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krirebr · 5 months

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More Than This 2

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, no noncon but some fear of it, excessive alcohol use, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Part One

Masterlist

A/N: Another part already??? This one has just been flowing right out of me. It occurs to me that I should probably explicitly state that this will have a happy ending! Possibly very far in the future, but it will happen!! 😂😭

Huge thanks again to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and letting me know when I was on the right track.

Visual references for the ring and dress can be found here.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Despite your best efforts, the next three weeks went by in a blink.

The engagement ring arrived the day after your disastrous dinner with Ransom. It was beautiful—a round diamond with a smaller sapphire on each side, set in swirling filigree. You wondered who picked it. Certainly not Ransom. Probably someone’s assistant. It felt like fire around your finger.

You’d packed up the small apartment you loved so much. Sorting everything into what you would bring and what would be put into storage – the latter category was much bigger. You sat in your living room, surrounded by boxes, and cried, with Steve beside you and Lola nervously shaking in your lap.

Your mother took you to pick your dress. She sat on the plush couch in the appointment-only boutique and sipped champagne while you tried on dress after dress that the attendants brought you. Her favorite was an ivory satin ballgown with off-the-shoulder short sleeves, a bow at the bottom of the back, and a very wide skirt. She cried when you put it on. You told her it was your favorite too, because you just didn’t have it in you to have an opinion.

The Thrombey clan came into town the week before the wedding. Their time was mostly spent in meetings with Joseph and his team. Meeting the new extended family was to be left for the wedding festivities.

You hadn’t heard a word from Ransom. You’d thought of texting him a few times but couldn’t see the point in it. He’d made his feelings on you and your upcoming marriage clear. Any added effort would just be torturing yourself.

Then, suddenly, the rehearsal dinner was passing without incident. It was a catered affair, held at your parents’ house. Despite being one of the two nominal guests of honor, aside from the initial introductions, you were mostly ignored, as business remained the topic at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Ransom was there, of course, seated next to you, even, but he did his best to avoid you. You were torn between intense relief for the moment and absolute terror for what it meant for your future. When you noticed him quietly ducking out, you took the opportunity to leave as well, hoping most people would think you’d absconded together. The thought made you laugh bitterly.

You spent your last night of freedom snuggled up with Lola in Steve’s guest room. You barely slept.

Now, you sat in a plush robe in front of the vanity in the large hotel suite that sat several floors above the event hall you’d be getting married in in just over one hour. Steve sat sentinel in an armchair near you, already in his tux. People had been coming in and out all day – manicurists, aestheticians, makeup artists, hairstylists, your mother until she’d gotten called away for the pictures they didn't need you for. The female members of Ransom’s family too. His aunt, Joni, had only been in briefly, saying that the energy of the room was all wrong and she’d had to leave. Her daughter Meg had sat with you for a while, but she just kept complaining about how awful Ransom was and Steve eventually kicked her out, probably trying to spare you a panic attack. And then there was Ransom’s mother, Linda. She had been in a few times ‘to check on the progress.’ You’d tried very hard not to get stressed out by her, but she was very… severe, and you felt about a foot tall every time she looked at you. And now here she was, again.

“Darling,” she said, and you tried not to balk at the fact that you’d know this woman for less than 24 hours and she was already using endearments, “you’ll be needed for pictures soon and you aren’t dressed yet?”

You gestured to the two people at the rolling clothing rack who were carefully removing your dress from the garment bag. “We’re about to start putting it on. I’ll be ready soon.”

“Fantastic. Maybe it’s time for Steve to go then,” she cut a glance to your stepbrother.

“Not fucking likely,” he muttered. He’d been stuck to you like glue all day.

Linda’s eyebrows crawled up to her hairline. “I just think that some people might find it inappropriate for you to be in here while your sister gets dressed.”

He stood up and took a step toward her. “I’ll turn around,” he growled.

“Steve,” you sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” It wasn’t. You wouldn’t be, but none of that could be helped.

He looked at you carefully, his eyes flitting over your face. Finally, he nodded, “OK. I’ll see you out there then.” With a quick, reassuring touch to your arm, he left.

Linda watched him leave and once he was out the door, she turned to you and said, “You and your stepbrother are very close, aren’t you?”

Something about her tone made you incredibly wary. “Yes,” you said cautiously, “he’s my best friend.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” she said with a thin-lipped smile that made it clear she thought anything but.

You noted her reaction as you returned her smile and removed your robe. You let the attendants help you step into the dress where they’d pooled it on the floor. They pulled it up around you and you stood still as they fastened and arranged the dress on you. All under Linda’s watchful eye, her arms crossed over her chest. When it was all done and you’d stepped into your heels, you turned to her so that she could give the approval you could feel she was dying to give.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” she said. Just as you were about to thank her, she added, “Although, I suppose it would be hard not to be, with all these people working on you, huh?” Her tone was warm and friendly, but you took it as the cut down you knew she meant it to be.

Still, you smiled. “Well, we should probably get down there, shouldn’t we?”

Everyone oohed and aahed appropriately when you arrived at the courtyard space reserved for photographs. Your mother was crying again. Joseph smiled at you, possibly the warmest smile he’d ever given you, and said “Beautiful,” but it was less like a compliment and more confirmation that everything was the way he needed it to be, like he was commenting on furniture. You smiled anyway and thanked him, then moved where the photographers directed you.

This round of pre-ceremony pictures was reserved for the families. Ransom had already done his and then been dismissed, to ‘preserve the big reveal’ you were told. You’d been asked earlier if you wanted to do first-look photos and declined. That had been interpreted as you wanting to have the big moment when you walked down the aisle to him. Instead, you just knew that he wouldn’t give them the reaction they were looking for. You’d rather spare yourself that embarrassment.

The thing about these arrangements was that while they were all about business and everyone knew it, people still wanted the trappings of romance. The big wedding at a fancy venue, awe on the groom’s face when he saw the bride in her dress for the first time, a joyful reception with speeches about true love. It had made you roll your eyes when you’d gone to friends’ weddings, but now that it was your own, it all made you want to scream.

You posed with Linda and Ransom’s father, Richard, a benign smile on your face. And then it was Harlan’s turn. “You look absolutely lovely,” he said to you, kindly. “You’re going to be so good for my grandson.” You responded with that same placid smile. You wondered if anyone had told Ransom that he was going to be good for you. You doubted it. That part didn’t seem to matter.

Next, it was time for your own family. Your mother and Joseph, together and then separately, and then Steve joined you for the full family. Once that was done, the photographers started to dismiss you, but you stopped them. “I want a few with just me and Steve.”

They looked at you and then Joseph and Linda, “That’s not on the list of required shots.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “I want them.”

“Darling,” Linda started, and you wanted to growl, “I’m not sure there’s time.”

“I don’t care,” you said again, “everyone can wait the five minutes this is going to take. I’m the bride, I doubt they’ll start without me. Isn’t today my day?”

Linda took a step back and nodded to the photographers but you could feel her watching you as Steve stepped up to you. “And people think I’m the troll,” he said, low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, possibly your first genuine smile all day. “You are the troll,” you said. “I’m the sweet one who does what she’s told without complaint.”

He snorted, “Sure,” and turned his head as the photographers directed.

When it was all done, you took a deep breath and tried to prepare yourself as everyone but you and Steve began to make their way back inside.

“You ready?” he asked, concern all over his face.

You shook your head. “Not even remotely.”

He looked over your shoulder. “I know–” he began but stopped for a moment before he started again. “I know that if she had lived, we never would have met, but I still think, sometimes, about how much my mom would have loved you. Just as much as I do.”

“Steve,” you gasped.

He grabbed both of your hands. “You are the strongest, bravest person I know and you can do this.”

Your eyes welled up as you squeezed his hands, feeling like you’d completely fall apart if you let go. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he said, oh so gently, “all you have to do right now is get through the ceremony. That’s it. You don’t need to think about what comes after. Focus on what’s directly in front of you. Nothing else. Just walk down the aisle and say I do when it’s your turn. That’s it. You can do that. I know you can do that. I wish you didn’t have to, but you can.”

You took a deep breath. And another. And then you nodded. “I can.”

He smiled, big and genuine and still more than a little sad. He pulled you in for a hug, exceedingly careful to not mess anything up, and said again, “You can. I know you can.”

Someone stepped out of the big French doors leading into the vestibule your party was gathering in and waved frantically at you. Another deep breath. “OK,” you said.

He just nodded and guided you back inside.

Joseph walked you down the aisle. It wasn’t your choice, but this day had always been more about him than it ever was about you, so of course he would be the one to walk you. You would have chosen Steve. But you also would have chosen not to do this at all.

The walk was both agonizingly long and much, much too short. Ransom waited for you at the end of it, dressed in a designer tux and devastatingly handsome. You searched his face for anything, but he remained completely stoic, his eyes hard. You had to look away.

There were so many people gathered to watch your life change forever. As you gazed over the faces of the people seated on your side, you weren’t sure you recognized even half of them. You realized with a jolt that this was the most alone you’d ever felt, in this hall surrounded by hundreds of people, all eyes on you.

So much sooner than you were ready for, you’d arrived at the front, Joseph placing you in front of Ransom and joining your hands together. Ransom’s hands were soft and his grasp wasn’t nearly as harsh as you’d expected. You took a deep breath—every other thought since you’d stepped into the hall was to remind yourself to keep breathing—and met his gaze. It was still hard, but, maybe, maybe there wasn’t hate there.

Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough yet to be able to tell.

The ceremony went quickly. You struggled to focus on the officiant’s words. It was like you were in a sort of fugue state. But you repeated after him when you were supposed to. You said ‘I do’ when you were prompted. You played your part.

Ransom did too. You’d half expected him to just not show up at all, or walk out part-way through, or something but he was under the same familial pressures as you, you reasoned. At the end of the day, you all just did what you were told.

Before you knew it, it was done. There was a ring on your finger and one on his. You barely remembered placing it there. You registered the officiant saying “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” and stared at Ransom. You expected him to swoop in and take what was his, but he paused. There was a clear question in his eyes. Shocked, you realized he was asking permission. As subtly as you could, you nodded. He gave a barely perceptible nod back and then he was kissing you. It wasn’t chaste, exactly, but it certainly wasn’t passionate either. Open-mouthed, but no tongue, and done quickly, the faintest taste of whiskey on his lips. Everyone applauded.

The processional music started and you began to move without even realizing it, Ransom right beside you. And in that moment, when you had nothing else to focus on, no other immediate job to do, everything hit you. Holy fuck, you were married. This man beside you was your husband. One of your knees buckled and your steady leg caught the edge of your dress and just as you were sure you were about to go down, someone grabbed your hand and you felt another hand on your opposite hip, holding you up. “Wait to collapse in private, if you can,” Ransom murmured to you, dryly, then basically carried you the rest of the way down the aisle.

You were both ushered into a small sitting room off the main hall for a moment of privacy as your guests were moved into the ballroom where the reception would take place and before you would take pictures with your new husband. Once the two of you were alone, you tried to steady your breathing and shove down the panic clawing its way up your throat. You were married. It had actually happened. It was real. You steadied yourself on the bookshelf beside you and tried to think about what Steve had said. Focus on what was directly in front of you. You’d gotten through the ceremony by doing that, so now it was just pictures and the reception. That was all you had to worry about. You could do that. You could.

“You good?” Ransom’s voice cut through your internal monologue and you turned back around to face him where he was standing on the other side of the small room, pasting that fucking smile on your face.

“Yes, I’m fine. Today is just a lot. But I’m fine. Thank you for helping me, before.”

“Well,” he smirked, “I couldn’t have my new wife embarrass me thirty seconds in, could I?”

Your smile went brittle and a small voice in your head chanted fifty years of this but you tamped it down. Pictures and the reception. Pictures and the reception. That was all you had to get through right now.

There was a light knock and then the door opened. One of the photographers peeked in, a camera in their hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said. “Just wanted to get some intimate, candid shots, before we go outside for the formal pictures.” Their eyes moved between you and Ransom and you knew they were measuring the space between you.

You shook your head and tried to keep your tone friendly. “No need, just the formal ones are fine.” You didn’t need any more documentation of this day than was absolutely necessary.

“Oh,” they said, surprised, “well, Mrs. Drysdale wanted–”

“Linda can fuck right off,” Ransom interrupted. “We’ll come outside now.” He shouldered his way past them and out the door. You just smiled and followed him, the photographer chasing after you both.

The pictures went quickly, you both seeming to want them over with as fast as possible. He didn’t say much to you, aside from the occasional exclamation like, “Jesus Christ, is this skirt big enough?” when he tried to move around you or pose behind you. The photographers kept trying to get you to look at each other, but when you did, it clearly didn’t give them the result they wanted, so they moved on quickly.

Afterward, you were escorted into the ballroom, where your entrance was met with applause. Your face was beginning to hurt from all the placid smiling you’d done all day.

You blanched when you realized that you and Ransom were the only ones seated at the head table. You wouldn’t have anyone to talk to.

There was still some time before dinner would be served. You could already see people beginning to make their way toward you to offer their congratulations to fill the time. A server appeared at your table and you asked for a glass of champagne. Ransom requested his usual scotch then added, “There’s an extra hundred in it for you if you make sure I’m never holding an empty glass tonight.”

You could see the disaster waiting to happen, so you tried a quiet “Ransom,” as the server left, not really thinking before you said something.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “If that’s the kind of wife you’re going to be, let me tell you right now, this marriage isn’t going to work. I don’t respond well to nagging.”

You took a breath, “I wasn’t trying to nag,” you said, “I just–”

“Ransom!” a loud voice interrupted you. You looked over to see Ransom’s uncle, Walt, approaching your table. You’d been introduced to him very briefly the night before. “Congratulations on finally growing up and settling down,” he said, once he stood in front of his nephew. You felt Ransom stiffen next to you, but his face just had an obnoxious smirk on it. Walt’s eyes briefly cut to you but then returned to Ransom. “Although, she’s pretty young, isn’t she?”

Ransom rolled his eyes, still smirking. “Well, it’s not like I picked her, is it Walt? You got a problem with it, go tell Mom or Grandad.”

You bit your lip at being spoken about like you weren’t sitting right there. But you knew better than to cause a scene, so you quietly said, “Excuse me,” and left the table. Neither of them seemed to notice, locked in a hostile stare-down.

You’d only made it a few feet when someone you didn’t recognize was pulling you aside to offer their congratulations. You smiled and politely nodded through it and when it was done you were grabbed by someone else and then someone else. You crossed paths with Steve briefly before you were both pulled in other directions. You only got a break when they started serving dinner. You got back to your seat to find Ransom sitting alone, sipping his scotch as full plates of food were placed before you. You didn’t have much of an appetite.

You picked at your food and mostly moved it around the plate, while Ransom ate hungrily beside you. Neither of you said anything. After the second course was served, the speeches started. Joseph mostly spoke about the two families coming together and all the opportunities that represented. You wanted to stage whisper to him that it was customary to at least mention the couple at some point, but then he sprinkled Ransom’s name in. A brief mention of how proud he was to be gaining a son like him. You wanted to laugh. They barely knew each other. As if Joseph cared at all about what kind of man he was giving you to. You were finally mentioned at the very end as he toasted his “beautiful stepdaughter and her new husband. To a long and fruitful marriage!” You wanted to break something.

Harlan, for his part, was much more focused. He, of course, referenced all the new opportunities this would bring, it was why you were all here, after all. But he mostly talked about his grandson, how much he loved him, all the potential Ransom had, and once again, how good you were going to be for him. You wondered if you just started screaming right there, what people would do.

As for Ransom, judging by his body language, he seemed to enjoy both speeches just as much as you had. You wondered if the rest of the guests could feel how miserable you both were and just chose to ignore it. Probably.

When the speeches were done and the tables were cleared, it was time for your first dance. Ransom made it clear by the way he stood up that this was the last thing he wanted to be doing. You tried not to let it bother you, it wasn’t like you were especially excited about this either, and kept your head held high as you came around the table to join him. He took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor and you were once again surprised by the way he held it gently when you’d half-expected him to drag you out there.

You hadn’t chosen whatever song you were about to dance to. You could’ve, probably, but you’d begged off of most of the decision-making for the day, unable to drum up an opinion on any of it. So you had no right to complain as the opening strains of “At Last” filled the ballroom, but you had to stifle an eye-roll anyway. Of course, they went for something that romantic, that cliche. They were all lucky you didn’t burst out laughing.

Ransom pulled you in close with a hand on your lower back, as you put one of yours on his shoulder and he took your other hand in his. It all felt strangely respectful, the way his hand didn’t wander from the small of your back and he held you close but not too close, with plenty of breathing room between you. You weren’t sure how to wrap your head around it, what it all meant.

He was a good dancer, most likely the product of formal dance lessons as a teenager, just like you’d had. It made it easy to keep your polite smile in place as all eyes in the room were on you.

“You’re good at that,” Ransom said.

You shrugged. “A variety of dance classes since I was seven.”

He chuckled. “No, I meant the smiling thing.” When you just looked at him, confused, he continued. “Unless you’re much dumber than I think, you hate this just as much as I do. But look at you, that smile hasn’t dropped all fucking day. You’re having such a nice time, aren’t you? Being the good girl they all expect you to be. Can’t ever let them know you’re upset. Oh no, that just isn’t done.”

