"Right, but what if I forget anyway?" you joked with a smile.

And then he shrugged and gave you a peck on your nose, "Then it's a good thing I'll be right here to remind you, honey," he cooed.

You bit your tongue, forcing the lump in your throat to go back down upon remembering all of the moments you shared. This was your home until just a couple of months ago, and now it felt like you were standing in a shell of what used to be your safe space.

Steve led you to the living room, the last room you'd been in before he gave up on your future together. He gestured for you to take a seat and you plopped into your favorite recliner that didn't even seem like it'd been touched since you left. The tension in the room was palpable as he sat on the far end of the couch, the side farthest away from you.

"You scared I'm gonna bite you or something?" you joked, rubbing a hand over your aching stomach.

He gave a short-lived chuckle before speaking, "Listen, I'm sorry for my reaction," he began, his voice filled with sincerity, "I didn't expect this, and I'm sure you didn't either."

You nodded to show your understanding, "It's alright, this is a lot for both of us."

"What do you wanna do..?"

"Me?"

His brain blanks as he tries to think of whether or not he'd said something wrong.

"Yeah?" he finally says, almost saying it like a question.

"It's not just my decision, Steven. You get a say in this too."

"I do?"

You laugh a little at his confusion, "Yes. You do."

"I'm sorry, it's just that with everything that happened I... I'm trying to say that I'd understand if you didn't want me involved in this decision," he says, looking down at the floor to avoid your eyes.

"Steve, look at me," you begin, pausing until he looks back up at you, "I wouldn't leave this choice up to just me. Whatever decision we make has to work for both of us though."

He looks up at you with surprise etched all over his face, "Thank you, y/n. It's more than I deserve."

"Mhm, tell me about it," you sigh while still rubbing a hand soothingly over your stomach, trying to ease the nausea.

He's silent, avoiding the dreaded breakup conversation. Luckily enough, neither of you are ready to have that discussion yet. He claps his hands together in his lap quietly and clears his throat to get rid of the silence.

"Do you know how far along you are?"

"No, not yet. I have to find a doctor. I'll ask Tony to make the call for me tomorrow."

"So, what do you wanna do?" he asks again, emphasizing the 'you,' "Have you thought about...you know?"

"The alternative? Yeah, I thought about it for a bit, but I think I wanna keep it. I've only known about the little guy for less than an hour and I'm already attached."

What you said was true, you did think about every possible alternative from abortion to adoption; but at some point on the way here, you'd decided on keeping it. You feel a bit of hope when you look down at your stomach. You smile to yourself, momentarily forgetting all your troubles. Though your smile is quickly replaced with a frown when you remember the situation at hand. You look up to lock eyes with him, seeing he's clearly hesitating to respond.

"But if you don't want this, I can raise him or her alone. Y'know, move out of town or move a few states away to be closer to family so there are no unwanted run-ins. The whole nine yards," you say softly, wiping a stray tear off your cheek.

"Oh, y/n," he mumbles, "I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this- I didn't want any of this."

You take in his words, trying to make sense of them. You felt your heart beginning to break as he remained silent. How can he just give up so easily before it even gets hard? Not that you'd pressure him into raising a kid he didn't want, I mean you did give him the choice, but his words still come as a surprise.

"So, the whole nine yards it is then?"

"I'm sorry, y/n..."

“I need you to look at me and say it, please.”

Steve looked around the room, appearing as though he was about to cry. His eyes finally land on you and you swear there's bits of guilt and regret in them.

"I don't want this baby."

That was all you needed. Hearing him say the words to you only solidified that y/n l/n and Steve Rogers didn't stand another damn chance. You sniffled as you stood up, trying to conceal any glimpse of sadness he could possibly see in you. You make your way to the door and go to turn the handle only for him to start speaking and stop you in your tracks.

"Y/n. I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't expecting any of this. I don't know what I want yet."

"Of course you do, Steven, you just said it," you say with a fake smile as you turn to look at him, "I'm not upset with you for not wanting this, but I'm disappointed that you're not the man I thought you were. If you change your mind, you know where to find me, but decide soon because I won't let you be in and out of our lives."

With that, you leave and quietly shut the door behind you.

The drive back to the tower is entirely too slow and painful. You slipped your shoes off once back inside the comfort of your room and made your way to the bathroom to run a bath. After sinking in the warm bubbles and water, you unlocked your phone to unblock Steve's number. You awaited a text as you bathed- a text that never came, that is. You felt a little silly for ever thinking he'd want this with you but brush the feeling off quickly as it makes you feel physically sick.

You dry off, slip into your favorite night clothes, then slip under your covers. After trying to fall asleep for four hours and either waking up after a few minutes or not being able to fall asleep at all, you text Bucky to see if he's awake. It's about 3 a.m., but he responds after only five minutes to tell you he's coming to your room. The fact that he knew you wanted him to come over without saying it had a smile spreading across your lips.

When he arrived, you hugged him tightly and let out a shaky breath you'd been holding. He pulled away from the hug and looked at you with a concerned expression painted on his face.

"What's wrong?" he asks, hands resting on your arms.

"I'm pregnant, Buck."

You laugh a little to hide the way your voice cracked but Bucky sees right through it. He frowns at the sight of you, taking in the dark bags under your eyes and your skin that was paler than your usual tone.

"Let's go sit down, yeah?" he smiles warmly.

The two of you sit on your bed in silence as you lay your head on his shoulder. You make small talk after a few minutes, Bucky mainly asking questions about what you plan to do and how you feel.

"I'm guessing you told Steve?" he inquires.

He feels you nod slowly against his shoulder and he takes it as a sign to continue.

"And how did he take it?"

You shrug before speaking, "It seemed like he wanted to be a part of it all at first...then he said he didn't want this, but then he said he wasn't sure."

"Huh," he sighs out of confusion, "You know I'm here for you though, right? Both of you are my best friends, no matter how stupid he's being."

"I know you are," you reply.

"I know it's early and all, but have you thought about if you want a girl or boy?" he asks cautiously, worried the topic might upset you, "If you keep it, that is," he quickly adds.

"Buck, can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"I went to Steve's to get his input, but I think I decided to keep it as soon as I found out about it. I hate Steve so much right now, but this baby is a piece of both of us. I can't bring myself to get rid of something so innocent just for being a part of him," you explain, "I know it's not that simple for other people, but I did want kids with him eventually. I'm not unhappy with the pregnancy, I'm unhappy with the circumstances. Boy or girl, I'll be overjoyed either way."

He smiles to himself briefly, "You've got the biggest heart, you know that? You'll be a wonderful mother, y/n, and I mean that."

As hard as he tries to come up with an explanation for his friend's odd behavior, he can't. He'd promised you that he wouldn't go digging for answers when you broke up, you'd told him you didn't care to know and that it wasn't his problem. You're his friend, so he respected that. But now? Now it wasn't just you that Steve was abandoning, which meant that now he had to have answers.

Your breathing slows after a little bit, a sign that he recognizes as you getting sleepy. Slowly, he lays down, cradling your body so that you lay down with him. He lets you rest your head on him as he strokes your hair back soothingly. He waits until he hears your soft snores to gently ease your head onto your pillow before getting off the bed. He'd decided that he was going to get answers, even if it was three-forty in the morning.

Back at the apartment, Steve had only moved once to turn off the lights, pour a glass of alcohol, and sit in your recliner. He would never say it now but he hated being alone in the apartment without you. This wasn't his home, and it never was, not without you there with him. The space that used to be filled with your laughter and your love now felt void of anything other than cold. He sat in the dark, alone with his thoughts, as he did almost every night since you broke up.

His phone buzzed, startling him out of his thoughts. The timing of him getting a message was unusual given the late hour. He picked up the phone and saw it was from Bucky, he smiled softly in hopes that his friend would offer some sort of help. He was sadly mistaken.

Bucky: We need to talk.

Steve frowned at the cryptic message as he typed a response.

Steve: About what?

Bucky's reply was swift.

Bucky: You know exactly what.

A knock sounded at the door no more than ten minutes later. He sighed, mentally preparing himself for whatever talking to he was about to get.

"It's open," he called out.

The door opened to reveal Bucky. As he walked in, the light from outside lit up his face and allowed Steve to see his expression of concern and irritation. He closed the door behind him and then turned to face Steve.

"I'm starting to worry you're turning into a vampire or something, punk. Why are you sitting with all the lights off again? Haven't we had this talk before?" he questions, flipping the overhead light on, "Have you been crying again?"

Steve groans and rubs his wet eyes with his free hand, "No," he lies.

His eyes narrow in Bucky's direction as he walks towards where he's sitting. Steve then brings the drink up to his lips to take a sip only to have it yanked away.

"Buck-"

"Now this is new, is this alcohol?" Bucky asks, bringing the glass up to his nose only to recoil at the scent, "Steve, oh my God, What is in this?"

"Whiskey, tequila, a little bit of everything. Well, everything she left here."

Bucky looks away, desperately trying to contain a laugh, "You can't even get drunk. What are you doing? What's the end goal here?"

"The taste helps me forget how big of an idiot I am," Steve confesses as he snatches his drink back, "It's like a punishment."

"Glad you know you're an idiot, it makes my job here easier."

"Did she send you over here," Steve asks, looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes.

"No, she didn't. But she told me what happened and I came here on my own," Bucky responds, "You know as well as I do that she can fight her own battles."

"Then why are you here?"

"To check on you. And like you said, you're an idiot. I'm here to figure out why you're being such an idiot, though. Whatever Steve you've been for the last four months isn't the Steve I know."

When he doesn't answer, Bucky continues talking, "I've let this go on for far too long. I should've asked when I noticed you were acting weird, but I chalked it up to how rough that last Hydra mission was. But this whole baby thing is the last straw, Steve. I've had to put up with your dumb decisions recently, I deserve an explanation. The woman carrying your child does more so, but we'll get to that."

Steve let out a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped as he realized there was no escaping the conversation. Bucky had always been a straightforward friend. For as long as they knew each other, he was never one to beat around the bush, and he wasn't about to start letting Steve get away with stuff now.

"I don't even know where to start," Steve admits, his voice laced with frustration.

He takes another sip of his drink, hoping it might give him the kick he needs to explain himself. His face turns up at the taste and Bucky tries yet again to conceal a laugh.

"Okay, enough of that," he says, taking the drink back out of Steve's hands.

Bucky crosses his arms and sits on the end of the couch closest to Steve, giving him a stern look, "How about you try starting with why you decided to walk away from her? She's the best thing that ever happened to you, Steve, we both know that."

Steve winces at his words. He knew Bucky was right, as he usually was, but facing the same truth every day didn't make it hurt any less. It actually hurt worse since he knew that this entire situation was his fault.

"So?" Bucky says, urging Steve to speak.

Bucky instinctively brings the glass up to his lips and takes a sip. His expression turns from understanding to disgust as he spits the drink back into the cup.

Steve chuckles under his breath, "Habit?"

"Think it was the feeling of the cup in my hand, not sure why I did that. Guess old habits do die hard," Bucky explains, "Anyways, get to the explaining."

"I... I don't know, Buck. I messed up, bad."

"We already know that, care to elaborate?" Bucky prodded.

"It wasn't up to me, Buck," Steve sighs, speaking again when he sees Bucky's confused look, "Remember that Hydra mission you were just talking about?"

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#marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x reader angst #angst #steve rogers angst #captain america angst #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #steve rogers x reader angst #the winter solider

[ronearoundblindly]

Time and Tines (1/3)

Plans (see series)

Steve Rogers x Villain!Reader for @sweeterthanthis's Bittersweet Symphony Writing Challenge

Can’t change the way we are, One kiss away from killing. —Bishop Briggs, River

Summary: Steve meets the mysterious woman staring at him from across the room.

Warnings for vague injuries, mention of needles, manipulation/brainwashing, SEMI-DARK fic (like I've read worse but it ain't sunny, folks). MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. This work has heavy themes unsuitable for minors. There is plenty else to read on my Light Masterlist if this is not your cup of tea! WC 3.6k

The event isn’t overly loud, but the lights are lower and he is surrounded by people. Steve isn’t fond of crowds, not when he’s not working, not when the event is actually meant to be fun for him. He isn’t Captain America right now. He isn’t the center of attention. He isn’t bothering to mingle. Instead, he’s chosen to humor a long-winded medical rant from the Avenger’s resident doctor of the past half-year.

