A/N:Masterlist + My inbox busting at the seams and I’m writing this that nobody asked for. BUT IM COMIN I SWEAR IM TRYIN IM TRYIN IM TRYIN
Summary: Steve handles big boy things on a call while handling you. Who says married couples don’t make time for each other?
“Hello?”
His palm held your hip tightly to keep you against him, caressing your swell of you ass, admiring the soft skin of his woman. With his thick thumb, he slid his finger down your slit coating his fingertip in your anticipation.
He didn’t know he could fall in love with different parts of you. But he did. That pretty face, prettier personality, and perfect pussy. This vacation would give him the time to do everything he needed to do, like pumping you so full of him - “Yes, this is Steve Rogers calling, my wife and I have a reservation for May beginning the third.”
Your hand slid down his leg as you waited, resting over his lap, legs spread open for your husband while he made some calls. You know how annoyed he can get so why wouldn’t you offer up a calming pastime. What kind of wife would you be if you hadn’t?
No matter how many times, day or night over the years experiencing that sweet wetness that leaked between your thighs thrilled him. He was a man, who loved a woman who loved that his heart wasn’t the only thing of hers he was trusted with.
“Yes, I’m calling because there was some type of mix-up with bedding. In the villa, we requested a King and a Queen sized bed.” My wife needs to be able to ride me as wildly as she likes, so when she’s hanging her head off the bed beautifully she has space to stretch her legs, so that when I’ve finished and have this pretty little thing - He circles your nub under his thumb the sunlight streaming in from the window in his office hitting you perfectly from the angle offering him just the right view of his favorite toy glistening. I want her to be able to leak like a faucet and be able to lay down and rest bath without needing a sheet change first.
Pressing your lips against his leg in an attempt to keep quiet while he stroked your clit. You held onto the arm of the chair to help keep yourself some sort of still.
“I’m sorry sir could you excuse me?” He pulled the phone away from his ear and mouth and held it far enough that the sound could be mistaken for anything and bent over to spit on your sex. “He brings the phone back to his ear, laughing. “I’m babysitting my nieces and nephews and they’re just running amok.”
He hummed places the phone between his neck and cheek, amusing himself by patting your slick opening with his fingers just watch to watch the sticky recoil. “Always so wet for me.”
“I’m sorry sir what was that?”
“Nothing, talking to the kids.”
In Steve’s silence to you, you filled in the words you know were guaranteed to have come from his mouth had he not been tied up in conversation.
You take me so well. “You fuck me so good.” While he watches his beefy fingers slide in and out effortlessly.
Think you can take some more sweetie? “Please.”
“Everything’s all cleared up?… Thank goodness. Appreciate all of your help… You too have a good one.” He clears his throat as he hangs up the phone. “Should I call the phone company next?”
Summary:You patch things up with Steve, but will Laurie take you back?
Word Count: 1300
Warnings:Language, fluff, angst.
A/N:Well, this is not my best, but I still like this one. Hope you guys do too! Also, not my gif. Credit to the owner. You know the drill.
He answered after one ring. “Hello?” God, you missed his voice.
“Steve,” you breathed, tears still streaming down your face. It was like a dam had broken and now your eyes were flooded. Your voice was shaking, and you had to speak quietly so you wouldn’t cry anymore. “It’s me.”
It was quiet on his end for a moment or two, and then you heard him sigh. Was he relieved? “Thank God.” He said breathlessly, and you could almost picture him running his hands through his hair.
“And you’re sure?” Steve asked for about the thousandth time.
“Yes,” You insisted, grabbing his hands. You stood in your living room, by the front door. As soon as Steve had walked in you had rushed over to him. “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be hard, but I’d rather see you a little bit at a time then not at all.” You laced your fingers together with his.
He grinned slowly, his eyes nearly sparkling as he looked down at you. You could almost hear the ocean when you looked in his eyes. “Okay?” you said after he didn’t say anything, squeezing his hands gently to make sure he was still alive.
“Okay,” he chuckled, bending down slightly to kiss you. You helped him fill the space by standing just slightly on your toes, your lips meeting in the middle. God, I missed this, you thought, moving your lips against his. Soon his hands let go of yours and traveled to your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, not opening your eyes or breaking the connection between him for one second. He lifted you up off the ground and spun you around for a second, causing you to giggle into his mouth.
Finally he set you down, and you parted, grinning at him with slightly flushed cheeks. “I missed you so much,” you said, pulling him more into your apartment.
“I missed you too, doll,” he replied, chuckling. “I thought about coming into the store a few times, and buying a phone case again. But I figured you would need your space.”
You smiled as you remembered the first time you had met him. You just knew him as Captain America then, this man who fought to protect the world and had been frozen for like, a hundred years (not a hundred, but you didn’t know the exact number). But now, you knew him as Steve, this kind, wonderful, amazing man who swept you off your feet and made you feel so happy, and safe, and invincible.