You nearly tripped, but you had the good grace to keep going. You kept your face pleasant to everyone watching as you gritted out “And what am I supposed to do instead, huh? Glower and glare because I didn’t get what I wanted? Be an asshole to everyone? And where exactly would that get me? We’re both here, Ransom, stuck in this. At least my way of dealing with it doesn’t make anyone else’s life more difficult.”

He chuckled again. “No one’s but mine,” he said, but instead of just irritation, there was a glimmer in his eye, too, that you couldn’t begin to interpret. It was almost like part of him was having fun.

The song ended, fading into the next, and more couples joined you on the dance floor. Keeping your hand in his, Ransom led you back to the table, depositing you there and grabbing his drink, before disappearing amongst the tables.

Ransom didn’t come back. You'd stayed at the table for a bit, for want of anything else to do. When you got bored of that, you wandered through the crowd, accepting congratulations and trying to find familiar faces. You knew there were a few of your own friends in attendance, but you were afraid to face them, knowing you’d see pity on the faces of the luckily single and recognition on those who were already married. You wouldn’t see much of them anymore anyway, with you leaving for Boston the next day. You couldn’t think about that yet. Focus on what’s in front of you.

You were periodically offered champagne from a passing server and you accepted every time, leading to you now feeling pleasantly floaty. It was a nice break from just how very much you’d been feeling the rest of the day.

You arrived back at your seat, without really intending to, to find Steve waiting for you. He was staring into the corner of the room with a disgruntled expression. “I could fucking kill him,” he mumbled.

You followed his gaze and found Ransom with a group of Harvard-looking bros doing shots by the bar. You shrugged. “He’s getting drunk over there and I’m getting drunk over here,” you said as you downed your champagne and began looking around for a server.

Steve sighed your name. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

He guided you to a chair and then sat down beside you. “Where’d you get off to?” you asked.

Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. “Dad,” was all he said. You nodded. For all that he wasn’t in your situation, as his father’s heir, he had many heavy responsibilities and obligations weighing on him. You were both caged in by this family.

“Does that mean you’re speaking to him again?” you asked, your voice free of judgment.

Even so, he grimaced. “Only when I have to.” He sighed and looked at you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Steve,” you said, sincerely.

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He paused, then, “I wish there’d been a way for me to stop this.”

“Steve,” you sighed. It wasn’t worth talking about again.

Over by the bar, Ransom let out a loud, hearty laugh that carried over to where you were sitting. Steve glared. “You don’t deserve this,”

You shrugged. “It’s what I have, I guess.” Then before he could continue the conversation, you added, “Can we please talk about anything else?”

He looked at you carefully and then nodded. “Sure,” he said, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear, and then launched into a twenty-minute explanation of the painting he was working on. You didn’t think you’d ever been more grateful for him. And you hadn’t even thought to ask a server for more champagne.

The conversation only ended when your mother appeared in front of you. Steve stood up to greet her, smiling warmly, and then excused himself, squeezing your hand as he went.

“Honey, we’re going to go. I just wanted to make sure I said goodbye to you first.”

You stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be there to send us off tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, honey, no. Joseph had something come up and you know how hard it is for me to get around by myself.”

You felt the bottom drop out of everything. “You’re not going to say goodbye?”

“Of course, I am, darling. That’s what I’m doing right now.”

Suddenly, only focusing on what was directly in front of you was impossible. You were married to a stranger who couldn’t stand you. Tomorrow, you would be leaving everything you knew to go to a new home where you didn’t have anything or anyone. And your mom wouldn’t even be there to say goodbye.

“Steve would come to get you, you know he would,” you tried desperately.

“Honey, no, I can’t,” she said firmly and it took everything in you not to burst into tears. “Now, come on,” she drew you into another hug. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Mom,” you whispered, your voice so thick. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Of course, you can,” she pulled back and looked you in the eye. “I know it seems hard, now, but it’ll be easier than you think to keep him happy.” She gently touched your cheek. “All you have to do is listen, and not argue too much. You’re going to be such a good wife and mother. I just know it.”

She leaned forward to hug you again and you went stiff in her arms. Everything she’d gone through – two marriages that weren’t her choice, a husband that was so cold to her and her daughter, a lonely life. And here she was, offering you up for the same fate. You didn’t know how you were supposed to bear this.

“Have a safe flight,” she whispered in your ear and then she was gone. You didn’t watch her go. You just sank back into your chair, ready for the night to end.

A while later, you heard someone call your name. You turned around to see Richard. “I think it’s time for Ransom to call it a night.” You followed Richard’s gaze to see Ransom slumped over in a chair. You almost asked him why he was telling you. Then you remembered that Ransom was your husband now. Your problem, your responsibility. You nodded to Richard and thanked him, smiling at him, of fucking course.

When you got to Ransom, he looked up at you and laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the wife!” he slurred. “We were just talking about you.” You looked over at the men on either side of him, equally drunk, and tried not to feel too humiliated.

The crowd was thinning, but there were still people around and you could feel their eyes on you, so you did your best to keep your tone and face calm. “Ransom, it’s time to go up to our room.”

One of his companions snickered and you were suddenly struck by what might await you in that room. You’d been so focused on just getting through the next thing that you’d protected yourself from thinking about what he might want, what he might demand, once you were alone. But looking at him now, as he struggled to stand up or get any control over his body at all, you hoped that you might be safe for this night, at least.

Steve appeared at your elbow. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbled, low enough that it didn’t seem to be for you. Then louder he asked, “You need help getting him up to the room?”

You turned to him to answer, but then you saw Linda over his shoulder, watching you both carefully. You shook your head. “No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll–” Ransom took that moment to fall loudly back into his chair. He was way too big for you to handle on your own. You sighed and looked around for anyone who might help. “I’ll get Richard to help me.”

Steve looked at you confused. “I can do it.”

“I know,” you said, “but I just can’t let you. It– The way it would look,” you shook your head again.

You could tell he still didn’t get it, but he let it drop. “Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow. And if you need anything between now and then,” he sent a scathing look to Ransom, “you call me.”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t, as he squeezed your wrist and left and you went to track down Richard.

After much struggle, you finally got Ransom into the honeymoon suite, Richard retreating as soon as his son was safely dumped into an armchair next to the bed. And then you were alone with him. You just stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Can you get yourself undressed?”

“ ‘fcourse,” he mumbled, then thrashed around in his tux jacket. You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to still his wild movements, then tugged off the jacket. You carefully began unbuttoning his shirt, trying to touch him no more than absolutely necessary, but he still smirked at you. “That desperate to get me naked?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and tried to keep going, but a hand on your wrist stopped you. “Hey,” he said, very seriously. He tried to lock eyes with you, but his kept drooping, as he continued. “We don’t have to do anything t’night. Not if you don’t want.”

You scoffed. “Yeah?” you asked. “Is that you or your whiskey dick talking?” You regretted it immediately, you were so tired. You waited for the insult to land, to see how he’d react, but he’d stopped paying attention, his head lolling against the back of the chair. You finished with the buttons and kneeled in front of him to take off his shoes. When that was done, you stood back up. “Please tell me you can get your own pants.”

He nodded, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt, and stood up. He struggled with his belt for a few minutes, but eventually got it off, then pawed at his fly until he was able to undo that as well. As he moved to the bed, his pants slowly slid down his legs. You tried not to look at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. Under any other circumstances, you would find him so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. How dare he look like that and treat you like this. Just another aspect of this whole fucking mess that made you want to cry.

He stumbled to the edge of the bed and then threw himself forward, collapsing onto it face down, lying across it diagonally. Almost immediately, he started snoring. You just stood there a moment, watching him take up the entire bed. Fuck. It was fine. It’s not like you were going to sleep much anyway. You tugged his pants the rest of the way off his legs and threw them onto the pile of the rest of his clothes.

You turned your attention back to yourself and stopped, suddenly gripped by panic. You tried to reach behind yourself and begin unfastening your dress, but the line of delicate hook and eye fastenings was too difficult to get without being able to see them. And you couldn’t reach all of them anyway. Oh god, you were going to be stuck in your dress all night.

There was no one to help you. Ransom was out like a light and would be too drunk and clumsy even if he were conscious. Your mom had gone home. You couldn’t call Steve. He would come help at the drop of a hat, but if anyone saw him coming into your room… No. You were completely alone.

Every feeling you’d tried to push down and ignore this whole awful day came bubbling to the surface. You finally cried, your body wracked with sobs. You couldn’t control it. As you did, you still tried to wrestle with your dress, but your panic and sorrow made getting out of it impossible. So you sank down to the ground and just let the tears come.

When you were finally all cried out, you stood up and moved to the bathroom. You took off your makeup and took down your hair, redoing it in the way you always slept in. You brushed your teeth and finished up with your skincare routine. Then you went back into the bedroom and grabbed a blanket off the bed. You moved into the adjoining living room and sank down onto the couch, arranging your giant dress around you. You turned on the TV and settled on a marathon of some procedural crime show you were pretty sure you’d seen before. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted the night to go quickly.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @citronbun @ladyvenera @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle

#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #knives out #steve rogers #steve rogers & reader #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #ce characters #kris wrote something #more than this

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sweetsbfreex · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞

summary: y/n has an event to get to last minute, so steve has to take care of his daughter at work. in the universe of this one shot (read before)

pairings: dad!mafia/gang!steve rogers x wife!reader

warning: none just fluff!

Today has just been a day. You have no excuse except for the fact that it slipped your mind and when your calendar notified you, an hour and a half before the event started your mind began to scramble.

Steve’s parents can’t watch Elysia because they have a date night. They offered to cancel, but you couldn’t ask them to do that. Natasha was out of town. You had even asked the babysitter, but it was too last minute for her. So, there’s one last option.

“Hey doll, you girls alright?” Steve smiles into his phone, happy to hear your voice.

“Hi, baby” you beamed, brushing on highlighter while keeping a careful eye on your daughter. Elysia was chilled out on your bed, entranced in an episode of Paw Patrol.

“Look, I’m really sorry, it slipped my mind, but I have an event to get to in a few. And there’s no one to keep an eye on Elsie. Can I drop her off to you?”

“Yeah, of course. I've been missing her a little extra today anyway.”

You sigh in relief, “I love you, you’re the best” you tell him, sending a kiss through the phone.

It’s at least twenty-five minutes later until your heels are clicking against the lobby’s marble floor. Elysia’s designer baby bag is slung over your shoulder and your two-year-old is sitting on your hip as the two of you walk to Steve’s office.

You knock on the door twice, before you pull it open. As you enter, Steve’s head shoots up, then an affectionate smile graces his face at the sight of his favorite girls.

“Daddy!” Elysia cheers with grabby hands towards her father.

Steve walks over to greet the two of you; kissing Elysia’s cheek and neck, chuckling as she squirms because his facial hair is ‘ticklish’, before he brings her into his hold.

And before you know it, Steve brings his lips down onto yours. All while removing the baby bag from your shoulders. When he pulls away, he’s whistling with ardor as he spins you to give himself a 360 of what’s his.

Your body is flawlessly dressed in a customized cream suit with gold buttons. The coat wraps around you to accentuate your waist and breast, your pants hug your ass perfectly. As the pants flare out as they go down your leg. He loves how the diamond necklace and earrings he bought as one of your push gifts make your eyes twinkle.

Your cheeks heat up at the way he fawns over you. Many years later and you’d never get used to it.

When he stops you, his hand tugs your body to his, “You look..exquisite” he husks, squeezing your hand. “Mommy looks exquisite, doesn't she?” he asks Elysia who responds with an exaggerated nod.

“Look Quiz-it!” she garbles the tough word out

“Thank you, you two. But I have to head out if I want to make it on time.”

“Where are you headed anyway?”

“Maggie is throwing something for her launch,” you answer while fixing a boggle in Lys’ hair that held one of her space buns. “I promised I’d be there. I like this tie, it matches your eyes perfectly”

Your hand runs over the patterned blue tie. You didn’t get to see him this morning, as you usually do. He slipped out before the sun even came out, with just a kiss to your cheek as his ‘see you later’ so he wouldn’t disturb your sleep.

“Thank you. Drive safe and be safe, Joseph will be right behind you.”

You groan. He lavished the trait of overprotectiveness. There was one instance where you had begged and begged to roam free without anyone on your tail. It didn’t end well.

“Non-negotiable, text me when you arrive safely” he reminds you, grasping your chin for a kiss.

“Bye baby, I'll see you soon. Be good” you kiss her before pinching her chubby cheeks.

As the door shuts softly behind you, Steve and Elysia are stood in his expansive offices hands up in a wave. “Looks like it’s just me and you, baby doll, are you hungry?”

“No” she responds.

“Okay, would you mind if daddy worked for a little bit more?”

“It’s okay” she lisps.

Elysia is settled on her father’s lap, Steve’s phone in her tiny hands as she watches ‘The Princess and the Frog’. Occasionally her big eyes roam over the big screens on her father’s desk.

With his little girl present, Steve isn’t able to complete any of his gruesome tasks, just the light stuff with no pictures or videos.

“Daddy?” Elysia calls for him, her head tucked back.

“Babydoll?,” he answers, looking down.

“I’m thirsty, do you ‘ave apple juice?”

“Do I have apple juice? Do I-- are you kidding, how could you ask that.” while he throws his whole spiel, loving the wide smile on her face. His hand discreetly opens the mini fridge under his desk. It’s always packed with what she enjoys. He pulls out a juice box, and presents it to her like a magic trick.

“Yay!” she giggles, clapping her hand in glee before she grasps the juice box in both hands eagerly, in turn dropping her father’s phone to the ground. “Oops” she murmurs at the sound of the clatter.

“It’s alright, just remember to be careful next time” he responds, picking up the newest model.

Some time passes before Elysia grows bored and begins to squirm and whine.

He picks her up, placing each foot on his thigh.

“What’s up, why are you so crabby?,” he coos, running his forefinger down the slope of her warmed up nose while the other hand holds her up by her waist.

“Wanna play” she bounces her legs, pointing behind her.

He sighs, checking his watch: 6:03pm. Under twenty minutes until his meeting. So, they play to her heart's desire. He has a few of her favorite things stashed away so he pulls those out after shrugging off his coat.

Now, he’s sat criss-cross applesauce getting berated by his toddler and thankfully y/n has texted that she’s arrived safely.

“No, daddy! I’m the chef.”

“Okay, okay. Can I order an orange juice and sandwich, please” he orders through the small window of her Little Tikes play kitchen.

“Seven thousand dollars,” she tells him, hand out.

“Prices are a little steep, don't you think?” he jokes, but forgets it’s his two-year-old he’s talking to. “Tough crowd,” he continues, before dropping the fake, blue credit card into her hands.

“Hmm.” she hums while she thinks, “No monies. No food” she tells him this reproachfully, her eyebrows knit together as she drops the card in his hands.

“What?” he gawks, “You’re gonna let daddy starve?”

She sighs before dropping a banana into his palm, “Thank you, babydoll” he smiles, kissing her cheek through the screen as she giggles, her hard chef mask breaking through.

“Daddy, I don’t wanna play any more.”

“Yea? What do you want to do?”

“Stickers! Stickers! Stickers!” she chants to a tune, walking around to her father.

Against his will, Steve is still sitting on the floor and his toddler stands before him. One of her tiny fists holds a sheet of glittery Lisa Frank stickers while the other places them on his face.

“Cat or tiger?” she asks, bending her head down.

“Tiger”

She beams, placing it on the middle of his forehead, then kisses it for good measure.

There’s an incessant buzz in the air. His phone against his presidential, dark wood desk. He goes to it immediately to see it’s a call from Bucky, therefore noticing the time. He’s ten minutes late. Steve Rogers is never late.

“Shit.” he mutters, ignoring the call to begin peeling off the stickers in a haste.

“Bad word, daddy!”

“Sorry, baby, sorry” he responds in a haste, when he’s sure his face is bare. He pockets his phone, shrugs on his coat, grabs his binder, and picks up Elysia as he dashes to the elevator.

“Hi uncle bucky! Hi uncle sam!” Elysia bounces at the sight of her god fathers, waving at the two as she walks by on her father’s hip.

Steve walks in stoically, there was no way in hell he’d let his men enjoy him coming in flustered and out of sorts. Everyone was in attendance, and sat in their respective seats. When he begins to settle down and start the meeting there’s laughter in the air.

“The fu--” he stops himself, taking a deep breath. “Would anyone mind letting me in on what’s so hysterical?”

‘The fuck are you clowns laughing at’ is what he really wanted to say.

“You gotta..” Bucky stops to gather himself, a smirk on his face. “Got a little something there,” he points at his own jaw as a mirror.

Steve sighs, attempting to find the bright, pink, glittery sticker on his face when his little one speaks up, “I’ve got it, daddy” she peels it off easily and places it on her own cheek.

“Thank you, babydoll,” he kisses her hand before taking a seat at the head of the expansive table. Placing her on his lap and passing her a small bag of goldfish with her water bottle. Elys has pinky promised to be on her best behavior and Steve had promised that he’d make sure the meeting wouldn’t go as long as they usually do.

“Okay. As you can see we have a special lady with sensitive ears joining us today. Please keep your language clean and appropriate, however hard that may be.” Steve dictates, taking a glance at every man in this room to not take his words lightly.