Salvatore Avani enlightens Steve on several ways he can assess and replicate Erskine’s serum without taking a drop of any super soldier’s blood. It would be an interesting project if Steve hadn’t heard it all before, over and over, from every hopeful doctor and scientist to cross his path. At least Steve gets to be out of his suit for a while and…in another suit, though this one is significantly more forgiving to his stance and skin.

“You see, Captain, your strength can be wielded for so much more than fighting. It could give safety and security to people working unmechanizable jobs,” Dr. Avani points out.

“Not sure that’s a word, sir, but I understand.” Steve swirls whisky around in his tumbler, ice long melted, and wishes—not for the first time—that alcohol still had an effect on him. “A certain amount of modernization does protect those same workers from danger…and no one had to be dosed with anything,” he concludes before emptying the glass in hand.

As Avani opens his mouth to retort, a weight lands on Steve’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Doc,” Bucky interrupts, “just a quick word.”

“Of course, gentlemen.” The doctor turns back around to the bar to order himself another cocktail.

Bucky leans to whisper in Steve’s ear.

“So, punk, we got a situation at three o’clock.”

His whole body tenses, which doesn’t look all that different because Steve has excellent posture, but he deposits the finished glass on the counter and looks over his right shoulder past his friend.

Eyes. Intense and focused eyes meet his before darting down. A few people meander in the space between but you’re all Steve can see for a long moment.

“There it is,” Bucky mutters in recognition.

“Did you just make me look at a dame across the room?” Steve runs a hand over his freshly shaven law and hisses. “Jerk.”

“Uh, that dame’s been staring at you for a solid twenty minutes, but you weren’t noticing. You’re welcome.”

Steve lowers his head, suppressing a grin as best he can and glancing again to his right.

You’ve turned away. You’re fiddling with a glass of clear, bubbly liquid. Vodka soda? Gin and tonic? Those are Steve’s first guesses, but he can’t tell which since both lemon and lime wedges float above the ice.

“Two of whatever she is having,” Bucky asks the bartender helpfully, clapping a pat of encouragement on Steve’s back.

The man behind the bar gives a quizzical look and then shrugs.

Buck winks at him as Steve heads for your high-top table. No one else stands around you. No rings on the hand beside your drink. No way you don’t know he’s coming over even with your eyes down.

“Hi, mind if I join you?”

You smile without looking up. “Only if you brought gifts.” Your voice is small, a little shyer than Steve would expect from someone brazen enough to watch him that long from afar, but he sets his offering on the table anyway.

“I do,” he replies softly, matching your tone, “although what it is is a mystery to me.”

Still smiling, you drain your original glass quickly and confess, “Sierra Mist.”

Steve sucks air through pearly white teeth. “Yikes. More of a 7-Up man myself.”

“Go figure. Captain America has brand loyalty.”

He fails to stop the burst of laughter punched from his chest. It doesn’t scare you though. He’s actually pleased it seems to relax you. He sets his own hand on the table approximately an inch from yours. 

“Touché.”

A faint tremor rolls through that hand but stops after you make a fist and release it.

Steve just starts saying random things that come to mind, and shockingly, it works.

Conversation flows for while as he notices that your dress straps don’t stay put very well and there is a barely visible seam at your hairline. Why you would need to wear a wig, he has no idea. He finds himself almost compelled to say your natural hair is perfect, just like you.

And this is why Steve doesn’t let himself out much.

During one comment regarding the other guests, he sneaks a peek over at Bucky—still beside Avani—and is flashed a thumbs up which he immediately hopes you did not see.

Chatting continues.

Steve isn’t a good flirt, but it seems he’s getting lucky with little lines tonight. He’s willing to push his luck.

“Well, after all this sweetness, maybe we should dance off some energy.” Yet sugar, like alcohol, has no discernible effect on Steve Rogers.

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. I’m a miserable dancer.” You lift your bejeweled clutch up alongside your lemon-lime soda. “Besides how would I carry it all?”

“Well, if they’d make dresses with fuller skirts like they used to,” Steve teases, pushing his half-full glass aside, “you wouldn’t have that problem. The world regressed that way. Real shame.”

“Not a fan of form-fitting gowns?” you cock your head with wide eyes.

Steve’s gaze snaps to his shoes, hoping to choke off the heat rising in his cheeks. It only chokes his words. “Oh, oh god, no. They’re lovely. I meant, ya know, pockets and…I just—I didn’t want anything to stop you.“

“Me neither.”

You take him in with warm assessment and one last evaluation of the room, tucking your lip between your teeth briefly. “You’re in luck,” you add with a laugh. “I’m about to blow your mind, Captain.”

He watches you open the clasp, fish around inside the tiny bag—barely an envelope, really, but Steve learned from Natasha that ladies can hold a scary amount in those things,— and pull out a silvery length like a party trick from the minuscule confines. The new strap allows you to toss the purse over your shoulder.

You present the transformation like it’s a superpower.

“Nifty,” Steve coos.

You nod an acceptance of his awe. “I am nothing if not prepared.”

“And now—“ he offers his hand again “—out of excuses. Bucky tells me I am ‘a sight to behold’ and not in a good way. Shall we prove him right in solidarity?”

You head to the open floor, guided by Steve’s lead. “Not gonna try to prove him wrong?”

He swings you around to face him. “How would I always win as Cap if I bet like that?”

You hum while Steve settles a hand over the satin at your waist. “Picking your battles, huh?” Free and delicate hands land at his shoulders before one smooths down his sleeve, your eyes never leaving his. “And I’m a fight waiting to happen?”

He gets lost for a few bars until he shows his true colors and winces.

“Well, my toes are fighting with yours, clearly.” 

But you simply laugh.

Steve’s brain turns over the steps and his apologies and then finally lands on a good line way after the fact. “Or, no, wait, I’ve got it now.” He squares his shoulders a little more and deepens his voice, comically.

“You’re worth fighting for.”

The snort huffed in his face is perfect, the grin that splits your painted lips over shiny white teeth blinding and well worth his efforts.

“Oh wow. See!” He earns a featherlight slap to the chest. “You do have your charming moments, Captain Rogers.”

“Steve, please—“ he fakes leading you off the floor “—and could we go repeat that in front of—“

“—the extremely grumpy man gripping a beer bottle?” Your sights land across the room toward the bar. “I don’t know, Steve. Your critic looks pretty…something.”

Steve frowns when he sees Bucky. As his friend speaks with Dr. Avani, Bucky’s face pinches solid as stone, overly serious beside the doctor’s casual body language. Buck indeed looks pissed for no reason. 

Steve squints in apology. “He’s not—that’s just—I promise he’s not like that—“

Where’s that teasing joy from a minute ago?

He contemplates that still when your hands release him, and his focus snaps back.

“I need to use the ladies’ room anyway,” you shrug, rubbing a palm up and down your bare arm.

“And then fireworks?” Steve inserts hopefully, almost removing his suit jacket right then to drape over your shoulders. He sounds like an excited schoolboy, and he’s again glad that Bucky is far enough away not to know how obvious he’s being.

You smile, a graceful tug at the dark, matte lipstick sculpted over your full—Rogers. Then a little nod is all you offer before turning to the hall, bag bouncing at your hip on its magic chain.

Steve watches you go, meandering over to Bucky while glancing in your last known direction, until his friend grunts to get his attention.

Avani is gone, but Buck’s face remains sour.

“What on earth did Doc say? Some intel for a mission?” Steve’s only half-curious and fully-distracted though.

His friend just waves off the mood. “Where’s your girl?”

“She’s not…” Steve shakes his head.

“Fine. Where’s your girl for the night?” Bucky raises one eyebrow.

“You know that sounds even worse now than it did back then, right?”

“Well?” Bucky looks around inquisitively.

“Powder her nose—” Steve smirks with rosy cheeks “—then watching the light show.”

He gets a solid smack between his shoulders and a proud nod.

Steve tries to remain patient, he really does, but after a few minutes and nearly every guest settled into their own viewing spot across the long balcony, he checks back over his shoulder.

Nothing.

He excuses himself from Bucky’s side and wanders toward the hallway.

Yes, he knows he’ll look too interested and a bit stalker-esque, but he doesn’t want to miss the show—he doesn’t want you to miss the show with him. There’s gonna be this beautiful display in the sky and you’ll be engrossed enough that he can just look at the changing colors glow across your…

What?!

Around one corner of the wall, Steve sees a foot, one shiny, brown men’s dress shoe, and then another. Someone’s kneeling—shaking if rolling toes are any indication—and then there you are standing over him.

“Doctor Avani?” Steve croaks, watching you raise a syringe and needle high over the man’s head.

You ignore Steve’s arrival.

The doctor’s eyes don’t break from you as he shrieks, “Captain, she’s mad. She—“

“How dare you? Bastard,” you bite out, heaving your weapon at the doctor’s exposed throat as Steve lunges forward.

It punctures the thick, luxurious navy fabric of Steve’s suit, and he feels the slight swelling pressure of liquid entering his forearm.

You release your grip, eyes wild and teeth bared. Gone is the sweet and serene woman with whom he shared a drink and danced.

The syringe stays lodged in Steve’s flesh as he pushes the doctor aside to shield him, but it’s too late for you.

Bucky followed behind him and now wraps your arms behind your back while you struggle to inch toward Avani, spitting insults.

“What was it?” Bucky demands. “What’s in there? What poison?”

Steve rips the needle out, checking it for any clues.

With a scowl, your fierce gaze stays on the doctor.

“Ask him. It’s his brand of suffering.”

Steve watches behind the two-way mirror for a while, deciding how to approach you. After chatting with you for the better part of an hour at the event, he still knows absolutely nothing about you. Every single piece of your preliminary file is news to him. He has to start from scratch, which is, ironically, what you are trying to do to the seam of your wig when he finally enters the interrogation room.

“Tea or water?” Steve sets down the cups.

You stop fidgeting for a beat. “Water is fine. Thank you.”

Polite. You stabbed him with a needle, injected him with an unknown substance, and you’re polite about it? He doesn’t understand the nonchalance. If you meant to kill Dr. Avani, then why aren’t you upset that you failed?

With your hands cuffed and the chain laced through a handlebar built into the table, it’s an awkward strain on your neck. You shove your shoulder high and pulse your head back and forth. Your wrists are thin, thin enough that one good, hard pull might actually snap one.

Polite and uncomfortable. Steve figures showing some courtesy might loosen your tongue.

He unlocks the cuffs and places the water in easy reach, keeping the tea for himself.

He sits and you sip. It’s peaceful when it shouldn’t be.

Avani has no clue who you are or what you want, but Steve couldn’t get many answers during the chaos that ensued after your attack. His own heart rate skyrocketed for a few minutes before normalizing. Otherwise, he’s fine.

He tilts the tea in your direction.

“Here’s hoping you didn’t waste truth serum on me,” he cheers. “Might be the only drug completely useless both after and before Erskine’s formula.”

You’re amused, a smirk lifting fading, dark lips. “Ah yes. Good, honest Captain America.”

“To a fault.”

“No.” Your seriousness stops him cold, and Steve’s smile fades. “It’s not a fault. You’re just rare.”

You value honesty. He can work with that.

“Is that why you chose a drug specifically for the doctor? You didn’t want to harm anyone else, even by accident?”

That shuts you down instead. Steve’s jumped too far, too fast. He’s not allowed to use the same easy tone as before this mess. Maybe he should have found some 7Up…

Silence descends until broken by your heavy swallows of water.

You’re staring down at your reflection in the table’s surface.

“I love stainless steel,” you mutter to no one in particular. “It’s like diffusion. I almost look normal.”

“You mean because you look different?” Steve pulls out your ID found in that small purse. “Why don’t you look ‘normal?’”

You shrug, finally dislodging the precarious strap and it dangles down your arm. “Lost weight.”

“And the hair?”

He was right. Your natural hair in the photo is beautiful. Why the hell are you wearing a wig? If it were obscuring your identity, he imagines you would know not to carry around a real ID.

“Time” is your only answer.

You’re skirting around the truth, lying by omission, waiting for the exact right questions which Steve doesn’t know yet, so he asks something for peace of mind, something that will tell him how long to play this game. “Are you gonna be honest with me?”

Your answer comes easily enough. “Are you gonna be helpful to me?”

Simple. Straightforward. Cutting. It’s said with sorrowful eyes.

He can’t promise anything when he doesn’t know why. “If your purpose is to kill a man then, no, I can’t help you with that.”

Your empty cup lands on the table with a light tonk.

“Maybe I’ll wait until someone who can help walks through that door.”

