Tumgik
#steve rogers angst
thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 days
Text
the pained peace treaty
fused with the foe, chapter one
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.
summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury
word count: 4813
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
series masterlist | next chapter
info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist
masterlist | join my taglist
Tumblr media
“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”
“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”
A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”
Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”
“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”
“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”
Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”
“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 
Tumblr media
Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 
Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 
As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 
You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 
A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 
“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 
Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”
Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”
“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”
When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”
“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”
“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”
“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”
“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”
You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”
Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”
Tumblr media
“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 
Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”
“Yes, your highness?”
“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”
“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”
As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 
Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 
Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 
Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 
“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.
“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 
“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”
“What did you expect?”
Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 
Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 
The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 
Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”
“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.
“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”
Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”
He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 
Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 
Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 
Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 
“Hey, Barnes?”
Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”
“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”
“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”
“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”
“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 
Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”
Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”
Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 
“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 
“Of course, your highness.” 
“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”
Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”
“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”
“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”
“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.
Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”
Tumblr media
With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 
A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 
You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 
The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 
The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 
Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 
“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 
Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 
And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.
Tumblr media
The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 
As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 
When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 
“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 
Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 
“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”
A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”
It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 
Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 
The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 
But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 
The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 
“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 
“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 
Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 
“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 
When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.
First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”
Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 
His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 
“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”
“Oh…” was all he breathed. 
“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 
“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”
“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 
A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”
Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”
Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 
Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?
Tumblr media
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
161 notes · View notes
Text
To Know Him Is To Love Him
summary: to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.
pairing: steve rogers x reader
an: quick someone give this to a boy to read and ask him what steve did wrong. it's for science.
Anon's 1K Celebration
Tumblr media
to know him is to love him.
to know him is to stand by him.
to know him is to allow him to break your heart over and over again.
to know him to to hope that one day he'll finally see.
to know him is to be broken by him.
you can't count how many times he put you here, put in this situation. and worse, you can't count how many times you've let him put you in this situation.
three months ago...
you fix steve's tie, patting his shoulder to send him off on yet another date - after he invited himself into your apartment to get him ready for his date. you hated this feeling, the feeling of unrequited love.
you can't blame him, he doesn't know. at least, you think he doesn't know. in fact, you're sure he doesn't, he would never hurt you like that.
"i swear if this date doesn't go well, i'm swearing off women for good."
"does that mean i'm out a friend?" you tease.
"no, of course not," steve laughs. "you're my best friend. you don't count."
your smile falls at the words fall out of his mouth with ease. you don't count. you're not even a consideration. "i don't count as a woman?"
"you know what i meant. you're my friend."
you don't know what he meant. not in the slightest.
"right," you clear your throat, shaking your head with furrowed brows. "good luck on your date."
two months ago...
"i would tell him, but he's just - he's confusing," you admit. "i get a lot of mixed signals."
"men are just idiots," nat offers in consolation. "someday, he'll see. you're perfect for each other."
"thanks." you smile, walking back to your table with a fresh round of drinks. "what are you guys talking about?"
"about steve's terrible dating record," sam jokes.
"ah," you hum, you settle in the booth beside him, leaving plenty of room between the two of you.
steve frowns at you, reaching behind you and gripping your waist. without a word, he slides you until you're pressed against his thigh.
sam humorously snorts, "i don't get you two. you're attached at the hip. you're both attractive singles. make it official already."
you look to steve's reaction for any indication of what he's feeling. steve leans over, kissing your temple, "she knows she's my other half, my soulmate. we don't need labels."
"soulmate?" sam teases.
you shift uncomfortably. he never asked you that, never asked you if you wanted a label. he's never even asked you on a real date, but now he's declaring that he's your soulmate.
how blind can he be?
one month ago...
"please, i miss you, sweetheart." you squeeze your eyes shut. the term of endearment rolls so easily off his tongue. "i feel like i haven't seen you in forever."
it's intentional. you're trying to get over him. to move past these feelings. he doesn't make it easy. "i know, i've just been busy."
"how about dinner tonight? my place at 8?"
you chew on the inside of your cheek, hesitant to accept his dinner invite, "i don't know, steve."
"please, i need you."
putting distance between you and steve rogers didn't work. not when he so dutifully sought you out. not when he told you over and over again that he missed you. that he didn't know how to be without you.
his words toy with your head just enough to convince that it's a good idea to enter his gravitational orbit again.
you're not strong enough to resist the pull. you're not strong enough to to say no. you never have been.
you decide that you can't do this. you're going to tell him. you'll tell him. you'll tell him that you want to count. you'll tell him that you want him to see you.
to know him is to love him, you remember. the moment you see him, you crumble. that smile that makes it feel like your life is worthwhile. the eyes that send your rational mind into a haze. to know him is to love him.
he doesn't make it easy for you or your heart. he greets you at the door with a beaming grin, his eyes lighting up. it makes you feel like this is more than just a dinner. it feels like you're finally coming home to him.
you falter as his fingers graze your skin to take off your jacket. the apartment isn't his usual scene either. it feels like so much more than just a normal hangout. it feels... romantic. music spinning on his record player, marvin gaye, you recognize. candles lit in the center of the table. the smell of a home cooked meal simmering over the stove.
you turn to him with a nervous smile, "i thought you we were ordering pizza or something."
"i wanted to do something nice for my best girl."
his best girl.
he spends the whole dinner fawning over you. his hand rests on your leg. the other occasionally grazing the back of your hand. he asks you all about your work, about your love life.
"i missed you so much."
you're so entranced by him that your carefully thought out speech is gone, replaced by a soft whisper, "i love you."
"i love you, too." he smiles down at him. his eyes shining bright and blue. it doesn't even occur to him that you're professing your love for him. "i can't imagine my life without you."
you shake your head, reminding yourself that you had to tell him. you needed to move forward, one way or another. "no, steve, i - i'm in love with you."
an anxious chuckle leaves his mouth. his hand drops from your thigh, leaving you feeling cold, hollow, and abandoned. "what?"
you know a rejection when you see one. at least you can move on now. your heart can begin to heal. maybe in time, you could be friends again. "i just had to tell you. just once."
"i don't -" he licks his lips. "i'm sorry, i don't feel the same."
"i understand."
2 weeks ago...
you sigh at yourself, hearing the familiar ding of another voicemail on your phone.
each one chips away at your resolve, each one shatters your broken heart even more.
you told him you understood. you told him that it was okay. you spent the night consoling him. you soothed his fears that he would lose you.
in return, he made you promise to always be in his life. with a broken heart and wounded pride, you weren't strong enough to say no. you simply asked for time and a little space.
time and space that steve had no interest in giving you.
you made it easy for him. you retreated from mutual friends. from social spaces you occupied. you no longer texted or called first. you just needed time.
still, he sought you out.
you've gained enough strength to stop answering his every call and text. you've stuck to your boundaries, at least, the ones steve doesn't seem intent on steamrolling past.
you clutch your kitchen counter with your head hung low. with a couple deep breaths and reminders that he doesn't feel the same for you, you're slowly glad you didn't answer. you're proud of yourself for being strong and doing what's best for you.
at least, you're glad until there's a banging at your door.
your mending heart regrets the moment you answer.
"steve?"
"you weren't answering," he pants, clutching the frame of your doorway, "i wanted to hear your voice."
"steve..." you sputter. "this isn't - it's-"
"i just miss you," he cuts you off. he looks so heartbroken, so sincere. he misses you. you try to not make anything more of it, but then he says it again, "i miss you so much."
you stand to the side, allowing him to pass, "come in."
"thank you," he sighs in relief.
"what happened?"
"the worst date of my life."
you swear you can feel your heart fracturing. the air feels like its being squeezed out of your lungs.
and still, you stand before him trying to look as unaffected as possible. you don't know how effective it is. you don't think he sees you enough to notice either way. "you were on a date?"
"it was awful. she was vapid and boring and - and pretentious - and - and she wasn't you."
you suck in a breath, "steve..."
these were words from a man who did not love you, from a man that did not count you. they sounded an awful lot like the love he claimed he didn't feel.
suddenly, he cups your face, standing too close to you. this wasn't what friends did. this isn't how friends treated each other. you know that.
and then he kisses you. soft and tenderly. his lips mold against yours perfectly. you swear it's a sigh of relief that leaves his mouth when you don't pull away.
you smile against his lips. a sense of rightness overtakes you. he overwhelms you. he consumes you. he grips your waist tightly. the other hand caressing your cheek.
"steve.." you sigh against his lips.
and he freezes. his hands drop as though you burned him. his lips slightly swollen and shining from the kiss. he wipes his mouth, "i should go."
you shake your head. you don't want to believe that this is happening right now. this is steve. the person you loved with every fiber of your being. your friend. you trusted him. you believed in him. he wouldn't hurt you like that. even if he didn't love you, even as just a friend, he wouldn't take advantage of your love for him like that. "what?"
"i should go."
and he leaves without another word.
your heart isn't just broken anymore, it's crumbled into a million little pieces. you're not sure you'll ever be able to fix it.
1 week ago...
he's blown past all your defenses. he's drained every ounce of strength from you. he's taken everything except your broken heart and your love for him. that's all that's left of you.
to know him is to love him. to know him is to be broken by him.
he calls and this time, you answer. you fear him coming back to your apartment like he did before. your heart couldn't take it anymore.
"hi, steve." your voice is so gravelly and hollow, a shell of the fullness and life it used to contain.
you noticed everything about him. his likes, his dislikes. you could tell the day he was having by the way he said hi, by the sort of smile he gave you. you're not sure why you just realized that it's not reciprocated at all. he once told you he loved the sound of your voice, how could he not hear the broken tone? if he notices, which you're sure he doesn't, he doesn't ask.
you can hear the smile in his voice, "i'm so glad you answered."
you're not even sure that he realizes you've put the phone down. after all, you're just his space filler.
now...
you don't know why you're surprised he showed up at your door again. you're not surprised that you opened the door. you're not surprised that you let him back into your home. you're not even surprised that he's talking to you like everything is normal.
the only thing that takes you by surprise is your unwillingness to hear about the misadventures of his dating life.
"steve," you try to interrupt.
"and all i want -"
"steve."
"is for someone to really hear me, to see -"
"steve." you're surprised by the harshness in your own voice. his eyes flash over to you, widened slightly in shock. "you - you have to go now."
his brow furrow, he's taken aback. it occurs to you that he has no idea what he's done wrong. "why?"
"you know why," you spit at him.
"no, you said you understood. you said we could still be friends."
"friends?" you bitterly chuckle. "friends don't hurt their friends over and over again."
"i don't understand."
"that's the problem, steve. you don't get it. you don't get that i don't want to hear about the girls you date. you don't get that it hurts hearing you talk about what you're looking for in a woman. it hurts when call me at the end of the night because you want to hear my voice."
"they why do you answer the phone?"
"because i love you!" you hopelessly exclaim. "because i’ll do anything for you. i’ll do anything you say. and i think you know that."
"am i just supposed to know that you didn’t want to hear about them?"
"no girl wants that," you whisper. "no one wants to hear about everything they don’t have."
"i don't understand what's happening here. you promised me that you would always be in my life!" his accusing tone offends you far more than it should.
a tear slips down your cheek. "that was before."
"before? before what?"
each word hurts. he really doesn't know. he doesn't think about you at all. not as a consideration. not as a woman. not even as just a friend. he doesn't see you at all. "i can do this anymore. it’s too hard. i can - i can’t keep letting you break my heart."
"i told you that i didn’t feel the same. you knew i wasn’t in a space to - to reciprocate."
"and then you kissed me!"
he stiffens at the kiss that he refused to mention. all those nights he spent on the phone with you, talking to you. it was the one thing he never spoke about. "i - i know that wasn’t right. and i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i did that. i was hurting."
"you were hurting?" your breaths come out in fragments, with each heave of your chest you can hear the whistle of emptiness where your heart used to reside. "you - you knew how i felt and you knew you didn’t feel the same and you kissed me anyway."
"it was a mistake. i'm sorry."
your hands ball up in frustration, tear burn at the corners of your eyes. "it’s not just about the kiss. it’s - it’s everything. it’s you. you won’t let me go. let me move on. please."
steve staggers back, "i don’t- i'm not trying to hold on to you."
"why did you call me the other night?"
"because you’re my friend. you’re the person i wanted to talk to. you understand. you always understand."
"i don’t. i don’t understand. it crushed me."
he reaches out for your hand. hurt flashes in his eyes when you snatch it out of his reach. you can't let him blind you this time. "you’re always there for me. even when no one else is, you are."
you snort, "you don’t even know what you did wrong, do you?"
"you’re my best friend. i just - i wanted you hear your voice."
"you see? you keep messing with my head. you tell me that i'm the person you want to talk to at the end of the night. you tell people that i'm your soulmate. you tell me that you don’t feel the same. i tell you i want to move on. you kiss me. then you go on a date with another girl. when it doesn’t work out, you call me. i'm done. i can’t do this anymore. loving you is breaking me far beyond repair."
"i do love you."
you fervently shake your head over and over again, "you don’t mean that."
"i love you and i know it’s not in the same way but maybe - just give me time."
"time isn’t going to fix this. you don’t love me. you love the way i make you feel. you love being loved."
he scoffs, shooting a glare at you, "that’s not fair."
"no, it’s not," you agree. "and it’s not fair that you know how i feel and yet you just keep hurting me. you do it over and over again. and i keep letting you."
steve reaches for you again, "we can fix this."
you shake him off, striding to your door, opening it for him, "you should go."
"please," steve begs.
"goodbye, steve."
you don't know how you gather the strength to close the door on the man you love more than anything, let alone the man begging to stay in your life. the door clicks shut behind him.
a choked sob escapes your mouth as tears freely fall.
to know him is to love him, and you don't want to know a thing about steve rogers anymore.
AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @buckybarnessimpp @withyoutilltheendoftheline
50 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾
「 ✦ Steve Rogers ✦ 」
╰┈➤ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve rogers stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!)
╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮
: ̗̀➛ code blue by @bonky-n-steeb
✮ Steve is angry on you for behaving recklessly and you decide to let him take his anger out on you in a very unprofessional way...
: ̗̀➛ oh captain my captain by @starryevermore
✮chris knows how much you enjoy captain america, so he makes sure you live out all of your fantasies. (chris evans pretending to be steve rogers)
: ̗̀➛ it’s you that i lie with by @lipstickbisous
✮pt 1- steve rogers realizes that his love for you is unparalleled, but when he chooses to return to you by the lake, he receives a certain visit from the time variance authority
: ̗̀➛ mr. perfectly fine by @sparkleofpizza
✮Hello, Mr. perfectly fine, how’s your heart after breaking mine?” - Taylor Swift (Mr. Perfectly Fine)
: ̗̀➛ @espinosaurusrexex
☾ forever, of course
✮Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.