The meeting drags on, they don’t have much of a choice to discuss some matters at hand. But these men are smart and know how to improvise…

“Uh, sunshine (Lloyd) was last seen at a recital (strip club) selling kool aid (drugs) to any of the girls that would take it. We assume it’s his way to sabotage the opening by… you know.” Tony flairs his hand around as a jester.

Before Steve is able to respond, a smaller voice gets to it, “Daddy, I love kool-aid. Alot alot alot!”

Steve chuckles at her cuteness.

Throughout the meeting everyone is meant to talk over and ignore the children's songs emitting from Steve’s phone. And the light, cute voice that sings along to some of them.

A pack of goldfish later with half a bottle of Elysia’s water. Steve keeps his promise to keep the meeting short, concise, and kid-friendly. Well-sorta, there was one slip up but Steve was quick to cover Elysia’s precious ears and stare down the incompetent imbecile.

He’s packing his things up, putting his notes and papers in order while his little girl giggles at her uncle Sam’s magic tricks: pulling a silver coin from her ear.

It’s her favorite and will get a laugh from her every time.

In no time, it’s just him and Ly descending via elevator. Steve has decided they both have had a long day, and going home early for once wouldn’t kill him. It was seven in the afternoon anyway, close to her bedtime.

He knows she’s had a long day when one of her small arms is wrapped over his neck as her head is tucked against the side of his neck.

He can’t lie that the thought of sleep sounds good to him. He knows you won’t be home till a little later. But he can’t until you’re home so he can cuddle into you as you both drift off.

“We’ll be home pretty soon,” he kisses her forehead just as the elevator dings!

“Okay,” Steve sighs as he enters through the familiar emerald doors, placing the baby bag onto the coat rack. His dress shoes are toed off with speed and just as quick he pulls off his baby’s shoes.

He sets her down in the living room taking a seat on the couch.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she squeaks, walking over to the remote to bring to her father who understands her demand.

“Does a PB and J sound alright?”

“Mmmm” she drones on, her hands rubbing against her clothed stomach.

The sandwich is assembled at her request. Crust off the toasted bread and a little bit of honey drizzled on top of the peanut butter.

Elysia sits on Steve’s lap as she nibbles on her sandwich. Steve is dressed down in just his slacks and wife beater; braiding Elysia’s hair in two as she watches ‘Little Bear’ and eats her sandwich.

He struggles to do so at first, until y/n’s voice swims through his head. Reminding him what he needs to do.

As Lys chews and her father braids, she holds up half her sandwich in offer behind her. He smiles as he takes a small bite, smiling and moaning about how yummy it is and how thankful he is for her sharing. Then he kisses her cheeks, nipping in jest.

Once he’s finished braiding Elysia‘s hair and Elysia is done eating her food. She scrambles up until she’s latching onto her father. Her arms are thrown around his neck while her legs clamber to wrap around him.

Her cuddles are like sleeping sand to the mob boss. He rubs her back as he leans down parallel to the couch, his sock feet hanging off the arm of the couch.

“I love you baby doll. Best thing to happen to me and your momma.” he whispers, placing three kisses to her forehead.

“Love you” she slurs while her soft hand lands onto his cheek.

Without even knowing, his eyes are shut as his breath evens out and his arm circles around his angel’s body to keep her from rolling off of him.

It was a great time. You were happy you got to support Maggie on her big day, but you missed your husband and the rambunctious little girl you were graced to raise.

You remove your heels, hissing as your sore feet hit the hardwood floor. The house is quiet as you toe into the house. You can see the living room light is on. You assume Steve has kept it on for you just as you do for him and it makes your heart sing.

As you walk in, to shut off the warm lamp, your heart really does sing at the picture perfect image: The father-daughter duo are knit together as they step in dream land together.

His brawny arm is wrapped around her body and his mouth is dropped open in a way you think is adorable. It makes the intimidating man everyone else sees morph into the wonderful, sensitive man you’ve married.

They’re still dressed in their day clothes, but nothing could ruin the cuteness overload.

You tiptoe towards the two, leaning over them as your hand runs through Steve’s hair, the other down his free arm.

He startles awake and his grip tightens on Elysia a little bit, but his body relaxes once he sees it’s you and smiles.

“Hey, seems like you two had a good day,” you whisper, your hand running over the braids Elysia adorned, those were not there before.

“We did,” he puckers his lips, and you lean down to peck him. “How was your night, have fun?”

His hoarse voice is like music to your ears.

“It was great. Missed you two a lot though. Thought of you and that sexy tie all night.”

He smirks at your shallow attempt, a glass box if you will.

“Yeah? I’ll finish getting her to bed and then we can discuss my sexy tie.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait,” you giggle warmly, kissing him one more time before you stroll to your shared bedroom.

He watches the way you saunter away, and if it weren’t for his baby in his arms he’d probably tackle you right then and there. But with much restraint he’s up and on his way to Elysia’s bedroom.

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback <3

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elkleggs · 1 year

Note

It’s so good of you to take prompts! I understand how busy things are!

Have you done any Sarah Rogers? Maybe looking fondly at Steve and Bucky (any age, au perhaps?) Thanks.

Sarah Rogers in her early 30s. Joseph Rogers at 21. Perhaps these are the only surviving photographs Steve has of his parents.

Technically these aren’t quick prompt fills because I’ve had them both as WIPs for a long time. Thank you for the push to finish them and opportunity to post!

#prompts #sarah rogers #joseph rogers #my art #digital art #portrait illustration #steve rogers #captain america

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meidui · 2 months

Text

abusive joseph + tony comforts steve

Cat's in the Cradle by Last_Chance_Anna

Steve starts thinking about his father and the affect he had on his life. Tony is there to offer support and comfort.

sympathy, won't you come around? by @16woodsequ @turtle-steverogers

“Oh god.” Steve turns, head on a slow swivel, looking around.

He knows this alleyway. He knows this street, the buildings, tall and laden with clotheslines, running from fire escape to fire escape like veins bleeding life into the city.

They’re in the wrong place. They’re in the wrong time.

In the Dark by @16woodsequ

Joseph Rogers may or may not have been a terrible father, and Steve may or may not dislike small, dark places as a result.

Thankfully, that isn't something he has to deal with much as Captain America.

For the most part.

Hydra bases really suck.

Demon in a Bottle by @avengersnewb

Young alpha Tony Stark picks up his omega, Steve Rogers, from his dad's place, bruised and battered, and he has to do his best to protect his omega from the harms of abusive alcoholic parents.

How to Bond with Your Fellow Superhero 101 by StillTurningOut

"Agree to disagree. But I think I remind you of someone else."

It was eerie watching Steve's reaction. He closed in on himself, 6-feet-something turning into a tiny pile of hurt right there on his lab stool. He looked like a kicked puppy. A really young kicked puppy. A new-born kicked puppy, if you will. Steve with his head tucked down, and the sleeves of his hoodie pulled over his knuckles, he looked all of 21. Which is really too young, in Tony's opinion. Too young to take over a company, for sure.

Maybe too young to get the serum, too.

"I don't know what you mean." Steve tried, but he is a really, really terrible liar. So there's one thing his old-man got right about him.

"Look," Tony dropped into the stool across from Steve, dropping his lever onto the table.

“Did I scare you?”

#inspired by lunafresas' last ask!!#stony #stevetony #fic rec #*

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turtle-steverogers · 10 months

Note

Okay so I've have this idea ever since I watched Endgame and I can't figure out how to make it work pothole wise but I have to share with you.

So you know the part where Tony and Steve go back in time to the 1970s? Ever since I watched that I was like "What if something goes wrong and they accidentally end up in Steve's childhood instead??" I know you like A+ parenting from Joseph Rogers and I can't stop thinking about Steve and Tony's tumbling on top of a scene between little Steve and angry Joe Rogers.

Just imagine, first they're simply standing in front of like, a run-down building and they're both kind of confused of why they're there but then they see this little tiny kid playing with marbles or something next to the street. And Tony is busy processing the fact that they're in the wrong year and that the kid looks like Steve and that he looks so small and thin.

So he doesn't realize that Steve tenses up when they hear a shout from the building. And they look up to see a burly man come out looking mad and maybe a little bit drunk and little Steve scrambled to pick up his marbles but Joe grab him first and is yelling at him with his fingers in a vice grip around his arm.

And Tony looks at Steve and Steve is pale as a sheet and doing that thing where you revert back to how you were in that time because you haven't processed any of the feelings you had then, and Tony figures out what's going on in a horrifying abrupt flash of realization.

(And then maybe Tony steps into confront the dad, despite knowing it's going to influence the timeline. I don't know about that though because it will just cause more problems for little Steve once they leave so maybe he tries and then big Steve is like no don't! And then they have to talk about it.)

Like I said I can't figure out how to write this scene because it doesn't make any sense for both of them to somehow land in the 1920s and also how on Earth are they going to get to the '70s if they run out of Pym particles etc but I don't care because I want to see it so bad.

Oh god, logistics be damned, because i’m just picturing the scene

“Ah, shit--”

“What the hell?”

It happens so fast that Steve loses his footing, crashing backwards and nearly bringing both him and Tony down as he’s yanked bodily into an alleyway. He stumbles, straightens, blinking hard against the blood rushing from his head before Tony’s grip on his arm tightens hard enough that Steve winces.

“We’re in the wrong place,” Tony says.

“What?” Steve is certain he must have heard him wrong. He must have, because the city is loud around them and cars are whirring by in what has to be afternoon traffic, children yelling down the street, some kid hawking papers and kicking up a flock of pigeons as he shouts, “Paper! Getcha paper! Family dies in horrific car accident, went straight offa the Bridge! Two cents!”

And it’s a lie. Steve knows it’s a lie, because he used to lie to sell papers for the entire two years he hawked them back in ‘25, because his dad was blowing all their money on whiskey and gin and they needed to eat.

“Oh god.” He turns, head on a slow swivel, looking around.

He knows this alleyway. He knows this street, the buildings, tall and laden with clotheslines, running from fire escape to fire escape like veins bleeding life into the city.

They’re in the wrong place. They’re in the wrong time.

He looks at Tony, who looks just as stricken as he looks back.

“We messed up,” Tony says. “Big time. Except we totally didn’t mess up, because I am positively certain that we put in the right date and time and this isn’t New Jersey, this definitely isn’t New Jersey.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve agrees, and he looks at the street. Dares to look, because he knows if he angles himself just right, he’ll see his old building. The one he lived in with his ma and dad, then just his ma, then eventually Bucky and--

He squeezes his eyes shut. He needs to think. About the mission, about the Pym Particles that were evidently wasted when someone or something sent them to the wrong place and time. Not about the familiar smell of the city street. Dust and motor oil and the faint scent of boiled corn. Not about ghosts that are drifting around him. Not about the fact that if he cranes his neck just so…

“We need to-- I don’t know what we need to do, but we need to do something. Fuck, what year is it even? We’re-- where are we? I don’t even know where we--”

“Brooklyn,” Steve says, opening his eyes. He can’t quite breathe, the reality of the situation settling in. Tugging at his ribcage. He’s going to vomit, he thinks. Maybe. “I don’t know when, but we’re in Brooklyn. Sometime around my time.”

“Okay, so this is definitely targeted, because that is way too specific to be a random mistaken coincidence,” Tony rambles, tapping frantically on his Time-Space GPS.

It’s no use. Steve knows it’s no use, because they’re out of Pym Particles. Collectively. And there’s no way of letting the others know about their predicament.

They’re stuck. They’re well and truly stuck.

Steve should feel more panicked, he knows that, but he’s stuck, incapable of moving. Of feeling anything other than abject horror as he finally gives into the urge to shift his gaze, lean slightly to the side, and look around toward his old building.

Kneeling on the front steps is a little boy, knobbly knees folded on the ground as he leans over, rolling some marbles around on the ground with great focus. His blond hair is dirty, falling in front of his eyes, which he reaches up to push out of the way, and Steve recognizes his clothes-- the brown, wool shorts he liked to wear and a ratty gray button up pulled out of the waistband. He’s barefoot, because it’s warm out, and it never mattered if he was wearing shoes or not when it was warm out. In fact, it made his leg braces easier to wear, which are fastened around his legs at an uncomfortable angle.

“1924,” he says.

Tony stops his rambling, and Steve realizes he's been talking to him.

“What?”

“It’s 1924.”

Tony frowns, looking at him. “How do you know?” He follows Steve’s gaze, then freezes next to him. “Oh my god, that’s not-- is that--”

“Yeah,” Steve says, feeling like he might pass out as he watches his little self shift around, tugging at the straps of his leg braces, trying to stop them from digging into his calves so hard. His fingers flex at his side, and he can almost still feel the dull ache in his knees. “That’s me. Fuck. Oh my god.”

And he remembers this. Remembers the way the marbles felt in his hand, remembers being sad because Bucky had been out of town with his family that week, so he had no one to play with. Remembers what’s about to happen next--

“Fuck, there you are, boy!”

Steve can just make out the words over the throng of the city, knows people are looking, but it’s not out of the ordinary for the time, so no one is stopping. No one in the city ever stops. Not for business that isn’t theirs.

“Oh my god,” Tony says next to him, and Steve’s eyes are glued on the scene as a man comes barreling out of the building, burly and tall and looming, going straight for the little boy on the steps. The stuff of Steve’s nightmares, all wild eyed and sweaty. He’d been real mean that week. Work had laid him off when he failed to show up for the millionth time, too drunk to know up from down, and Steve and his marbles had paid the price. “Is that-- who’s that?”

Steve swallows, tastes biles, makes his throat work.

“My dad.”

There’s a pause. They’re both still watching as his dad yanks on his little self’s arm. The marbles slip out of his grip. He starts crying as a few tumble down the drain, and he tries to yank himself away, tries to go after them, but he’s too little.

“I thought he died in the war.”

Steve sways. He doesn’t know how he’s still standing. All the blood has rushed away from his head, pooling in his stomach, making it churn. He hasn’t thought about his dad in years. Hasn’t let himself.

“Yeah,” he says. “He might as well have.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

His dad is dragging him up the steps, slapping him hard across the face when he starts to wail.

“That fucker,” Tony spits next to him, taking a few steps forward, and he sounds angrier than Steve has heard in a while. It startles him, and he reaches out, grabs Tony’s bicep.

“Tony, wait-- what are you--”

“Shit, I can’t just let him--”

They tussle for a moment as Steve manages to drag Tony back. He can’t let him go out there, can’t let him mess up the timeline.

“You’re gonna fuck this up worse for us if you go out there,” Steve says, backing them both further into the alleyway.

He doesn’t need to look to know he’s gone deadweight, crying on his way up the steps, his dad wrestling with him to stand up, quit crying, quit being a goddamn sissy.

Tony’s expression is stricken, eyes wide and tight and Steve kicks himself, remembering that Howard had not been kind either. At least from what he’s gathered. He has never considered him and Tony to be much the same in any sense, but maybe they share more pain than he thought.

“Besides, if you go out there and try to help, he’s only going to-- he’s gonna--” Steve stops talking, mouth too dry.

He remembers the time George Barnes had tried to intervene after Bucky had told him that Steve’s dad hit him sometimes. The beating he’d gotten that night for messing with his dad’s reputation had been debilitating. He’d had to miss school for two days, and Bucky had cried when he saw him next, apologizing for getting him hurt.

Steve had hugged him, and they’d been okay. But no one had ever tried to intervene again.

Tony studies his face, and Steve can’t look him in the eye. Abruptly, he lets go of Tony’s arm, lungs compressing. He never wanted anyone to know, and it feels like his entire soul is on display, all old pains and exposed skin. Hand-shaped bruises and cigarette burns on the ghost of himself.

He’s told himself it’s fine. War had been worse, watching his home get ravaged by aliens had been worse. But he’s learning that there is no worse. No quantifying pain. Not when it raised him.

“Okay,” Tony says, his tone quiet. Understanding. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Steve shifts, looks down at the ground.

“It’s fine,” he says, then clears his throat. He needs to focus. They need to focus. “We need to figure out how to get the fuck out of here.”

Tony shakes himself, even though he still looks deeply disturbed.

“Right,” he says, looking down at the Time-Space GPS. “Okay, right, okay.”

Steve turns, casting one last glance to the stoop of the rundown building. It’s empty now, and he closes his eyes, letting the tears well. He’s scared, he realizes. As scared as he was in that moment, confused why his dad hates him and sad that he lost his marbles. He wants to cry for that little boy. He wants to pull him into a hug and tell him that he’s not dirty or bad. That the pain will wane, then wax again.

That he will survive, and keep going, just like he always does.

They find the glitch in the system, the diversion sent from some future version of evil to throw them off the scent of the Pym Particles. It’s easy enough to maneuver their way through Camp Lehigh and get more, once they make it there, then the world ends again and Steve watches his friends nearly die and his shield breaks.

It’s hell. Concentrated, fast moving hell.

And then the world is still again.

He’s tired, he thinks as he sits on Tony’s dock. The rest of the team are inside, celebrating another win. Celebrating him passing a new shield off to Sam-- one Tony had graciously crafted him once they made it back home.

He’d slipped away some time after toasts were being made, waving Bucky away when he tried to follow. He needs to be alone, just for a bit. He needs to breathe, to watch the water ripple beneath his feet and listen to dragonflies buzz over the water.

It isn’t often that he’s taken the time to slow down. To breathe, and appreciate the world as it is, whole and teeming with life. He thinks maybe now that he’s retired, he ought to do that more.