“In this situation, I believe I’m what’s known as the ‘good cop,’” Steve sighs. “Don’t think you want to dance with the ‘bad cop.’ He’s pretty annoyed he didn’t peg you for an assailant first.”

Nothing about your demeanor changes, not a flinch, not a blink. “Good thing I don’t want to dance with him.”

“He’s not much of a talker either. I’d be a better—“

“I didn’t say I’d talk to him either.”

Steve leans on his elbows, splaying wide across the table. “Just tell me your story. I am here to listen.”

“That makes this sound like a first date.”

“Bucky would likely agree—“ he snorts “—and he’d make a point to say this is going about as well as any date I’ve been on this century. Please,” Steve tries again, “ talk to me.”

There’s a long pause. Your intense gaze remains steady. Whatever your reasons, they don’t strain your moral fortitude. You are a believer, faithful to this unknown cause.

Carefully, quietly, you respond. “It’s not my story to tell. Ask your doctor.”

“If it’s not your story, where are the others? Can they tell it? Are they alive?”

Steve is more perceptive than you counted on judging by your slight head shake.

You flop yourself backward in the seat.

Steve was right. It’s not a what you act for, it’s a who. And they are dead.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says earnestly.

This—that simple sentiment—gets the greatest reaction so far. Your lip twitches, and you shimmy against the hard chair. You scratch at your wig again, before your focus returns to the table. There are tears welling in your eyes.

No one has said that before now, he realizes. How long has it been since they passed? Why are you the only mourner? Why aren’t you moving on?

Suddenly, irritation stirs in Steve, and he can’t believe how stubborn you’re being when he is your best option. He is the only one that will have this soft spot for you, the only one who truly wants to help because he truly wants to know why.

“So you’re avenging,” he bursts, tossing his arms out, dramatically looking around the bland room. 

Protocol dictated they take you to the nearest precinct for questioning. Only if you were enhanced, only if you had special abilities would you be transported all the way to the compound. So on his night off, while attending a party that actually entertained him for once, you’ve shown up with a syringe that doesn’t do anything and made him miss the fireworks. You’ve made him lose time being content, a rare gift in his line of work.

Steve is frustrated, to say the least. He stands to pace his side of the table.

“Avenging, huh? Gosh, I wish I knew anything about that… anyone in this building even… wherever will we find someone who understands?”

“You don’t do sarcasm very much, do you?” you snip, energy level remaining low compared to his spiked bluster. “I’d like to tell ‘bad cop’ what a terrible dancer you are now. He’s not going to be surprised you made me cry, is he? That’s probably normal, too.”

“Surprised? No.” Steve knocks on the mirror, sick of playing, sick of being wrong, sick of choosing unwisely. “How could he be when he’s been listening this whole time?” 

You’re trapped, but you aren’t acting like a caged animal. Something is…off, and Steve realizes he’s too close to the situation—ridiculous as that may be—after just two hours of knowing you. His best friend will have better luck.

Bucky opens the door a few seconds later, armed to the teeth as an intimidation tactic.

It’s disconcerting that your expression brightens once a man sporting three guns and—counting the hidden few—eight knives enters the room. That’s got Steve’s attention.

“So she’s giving you trouble?” Bucky mutters.

He’s grateful Buck doesn’t go the ‘you sure can pick ‘em, Rogers’ or ‘better luck next millennium’ route. Steve shakes his head.

You itch at your wig, face twisted, and glance up at Steve.

“May I take this off?”

Still polite. The niceties are actually making his blood boil at this point because he does not get it yet.

“Fine,” he snaps, rolling his eyes when Bucky purses his lips at Steve’s tone.

“Listen, doll, I think the best course of action is to let you stew in here for a while. When you’re ready to tell us what you know, then—“

“Oh, I can tell you what I know now,” you say casually, pulling out bobby pin after bobby pin to tuck between your teeth. “I know the protocol for a low-level threat like myself is the nearest local law enforcement facility, I know that—due to an unfortunate instance of food poisoning from a birthday cake earlier today—most of this precinct is empty. I know that all three of you would prefer to incapacitate your targets rather than kill them.”

You set the little pile of pins down on the table by your undone chain, pulling a hair comb from the back of your wig to finally release it.

“There’s only two of us here,” Steve says in confusion.

“No.” You point the forked hair comb at Bucky and push yourself out of the chair. “Winter’s in there.”

Before the words can even register, you slam the tines of the tuning fork against the edge of the steel table. The noise is piercing and specific.

Steve covers his ears, but Bucky doesn’t move. He can’t turn away from you.

“Restrain him,” you order, “and get me out of here.”

“Buck, wait—“

The vibranium arm threatens to crush Steve’s windpipe as the force slides him up the mirrored wall.

The Winter Soldier’s cold, vacant grey eyes watch as Steve’s vision fades to black, and Steve wonders how the hell he could be so wrong.

Then it’s quiet and he wonders no more.

A/N: This story is a doozy, gang, but I promise, explanations are ahead!

[Next Part] [preview]

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#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #villain!reader #bittersweet symphony writing challenge #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #winter soldier bucky barnes #captain america fanfiction #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america angst #time and tines

[sweetsbfreex]

hey mama

Summary: Steve never got the chance to say goodbye to his mother, never got the closure. He woke up out of the ice and was no longer a son. You get him a birthday gift for the comfort he never received.

Warnings: talk of parent death/trauma. 

Pairings: bf!steve rogers x reader 

-

You work late nights just to keep on the lights/ Mommy got me trainings wheels so i could keep on my bike/ And you would give me anything in this world

- 

It’s a chill night. You, Steve, and Wanda are in the living room, sprawled on the couch as a movie plays. 

Steve’s been a bit reserved the past few days and just not himself. Your guess was the Anniversary of the passing of his mother, Sarah Rogers.

Evidently, you never got a chance to meet the sole provider of the Rogers household. But he always talks about her. Always telling you how much she would’ve loved you and the fact that you make the best chocolate chip cookies would’ve won her over. 

Dozed off and laid on the couch, his head on your lap is Steve. Your fingers run through his hair and facial features in a delicate manner.

Your eyes are stuck to the screen when you feel him shift. Looking down his eyes are shut tight, nose scrunched just a bit, and his eyebrows furrowed together. Then he mewls silently before his voice drops.

This isn’t anything new, but the whispers of a broken ‘momma’ breaks your heart. 

Wanda looks on with a sorrow frown on her face before she lifts up a scarlet, glowing hand towards Steve. And just like that he's quiet. His face relaxes and a small smile adorns his face. 

You thank her, sincerely, before descending to place a kiss on his warm cheek. 

A MONTH BEFORE HIS BIRTHDAY 

You’ve researched and researched. Wikipedia, museums catered to Steve, Wolfram, and hundreds of World War Two resources. Most of them faintly brush on his family and not one obtained a picture of his mom. 

At this point, you were desperate. Wanting to give Steve a birthday gift that would procure a sense of home he could take anywhere.

So, here is where Tony and Wanda are rallied up. 

-

Wanda: 

Wanda's role is to capture how Sarah Rogers looked and Sounded, by getting into Steve's head.

“Steve,” you call his name while plopping onto his lap without any warning. He adjusts immediately, so his are arms wrapped around you. 

“You all right, doll” he kisses your nose. 

“I’m okay, are you though? Seems like you’re not getting much sleep lately” you hum, your hand caressing his jaw.

“Yeah” he huffs, “I think ma’s anniversary is…I guess taking a toll on me. More than it usually does.”

“Have you seen Dr. Cho about it? She helped me a lot when my dad passed away.” 

“I didn’t think about that, I’ll talk to her about it soon.” 

Your fingers clasp his cheeks, making sure he looks at you.

“…and you know I’m here too, if you need someone to talk to,” 

“I know, honey, thank you,” he squeezes your hips, locking his plump lips to yours. 

-

You didn’t have to beg Tony as much as you thought you would. You only proposed the idea once and he agreed. 

Now, today was the day! 

You celebrated Steve first thing in the morning with endless kisses, cuddles, and a stack of his favorite pancakes. Later in the day, Tony’s house (if you could even call it that) is decorated and filled with close friends.

It was the same every year. A combined barbecue and birthday celebration in honor of Captain America/Steve. Steve never complained, he enjoyed getting to spend his birthdays with his found family and best girl. 

-

Steve sat in the middle of the couch, a blue birthday hat on his head. He smiles and thanks everyone for their gifts. 

Lastly, you hand the wrapped cube with a red and blue bow on the top. 

“Happy Birthday, Stevie,” you beamed. He grabs the box with a thank you and a kiss to your cheek. 

Once he’s unwrapped it, he’s met with a silver compact engraved with an antique-like design on the top. He can’t lie that he’s pretty confused on why you would get him blush, or any other makeup product you have.

He peers up at you, a look of puzzlement.

“Open it,” you whisper, urging him on. Your heart picks up its pace. Having no idea how he’ll react to such a personal gift. He opens it, and notices how the lights begin to dim. 

In a flash, his mother. Well, from the chest up, his mother is in front of him. Her blond hair is pulled back and pinned with her silver barrette ( like she always wore it.)

She’s a hologram standing in front of him, after the many years he’s gone without her. Without saying goodbye. He can’t believe his eyes are watching his inherited soft baby blues look straight at him, with the familiar warm close-lipped smile on her face. 

The birthmark on her cheekbone is even there. She’s so life-like, it’s mind-boggling. 

You watch how Steve’s eyes widen and glisten. His breath catches. You also speculate how Bucky grips the couch for support while he gasps at the sight in front of him, as if she was alive. 

“Steven...” Her head and eyes move fluently as she looks at him. 

His ears start to ring. It’s her voice, exactly how he’s always heard in his dreams. It’s what he always heard as he was being berated for getting into another fight as she patched him up. Yet in the end she smiled telling him how proud she was that he stayed up for what’s right. 

The voice he heard bid him well before school after an embarrassing kiss to his sunken cheeks and Bucky’s rosy one.

“Happy Birthday, my angel. You look so dashing, I wish I could squeeze your cheeks so you can whine in dismay.”

Steve chuckles airily, he had told you about that: his mother’s tendency to squeeze his cheeks whenever she saw him. 

“You are my pride, my love, and my everything. I am proud of the man you’ve become and always were, all of us are. You choose kindness and integrity over everything and that is what makes you my special boy. 

I don’t  want you to ever feel alone, because I am always with you, watching over you. In your heart and every step you take. Look around and there I will be. But know I miss you always.”

He feels her warm smile all around him, and can barely see as tears drop every second. 

“I love you and James, always.” 

It blips away and he feels like he can breathe again. It’s what he’s always wished: to hear her voice one more time without the tragic endings his brain spewed. 

The energy in the room shifts. Everyone knows the story of Steve Rogers, so they know this is a big deal for him. 

You blink before you feel familiar arms wrap around your lower-waist; the face you love shoves into your neck; and tears on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he chokes out and you squeeze him tighter as you caress the back of his head. 

“Of course. It wasn’t only me, Wanda helped with the graphics and Tony built everything.” you smile, kissing his cheek when he pulls away. 

He turns to the two, “Thank you so much, you don’t know what this means to me.”

They respond warmly. 

You turn to Bucky who has a wispy look on his face, “Bucky, if you’d like, Tony said he would love to make you one.”

Bucky nods in a response, a tight smile on his face. He never got to see his Ma either. Only reading one letter she mailed to him before being captured by Hydra for what felt like eternity. 

-

The fireworks were meant to start any minute. It was a special formula for the veterans, children, and animals that attended. Around Tony’s expansive backyard, everyone was either seated in a chair or blanket on the lush grass. 

You and Steve are sharing a blanket. His larger body encases yours as your back meets his chest, and his arms wrap around you tightly. The feel of tender lips against your temple results in quiet giggles. 

“You’re. Amazing.” With a kiss in between.  

A hand holds your jaw, tilting it up to his. “You really are. I don’t think you know how much that gift means to, to Bucky even. I never thought I'd get to see her face like that ever again. I never even got a chance to say goodbye. You brought me closure…” his voice catches. 

“I love you, y/n”

Your eyes gloss at his admission as you smile shyly. Your body shifts as you throw an arm around his neck, “Happy Birthday, Steve” your breath mingles with his as you bring him for a kiss. 

Fireworks blaze in the air, coloring the sky. 

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

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[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 5:

Rearview

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Pink Peonies Next Part: Little Birdie

Word Count: 6,610

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts, anxiety, and sever depression.