You spent the night holed up in your apartment with Steve, catching up on the last month you’d missed with him. He told you what he could about all the missions he’d been on, and shared a few stories of being recognized in public. You told him about your fight with Laurie, and how you felt so guilty about leaving things the way they were with her.
“Well, then, you have to talk to her,” Steve said. You were sitting on the couch with him now, talking. He reached over and brushed your hair behind your ears. “You guys have been friends too long just to let it fizzle out like that.”
You thought it was sweet how much he cared, and moved so that you weren’t facing him anymore; instead, your back was pressed against his chest, legs extending across the couch. He pressed a kiss against the top of your head and you could feel his chest rising and falling- steady and sure.
“You’re probably right,” you sighed, closing your eyes. He ran his fingers through your hair. “Tomorrow,” you promised, letting out a yawn. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
You stood in front of Laurie’s apartment, an olive branch in hand. Not an actual olive branch, but a peace offering of sorts. It was a plastic bag full of Laurie’s favorite candy and makeup from work. You glanced down at your phone. A text from Steve helped you work up the courage to knock.
You can do this, doll. Just talk to her.
-Steve
You took in a deep breath, and, with your free hand, knocked on the door.
After a few moments, Laurie answered. She frowned when she saw it was you, and just stood there. She didn’t say anything, just stared at you with her arms crossed over her chest. You swallowed the lump in your throat.
“I, uh, I brought you this,” you said, handing her the bag. She glanced down in to it and, after moments of consideration, allowed you to come inside.
“I’m sorry I was such an asshole,” you spoke again, biting your lip. “I shouldn’t have taken all my frustrations with Steve out on you, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was being a bad friend, and you were being a good friend by calling me out on my bullshit.”
You sighed. You’d said your piece, and now all you had to do was wait for Laurie to forgive you… or decide she never wanted to see you again.
After minutes- literally, minutes- of agonizing silence, Laurie rolled her eyes. “You swear you’re done acting like a lunatic?” she asked, looking at you.
“Yes,” you said, smiling softly. “Yes. Lunacy over. They’ve released me from the asylum.”
“Well, then, get over here, you dumb-ass,” Laurie said, opening her arms. You stepped forward and hugged your best friend, feeling all the pieces finally fall into place.
After the hug, you and Laurie spent the evening watching your favorite movies, quoting the lines you knew so well. She ordered Thai food and pizza and you pigged out with her on food you didn’t need, but damn did it taste good. You split a bottle of wine with her and sang stupid songs at the top of your lungs, and you were so happy to have your best friend back.
The next day, you met with Steve at the grocery store. He only had an hour to spare today to see you, and you had to go shopping for the week before you went to work. You spotted the faded blue baseball cap and knew it was him.
Holding the basket in one hand and Steve’s hand in the other, the two of you walked down the aisles and you occasionally would toss something in the basket. You held a conversation with your boyfriend, talking to him about stuff that didn’t really matter. Then finally, as you approached the produce section, he brought up something that did matter.
“So, Stark- Tony, I mean - is hosting this big, stupid party to celebrate the Avengers being together for three years,” he said, and you chuckled to yourself. “What?” He asked, nudging you with his shoulder.
“That’s so sweet,” you said, grabbing an apple and putting it in the basket. “It’s like an anniversary party. An Aveng-iversary.” You laughed, because you thought you were hilarious.
Steve didn’t. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You are insane,” he said, scoffing at you lightly. “But as I was saying, he’s having this big party, and he told us we could invite whoever we want. And I want you.” He stopped, then scrunched his face slightly. “To be there. I want you to come with me. It’s next Saturday. Can you make it?”
You thought of the work schedule and after a moment or two, nodded. “Yeah, I can make it,” You said, grinning.
“Good,” He said, kissing the side of your head. “Cause my coworkers can’t wait to meet you.”
“Coworkers?” You scoffed. “You mean, the rest of the Avengers?”
Steve nodded, and it dawned on you. A night meeting the rest of the Avengers? Holy shit. You were in trouble.
Warnings: language, sexual tension, innuendo, fluff
A/N:I wrote a thing for my lovely friend @221bshrlocked because she’s a goddess and I love her (her name is literally “An Actual Goddess” in Snapchat soooo) anyway enjoy my love!
You were sparring with Captain Steve Rogers, and hating every minute of it. You knew you had to train in order to improve, but you hated fighting someone you’d been in love with for years.