Maybe he’ll take up hiking. Or something. Maybe Bucky will join him, always being one for adventure himself. Rolling up his jeans to wade out into the waters of Coney Island, just so he can feel the sand between his toes, Becca on his back, kicking the water and splashing Steve, who’d been following close behind.

“Spangles, I thought I’d find you out here, looking all morose and contemplative.”

Steve looks over to see Tony approaching him, limping, his arm still in a sling. It had been a near catastrophic feat, using his own gauntlet to snap Thanos out of existence, but he’d done it and made it out alive.

“Yup, that’s me, morose and contemplative Steve.” He shifts over, letting Tony sit.

It feels final in a way. Like they’re finally past whatever barrier kept them at odds for so many years. It seems that this time, the world ending had finally cemented their trust in each other.

“Saw you slip away from the party,” Tony says. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just needed some quiet,” Steve says. They’re sitting close enough that Steve can hear Tony’s heartbeat with his enhanced hearing. It’s a comfort. “How’s your arm?”

“Oh, you know, a little achy, a little crisp. I still haven’t been able to truly wash it, aside from sponge baths, so it’s definitely a little ripe, too, but it’s getting there.”

Steve snorts, long since used to Tony’s chronic oversharing.

“Well, I’m glad it doesn’t hurt too bad?”

“Not too bad, no,” Tony says. It’s quiet for a moment, and they watch a gray heron land on a log. Steve takes a mental picture of it to draw later. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Was your dad like that a lot?”

Steve sighs. He’s been wondering when this would come up. They didn’t talk about it after the fact-- there hadn’t been any time-- but the space between them has felt thick with the unsaid, even with everything going on.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” He hears the shake in Tony’s voice, and looks at him. “How old were you when we were there?”

“Six,” Steve says. “It was three days before my birthday.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony says. “Did anyone know?”

“Bucky did, but no one else. He died when I was nine, and I told everyone after that that he’d died in the war. It messed him up good.”

“Damn,” Tony says. “Look, I know we’ve had our moments. Like, really tough moments, but I care about you, yeah? I give a damn, even if I’m still learning the correct ways to show that.” He shakes his head, licks his lips. Steve watches him, holding his breath. “Just… I’m here for you, okay? I know what it’s like having a shitty dad, and mine never-- never hurt me like that, but he messed me up plenty good in other ways. So if you ever, I don’t know, want to talk about it, or just need someone who you don’t have to explain yourself to, I’m here.”

It’s the most vulnerable they’ve voluntarily been around each other, and Steve reaches out, placing his hand over Tony’s on the pier. The one that isn’t injured. His skin is warm. They’re both here, broken parts of a whole. With an exhale, Steve feels like they’ve finished a chapter, ready to start a new one, on the same page.

“Thank you, Tony. I’m here, too.”

#the steve tony make-up ficlet i thought id never write #ugh anything w joseph just has the potential to be so *clenches fist* this idea stuck w me so long dude #steve rogers #tony stark #mikey answers #mutuals <333 #mikey screams into the void #avengers fic #tw child abuse #tw abuse

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hainethehero · 1 month

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Sarah Rogers calling Steve her "sunshine boy" has me SOFT😭😫😩🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🌸🌸🌸

Like, of course he is her sunshine boy! Look at him! So sweet and bright and full of goodness and hope. I have this headcanon that "sunshine boy" is kind of like when parents refer to the kid that they had after a miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy etc, as their "rainbow baby" that Steve was dubbed a "sunshine baby" because he'd survived birth despite being so chronically ill.

And it didn't matter to Sarah that Steve was sick and Joseph often berated him or beat on him for being a "useless little runt", she had her beautiful sunshine baby, who eventually grew into her beautiful sunshine boy.

[Look at that adorable smile🥺 imagine baby steeb cheesin at his mama after he threw up some milk]

#steve rogers #sweet steve rogers #sarah rogers #captain america #captain america comics #marvel #mcu #marvel comics #joseph rogers #sunshine boy

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ottersinhats · 4 months

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Roger Charles Calloway 1903-1923

Roger was the second son of Victoria and Theodore, born in 1903. He enlisted in the Great War in 1914, where while on leave he met the love of his life Violet Rosenthal. He was injured in a blast during the war, where Violet nursed him back to health. The two married in 1915 and were blessed with twins, Charlie and Elodie, the next year.

He is survived by his soulmate Violet, children Charlie and Elodie, granddaughter Elsie, and many loving extended family members.

Roger is preceded in death by his parents, older brother Edward, in laws Everett and Rowena, and brother-in-law Joseph Benowitz.

#most of the photos being with vi.. a simp like no other #rip pookie #sims4 #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 legacy #ts4 challenge #decades challenge #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 historical #sims 4 challenge #ts4 gameplay #roger calloway #violet rosenthal #charles calloway #elsie hyde #elodie calloway #ts4 1920s #sims 4 gen 4

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swan-of-sunrise · 29 days

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Hawkeye (Part III)

Summary: On Christmas Eve, (Y/N) and Steve receive some shocking updates from Clint and after the archers’ fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a Black Widow assassin out for blood at Rockefeller Center, the exhausted duo accepts their hospitality.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! I'm feeling a bit better now, so I've returned with a longer chapter filled with holiday fluffiness! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part III) December 24th, 2024 Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn (Previous Chapter)

“I still can’t believe that people really used to decorate their Christmas trees – their very dead, very dried-out Christmas trees – with lit candles.” (Y/N) shook her head in amazement as they slowly walked past the crumbling gravestones and carefully avoided the piles of snow resting atop the frozen grass on the way down the slope to their parked car. “I mean, weren’t they afraid that they’d accidentally burn their houses down in exchange for a little holiday cheer?”

Steve nonchalantly shrugged and hitched Carina higher up on his waist. “Arsenic was in practically everything, cocaine was prescribed by doctors as medicine, and people guzzled down pure wood alcohol throughout the entirety of Prohibition; trust me, candles on Christmas trees were the least of our worries. Our tree caught fire once when I was ten or eleven and after Ma put it out, she scraped together enough money to buy a secondhand strand of lights and we never put candles on our tree again.” After taking note of her stunned silence, a mischievous smile broke out across Steve’s face. “If you think that sounds crazy, then you probably don’t wanna know why we had to stop putting strings of popcorn and cranberries on the tree…”

“And you’d be absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent correct, sweetheart.”

The morning of Christmas Eve saw the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family visiting the graves of Sarah and Joseph Rogers at Holy Cross Cemetery, Brooklyn’s sole Catholic cemetery; they’d brushed clumps of snow and wayward leaves off the two weathered gravestones, laid bouquets of red and white poinsettias and recounted stories of Christmases past in a continuation of Steve and Sarah’s old yuletide tradition. Typically, Steve never cried or showed much outward emotion whenever they’d visited his mother and father’s gravesite, but that morning he couldn’t seem to keep the happy grin off his face as he held his infant daughter in his arms and explained to his parents that they would soon be giving them a second grandchild. Seeing her husband so happy about having another child and being able to experience the entire pregnancy alongside her always succeeded in causing her heart to warm in her chest, but there was something special about watching him tell his parents about the life that so many people believed – including himself – he’d never be able to live. It’s also given me several ideas of what to do with him after we put Cari down for her nap, she thought with a sultry inward smile, ideas that are a little too risqué to voice in the middle of a Catholic cemetery.

(Y/N) was in the middle of strapping a squirming Carina into her car seat when her cell phone rang. “Sweetheart, could you get that for me?”

“Of course.” He jogged around the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat, grabbing her phone out of her purse and humming in interest when he noticed the name on the screen. “It’s Clint.”

Glancing up from the buckle, (Y/N) shot her husband a knowing look and slowly replied, “That can’t be good…”

Steve nodded in agreement before swiping a thumb across the screen and putting the call on speakerphone. “Hey, Clint; (Y/N)’s hands are a little busy, so I’ve got you on speakerphone. What’s up?”

“Are you guys home right now?”

“We spent the morning laying flowers at Steve’s parents’ graves, and we’re just about ready to head home,” (Y/N) explained, a knot of apprehension beginning to fill the pit of her stomach as she detected the uncharacteristic unease in the archer’s voice. “Why do you ask?”

“We got it wrong, (Y/L/N); it was Eleanor Bishop the whole time. Kate’s mom killed Armand, framed Jack for the murder and forged his connection to Sloan Limited. She’s been working for Kingpin for well over a decade, and Kate only just found out.”

(Y/N), who’d just given Carina her pacifier and a kiss on her forehead, sat back and watched her daughter for a moment before sighing to herself, imagining the overwhelming anger, confusion and hurt that the twenty-two-year-old must’ve felt in reaction to the devastating news. “Poor Kate…how’s she holding up?”

“Better than I thought she would,” Clint replied, and there was a hint of pride in his words as he continued. “Eleanor’s turned on Kingpin and he’s gonna send a message to the city by attacking her company’s Christmas Eve gala, so Kate’s focusing on prepping for tonight’s fight. Those LARPers I told you about are giving us a hand, since most of ‘em are first responders when they’re not dressed up in costumes and pretend-fighting each other with fake weapons, and we’re gonna build as many trick arrows as we’ll need to take out an army of Tracksuits.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve’s hand twitch towards the glove box, where they both agreed to stash several weapons in the event that they were ever attacked by any new or former enemies. “Something else is wrong, isn’t it? Did Kingpin find out about-?”

“-No, no, it’s not that. Eleanor hired a Black Widow assassin to kill me; we had a scuffle last night but they retreated before they could finish their assignment. I just learned this morning that the assassin…it’s Yelena.” (Y/N) and Steve’s gazes met and their eyes widened in identical shock. “And this isn’t just an assignment for her. She’s here to avenge Nat’s death by taking out the one person she thinks is responsible.”

“…Clint, you aren’t responsible for the choices that Nat made. You know that, right?”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the call. “I know, Steve. But chances are she’s gonna show up tonight to complete her assignment, so I wanted to give you a heads-up in case she decides to go after you guys next.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You don’t really think that Yelena would-?”

“Nat told her about you, about how you were one of her best friends; if she’s targeting me, then there’s a chance she’ll target you, too. Just be ready for anything, okay? Booby trap the house Home Alone style if you have to, but don’t let your guards down.” The archer cleared his throat. “I’ve lost enough people in my life, and I don’t wanna lose any more of ‘em. You two read me?”

Although Clint couldn’t see them, a stoic-looking Steve nodded once. “Loud and clear. Good luck out there tonight, Clint.”

“And watch each other’s backs,” (Y/N) added, the barest hint of a smile beginning to play on her lips at the thought of the Tracksuits attempting to take on two skilled archers armed with the deadliest and most imaginative arrows in the world. “I’ve only heard stories from Nat about your plethora of trick arrows, so I look forward to seeing their aftermath on tonight’s newscast…but for Scott’s sake, maybe try and avoid using any Pym Particles.”

The archer chuckled. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want Hank to blow another fuse. I’ll be sure to call you guys after the firefight, okay?”

They bid one another goodbye and after Steve ended the call, he looked up at (Y/N) with a glint of determination in his azure eyes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) backed out of the car’s backseat and closed the door before slipping into the driver’s seat and sighing. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Brienne,” They both recited at the same time.

Brienne, named for the popular character from Game of Thrones, was an A.I. home defense system that Tony bequeathed to them after his death; according to Pepper, he created it shortly after their engagement announcement as a wedding present but after the Accords and what happened in Siberia, he stowed it away in his archives. It was a thoughtful gift that provided them both with a sense of security, but the A.I. – similar to J.A.R.V.I.S. and E.D.I.T.H. – came with not only a distinct voice, but a distinct and booming yell that was triggered by any movement around the perimeter of their home. The one and only time they’d activated Brienne was when they resided in Maine, and the A.I.’s defensive techniques frightened a passing black bear so badly that it scurried up a pine tree and stayed there for hours. But while (Y/N) was still unconvinced that Yelena Belova would target her in revenge for her sister’s death, she was wary of Kingpin and his considerable forces uncovering her family’s involvement in Clint’s latest mission. I suppose that the annoying A.I. is better than nothing, (Y/N) thought to herself as she switched on the ignition and her husband’s hand moved to rest on her knee, the warmth of his touch working to comfort her as they both silently contemplated their friend’s imminent fight against Kingpin, the Tracksuits and a vengeful Black Widow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“-considerable damage to Rockefeller Center, namely its ice public skating rink and the world-famous Christmas tree. But thanks to the bravery and heroism of Avenger Clint Barton, JOAD Olympian Achievement Award recipient Kate Bishop and a group of off-duty first responders, several dozen members of the organized crime syndicate called the Tracksuit Mafia were apprehended by the NYPD and no injuries were reported by any of the gala’s attendees. Additionally, Eleanor Bishop, CEO of Bishop Security and mother of Kate Bishop, was arrested for the murder of Armand Duquesne the Third, and notorious businessman and crime lord Wilson Fisk was rushed to the Rockefeller University Hospital with life-threatening injuries. After the break, we’ll talk with an eyewitness who claims to have spotted the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man swinging near the scene-”

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose.” (Y/N) remarked with a content sigh, reaching for the remote on the empty couch cushion beside her and switching the channel, settling on a broadcast of A Charlie Brown Christmas before continuing. “I just wish that Kate didn’t have to go through the pain of losing her mother on Christmas Eve.”

Steve, who was sitting behind her and gently massaging circles across her baby bump, pressed a comforting kiss onto her shoulder and rested his cheek on the top of her head as she nuzzled closer to him. “Eleanor chose Kingpin over her own daughter, and now she’s gotta answer for that choice. But Kate’s strong, and if she had the strength to throw herself into danger to do the right thing, then she’ll have the strength to recover from this.”

Something in Steve’s tone of voice made (Y/N) crane her neck to meet his gaze. When she saw the conflicted emotions written across his face and the faraway look in his azure eyes as he watched the cartoon playing on television screen before them, she moved her arm back and softly brushed her fingers through his cropped blonde hair to coax him into looking at her; he blinked and after his eyes finally met hers, she smiled but continued to twirl her fingers around the longer strands of his hair. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Her husband remained silent for a long moment, only answering after (Y/N)’s free hand moved to rest atop one of the hands that was cradling her bump. “Christmas Eve, 2017. Wanda was off visiting Vision and I was alone in a run-down hotel room in Tunis, just waiting for Sam and Nat to come back from a meeting with one of her contacts. While I waited, I was watching this special dubbed in Arabic. I remember sitting there in that room just wishing with everything I had that I could’ve been here with you, and sometimes…sometimes, I try to imagine how different things would’ve been for us if I’d ignored the risks and the mission and come home for Christmas.”

(Y/N)’s smile faltered a little as she realized what he was tentatively referring to; late into December of 2017 was when she’d discovered that she was three months pregnant, and Steve wouldn’t find out about his daughter’s existence until the summer of 2018, when the Black Order invaded and they fought in the Battle of Wakanda. Steve met his daughter that day, only to tragically lose her several hours later in the Snap, and he’d suffered with the grief of her sudden loss alongside (Y/N) for five long years until Bruce’s Snap brought all the Vanished back. “Steve…”

“I know, sunshine, I try not to but I can’t help it-”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” (Y/N) gently reassured him and when Steve took a shaky breath, she cupped his cheek and traced the smile lines around his eye with the feather-light pad of her thumb. “You know that I don’t blame you for not being there, and you know that I’ll never judge you for wondering how different things might’ve been if you were.” Her hand repositioned his to cradle the top of her bump where the baby was currently shifting about, and she couldn’t help but smile at the tender look in her husband’s azure eyes when he felt their unborn child’s faint movements. “But can you feel that? The universe gave us a second chance, Steve; the important thing is that you’re here now, being a fantastic father to Carina and doing everything a loving, loyal husband is supposed to do for his pregnant wife, and every single day, I wake up and I thank the universe for giving us this second chance.”

The worry line between his brows smoothed out as his expression relaxed and he moved one of his hands to rest on the side of her neck, softly stroking her jawline with his thumb before asking, “Have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Twice, but I could always use another reminder.”

Steve’s lips quirked upwards in amusement at her words. “I love you, baby, with everything I am and more.”

(Y/N) smiled happily up at him. “And I love you too, sweetheart.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she pulled Steve’s face down and he bent around her to capture her lips in a languid yet passionate kiss.

“Lucky, do you really have to go and invade Indy’s personal space like that? I mean, c’mon, you literally just met the guy and you’re already sniffing his business! Boundaries, dude, c’mon.”

Pulling apart, (Y/N) leaned her forehead against Steve’s and let out a breathless chuckle. “I suppose we should be good hosts and check in with our guests. We’ll continue this later, Mr. Rogers.”

Eyes darkening with desire, Steve smirked and lowered his voice before replying, “I look forward to it, Professor (Y/L/N).”

They both stood up from the couch, with (Y/N) doing her best to mask just how much her husband’s use of her title had affected her and with Steve biting back the knowing smile that threatened to break out across his face, and held each other’s hand while they left the living room and strolled into the dining room; Kate Bishop, sporting fresh facial wounds and damp hair from her quick shower, was finishing up her bowl of Kraft Mac & Cheese at the table and giggling to herself while her Golden Retriever and their German Shepard lounged together on the floor by the food and water bowl. The young archer appeared to be in good spirits, despite her near deadly fight with Kingpin himself and aiding the police in arresting her mother for murder, but (Y/N) knew all too well that her cheerful mood would steadily dissipate once the post-battle adrenaline wore off and the reality of her situation set in.