☾ watchful eyes
✮When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
: ̗̀➛ something new by @buckyownsmylife
✮The one where Steve moved onto another woman’s arms after the blip, but now that you’re back…
: ̗̀➛ back to you by @literaryavenger
✮You've always been there for Steve, and now you're watching him go back to the girl he always wanted.
: ̗̀➛ hideout by @ronearoundblindly
✮Grant, a guest at your middle-of-nowhere motel, has needs not covered by the usual turn-down service.
: ̗̀➛ he’s just not into you by @sergeantbarnessdoll
✮Steve isn’t into Sharon, but he’s in Y/N.
•masterlist
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
last updated march 17, 2024
28 notes · View notes
espinosaurusrexex · 4 months
Text
Watchful Eyes
CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU
read Bucky's story here
summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)
word count: 10.8k
warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*・゚
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Can you start Monday?”
“I can start Monday.”
“Perfect.”
Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 
You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  
It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 
There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 
The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  
The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 
The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 
You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 
“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 
Holy Shit. 
Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 
Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.
“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”
Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.
“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.
“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 
Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.
The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 
You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 
“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 
“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.
“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”
His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 
“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”
“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.
Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”
Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 
“Sure.”
“I’m serious, Buck.”
“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 
Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 
As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 
“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 
Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 
“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.
“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 
“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 
It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 
Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 
“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 
“Just shut up, punk.”
“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 
Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 
But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 
He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 
“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”
“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 
“You aren’t serious.” 
“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 
“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 
“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 
Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.
“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 
Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 
Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 
“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 
And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 
By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.
You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  
Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 
With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 
You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ‘not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 
You knew better though. 
People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 
Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.
Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 
So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 
Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 
Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.
He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 
The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 
Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 
It was worrisome. 
He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 
He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.
You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 
“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 
Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“
“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 
Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 
“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 
“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 
You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 
He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 
“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 
Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 
His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”
He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 
After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 
Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 
The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 
He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 
The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 
You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 
“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 
“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 
“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 
But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 
You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 
“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 
“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 
“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.
You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 
“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”
“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 
“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 
“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”
“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 
“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”
Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 
“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”
“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 
“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 
“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 
This was definitely new.
❁ ❁ ❁
The next week was pure torture. 
Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 
It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 
Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.
It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 
“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 
Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 
The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 
Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 
His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 
He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 
“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 
His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 
Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 
Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 
For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 
Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 
He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  
Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 
“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”
“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”
“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”
“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 
“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 
“So...?”
“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, very.”
You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”
“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?
“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 
“I knew it!”
“Nat, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 
Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 
Happy one month!
Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.
Happy one month.
You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.
You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 
“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 
“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 
“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 
Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.
With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 
It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 
Just like any other day...
❁ ❁ ❁
Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 
Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 
But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.
“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”
“What? When?”
“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 
“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 
“Amazing! Thank you so much.”
She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 
You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 
Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 
“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 
To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 
“You forgot your flowers.”
“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 
“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”
His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 
“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 
“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”
“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 
“Can I trust you?”
His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”
“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 
Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 
You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?
His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 
So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 
Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 
Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 
Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 
No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 
“You’re very good at this.”
He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 
“What are you doing?”
“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 
Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 
“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 
“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 
You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”
“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 
You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”
His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 
“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 
“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 
In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 
“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 
“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 
“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 
“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 
“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 
You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?
“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”
“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 
His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 
He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”
“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”
He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 
You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 
“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”
“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 
“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”
“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”
You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 
“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 
“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”
His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 
“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.
“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”
“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 
“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”
“I don’t know if I-“
“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 
“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”
“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 
“Wait. Almost there.”
“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 
Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 
“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”
And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.
He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 
A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 
But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 
“Good morning, Sharon.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”
“What? Until when?”
“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”
“Do you know what she has?”
“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”
Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 
“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 
“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 
“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 
Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 
“Hello?”
Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 
“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?
“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 
“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?
“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”
You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”
“I’ll see you.”
And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.
So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 
First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 
It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.
His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 
The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 
Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 
You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 
His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 
He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 
“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 
“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.
You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.
Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.
Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 
You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 
In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.
Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–
*smack*
His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 
“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”
“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 
It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 
“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”
You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 
“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”
Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 
“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 
He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 
He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. “Please say something, Bambi.”
“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 
Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”
He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 
His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 
The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 
Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.
I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞
Wanna be added to the taglist?
@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @fangirl-swagg @mi-amoree1111 @lastwandastan @royalwritersoftheuniverses @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @broadwaybabe18 @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @simpxinnie @blackhawkfanatic @kandis-mom @ashhsage
5K notes · View notes
moonvis · 2 months
Text
IDIOTS IN LOVE
Steve Rogers x F! Reader
incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony
Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.
Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.
Tumblr media
“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.
Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”
“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.
“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”
“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-
“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”
You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”
You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.
You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.
You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”
Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.
“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.
You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.
The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.
A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.
“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.
The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.
“I know! Old people are the cutest.”
“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”
You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.
“Y/N? Earth to--”
“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.
She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”
“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.
You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”
Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.
“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”
Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter,  would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.
Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”
You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”
Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.
You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.
Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.
You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?
Then, it hits you. Natasha.
Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”
Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.  
“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”
You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.
As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.
Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.
You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?
“Hey.”
The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”
You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass  yourself in front of him again.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.
You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.
“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”
Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.
“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.
“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.
You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”
You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”
You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”
“Y/N-”  
“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,
Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”
Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.
You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.
As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.
You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.
You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.
It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?
As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.  
“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”
“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”
“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”
It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”
You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.
“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.
“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”
“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”
The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?
“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”
“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”  
As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.
It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.
As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”
Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.
Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.
The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”
“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.
“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.
“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.
You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?
“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”
“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”
Steve was blabbering on about you?    
“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.
You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.
You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.
"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.
Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."
You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.
"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.
You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."
"No come on!"
As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.
Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.
All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.
Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.
When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”
“In the gym ma’am.”
You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”
“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”
You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”
Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.
You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.
Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.
Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.
“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”
You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”
You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.
“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”
The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.
Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.
You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”
“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.
“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”
Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”
“Cause none of them were you.”
You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”
“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.
“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”
Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.
Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”
“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”
Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”
“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”
Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.
Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”
You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”
You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.
It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.
You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.  
THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3
1K notes · View notes
sunvmars · 3 months
Text
only you || s.r.
pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)
Tumblr media
*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist
word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.
Tumblr media
"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.
"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.
The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really- but how drunk is she, exactly?"
Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.
Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.
"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.
Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."
He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.
Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.
You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.
"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"
He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"
You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.
"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"
"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.
Right. His home.
"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.
He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.
How could he say no to that?
"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.
He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.
Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.
"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.
Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.
"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."
"Will do-"
Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.
The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.
"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."
"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.
"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.
When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."
"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.
You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.
"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.
Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"
Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."
Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.
You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.
"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.
"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."
"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.
Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.
"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.
A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.
When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.
When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.
He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.
He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.
Tumblr media
"I don't think I'm right for you."
The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.
He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"
The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."
"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"
"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."
"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"
All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."
He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."
Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.
"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.
"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.
Tumblr media
“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”
Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.
“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.
As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.
He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.
The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.
You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."
"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.
He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."
The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.
The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.
Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.
The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.
The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.
The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.
Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.
He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.
Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.
"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.
"Thank you," you say.
It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.
"You okay?"
"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.
The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.
Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.
Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.
He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.
"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."
The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."
Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."
"Anytime, truly," he replies.
There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.
It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.
You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."
"I just... I have one question, that okay?"
"Hm?"
Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"
When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.
"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."
His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"
"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."
Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.
Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.
"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.
You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.
His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"
A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.
Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.
You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.
He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.
But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.
Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.
"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.
You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."
Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.
"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.
You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.
If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.
"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.
"I don't know..."
"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."
"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."
"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.
You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.
"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."
After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.
"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."
Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."
Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.
"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."
A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."
"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.
He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."
The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.
Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."
The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.
"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" he responds.
Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.
"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"
"Steve?"
"...Yes?"
"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."
Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.
With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.
He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.
Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.
Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.
Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.
"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"
"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."
Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"
The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.
Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."
You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.
The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.
Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.
Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.
Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.
He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"
You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.
Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.
"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."
"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."
A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.
"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"
Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.
"Angel, what're you-"
Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.
Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.
You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.
He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?
The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.
His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.
"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.
A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”
Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.
“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”
You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.
"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.
"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.
Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.
You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.
"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.
You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"
Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."
Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.
After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.
Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.
You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.
He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.
After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.
"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.
"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.
He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"
"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.
Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.
He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.
"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.
"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."
A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."
"For what, angel?"
"For being so...you."
You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.
The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.
Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"
"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.
"'M glad it's you."
"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."
Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.
Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.
Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."
He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.
Tumblr media
taglist!
@pigeonmama @rogersbarber @buckysprettybaby
if you'd like to be to my general taglist, feel free to ask or visit my taglist form to be tagged in more specific fics :)
1K notes · View notes
1800jjbarnes · 2 months
Text
𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
Tumblr media Tumblr media
【Synopsis】: Instead of getting ready to go see the team, Steve would rather spend his time with you and your boobs of course.
[W.C] : 654
-> Genre: Suggestive, Smut, Fluffly
Pairing: Steve x Female!Reader
[Warnings] : Heavy Breast Play, Praise Kink, Steve is a simp for you and your chest.
Masterlist | Navigation
Tumblr media
It was like another ordinary day and what that means Steve is laying on top of you with his face between your breasts. His hands softly grip all your curves, fingers grazing over the goosebumps that form on your silky skin. You knew when Steve said ‘little nap’ it was going to be anything but little or a nap. The team was expecting you two to show up for dinner within a couple of hours, but you still haven’t moved. Choosing to stay in this comfortable position with your big baby of a Boyfriend having his way with you.
His lips caught your neck, lightly groaning as his tongue lapped over the bites he left behind. He held you down with his weight, giving him all the time to make you melt. His left-hand snakes under your —well his— shirt, gripping your cover breast. He squeezed slightly, listening to your little whimpers. His actions were slowly getting rougher and rougher. He kissed up your jaw, shifting up so he can hover over you, leaning on his elbows and knees. His left hand still needs your breast switching in between each of them. While the other one holds the back of your neck making sure you cannot move.
Your back arches into his chest, hinting for his hand to whip around your body to unclasp your bra. But he sits up watching you follow his lips in desperation. His hands grip the hem of your shirt while staring deep into your eyes. You understand his non-verbal command, sitting up to throw your shirt off. You lean on your palms perking your breasts up so he and ogle at them. His mouth fills with drool, watching as your chest breathes in and out. He wanted to be slow and take his time with you but at the same time, all he wanted was to literally rip your bra off and fuck you silly just you to watch them bounce everywhere.
But he leans down kissing your collar bone down to the top of your boobs instead. The soft flesh becomes wet as his tongue licks every part he can find. He nips you lightly making you whine. His bite grazing over you, he begins to suck hard, leaving harsh purple marks over your skin. He groans looking at his work, seeing you laying down covered in his marks.
“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. His patient is running thin, unclasping your bra within seconds, letting your breasts free. He swear he could come just by looking at your body. You are perfect in every way. From head to toe, you are his everything and he was yours. He continues to praise you with sweet nothings while his right-hand palms your exposed breast. His mouth latches onto your perked nipple, sucking hard making you let out a broken whine.
“S-Ste-ah!” You couldn’t even finish his name as your brain turns fuzzy. Your hands land on his head raking them through his thick blonde hair. You tug lightly making him groan out at the painful pleasure. He removes his lips from your chest with a loud pop, moving his free hand to grab your chin.
“You pull my hair like that again and I won’t be able to control what comes next.” He growls out with a smirk. Your just smile back at him, tugging at his hair again.
“That’s it.” His arms wrap around you, pulling you up onto his lap. You giggle out with his actions, taking place on his thigh. You bit your bottom lip watching him take his shirt off.
“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh while I tend to these beautiful babies here.” He grips both of your breast squeezing lightly. “Now go on, don’t stop until I tell you.”
929 notes · View notes
imyourbratzdoll · 2 months
Note
I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈
hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.
summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.
warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one. 
You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you. 
Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?” 
Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!” 
You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear. 
“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!” 
“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.
You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”
“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.” 
You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile. 
Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.” 
With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself. 
While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to. 
“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin. 
You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.
Tumblr media
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
850 notes · View notes
irishhappiness · 3 months
Text
Clinginess
Summary: When you hear someone say that you are clingy, you tried to give your boyfriend the space that he needs.
Pairing: Boyfriend/Avenger Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Word count: 2204
Warning: Angst
A/N: I don’t think I will have time to post something lese before the end of the year. I wanted to write something where the reader is perceive as clingy against Steve. I am not sure that I did a good job but hopefully you will like it.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
After the last mission, Tony decided to celebrate. It was a very hard one, and he needed it to destress. The other Avengers were quieter but still decided to go.
Having Steve Rogers as your man meant that you had to go to events with him. Sometimes, you really were going just for him. You knew that he wasn't a fan of the attention and would prefer not to go where they were to many people. You knew that he liked your relaxing presence. He told it to you several times. You believed him. Of course you did. He would never lie to you, right?
Well, you weren't sure anymore. You were in the ladies' room when you heard two women starting to talk. At the beginning, it seemed meaningless until you heard Steve's name.
"I don't know how he does it. She is so clingy. Did you see how she is attached to him by his arms like she can't breathe without him?"
"To be fair, I would do the same if I was in her shoes."
"No, you wouldn't. You are not pathetic. You would let a man talk to someone without you for five minutes."
Your heart started to shrink. Were you really like this? Weren't you letting Steve be himself and talk to who he wanted?
"He must be suffocating. I am sure he doesn't tell her because she will cry. She seems like she would cry about everything."
"Well, if she does, that must be so annoying. I am sure he wouldn't like to be around someone who cries all the time with what he is dealing on a daily basis."
"True. Let's see if we can have a chat with him."
"Well, we both know it will be you that he would be interested in talking to."
"Maybe, but you are my wingwoman."  
"I prefer when you call me your best friend."
They laugh before leaving. You stayed a bit longer in the cubicle. Your eyes were filled with tears. You needed to get yourself together before going back to the party. You took your phone to look at some videos of animals. You knew that it would help to give you back a smile.
Tumblr media
Steve found you at the bar, asking for another drink. He asked for a whiskey while you stayed there. He looked at you, surprised. You didn't kiss him hello. He took your hand.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too."