You had joined the Avengers 5 years ago, after the battle of New York, when Nick Fury found you after you’d gotten kicked off your college’s wrestling team for being too aggressive. And, you may or may not have accidentally lost control and used your powers. You had the power to manipulate people’s minds, which you’d used against your opponent to force her to give up the match. You immediately flipped her so hard that you cracked the floor, thanks to your super strength. That day, you were brought to Avengers Tower, where you were introduced for everyone. They were all good people, but the one you were most preoccupied with was Steve. He was good, pure, charming, and caring. You knew he would make you feel special, and over the last few years, he had become the one you trusted most. Only problem with that? You’d fallen for him. Hard.
You broke out of your reverie when you felt a punch to the gut and landed on the floor.
Steve shook his head, holding out his hand to help you up, “Jesus, (Y/N), you can’t let yourself get distracted. It’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m done for the day,” you say as you stand, refusing to accept his help. You already felt weak, you didn’t need him to embarrass you further for it.
“You still have 10 minutes left-” “I don’t care. Someone else can start early or you can take a break. I’m done,” you say through tears as you start walking away.
He chases after you and grabs your arm, spinning you around, “what’s going on?”
You wrench your arm out of his grip, shaking your head as you open the door, “I told you, I’m done.”
“Done with training? Or is something else going on?”
You slam the door, cracking it as you turn to yell at him, “I’M DONE WAITING FOR YOU!”
He goes silent, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m leaving-”
“What does that mean?”
“Damn it, Steve. When they enhanced you, it obviously didn’t affect your brain cells. You’re absolutely exhausting.” You sigh, looking at the floor. “I’m done waiting for you to notice me-”
“I do notice you-” “Don’t interrupt me, Rogers. I’m done waiting for you to notice me in a way that isn’t as a friend. I’ve been in love with you since Fury brought me here. And I thought I could deal with just being your friend. But apparently I can’t. So I can’t train or hang out with you anymore. I’m sorry.”
Steve stands there, mouth gaping as he tries to process your confession.
“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”
He sighs, biting his lip, and you turn to leave.
You open the now-broken door, but end up against the training gym wall pressed against Steve. He has an arm on either side of you and is pinning you against the wall.
“You can’t say something like that and expect me to let you leave, doll.” He leans down and kisses you deeply, slowly. Normally you prefer fast, passionate kisses, but it’s Steve. He’s savoring you. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he holds onto your waist as he presses you against the wall.
You pull away, putting a hand on his chest, “what does this mean?”
Steve laughs, “it means we’ve been fucking idiots for the last five years, I fell in love the minute I met you.”
You gasp playfully, “CAPTAIN ROGERS YOU SAID A BAD LANGUAGE WORD!!!!!”
“Call me Captain Rogers again and we’re going to need to do something about it,” he growls.
You smirk and kiss him again, finally in your happy place.
Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added!):
Summary: you’re Ryan Reynolds’ assistant/best friend/go to gal for everything, and you’re having the time of your life. When he surprises you during the filming of “Free Guy,” you’re wondering if you can actually have it all
Warnings: just language for now! A little fluff too probably
———————
“Blake, your husband is trying to get his ass kicked. Is he planning something?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
You groan, rolling your eyes, “please for the love of God, just tell me what’s going on.”
“Oh, sorry! Kids are acting up, gotta go! Love you!”
You sit down in the trailer, shaking your head. You’d known Ryan Reynolds for years, and you’d watch his relationship with Blake blossom since day 1. You’d babysat for them, you’d been there for holidays, you were basically like Ryan’s little sister.
Which meant you knew when he was up to something. The hushed phone calls, the lack of communication between scenes. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume he was trying to have you replaced.
And so you sat in his trailer, laying on the massive couch after your lunch. You could totally take a little nap, right? You start to drift off, your petty anger at Ryan starting to fade away.
Suddenly, the door to the trailer flies open, and Ryan pokes his head in.
“Hey there good buddy, you got a sec?”
You groan and stand, walking over to smack him in the head. “I was almost asleep, what do you want?”
“First off, rude. My hair looked perfect.”
“It looks the same as it always does.”
“Ignoring that,” he puts on his famous smirk, “I have a surprise for you, come outside.”
You step around him, blocking your eyes from the sun, “so what’s the surprise?”
“You know I owe you a lot, with babysitting and taking care of my hungover ass for all these years. But I really, really came through on this so you better appreciate it.”
“Is building anticipation a Canadian thing?” You ask, growing impatient as he walks you toward set.
“Okay fine, fine. I’ve been working my ass off for weeks to pull off the perfect surprise that also just happens to benefit the movie. I’ve arranged a cameo by a certain buddy of mine, and I feel like you may appreciate it.”
As you round the corner onto the set, you hear a big, booming laugh you recognize immediately from the countless interviews you’ve watched. You stop walking and stare at your boss, just a few feet from a group of crew members surrounding a single body.
“Ryan Rodney Reynolds you didn’t.”