Gentle knocks barely caught Bucky's attention from his spot on the couch in his apartment. All the lights were off, and it was quickly nearing bedtime as a show played a little louder than it probably should.

He thought he was hearing things until it happened again, this time he got up and looked through the peephole in his front door. To his surprise you were standing there.

The door swung open with a sense of urgency and Bucky on the other side. His eyes were immediately soft and concerned, his posture relaxed as he leaned onto the doorframe.

"Bug, what happened to you?" He questioned sounding sounding worried as he took in your appearance.

Comfortable work out shorts and a hoodie was pretty much all you wore during your time off of work in the building that always seemed to be air conditioned to a temperature a few degrees below your comfortability, but this time your hair was thrown up in a messy bun, your cheeks pink and your eyes and nose red, but the main point of concern was your arm in a sling.

Bucky had been way better at respecting your boundaries and giving you the space you needed to heal more than anyone else in your life at the moment, and right now, you just really needed a friend. You had some reluctant confidence that he would be willing to listen to you, maybe even give you a hug if you were lucky, and you were also reluctantly confident in your ability to forgive him at this point.

"Hey, I'm really sorry to bother you but I was just hoping you had a few minutes to talk about what happened today?" You pitched.

Bucky was admittedly taken back by your appearance. Your mental health was taking a toll on you, and it was becoming evident. Even since he last saw you a week ago at your evaluation, you looked sadder, frailer, and smaller.

His hand latched onto the upper arm that wasn't in a sling and he gave it a gentle squeeze as he stepped into the hallway, letting his door close behind him.

"Tell me about it" he nodded.

"Um, Harvey yanked my arm back and trapped me against the wall in the hallway earlier today. He dislocated my shoulder" You admitted with a big deep breath, really trying to keep your composure. "I went to the med bay, they popped it back in place but suggested I rest it and take it easy for a few days, hence the sling."

"Oh you poor thing, that sounds painful." Bucky's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?"

You let out a sad chuckle. "No, I'm not." The admission slipped past your lips for the first time ever.

"M'sorry" Bucky sunk into himself.

"Right after it happened I went to training with Steve, it didn't go well." You explained. "He got mad that I was late, and he really wasn't interested in hearing about what made me late or why I was clutching my shoulder and crying. He grabbed my arms and pulled them behind my back then tied my wrists together. The doctor thinks it wasn't completely dislocated until I had to get myself out of the rope. He gave me pain killers and a pretty strong dose of Xanax to calm me down from the panic attack I was having because of him."

"Steve did that to you?" Bucky questioned quietly in disbelief. "I can't believe he did that."

"I don't think he meant to, but whether it was his intention or not, it happened and the bridge has been burned." You gently nodded. "I couldn't believe it either."

"I don't know what to say." Bucky shook his head sadly.

It was evident that Bucky was stuck between a rock and a hard place in this situation. He kept doing what he thought was right, but he still felt immense guilt that his friends were hurting as a result of it.

"You don't need to say anything." You reassured him. "Rogers made it clear that he's not my boss anymore, and Commander Bennett is sleeping so I figured you'd be next in line as a higher up to make informed that I can't report for duty for a minimum of 24 hours because I'm under the influence of benzodiazepines. It's noted in my medical chart."

"Okay, you rest up and I'll make sure to tell him in the morning." Bucky noted. "How are you feeling right now?"

"A little out of it, but the pain isn't nearly as bad so that's all I could've ever hoped for."

"Mental or physical?"

"Both." You admitted. "I'm sure I'll be feeling a lot worse tomorrow, but I'll leave that to be a problem for myself in the future."

"Steve mentioned to me that you quit the rest of training with him, is this why?" Bucky questioned hesitantly.

"Yeah, it is." You sadly confessed. "Ever since the initial fight, seeing him every day has been pretty hard. After today I realized I really need to prioritize my health before being a good agent. I can't go out and fight on a battlefield if I can barely get out of bed anymore. Plus with my shoulder I can't do strenuous physical activity for a week, and after that there would only be one more week of training left so it would be pretty useless."

"Prioritizing your health is important to being a good agent." Bucky reminded you. "Although it makes me sad to hear, I hope you know I'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself to anyone that's causing you pain."

"Thanks." You crossed your arm close to your body, chickening out on the conversation you initially came for.

You weren't stupid, you knew there was a reason why he wasn't inviting you into his place, and that reason was either Natasha or Steve. Either way, you didn't want to interrupt.

An awkward silence fell over the two of you, and it made your skin crawl. Both of you were far too wrapped up in your own heads just trying to find the right thing to say to each other, but the words never appeared, so you put an end to it.

"oh...and uh thanks for handling Commander Bennett in the morning. It'll be nice to sleep in and not have to worry about waking up early."

"Does he know you're going to quit training? I can tell him about that too."

"He doesn't, but that's not in his jurisdiction anymore so it's fine."

"Got it." Bucky nodded.

"See you around." You awkwardly lifted your hand in an attempts to wave and walk off.

"Hey, would it be okay if I checked on you tomorrow?" Bucky asked. "It's okay if you're not ready for that yet, but I still worry about you a lot. I just want to make sure you're doing okay."

"Yeah, that's fine. You can stop by whenever." You agreed.

"Thanks" Bucky accepted sadly. Then, what he really wanted to say rolled off his tongue unapologetically. "I really miss you, Bug."

"I miss you too." You agreed, the pain you've become rather familiar but never comfortable with was clawing at your chest again. "A lot, actually. But I don't see a situation in which Steve would be okay with us hanging out again, and I know how important your friendship is with each other and I'd never want to be the one to drive a wedge into that."

"I hope you don't take this as me defending him, because I'm not. I promise I'm not." Bucky started. "But I've known him my whole life, I'd like to think I have a good read of his character, and this is nothing like him. He said some really dumb things to you, but bug? I've never seen him this upset with himself in my entire life."

"I don't think there's anything I can do about that." You shook your head. "He's in your place right now, isn't he?

"Yeah, he is." Bucky told you the truth. "He told me about what happened today, he cried for the first time in a few years because he feels terrible about it and how he made you feel."

You swallowed thickly. "That's not an apology for his behavior."

"It's not, but I'm trying to help you understand each other better. If I can attest to anything, it's that you found out about his crush on you at the worst time imaginable. He loves and cares about you so much, and none of it is ill intended. The reason he kept it in for so long was because he was scared of exactly this situation happening, and he's mortified that he broke your friendship and trust in him. Yes, he's been avoiding talking about it because he was hurt by what we did, but now I think he understands and he's avoiding it because he thinks you hate him."

"I don't hate him" You denied. "I'm mad at the way he's handling this, but I don't hate him."

"I know" Bucky nodded.

"He was really angry when I got to training." You told Bucky. "I've never been scared of him before, but I was terrified of him today. I don't know what he was mad about, but I think it was because I was late. I was only late because Harvey was being an asshole, but Steve told me pointedly that he didn't care."

"He was mad at himself, and it was making him grumpy. He's been like this for a week now."

"I don't know how to move past the way he made me feel earlier. It's like I'm scared to see him again because I'm scared that he's still going to scare me." You explained. "It was like there was no traces of my friend left in there, it felt like he was Captain America, and I was the enemy, and there was no mercy for whatever I did to make him mad."

Bucky sighed because he's seen Steve that angry before, and he knew how scary he really can get. He's a tall, muscular guy, and you're barely five-foot-something with far less fighting experience.

"He would never hurt you" Bucky reminded you. "He knows he scared you, and he's having a breakdown because of it."

"He did hurt me, Buck. In more ways than one." You reminded him. "I love him, I really do, but I'm not responsible for his reaction to the way he hurt me. He scared me, he berated me, and he broke my heart but that's his own doing, and he has to deal with the consequences of that just how I have to deal with the consequences of what happened between you and I and how that made Steve feel."

"I get it." He agreed.

"I'm glad that you two seem to be on okay terms, but you understand how that's bullshit, right?"

"Yeah." Bucky practically whispered.

"Well, for what it's worth I'm sorry you're in the position of being stuck in the middle." You apologized. "I love you, I forgive you for telling Steve because I understand why you did it, and I'll always be here for you if you need me, but I also know I can't be the priority."

"Bug, that's not-"

"It's fine, I get it." You saved him from his own lie. "If he's already struggling, are you going to tell him about my shoulder?"

"I don't know." Bucky sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Should I?"

You shrugged with your one good arm. "You know him better than I ever will."

"Do you want to talk to him?" Bucky asked already knowing the answer, but he had to give it a shot.

"Not tonight." You denied. "If he wants to talk about it he can come to me, but right now I'm a little high on crazy pills and pain killers so I'd rather wait until I have more time to get into my right mind."

"I understand."

"Thanks for listening, it was really nice seeing you again." You said sincerely.

"Thank you for trusting me. Can I give you a hug?" He asked knowing you needed one desperately.

You nodded and opened your good arm for him, he hugged you gently to avoid hurting you, but it was still healing in a way you haven't felt in a while.

"Don't be a stranger, okay? We can talk more about it whenever you need to in order to make it better. I love you bug, I still want to be your friend and I know we can make it work."

"I appreciate it." You nodded.

"Do you need help getting back to your apartment? I can walk you home."

"I'll be okay." You reassured him. "Have a good night, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Tomorrow came around, and Bucky did eventually come check on you. He found you in bed around 4pm fast asleep with a romcom playing quietly in the background. It made him

Sad to wake you up, but he did it anyways just to make sure you were okay and that you didn't need anything, and once he was convinced that you were okay he left you alone.

Then, that was the last anyone had seen you for 4 whole days. Was it your intention to stay in your apartment for that long? No. But things happen, mental health quickly spirals, and your body felt sick. It was like there was an external force locking you in the walls of your home, and imaginary restraints tying you to your bed.

You were scared to leave because you didn't want to get attacked again, scared to report to work because you didn't want to see Harvey or Steve again, and you were scared to move because you were so tired of being in pain. So yeah, your apartment became your little safe space, but you never realized you were the point of concern around the building.

Especially not so much that you woke up once more, but this time Steve was sitting on the edge of your bed looking absolutely terrified as he gently shook your arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" Steve asked the second your eyes opened, eyebrows pinching together in concern.

You grumbled something he couldn't understand before turning away and covering your entire head with a blanket.

"Wait, stop, I'm not joking. Are you okay?" Steve asked, this time you could hear the genuine worry in his voice.

"Why are you here?" You asked with an adorable glare as your head popped out of the blanket. “What part of leaving me the hell alone do you not understand?”

He hated that it almost made him smile. "No one has seen or heard from you in 4 days. We got so many concerned reports of your disappearance that they made me to a mandated wellness check."

"Obviously I'm well, you can go now." You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets and turned away from him again.

"You're not obviously well. It's 2pm and you're in bed, you haven't answered anyone's texts or phone calls, and you were supposed to report to Fury today to see if you were okay enough to get back to work. Everyone is worried."

"I'm fine."

"You're watching pride and prejudice." Steve noted simply. "You're not fine."

"Tell Fury I'll report to him in an hour."

"Fury is gone for a while, I think he's out until the end of the month." Steve explained.

"Commander Bennett, then."

"Out of jurisdiction" he reminded you. "That's why Fury sent me."

"Then who can I talk to in an hour?"

"Me." Steve sighed, knowing that's not what you wanted to hear.

"Do you have a meeting spot available in an hour?"

"No, my schedule is full for the rest of the day."

"Tomorrow?"

"Dude, I'm here right now. What's wrong?" Steve asked, his heart pounding and cracking in his chest.

"What time you you have available tomorrow?"

"8am." Steve said simply.

"Fine. I'll take it." You agreed, closing you eyes and trying your best to pretend like this wasn't happening.

"I'm not allowed to leave until I'm convinced you're okay." Steve noted. "Are you sure you don't want to push the meeting up to right now?"

"Positive." You grumbled. "Sometimes when heavy conversations are sprung on someone with no time to prepare for them, it leads to overly emotional responses. Ever heard of something like that happening before, Rogers?"

"Maybe once or twice." He made the active choice to not bite at the argumentative bait you threw him. "How's your shoulder?"

"Attached and functioning."

"When was your last full meal?"

Once again, you turned your head to glare at him. "If I answer these stupid questions does that mean you'll get out of my apartment and go back to pretending like I don't exist?"

"This is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you" Steve told you. Really, seeing you look so broken down and worn out made him genuinely sad, but right now you weren't looking for his pity. Quite honestly, he was worried about how you would react to him if he expressed how concerned he really was.