“Did you want some more mac and cheese, Kate, or anything else to drink?”

Glancing up and over at them, Kate adamantly shook her head and flashed them a bright smile. “I’m good, but thank you so much for the offer! Seriously, you guys have already done so much for me and Lucky; you made us a midnight snack, I got a post-battle shower and a fresh change of clothes, and I even got some Grade-A first aid.” The young archer beamed as she gestured to the bandage that stretched across the bridge of her nose. “I mean, who knew that Steve Rogers was good at first aid? I certainly didn’t! You must’ve learned during the war, right?”

“My mother, actually,” Steve corrected, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and giving a surprised Kate an offhand shrug. “I picked a lot of fights with bullies when I was growing up and she was the one who patched me up after each loss.”

“And that never stopped you from confronting the bullies…” Kate looked between them both and shook her head in amazement. “I’m beginning to see why you two get along so well. I, um, I also just want you guys to know that I’m not gonna tell anyone about all this.” Her dark brown eyes met (Y/N)’s, her gaze filled with understanding and an earnest respect. “You were right when you said that there’s things you’ll lose living the life of a superhero; a couple of hours ago, I helped the cops arrest my mom for murder and now I officially have no family. I can’t even imagine the sort of things you two’ve lost along the way, but what you’ve got now? I sure as hell won’t be the one to take this away from you.”

(Y/N) gave the young archer a thankful smile. “We trust you, Kate. And since you’re now privy to some top-secret Avengers intel, I should probably share with you one of the most important lessons I’ve learned as a superhero.” Kate’s brow rose in interest and (Y/N) nodded towards the cluster of framed photographs that were hung above the dining room’s antique sideboard; there was one that showed (Y/N), Steve, Sam and Nat hanging out at a bar, another with (Y/N) and Steve posing next to Tony and Pepper at their engagement party, and one that was taken of the Avengers as they dined on Chinese food takeout and planned their time heist. The last picture was of Sam and Bucky with the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family on the day they broke the news of her second pregnancy to their best friends; Sam was holding Carina on his hip and Bucky tickled her sides to get her to smile for the camera while Steve’s arm was slung around the super-soldier’s shoulders, his other arm wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist and his hand joining hers in cradling her barely-there baby bump. “A family doesn’t always have to be the one you’re born into. Sometimes, it’s something you get to create for yourself.” Kate’s eyes started to prickle with unshed tears, and she immediately began to blink them away and mask her emotional response with a bright smile, which only made (Y/N)’s sympathy for the upset twenty-two-year-old grow. “This little gumball feels a little restless, so I’m gonna make some hot coca. I’d be more than happy to make enough for everyone…”

Steve, instantly catching on to her line of thinking, lifted their joined hands up and gave her knuckles an exaggerated kiss while subtly winking for just her to see. “Mmm, you know how much I love your famous hot coca, sunshine. You use real milk and imported Belgian chocolate, don’t you?”

“Of course, that’s how it becomes so rich and creamy. I even sprinkle a pinch of gingerbread over the whipped cream to give it that seasonal flair.”

“Gosh, I’d just hate for anyone to miss out on the experience of enjoying such a special beverage…”

Watching their staged exchange with a growing smirk, Kate burst into laughter and raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get the hint! I’d love some of your famous hot coca, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) beamed in triumph, giving Steve a chaste kiss on the cheek before releasing his hand and striding into the kitchen; as she assembled her ingredients and put the saucepan of milk on the stove to boil, she listened in on Kate and Steve’s conversation about archery, smiling to herself as she imagined her husband comforting their own children in a similar manner. Steve often doubted himself as a father, a habit he’d once confessed partially stemmed from never having known his own father, but (Y/N) never once doubted that the man who was patiently listening to an impassioned rant about the possibilities of various trick arrows in combat situations and even injecting his own opinions for Kate’s benefit was meant to be a father.

“Oooo, (Y/L/N)’s famous hot coca!” (Y/N), who was mixing the chocolate into the simmering milk, glanced over to see Clint enter the kitchen; the archer was toweling his hair dry, mindful of the steri-strips and bruises that littered his face, and the sight of his fluffed-up hair and eager grin forced her to stifle her chuckles. “Need any help with that?”

“Not with this, but could you grab some mugs from the cabinet for me?” He did as she asked, setting four mugs down onto the counter and nodding when she murmured her thanks. Seeing that he was preoccupied with examining the ‘America’s Ass’ mug that Scott sent Steve for his birthday, she took the opportunity to inspect his many visible wounds and winced in sympathy. “I’m looking at Yelena’s handiwork, aren’t I?”

Clint huffed out a humorless chuckle and nodded. “Yep. Not my first time having my ass kicked by a Black Widow, but I don’t remember it hurting as much as it does now.” He sobered when he caught sight of her concerned frown, slinging the towel he’d been using over his shoulder and giving hers a reassuring pat. “I got through to her in the end, and that’s all that matters. And for what it’s worth, she only really seemed pissed at me, so it’s safe to say that you and Steve are in the clear.”

Switching the burner off, (Y/N) took the saucepan off the stove and carefully began pouring the liquid into each mug. “I know that she just tried to kill you a couple of hours ago, but I still can’t help but hope that I’ll get the chance to meet Yelena someday. I spoke with Alexei and Melina over FaceTime after the Battle of Earth and I helped them arrange for Nat’s plot in Ohio…”

“But you haven’t been able to pass along the holographic puck she recorded Yelena’s message on,” Clint finished and pursed his lips in contemplation. “You told Alexei and Melina about the puck, right?” (Y/N) nodded as she reached into the refrigerator for a can of whipped cream. “It’s safe to say that before tonight, Yelena wasn’t ready to accept that Nat’s gone, but now? It’s possible that she’ll be ready for some closure, so don’t be surprised when you open your door to see her standing on your porch one day.”

While she added a sizable swirl of whipped cream to each mug of hot coca and finished them off with a sprinkle of gingerbread, (Y/N) smiled to herself and snuck a brief glance at Clint. “You know, Nat told me once that she counted herself lucky to have the three best siblings in the world; I’ll never forget just how happy that made me, because that was around the time I finally decided to go no contact with my family. She was my sister, in every sense of the word.”

“I know how you feel; back before Laura and the kids, Nat was the only family I had.” The archer’s voice cracked but he managed to muster up a reassuring smile for her. “I know that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me and that that’s something I’m gonna have to live with…” He peered out into the nearby dining room and watched Kate enthusiastically mime firing trick arrows as she talked to Steve, his smile softening and his blue-grey eyes filling with parental pride. “But I think that she’d be proud of what I accomplished with Kate.”

(Y/N) leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss onto Clint’s cheek before giving him a smile of understanding. “I think she would, too. Now c’mon, Hawkeye, let’s go deliver a little Christmas cheer and learn about all the possible applications of boomerang arrows before your guys’ ride to JFK gets here.”

Loading the mugs onto a tray, (Y/N) and Clint joined Steve and Kate at the dining room table, where they enjoyed their hot coca and engaged in a lively debate about the sort of trick arrows that the archers believed could work in a battle; (Y/N)’s hand absentmindedly rubbed across her bump as she watched Clint and Kate’s playful argument, her lips curving into an amused grin that only widened when she caught Steve’s azure eyes and he scooted his chair closer to hers so that he could drape an arm over her shoulders. Not quite how I pictured our little Rogers-(Y/L/N) Family Christmas going, she silently admitted to herself as she contently rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You still haven’t convinced me that boomerang arrows aren’t an excellent idea, Clint.” Kate stubbornly crossed her arms and turned to (Y/N) and Steve with an expectant look on her face. “Be honest, guys, doesn’t it sound like one of the best ideas you’ve ever heard?”

Ever the diplomat, Steve masked his chuckles with a contemplative hum and shrugged. “I’m not too sure how you’d be able to apply it, but it’s not a half-bad idea.”

Kate fist-pumped the air in triumph while an indignant Clint’s jaw dropped and he whipped his head around to stare at Steve. “Seriously, Rogers? You think it’s a good idea that an arrow should be able to fly back at you after you’ve fired it?”

“To be fair, he never said it was good,” (Y/N) pointed out. “What he said was that it wasn’t a half-bad idea.”

“Thank you, sunshine.” The archer rolled his eyes when Steve leaned over to plant a soft kiss onto her cheek and shot him a mischievous smirk. “All I know is that you could’ve taken out a helluva lot more Chitauri during the Battle of New York if your thirty-two arrows could’ve boomeranged back to you, Barton.”

Kate’s hand quickly moved to clamp over her mouth to muffle her laughter and (Y/N) masked hers with an unconvincing cough as Clint gasped in exaggerated outrage and made a rude hand gesture towards a chuckling Steve. “Damn, Clint, need some aloe for that burn?” Kate snickered and reached across the table to fist-bump Steve. “Thanks for the support, man!” The young archer leapt up from the table and hurried over to the duffel bag she’d deposited in the entryway. “And here, I’ve already thought of how I’d design the arrow!”

“Wait, Kate, you’re gonna trip the-”

“UNAUTHORIZED WEAPONRY DRAWN ON THE PREMISES, MY LORD AND LADY!”

Clint’s hand flew towards his hearing aid and Kate yelped in surprise, poking her head back into the dining room with a shell-shocked expression written across her face. “What the hell was that?!”

With a sigh, (Y/N) set her empty mug down onto her coaster and smiled despite herself. “Brienne.”

“Or as I like to call her, the posthumous revenge of Tony Stark,” Steve added, his own grin dimming a little as a wistful gleam filled his azure eyes. “Wherever he is, he’s gotta be laughing his ass off right now…”

“Language!” (Y/N), Clint and Kate’s exclamation broke the tension and even Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing along with them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter left, guys! (And don't worry, we'll soon find out who was watching (Y/N) in the last chapter) Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Hawkeye (Part IV)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345@crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovyqueer @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

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darthbloodorange · 2 months

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Steve is on his own now. But at least he can take comfort in that he managed to have his mother buried next to his father.

For the: ✦ @anyfandomangstbingo , prompt: “Orphan” [G1]

Word count: N/a - Art Title: Orphaned Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sarah Rogers & Joseph Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers Warnings: Grief/Mourning, Parent Death Major Tags: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug ~ Summery: Steve is on his own now. But at least he can take comfort in that he managed to have his mother buried next to his father.

I had MCU Joseph Rogers' grave read 1926 (616 death) instead of 1918 (MCU death) as a nod to "Joseph Rogers' +A Parenting". i.e. Joseph didn't die in the war, but a few years later… a darker, wounded man.

#afangs #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Marvel #Angst #Hurt/No Comfort #Pre-Serum Steve Rogers #Grief #Parent Death.#Steve Rogers Needs a Hug #DarthBloodOranges Art #DarthBloodOrange

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zaraomarrogers · 1 year

Text

Always and Forever - 14

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!reader

Warning: Angst, Fluff, 18+ content (Minors DNI)

A/n: A very special to thanks @sunshine-on-my-mind for helping me out with this chapter. Meera, I wouldn't be able to do it without your help. Thankyou for your endless support.

~*~

Dear Y/n,

I thought it was time to let you know about what happened, and if you have figured it out by yourself, I’m not surprised it took you so long.

Our mother, had made me a pawn in her game. She had framed our father and alleged him of cheating when in truth she was the one who had an affair.

And she had always played games with our family for her own gain. She used me to separate you and Steve and manipulated me.

Steve was drugged. He never cheated on you while you two were together. What happened after that- it’s better to not think about.

Also, few years ago I heard couple a rumours swirling around the firm that our mother might have a hand behind Joseph Rogers death. Yes, it wasn’t just a cardiac arrest. I ignored them in the beginning but a lot of things about her behaviour has started surfacing recently and I had to probe.

I’m sending you whatever evidence I pulled off of our mother’s transgression. You are not as naive as you were before, so I hope you wisely decide what to do with this information. I apologise for not using my own brain and be a tool in our mother’s game.

Regards,

Peggy

~*~

Tiny specks of dust seemed to dance in the shaft of afternoon sunlight that slanted through the long glass window. Y/n pressed her temple harder from her left hand while still trying to remain focus on the designs in front of her. The sun light had started to cause her eyes squint making her migraine ten times more worse. She pressed the button on the extension phone to call Lily in her office and as soon as she came in, she rushed towards the desk where Y/n was seated with her face hidden in her hands.

“Are you okay?” Lily asked worried.

“Just migraine, can you please close the blinds and turn off the extra lights?” Y/n said in a low voice.

“Sure. Do you want me to call the doctor or something. You don’t look good.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine, just gonna sleep it off. Call me an Uber and go through these files, and give ‘em to Steve in the meeting. He’ll have it discussed with the financers.”

“Okay. Do you want me to tell Wanda or Mr. Rogers about you leaving early?”

“Oh no, no need. Just inform them in the meeting.”

“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to see the doctor?” she was genuinely concerned.

“No Lily! I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay. Your Uber is 5 minutes away.”

“Okay, thank you Lily.” Y/n tried to stand up on her feet not without a faltered step, she immediately hold the edge of the table. She took her sunglasses out of her bag and put them on. Taking off her heels and holding them in her hand she slid her purse on the shoulder and walked towards the elevator. Lily offered to accompany her to the ground level where the ride was waiting for her but she refused.

It had been a week and a half since she’d been sitting on the email she received from Peggy. It took her couple days before deciding that she should share the content of the email with her father before saying anything to Steve. But Wanda and her had planned a vacation trip for Daniel and Alice for their wedding anniversary and she couldn’t burden her father with this vile information she knew nothing about. It was better to wait for them to come back and then she’d accost the issue.

Peggy’s confession didn’t exactly make her feel relieved that Steve was blameless, deep down she knew that and the confirmation had just stamped Steve’s innocence. Her heart was breaking for Steve and the burden of guilt he had been carrying for four years. She didn’t remember how many times in the past week she wanted to just hold him tight, and protect him for whatever this was but she couldn’t do anything but wait for her parents to come back. She wasn’t even sure if she could completely trust Peggy and because of the extra information Peggy had given her about Steve’s dad had her mind numb with thinking of different scenarios and things that could go wrong. Keeping everything from Steve was right thing to do for now. It was her way of protecting him from the inevitable but the least she could do was try.

Steve was in his office with few other people from the finances to discuss the yearly expenses when Lily entered the room with a gentle knock. She placed the file in front of Steve.

“Where’s Y/n?” Steve asked a little confused when Lily started telling him and everyone else the details of the file that Y/n had managed to complete.

“She left early. She wasn’t feeling well.” Lily said fixing her glasses on her nose as a nervous habit.

“She was fine this morning.” Steve almost mumbled to himself. “Lily, what is it? She had prepared this file, and is expected to lay out the plan.”

Steve didn’t mean to come off as harsh as he sounded. He apologised immediately to Lily when he saw her flinched.

“She was having a splitting migraine. I booked her an Uber on her request, could barely hold herself together.”

“Why didn’t you inform me?” Steve’s voice was low and full of concern. Other people could see the softness and worry in Steve’s expressions.

“I wanted to but she stopped me. Told me not to disturb you before meeting.”

“Well, there’s no point of having this meeting when Y/n’s not here. She had worked hard on planning the yearly spends, I can’t decide on the plans without giving this file a thorough read.” Steve said standing up on his feet, “I’m sorry guys, but I think we’re holding up on this meeting for couple a days - good thing we still have time, so a little delay won’t be bad.” He dismissed the meeting with a tight lipped smile. His mind was wrapped up in the news Lily just gave him. He had been distant from Y/n after seeing her and Andy the night he stayed at her house. It wasn’t intentional, the hurt was doubled with fear, the fear of losing her for good had him thinking worst possibilities He kept the interaction between them bare minimum, and wasn’t surprised when Y/n didn’t make an effort to reach out to him, not that he was expecting her to be. He was just in his head that he didn’t even notice that Y/n was also uncharacteristically quiet, even with Malcolm she was not engaging. They both were in their own heads and none of them noticed that.

Steve entered Wanda’s studio that was on the top floor of the building and spotted her working on one of her many master creations. Steve looked around and silently praised her hard work.

“Wanda..” Steve cleared his throat, “I’m going to pick Malcolm up and head to Y/n's.”

“Mhmm...” She nodded, eyes still glued on the mannequin in front of her.

“Y/n has already left. She wasn’t feeling good.” Steve said again when Wanda didn’t say anything.

“Why? What happened?” She finally looked at him with a slight frown.

“Lily said she was having a migraine so she left. I’m just going to go check on her... if she needs something.”

“Oh no! She’s got migraine.” Wanda whispered to herself. “Okay, keep me posted, I’ll drop by once I’m done with this.” She said mentally figuring out her busy schedule.

“Sure.” With that Steve left. Something was not right, he could feel it in his heart. Worry started to take over him as he sped up the car. An unsettling feeling had crept into his heart the moment he entered Y/n’s house. He put down Malcolm from his arms on the floor.

“Y/n?” He called. He made his way up the stairs and into Y/n's room, Malcolm hot on his tail. He could hear the low voice of coughing from the bathroom.