He laughs, ignoring you as he yells across the room, “hey, Evans! I have somebody I want you to meet.”
You stand frozen in your spot as the crowd clears, and the center of attention gives you his 1000-megawatt smile.
“Holy shit,” you whisper, your breathing quickening as your entire world melts.
Chris Evans is coming toward you.
“Hey! You must be Y/N!”
Chris Evans said your name. Use your fucking brain, your internal monologue scolds.
“Uh yeah uh I’m Y/N I’m Ryan’s I mean Mr. Reynolds assistant. It’s really nice to meet you Mr. Evans.”
“Please, call me Chris.”
Ryan smirks, “surprise! It’s the love of your life!”
You feel your face flush, and your eyes go wide.
“Uh it’s nice to meet you have a good day,” you say as you panic and run, going to hide back in the trailer.
a/n: i saw this tiktok and i literally bursted into tears watching it so i needed to write a hc for this bc god i fucking love this man with my entire soul
chris didn’t know how to go about expressing his true feelings for you
he wanted to tell you he loved you every time he saw you light up, every time you smiled, every time you laughed
in fact, he had been thinking about how to confess it to you all night that chris got like zero sleep while you dreamt away beside him
around 6:30 in the morning he decided to head out and go for a early morning run and maybe surprise you something once you woke up
as he jogged around his quaint little neighborhood in boston, chris continued to think what he should say
“hey,i love you” “i’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while now… but i really love you” “i hope i’m not overstepping but i’m fucking in love with you”
all them sounded too… cheesy? he had no clue.
time went by quick when your thoughts were running at 100 miles an hour because as soon as he knew it, chris saw his watch say it was almost eight
he should get back soon since you normally woke up around that time
on his way back, he saw that the florist shop was already open so he decided to pop in really quick, looking to see if they had your favorites
luckily, they did so he decided to buy a bouquet for you and then decided to grab some coffee and pastries for the two of you at the shop next door
chris thought about how cute you’d look waking up and surprised with the little goodies he got to spoil you, it brought a smile to his face just thinking abt it
once he got your iced coffee and his own order along with a couple chocolate croissants and breakfast sandwich for him, he quickly walked back to his place
luckily when he did get home, you were still sound asleep so he was able to get everything set up nicely
first he threw the flowers in one of the mason jars you kept around, quietly stepping into the bedroom and placing them next to you on the nightstand
but in the process he stepped on dodgers lion scaring the shit out of him
chris swore his soul left his body when you moved around on the bed and thought his cover was blown
luckily though the coast was clear and you just moved a bit in your sleep before he quickly put the flowers down (and grabbed dodgers toy to put away)
after that he got out the breakfast tray, setting your food out and pouring your iced coffee in a nicer glass with your favorite reuseable straw
the final touch was he grabbed a little sticky note and a pen scribbling a little note for you
carefully he picked up the tray and carried it into the room (because one time he made you breakfast and ended up dropping it and food was everywhere)
setting it on the bed next to you before coming around to your side of the bed, nuzzling his nose against your cheek
“hey, g’mornin’ sleepy head” he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth
you hummed in response, reaching your hand out to touch his cheek, trying to open your eyes filled with sleep
“it’s the weekend chris, i wanna sleep” “not even when i got you breakfast?”
you opened one eye, looking at him before sitting up and scanning the room letting out a tired chuckle “christopher, you didn’t need to—oh my god, flowers too? you really didn’t have to do this”
“i wanted to,” he smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed, picking up your hand to kiss it.
you couldn’t help but gush at his sweetness, giving him a quick kiss before seeing the sticky note on the tray
picking it up you laugh reading it “omlette you know…” you pause, eyes reading the last part before you said it out loud. i love you.
quickly you look up at him, smiling shyly. “really? like… for real?”
“yeah,” chris nodded as shyly, cheeks getting rosy. “i love you”
putting the sticky note down. you grabbed chris’ bearded face, pulling him forward and kissing him slowly before whispering back “i love you too”
chris couldn’t help but smile big, a huge relief rolling off his shoulders that you felt the the same way
“that was probably the most dorkiest thing you’ve ever said though” you added, pinching his cheek
“i don’t care, i’m the most luckiest guy on the planet”
summary: finally coming out to chris that ur bisexual
warnings: lil bit of cursing, mentions of anxiety
a/n: this is a self-indulgence post as a bi-baby myself but also dedicated to my fellow bi humans! just know that you are valid and loved
you and chris have been going out for a while now
not officially a couple but you had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be too long till either of you pops the magical question of making it official
however, before this got anymore serious, you knew you had to eventually come out to chris about your sexuality
the subject was still quite a delicate area since you haven’t even came out to your family and only to close friends
but you trusted chris that he would (hopefully) accept and care for you as he has been even before knowing this information
currently you were on the couch in your apartment watching a movie that was almost done you think, you weren’t sure, you were too occupied with your thoughts
to say the least, anxiety was running through your veins at the moment and you kept trying to tell yourself it was going to be okay
you didn’t know but mid-movie chris noticed how you seemed a bit off today but kept it to himself for now at least, he didn’t want to ruin the mood
however just as its about to end you felt like you were almost suffocating to breathe so you quickly excuse yourself running to the bathroom
locking yourself, you lay against the door, trying to catch your breath and pace your breathing
you couldn’t stop thinking about how scared you were about if chris wouldn’t like the fact that you were bi
what if he thought it was weird? what if he decides maybe this wasn’t going to work out and end everything? what if the public comes after chris because you dating him?