Now with knowing what you knew, Steve was at least smart enough to know that if he reacted to this scenario as a coworker, or a boss, or even a friend, all of his concern would be directed straight to the romantic advancement category of your brain. He knew that he always would and always will care for you regardless of if you rejected his feelings for you or not, but in this situation where that information was taken horribly wrong, the best thing he could do was stay neutral and respect that you didn't want to be part of his life anymore.

You didn't want him to care, you didn't want him to be there, you didn't want to get out of bed, and you didn't even want anyone to notice you were gone for so long.

Yet, somehow on the very flip side of the coin, you were mad at him for not expressing that he was more worried about you than he was letting on, you wanted him to just stay with you and fight for a spot back in your life, you wanted to just get out of your congested apartment and breathe some air that wasn't from the buildings circulation system, you wanted to go on a long run and feel the cold morning air, and you wanted the same people who reported you as missing in action to care enough about your existence to actually be nice to you beyond a mandated report.

But really, you just couldn't get yourself to do anything.

Leaving was overwhelming, staying made you want to cry, and there was no solution in between those two options.

"Hey, did I lose you?" Steve asked.

"No. Sorry." You shook your head.

"When was the last time you ate?" He repeated.

"Dinner last night." You grumbled. "I would've lied and said I ate lunch today, but your bullshit detector is almost unfair and I think anything but the truth would make you even more worried."

"At least you're honest." Steve sighed. "Last time you drank?"

"This morning"

"Water?"

"Coffee."

Steve frowned. "Last time you left your apartment?"

"I saw Bucky after I got released from medical, whenever that day was."

"Last time you went outside? Had fun? Hung out with a friend? Anything?"

"I played The Sims 4 yesterday, it was riveting." You said dryly.

"Any future plans you're looking forward to? Something? Anything? Literally just give me anything to work with."

"Ooh!" You perked up. "There's a new sim's expansion pack coming out next week it costs $40 but it's okay because if you break down the cost per hour you play it, it really is cents to a dollar."

"Oh my gosh" Steve sighed, running his hand through his hair and tugging at the ends a big trying to relive the stress you had caused him. "I can't in good conscience say you passed a wellness check."

"I'm trying my best dude, this is all I got. I don't know what else you want from me." You huffed.

You watched Steve's eyebrows furrow in concern as he checked his wrist watch for the time. "Okay, here's the deal."

"If this ends with me in grippy socks and a gown I'm going to be so undeniably pissed off at you."

"You're already undeniably pissed off at me so that's not very threatening, but, no I don't think you need that at this very moment." Steve corrected you. "I have 45 minutes until I have to get to a meeting. If you can pull yourself together and leave your apartment to go get food and do something fun, then check back in with me in a few hours, I'll mark you as well."

"That sounds like a lot of money and effort." You complained.

Steve sighed and pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his nice jeans, then handed you a card between his two fingers. "Take the company card, I'll mark the charges as a business expense."

Only then did your face light up, and you happily grabbed the heavy silver card from his hand. "I think I can work with this."

"The rules are that I need cold hard proof you ate and did at least one activity that'll make you feel better, I don't care what that is. And I need the card back by the end of the day, no ifs ands or buts."

"Deal."

"Okay great, you have 44 minutes now to get out of the building." Steve reminded you.

"Are you really going to stay until I leave?" You questioned, tone full of annoyance and dread.

"Yeah, that's part of the deal."

"Ugh, fine." You ripped the blankets off of yourself. "Can you at least go into the living room so I can shower and change in peace?"

"As you wish" Steve stood up and raised his hands in defense. "But don't make me late, you know I hate being late."

"How could I ever forget?" You rolled your eyes.

More bait that Steve refused to bite, so he quietly walked out of your room and softly closed the door behind him. Sitting on the couch and waiting, half an hour later you flew through your bedroom door and didn't miss a single beat as you flew through the living room and grabbed your purse off the rack.

"Come on, Captain, i'd hate it if you were late under any circumstance!" You said sarcastically, pulling open the front door as he shot up off the couch. "Even if it was completely out of your control!"

"I'm choosing to not respond to that" Steve grumbled, following you out and down the hall with confidence your door would automatically lock as it slammed shut behind the two of you.

Calling the elevator did nothing to slow either of you down as the doors automatically opened, and you shoved yourself into the furthest corner you could, trying your hardest to ignore your racing heart and internal panic over being forced out of the compound. He could read the anxiety on your facial expressions, and feel it radiating off of you as if you were telepathically sending it to him.

You hit the lobby button, Steve hit the floor his office was on.

Since his floor was above the lobby, the doors opened once more and it was his turn to get off. "Have fun, be safe, give me the card back today."

"Wait? When was I supposed to give it back to you?" You made one last sarcastic jab before the doors closed, completely shielding you from his annoyed face.

As per his request, you got food, spent more than a few hours and a few hundred at a beauty salon, made a quick stop home before Steve texted you that he was out of his last meeting.

So you made a leisurely walk over to his office, and knocked twice before entering. He looked tired and more than ready to turn in work for the day as he straightened out the haphazard papers and various sticky notes on his desk.

"That pothos is looking a bit sad." You noted, leaning in the doorway.

The once happy plant with bright green leaves with tiny cream colored patches was now droopy and under watered.

"It's not sad, it's just dramatic when it needs some water. I watered it a few minutes ago, it'll perk up again soon" He explained, looking at the plant, then up to you. "Oh, you got your hair done."

Your hair was now perfectly styled, cut a little shorter, and was a little lighter throughout the ends. Steve also noticed your casual street ware was replaced with your favorite sweatpants and a cropped t shirt. He once again cursed himself for thinking about how beautiful you were when he really should've still been mad at you.

"And my nails, and my eyebrows." You noted, holding up your hands for him to see. "Is this enough evidence?"

"I guess it is." He nodded. "What did you get to eat?"

"Dim sum" you admitted. "Here's the card."

It wasn't the cheapest option in the world, but every few weeks you and Steve would happily splurge and go get dim sum together because it was just so good. But hey, if you had the company card, you we're definitely going to fill your belly up with bao and dumplings.

"Thanks." He took it back from you. "Do you feel any better?"

"Yeah, maybe a little bit." You nodded. "But I am going to continue on with that meeting in the morning, oh, and definitely finish pride and prejudice."

"Would you like to have the meeting now? I'll stay late, I don't mind." He asked. Staying late was the last thing he wanted to do, but nothing would be worse than living with the anxiety that this unknown meeting was causing him.

"No it's fine, you seem tired." You denied. "And by the way, did you know the company card works on The Sims 4?! Now I'm even more excited for that new expansion pack because I didn't have to pay for it!"

He could tell you were still deeply sad and exhausted by your surroundings, but your fake enthusiasm wasn't helping him feel any less concerned by your state of being.

"Lovely. I'm happy for you." Steve said dryly.

"See you in the morning, Captain Rogers. 8 am, don't be late."

And just like that, you slipped past his office door. Steve wished it was physically possible to kick himself in that moment. He so desperately wanted to just talk to you, he wanted to explain himself, express to you that he loved and cared for you regardless of where the two of you stood, he wanted to be a good friend and be there for you through this very obvious rough patch, but he couldn't.

The words never properly formulated whenever he was within eyeshot of you, yet the second you left and when he would lay awake at night staring up at the dark ceiling unable to sleep, those words formed perfectly and passionately with no way to express them in a way you deserved to hear.

Just like always, he laid awake all night just for 8 am to come around. Promptly on time, you were back in his office.

As you took a seat in the very familiar chair across his desk, he noticed three things. The first being that you weren't in uniform, the second being that even though you looked beautiful, you no longer looked like yourself, and last but not least, the words escaped him again.

The concealer under your eyes did little to hide the fact that you had been crying, the blush on your cheeks didn't fool him into believing that the life hadn't been drained from your face. Your eyes were dull, your sweet and spunky personality that he loved so much had been missing for a month now. You were right in front of him, but you felt like a ghost and he found himself missing you.

"You're on time" Steve noted. "I stopped for a coffee this morning and grabbed you one too since you're the first meeting of my day."

Steve placed the perfectly ordered vanilla cold brew in front of you, "oh, thanks. I appreciate that."

"Will you please tell me what's going on now?" Steve practically begged. This very meeting had been looming over his head in a storm cloud of anxiety since yesterday.

Without saying anything, you handed him a piece of paper. He took it from your shaky hands with a dreadful look in his eye, so you sat and sipped your coffee and looked at the swirls in the wood of his beautifully stained desk while awaiting his reaction.

The first and only thing his eye picked up before he refused to read more was 'This letter is intended to notify you of my resignation in two weeks from S.H.I.E.L.D.'

"No." Steve said sternly before sliding your resignation letter right back to you.

"No?" You questioned.

"Absolutely not."

"I'm quitting and you're saying...no?" You cocked your head to the side, trying not to cry out of immediate frustration. "You understand that's probably illegal?"

"When have I ever been one to follow the law?" He asked rhetorically. "I can't let you throw everything you've worked so hard for away just because of me. Nuh-uh. Not going to happen."

"This has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me." You corrected him.

"Why do you think this is the best choice for you right now?" Steve poked, trying his hardest to ignore the way his heart was sitting in the bottom of his stomach.

You braced yourself with a big breath, and accepted the presence of the never ending tears that always stung your eyes nowadays. "Being here has proven to be the worst experience for my mental health, and I need it to get better because I'm scared of what will happen to me if it doesn't."

"There are other things we can try before taking a step this drastic." Steve pleaded.

You shook your head in denial. "I can't get out of bed anymore."

"I'll get you a therapist."

"I've barely been able to eat, shower, work out." You continued painting the picture for him while quickly wiping away a tear. "This is the furthest I've ever been from myself. I look in the mirror and don't recognize my reflection, all i want to do is sleep so I don't have to deal with the constant state of anxiety I'm in just to wake up and hate that I feel numb. I've lost control over my own emotions and I can't take it anymore. We all saw this coming, Steve, so please just let me go."

"Harvey is literally one write up away from getting fire-"

"Four months ago, it had been 3 years since the last time I cried. Now I think I cry about three times a day, and sometimes I need to cry but nothing happens. It's like I'm losing my mind and I hate it."

"But..."

"I never took a day off or called out since I started shield until that one mission when Harvey made sure I got hurt. Ever since then I've been getting hurt more, working less, having to take days off left and right. At this rate, I'd rather go quietly before I get fired."

"Nobody is going to fire you." Steve denied.

"Even before everything happened, I haven't been happy here. My friends and my boyfriend were the only ones keeping me sane and tying me down to the compound, but now? I don't have a boyfriend or even friends for that matter. Everyone here hates me. Nothing is grounding me."

"Do you have another job lined up?" Steve sank in his chair.

"I'll figure it out."

"You know quitting means you'd lose your housing?" Steve challenged. "Do you have another living situation lined up?"

"Yeah, I have two places and two sets of people waiting for me."

You were being cryptic, but Steve knew you were talking about your Sister and Brother in-Law, and your Mom and Dad.

"But you haven't signed a lease yet?"

"No, not yet." You sniffled.

There was a break in conversation, Steve's wheels obviously moving and cranking desperately trying to come up with a solution. So you sat and dissociated from the situation while talking small and slow sips of your coffee.

"Okay, since I legally can't say no to you right now, here's what we're going to do." Steve sat up, and rolled his chair closer into the desk. "I'm putting you on a two week paid leave of absence instead. Take the two weeks to get out of the compound, stay with whoever is waiting for you and really focus on yourself. Really think about what you want, then at the end of the two weeks if you still think that you don't want to do this anymore, that's fine. I'll terminate your employment on the spot, no need for another notice."

"Okay" You accepted. Not only was it a good deal, but it got you out of the compound as soon as today, and all you wanted to do was run out of the doors and never come back.

He started typing around on his computer, and a piece of paper came out of the printer that jumped on. "In the meantime I also really want you to consider this." You grabbed the warm paper from his hands, and looked it over to see that it was the benefits list to the Avengers position. "You'd move up into the loft with the rest of us, you'd never have to see any of the other agents again if you didn't want to. The job is easier- not as busy with more downtime. Everyone loves you and wants you there, plus it would be an increase in pay with better benefits and a killer 401k."

"Everyone?" You asked, "I can think of two people that probably wouldn't want me there right now."

He gave you a disappointed dad stare. "Everyone, and I mean that."

"Much to think about." You mumbled.