“Y/n? You okay?” He peeked into the bathroom from the door, seeing Y/n bent over the toilet, vomiting and coughing. In long strides he covered the distance and sat on the floor, legs drawing on either side of her, he gently pulled her hair back from one hand and slowly rub her back.

“S – Steve, just go. It’s gross.” Y/n said in a low raspy voice. She slumped against Steve’s chest, on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom. Steve wrapped his arm around her protectively.

“Do you want me to call the doctor? We can go to any walk-in clinic? Do you need some meds? Y/n... sweetheart?” his voice was laced with concern and worry. Malcolm came to stand in the door way, clutching his stuffed puppy, worried seeing his mama like that.

“Mama?” Malcolm’s voice wavered with emotions. Steve and Y/n both looked at Malcolm’s who had tears in his eyes now.

“Mal-pal, go get mama’s pain meds. You know which one right.” Y/n said in a barely audible voice. “I’ll be fine, Steve. Don’t worry.” Her head was throbbing in pain. Malcolm made his way towards the sink cabinets, he stood on the step-stool and opened the left one and took out a bottle of prescribed medicine. As he came towards Y/n , she felt another wave of nausea hit her, crouching over the toilet she spewed the contents of her stomach. Steve, again pulled her hair back and rubbed her back. Malcolm grabbed the towel from the sink counter and brought it to his mama and handed her the painkillers.

“Mama pwease be okay.” His lower lip trembled and Y/n opened her arms to hold him while still seated between Steve’s legs.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I just have a headache. I’ll be okay when I wake up. You know that right, Mal-pal?”

Malcolm nodded, kissing her on the face. He stepped back and hold out his hand to hold her, so that he could take his mama to the bedroom. Steve was silently witnessing them, his heart clenched assuming that this wasn’t the first time it happened. Malcolm had seen and been through the situation before.

“Here bubba, let me help mama.” He said, taking Y/n in his arms and carried her bridal style to the bedroom. The dim light from lamp made her squint her eyes. Gently, Steve laid her down on the bed, tucking her under the covers, he placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He whispered and kissed her hair again.

He looked around and see Y/n’s pile of clothes on the floor that she changed from after coming home. He picked her work clothes along with her bra and panties and dump them in a laundry basket. Malcolm was right behind him, watching his dad cleaning up the toilet and picking up the used towel and throw it into the hamper. Steve left the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, he turned off the night stand lamp, turning the room dark. The only light coming was from the bathroom.

“C'mon bubba, let’s fix you something to eat.” He carried Malcolm in his arms and came downstairs in the kitchen, setting him on the counter he asked him what did he want to eat. After a little debate, the father – son duo agreed on having some fruits and yogurt. They spent rest of the evening painting and colouring in hush voices. Malcolm told him that Y/n had had migraine before but he was unable to explain it that got Steve more worried. Dinner time rolled around real quick for Steve and Malcolm who were snuggled on the couch in the living room, watching Ms Rachel on YouTube.

By the time Wanda dropped by, Malcolm was tired and already sleepy. She brought Chinese takeout for Steve and Malcolm.

“Thanks for the dinner, Wanda. I really appreciate it.” Steve said taking a seat on the couch across from Wanda. Malcolm was in Wanda’s lap, quietly playing with the loose thread on her sweater.

“Oh, it’s no problem, Steve. How is she? Still sleeping?”

“Yup. She took the pain meds.” Steve fiddled with his fingers, unable to form a sentence. “Is – is it umm normal thing; I mean her migraine. She threw up couple a times, she’s in so much pain.”

“Yeah, whenever she gets this.. migraine, it’s always worse. It’s not a usual occurrence, something triggers it. I don’t know what does it this time. She seemed fine to me. But the only thing doctor had said is to sleep it off and rest.”

Steve nodded, “Did it happen in front of Mal too? I mean, he knows where her meds are.. I – I panicked when I came here.”

“Yes, she kinda explained him that if she gets it and there’s no one home, Mal knows what to do, and where to get her meds. Don’t worry Steve, She’ll be fine when she wakes up, a little drowsy but that’s the meds effect, once it flushes out of her system, She’ll be perfectly fine.”

“I can’t help but be worried. I’ve never seen her like this and its killing me. Mal's too small to – “ He didn’t finish, just sighed heavily and leaned against the back of the couch.

“I know what you mean, Steve. Its just – she wouldn’t want us to carry the weight of her worries, she’d internalise everything. I have to dig her sometimes, get to the root of her stress. She’s stubborn like that.”

“Yeah, I know. Same old Y/n" Steve smiled.

“So...”

“So?” Steve raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m here, I mean if you...”

“I don’t want to be anywhere but here, Wanda. If you want to stay, you’re most welcome.”

“Oh okay. Guess, I can trust you with my sister and nephew.” Wanda teased.

Steve rolled his eyes and Wanda chuckled.

“I know you will take care of her and this little guy.” She slightly nudged Malcolm in the ribs who was soundly asleep.

“Ohhh...” she whispered looking down at Malcolm.

“Here let me take him to his bed.” Steve offered standing up.

“It’s okay, I’ll put him to bed and check up on Y/n.”

Steve nodded, “You sit and eat. It’s all cold now.” Wanda whispered while taking Malcolm upstairs to his room. Malcolm started stirring when she tuck him in, whimpering a little he opened his blue eyes.

“Where daddy?” he panicked.

“Mal, he is downstairs, eating dinner.” Wanda whispered rubbing his back gently.

“No, daddy. I want daddy. Pwease daddy.” His sleepy eyes were filled with tears.

“Sshh, let me...” Wanda took him in her arms again.

“Here, bubba. I’m right here. No need to cry buddy.” Steve must have heard his voice so he entered the room right when Wanda was about to take Malcolm back to him.

“See, Wan Wan is trying to help you go back to sleep.” Steve gently rocked him in his arms.

“Stay daddy.”

“Okay, I’m not going anywhere. You want some chicken noodle soup? There’s some spaghetti as well.”

Malcolm nodded his head and they made their way back to kitchen. Wanda reheat the food in the microwave while Steve sat Malcolm down on the dining chair.

“Thank you Wanda.” Steve said with a genuine smile.

“No problem Steve.” She returned the smile. “I’m gonna get going. I’ll stop by in the morning. If you need anything just call or text... or whatever okay?”

“Sure. Thanks again.”

Once Wanda left, Steve finished the dinner, putting the plates in the dishwasher, he cleaned the kitchen while making small conversation with Malcolm who just had few bites of spaghetti. He took Malcolm to his room, both of them whispering and laughing and just being silly. He changed Malcolm into his night suit, brush his teeth and tucked him again in the bed. Two and a half story later, Malcolm finally fall asleep. Steve looked at his little bean lovingly, his heart melts and he placed a kiss on his nose. It was hard for him to decide who hold the more power over him – his little boy or his baby's mama. He would do everything in a heart beat for both of them. They were his purpose of living. His happiness. His all.

He got up after kissing on Malcolm’s forehead one more time and came to check up on Y/n. He sat down on the floor leaning against the bed. Y/n was still sound asleep, her left hand hanging from the edge of bed. Steve took her hand in his, kissing the back of it. She stirred a little, tightening her grip in Steve’s hand she folded their intertwined hand on her chest.

“Did Mal eat?” she asked in raspy, sleep laced voice. Her eyes were still closed.

“Yes. He has.” He whispered. He couldn’t comprehend the emotion he felt.

“Did you eat?”

“Yes. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” He said trying to restrain his feelings. He just wanted to take her in his arms and ease away her pain and all the stress that’s causing her all the suffering.

Steve didn’t realise when he had fallen asleep in the same position, his mind was still foggy when he felt soft caressing brush in his hair and on forehead. It took him couple a moments to register the soft touch of Y/n’s finger tips on his skin, just like the old times. He opened his eyes to meet her sleepy gaze, didn’t know what time of night it was.

“C’mere.” Her voice sent tingles in his body.

“Yeah? You okay?” He got up in a speed.

“Come. Lie down here.” She moved and patted on the now empty space on the bed. “You’ll get a sore neck.”

Steve was dumbfounded, had no clue how to react. Every fibre in his body wanted to join her in bed, cuddle and go back to sleep but there was this hesitation in his mind. She wasn’t his anymore. His heart churned at the thought. He opened and closed his mouth unable to respond to her.

“Please Steve. It’s okay.” She felt his hesitance and without giving it much thought he moved underneath the covers. Y/n didn’t wait for him to settle, she wrapped her arms around his torso and snuggled into him. She was still under meds effect so it didn’t take more than few minutes for her to fall back to sleep, Steve smiled and closed his eyes, letting her soft breaths on his neck lulling him to sleep.

The next time he woke up when he felt something or someone poking in his ribs, like someone’s trying to shake him awake. He slightly opened his eyes, trying to adjust his vision and the reason behind this sudden intrude.

“Daddy?” Malcolm whispered near his ear. Steve immediately turned to look at him. He was big spooning Y/n, their legs tangled and Y/n’s head was on his arm, her back pressed against his chest.

“Daddy, I go pee.” Malcolm whispered again. Steve slowly moved away from Y/n trying his best not wake her up.

“C'mon bubba, let’s go to the bathroom.” Steve carried Malcolm to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet.

“Why you sweep with mama, why no me, daddy?” a small pout was formed on Malcolm’s face while he was still sitting on the toilet.

Steve turned around from wiping his freshly washed face on the towel and looked at his son bewildered, totally clueless of what to say.

“Umm... because mama asked me?” Steve shrugged earning a frown from his son.

“Why? Why no ask me? I mad.” He complained.

Steve chuckled, a little loudly much to Malcolm’s dismay, he folded his small arms on his chest.

“Okay, I’m sorry. When mama wakes up I ask her to let you sleep with her tonight.” Steve came to sit in front of him.

“C'mon bubba, let’s clean you up and make some breakfast.”

“I eat same wike you.”

Steve ruffled Malcolm’s hair and after changing him out of night suit, he brushed his teeth and washed his face. Both of them headed to the kitchen, Steve made scrambled eggs for both of them. He decided on keeping Malcolm home for the day. After breakfast, he gave Malcolm his paints and books to colour while he started working online. Y/n came downstairs a little late. She was better than yesterday but still tired and lethargic. Steve made her cereal and be his usual protective self. Wanda came by to check up on Y/n but she was fast asleep on the living room couch. She dropped off the lunch she made for them and left after a while. Y/n was in and out of sleep, only waking up for an hour or so and went back to sleep again. Malcolm had a less to no eventful day, he was bored but Steve got him busy, engaging him in conversation and making few promises to Malcolm that would probably land him in trouble once Y/n would be up and better. Their day was slow and dull, the only best thing was that Y/n was getting better as the medicine worn off.

~*~

"Where daddy?" Malcolm’s eyes were still closed and he was still in a sleep haze but first thing that came out of his mouth was asking about Steve. Y/n chuckled ruffling his hair one more time she opened the curtains and blinds of Malcolm’s room.

"Mal-pal wakey time." She started picking up the stuffed puppy from the floor that must have fallen down while Malcolm was asleep.

"Daddy? Need daddy." Little boy whined again.

"I'm right here, bubba. Wakey wakey." Steve came in and lightly tickled in Malcolm’s ribs and sleepy giggles filled the room. Y/n rolled her eyes while taking out Malcolm’s clothes from the closet.

"Wana go pee, daddy." Malcolm whined in between his laughter.

"Go ahead! You know the drill buddy." Y/n said.

"No, with daddy." Malcolm said clinging to Steve’s neck who was still sprawled on the bed. Y/n shook her head and Steve laughed taking the little boy in the bathroom.

Y/n's phone rang, Wanda was face timing her just to check in.

"G'morning!" Y/n smiled. She came down to the kitchen to fix coffee for her and Steve.

"Morning! How are you?" Wanda stuffed her mouth with a spoon full of cereal.

"As good as I can be." Y/n hummed.

"Back to mama duty yet?"

"Still on break. Malcolm wants Steve to do everything for him. He's making him brush his teeth right now. He won't let me do anything. I think Steve’s making him breakfast as well."

"Awww that's cute. Good for you, get plenty of rest, hit the salon and do your nails and stuff. Want me to book your appointment?" Wanda winked.

"No thank you! I'm good. Still got few things to work on before I come back to work."

"Ugh! Y/n, you're so boring. Steve’s got all your work done, don't worry about it."

"He's been loaded with work, Wan. I can't ask him for more. Besides, Mal's not letting him have at least a moment."

"And I'm loving every bit of it." Steve hollered from the stairs with Malcolm sitting on his shoulders making silly noises.

"Don't worry about the work stuff, I'll have it all covered. Just relax and rest." He smiled at Y/n with pure adoration in his eyes.

"Hi Wanda!" He came around the corner of the kitchen island picking up his coffee mug.

"Hey Steve! Wassup!" Wanda smiled at the sight of Steve and Malcolm.

"Hi there cupcake."

"Hi Wan Wan! And mama just west and we'ax. 'Kay mama." He repeated Steve’s words and the three adults in the room burst into laughter including Malcolm who was now in his mama’s arms. Y/n kissed on his nose and then on cheeks and sat him on the kitchen island.

“Mal-pal, what do you wana have in breakfast?”

“Same as daddy. ‘wambled eggs.”

“Okay. Let me fix some for all of us then.” She chuckled taking out eggs, butter and milk from the refrigerator.

“Oh no, you’re not.” Steve snagged a bowl from the cabinet and all the ingredients as well. “You’re still off the duty, it includes this as well.” He pointed to the scattered items on counter. “Just sit and relax.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes on him that he efficiently ignored and started whipping the eggs in the bowl.

“Steve’s right, you know. Just enjoy doing nothing while you can.” Wanda chuckled looking at her sister’s annoyed face.

“You two are – ugghhh.” She huffed in annoyance over how Steve and Wanda was treating her delicately as if she was going to break or something.

They ate the breakfast mostly talking about Malcolm having fun at day care, kind of a heads up for the little boy who wasn’t ready to leave his parents. While Steve took Malcolm to drop him off at the centre, Y/n put the dishes in a dish washer and cleaned up the kitchen. Steve wasn’t going to let her do that but the glare she gave him, had him surrender rather quickly. When Steve came back home, Y/n was all showered and changed into comfy lounge pants and a hoodie. Her towel dried hair and clean, make up free face got Steve staring at her with his heart in his eyes. She smiled catching him staring at her, a deep blush formed on his cheeks and he turned to sit on the kitchen table resuming his office work and few online meetings that he had to attend. Y/n left to go to her room and when she came back, she had her iPad in her hand, few of Malcolm’s toys and what looked like a photo album. She got herself comfortable on the couch and looked towards Steve who was busy talking to one of their co-worker. He felt her gaze and looked over only to find her smiling at him. As soon as he ended the call she patted the spot next to her on the couch. Steve raised an eye brow at her mischievousness but still came to sit beside her leaving an appropriate gap between them.

“Here.” She handed him a memory book that said Malcolm’s first year. Steve looked at the book and then her, she gently nodded at him. Gulping hard, Steve opened the book, his heart beating fast and a storm of emotions swirled through him when he looked at the black and white image of a sonogram and at the bottom in Y/n’s hand writing, three weeks was written.

“It’s him.” She pointed at the tiny peanut size spot on the image. “This was my first check-up after finding out about him. I was already three weeks along.” She smiled at him, he couldn’t return her smile.

There were all the sonograms pasted on the book, from a size of peanut to a squirrel and then a fetus, Y/n had a story to tell with every image. She made Steve laughed through his tears, letting him in on the journey she took alone.

“All the sweet things I’d had craved for, Mal loves them. I wonder still I’m not diabetic yet.” She chuckled. “You know, Alice used to make me brownies every other day, I’d finished ‘em and she’d make another batch. During my second trimester, I ate brownies like a mad person.” She sat with her legs folded, without noticing she covered the distance between them. She was now pressed into his side as she turned the page of the memory book.

There were pictures of new born Malcolm in Y/n’s arms taken at the hospital.

“I told you he was born a little preterm, right?” Steve nodded. “He decided to join us in the 36th week, Dad and Alice were on vacations...” She lightly chuckled, “... Wanda and I were home, I invited Buck to have dinner with us, Wanda had been crushing on him ever since...” She laughed, “... and just when everything was set on the table, my water broke. We rushed to the hospital, I started my contractions but it was really far apart so they sent us back home. And you know what, when we got back Bucky was still running late.”

“Typical Bucky.” Steve muttered rolling his eyes.

Y/n laughed, “Well, at least he made it just in time to take me to the hospital again. Because I couldn’t eat or rest, I was just so stressed, seven hours later we hit the hospital again and they finally took me in. I was only six centimetres dilated so we had to wait another few hours and contractions gotten worse.” Her brows were furrowed as she gently touched the picture of her and new born Malcolm.

“The pain was so much, I felt like my bones were crushing, but... you know what Steve, it was all worth it.” She smiled and looked at him. He had tears in his eyes, she gently took his hands in hers and squeezed. “Just when I was ready to deliver, doctors were there, everything was set, they could see his head but Malcolm decided to turn inside, changed his position, his head bumped into my pelvic bone and the cord was wrapped around his neck. He was getting concussion. Everything happened so fast after that, doctors made on the spot decision and cut me open. It was an emergency c-section...” Steve sighed heavily, closing his eyes. Tears slid on his cheeks and Y/n was quick to wipe them away. She gently turned his face towards her.