so many thoughts were running through your head that you didn’t even realize you were crying till you noticed your vision go blurry
“hey, y/n, is everything ok in there?”
your heart drops to your stomach. oh no did he hear you cry?
immediately you wipe your tears and swallow the lump in throat. “yeah, i’m fine! i’ll be out in a sec.”
chris wasn’t buying your reply as he leaned his head against the door but gave a soft ‘okay’ anyways and waited in the living room for you
eventually when you came out, you saw the worried look he had, your anxiety crashing in a large wave into your chest again
“are you okay?”
“yeah, um,” you bite your cheek, flickering your eyes between his baby blues and your feet. “i just need to… talk about something.”
“was it my cooking? i’m not the best but i try.” there was the chris you knew. the one that knew how to make you feel better with his little jokes
cracking a small smile, you shake your head. “no, its not that. trust me, you cook way better than me, but anyways… i-i haven’t been completely honest with you.”
you join chris on the couch, your hands shaking horribly and he notices. to help you, he grabs one of your hands, running his thumb along your knuckles as he furrows his brows
“i just want to get this out in the clear before it gets more serious… between us. but, um, i-“ the words were stuck in your throat.
tears welled up in your eyes as your body shook. you didn’t even know why this was so hard. it wasn’t this difficult to come out to to your best friends, but with chris, it felt like you were going to pass out
maybe it was because you cared about him, dare you say, maybe even love him. he made you feel special and knew how to make you smile. he was beyond caring and giving. he was literally perfect
maybe because he was the first person you knew that respected you and treated you well that made you too scared that you could potentially loose it in the next few seconds forever
but you needed to do this. not only was it fair to him, but it was what you needed to do for yourself
“hey, hey, y/n, baby, it’s okay. you can talk to me.” you came out of your thoughts when you felt a hand brush along your cheek as you made eye contact with him
“im sorry,” you stifled out a laugh, trying to wipe your tears. “i probably look crazy right now”
“don’t be sorry, just take your time. i have all day.”
the way he looked at you right now with those piercing baby blue eyes eased you, grounded you. squeezing his hand that held yours, you took a deep breath, clearing your mind of those stupid static noise thoughts
“there you go, just keep breathing” he said softly, stroking your cheek giving you a small crooked smile.
clearing your throat, you took one last deep breath, looking at your lap for a second before back at him.
you can do this. he deserves to know.
he’ll care for you. no matter what.
you. are. valid.
“i’m bisexual. i, um… i just wanted to tell you that so you know. i-if you’re not comfortable with that we can just end this now and whatever i-i completely-“
before you could finish, chris ran his thumb over your lip to stop you from rambling. at first you couldn’t read him but you saw his eyes soften, a began to smile appear
“if you think i’m gonna end this because of who you are, you’re completely wrong, hun.” he said softly, moving closer to you, ocean blue eyes running all over your face.
“you aren’t?” you whisper, his thumb running over your bottom lip as it trembled, tears welling up in your eyes again
“no, why the fuck would i ever do that? that’s just… stupid.” he shook his head, with a soft chuckle. “i’d be the biggest idiot on the face of the planet to leave someone like you.”
you couldn’t help the blush that crept on your cheeks as tears began to run down them again. “it’s just… some people are weird about it, so… i just wanted to make sure you’re okay”
“i’mmore than okay. as long you’re happy, then i’m happy. no matter what your sexuality is, baby.”
the words he said to you made you smile through the tears. it felt as if a weight had been instantly lifted off your shoulders as you wrapped your arms around him
chris brought his lips to yours, kissing you so passionately you thought you were gonna melt in his arms into a puddle. it felt as if all the worries you had about the world and its outlook on you just disappeared
once the two of you pulled away just a bit, you felt his smile against your lips as you flickered your eyes up to his
“im proud of you, by the way. i know that it was probably a really nerve racking thing to do.”