You weren't really convincing. Your voice was tern but broken at the same time. Steve didn't like that. He didn't have time to ask you anything that Bucky was coming to join you.
The rest of the evening, Steve wondered what he did wrong. You weren't touching him, kissing him or really talking to him. It was so strange that he was taken aback by it. You never were like this. You were a physical person and he liked it.
Three hours later and the party started to slow down. Bucky asked Steve what happened for you two, not to be against each other. Steve didn't know what he did, and he pained him to see you like this.
Even when you went back to your share bedroom, it didn't feel the same. He tried to hug you and kiss you. You let him do it but didn't reciprocate the love and warmth. You could have. It was only the two of you now, but you felt guilty.
Tumblr media
Things cool down. You went back to your normal self. Steve tried not to think too much about what happened. He tried to make you talk, but you told him it was nothing. He knew that you would talk to him if you really needed it.
However, when the Christmas party arrived, you didn't feel like it. It was really strange. Steve always saw you all smily, happy and singing when the holidays were coming. You were the one who was the most enthusiastic of them all. You, who didn't like parties, always loved this one. Tony always had nice surprises, and you loved the trees.
As soon as you arrived in the room full of guest, you acted distant and almost cold, telling Steve that he should talk to people without you. He got worried. He didn't t like that at all. Things were better but now, you acted once again strangely. He wondered if you wanted to break up with him. He couldn't understand why. Things were well before the last party. He remembered exactly when your attitude changed, being hurt by it. However, if you wanted to leave him, you had to tell him now. He would not go through another party without you.
He took your hand and put you aside. His heart was beating so fast, afraid of your response.
"Please tell me what's going on. Are you mad at me?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"I don't know, but you are not yourself. It's like you forgot that you love me."
"What are you talking about?"
"Do you want me to talk to other people because you want to meet new ones without me? You are not touching me, and don’t talk to me. Do you want to break up with me? You need to tell me now."
"Oooh."
You didn't imagine he would think that you didn't want him anymore. Now you didn't know how to tell the things.
"Please tell me what happened. What did I do? One minute, things are fine, and the next, you don't want to be with me. You can tell me anything. I won't be mad. I just need to know why."
You looked at your hands like if they were the most interesting things in the world. Steve urged you. He couldn’t leave without you and even less, let you leave without knowing what happened.
"Please, What did I do?"
You can't let him think that it's his fault when it's entirely yours. You never took his personal space into consideration. You knew that now.
"I didn't realised that I was selfish. You don't like to be touched."
Steve was surprised by your answer. He imagined all the answers except this one.
"What are you talking about? Where does it come from?"
"Hum, nowhere."
"Baby, what's going on?"
You lost it, frustrated that he didn't understand. You did that for him, not because you were happy about it.
"I am giving you the space that you need. I am too clingy. I am always in your arms and touching you, and nobody can talk to you without me being here. I thought this was what you wanted."
You didn't look at him. You were too ashamed to not have realised it by yourself.
Steve was baffled. He didn't know where you heard this, but he definitively didn't like it and was angry. You were his sweet and loving girlfriend, soon to be fiancée if you accepted his proposal on Christmas day, and you deserved to touch him as much as you wanted.
"Y/N, look at me."
You put your head up, tears filling your eyes. You hated to be this sensitive. He didn't deserve that. He took you in his arms, kissing your temple. He made sure that you were looking at him.
"Do you remember when we started to date?"
You didn't understand what it was coming from but nodded.
"You were always touching me. It was soft, subtle, and sometimes fast but always there. In the beginning, it was sometimes unsettling because I wasn't used to it. However, I never said anything because I realised that you did it without thinking. It's just who you are. It's natural. It's a second part of you, and with time, I realised that it actually made me feel better and that when I didn't have my daily dose, I was becoming irritated and angry."
He didn't stop to look at you, being sure that you looked back at him.
"I need this as much as you do. I am sure that the person who said that was just jealous to not be able to talk to you or I alone. A lot of women want to talk to me, and they don't like that I have only eyes for you."
He kissed you softly.
"I need you to keep them away from me because there is no way that I am going to lay eyes on someone else, not when I have you by my side."
"Steve..."
You loved him so much and wished that he was yours and only yours. However, you could see that the women in this soirée were each one more beautiful but especially more badass than you.
"Baby, I mean it. I only have eyes for you and your beautiful soul. Nobody can compare to you."
He kissed with again, but this time, like if his life depended on it. He hugged you, kissing your head before he took your hand, interlinking your fingers.
"We are going to show them who is the most clingy between you and I."
During the full evening, he kept you close to him, even closer than usual. Your back pressing against his chest while his arms circled you. There was no way that he was letting you go for a second, even accompanying you when you needed to go to the ladies room. He will not let some gossip make you think that he didn't need you as much as you needed him.
When he felt you tense in his arms, he searched for what made you feel that way. He saw two women. He recognised them. The brown one tried to talk to him several times at the last party, flirting with him.
He caressed your arm before turning you. He kissed you, putting you closer to him if it was even possible. His hands rammed your body, and you couldn't help a moan leave your lips. Steve and you always have been discreet about you relationship even if you were always touching each other, you never really kissed and even less touched each other like this in front of anybody. When he broke the kiss, he looked over your head, seeing that the two women weren’t here anymore.
"What happened to you punk? Not that I didn't enjoy the show."
Steve kept his eyes on you. He wanted you to feel all his love.
"I just needed to kiss my wife."
You froze for a second before moving from his body.
"Your what?"
Steve was like a deer caught in the lights. He looked at each member of the team that had been gathered around you for a moment. All of them, nodding. It wasn't how he wanted to ask you, but it was too late now. He couldn't ask you to wait. His eyes found yours.
"Y/N, it's not how I planned this. I know you don't like the attention, but I think it's too late to take a step back now. When I first met you, you were just this bubbly young woman who was helping the team and was giving compliments to everybody in the hope that it would brighten their day. When you accepted to go on a date with me, I couldn't contain my excitement and tonight even less. You are the purest woman I ever had the pleasure to meet. You are the kindest and most empathic of us all. When I am not with you, I am counting the minutes that separate us. I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to. My dear Y/N, will you marry me?"
Your eyes were feeling with tears. You wanted to be his wife so much that you couldn't believe it. He was such a perfect man. You jumped into his arms to kiss him. The entire team and the other guests applauded.
"I suppose it's a yes."
He let you put your feet on the ground.
"I am sorry, I don't have the ring, it's upstairs."
Bucky took a box from his jacket, giving it to his best friend. Steve looked at him, surprised but smiling. He could always count on him even without any knowing it.
"I could feel that you would blow it before Christmas. You almost did it like ten times."
Steve blushed. He was so impatient to propose to you even with what was happening. He opened the little box, revealing a small ring that looked like if it was from the 40s. You gasped, tears now dropping on your cheeks. It was the most beautiful ring you ever saw in your life. Steve knew that you were trying to make him feel welcome in this new millennium, but you never wanted him to feel out of his time and like if his life before didn't matter. You told him that you wished you could have met him when he was younger, before the serum.
"Steve, it's so beautiful."
He put the ring on your finger before kissing you. You weren't thinking about what happened a few moments ago or your insecurities. This man was about to be yours for the rest of your life.
@mochie85 ❤️
553 notes · View notes
frostironfudge · 1 year
Text
I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers
Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics
Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon
Main Masterlist || AO3
Tumblr media
Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there. 
Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features. 
Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family. 
A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other. 
Won together. 
Lost together. 
In the past few days died together. 
“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory. 
The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago. 
“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor. 
“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder. 
“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it. 
“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.” 
She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?” 
Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head. 
Wanda looks down at her hands. 
“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re  preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all. 
Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?” 
“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you. 
“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off. 
“I know, I did too.” 
“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone. 
Tumblr media
Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart. 
“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him. 
“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows. 
Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him. 
“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places. 
“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.” 
“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene. 
“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static. 
“Wh-what?” 
“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you. 
“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens. 
“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans. 
You stand there dumbfounded. 
As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.  
Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor. 
“I don’t care.” He says so easily.
You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you. 
Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body. 
Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you. 
Tumblr media
Eight months down the drain.
The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain. 
“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.” 
Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.” 
“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face. 
He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing. 
“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell. 
“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam. 
“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated 
that about the company’s past. 
The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you. 
“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away. 
You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems. 
Tumblr media
True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together. 
When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia. 
The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed. 
Opening it reveals a burner phone. 
“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle. 
“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it. 
“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him. 
Opening the text. 
SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain. 
You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol. 
“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair. 
“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?” 
“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink. 
The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync. 
“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun. 
“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.” 
“So confident.” You raise your brows. 
“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes. 
“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck. 
Tumblr media
Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face. 
“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes. 
“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again. 
You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you. 
“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own. 
“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.” 
You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late. 
Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel. 
“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.
Tumblr media
“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down. 
Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.” 
“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?” 
“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him. 
“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand. 
“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head. 
“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle. 
“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well. 
Both of you burst out laughing. 
“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter. 
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”
“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room. 
“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?” 
You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers. 
Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered. 
You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart. 
Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes. 
The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow. 
“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself. 
“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself. 
Tumblr media
Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him. 
A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level. 
Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights. 
Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him. 
You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him. 
The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them. 
Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried. 
After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab. 
“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn. 
“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”
“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup. 
“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own. 
“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more. 
You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him. 
“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD. 
“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him. 
“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts. 
“See we’ll be okay.” You declare. 
Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits. 
Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury. 
Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair. 
You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.
“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all. 
“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff. 
Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes. 
“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds. 
Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods. 
“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder. 
“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow. 
“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.” 
No one nods. 
Nick shakes his head leaving the room. 
“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder. 
“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further. 
“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh. 
“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan. 
Nat and Sam stare at you. 
“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched. 
Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze. 
Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust. 
Sam nods, “Well best we head back.” 
“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile. 
“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.” You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead. 
“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone. 
“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back. 
His mouth opens again to speak. 
Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?” 
“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out. 
Tumblr media
Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.
He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.
You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting. 
“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”
“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.
“Vision.” He acknowledges.
“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head. 
Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.
“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says
Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.
“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.
“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators. 
“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator. 
“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him. 
Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him. 
You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away. 
“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator. 
Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you. 
“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers. 
“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again. 
People trickle in and out. 
Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you. 
You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him. 
Finally it's just the two of you. 
The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender. 
“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched. 
“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker. 
“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him. 
“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes. 
There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”
“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge. 
“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him. 
“You lied?” You repeat. 
“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,” 
Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up. 
“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,” 
The doors open to your floor, you step out. 
“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!” 
“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door. 
“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading. 
He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over. 
Tumblr media
Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place. 
Mixed training was now mandatory. 
You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you. 
Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties. 
Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down. 
“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh. 
“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh. 
“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.” 
“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen. 
The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you. 
You grin at him. 
“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes. 
“Y/N.” 
Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there. 
You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench. 
Sam takes his arm away. 
You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem. 
“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news. 
“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.” 
You glare at him, “Alright.” 
An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough. 
“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout. 
You frown in recognition. 
“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him. 
“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead. 
“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans. 
Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands. 
Tumblr media
Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space. 
Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you. 
The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper. 
He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”
You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps. 
The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area. 
You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.” 
“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”
You give another once over and then follow him back down the path. 
Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward. 
Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him. 
Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate. 
Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck. 
Why can't you move away?
Why do you want more of him? 
Why do you miss him? 
He hurt you. 
He lied. 
He hurt you. 
You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway. 
It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way. 
You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall. 
Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!” 
You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you. 
A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing. 
Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous. 
The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.
“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps. 
“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort. 
“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across. 
Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew. 
He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you. 
“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it. 
“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him. 
Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,” 
“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place. 
Your palms cover his, you look up at him. 
You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him. 
Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view. 
“Poppet, something is wrong.” 
You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled? 
Why was he falling to his knees? 
You look behind him, people standing and watching. 
The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him. 
“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield. 
The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up. 
“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body. 
Tumblr media
Steve keeps his eyes closed. 
Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers. 
How long was he out?
Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath. 
He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them. 
Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration. 
“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.
“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm. 
Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher. 
“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend. 
Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.” 
A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own. 
Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city. 
Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside. 
“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair. 
Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you. 
“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...” 
He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors. 
You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core. 
“Steve—,” 
“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you. 
Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns. 
The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?” 
Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out. 
“I see and why is she yours?” 
He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.” 
“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.  
“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.
You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens. 
“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling. 
“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked. 
“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper. 
Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place. 
“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.” 
Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.
“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch. 
“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him. 
“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured. 
“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.” 
Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed. 
“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper. 
“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again. 
“You can’t have him at risk again!” 
“I won’t let you die!” 
“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you. 
Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”
“Save it.” 
“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts. 
“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,” 
“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.” 
“You are not dying.” Steve grits out. 
“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features. 
“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him. 
“He’s in the United Kingdom.” 
“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?” 
The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!” 
Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.
You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you. 
Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive. 
He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way. 
“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain. 
A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault. 
“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad. 
The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.” 
You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento. 
You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across. 
Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows. 
“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off. 
You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him. 
“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over. 
“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him. 
His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief. 
“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well. 
“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away. 
“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin. 
He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you. 
Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there. 
“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.
“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.
Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop. 
“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek. 
His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you. 
His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.
“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,” 
His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.
The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.
“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall. 
“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you. 
When your thighs clench around him,  Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos. 
Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before. 
“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.
“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.
You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.
Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched. 
Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.
The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.
He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him. 
“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy. 
The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,
“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.
It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders. 
Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture. 
Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.
Tumblr media
As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.
Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. 
As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly. 
You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.
Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet. 
The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that  he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.
You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek. 
Your eyes meet their old home of blue.
“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.
He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.
-x-x-x-x-
3K notes · View notes
ichorai · 4 months
Text
airbag ; steve rogers.
Tumblr media
track one of OK COMPUTER.
pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.
words ; 4.3k
themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?
warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)
main masterlist.
Tumblr media
Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there. 
It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.
Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too. 
Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old. 
It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight. 
Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”
And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.
Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.
During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.
Will you marry me?
And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.
To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay. 
“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.
You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.
Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.
The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.
Tumblr media
Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.
“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”
There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”
Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.” 
Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”
Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”
There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”
Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words. 
“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”
“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.
“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”
She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”
Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.
Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.
Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.
“I packed us sandwiches.”
“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car. 
“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”
Steve arched a brow. “Like?”
“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”
Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead. 
The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got. 
The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.
And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again. 
Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward. 
Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills. 