“Hey, it’s okay. It was all worth it. Steve, look at me.” And he did. He saw a beautiful smile on her face. “I missed you so so much I can’t even tell...”

“I’m sorry Y/n, I would spent every breathing moment apologising to you and still won’t make it up to you.”

“Shusshh!” She intertwined their fingers. “I’m telling you all of this not because I want you to feel bad or make you regret, but, because I want to let you in all the experiences that I’ve had without you. I want you to be a part of it. I don’t want you to live with the burden of guilt that you’ve been carrying, Steve.”

“Easier said than done, Y/n. You went through it alone, I wasn’t there when I should’ve been.” Steve gulped hard, his worry lines deepened.

“Forgive yourself Steve. Let the past not affect our present and future. Please Steve. Whatever happened four years ago, had already happened. It’s time to move on. I don’t want you to live like that.”

“Like what Y/n? I’m fine.”

“Bullshit!” She scoffed. “Why do you think I’m keeping this memory book for? Yes, I wanted to cease every moment of our little boy growing up. I wanted to capture all of it but deep down I was doing it for you, no matter how angry I was, I still wanted to share everything with you Steve, because you deserve it. You deserve to know about every single detail of our son's life. Please, you gotta leave the past in the past. Please don’t carry this weight anymore. Forgive yourself, Stevie. Please for me, for Mal.”

“Y/n, I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Have you? Have you forgiven me? – “

“Yes.” She replied promptly.

“Before you say anything Steve, let me tell you that I was ready to forgive you even when I didn’t know about you and my sister. And I have still forgiven you because I know you, Steve, I know that you’d never do what you were made to think you did. You don’t remember anything from that night right?” He nodded. “Dad and I both think that you were drugged, we don’t have a proof but it could be a possibility. Now, why would I be mad at you for something you don’t have a control over and I told you this in New York, didn’t I?” He nodded again.

“I was angry because you didn’t come but you know what, I’m not... not anymore. You made a mistake, we all do. I wasn’t the only one hurting, you were hurting too and it took me long enough to realise that you don’t deserve to live with this guilt. You don’t deserve to be punished for the one mistake you ever made Stevie. I’m sorry I didn’t realise this sooner.” She cupped his face, wiping his tears with the pad of her thumb.

“let it go, Steve. Forgive yourself please. If you’ve ever loved me, you’d forgive yourself. Please.” She knew what she was asking him to do. That was the least she could do for him.

“I have always loved you Y/n and you know that.”

“Then what’s stopping you Steve. Let’s put everything behind us.”

“I can’t promise but I’ll try.” He gave her a tight smile. Covering the small distance between them she pressed her lips on to his. She didn’t move her lips, just pulled back enough to see his eyes widened. She chuckled lightly, leaning in to him again but just when she brushed her lips on his, he pulled back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“You have a boyfriend.” He whispered placing his forehead against hers.

“Oh! Yeah?! Yes.” She looked disappointed. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence, steadying their rapid heart beats. Steve focused his gaze on the book that was in his lap. With a small smile he was staring at the pictures.

She stared at him in wonder, unable to keep her thoughts straight. Everything about him was beautiful, everything about him was enticing and loving.

“Can we be friends?” She asked couple a minutes later. Steve tore his gaze from the pictures to see her looking at him expectantly. For a second he couldn’t comprehend her question, not believing his ears.

“It’s okay if you’re not – don’t...” She rambled seeing Steve struggling to say something.

“No! No its not what you think...” Steve cut her off almost immediately. “Honestly I wasn’t expecting you to ask me that. I- I mean I just couldn’t believe if I heard you correctly.” Steve said sheepishly.

“So?” Y/n chuckled.

“So, I say let’s be friends.” Steve said enthusiastically making Y/n laugh out loud. “I mean I’d be whatever you want me to be. Ya know if you’re – I mean...” Y/n put a finger on his lips shushing him.

She slid her arm in his arm, rested her head on his shoulder getting comfortable in his warmth. She dragged the book in the middle and sighed lazily.

“Let’s start with being friends.” She looked up to see him with widened eyes. “What? Friends do sit like this. Now just relax Steve.” She nudged him in the ribs lightly getting his attention back on the memory book. She started showing him all the baby pictures of Malcolm and all the stories along with it making him loosened up a bit. They watched the videos on her Ipad, Steve cried watching Malcolm took his first steps towards Y/n. The video was made in Bucky’s phone, Y/n was sitting on the floor when Malcolm stood up on his feet holding the coffee table and took a step forward without any support. He landed straight into Y/n's arms, cackling and laughing. All the adults in the background cheered on the little boy's first milestone.

There was another clip of fifteen months old Malcolm who had just started saying small words like no and yeah. Y/n made video of him sprawled on the bed playing with one of his toys babbling new words when he uttered Dada – his first clear words.

Steve gasped, emotions bubbling in his chest as he replayed the video letting his tears fall freely.

“Hey... it wasn’t suppose to make you cry.”

Steve shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He glanced at her with all the raw emotions flashed in his still red eyes.

“Why – Why’d you do that? Why’d you let him know me when I wasn’t there? I don’t deserve – “

“Would you stop with your bullshit, Steve?” She sat straight facing him, her knee touching his thigh.

“Every child deserves to know their parents, no matter how complicated the relationship is. Knowing you as his dad has been the best thing happened to him. In his eyes, you’re perfect Steve and I’d like to keep it that way... because you make him the happiest. You’re his favourite and that makes me envy you.” They both chuckled. “I know what’s going on in your head but, please, do not give in to those thoughts. You aren’t your thoughts, Steve. You’re the best father to Malcolm and both of you are lucky to have each other.” She smiled fondly at him.

“I promise I’ll try with everything in me to be the best version of myself - for Malcolm and for you, Y/n.”

Her heart did a somersault the way her name slips out of his lips. His deep soft voice sent tingles through her skin.

“I believe you.” She whispered softly. They indulge themselves to stare into each other’s eyes filled with pure love and longing. Just for a split second Steve’s gaze moved towards her lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by her. She leaned forward again hoping that this time he might reciprocate her actions but to her disappointment, he pulled her in a hug. She sighed in his embrace wrapping her arms around him. Her palms pressed against his back gently moving up and down the length of it, made him bury his head into her neck holding onto her tightly. Their desire for each other was evident in their actions. None of them were ready to pull back. Steve knew if he’d let her kiss him, he wouldn’t be able to hold back, he’d dive headfirst in to his primal desire for her. He always knew that their love was soul – to – soul connection, it’s one of the raw, sensual connection where everything else was secondary.

Self control had always been difficult for him when it came to her, if he’d requite her kiss, it’d only make things more complicated especially when he knew she had avoided talking about her boyfriend, where the heck was he when his very new girlfriend was sick and in bed. Had they broken up already? Oh, the thought definitely made him happy but he knew better.

As much as he was elated to have her back in his arms, as friends. He was also confused of her sudden change in behaviour, but that was least of his concerns right now. The wishful part of his brain taking over the rational thoughts, he inhaled deep in her hair, the smell of her shampoo calming down his nerves as the only thought that was left was; they started out as friends many years ago, that changed and blossomed into an epic love – he was ready to take on that journey again.

~*~

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #dad steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic

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16woodsequ · 10 months

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Guess who decided to ask ao3 to wrangle the Joseph Rogers' A+ Parenting tags?

#fingers crossed #asked for canonizing #ao3

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rogerswifesblog-updates · 1 year

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- chapter 3 -

Series Masterlist

Previous chapter

Masterlist

A/N: Hi!! Here’s the next chapter! I really hope you’ll like it:) ill probably be busy for the next few weeks because of my upcoming exams 😩 but thankfully the next chapter is also ready to post!

Pairing: student!Steve Rogers x Tutor!reader

Warnings: mentioned divorce between Steve’s parents, not Joseph Rogers friendly he’s a dick in this one, mentioned previous Rumlow x Reader, alcohol

For the next few days Steve couldn’t stop thinking about what happened between you two. You put your beautiful lips on him and it made him crazy. Since then he couldn’t stop thinking or talking about it. So once again Bucky was listening to his rambling. “Have you texted her after that?”, Bucky asked, sipping at his coffee, watching as Steve nodded and sighed. “Yeah, I did. Yesterday, and she said we should forget about what happened-or at least not talk about it. And that it won’t happen again”, Steve looked down at his phone, feeling how his chest tightened for a moment.

He still didn’t know why you did it, but he definitely enjoyed it. It just confused him. A lot.

“Steve maybe…maybe you should try to move on?”, Bucky said softer than usual and Steve definitely felt his throat tighten. He didn’t want to let go. At least just for the next few weeks. If you still wouldn’t want him after his birthday, then he’d stop pinning after you. Only a few weeks and then he’ll hopefully be your boyfriend. “Let’s go, break ends in a few minutes and we shouldn’t be late for biology”, he said, pulling Bucky with him.

After school he drove home, also dropping Bucky off since they lived only a few minutes from each other. “Hi mom”, he greeted his mom in the kitchen, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled softly at her son, always greeting her the same way. It was really sweet. She was incredibly happy to have a son like him. “How was school?”, it’s the usual question, followed by the usual answer about how boring it was.

He helped her prepare something to eat, before sitting together down at the table. Just the two of them, but it was better that day after the messy divorce his parents had. “What do you want to do for your birthday? It’s only two weeks”, Steve didn’t need to think about it too long, already planning something. “I’d like dinner-just you, me and…Y/N”, he said smiling, his cheeks blushing slightly. “Isn’t this your tutor your father found for you?” Steve nodded, swallowing hard, knowing this could be a slightly uncomfortable conversation.

“Yes, Dad asked to help me a few months ago. She’s really good at explaining but she’s also a great friend. I really like her-maybe we could invite her, you could meet her-”, he started rambling, as he felt blush creeping onto his cheeks, painting him scarlet. “Not that we’re a couple or anything-it’s just that-“ “you like that girl?”, his mother asked.

He didn’t know it was possible to blush even harder, but he managed.

“She-she’s very nice. And really pretty…and also really smart-like, really smart. I think she’s doing her master's in mathematics? Or-or, well at least something with math”, while he explained, Sarah put her fork down and leaned a bit back in her seat. “How old is she? You didn't mention that she’s in college before…and master, then she’s probably around 23?” His moms guessing made him wince slightly, since she didn’t sound very pleased with that. “She’s…25, turning 26 this year-but age isn’t the point-“ “Steve she’s 8 years older, how does that not matter? You know I want you to be happy, but why would you choose a woman that’s nearly a decade older than you? Are you sure she’s having good intentions-“ “Mom, we’re really not together. She said the same thing-that she’s too old”

His mother nodded, picking up her fork again and continued eating for a moment. “If you want to invite her I don’t mind, but I think your father will want to join us, so you should also tell him she’d be here”, Steve nodded at Sarah’s words, his lips twitching to a smile.

A few days later he was once again at his fathers place, waiting in his room till you arrived. “Hello Steve”, you greet him entering the room. Smiling Steve stepped closer to you, pulling you in a hug. It surprised you pretty much, but your arms wrapped around him automatically and you could feel how he put more weight on you. “Where did this come from, Steve?” You laughed against his chest, brushing your hands over his back. He sighed into your hair.

Slowly he let go of you, looking down at you with an uneasy expression. “Is it about last week? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me”, you said quietly, but Steve shook his head, even though it definitely was about last week. “It’s not like I mind-definitely enjoyed it, you know?”, he grinned, while his face turned the usual rosy shade. Somehow even you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. This boy was creeping into your heart and you couldn’t even stop him from doing so.

He took a deep and nervous breath.

“I’d like to invite you to dinner-not a date but a dinner with my parents, on my birthday. It’s in two weeks. I’m turning eighteen”, Steve took one of your hands in his, slowly interlocking his fingers with yours, your gaze immediately dropping to your hands. He was hopeful, his voice slightly trembling nervously even though he tried to hide it.

For a moment fell silent between you, while you let go of his hand, making him visibly gulp. “It’s your birthday, of course I’ll come. As your friend.” You didn’t know who you had to remind more about the actual relationship that was between you two. Just friendship. Nothing more. It couldn’t be more. “And now come on, we still have some work to do.”

You noticed how he sat much closer to you, his knee always bumping into your leg, hands curiously and unsure resting on your thighs. The worst part about it is how much you enjoyed it. The gentle touches, the soft smiles…

You were really falling for him, huh?

“You’re much better, Steve. I’m really proud of you for how far you came”, you said, noticing he hadn’t had a single mistake in his last calculations. A quiet and happy giggle escaped Steve's lips. A giggle. This boy really made it hard for you not to fall any more for him. With this sun kissed cheeks and sparkling eyes. He was truly a beauty.

Fuck, stop thinking about him like that.

Packing up your stuff you felt his gaze on you, which was something that happened quite often. He was always looking at you, not saying anything, just looking. And if you had to be honest you liked it. It made you feel pretty and even a bit flustered. You can’t remember when you felt flustered because of a man.

“See you next week, Stevie”, with that you looked over your shoulder one last time, before leaving and going straight to your place. On the way you called Natasha, asking her if she could come over in the evening.

After buying some tequila, juice and snacks you made your way home and Nat came by only an hour later, not giving you much time to do anything besides taking a quick shower. She let herself in, with a key you still didn't know where she had it from, but got used to it pretty quickly. At least you didn’t have to interrupt preparing the tequila-sunrises, something you two always loved drinking. But also telling her something was wrong.

“So what’s up? What happened that you needed to buy the bigger bottle”, Natasha grabbed the tequila bottle and looked back at you. You were probably blushing the same deep red as Steve always did. “I’m just so stupid, Natasha. Always getting myself into…. something…always some kind of trouble. I really don’t know what-“ “Is it still about Steve?” “I think I’m in love with him”, you didn’t even mean to say it. It just slipped.

Even Natasha didn’t know what to say-and she always knew what to say. She was never speechless.

You grabbed the drinks you just made, walking to the couch. “He invited me to his birthday tho”, you tried to say something, probably making it even worse. Natasha followed you, drinking a big sip after sitting down with you. You waited for any kind of answer, your chest feeling tight and uncomfortable.

“You deserve some love, you know? He may be a bit younger, but this shouldn’t affect your relationship too much. Especially not after his birthday”, she tried reassuring you, gently bumping her elbow into your side. It even made you laugh quietly, since you were ticklish and sensitive there.

You sipped at your drink, before finally looking back to Natasha. “I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship, Nat….”, you whispered, feeling your eyes burn just by the thought about your last boyfriend, fiancé even. Natasha recognised the pain in your eyes, having cheered you up after the awful breakup.

She put her arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Rumlow was a dick and everything he did wasn’t your fault. You deserve someone…good. From what you told me Steve is good. He’s a good and sweet guy”, she stroked over your hair, making you sign into her shoulder. “But he’s inexp-“ “you’ll get there. Just teach him and talk to him about everything. You two just need to talk.”

The rest of the evening was spent watching your comfort movies and drinking, leaving you with an awful hangover in the morning, while Natasha prepared breakfast for you, not even having a little headache.

The next two weeks passed quickly. The day of Steve’s birthday dinner came and you looked at yourself in the mirror a last time. You looked good. Since it was his birthday you decided to dress up, put on some makeup and also some pretty heels. It’s not like you needed to impress him but…but you still wanted him to like you. Smoothing down the last crease in your dress you put on your jacket and left your apartment. You decided to take the subway, since he lived only a few stations away.

You felt nervous, knowing you’d met his mother in a few minutes. Thankfully you knew his dad, since he was your boss, but it still didn’t make you any less anxious.

What if they don't like you? What if you’d do something stupid? What if you trip over their carpet and totally embarrass yourself? Maybe they don’t have a carpet.

You shook your head over yourself, knowing exactly your overthinking wouldn’t help you in any way.

Talking up the porch, you felt your hands starting to sweat, the gift you were holding nearly slipping out of your hands. After you rang the doorbell it took Steve less than a minute before he opened the door. Your breath hitched seeing him.

He was…also dressed up. Normally you saw him on the weekends, sleepy, in hoodies and with messy hair but today he was completely different. He wore a black button down, the first two buttons leaving open. His hair was neatly slicked back and it seemed like he was wearing dress pants, perfectly ironed. He looked so much older like that. So much closer to your age than his.

For a moment you looked at each other silently, before someone else appeared behind him. A blond woman, with identical features to his own, just more feminine. His mother. You felt yourself blushing, finally remembering to move and pulling Steve in a hug. “Happy birthday Stevie, thank you for inviting me”, you whispered in his ear, before kissing his cheeks gently. When you tried to pull away from him, he just grabbed you a bit tighter, burying his nose against your throat. Wow, you smelled so sweet. So so good. He could get drunk on you.

Over his shoulder you could see his mother smiling at you, making you smile back at her. She seemed friendly, even though you could recognise the overprotective mother gaze, watching you like a hawk.

Finally Steve let go of you and you gave him your gift. “I noticed you’re always doodling and sketching on your notebooks and homework so…yeah, I hope you like it”, you said shyly. You’ve never liked giving gifts, never being sure about what would make someone happy, but you hoped Steve would-

“Oh wow, but thats-this was expensive. I know it was, don’t even deny it”, he mumbled, taking out the sketchbook and a pencil case. They definitely were expensive, but you knew these were good to sketch. The price didn’t matter seeing how bright his smile was, when he opened the first page where you had drawn something yourself. Just a cake with eighteen candles and a big ‘happy birthday’ over it. It wasn’t as good as Steve’s drawing, but not bad. Thankfully sketching was also one of your small hobbies.