“it was… but i’m glad i did it. i feel a little more empowered than i did a couple minutes earlier.” you confess, biting on the corner of your lip
“i’m glad, you should be. be proud of who you are, baby.”
in that moment, you knew that chris was going to the best and most supportive partner you’ve ever had
summary: you & chris having karaoke night singing some ariana grande!
pairing: chris evans x fem!reader
warnings: some cursing
a/n:i was listening to ariana grande earlier and pictured this so vividly so i needed to write sumin karaoke night with chris bc ik baby boy would be living his best life drinking and singin’ all night
at least once a month or when chris was home, you and chris would have a karaoke night whether it was with his family or just the two of you
you’d be drinking beers, order take out and use the special plastic toy mic you bought for singing, overall a chill ass night
chris would love to do all the classic 80s and disney songs of course, belting out on songs like let it go from frozen to don’t stop believing by journey
your personal favorite would be duets with chris because the two of you always ended up a giggly blushy mess
3 beers in tonight, you were feeling a duet now with your big goofy boyfriend
“aw shit it better not be another ariana grande song” “babe, you know its gonna be another ari song! it’s tradition!”
your favorite was doing ariana grande so of course you searched up a classic duo song from ari: problem
the second chris saw it he’s groaning because you both know he’s not the best at rapping but nonetheless he gets up from the couch ready to duet it with you
grabbing your microphone, you sang along to ari’s lyrics, looking right at chris, grabbing out his hand while he did the little background vocals for you rolling his eyes as you wiggled to the song
when the chorus hit, you spun around giggling as he whispered ‘i got one less problem with ya’ before he grabbed your hand, pulling you into his embrace starting to dance with you
the two of you held back your laughs, smiling big until the both of knew what was coming next
chris turned to the tv to see the lyrics as he tried to spit iggy arzaylea’s rap
“it’s iggy iggs! uh- what you got? smart money betting, i’ll be better without you uh- fuck, umm, you say you really know but i really really doubt you understand my life is easy when i aint around you!”
full on sassy chris would be in your presence, waving his finger at you, rapping to his best of his abilities while you cheered him on
also his bostonian accent would probably come out as he rushes his words out, making it a little hot to watch ;)
“theres a million yous baby boo so don’t be dumb, i got 99 problems but you won’t be one like WHAAAT?”
he’d probably do an air micdrop looking at you giving a cheesy swagger look while you belted out the last part of the song
once it was finally done you’d clap smiling, getting up on your tippy toes to peck his lips “i think secretly deep down you love when i choose ariana for karaoke”
“she’s alright,” he’d smirk, smiling down at you as he gave a squeeze to your hips before giving you a peck back “i only do them because you look really fuckin’ cute getting all into it”
the rest of the night the two of you would be plopped on the couch probably doing disney songs
chris’ favorite song to do with you would be i see the light because every time he sang it with you, you’d get all shy and blushy and he loved seeing the affect he had on his girl
also you always end up in tears at the end and he adores giving you kisses and hugs to cheer you up
but when it was time to pump shit up again you guys would do some elton john or bon jovi and someones dodger would join in trying to make some harmonies with his little howls
by the time it’s one am though, the two of you would be karaoked out for the night and end with you getting a piggy back ride on chris to the bedroom to get ready for bed <3
a/n: it’s been a hot min since i’ve posted but i miss writing n wanted to write sumin kinda domestic ??
“steve,” you hummed, looking away from the tv screen to your super solider boyfriend was was beside you on the queen size bed, quietly reading a book. “i’m bored.”
“you’re watching a movie, aren’t you?” steve quietly chuckled, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip before saving his current place in the book, looking at you now.
“yes but,” you sighed, poking out your bottom lip. “i can’t focus. let’s do something!” you grinned, shutting the tv off before climbing over steve, planting yourself on top of him.
“and what would that something entail?” he smirked, grabbing both your hands in his, fingers intertwining before kissing the back of both.
“if you think we’re going to fuck, you thought wrong steve grant rogers.” you laughed, steve grabbing you by your wrists now, pulling you down to kiss you before furrowing his thick brows.
“i thought that was what you were implying though,” he frowned, you blushing slightly as you pulled your hands away, pushing yourself up against his chest, watching him pout like a little golden retriever pup. “you teased me you little brat.”
“imsorryyyy,” you giggled, kissing his cheek before sitting up again, watching steve’s large hands trail under the large tshirt you wore, running across your waist, then your rips before cupping each of your breasts in his hands, massaging them gently. “maybe later, baby. but i really wanna paint your nails.”
“paint my nails?” steve crooked his head to the side, stopping his movements.
“yeah, like a nice red color. oh! maybe with a little star on your ring finger! that would be so cute.”
steve smiled at how gosh damn wholesome you were at times. it was moments like these were he just wanted to hold you, kiss you and protect your tiny precious little self from the rest of the big bad world.