He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”
When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”
Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs. 
The proposal would have to wait another day, then.
He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”
“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.
He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.
Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.
“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”
“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”
You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next. 
“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.
“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”
Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”
Tumblr media
The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often. 
Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.
It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.
He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.
And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you. 
To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut. 
With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead. 
The proposal would have to wait another day.
Tumblr media
Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come. 
And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.
“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.
When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.
The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.
You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…
And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight. 
A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view. 
“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?
“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.
A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.
“Did Natasha tell you?”
Tony snorted. “We all know.”
“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”
“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”
Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question. 
Or was it? 
“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”
With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”
Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests. 
Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.
“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”
And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again. 
Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?
He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.
His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music. 
Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy. 
“Sandy?” 
“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”
“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”
“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?” 
With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.
“Honey, I gotta go.” 
Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”
“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”
Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”
It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip. 
Tumblr media
The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.
A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve. 
He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric. 
But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.
Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.
“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything. 
“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”
Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”
His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.
“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”
Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”
You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut. 
“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.
“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.
“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”
Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.
Should he? Now, when he had the chance?
“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on. 
Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.
“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”
Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.
“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.
Tumblr media
A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears. 
Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.
“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”
Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother. 
A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief. 
“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone. 
“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”
Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”
Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”
The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.
“You ready for lunch?”
“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”
Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—
But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.
“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head. 
Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”
Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.
And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”
There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it. 
The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe. 
“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.
You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”
“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.
When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.
520 notes · View notes
myfictionaldreams · 4 months
Text
Duke, Duchess and Knights // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader
Summary: You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.
Requested by: @proseraphine - im sorry it's not exactly what you requested but I hope you like it regardless!
Tags: polyamory, angst, fluff, nightmares, panick attack, crying, mentions of murder, fantasy au, comfort
Words: 2.1 k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
Tumblr media
There’s a mixture of muffled, panicked voices as you drift between sleep and reality.
“Doll, wake up! You’re just dreaming; listen to me, you need to wake up!”. The voice shouting for you to wake up sounded recognisable, but something more high-pitched was covering the sound of the voice you wanted to drift further towards. Someone was screaming, terrifyingly loud and shrill, and it took a couple of breaths to realise that it was you who sounded so frightened and fearful.
Upon this realisation, the unconscious world you’d been trapped in disappeared as you came back to full consciousness, attempting to sit bolt upright but found that you were being held up already. With the seconds it took for your eyes to dart around at your surroundings, you became aware of a few things.
One that Bucky was currently sitting in the middle of the bed with you between his legs, your head resting back against his shoulders and back against his chest as he wrapped his strong arms around your body to keep you in position. Two, that Steve was kneeling in front of you, his eyes so fearfully large and face drained of any colour as he reached to cup your face.
Everything felt incredibly disorienting; the room was spinning, and dark patches were edging around your eyesight. Not only that, but you were in uncomfortable pain, specifically in the centre of your chest and throat, presumably from the screaming you’d been doing for god-knows how long. There also seemed to be an unsettling amount of fluids coating your face and body, and only then did you realise that you were also crying hysterically.
“Baby, look at me. I need you to listen to me and take a deep breath, " Steve instructs, panic coating every word he speaks, only adding to your fear that something is incredibly wrong.
You try, though. Try to open your mouth to take a breath, but it felt like someone was wrapping their hands around your lungs so that you couldn’t draw a breath. The lack of air added to your disorientation and dizziness, feeling like you were trapped in your own body.
The hands around your face tightened to bring your attention back to Steve as he rolled his shoulders and attempted to relax his facial features to look as calm as possible. “Keep looking at me, Sweetheart. Now, I want you to try again and take a deep breath, slowly, like this” he then proceeds to take a deep, slow breath through his nose and out of his mouth.
You try and copy but still find it a struggle to open your lungs as your body seems to be still trapped within the state of fear caused by your nightmare. A chaste kiss to the side of your head captures your attention as a different voice begins to talk from behind, “It’s okay. I’ve got you, Mama. Breath in nice and slow and out through your mouth”, Bucky repeats Steve instructions as he continued to hold you. Only then did you realise that he was forcing his chest to move up and down to mimic the slow breathing, giving you something to ground yourself to and copy the movements yourself.
The next breath that you take is shaky but enough to fill your lungs that you can release a desperate sob.
“That’s good, really good. But I need you to do it a few more times for me. That’s it, breathe in again and out slowly, " Steve instructs, giving you a soft smile that would have melted your heart in any other circumstance.
Each breath had the tightness easing in your chest as you began to relax into Bucky’s hold until you could breathe without the fear of becoming trapped by a panic attack. However, as your breathing eased, this gave you the energy to pathetically sob and weep, reaching to grip both Steve and Bucky’s arms, needing to feel their warmth and touch.
“Shhh, it’s ok, we’re here. We aren’t going anywhere. You’re safe, Baby girl”, Steve spoke delicately, his voice audible over a whisper as he made you feel safe in the room with him and Bucky.
“I- I- Thought- It felt so real-” you choke on the words tumbling out. Everything was so intense and overwhelming that even though you knew you weren’t in any danger, the hysterics continued. Bucky rocked his body gently to try to calm you down as Steve’s thumbs attempted to catch the endless flow of tears, but eventually, his hands were soaked, and he used the corner of the blanket on the bed to dry your face.
“Try to relax for us. Whatever you dreamt about wasn’t real; none of it was true. You’re safe with me and Steve, and you always will be”, Bucky reassures as he pulls your body closer to his so you are in a tight cocoon of his arms around your waist.
Steve inches forward as well, pressing his bare chest against your face and arms around the back of Bucky’s so that you are in a boyfriend's sandwich. The warmth surrounded every part of you, like they were human radiators, calming you down to the centre of your being. The hysterical sobs quieted enough that you were now only sniffling with hiccups, attempting to manage your emotions adequately to lean into them further.
Your eyes were sore and slightly swollen, and your throat was burning from the screaming and crying. It had been such a long time since a nightmare had rocked you to the very core like this; however, usually, it was due to something from your past, not the fantasy journey your unconscious mind seemed to take you to.
“It’s so stupid”, you admit after a couple of silent minutes, nuzzling your aching face into the shoulder of Steve, savouring further his warmth and muscles that flexed at the action.
Steve leans back slightly but only to kiss your temple carefully, “What’s stupid?” he asks.
“My dream or, I guess, my nightmare. Whatever it was, it was so stupid to overreact the way I have, but it just felt so real”.
Bucky shifted the arms around your waist so his metal fingers interlocked with your smaller hand, cradling it and drawing circles in your palm with his thumb. “Doll, whatever your nightmare was about, it’s not stupid, especially to have frightened you this much. You know we’ll always be here for you, whether you want to tell us what happened or not. But, from my personal experiences with nightmares, it might feel better to talk to someone”.
You sigh, knowing he was right and you’d had to do this exact sort of care with him on multiple occasions when he had nightmares from his past as an assassin. Taking a steading breath and letting the air out slowly through your mouth, you tilted your upper body to look up and between your two boyfriends to begin explaining your dream.
“You both…died. I mean- we all died in the nightmare, but I had to watch you both die first” As you remembered the horror of seeing the light leave Steve and Bucky’s eyes, a tear escaped yours, landing on Bucky’s arm. “I only woke up from the nightmare because I died in the dream and could hear you both shouting. I thought it was some sort of weird afterlife that I’d fallen into”.
Steve dips his face lower to meet yours, his nose nudging the very tip of yours, drawing a smile to your lips at the soft touch. “That’s not stupid at all. It was all just a dream; we’re very much still alive. Don’t worry about that, Sweetheart”.
Sighing, you close your eyes for a moment, not because of the sadness quickly easing away from your tense limbs but because you remembered the rest of your dream. Each of your cheeks warmed in embarrassment as you avoided looking either of them in the eye. “It’s not the death that was the stupid part; it was just the part that scared me the most. I was quite enjoying the rest of the dream before all of the death, but you’re going to think it’s silly2.
Steve and Bucky share a confused look between themselves. “Anything you tell us won’t be silly or stupid. You’ve seen what Stevie here draws in his spare time.  Can’t be more silly than monkeys riding on unicycles.” Bucky tries to cheer you up, and it works as you giggle against his chest as Steve gives his boyfriend a deadpan head tilt.
As you look between the blonde and brunette Mafia men, you already know you will regret telling them. “Promise me that you won’t laugh at me”.
“Baby, there’s no way I’m laughing at anything you say, especially after just watching you nearly have a panic attack”, Steve concludes as Bucky nods with his words.
Trying to breathe away the tension in your body, you begin to tell them the intricate details of your dream that consequently shifted to your worst nightmare. It was a land you’d never heard of before, thick with orange-shaded trees as Autumn drew in. You were in a ridiculously lavish dress. Steve sat beside you in his golden attire as the carriage rocked with the uneven path.
You were the Duchess of the land whilst Steve was the Duke. The two of you were targets for many dark forces, which was where Bucky came into the dream, saving you both on your travels as attackers went for the carriage. Thankfully, Bucky, a local knight, had saved the two of you, and eventually, as the dream spilt through snippets of a relationship, the duo became a trio. It was all whimsical and light-hearted as it seemed to parallel your life with both of them, but it was in this fantasy universe.
The dream, however, started to darken into a nightmare as the three of you were captured by the forces who had been seeking to find you and Steve. “I don’t know, it was like some sort of fantasy novel in my head, and it was all so peaceful, but then everything changed so quickly. I had to watch you both be killed by Bucky’s own sword, which then was shoved into my chest just before I woke up”.
As you recalled their fictional deaths, you visibly shook as fear began to spark through your body once more. Steve moved first, kissing your cheek a few times to help keep that anxiety away, “Well, it was all just a dream, nothing to be frightened of, Sweetheart. And that wasn’t stupid or stilly, was it, Bucky?” Steve asks his boyfriend with a glare.
You look up, confused by the negative look from Steve, only to find Bucky holding in a laugh as he nods but then cracks, releasing a light-hearted laugh. You release the hold on his hand but only so you can swat at his shoulder, even more embarrassed than before as you look towards the wall, away from them both.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, it’s just - what kind of an idiot gets killed by his own sword?” Bucky asks, laughing and causing you to sway on the bed as his chest vibrates with his chuckles.
Despite the embarrassment, you couldn’t help the smile teasing your lips, “You told me you wouldn’t laugh!”
“I’m sorry; I promise I’ll stop laughing; just give me time to process this all”. Taking a deep breath, Bucky attempts to compose himself, but as soon as you both catch eye contact again, the three of you laugh at the entire situation.
“At least we know Bucky’s a dumbass in this world and your dreams”, Steve casually mentions as he kisses beneath your jaw.
“Hey! At least I had a sword; your lazy ass still needed saving, even in her dreams. What does that say about you?” Bucky counters, making you laugh even harder and cling to both men.
“For two of the most powerful people in Brooklyn, you really are just a couple of goofballs”, you say whilst lovingly cupping both of their faces, kissing each of them in turn. “Thank you for helping me through my panic attack”.
“You’re most welcome, your royal duchess. Your noble knight will always be here to protect you”, Bucky joked in an emphasised lower tone that only caused you to laugh harder.
Steve rolls his eyes, but you can see his attempts at trying to hide his smile as he looks between Bucky and you. “I do think we need to stop watching Game of Thrones before bed”.
649 notes · View notes
holylulusworld · 5 months
Text
Unwanted mate (Steve's version) - Angstober 29
Tumblr media
Summary: Rejected. Humiliated. Left outside alone.
Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!(fem) Reader
Warnings: angst, a/b/o, rejection, unrequited feelings, public nudity (non-sexual), shitty father, scenting, implied kidnapping (maybe?)
A/N: This is Steve’s version of this story Unwanted Mate (Bucky’s version)
Square filled for @steverogersbingo: D4: Maria Hill
Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023
Tumblr media
In your world omegas are rare, sacred even.
This doesn’t mean every omega gets treated the way they deserve.
The time has come. The alpha of your pack has chosen your mate for you. He holds your elbow in a tight grip as he guides you along the endless hallways of the sanctuary. 
Your heart thunders in your chest, and you silently pray this is not a dream. Alpha Prime chose the most desired alpha for you. The alpha of a befriended pack.
Steven Grant Rogers. He’s as tall and handsome as his name sounds on your tongue, and you hope he’ll be happy with your leader’s choice.
“I want you to be on your best behavior,” Alpha Prime whispers. “I know you are going to be a good omega for Rogers, but…he’s picky. Don’t anger him. He rejected a mate once. A bond with one of our omegas means a strong bond with his pack.”
“Yes, alpha prime,” you reply. “I know my place and will happily take my place next to the alpha you chose for me.”
You hide that Steve Rogers is the star of your restless nights. The first time you got a whiff of his scent you knew, he was your true mate. The blonde ignored your presence during get-togethers most of the time, but you are sure, he only tried to follow the strict rules of your pack.
No courting an omega if she’s not chosen. No contact with an unmated omega without the leader of her pack. 
Walking next to the leader of your pack you try to remain calm, and not slick for the alpha he chose for you. Only the thought of being close to the alpha, and that he’ll touch you in front of your packs leaves you breathless.
“He will love you, my dear. You’re exactly what he wanted,” your leader says. “Sweet, smart, and…innocent.” Alpha Prime sounds a little less confident when you step toward Steve Rogers.
The alpha stands in the middle of the sanctuary, surrounded by the alphas of your pack and his. He dips his head to watch your leader and you get closer.
“Alpha prime of Moonstone,” Steve politely acknowledges your leader’s presence. “I see, you came with a gift.” He bows for you, and it makes your heart flutter wildly. “What can you tell me about her?”
“Alpha prime of Howling commando,” your leader reflects the respectful gesture. “This is Y/N Y/L/N. I chose her for you, Rogers of the howling commando.”
“I will consider your offering, Fury of Moonstone,” the alpha says. He holds out his hand for you. “Come here. Let our packs see you.” 
You place your trembling hand into his large palm and allow Steve to lead you toward the middle of the sanctuary. “Don’t be afraid, doll. No one will hurt you here. You are among friends and allies.”
His voice is soft, but his eyes darken as you tremble in front of him. Steve shoves the thin robe you’re wearing down your shoulders, exposing your body to him and the packs.
“Omega,” Steve addresses you with your presentation. “Present for me.”
You immediately tilt your head to expose your untouched mating gland. Steve wraps his hand around your neck to run his thumb over your mating gland. 