"Since you'll be gone and out of harms way, I'm going to take the time to whip the boys into shape since they can't retaliate against you." He noted.

"Good luck with that."

"Questions, comments, concerns?"

"No questions, no more comments, and no less than a million concerns but that's just an average day for me." You stood up from his desk. "Thanks for your time and effort, I'll be back in two weeks I guess."

"Hey, I'm rooting for you, and I genuinely mean that." Steve reminded you sadly. "If you need anything at all, professionally or personally, I'm here. I always will be."

You nodded before pushing through the doors with your coffee and benefits list in hand. As quickly as you could, you packed a bag full of everything you'd need to be gone for a little while in hopes that you could get out of the building before the news spread. The last thing you wanted was Bucky trying to convince you to stay or Harvey getting some sort of sick satisfaction from your choice.

It took about an hour, but walking through the compound with a backpack and a duffel was the most satisfying and enjoyable experience you've ever had since the first time you walked into the building.

Getting into the car and turning the key in the ignition, you let the air from the vents hit your face and dry out the tears on your cheeks. Your seatbelt clicked in place and held you like a hug while the music from your playlist connected to Bluetooth and sang comforting words to you.

After putting in the address to your parents house in maps and set off on your journey, you had an hour and 45 minute drive ahead of you to relax and let the weight of the world roll off your shoulders.

But in the process of setting off on your journey, nothing was more comforting that seeing the reflection of the compound becoming smaller and smaller in the rear view mirrors.

Much like the gravity of all the issues that lived within the cold, gray building, they became smaller and smaller the further you got.

You let all of your problems stay locked in the concrete walls for Steve, Bucky, and Harvey to deal with on their own. Because right now, you needed to get better, you needed to feel like you again.

By the time you pulled into your parent's driveway, you barely had time to open your car door before your dad was grabbing your bags from the back seat while your mom was waiting for a hug.

You hopped out of the car and happily wrapped your arms around her. Before you knew it, there were little arms around your legs, your dad joined in, then two more sets of arms held you close.

"Wha-" You mumbled, lifting your head to see your sister, her husband and your nephew were here as well. "What are you guys doing here?!"

"We made the drive over so we can spend a few days together as a whole family." Jane explained with a kind, sympathetic smile on her face. "Luca lives in a constant state of missing his Auntie Smalls, and we all miss having you around so we thought this would be a perfect opportunity to get some quality time in."

"We know you're having a hard time, sweetheart." Your Mom pet your hair lovingly. "But we're here to rally around you no matter what, okay?"

"Whether you choose to be an agent, or an avenger, or a barista at the coffee shop around the corner, we're going to love you and support you just the same." Your dad reminded you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "There's plenty of space here for you, we're happy to have you as long as you need. There's no rush."

“And when they inevitably start to drive you absolutely insane, our house is your house too. You know we would love to have you, as would Luca." Nathan, your brother in law told you.

"We're going to have so much fun! Mommy brought puzzles, and paints, and ooh! We can play Nintendo-" Luca started excitedly.

"Woah there buddy, let's let Auntie at least put her stuff down before we start bombarding her, alright?" Jane giggled.

"Fine... Auntie let's go inside!" Luca grabbed your hand and gently pulled you towards the door of your childhood home.

You looked back with a genuine smile on your face. Tears filled your eyes at the sight of your family in the driveway, but this time they were happy tears, something you were completely unfamiliar with.

"Thank you, I love you guys." You put your free hand over your heart as Luca continued to happily walk you in.

"We love you too." Your mom said, finding comfort next to your dad who was lovingly wrapping his arm around her.

He was happy and content to have his kids and grandkid all under the same roof. Nothing made him happier than his empty nest becoming full again. "We love you more."

Next Part: Little Birdie

Tag List: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @klaralovescaptainamerica @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica

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[geeky-politics-46]

Sacrifices - Part 2

Click here to read Sacrifices - Part 1

Pairing: Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The time heist has worked & brought Stephen back to you, but at what cost?

Warnings: Heavy angst & some mild references to smut - language, reference to injuries, death, mental illness, complicated feelings about cheating, general sadness, references to sex.

Stephen smut coming in Part 3! Some slight canon divergence. Based on a request from @magnificentfurybluebird.

All you could do was wait and hope.

Wait to see if your best friends and your lover would come back. Hope that your husband would come back.

Wait to see if a broken world could be fixed. Hope that the Avengers, full fledged and honorary alike, could beat Thanos at his own game. 

While you waited, at least you could try to work out a way to explain to Stephen what had gone on between you and Steve. You hoped he would forgive you. Just the thought made you sick to your stomach. 

No matter what, you were still stuck waiting and hoping.

You made dinner for Vincent, and both of you settled into the bedroom he had picked out as his. Your plan once the battle kicked off was to keep him occupied so he hopefully wouldn't notice any of the chaos outside. So you two played his favorite games and watched his favorite shows. If it weren't for the worry picking at the back of your mind, it would have been a very fun night with your little man. 

Somewhere between playing Avengers with his action figures and watching the end of 101 Dalmatians, you began hearing what sounded like thunder far off in the distance. Opting to tell your son that's what it was, when you knew it was a sign the battle had begun. Luckily, he was distracted pretty quickly when he started asking once again if you could get a dog. 

Once Vincent had fallen asleep, you snuck out of his room and over to the large round window decorated in the Seal Of Vishanti. You could just see a glimpse of the battle, you assumed it was where the Avengers Compound had been. The dust flying, the laser fire from weaponry, and the large ships of Thanos' army. You couldn't see enough to know what was happening, just enough to keep your nerves on edge. This was your equivalent to standing on a Widow's walk, staring out at the ocean waiting for your lover to return from sea.

You suddenly thought about the letters you had seen Nat slip into Vincent's Captain America backpack. You quickly went to retrieve them. Stealthily grabbing the red, white, and blue bag from Vincent's room without making a peep. Sitting on the floor outside the room as you looked for them. Finding them both easily amongst the books and toys.

One envelope was addressed to you, and the other was addressed to Stephen. You carefully set the one addressed to Stephen to the side, face down. Almost not wanting to even touch it at all for fear that it could jinx the possibility of him coming back. Even though you knew that it wouldn't really alter anything that had already been set into motion. 

You gingerly unsealed the envelope. Trying your hardest not to disturb where Nat had left a lipstick print from clearly kissing the envelope after sealing it herself. Inside, you found several handwritten pages and a photo.

The photo had been from Vincent's last birthday party at the Compound. The giggling little boy sat in the center of the photo behind a homemade cake you and Nat had fumbled through making. Luckily, it tasted better than it looked. Nat was on Vincent's right, and you were on his left. Wong and Steve stood behind the three of you. Tony, Pepper, and Morgan were all to your left. A holographic Rhodey on the far right. Tony made him attend even if he couldn't be there in person. Mainly, so he would have to talk to Steve less.

You smiled as you stared at the picture. It was easy to focus on the bad times since the snap, but there had been plenty of good times too. You were glad to have had the people around that you did. To have a support system. Even if you missed Stephen, you had still had some happy times. You would have to frame this photo for sure. 

Moving on, you eventually unfolded the letter. Nat's elegant handwriting already making it look perfect, like a letter written for a scene in a movie. You took a moment to admire it before you began reading it. 

You could never have expected to find what you read. Your heart dropped more with every word you read:

My dear friend,

I imagine as you are reading this, you don't know the outcome of our mission. Hopefully, you have Vincent tucked into bed, safe and sound. You can stop hovering outside the door, you know. He could never be safer than he is with you. Never forget how strong you are. Even when you don't feel like it. You are an incredible woman and an incredible mom.

Now comes the hard part of this letter…

If all goes according to the plan, you won't see me again. At least, hopefully not for a very long while.

Clint and I were sent to retrieve the soul stone from the planet of Vormir. According to Nebula, Thanos took her sister, his daughter, Gamora there and only Thanos returned. In order to get the soul stone, a soul must be given in return. So I plan to give myself so that Stephen, Clint's family, and everyone else we lost can return. 

I chose not to tell you or Steve or even Clint about my choice before the mission. As you all would turn around and offer yourselves without a second thought, and if it means your happiness, I would sacrifice myself a thousand times over. You know how long I've spent trying to erase all the things I did before joining S.H.I.E.L.D., this is just one more wrong for me to right in the end.

I don't want you to cry for me. I don't want you to mourn. Instead, I want you to remember the good things. Remember the nights we spent talking. Remember the jokes and the chaos that ensued whenever either of us tried to cook more than macaroni & cheese. Remember the cake in that photo. How Tony thought for sure he would get food poisoning as soon as he saw it. How Steve was ready to defend our terrible cooking at every turn.

When Stephen comes back, because it is when not if so get that look off your face, give him my letter. It basically says if he breaks your heart or hurts you in any way, I'm coming back to kill him myself. 

I love you like a sister, and I always will. No matter what. Make sure Vincent knows how much I love him, too. 

Nat

Ps. If you ever meet a girl named Yelena, she would make an excellent surrogate big sister for Vinny. Just saying.

Your tears were falling hard and fast by the time you finished reading. Nat had given her life in the hope that you would get Stephen back. You had thought your heart had never healed, but it must have because you felt it breaking all over again.

For at least an hour you sat there and cried as you listened to the sounds of fighting in the distance. Suddenly not sure if this would all be worth it. Now if the Avengers lost you had not only lost your husband, but your best friend too. Would you lose Wong? What about Steve? How much more could you lose before your heart literally stopped beating? 

You were not religious by any means, and the last time you even thought to try and pray was five years earlier when you had the horrible feeling that Stephen wasn't coming home. As you stared at the Seal Of Vishanti adorning the large window with tears still running down your face you clasped your hands and brought them up to your chest, and prayed. 

You prayed to Vishanti, to Agamotto, to the Ancient One herself and anyone else who would listen. You prayed for everyone fighting out on that battlefield, for the Avengers and the rest of the universe to get home safe. That no one else had to lose in order for you to win. 

Repeating the words over and over. Willing them to come true. Only stopping when you suddenly started hearing the telltale sizzle of a portal being opened using Eldritch magic. You jumped to your feet but didn't rush to grab a weapon, if it was Thanos or his army they wouldn't be portaling in. It had to be a sorcerer or one of the other masters. 

The portal opened to reveal a very weary looking Wong. When he stepped through he looked even worse for wear than first glance. Your eyes focusing first on the black soot and dirt on his robes. Small slashes on the fabric over his arms, clearly having fought something with claws. Scrapes and injuries were to be expected though, even in small fights, but if he was even here in the first place it had to be a good sign. 

What you hadn't quite expected was the large,wide, almost giddy smile on his face and the brightness shining in his eyes. Your stomach leapt up into your throat. There was only one reason why Wong would look that excited. They had to have won. You had to have won.

Before you could say a single word Wong stepped to the side and you were greeted with a sight you had not seen in real life in five years. Stepping through the portal into the Sanctum was your husband. Doctor Stephen Strange. 

Dressed exactly as he had been when you last saw him. In his dark blue sorcerer's robes, the crimson Cloak of Levitation hanging from his broad shoulders, and the Eye of Agamotto still hanging around his neck. He hadn't aged a single day.

He did not look nearly as surprised to see you as you did to see him. Wong clearly must have told him you were at the Sanctum waiting. He looked just as battle worn, but to you he looked perfect. He was there. 

You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming. That he was really right in front of you. Instead you simply ran into his arms and started sobbing. Your fingers gripping in his hair and in his robes making sure he wasn't some sort of hologram or illusion.

Your lips slammed into his and you swore time stood still. It seemed like only a second passed before you were forced to pull away to breathe. You both repeated this pattern of kiss then breathe, kiss then breathe several times over. Eventually you finally had enough proof he was really there that you could speak again. 

"Stephen, it's you. It's really you. You came back. You came back to me. I missed you so much. I can't believe you really came back to me after five years. I love you so much." 

Stephen tried to simultaneously laugh and hush you. Urging your tears and your breathing to slow down, even though he wasn't far from just as excited as you were. He hadn't heard everything yet, but he knew the gravity of what had just transpired. Seeing you again on top of everything was almost too much, even for a Sorcerer Supreme to handle.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Of course I'm back. You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?"

He pulled back to smile at you and wink before descending in to kiss you again. You were so overwhelmed you nearly missed the tugging at your pant leg and the feeling of a tiny body huddling close behind you. 

Stephen's eyes suddenly fell to the small figure peeking out from behind your leg. In the commotion you hadn't realized that Vincent had woken up. Of course he came out to see what all the noise was, hearing your laughter and excited cries. 