“so can i?” you asked, placing your hands on top of his as you felt him run his thumbs over your hardened nipples now, causing you to bite your lip gently.
“of course you can, but i will take small fee in the form of a kiss.” steve chuckled, hands falling down to your waist now as you leaned forward, close to his face taking in his beautiful big blue eyes.
seconds after, you planted your lips on his, moving against his soft plush ones, his mouth working yours open for a little more. as the kiss deepened, you felt the grip on your waist tighten, tongue gliding over yours with ease before you pulled, lips swollen and used.
“you sure you don’t want to mess around?” he asked, voice horse and smirk playing on the corners of his lips.
Summary:(First Responder!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?
Warnings:Angst, fluff, blood, death, major character death, relationship abuse,mental/physical abuse,domestic violence, alcohol, hospitals, language, panic attacks, hospitals, guns, violence, 9-1-1 calls/situations (more detailed per chapter)
AN: This is my first Steve Rogers story, and I hope I did him justice. This story is inspired by one of my favorite TV shows, 9-1-1. There are some similarities between the show and this story, so spoiler warning if you haven’t seen the show or plan to see the show! I hope you enjoy it!
Updated Every Tuesday
Part 1 (January 26th) Part 2(February 2nd) Part 3(February 9th) Part 4 (February 16th) Part 5(February 23rd) Part 6(March 2nd) Part 7(March 9th) Part 8 (March 16th) Part 9(March 23rd) Part 10(March 29th) Part 11(April 6th) Part 12(April 13th) Part 13(April 20th) Part 14 (April 27th) Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Final Part
just started this!! i’m loving it sm check it out yall
summary: steve surprises you on a date to a 50s themed night bar!
warnings: none!
natasha had been trying set up steve on a date for a while now
and as much as he appreciated it, he much rather just let that gal wander into his life
but today at the compound as he walked about, he couldn’t stop staring at you. he thought you were one of the prettiest girls he’s seen
of course nat catches on quickly the way steve is around the two of you so she introduces you to the super soilder
eventually that day, you and steve were chatting more than when you were with nat (she was annoyed asf but was also glad to see that she mightve just paired up steve with the love of his life)
after that day, steve would ask nat when the next time you’d come and visit at the compound so he can surprise you with that record the two of you talked about
and when you do visit, as he gifts you the doris day album, he musks up the courage to ask you out to dinner next friday, to which you say yes
so in his free time when he wasn’t on a quick mission or writing reports, he’d be in his room planning out the perfect date, even using his laptop he rarely uses to find some recommendations online
he found that there’s a thing called dapper day’s at a bar where people dress up as if they were straight out of the 50s. he might’ve been already frozen but it was close enough for him
but because he doesn’t want to fully give away the date, he has nat help him surprise you by telling you the attire for the date but that was it
if steve was being honest, he was really excited to feel as if he was back to his normal life for a night, pre-super soldier serum
when friday came, steve dressed to fit the era, pulling up on his motorbike in front of your apartment
and when you stepped out, steve swore all the air in his body left him instantly
you wore a mid calf length dress that was navy blue with polkadots, little white pumps and your lips were painted cherry red with your hair curled to perfection
you literally looked as if you were in the wrong era, but it was his era. and he couldn’t help the big smile on his face
“you look absolutely stunning, y/n,” he glowed as you walked over, blush creeping on your cheeks. “if im being honest, i feel a bit dressed down now”
“don’t be silly, you look really handsome!” you grin. “but if you don’t take me where we’re going any slower i’m gonna loose my mind”
so after helping you up on the bike, the two of you speed down the streets of nyc to the bar
and when you arrived, you were in complete shock. you felt as if you had been transported to some tv show. everyone was absolutely dressed to perfection
plus the venue did not disappoint. couples were dancing the night away to the live band on the small stage. others in corners of the bar talking or drinking, even sharing milkshakes
“steve… this is so amazing, how did you find this place?!” you gasp, looking around taking everything in
“uh, i used the internet,” he chuckles nervously, scratching the back of his neck before taking your hand. “drinks first or wanna dance?”