“Untouched in any way,” the leader of your pack casually says. It’s crude to talk about you like this, but in this world, it’s a normal procedure. He doesn’t mean to degrade or embarrass you. “She’s only yours.”
Steve hums, and drops his hand to your chest, warm hand running over one of your breasts. “So responsive,” he purrs feeling your nipple hardening under his touch. 
The alpha leans closer to sniff at your neck, inhaling deeply. You only hope he can’t smell your arousal because you don’t want to be a needy omega close to this powerful alpha. “She smells pleasant but—”
Your breath catches in your throat as he steps away. Steve looks at you for a moment, considering his decision before he picks your robe up to throw it at you. 
“She’s not the one I want,” the finalty in his voice makes every alpha in the room gasp. “I cannot mate her.”
The leader of your pack wraps you in his coat. He shakes his head at Steve as the alpha steps away, not sparing you another glance.
“You reject this perfect omega?” Your leader asks, stepping in front of you to protect you. The alphas of your pack follow his lead. They crowd you to make sure none of the foreign alphas tries to take advantage of your vulnerable state.
“I cannot mate her.”
Something inside of you breaks at his words. You don’t know what it is, but it causes physical pain. Breathing gets harder and you clutch your hands to your chest.
Moments ago, the alpha touched you gently, even called your scent pleasant only to reject you in front of all the alphas you know, and respect.
“So be it,” Fury booms. He turns his back on Steve, a sign of disrespect. “My dear, go with Maria. She will help you.” He softly speaks to you, nodding at his right-hand woman, and one of the rare female alphas in your pack. “Maria, make sure she’s comfortable after this disrespectful treatment.”
“I chose not to mate that omega,” Steve argues. “I have the right to reject her.”
“You rejected every omega so far,” Fury turns back around to glare at Steve with his good. “No one ever disrespected a member of my pack the way you did today. There will be no bond between our packs. Not now. Not ever.”
Fury’s words are final. He doesn’t listen when Bucky, Steve’s right-hand man and second in commando tries to reason with his leader. The leader of your pack walks away, and his pack follows him. 
Tumblr media
“And some of the scent killer please,” your voice is barely above a whisper today. After Steve rejected you in front of your pack, it’s hard for you to feel like yourself. Your bubbly personality got swallowed by the dark pit in your chest that Steve left of your heart.
“Which one?” The clerk politely asks. “Miss?”
“I’m not sure.” Unsure which scent killer you should buy you helplessly glance at the clerk. “Can you recommend one? I must hide my scent and never did this before.”
“No problem, miss. That’s my job. We will find the right scent killer for you.”
Tumblr media
“She’s hiding in her room all day, alpha prime. All day she’s weeping and whimpering. We thought after you chose her to become Steve Rogers’ mate that she’d leave her home. What shall we do now? A rejected omega is worthless to her family.”
“You should not talk like that about your daughter,” Fury’s jaw ticks as he stares at your father. “Y/N did nothing wrong. She got wronged by Steve Rogers. I was sure she was the mate he wanted and then he rejected her without a reason. This is on me, not her.”
“Alpha prime,” your father gasps. “Don’t defend my unworthy daughter. Something must be wrong with her. She always had her head in the clouds, and her nose in a book. No wonder the alpha rejected her. Maybe we should send her to a convent.”
“What are you saying? This is insanity!”
“No alpha will claim her now, alpha prime. Another prime rejected her. There is no hope. She’s a liability, nothing else.”
“I’m responsible for her downfall, I’ll take the blame,” Fury raises to his full height. He uses his alpha voice to make your father pliant. “If you want to send her off, I’ll take her in. She will not be punished for my mistake.”
Tumblr media
His scent hits you out of nowhere. For weeks you didn’t leave the house only to scent the alpha rejecting you close by the moment you left the safety of your sanctuary at Fury’s house.
“No,” you whisper and drop your gaze. “He can’t be here. I must—” You walk in the opposite direction to get away from his scent. 
It must be a cosmic joke that you run into the alpha breaking you down to nothing after you managed to leave your bed for the first time in days.
“I knew it was you. Wait,” his voice makes you stop in your tracks. You want to fight your instinct, but his alpha command forces you to wait for him. “I scented you from across the street.”
Steve steps behind you to bury his face in your neck. “I need to go.” You weakly reply. “Let me go.”
“I scented you, and knew it was you,” he repeats while sniffing along your neck. “Fury took you away that day and didn’t let me explain things. I couldn’t mate you because of an old bond I had to break first.”
“I don’t understand…” you sniffle silently. “Please let me go.”
“My first omega, I lost her years ago. When we were both still so young. Barely grown pups. I wanted to be sure that I could move on and visit her grave. But the leader of your pack insisted on meeting you too soon. I wasn’t…ready,” he breathes in your neck. “I had to say goodbye to Peggy first.”
“It’s been months,” you argue. “You should find a new omega then. Maybe one suiting your taste and fulfilling your every wish.”
“I talked to your pack leader a month ago. He refused to let me court you,” Steve nuzzles you. “He said, I need to earn the right to court you, and that he won’t force you to become my mate.”
“I cannot become your mate. You rejected me. Our rules say, you lost the right to mate me,” you sigh feeling his nose brush your mating gland. “I cannot become yours, and I don’t want to. Not anymore.”
Tumblr media
“I was a fool and tried to fight my instinct. I knew the moment you stood in front of me that I’d do anything for you, and I will,” he wraps his arms around your waistline. “I don’t give a shit about Fury’s rules. You’ll be mine…”
Part 2
Tags in reblog.
535 notes · View notes
oh-my-damn · 1 year
Text
Ethereal
Tumblr media
A/N: I couldn't stop thinking about living next to puppy Steve and not knowing he's cap. So here's a mini-series!
Series Masterlist
Part 2
Pairing: TWS!Steve Rogers x Neighbor!Reader
Summary: When you move into your new apartment the last thing you'd expected was the greek god living next door to you.
Warnings: Steve is a literal golden retriever, riding on a motorcycle, mutual pining (a lot), reader doesn't know Steve is Cap, alcohol consumption, being awkward, first date vibes, Steve is a cutie.
Word Count: 5300
The beautiful divider is by @firefly-graphics
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you found a cheap apartment in an old but well-kept building in Brooklyn Heights, you were relieved.
You'd been searching for a new place to live for a while, after you found out the building you'd been living in was going co-op.
You had no means to pay for that old apartment, and even if you did, you wouldn't have wanted to. It was run down, new problems seemingly appearing every day, and there was no way you would have tied yourself to that place for good.
So when you found your new apartment you were excited; the building was old, but clearly well taken care of, and it was in a safe neighborhood. You lived in Williamsburg before, so you had no problem with staying in Brooklyn. In fact, you preferred it.
It took you about an hour to get to university, but you didn't mind the travel time. You would always spend that time studying, catching up on whatever you were missing, or getting ahead of next weeks readings.
You'd also always loved riding on the train; it could be hot, and cramped, and uncomfortable, but it also provided you with a sort of peace. You enjoyed people watching, or gazing out the window with your headphones on. Riding on the train provided a forced tranquility, because you knew, no matter what, you had to spend an hour or so on there. And so it forced you to disconnect with the outside world and in turn, connect with yourself. Even if it was just for a little while.
The day you moved into your new apartment you remember a feeling of curiosity. You remember lugging your boxes up to the top floor and down the hall, unlocking your front door as your gaze moved to the door further down the hall.
Your neighbor lived at the end of the hallway, while you lived to the right. You didn't know anything about who occupied the space; the only thing you knew was that someone lived there, by the doormat placed on the floor.
The apartment didn't have a specific name attached to its mailbox, only initials, and that was both intriguing and unsettling.
S. G. R.
You've met many people in your life who value their privacy, but not even providing a name on their own mailbox seemed excessive to you. Your first thought was how much of a hassle it must be to have packages delivered - you know for a fact that your online shopping habit would severely suffer if your name wasn't properly visible on your mailbox.
You moved in with no issues, other than a bit of sweat and a few groans of exhaustion.
Within a month, you'd gotten used to living there; it was almost like you'd lived there your entire life. You'd always leave early in the morning to get to class, and you'd often arrive home after dinner time, choosing to stay on campus to study, or go out with your friends.
All in all, it was a normal apartment, and it allowed you to live a completely ordinary life.
Until that fateful day back in March.
Tumblr media
You arrive home earlier than usual. The entire day has been a disaster; first you missed your train, resulting in you being late for class, and then you spilled your coffee down the front of your shirt as you were walking across campus. When class was over, you'd talked yourself into staying and catch up on your reading, only to realize you'd forgotten the book for the course you needed to catch up on.
With a heavy sigh, and even heavier footsteps, you trudge up the stairs to your apartment. You're cursing yourself for forgetting your book, because you know that once you're inside, your urges will get the best of you, and you'll probably end up watching TV instead of catching up on your studies.
You release another heavy sigh when you reach your floor, turning the corner in the direction of your front door. Your eyes are locked on your feet as they carry you along, your bones tired and exhausted from this utter disappointment of a day.
But then your ears perk up when you hear the familiar sound of a key sliding into a lock.
Your eyes flit up to look ahead of you, breath almost hitching when they land on a tall blonde man, his broad back hunched over slightly as he unlocks his door.
Your feet still, making you stop just a few steps from your front door. The change in movement makes the stranger ahead of you glance over his shoulder, his brows furrowing for a moment before he turns around to face you.
"Hi," he says, grazing you with a dazzling smile, "You must be my new neighbor."
His voice is deep yet gentle, matching the hypnotizing features on his face. A strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones, matched with a pair of bright blue eyes and pink, plump lips.
He's fucking ethereal.
You can practically feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as you take in his full form, eyes gazing over his 6'2 frame. Broad shoulders to match his back, curving into a narrow waist, and legs that go on for days. His short, blonde hair is a little mussed up, his eyebrows raised in a question.
He's wearing a navy blue jacket, which matches his jeans, and a white t-shirt underneath. Entirely ordinary yet painfully breathtaking.
You're not sure you've ever seen a specimen quite like him.
When he tilts his head ever so slightly, you snap out of the daze he brought you in.
"Yeah, uh, hi. I guess I am. I just moved in."
You gesture towards your front door, and the stranger nods in acknowledgement.
"I heard some ruckus," he chuckles, bright white teeth practically blinding you, "I'm sorry I didn't come around to introduce myself earlier, I've been a little preoccupied with work."
You wave a dismissive hand as you smile, "Oh, no worries. I know how it is. But I'm glad we finally met, I was starting to wonder who lived next door."
"Yeah?" He asks with a grin, "Why?"
"Because I've never seen anyone," you chuckle, "I was starting to suspect it was an investment property or something. Figured no one lived there."
The stranger laughs, the sound a bubbling melodic tune that makes your heart beat excitedly. It's a beautiful, genuine sound, that makes you feel special in a way you can't quite explain.
"Oh, I live here, don't you worry," he replies, his smile turning softer, "I've been away for a little while, but I'm back now. I did hear you move in, though, but I had to leave for work early the next day, so I didn't have time to come by and welcome you to the building."
You nod, "Okay, I see. What do you do for work?"
His brows furrow momentarily before he shrugs, "You know, I work jobs here and there. I travel a lot, though."
"You're an easy neighbor to have, then," you joke, tilting your head, "I guess I won't have to worry about you making a noise complaint."
He laughs again, the sound is practically addicting to your ears, "No, you won't have to worry about that, I promise. I usually keep to myself."
You nod and hum, holding eye contact for a moment longer before your eyes dart to your front door, "Good to know.. Well, it was really nice to meet you, uhh..?"
He smiles, hesitating for a moment before he says, "Steve. Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you too."
Tumblr media
Two days later, you're out for drinks with your friends, excitedly telling them about the greek god living next door to you.
"I swear to god, he's fucking ethereal. Like, insane. I can't even explain it."
You take another large sip of your drink as your friends giggle.
"You have to show me a picture!" Janine says excitedly, eyes wide as she looks at you, "Come on, show us his social media!"
"That's the thing!" You exclaim, placing your drink perhaps a bit too harshly back on the table, "I tried to look him up but I couldn't find any social media accounts for him. It was so frustrating because apparently he shares a name with one of those Avenger guys, so it was practically impossible."
You take another eager sip as your friend, Melanie, narrows her eyes at you, "What do you mean he shares a name with one of the Avengers? Who?"
You wave your hand dismissively, "I don't fucking know those guys, you know that, but when I googled his name all of these articles for those guys showed up so I couldn't find anything on him. I didn't feel like sifting through all of that."
Your friends share a knowing look before Melanie leans closer to you on the table, "What did you say his name was?"
"Steve," you chirp, sipping your drink through the straw happily, "Steve Rogers."
Your friends share another look, although this one seems more shocked than before, making you look between the two of them.
"What?" You ask, watching their expressions, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing!" Janine immediately interjects, glancing quickly at Melanie before she looks back at you, "It's nothing. But that sucks, you gotta take a sneaky picture next time you're able to."
You snort, "Okay, I'll try, but I haven't seen him since we met the other day. He gets really busy with work, apparently."
"I'm sure he does..." Melanie replies, taking another sip of her drink.
Tumblr media
After one too many cocktails, you called an uber to get back home. You're trying to stay focused as you walk up the stairs to your apartment, swaying ever so slightly with every step.
"Almost there," you mumble as you reach the final step, "God I'm tired.."
You round the corner and head towards your door, pulling your keys out of your bag.
Right as you find the right one, and struggle to slide it into the lock, your neighbors' door opens.
"Hey," a deep voice says, making you glance in its direction, "You okay?"
Your eyes find a pair of beautiful cerulean ones, your cheeks growing warm at his presence.
"Yeah," you drunkenly giggle, moving your attention back to your key as you try to slide it into the lock, "I'm fine, just need to figure out how to unlock the door.."
You hear a quiet chuckle and then approaching footsteps before Steve is standing right beside you, a large hand reaching out to cover your own.
"Here, let me help you."
He easily unlocks your door, handing the keys back to you with a smile.
"Thank you," you hiccup, smiling goofily up at him, "You didn't have to, I could have figured it out myself.. Eventually.."
"Yeah," he chuckles, smiling down at you, "But then you'd probably have spent half your night out here."
You giggle again, shaking your head, "Noooo, I would have figured it out."
"Mhmm," Steve hums, placing a strong hand on the small of your back when you stumble where you stand, "Sure. You need help getting inside?"
"No no," you immediately respond, frowning up at him seriously, "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."
"Okay, big girl," Steve chuckles as you step over the threshold, "Just make sure to drink some water, okay? And maybe some painkillers, too."