As soon as Stephen's blue eyes met the matching set peering up at him hesitantly, he fell to his knees on the hard marble floor of the Sanctum. He immediately knew those blue eyes that matched his had to belong to his son. Even if he hadn't met him yet, he would know him anywhere.

Where you saw Stephen when you looked at Vincent, Stephen saw you. He saw the way the little boy chewed at his lip, just like you. He saw the beautiful flush your cheeks always had. He saw a perfect little boy who had been raised by the most perfect woman alive. 

A small quiet "hi there" slipped from his lips with a soft smile as he kneeled down to get at eye level and brought one hand up to wave at the little boy. Trying to not fall apart and let his son approach him first. Although he wanted to grab both you and him tight and never let go ever again.

"Don't be scared Vincent. It's okay. This is your daddy. Do you wanna say hi?" 

A small voice squeaky with hesitation and trepidation coming from the little boy. Understandably, still trying to process exactly what was happening. 

"Daddy?... Daddy!!!" 

The small boy suddenly ran into the arms of the sorcerer, of his father. Nearly knocking Stephen over with the force that he threw himself at him. Locking his little fingers tight in Stephen's blue robes and clinging to him like a koala bear. Stephen immediately wrapped the boy up and buried his face in Vincent's dark brown hair.

You quickly sat yourself down snuggling yourself close to your two boys. Vincent safely cocooned better the two of you, for the first time ever. At least the first time since you had been pregnant with him.

You leaned forward and pressed a couple of kisses in Vincent's hair, then a couple more on Stephen's cheek. Copying your son's motions when he snuggled tighter into Stephen's arms. Soon, finding the three of you wrapped as close as you could possibly be. Your legs tangled with Stephen's, but neither of you were about to untangle yourselves. None of you wanted to move from your spot in the middle of the Sanctum floor. 

You glanced back towards Wong as he tried to stealthily open a portal to Kamar-Taj. To let the three of you have your first ever real bit of family time. A soft content smile on his face as he watched the three of you, and the glassy look in his eyes giving away just how close he was to tears of his own. 

You mouthed a "thank you" to him and blew him a little kiss too. Wong was at the very top of the list of people you would never be able to fully repay for everything they had done for you and Vincent. You would happily try though.

He gave a single silent nod and placed his hand over his heart before he backed through the portal, quickly closing it in his wake. Leaving you alone in a suddenly more homey feeling Sanctum with your son, and now back with your husband.  

--------------------------------

You have no idea how long the three of you sat there together on the hard marble floor before you finally made the suggestion of finding somewhere more comfy. Inevitably ending up in your current bedroom. The bed was smaller than the one in the master bedroom, so you were all packed in a little tight, but it seemed right to wait and re-christen that room with Stephen once the two of you could be alone. 

Vincent snuggled in between the two of you with his Captain America bear in his arms wearing his Incredible Hulk pjs while you ordered pizza. There was no way you were cooking and Vincent didn't want either of you to leave for longer than it took to go to the bathroom. You were the one to run down and get the boxes when they arrived, both you and Vincent a little scared if you let Stephen out of your sight he would disappear again. 

When you got back Vincent was busy telling Stephen all his favorite movies and TV shows as they tried to figure out what to put on. Vincent got all excited when Beauty & The Beast came up on the screen. 

"Stop, stop! Dis is one of mommy's favorites. We should watch dis!" 

"Why don't we let daddy take a shower and get changed okay? Then we can all eat and watch whatever you want, bud." 

Vincent immediately started to protest, scrambling to grab onto Stephen. Not wanting his dad to go anywhere without him ever again. You could see the tears and lovestruck smile on Stephen's face, he hadn't said it yet but you knew he was already just as obsessed with the little boy.

"It's okay pal, I can shower right here in this bathroom. I'll even leave the door cracked so you can hear I'm still in there. You or your mom call for me and I'll be right back out. I promise. Sweetheart, do you think you could go grab me some clean clothes?"

Your son grudgingly nodded and gave Stephen permission to shower. Untangling himself and snuggling his Cap bear with one arm and his Black Widow bear with the other. You kissed the top of his head and tucked all the blankets up around him so he was nice and cozy. Stephen made sure to call out from the bathroom to make sure Vincent was okay with the distance and amount the door was cracked. 

You waited until the water started running before distracting Vincent with an episode of Paw Patrol so you could go get Stephen clean clothes. Moving quickly and trying not to focus on anything other than the task you had once you entered the master bedroom. Grabbing Stephen's light blue Columbia sweatshirt, some boxers, and some pajama pants before jogging back down the hall where your boys were waiting. 

When you snuck into the bathroom to leave Stephen's clothes, you found him partly undressed and assessing a series of scrapes and bruises from the battle. All in all he didn't seem phased by them, but you couldn't help the worried look on your face as you reached out to touch one over his ribs. You nearly fell apart in tears again at the feeling of his bare skin warm under your fingers. 

He pulled you closer, and you let your left hand drag up his muscular chest to rest over his heart. He smiled, noticing you were still wearing your engagement ring and wedding band. Letting his left hand come to rest on top of yours, your wedding bands clinking softly, as he pulled you all the way into his arms and captured your lips in a deep, passion filled kiss. 

Your other arm wrapping around the back of his neck as he backed you up against the bathroom counter. You both knew you couldn't go any farther at the moment. Not with your son just outside the cracked open door. Paw Patrol wouldn't keep him occupied long enough to do what you both really wanted to do.

So before you could both become too wound up to stop, you slowly let your lips separate. Leaving your foreheads pressed together a moment longer, nuzzling noses and enjoying the feel of being back in each other's arms. 

"I missed you so much Stephen. I love you so, so much. I think you are even more handsome than I remembered."

"I missed you too, and I don't think I could possibly love you any more. I want you so much, my beautiful, darling wife." 

You hummed in delight at the suggestion. You wanted him just as badly, but alas being mom and dad had to come before being husband and wife for the moment. You left one last soft kiss on his lips before starting to pull away. Knowing before long Vincent would be calling for you.

"Well hurry up and get showered, Doctor. Maybe we can sneak back in here after he falls asleep later, but first we get to spend time with our son. I'm so glad to have our family back."

You started trying to walk back towards the door only for Stephen to pull you back for one more kiss. 

"Me too. I can't believe how big he is. How much I missed. Go on mama, but I'm gonna hold you to that bit about sneaking back in here later."

He finally let you go with a suggestive wink. Turning back to check the temperature of the shower before starting to undress his lower half. You made yourself leave the bathroom before you could start watching again. Stopping only to give the Cloak of Levitation a little scratch on the collar from where it hung on the back of the door. 

Your cheeks feeling hot and flushed as you rejoined your son on the bed. Helping him plate his pizza before moving the box back over to the dresser. Letting him get settled back into the middle of the bed, making sure to leave space on both sides for you and Stephen.

You would eat once Stephen rejoined you. Although right now you really weren't hungry for pizza, but for your husband. Shaking your head to clear the inappropriate thoughts as you queued up another episode of Paw Patrol to play until Stephen came out. 

You couldn't wipe the grin off of your face at the butterflies in your stomach. Especially when your handsome husband emerged from the bathroom. His gray streaked hair damp and tousled perfectly. If it was possible you wanted him even more now, and you knew he could tell from the way he flirtatiously smiled at you. 

He stopped to grab one of the pizza boxes, carrying it back over to the nightstand before crawling into the bed on the other side of your son. Leaning over to give you a kiss on the lips.

"Alright, mommy's turn to get changed for bed. I'll be right back. Then it's all night with my baby boy and my wonderful husband. My two favorite guys in the universe."

That made both Stephen & Vincent smile, making them look even more alike. As you turned and grabbed a large t-shirt to sleep in from one of your drawers, you made a mental note to take a lot of photos over the next few days. Not paying attention to anything but the sound of joy coming from the bedroom. You quickly splashed your face with water and headed back into them.

You knew that later you would have to have some difficult conversations with Stephen. He would have to tell you everything that happened in the fight. Who all was hurt, and who was lost. You would also have to tell him about what you had done with Steve. Whether or not it really counted as an affair you weren't sure, but you knew that now that you had Stephen back you never wanted anyone else ever again. 

You wanted to tell Stephen that he was your endgame, that as far as you were concerned, there was no you without him. As great as Steve was as a friend, and as much as you did care about him, that was all he would ever be for you again. If Stephen doubted it, you would devote your entire being to proving it. To proving that he was the one true love of your life, not including your son of course. 

When you entered the room, you were trying to figure out why Stephen was looking at you with one eyebrow quirked up. You could feel yourself blushing under his gaze as you walked over to grab a slice of pizza from the box he had set on the nightstand. Taking a bite and pulling at the bottom of the shirt you wore, trying to make it longer even though it already came to your mid thigh and covered everything. 

Looking down, you suddenly realized why he was looking at you weird. In the middle of the light gray t-shirt was Captain America's shield. The shirt had been a joke gift from Tony once he found out about you and Steve. You didn't realize you had grabbed that particular shirt.

"Wow, there seems to be a lot of Captain America stuff here. Should I be worried?" 

He said it with a chuckle at the end, clearly meaning it as a joke. Having no idea he had unintentionally hit a nerve. You immediately wanted to go change. You didn't want to ruin the first night you had Stephen back.

Of course, it was at that moment Vincent chimed in. Not knowing the gravity of what he was revealing to his father. Not even looking away from the TV screen as he spoke.

"Uncle Steve is mommy's special friend. He spends the night with us sometimes. He's really nice, daddy, and he's really strong! You'd like him. He taked good care of Mommy and me while you were gone." 

You saw Stephen swallow hard at the revelation. Knowing exactly what his son had meant with the words 'special friend', even if his son didn't really know. His eyes darted away from you and to the blank wall. His lips pursed and his eyes started to water a bit. You were on the verge of hyperventilating. Trying to keep yourself from having a panic attack. 

The tears were already starting to fall from your eyes as you grabbed one of Stephen's hands and pressed his knuckles to your forehead before bringing them down to your lips. Silently begging him to understand.

Stephen took a deep breath to steady his voice before he spoke. Keeping a light tone in his voice to keep from alerting Vincent that anything was wrong. Trying to keep Vincent distracted by the TV. 

"Okay. Well, Mommy will have to tell me about that later. Right now, I think we were gonna watch a movie, right? You get to pick. I'm glad he was there to take care of you for me" 

You were about to go change when Stephen wouldn't let go of your hand. Blinking back tears as he tilted his head, gesturing for you to get into the bed as is. Your pizza long forgotten as you were practically already trying to crawl in Stephen's lap as Vincent started to scroll through the movie options. 

"Hey kiddo, scoot over a little. I want to snuggle with Daddy, too." 

Hiding a little sniffle as your son somewhat grudgingly inched over to give you just a hint more space. Stephen welcomed you into his lap and held you tight. Hating the feeling of your tears falling softly into his neck. 

Once Vincent had circled back around to Beauty and The Beast and Belle's first song was underway, you tilted your head up to whisper in Stephen's ear.

"I'm so sorry, Stephen. I love you so much. I can't… there's no excuse. I missed you so much, and I thought you were never coming back, and it just happened. I'm so, so sorry. Please, please, please don't hate me. Please, please don't leave me again." 

He shushed you softly as he felt you starting to shake. Kissing your forehead and brushing his hand through your hair. You knew that he wasn't exactly happy to hear about your tryst with Steve. You knew he hated the idea of you being with someone else, but he also understood that you had been through far more than he could know. He also knew from the moment you kissed him after he returned that you were still his, totally and completely. Your panicked response to Vincent's statement was not lost on him.

"I know, I know. It's okay. I could never hate you. It will be okay. Okay? We will talk it all out later. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. Never again. I'm here to take care of both of you now." 

He pulled his other arm back from where it had been draped behind Vincent. Reaching into the front pocket of his sweatshirt and slipping on his sling ring. Already starting a spell before he spoke.

"This shirt, however, does need to go..." 

In a shimmer of gold, Cap's shield on your shirt slowly started morphing into the seal of Vishanti that adorned the large central window of the Sanctum. You felt a cocky lopsided smile curl up on his handsome face once his magic had finished.

"That's much better." 

You smiled and nuzzled further into his neck as he moved to put his sling ring back into his pocket. Still staying nice and quiet as you responded, a double meaning hidden in your words. Placing a long kiss under his ear afterwards. 

"I agree. Much better." 