Once again Steve pulled you against his chest, holding you tightly. “Thank you, I love it”, he mumbled, before slowly letting you go. You felt blood rush to your cheeks, while looking back at his mother and stepping closer to her. “I’m Y/N, pleasure to meet you”, while you held out your hand for her to shake, you noticed how much you were shaking.

The woman smiled at you, taking your hand and pulling you in a quick hug. “You can call me Sarah, it’s nice to meet you. Steve told me a lot about you.” And even though you couldn’t see Steve you knew he was giving his mom a look and probably turning crimson.

“I brought yhm-a wine, I hope that’s okay, I just didn’t want to come empty handed”, you said, giving it to Sarah, which surprised her. But you could tell it was in a good way.

Okay, good…It looked like she liked you. At least a bit.

After that you sat down at the table, but there was still one plate and you assumed it was for Steve’s father. This only made you even more nervous. You had no idea how it would be to spend a dinner with your boss, being here as Steve’s…what? friend? Technically but…it wasn't really just that, was it? You felt like it was more, especially when he gently put his hand on your thigh feeling it shaking all the time.

“So tell me, you’re in college right?”, Sarah asked, starting a conversation. “Yes, I am. It’s my last year but I’m not sure what I’ll do after-at first I thought about teaching but I’m not sure about that anymore-”, you didn’t even think about how your words sounded, but the looks the Rogers gave you, made you think about your words choice. Have you accidentally said something different? “Was I really this bad of a student for you to change career paths?”, asked the birthday boy, making you finally understand.

A quiet laugh escaped your lips. “Oh I’m so sorry, Steve, no of course not. You were amazing-there are probably less students so attentive like you than I’d like, but it’s not that. I just-I haven’t found my path yet”, you explained, putting your hand on his arm, squeezing gently. While looking at each other you didn’t notice how Sarah smiled secretly at the two of you, knowing something you two probably didn’t know yet.

Just as Steve opened his mouth to say something the doorbell rang again, making Steve leave the room to let his father in.

You hadn’t even noticed you were still smiling, before your gaze finally fell to Sarah. A warmth spread in your chest at her knowing smirk. “You’d like some wine?”, she asked you and you nodded silently.

She poured some of the wine for you and her, before putting the wine bottle into the fridge. Meanwhile Steve came back with his father close behind him. You quickly stood up, shaking his hand to greet him. “Hello, Mr Rogers”, you smiled friendly, but he didn’t return it. Okay, weird. You actually thought he’d be the one liking you more.

When you all were sitting and had your food, Sarah took her wine glass and smiled at you. You understood and grabbed your own, raising it slightly, before taking a sip and putting it back aside. Of course Steve noticed you and his mother having wine. Why couldn’t he have any? “Mom, why can’t I have some wine too?”

She raised her eyebrows at his comment. “Because you’re not 21”, his cheeks turned slightly rosy, but he didn’t give up. “But it’s my birthday and we’re home. Just one glass, please mom.” She shook her head and for some reason Steve looked back at you. You immediately felt all eyes on you.

“Why are you looking at me?” “Can I have a sip-“ “no, you’ve heard your mom. No wine for you till you're 21-” He scoffed Slightly. “If we were in Europe I’d be able to drink already-” “but we’re not in Europe.” For some reason your bickering made Sarah laugh quietly, breaking the argument about whether Steve should get wine.

In the end he just got orange juice.

You spent the meal with light conversation, mostly talking to Sarah and Steve. Joseph only talked to Steve, even avoiding looking at you. It made you feel unwelcome. Like an intruder in their home.

“Steve, could you go and grab my briefcase from my car”, said Joseph after everyone ate a slice of cake. Steve seemed confused, Sarah as well, but either way Steve did leave the room, looking once again back at you. For some reason you felt like your mouth went dry all of a sudden. Your heart started pounding. An uneasy feeling spreads in your chest.

And you were right.

As soon as the door closed behind Steve Joseph looked at you with a stern cold gaze. “So, what is you want from Steve? Surely you’re not with him for his maturity, since you’re ten years older-“ ouch on that one, it’s only seven, not ten, thank you very much. “-why are you even here?” You felt tears burn in your eyes. And you cried rarely.

“Steve invited me-as a friend. We’re friends, that’s all-” Joseph scoffed, shaking his head. “Do you think I’m stupid, girl? If he’d be inviting his friends he’d have invited Bicky or whatever he’s called”, said the man angrily. Sarah hit his arm. “First off-don’t speak to her that way, do you understand me? Or you can leave. And second, it’s Bucky. His name is Bucky.”

He still seemed not wanting to stop. "Bicky, bucky, whatever, not even he was invited by Steve, but you? YOU? His damn tutor? Maybe you’re not even teaching him math, huh? I shouldn’t have hired you either as my assistant or his tutor, you’re probably just sleeping-" Before you could react Sarah slapped him across the face. (Thankfully, because otherwise you’d have done it yourself.) She was as furious as you were hurt. She may not like the age gap between you and Steve, but seeing how happy Steve was with you was enough to let her overlook it. Steve’s happiness was all that mattered and she could tell you had romantic feelings for her son.

“You'll apologize to this sweet woman or leave this house now, Joseph.” Her voice was calm, but you felt the rage behind it. Joseph seemed to get angrier, too. “You can’t throw me out of my house-“ “It’s not your house anymore. Now get your cheating ass out of my house and don’t even try to call Steve, telling him shit about-“, when they heard the door open their argument immediately quieted down, but you still felt awful. Humiliated by Steve’s father accusing you of…being a whore? A gold digger? You really didn’t know what exactly his problem was.

You stood up, grabbing your purse, not looking at Joseph or Steve, just at Sarah, knowing she’d understand. “It’s late, I have to work in the morning and should go. It was lovely to meet you, Sarah. I hope to see you some other time”, you said friendly, your voice shaky and Steve definitely noticed how different your demand was from how you usually acted.

Sarah nodded with a sad secret smile on her lips, knowing the real reason. Before you put your coat on, Steve gently took your hand. “I’ll drive you, come on. It’s dark. You shouldn’t be alone on the streets”, that’s one of the reasons why he wants to drive you, but the other one was to ask you what happened here while he was gone…and also ask you on a real date.

“Steve you don’t have to, it’s okay-“, you started, but he only shook his head, taking his car keys and throwing his jacket on. “It’s fine, I’d feel better that way-knowing you’re safe”, his words made your heart swell. Steve was a good guy, Natasha was right with that one.

On the way home you stayed mostly quiet, even though Steve tried to ask you what happened, but you lied once again telling him it’s because of your early work. You could tell Steve wasn’t believing any of it, but still stopped asking.

He walked you to your apartment door, not wanting for the evening to end. Before today you’ve never spent so much time together and he enjoyed every second of it. A soft laugh escaped your lips at the way Steve was standing behind you, while you opened your apartment door-definitely not needing his supervision anymore. “Steve, I think I’m safe now”, you smiled at him, making the young man blush. He shrugged, looking at you from under his eyelashes. “Maybe I want to spend some more time with you? If you’d like…”, he whispered quietly.

You thought about it for a moment, before grabbing his hand and pulling him with you into your apartment, where the first thing you did was take off your shoes. “What would you like to do, Stevie?”, the nickname affected him immediately, his face turning a sweet shade of red. “M-maybe watch a movie? I don’t know-I’ve never been on a real date-“ “is this a date?”

You didn’t mean to sound rude, but Steve seemed to take it that way, immediately stepping away from you. “I-no-not if you don’t want to-I’m sorry for assuming-” “no, no, I’m sorry Steve. It’s okay. I’m just surprised but-yeah, I like for it to be a date”, you whispered thinking back to what Natasha had said. You deserved love. Some happiness…

And even if Steve wasn’t a partner you thought you’d end up with, you’d love to try.

That’s how you found yourself on the couch in Steve’s arms, while a movie was playing but neither of you paid attention to it, being busy with talking. Him always caressing your side and arms with his fingers, so carefully it even tickled sometimes. You couldn’t tell if the tingle on your skin was from the tickling or just from him being so close to you.

“Now that I’m 18, we could be in a relationship…go on real dates…”, he whispered in your hair after a while. For a moment you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, scared of what the right answer would be.

But the right answer was what your heart was telling you and not your head. At least this time.

You slowly lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “I’d love to do that, Steve”, you whispered back, sitting up and carefully sliding onto his lap, making sure he was comfortable with you doing so. His hands found your hips, pulling you a bit closer against his chest. You noticed how he scanned your face for any reactions, but since you liked it, he only found a smile.

Leaning down you put your lips softly against his, making him gasp quietly, but he immediately returned the kiss enthusiastically-maybe even a bit too enthusiastic. Once again it reminded you of the difference between your experiences and his. Or more the lack of them.

And yet somehow you really liked the sloppy and unskilled movements of his lips, getting more used to it with every second you were kissing him. You liked how he tried to mimic your lips, his kissing slowly becoming better. The kiss was gentle and slow, making your whole body tremble. You don’t remember the last time you kissed someone just for the purpose of kissing. It was just a kiss, soft and innocent, not even using tongue. Why this felt like the best kiss you ever had you couldn’t tell.

Steve’s hands found its way to your waist, pulling you closer against him, till you were flushed against him. Hesitantly he licked over your bottom lip, wanting to deepen the kiss. You opened your mouth, letting your tongue faintly slide against his, before exploring his mouth. This time he definitely felt even more uncertain what to do, just letting you dominate the kiss, till he started returning it as hotly as you.

Grinding faintly against him, you felt his hard length pressing against his pants, against your throbbing cunt. Only two pieces of clothing between your sexes.

Panting you broke off the kiss, needing some air, but you still stayed close, leaning your forehead against his. Steve was breathing heavily, unknowingly grinding his hard cock against your crotch. You grabbed his hands, pushing them slowly to your thighs, before letting them slide under your dress to your ass. “If you want we can continue in the bedroom, Stevie, but we need to talk about some things first”, you whispered, kissing his jaw.

“Yeah-let’s-yes please”, he whispered. Surprisingly he pulled you a bit closer against him and stood up with you-fuck, you hadn’t expected him to be so strong, but you liked it. You told him where to go, the bedroom door being kicked shut by Steve, while he placed you on the bed.

Chapter 4

Don’t worry, you’ll get your smut in the next one and it’s gonna be a lot👀

Thank you for reading!! I really hope you liked it, please let me know! Leave some feedback and reblog!❤️

Questions, thoughts or wanna talk? -> inbox!

#teach me how to be good #student steve rogers #high school au #Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #Steve Rogers x tutor reader

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prettyinpink350 · 2 years

Text

Kiss and cry

Summary: steve Roger's was known as the 'nice guy's but to you he was the son of satan. He made your life hell on earth. But that all changes when you one day when your parents invite him and his family over for dinner.

Warning: down talking, bullying, manipulation, masterbaition, slight stalking, forced relationship, smut. Abo.

Dark! Alpha steve Rogers x innocent sweet omega reader

This story take place in the late 80s early 90s

April 16th freshman year...

Steve and his friends stood in the hallway before school waiting for the bell to ring signaling that school has started. Bucky and Sam where carried away in their conversation.

Steve was quite letting out the Occasional 'mhmmmm' or 'wow' Just watching people pass by then he saw you.

You were walking with your friend, your soft hair flowing as you walked, in that moment the world stopped to a screeching halt. When the breeze caught your as you passed him by, steve could smell the fruity scent off of you, mangos, apples and honey lemon.

He watched you walk away, his eyes never leaving you until your and your friend where out of sight He had never seen you before but it looked like bucky had.

"God look at that! Damn I'd to dick her down." Sam said while his eyes just got done watching your ass.

"Yo, you talkin' bout y/n y/l/n. Nahh man she won't let nobody touch her." Bucky responded

"who is she?" Steve asked playing it off as if he hadn't just seen the girl of his dreams walk by.

"Y/n she's in my history class, shes sweet an all. But rumlow tried askin' her out and she declined. Like ain't every girl crushing on that dick" bucky finished his rant.

"Wait! The senior football player asked and she said no! Yo something must be wack about her" sam mused.

"Huh? That's weird." Steve commented. The next day steve saw you walking into your Home room. During lunch steve went to the office and got his home room changed to yours. And that when all the trouble began.

Saturday

The doorbell rang, your mother opened the door with a wide smile. You stood sheepishly with your father in the living room. Worry and anxiety rolled in thick hot waves into you.

Your mother had recently befriended steve rogers mother Sarah. Mrs rogers was the most sweetest person ever, with her honey blonde hair and brown eyes. Her slender short figure was almost comically to her husbands and sons.

Steve had her loving face except for the brown eyes, his blue that swirl to green in the middle. His lighter blonde hair taken from his father and his huge muscular build made him hulk only at the age of 18. His father had blonde hair and blue eyes as pale of the sky in summer. His father slightly bigger but that would soon change once Steve grew into his full alpha body

Steve and his family walked in chatting and smiling with your mother.

“Hiya y/n, how have you been?” Joseph Steve’s father asked.

“I’m good” you answered weakly. You could feel Steve’s eye burning into you but you wouldn’t look at him.

How could Steve the devil have come from such nice people? As your parents led sarah and Joseph into the dinning room for “grown up talk” you and Steve stayed behind in the living room. You stood awkwardly my the arch door way.

“Umm..so how was day?” You asked trying to break the silence.

“It was fine.” He replied bluntly and annoyed

“So y/n’s a junior now?” You and Steve over heard the conversation from the dinning room.

“Yea she is!” You father responded

“Have you guys found an alpha for her? Is a very pretty omega” Sarah sad with joy.

“We have been looking for a suitable match, we’re nervous to talk to her about it. She’s shy, I’m sure you can tell” your mother chuckled after she spoke. “ we wanted to let her gong her own, but we’re worried she’ll get taken advantage of, or she won’t find anybody since she’s so shy” your mother finished.

You could feel Steve eyes on you again.

“Does Steve have an omega lined up?” Your father asked

“Well we thought Sharon, but suddenly sophomore year he just stopped talking to her. Now he’s a senior, I’ve been trying to make him start to get a nice girl. Or convince him that Sharon is a good match but he just waved me off and told me that he has his eyes on another. The boy refused to tell who she is” Joseph said in response.

“You don’t have a mate lined up” Steve asked his eyes looked into your mating gland.

“N-no I haven’t found a nice one yet, a-and no one ever shows interest.”

“That’s because you don’t talk, or because no one wants a slut mate” Steve spoke lowly and mean, low enough so your parents or his wouldn’t hear him.

The rest of the dinner you sat silently trying to not cry from Steve’s words and glare.

Monday

You sat in front of Steve's and his friends trying to pay attention to your work.

"Look at the omega brat! All small and scared" bucky kept jabbing your shoulders with his fingers.

"Little slut, huh? Omega whore, I bet she'll suck any guy off." Steve said right before he shoved your back, your chest slamming into the desktop. You whimpered the pain in you chest hurt like hell.

"Awww is the omega hurt" steve mocked pretending to care in a baby voice. You started to pack up your things, tears rolling down your face. You stood up walking out of the classroom the sub to busy sleeping on the job to notice.

You ran down the hallways finding the farthest bathroom to hide in. Right before you were about the lock the stall door the girls bathroom opened loudly banging. Heavy footsteps followed. You quickly shut the stall door and locked it.

"OMEGA! get out here right now!"

Steve yelled punching his fist into the door. You cried harder, so confused of what you ever did to Steve to make him hate you this much. Ever since you met steve in your homeroom class in freshman year you had a crush on him.

He smelled like apples, smoky wood, and warm chocolate. All you ever wanted was to be his friend, but somewhere along the lines you must have messed up. Because now steve was slamming his body into the stall door trying to break it down.

"Y/n! Open this fucking door right now!" You whimpered scared that you'd upset the alpha you longed for.

"I'm scared" you sobbed out, that's what did it for steve. He broke down the door eyes landing on you small figure cramped into the corner of the stall.

"Please don't hurt m-me. I dont know what I did wrong."

Steve's breaths came out in pants. Steve felt shame he scared his omega, made her think he was going to beat her. He regretted the day that sam and bucky started to tease you because you told bucky no you wouldn't go on a date with him, and he played and followed along. He hated that he did because now he was watching the girl he knew was his mate cry and shake at the sight of him.

Steve slowing walking in, holding his arms out for you. You flinched away from him -that broke his heart.

"Let your alpha make it better" steve murmured while he pulled you into his arms you shook and sobbed into him.

"Why?" You asked "why are you so mean to me steve? All I ever wanted was to be your friend" steve hugged you tighter rubbing his nose to your neck senting you.

"I'm sorry omega. Alpha just wanted you." Steve spoke while he needed your ass. Letting out a high whine from your throat when steve continued to run his mouth over your gland.

"I know my sweet omega, alpha's sorry"

A/N: I am making this into a short series, this first chapter is pretty short but I'm tired. Sorry, love ya hot stuff🤭😉

#mean steve #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america au #steve rogers angst #alpha steve rogers #alpha steve x omega reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve #steve rogers au

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