"Will do," you grin, gripping the door handle to keep you steady, "Thank you, Steve."
"Anytime."
Tumblr media
3 days later you're walking home from school when you notice a motorcycle parked in front of your building. You look it over for a minute, impressed by how well kept it is despite it being an older model. You don't know a lot about motorcycles, but you know enough to realize it's a Harley-Davidson and that the design is a classic.
Your dad taught you what little knowledge you possess on motorcycles since he owned a Harley himself back when you were a kid.
You hesitantly let your fingers graze over the cushioned leather seat, the material soft against your fingertips.
"This is nice," you mumble to yourself absentmindedly, brows furrowing momentarily. It's clean, practically shiny, which makes you wonder where it's usually parked. Whoever owns it must have a covered parking space for it.
Just as your fingers lift from the leather cushion, the building door opens. Your eyes flit up to the figure walking down the steps to your building, heading in your direction, and you feel a flurry of butterflies when you recognize the man approaching you.
He's wearing a brown leather jacket this time, with a grey t-shirt underneath, a pair of blue jeans to finish off the look.
You can practically see the outline of his undoubtedly defined abs through the tight t-shirt and the thought alone makes your cheeks heat up.
"Hi Steve," you say with a smile as he walks in your direction.
His face splits into a wide smile, shoving his hands into his pockets once he descends the steps and walks over to where you're standing by the bike, "Hey neighbor. Nice to see you again. How's your head?"
Haven't had any complaints so far...
You chuckle, resisting the urge to make the dirty joke that popped into your mind, a small shake of your head as you speak, "That was 3 days ago. Hangover is long gone. But thank you for helping me inside, that was nice of you."
"Of course," he beams, a bashful shrug of his shoulders, "It was nothing. What else are neighbors for, right?"
"Right," you nod, smiling shyly when your eyes flit down to the motorcycle in an effort to hide your flushing cheeks.
"You like it?" Steve asks when he notices your gaze trailing over the bike, "Just pulled it out of storage today. Figured it was time to take it for a ride, now that the weather is getting warmer."
Your eyes dart up to meet his, brows raised in surprise, "This is yours?"
"Yeah," Steve replies, patting the leather seat as if it was a horse, "I used to have a different one but I like this newer model, too. Drives like a dream."
"Of course it does," you snort, fingers lightly touching the sleek silver on the side, "It's a Soft Slim, they're spectacular. Harley does good work in general, but they certainly stepped their game up with this model."
Steve quirks a brow at you, his eyes slowly moving over your face as you continue looking at his bike, "You know motorcycles?"
You shrug, "A little bit. My dad is a Harley-Davidson enthusiast, so I know some. Not a lot, though. But I know this model. She's a beaut."
"Yeah, she is," Steve chuckles, his head tilting slightly as he looks at you, "I was just about to go for a ride. Care to join me?"
Tumblr media
The brisk spring air breezing through your hair send shivers down your spine as you race down the almost deserted highway. Steve takes an exit, heading towards New Jersey, and you cling to him as your arms are wrapped around his waist.
He's in complete control of the bike in a way that seems almost effortless; it moves with him in every turn, and even at high speeds, you sense no hesitation in him.
It almost feels like flying.
Your arms tighten their hold a little more when the cold air nips at the bare skin on your neck, instinctively burrowing your face into his back.
He tilts his head slightly, and lifts his shoulder, seemingly inviting you to tuck your face into the crook of his neck.
You only hesitate for a moment before you bury your face in his neck, pressing your chest to his back, his warm skin heating you up almost instantly. He tilts his head more to give you proper space, leaning his back into your chest.
Your arms tighten in response, a small smile grazing your lips as you breathe in deeply. His clean and fresh scent envelopes you, making the shivers running down your back happen for a very different reason than before.
Your thighs tighten where they are on the outer side of his, holding onto him more firmly, and by all accounts, it appears he's enjoying it.
He speeds up experimentally, making you let out a small squeak before you hold onto him even tighter, and you swear you hear the melodic sound of his laugh before it's swallowed up by the wind.
Tumblr media
Eventually Steve brings you back home, the city of Brooklyn enveloped in darkness, the lampposts on the side of the road the only thing lighting your way.
He drives into a spot in front of the building and you reluctantly unwrap your arms from his waist, sliding off the bike.
He parks the bike and gets off, standing in front of you with a soft smile on his lips. His cheeks are the faintest shade of pink, probably from the cold, and his hair is mussed up in a cute way that makes you yearn to run your fingers through it.
You smile up at him, another small shiver running down your spine, and Steve immediately notices. He shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders, "I'm sorry, I should have figured you'd get cold. I hope it wasn't too bad?"
He has no idea you've been shivering this entire time, or that your shivers are triggered by something other than the cold.
"It's okay," you respond with a warm smile, "I wasn't cold while you were driving, you're surprisingly hot."
Steve's lips lift into a goofy grin, making you immediately backtrack, "Oh my god, uh, I mean warm. You're surprisingly warm."
"I got it, don't worry," he chuckles, placing a protective hand on the small of your back before he starts guiding you in the direction of your building, "Let me walk you up."
You chuckle, walking beside him up the steps, "I don't think it counts as walking me up when you're going the same direction yourself."
He snorts and shakes his head, "Probably not. But I would have done it if I didn't live here, too."
"Such a gentleman," you muse, your fingers gripping the hem of his jacket. It smells like him, that clean, fresh scent, and you'd want to drown in that smell if you could.
"I try," he jokes, grinning at you quickly.
You reach your apartment door, and once you're standing in front of it, you slide his jacket off your shoulders, "Thank you for lending this to me. That was nice."
"Even if it was short lived," Steve responds as he takes his jacket from you, "I'm sorry I didn't give it to you before we left on the drive."
"Steve, don't worry about it," you reply earnestly, "I promise, I wasn't cold. Not until I had to unwrap myself from you, at least."
Steve's eyes lock on yours, a tension filling the small space between the two of you as you look up at him. His smile is soft, gentle, a quiet hum leaving his lips as he nods.
"I'm sorry you had to do that, then."
"It's alright," you grin teasingly, "Maybe I'll get to do it again some time."
"I would love that," Steve immediately responds, a wide smile breaking out on his lips, "For there to be a next time, I mean. Doesn't have to be a drive, either."
"No?" You tease, your head tilting as your eyes stay locked on his, "What did you have in mind?"
"A cup of coffee?" He asks, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit hallway.
"I like coffee," you smile, nodding, "I'd love to."
"It's a date," he firmly replies, his fingers fiddling with the keys in his hand, "Maybe in the next few days?"
"Sure!" You beam up at him, immediately reaching into your bag, "Let me give you my number, that might make it easier to plan."
"Oh, uh, yeah, okay," Steve responds, hands clasping over his pockets almost as if he's unsure where his phone is.
When he brings out a flip phone, you snort. "That's your phone?"
Steve's cheeks tinge pink, this time certainly not from the cold, a small nod of his head, "Yeah, I uh.. I'm not really good with technology. Needed something easy."
You chuckle, "Okay, fair enough."
You take his phone, putting your number in and sending yourself a text. "There. Now we have each others numbers. Just text me when you have time to grab that cup of coffee."
"Will do," Steve responds, lingering for a moment as he stands in front of you.
When he suddenly leans down and places a quick kiss on your cheek, your breath hitches, and you fight the urge to pull him closer.
"I had a great time," he says as he takes a few steps backwards, in the direction of his apartment, "Have a good night."
"Goodnight, Steve."
Tumblr media
A few days pass without you running into Steve in the hallway again. It's also been very quiet, you haven't heard a peep from your neighbor, which is surprising because the walls aren't that thick. You can always hear your downstairs neighbor, especially if they're listening to music or have people over, so you're surprised you never hear anything from Steve.
No movement, no accidental run ins, no noises. Nothing. Only silence.
It makes you wonder if he's even home.
A week after your bike ride, you finally hear from him.
You're sitting on your couch, watching one of your favorite shows on TV while binging a tub of ice cream. It's Saturday night, and you weren't in the mood to go out even though your friends tried to convince you. It'd been a long week at university and the only thing you were in the mood for this weekend was to stay at home in your sweats and watch silly sitcoms to get your mind to relax.
You phone chimes just after 8pm, alerting you to a text message.
You pick up your phone while licking your spoonful of ice cream clean, your eyes flicking from the TV to your phone screen. Your brows raise in surprise when you see who it's from, a snort leaving your lips.
Steve Rogers: How's your Saturday night?
You: Oh hello there, stranger. I was starting to think perhaps you'd moved
Steve Rogers: I'm sorry, I had a work emergency I had to take care of. I've been gone for the past few days, just got back. How has your week been?
Your brows furrow at his response. What does this guy do for work?
The last time you asked, his response was pretty vague, but he obviously does something that's important enough for him to leave without notice. Often.
You: It's been alright, nothing exciting to report. Mainly just studying and classes. How's yours been?
Steve Rogers: A little rough. Had to deal with a tough project at work, but it's over now, luckily. At home licking my wounds now
You: Wounds? Literal or metaphorical?
Steve Rogers: Little of both
You blink in surprise, putting down your ice cream to be able to text quicker.
You: What? Are you hurt?
Steve Rogers: I'll be okay, I'm just tired. I'm sorry I didn't follow up on our coffee date, though. I hope you didn't lose faith in me
You: Was just about to, but then you texted, so I'll give you another chance
Steve Rogers: Yeah? When do you have time?
Steve Rogers: Are you busy right now?
Your brows raise in surprise at the double text as well as the question.
You: It's a little late for coffee, don't you think?
Steve Rogers: How about tea, then?
Tumblr media
You manage to tidy yourself up a little bit, tossing on a tank-top instead of the oversized shirt you were wearing when there's a knock on your door.
You're still in your sweats from earlier, but you don't really mind that; he messaged you with very short notice, so he couldn't exactly be expecting you to look all dressed up.
You unlock your door before opening it, grinning up at Steve when he comes into view, "Hey there."
"Hi," Steve smiles, his hands shoved into his pockets, "Nice to see you again."
You let your eyes trail over his form; he's in a white t-shirt, one that's tight and allows you to see the firm outline of his torso (you suspect tight t-shirts are his signature, by now), and you apparently guessed right on keeping your sweats on, because he's in a pair of his own. A grey pair, to be exact.
Your eyes move up to take in the features of his face, lingering on his beautiful, baby blue eyes and pink plump lips. But then your brows instantly furrow when you notice the small mark on his cheekbone.
"Oh," you breathe out, instinctively stepping closer, and before you can even stop yourself, you reach up, letting your fingers gently touch the skin right below the mark, "Are you okay?"
You can tell Steve tenses at your touch, making you immediately remove your hand before you step back again, mumbling, "Uh, sorry, I shouldn't-"
"No, it's alright," Steve interrupts, putting up a hand to stop you, "Don't worry, I was just caught off guard. It hurts a little, but it'll go away soon. Promise."
"Okay," you reply with a small nod, smiling softly as your eyes meet his. Then you step aside, gesturing to your apartment, "Well, come on in."
Steve smiles as he walks inside, continuing further as you close the door behind him. He wanders into the open kitchen, eyes moving over the space and to the living room area.
"This is nice," he hums, placing his hands in his pockets, "I like what you did with the place."
You chuckle, "Thanks. I only buy the finest Ikea furniture."
Steve lets out a melodic laugh, following your movement when you walk into the kitchen. You reach up to pull open the cupboard as you ask, "So, what kind of tea do you like?"
You don't hear a response immediately, but you almost jump in surprise when you suddenly hear his voice from right behind you, "What kinds do you have?"
You glance over your shoulder, eyes locking with the blonde man towering over you. You smirk, "Well, you tell me. Seems like you can see better than I can."
Steve snorts, stepping closer before his attention is pulled to the inside of the cupboard. He reaches up, his chest brushing against your back when he grabs for a packet and places it on the counter in front of you, "I like this one."
You release a quiet, unsteady breath when you feel the warmth of him pressing against your back, your fingers reaching for the packet of tea.
"Black tea," you hum, picking two tea bags out of the box, "Good choice."
You slide a little to the side, reaching for two mugs in a different cupboard, still nervously aware of his close presence.
"I'm glad you think so," Steve hums, following your movement. He stands behind you again, taking the mugs for you when you stand up on your tip toes to reach them, "Did you know that was the kind of tea the British soldiers drank during World War II?"
Your brows raise in surprise, looking up at him over your shoulder, "No, I didn't. That's pretty cool."
Steve grins, nodding as he places the two mugs on the counter, "Yeah, uh, actually the British government bought out practically all the tea in Europe in order to be able to give them to the soldiers on the frontlines."
"Wow," you respond, your brows furrowing, "That's actually crazy. How could they even do that?"
You walk over to the kettle, filling it with water so you can boil it, while Steve moves to lean on your kitchen counter. He shrugs, "Guess they just decided it was worth it, to keep morale up."
"Hm," you hum, turning on the kettle before you turn to him, "That was really nice of them. I didn't think the government cared much about their soldiers, to be honest. All you ever hear about are the glory while they're away, and then those horror stories when they come back and have PTSD."
Steve's face falls a little, his hands going back into his pockets as he nods slowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Perhaps the British government cared more about their soldiers then they do here.."
"Yeah," you mumble, your fingers reaching for the packet to fiddle with it, "My brother was actually in the army.."
"He was?" Steve asks curiously, "For how long?"
"A long time," you sigh, "Too long. He wasn't the same when he came back home.."
"That happens," Steve replies quietly, "A lot, unfortunately."
You glance over at him, watching how his eyes are trained on the floor. You tilt your head, asking hesitantly, "Is that something you know a lot about? The army?"
"Kinda," he shrugs, offering you a small smile when he looks back up at you, "I was also in the army. I still kind of am, I guess.." He cringes a little, making you turn to directly face him.
You take a small step closer, slowly lifting your hand until your fingers are almost brushing his cheek as you hold eye contact, "Is that how you got this?"
Steve's lips part in a nervous breath when you lean closer, his hands bracing the edge of the counter as he leans on it. His baby blues hold yours, dipping his head ever so slightly until your fingertips trail over his skin.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"But you're not shipped out?" You inquire, your fingers trailing down his cheek to his jaw, "You live here, and you don't go away for months at a time."
"I'm a.. different kind of soldier," he whispers, his face slowly leaning closer to yours, "But I used to be in the army."
"So, you got promoted?" You tease, your voice low. Your fingers trail down his jaw, to the column of his neck, Steve's breath hitching when the delicate touch tickles his skin.