Shortly after, Vincent asked for everyone to get under the covers. Trying to hide the sleepiness quickly overtaking him again. Protesting when you asked if he wanted to go to bed. Saying he just wanted to make sure Mommy was warm and comfortable. He may not have spent much time with his father yet, but his stubbornness was most definitely inherited from Stephen.

He managed to stay awake a little while longer. At some point, he grabbed ahold of Stephen's hand that wasn't resting on your hip and started mindlessly tracing his scars. That action alone brought Stephen back  near tears. It was something you had always done when you two laid in bed together talking or watching something. It also warmed his heart that his son wasn't scared by the raised, somewhat jagged scars all over his hands or the way they trembled lightly.

"Let me know if you have any questions about my hands, okay kiddo? I know they can look a bit ugly or scary, and I can't always do everything with them, but I never want you to be worried about it." 

You were listening and smiling. Over the moon that Stephen seemed to fall right into the role of a good dad as soon as he met Vincent. You remembered him spending countless nights, pacing the floor and unable to sleep. Terrified he would be a horrible father. Wondering if the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You always knew he was underestimating himself.

"They aren't scary, daddy. You got them because you got hurt bad. That's how you met Uncle Wong and learned magic. Mommy told me all about you. Uncle Wong said he thought you were 'nnoying when he met you, but that he missed you too when you were gone. He told me not to tell you that part though. Oops."

You couldn't help but snort at that admission. Even Stephen giggled before grinning deviously. Oh Wong was so going to pay for that remark later, for both of them actually. 

After you finished laughing, Stephen leaned down to nuzzle his nose against your forehead. Pressing a kiss there before whispering against your skin how thankful he was that you told Vincent about him. He knew it must have been incredibly painful at times, but he was so glad that you had done it. So Stephen didn't lose even more time with his son now that he was back. So that his son didn't look at him like a stranger, or even worse, think Rogers was his dad. That might have just killed him.

Before long, Vincent was fast asleep with a death grip on Stephen's arm. Even though it meant the two of you might not get to sneak off for your adult time, you were both plenty content with you snuggled into his chest and a leg thrown over his hip. Especially with the cloud of the battle and all that had happened hanging over you. 

Once it was clear Vincent was completely out and not going to wake up easily, Stephen broke the silence by telling you what happened. About the biggest loss and the thing that had ultimately allowed them to win against Thanos. Their checkmate, Iron Man.

"Tony is gone." 

Your head snapped up from Stephen's shoulder. Genuine shock from what you had just heard. You kept your voice low to not wake up your son, but you needed to know what had happened. 

"What?!"

Stephen instinctively started rubbing your lower back to soothe you. Already seeing the tears welling in your eyes. 

"He sacrificed himself and used the stones to snap away Thanos and his army. I knew it was going to happen, it had to if we were going to win, and I couldn't do anything to save him. I couldn't even tell him or it wouldn't have happened. I think he was the only one we lost. Pepper was there with him at least. Lots of other injuries, but… "

Your tears flowed freely as you thought about Pepper and Morgan. How they were now in the positions you and Vincent had been in before. You hated how part of you was so glad it wasn't you. That you had your husband back, even though it meant you lost a friend, Pepper lost her husband, and Morgan lost her father. You buried your face back into his sweatshirt and let yourself cry for them.

That made you think about Nat, too. She may not have had a husband or biological children, but you considered her family. You knew Clint, Steve, and Bruce did, too. Stephen didn't know she was dead. So many of them, everyone who blipped, must not know yet. Did he even know who she was?

"No, he isn't. Nat is gone, too. She sacrificed herself so Clint could bring back the soul stone from Vormir. So Bruce could get everyone back in the first place. She knew before they even left that she wasn't coming back. She actually wrote a letter, one for me and one for you, explaining it. I don't know what she wrote in yours, but she basically said that she did it so Clint could have his family back, and so Vincent and I could have you back. She said she didn't want us to mourn her. I don't know how not to though. She became my best friend." 

You could hear Stephen sniffling and you knew he was crying too. You knew how overwhelmed he must be to be openly displaying his emotions, even just in front of you. The only other time you had seen him cry was when you were pregnant with Vincent, the night after you had gotten your first ultrasound. You held him tighter in response. Letting him know it was okay.

"Then we honor her by being happy together. By raising him happy, and we make sure he remembers her. That he remembers them both. I'll ask Wong to put together something at Kamar-Taj to honor Tony and something for Natasha. We can make something in the little rooftop garden here too. Although it's probably pretty much all dead weeds right now." 

You hummed in agreement and the two of you snuggled in tighter. Pressing endless kisses to each other wherever you could reach to comfort each other. Slowly lulling both of you into a deep sleep alongside Vincent. For the first time ever, there was a part of your soul that felt full. Even though you had lost so much that day, you had gained even more back, and you never wanted to let go again.

--------------------------------

The day of Tony's funeral came quickly. Wong met the three of you at the Sanctum before opening a portal out to the remote cabin where the private memorial would be held. It was the first time you had seen everyone since the day of the time heist. It was the first time you had seen Pepper and Morgan in probably at least a year. 

Even if Steve and Tony still hadn't been on speaking terms, Pepper and Tony helped you a lot with Vincent early on. Especially after they had Morgan. 

Vincent and Morgan became fast friends as they started to grow. You and Pepper even liked to joke that maybe someday in the future, you might get lucky enough to be in-laws. Watching a childhood puppy love form between your kids. A Stark and a Strange finding love together, you all weren't sure the world would ever be able to handle that.

Once you got involved with Steve, things got a little more complicated. Tony didn't really want anything to do with him. Not after everything that had happened even before the snap. After, he didn't want anything to do with the crime fighting life he had left for the much simpler one he had currently enjoyed. You still spoke often with Pepper on the phone, but play dates became fewer and farther between. You all only got together for birthdays and holidays. That was when you forced the boys to play nicely together. 

After the memorial, Wong had agreed to have Vincent spend the night at Kamar-Taj with him, giving you and Stephen some alone time. The two of you still hadn't managed to get much of it in the few days that he had been back. Vincent clinging to the both of you. You still hadn't gone back to sleeping in the master bedroom. Instead Stephen had been sleeping in the new bedroom you had picked. 

You also still hadn't had sex yet. You had fooled around a bit for sure. There had been plenty of touching and kissing, even  some dry humping but you hadn't managed to get all the way to the main event without getting interrupted. Tonight that was going to be remedied. First, though, you had to get through the day. That included coming face to face with Steve again, and so did Stephen. 

Happy greeted everyone at the door and led you into the house, telling Vincent where he could find Morgan. You made a beeline for Pepper to see if there was anything you could do for her. Stephen and Wong headed out into the large backyard to find the others. 

Stephen, of course, found Steve first. Walking out the back door and nearly bumping right into him standing with Sam, Bucky, and Wanda. The three of them promptly excused themselves as did Wong, heading over to stand in a clump with Bruce right at the edge of hearing distance. No one ever accused the Avengers of not being nosy gossips.

"Oh good, so I guess they all know. About you and my wife… while I was blipped. She told me about it, obviously. I guess I should get your take on it before I tell you that it definitely won't be happening anymore." 

Steve clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes at Stephen, still knowing well enough to hide the eye roll from the sorcerer. He knew that if your husband came back, of course, the two of you were done. It didn't mean that you didn't have feelings and care for each other. He wanted Stephen to know that, that he did care for you. 

Although he didn't know if Stephen needed to know about the night you two discussed what would happen if the time heist didn't work. What you had decided if Stephen didn't come back. That Steve had promised to take care of you and Vincent. To marry you if you wanted. He knew you would still have feelings for Stephen, just as you knew he would never really get over Peggy, but you could be happy together. Happy enough anyway. 

He also didn't want to give Stephen more information than he needed about your sex life together. About how those first few nights you spent together, you had been almost too insatiable even for a super soldier. That until Steve you had kept any semblance of being a sexual being shoved down deep, dormant. How he did things with you he had never done with anyone else. Not that his body count was more than three or four women anyway. How even if he knew he could never have you completely, he would still be happy to be the man who got to pull those beautiful noises from you. 

Steve was honorable enough to play nice though. He would keep all that to himself if it made everything easier for you. He understood Stephen's frustration with him. You were his wife.

"We agreed as much before the time heist. I was only ever a placeholder anyway. I just happened to be there and someone she trusted. You are the one she loved. That she loves. You know she never took off her wedding rings the entire time you were gone? She was always Mrs. Stephen Strange, I just provided comfort sometimes. A shoulder to cry on of sorts."

He could see Stephen flinch from the corner of his eyes at the suggestion that Steve 'comforted' you. Knowing that a hug and a pat on the back weren't what Stephen was imagining.

"As much as I would prefer to pretend that it never happened, I do want to say thank you. For helping take care of Vincent and for keeping her safe. So, thank you for that. I owe you for that."

Steve turned to face the doctor. Seeing just how hard it was for him to admit he was thankful for Steve helping to take care of you and Vincent. Clearly saying thank you was something Strange was unaccustomed to doing. He could definitely see why the sorcerer didn't get along great with Tony. He could also see you approaching with a panicked look at finding your husband and your lover talking. 

Both of them looking as handsome as ever. Steve in a simple classic cut suit. Stephen, in a clearly tailor-fit, more stylish cut. You couldn't have picked two more different, albeit both incredibly sexy, men if you tried. 

"I had plenty of help. Vincent is a great kid, and she is something special. You're very lucky. Speak of the devil…" 

Stephen's brow furrowed in confusion until he felt your hand slip into his and your other hand holding onto his arm. He leaned down to kiss you, to stake his claim in front of the Captain. Even though it had just been established between the two men anyway. 

Steve excused himself after saying hi and how happy he was to see your family back together. Leaving you and Stephen in private until the service was about to begin. Little clumps of heroes stood around the edge of the lake listening as Happy and Rhodey each told a couple stories about Tony. 

When Pepper and Morgan stepped forward, you felt Vincent cling onto his father's leg a little tighter. All of you watched in silence as they released a flower wreath with Tony's arc reactor set in the middle. One by one, each of you then stepped forward to pay your respects for the fallen hero. Wong moving forward with Stephen and your family. He was part of your family, after all.

After a couple more hours of talking and reminiscing, everyone started to disperse. Each of you saying your goodbyes to Happy, Morgan, and Pepper. You made a point of telling Pepper that her and Morgan were welcome at the Sanctum whenever and that you would be happy to watch Morgan whenever she wanted. Vincent gave Morgan a big hug before leaving, telling her it will be okay.

Wong bid them his own goodbye and opened a portal back to the Sanctum. You, Vincent, and Stephen followed him through. Back to your own home. You took Vincent upstairs to get him changed and get his overnight bag for him to spend the night at Kamar-Taj with Wong. 

You could tell Vincent was having second thoughts about the overnight by the time you got back to where Wong and Stephen were waiting. It had been a long, stressful day for all of you. You were nearly ready to say forget the whole thing until you saw the way Stephen was eyeing you, and you realized just how much you really did need your alone time with him. 

"Alright baby, be good for Uncle Wong. You know you can call at any time if you need me. We will see you in the morning after breakfast. Love you, sweetie. Have fun." 

You gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. Sending him to go over and get a hug and kiss from Stephen too. Wong took his little hand and seeing the pout on his face whispered loud enough for you and Stephen to hear.

"Trust me, it will be more fun at Kamar-Taj. You don't want to be here when they get all mushy. I've seen it. It's gross. Besides, we've got candy there right now." 

That made Vincent giggle and he happily walked through the portal into the courtyard of Kamar-Taj, the moon already sitting high in the dark night sky dotted with stars. Your little boy not even stopping to wave as he headed off. 

Stephen walked up behind and wrapped his arms around your waist, his suit jacket and tie had been shed while you were getting Vincent ready to go. He ducked down so his face was nuzzling into your neck. Already leaving kisses on your sensitive skin. His fingertips digging into and kneading the flesh of your hips and belly. 

You let your head drop back onto his shoulder and closed your eyes. Focusing on the smell of Stephen's cologne.

"So I'm thinking we share a nice long soak in the tub with a bottle of wine, then we break in those brand new sheets on our bed. We can spend the whole night making that bedroom ours again. If I remember correctly, the couch and the dresser also have some fond memories we can recreate."

A soft sigh falling at the ideas. Honestly, as much as you wanted Stephen, a long hot bath sounded incredible on its own. All it took was a nod and a little moan to communicate how perfect that all sounded. 

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself already standing in the master bathroom. 

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