"You could say that," he smiles softly, his eyes burning into yours intensely as he continues slowly leaning closer, "The job isn't very different, though. But I get to go home more often."
You hum, nodding slowly as your fingers curl around his neck hesitantly. You break eye contact for a moment, eyes dropping to his lips, your stomach doing a flip when his tongue darts out to lick them.
Your eyes raise up to meet his again, the hand curled around the back of his neck slowly pulling him closer until you can feel your breaths mixing.
You look up at him with wide eyes, your nerves on edge, and it's almost like your mind goes blank when he whispers, "Can I kiss you?"
You nod immediately, there's no way in hell you'd ever say no.
Steve's eyes drop to your lips, inching himself closer until they softly brush over yours, and then you let out a content sigh when he presses them firmly against your own. You pull him closer by the hand curled around his neck, one large hand landing on your waist to pull you into his chest.
Your other hand slides up his chest to his shoulder, gripping it as your lips glide over his in perfect synchronization.
You lose yourself in the softness of his lips, your unsteady breaths mixing, and you're only faintly aware when you hear the water boiling in the background.
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
hansensgirl · 6 months
Text
🪽— 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱
summary. | Steve Rogers is a good man. You’re a good woman. Emotional affairs are harder than they seem.
Tumblr media
pairings. | Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter, fem!reader x OMC (brief), Peggy Carter x Daniel Sousa
warnings. | ANGST, light smut, allusions to sex, cheating, emotional affairs, pregnancy (not the reader), crying, bad family, sadness, age gap, power dynamics (boss x employee), Christmas, heavy petting, kissing, broken vase (accidentally), sadness, drinking, smoking, nightmares, mild argument, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
word count. | ~2.5k
author's note. | hi! i'm sort of back. i'm very sorry for my hiatus. here's a new fic! this is based on the lyrics from Phoebe Bridgers' Savior Complex, which is one of my favourite songs of all time. let me know what you think! taglist: @hansensfics. i might delete this one, but please don’t save it or upload it anywhere. thanks! MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He’s your boss. You work directly under him.
He isn’t bossy. Really, it’s an issue. Every time he gives you a task, he says ‘sorry’ first and finishes the order with another apology. You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize, but you’ve got the same problem as well. It’s always atonement for something you haven’t even done. You wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it hurt him.
Mr. Rogers is very nice. He has a secret office that he lets you stay in whenever you want. There’s a couch from one country and a desk from another. Each item is foreign in this room.
You’re always so tired, but he tells you to avoid caffeine. He gives you a blanket and tells you to lie down. You listen at first but can never relax. Not when you know he’ll be alone.
The honesty was a mistake at first. Mr. Rogers is so sensitive that he feels what you feel. He knows you so well that if something’s wrong, he’ll bother you until confession. You tell him almost anything, biting your tongue when you know you get too close to baring your entire soul.
The male friend of yours who keeps asking you out. The exams you study for to no avail. Your parents’ absence. Mr. Rogers—Steve, he insists—is a good listener and very wise. It makes sense. He’s much older than you and was on his own adventures when you were born.
The adventures are where he met his wife. Her name is Margaret, and she’s everything you aren’t. She’s headstrong and beautiful beyond words. She’s good with numbers and brilliant. She knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get them.
Peggy is a real keeper. The wedding rings on their fingers prove this well.
Tumblr media
Nothing more than a few kisses and caresses have intertwined you and Steve. Nothing physical, at least.
You’re quiet around him. Never say anything more than a sentence. You shy away when your eyes met, especially if he says something sweet.
Words take up the space as you grow closer. Steve is particularly good with words, whereas you often stutter and blend words together.
And sometimes, there is complete silence. It’s contentful. He replies to emails, and you sort through the pile of mess in the corner.
You tell him your dreams, and he tells you the ones he’s already fulfilled. What he studied in school, his family, his friends, his favourite country he’s been to. Nothing about Peggy—neither of you can bear it.
Unless she’s done something that’s hurt his feelings—like when she swears she doesn’t talk to Daniel Sousa anymore, but he hears them calling late at night.
Sometimes, Steve talks for so long that it gets dark, and your shift is over. He pays you extra—or, at least, tries to. You never take the money because nothing was lost. You enjoy the little time you have with him.
He takes you home, wanting you to avoid walking down the street in the pitch-black evening.
His car is a mess—the same as his office. He apologizes sincerely and pushes everything in the front seat to the back. The directions consist of “take a left” and “keep going straight.” You assume he’ll forget it. You don’t know how much this means to him.
Steve stays parked outside your building when you rush to your room. You live on the bottom floor and are right by the entrance. You’re a movie’s heroine when you throw yourself on your bed and giggle, butterflies filling your stomach.
He is something. The scriptwriter has Steve’s dialogue under his name but with “CHARACTER: TBA” in parentheses. No one knows if the film will be completed. No one knows how it will end.
Mr. Rogers stays parked outside, forehead resting against his steering wheel, and he’s trying to get a hold of his nerves.
Eventually, he grabs his pack of cigarettes that he always hides from Peggy. She often reminds him of his mother—without the sagacity. She tells Steve what he should or shouldn’t do a lot. He hasn’t lived since he breathed you in.
He smokes with the windows up, tears flowing down his face because he knows this can’t happen. He cannot betray his wife, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.
Tumblr media
Steve comes to you on a starry night. You can see the moon and something else twinkling through the trees, and he rings your doorbell.
When you open the door, he’s a large man cowering like a small child. He wants to cry—you can tell. His mouth is in a frown that won’t disappear, and his eyes are glassy.
He’s drunk when he practically falls on top of you. He is slurring apologies that you know are unnecessary. His breath smells of whiskey, and he’s very heavy. You’ve fantasized about him on top of you during restless sleeps, but not quite like this.
Somehow, you crawl out from underneath the older, married man. You know it would be fruitless to lift Steve up, so you drag him to your bedroom.
You keep the door to the bathroom open and bring a bucket as well. The water on your bedside table is his now, and so is the charger and landline. Anything he wants of yours, he can have. He doesn’t even have to ask.
It’s hard to sleep when the one you desire so profoundly is in your bed, sadder than he should be. He drifts off with ease, but he’s violent in his tossing and turning. He shines with sweat and tears, soaking your sheets with his scent. You’re not sure if you’ll wash them. It’s a nightmare you can’t rouse him from, one that you don’t dare to ask him about the next morning.
Steve must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed. It’s small, too small for his big being. Or maybe it’s his hangover—perhaps even hunger. You offer to make whatever, but he grumbles.
He’s not sure why he’s taking his disappointment out on you. He wasn’t trying to test you, but you should’ve turned him away. You should’ve told him to go back home to his wife with her expected child inside her womb, but you don’t know this terrible secret. If you did, it would tear you apart from the inside out. This, he knows, for sure.
Mr. Rogers doesn’t say much to you in the morning, drinking two cups of coffee and staring out the window. You sit across him, and he looks past your face—the very visage he can never seem to tear his eyes away from.
“You shouldn’t have let me stay,” he finally says.
“Why not?” you ask, “you came here yourself. I could never turn you away.”
“You need to. You need to go out and, I don’t know, spend time with boys your age. Boys who don’t have wives or girlfriends they won’t leave you for.”
You flinch as if he’s raised one of his gentle hands.
Steve sighs. “That’s not what I meant. I think the lines between us have blurred. We’re not doing the right thing here, honey.”
You can’t look up, can’t face him. You wish this wasn’t the topic. You wish he had told you about his dream instead, and you would have told him yours. The one where he leaves you, the one where he gets his happy ever after with Peggy, and you get nothing.
He gives you a kiss on the head and bids you goodbye. You’re happy you have a day off tomorrow.
Tumblr media
It’s almost Christmas, about two weeks since the conversation. Steve tries to make things seem normal. Normal in the sense that he hasn’t made his employee fall hopelessly in love with him. Then, normal in the sense that Peggy doesn’t exist, and he can still keep you in his arms until a customer comes in.
You go on dates with your guy friend like Mr. Rogers has insisted, but they’re unfulfilling. He often prefers to stay home and rent a movie, followed by sloppy kisses and dry humping that is unsatisfactory for only you.
“You don’t have to go out with only him,” Steve reminds you one day. You’re in his lap and he’s just finished reading through his entire diary with you. Most pages are about the employee he’s infatuated with, few are about his wife.
“I know. I just don’t want anyone else but you,” you tell him.
Moments later, his mouth is on your neck and his hand is up your skirt. You’re just about to come when a delivery man walks in, calling your boss’ name.
The shop is closed for a week, and your father has invited you to visit him and his new family. Your step-sisters are older and runway-ready. They have wonderful jobs and husbands that aren’t seeing women younger than them.
It’s like a closed practice. An event you can only watch from afar. You have no place here, even if your stepmother cleaned the guest room for you. You book a new plane ticket so you can go home early. You don’t make an excuse because they don’t even ask why; they just bid you goodbye.
You land at a horrible hour. There are too many taxis that families need—families trying to have a nice, hurt-free holiday.
And so you call Steve, and he answers on the first ring.
“Hello?” he greets, and you can sense some kind of anxiety in his voice.
“Um, hi. Happy holidays,” you tell him, nervous beyond belief as well.
His voice is smooth like honey, crooning in your frost-bitten ear.
“Happy holidays, baby,” he says. Peggy isn’t nearby.
“Uh, I’m at the airport. I was with my dad’s family, but I left. I don’t know how to get home. All the taxis are taken up.”
“I’m on my way, okay? Just sit tight, sweetie.”
“Thank you,” you exhale, “thank you so much, Steve.”
“Anything for my girl.”
When he arrives, he finds a place to quickly park. He takes your sole suitcase out of your hands and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
It’s sudden.
Mr. Rogers—your boss, a married man—is kissing you like you’re his only lover. Like he’s your boyfriend, and he’s missed you dearly.
You lean in for more, and he pulls away. Smiling, he opens the car door for you.
He takes the long way home, the ones with few cars driving alongside.
“I didn’t know you left,” he eventually says.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It was a last-minute thing.”
“No, no. Don’t apologize. I went to your place to say ‘hi,’ but no one was home.”
“I should’ve told you. I really am sorry,” you profess.
Steve places a finger on your mouth, shushing you. His hand moves to cup your cheek, and you push your face further into his palm.
“Thank you for picking me up,” you whisper, looking at him intently.
“I’m glad you called me. I missed you. I would do anything for you.”
You say nothing to that. You turn the radio on and the last song is one you recommended to him. You both hum the lyrics until it ends, and he turns it off.
“I always enjoy it when you drive me,” you confess after a while.
“Oh yeah? Why?” he smiles.
“You’re careful. You don’t go too fast or slow. You know what you’re doing. You’re such a pro at it,” you explain, slightly self-conscious of your reasoning.
“That all?” Steve teases, raising his eyebrows.
“Hm… No… I love your hands.” You giggle.
“Yeah? I know you do, baby. Always starin’ at them. I bet you think of them touching you all the time,” he rasps, briefly letting go of the wheel to rub at his beard.
You squeeze your thighs, mind already turning with scenarios where Steve touches you like a starved man.
His hand on your face moves back to your mouth, thumb swiping your bottom lip before pushing in. You suck on the digit, giving it the treatment you would to his cock. When you reach out to touch him, the car suddenly halts.
He stops on the side of the road, eyes watering. Regret etches his features, and you know what’s to come.
“We can’t,” Steve says, pulling his finger out. “Not yet, at least.”
“I know” is all you have to give.
Tumblr media
Peggy visits the store in early March. Underneath her shirt is a small baby bump.
When you see it, your heart stops.
Steve brushes past you to lead her away, examining your face for hurt. You’re behind the shelves and watch the couple, your mouth parted with your eyes threatening to leak. You turn and head towards the back, choosing to hide somewhere so you can fall apart in solitude.
Mr. Rogers watches as you leave. He wishes you would look back and give him something, anything. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hurt you this way. But he did, and he will try to make it right.
Peggy leaves eventually, and Steve closes the store early. He searches for you, listening for a sniffle or movement.
You sit on the floor, a broken vase next to you. He quickly nudges the debris away so you don’t get hurt.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says, looking down at you. You look up, eyes bloodshot, and you stare at him with something he can’t place. He envelopes you in a hug, and you can feel his erratic heart clamouring against your face.
“Come with me to the office, please,” Steve begs.
You shake your head.
“You ask too much of me, Steve. You have a wife and an innocent child on the way. We can’t keep doing this.”
“No, no. Please, just come. Please, honey,” he pleads once more. “At least hit me, yell at me, tell me to go fuck myself.”
“Why would I? I’m happy for you. You’re getting what you’ve always wanted.” Your voice cracks, and you force a smile. Steve sees through it all.
“No. I want you—I love you. But I don’t have you, do I? Listen, I’ll leave her. I’ll still be a good father, even though I know that’s not my kid at all. We’ll go elsewhere. Move into a nice home and do whatever we want,” he rambles.
Strong Mr. Rogers breaks apart in front of you. You take him into your arms, and you both cry together.
You’re the one that leads him to his office. You sit on the couch with him and notice that his wedding band is gone. He always wears it when Peggy comes by, but he didn’t this time.
“That night you took me in—I dreamt of you. I dreamt you weren’t mine, and you didn’t love me anymore. I messed something up and didn’t fix it. It was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had,” Steve admits.
You don’t say anything. As much as the whole ordeal hurts you, as terrible as what you’ve done to a woman and her child, you can’t let Steve go. Neither can he. It’ll have to end someday, just not now. Not yet.
698 notes · View notes
moonvis · 2 months
Text
I NEED YOU ALIVE
Steve Rogers x F! Avenger! Reader Incl. Sam, Tony, and Bucky x Natasha Summary: Steve can't wait to propose, but when a mission goes south, he's not sure he'll get the chance after all Warnings: Angst to fluff! Some cursing. Some blood and injuries. 2.5k words.
Tumblr media
Steve carefully opened the blue velvet box in his hand, revealing a simple yet beautiful engagement ring. Light reflected onto the golden material, a small diamond on top. Steve knew his girl liked it simple, so that was what he got. A warming smile grew on his lips as he imagined the ring perfectly fit on her finger.
Bucky gently nudged at his pal’s side, a smirk present on his face. Steve chuckled as a response, speaking in a low voice, “This is it Buck. I’m proposing tonight after the mission.” It was Y/N and Steve’s two-year anniversary after all, but unfortunately they had to go on a last-minute mission before celebrating.
“M’ happy for you pal. She’s gonna love it.”
Steve had been carrying the ring in his picket ever since he bought it, looking at it every now and then  - even at the risk of Y/N spotting him. Bucky had reminded it of such many times before, “Might put it away before your girl sees it.”
The whole team were gathered inside the jet, but luckily Y/N was sat opposite of the super soldiers, occupied in a conversation with Natasha. Steve let out a happy sigh and closed the box, “You know how it is Buck…”
Bucky did indeed understand; he understood the excitement Steve was feeling, the thought of spending the rest of a lifetime with the love of his life. The former Winter Solider had proposed to Natasha just a few months earlier anyways.  
Bucky patted the blonde’s shoulder, “One more mission, and she’s all yours.”
“Right.” The Captain put the box back in his most secure pocket and got up. Time to get over with the mission. Walking into the middle of the jet, he spoke up, “Okay team. One last recall on the mission plan.”
Y/N gave him her immediate attention, admiring Steve in his Captain America stance. Steve gave her a small smile before he continued talking, “Y/N and Nat will get the files. Buck, Sam and I will go for the hostages, while Tony-” Steve turned to the billionaire, “You work as a shield around the base. This is a last-minute mission, which means we gotta be prepared for anything. Sam will back you up if needed.”
“Dream team,” Y/N commented from beside Natasha, giving her a pound, “Let’s go.”
Tony turned in his seat and prepared the jet for arrival, just outside the Hydra base, “Check your gear everyone! We land in three.”
As the they landed, Steve guided for Y/N to come over, which se gladly did. The Captain put his shield on his back, before caressing his girlfriend’s face, his brows softening as they made eye contact, “Be careful, okay? You know I hate separating from you on missions. So please, don’t take any unnecessary risks. I need you back in one piece.”
Unbeknownst to Y/N, Steve was referring to the upcoming secret proposal, thinking of the ring hidden in his pocket. He needed his future bride to make it back from the mission alive.
“That goes both ways,” Y/N raised a brow and smiled, “But yes, I promise.” With a quick kiss, they bid each other good luck before Y/N jogged off to join Natasha.
“Come on pal, let’s go.” Bucky said form beside the Captain. Steve couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy though, watching his girl disappear out of sight. Shrugging it off, he nodded at Bucky before leading the way.
Y/N and Natasha snuck up to the first entrance where four Hydra agents were guarding the door. Y/N looked over at the redhead mouthing, “Element of surprise?”, gaining a nod in response. On three, Y/N launched forward and kicked one man to the ground, before ducking as another tried to shoot her.
Natasha was already slamming the shooter into a third Hydra agent, while Y/N knocked out the guy beneath her. Finishing off, she shot the fourth and last guy running at Natasha. The girls gave each other a pound before continuing further into the base.
“Y/N look!”
Y/N turned to face Natasha, her eyes following whatever the redhead was pointing at. A staircase, leading up to a glass covered room holding what seemed like computers.
“Just what we were searching for,” Y/N winked and ran towards the stairs, stopping when a pair of Hydra agents suddenly appeared at the top. Y/N was a quick and precise shooter when it came to guns, not arrows, that was Barton’s specialty.
Fast, she brought out her gun and shot both agents in their head before they got the chance to react. Natasha came up beside her, impressed, “Not bad, but save some for me, will you?”
“Then you gotta keep up,” Y/N teased. Natassha rolled her eyes and followed her friend up the stairs. As they reached the computer-room, the coast seemed to be clear, with no booby-traps in sight.
“Awesome. Go do your thing,” Y/N winked at Natasha who entered the room, before she spoke into the comms, “Mission report. We found the computer-room.”
“Good. Get those files and stay on guard,” Steve reported back, “We just found the hostages. Getting them out now.”   
Natasha was skilled when it came to hacking, so downloading the files were like a baby’s work. It was when they thought they were safe to leave the base, things started to heat up.
“We got the files, heading out now!” Natasha spoke into the comms, following Y/N out of the room.
“Copy that.” The Captain sounded satisfied, “And the hostages are brought to safety. Everyone return to the jet.”   
While Tony gave his own report into the comms, the ladies of the team faced a sudden surprise outside the computer-room. Out of nowhere, a gunshot sounded through the hall, followed by the sound of Natasha’s agonizing scream.
She had been hit.
Y/N was quick to react and shot the Hydra agent who had fired and felt a knot in her stomach as she watched her friend fall to the floor. “Nat, shit!” Y/N rushed over and fell to her knees, “Hold still.”
Natasha had been shot through the leg, thick blood flowing out of her wound. Y/N ripped a piece of clothing of her own suit and wrapped it around the redhead’s leg. Bringing a hand up to her comm, her shaking voice spoke up, “Nat’s been hit! We need backup asap!”
“What!?” The frantic voice of Bucky sounded through the comms, “Where are you? I’m coming!”
“We’re just outside the computer room. West part of the base. Please, hurry!” Y/N’s worried voice responded back, before she shifted her attention back to Natasha, “Hold on Nat. Bucky’s coming.”
Natasha was weak, the wound being dangerously deep. The redhead brought out her hand for Y/N to hold, which she instantly accepted. Y/N felt scared, she couldn’t carry Natasha out of there herself, nor would she leave her behind. The last thing she needed was more Hydra agents approaching them in such a vulnerable state.
As if the universe hated them, the voices of more Hydra agents could be heard from downstairs, “They’re up there! Let’s go!”
Shit.
“Guys, hurry! There’s more agents and I can’t deal with them alone with Nat like this!” Y/N yelled into the comms, readying her gun for anything. Right now, protecting Natasha was the only thing she cared about.
“On my way!” Tony said though the comms, his voice stern with a hint of concern.
Steve felt his heart twist and turn, the sickening feeling in his stomach not helping. If he knew his girl correctly, she would do anything in her power to protect Natasha. Even if it meant putting her own life at risk. “Don’t do anything stupid Y/N! We’re on our way!”
“Hold on baby, I’m on my way!” Was Bucky’s words trough the comms. Natasha let out a shaky breath at his voice, clearly getting a bit of relief from it.
As the first Hydra agent made his way up the stairs, Y/N shot him in the head, making him fall into the one coming up right behind him. Y/N got up on her feet and saw at least six more agents running up to get them, “What the fuck?”
“Y/N you need to-” Natasha spoke thought a cough, “Get your ass out of here.”
“Forget it. I’m not leaving you.” Y/N’s voice was stern, so was her stance. As more agents ran towards her, she shot them. One, two and-
Her gun was out of bullets.
In the moment of panic, she took a step back before throwing her gun at the floor. Reaching for her knife, she spoke through the comms again, “My gun’s out, and these bitches keep on coming. Hurry!”
“Fuck, we’re almost there doll!” Steve was panicking. He could run fast alright, but coming from the other side of the base was quite the long way, “Tony!”
“Almost there Cap!”
Taking advantage of Y/N’s moment of distraction, the next Hydra agent tackled her to the floor. She usually managed to take out a guy alone, but as another agent joined in to hold her down, she struggled.
Natasha noticed and couldn’t just lay and watch. The redhead gritted her teeth together and lifted herself slightly off the floor, pointing her gun at one of the agents. Trough her blurred vision, she shot him in the arm. The man screamed in pain and let go of Y/N.
Unfortunately, the Hydra agent realised Natasha was still a threat, even in such a state, and went forward to grab her instead. The man lifted Natasha by the collar and dragged her towards the stairs, pointing his gun at her, “This is what you get little bitch!”
His words grabbed Y/N attention, her eyes widening, “No!”
Everything from there happened so fast. One second she was pushing Natasha out of the way, and the next, she was falling down the stairs with a fresh bullet-wound to her side.
In the moment of tragedy, Iron Man came flying in, catching Y/N only seconds away from having her head slammed on the cold hard ground. Holding her with one hand, he blasted the last remaining agents dead, before finally landing. Tony gently put her down, his mask revealing the distressed features on his face, “My god-”
“Natasha!” The yell and sight of Bucky came in view. He spotted his fiancé at the top of the stairs, not hesitating to get to her side. Right behind came Steve and Sam, having no idea what would meet their eyes.
The exact moment Steve spotted Y/N lying beside Tony, he felt his stomach drop. The Captain rushed to her side, falling onto his knees as dust flew in the air, “Oh my god--”
As Tony put pressure on her wound, Steve brought his hand up to caress her cheek, “Oh my god Y/N, you-”
“M’sorry Stevie…”
“No, don’t you say that!” Steve was panicking, his eyes going up to meet Tony’s, “What do we do?!”
Composing himself, Tony got up from the ground, “She don’t have much time. We need to get her help, asap! I’ll get the jet ready, you bring her.”  
Steve felt his breath quickening at Tony’s words. As he watched Iron Man fly off, Steve shifted his attention back to his girl. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks as he spoke, “I’m sorry doll, but this is gonna hurt.” Steve, as gently as he could, lifted her up in his arms, shutting out her agonizing scream to concentrate.
“Hold on doll, I’m bringing you home,” Steve promised as he ran the fastest he ever had. He watched as his girl grew heavier in his arms, her eyelids trying to fall shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes!” Fuck he was worried.
“I’m not losing you today doll, just keep your eyes open, please.” Steve begged as he noticed how quickly his girl faded.
“M’sleepy…” Y/N wasn’t thinking clearly anymore, not feeling much either. She was just happy her last moments would be in the hands of the man she loved.
“No, I can’t let you to that. You need to stay awake, sweetheart. Please.” Steve cried as Y/N’s eyes closed, knowing there was nothing else he could do but run. “No, no, no, Y/N! Stay with me, please!”
As Y/N went completely numb in his hands, the solider screamed out in frustration. The jet was right in front of him, and as soon as he got to lay her body down, he fell to his knees, silent sobs shaking his broad shoulders.
His hand reached into his pocket, fingers tightening around the blue velvet box. She couldn’t die on him, not like this. He still had an important question to ask her.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Just like he had been doing for the last few days, Steve sat by her bedside, listening to the monitor telling him she was still alive.
Steve refused to leave her side. Sam had tried to at least make him take a shower after the mission, but he still wouldn't budge. Steve had to be present the exact moment Y/N woke up.
“Hey, pal,” Bucky entered the room, “How’s she doing?”
Steve let out a sigh, letting his eyes leave Y/N for just a moment to look at his friend, “You know… the same.”
“Hey, I could watch her for a while if you need some rest,” Bucky suggested, but the Captain only shoot his head, “You know she’s gonna be mad when she wake up and realises you didn’t take care of yourself.”
“So be it,” Steve stoke his thumb over the soft skin of her hand, “I just can’t leave her side. I thought she was gone Buck. You saw it! Her heart stopped, twice!” Fresh tears streamed down Steve’s face at the memory playing in his head.
The day on the injury, Y/N’s heart stopped twice if not more, and it scared the hell out of Steve. He had to see the world crumbling down before his eyes, only for the universe to prank him. It made him angry. Oh, how he hated Hydra, for almost taking away his future.
Bucky didn’t comment Steve’s words. It could easily have been Natasha in that situation, but Y/N had saved her without hesitation. He would be forever grateful – he just couldn’t bear the thought of his best friend losing the love of his life instead.
Luckily, Y/N was recovering.
“You look like shit…” A crocked voice came from the room. Steve’s head shot up in surprise, eyes landing on her beautiful ones looking back at him. Bucky smiled and rushed out of the room, going to get a doctor.
“Y/N? Oh my-” Steve gasped, rapid breaths escaping him, “Fuck, Y/N, I thought I lost you.” Steve reached forward and cupped her cheek, not even bothering to hold back the sobs that followed.
“M’sorry…” Y/N let out a shaky breath, still adjusting to the light and pain in her stomach, “And uh- how long was I out for?”
“Five days,” Steve responded, still in disbelief his girl was finally awake, “Thank god you’re okay, doll. I love you so damn much.”
Y/N was a little taken back by the number of days but shook it off as she watched Steve’s broken expression. She tapped at the empty spot beside her, guiding for Steve to lay down. He hesitated for a moment, scared of hurting her, but accepted when she looked at him with pleading eyes.
“How’s Natasha doing?” Y/N asked as she remembered the redhead.
“She’s okay,” Steve sounded a bit hesitant, “Thanks to you I’ve heard.”
“Steve… I’m sorry for being reckless, I just-”
Steve sighed and reassured her, “It’s okay, I’m just glad to have you back alive. We’ve been at this one before; I’d do the same for Bucky and so on.”
Y/N chuckled and rested her head against his shoulder, hearing his rapid heartbeat.
Letting out a shaky breath, Steve turned to face her properly, his eyes softening as he looked at her smile. He reached into his pocket to grab the blue velvet box he had so patiently waited to give her.
“Y/N, this is not how I imagined doing this, but-” Steve brought the box forwards. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight, her hand coming up to cover her gasping mouth, “Steve…”
Steve opened the box to reveal the beautiful ring, his eyes plastered on her the whole time. Her widening smile and teary eyes made his heart melt, “After almost loosing you, I can’t wait any longer. Please, will you do me the biggest honour of becoming my wife?”
“Oh my gosh! Yes!” Y/N cheered with the little energy she had and let Steve put the perfectly fit ring on her finger, “It’s beautiful Steve!”
Steve let out a soft chuckle, “I know this isn’t an ideal way to propose but-”
“It’s perfect!” Y/N assured him and reached forward to press a kiss on his lips. Though as she moved, a sudden pain overwhelmd her stomach, “Fuck!”
“Shit, are you okay?” Steve went straight into being protective, watching his fiancé shut her eyes in pain. As she didn’t respond, he grew worried, at least, until she started giggling. “Fuck that hurt.”
“You scared me doll,” Steve let out a sigh and reached forward to plant a kiss on top of her head, “You sure know how to pain an old man’s heart.”
Before Y/N got the chance to respond, a doctor came into the room, Bucky following suit, “Sorry for ruining the moment, but we need to check if everything is okay.”
“That’s fine, I know you’ll take care of my fiancé.” Steve kissed the top of her head and left the bed, going to stand beside Bucky.
The brunette punched Steve in the arm, “Now you can finally stop the obsessive ring gazing. I’m happy for you pal.”
“Thanks Buck.” Steve's eyes didn’t leave her figure as he stood there. He watched as she laughed with the doctor, a smile plastered on her face, even though she just woke up from a fay day long coma. She was such a ray of sunshine – she warmed his heart.
Oh, and to believe she would be his for ever.
493 notes · View notes