without hesitation, the two of you make your way to the dance floor, moving around the others that danced to the jazz that roared through the building
with your arms around his neck and his hands on your waist, the two of you swayed to the music, smiling ear to ear at each other
“does this bring back memories for you?” you asked softly
“yes, except i would step on a girls’ toes… or i wouldn’t have a partner to dance with.” steve chuckled nervously
you frowned a little before steve spun you around, your eyes meeting again, “well you have me, just please don’t step on my toes..” you teased
“i’ll try not to” he winked, giving you one of his dorky smiles you quickly found to be the cutest things about steve rogers
the two of you would dance all night long, smiling and laughing the entire time, share little stories to each other
if steve hadn’t already fallen for you, he fell even harder, absolutely head over heels
and just like the gentlemen he was, by the end of the night when he took you back home, he’d walk you to apartment door
before you stepped inside and thanking him for a perfect night, you’d get up on your tippy toes, pressing your cherry colored lips to his cheek
“see you soon, soldier” you wink
once you shut the door, steve felt his cheeks burn as he touched his lipstick stained skin, sighing in complete relief
Disclaimer:The content which is displayed below holds themes that are considered mature, minors are not to interact, thank you
Pairing: nomad!steve rogers x female reader
Summary:Working alongside Steve meant following a lot of orders, however this didn’t mean you had the obligation of obeying these orders – Steve didn’t like this. This leads to a lot of unsaid words, emotions and thoughts between you two.
Warning:Angst, fluff, smut – mdom!steve rogers, slight fdom from y/n, teasing, seggual tension, ooc steve rogers, slight praise kink, use of the word slut, p in v (minors dni, you will be blocked).
“I told you not to leave your post. Why do you continue to go against everything I say?” Steve’s voice continued to bounce of the walls of the briefing room as he paced back and forth.
He had been ranting on about your latest mission, which you just got back from. Both of you were still in your attire from the mission.
“Wanda needed the reinforcement, if I stayed at my post – doing nothing, then the mission would’ve been compromised.” You stated calmly resting your hands on the table in front of you.
“That’s what you’re not understanding y/n, Wanda has powers, she could’ve taken care of herself. You on the other hand…” He stopped before he said something which would worsen the argument even more.
“What Steve? Why don’t you finish what you’re saying?” You folded your arms and looked at him with a raised brow.
He released a sigh and pinched his brow but winced when he remembered the deep cut on it. He didn’t mean for to insinuate anything.
“Look y/n, I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“And no one did, we managed fine.”
Steve’s eyes directed itself to yours and then to your side.
He knew.
He saw you wincing when Sam nudged your side as you made your way off the quinjet limping.
“Lift up your shirt for me.” He said walking towards where you were seated.
You stared at him challengingly, when he raised a brow, you gave in and did as he said.
His eyes were met with a gash which painted the left side of your torso in red. He bent down till he was at your level and gently traced his fingers along the gash. Goosebumps erupted at the feel of his fingers.
You watched as he clenched his jaw and looked up at you.
“This is why I give you orders.” He whispered.
You didn’t say anything, afraid at how he may react.
“We need to get you to the med bay.” He moved your chair forward and put his one hand under your legs whilst the other went to support your back.
“I can walk there just fine.” You said as he stood up with you in his arms.
“You were limping off the quinjet, there’s no way I’m letting you walk to the med bay.” He stated beginning to walk out of the briefing room.
By now everyone had been in their rooms cleaning up and having a rest, which made the compound more quiet than usual. Once at the med bay, he let the nurses tend to you. He waited there the entire time.
Dr. Helen had informed Steve that the gash at your side wasn’t anything to be worries about and would eventually turn into a bruise, but it’ll be okay in a few weeks. He declined Helen’s help to tend to the cut on his eyebrow, claiming he needed to ensure you were taken care of first.
“Alright, c’mon.” He said helping you off the bed and onto your feet.
“I can walk this time, Captain.” You insisted, pushing his hand away.
He took note of the use of ‘Captain’ – which to him let it be known that you were still angry.
“Steve.” He said and put his hand at the small of your back guiding you to your room.
The walk to your room was silent, he waited in your room as you showered.
When you got out of the bathroom, he diverted his eyes away from you as you changed by your closet. He tried his best to divert his mind away from the thought of your body, even though you two shared many moments together.
Once you were dressed, he turned to make his way to his room, but stopped at the call of his name.
“Yes?” He responded turning back to you.
“Come here.” You motioned your head to the couch in your room as you took out your first aid kit from your nightstand.
“You don’t have to-“
“Come here.” You repeated yourself, your voice sterner this time.
He made his way to the couch and sat down, resting his back against the back of the couch.
The couch was low enough so that he was at waist level for you, although his wound was on the opposite side of where you were. The slight movement of you bending over made you gasp in pain.
Steve’s hands made its way to your waist to sturdy you.
“I told you not to.”
You straddle him as you clean the cut, it wasn’t something out of the ordinary. There were many moments where you and Steve had been in the position you were in. However, this time it felt different to the both of you.
The cut was deep, but not deep enough to need stitches.
“It was stupid of you to not get this checked out when we were at the med bay.” You dabbed the cottonwool on his eyebrow a bit too hard, making him wince causing you to pull back and move your hips in the process.
Steve could feel you press against him, the movement of your hips made him start to grow hard.
“You were hurt” He stated gazing from your eyes to your lips.
You roll your eyes at his words and go back to cleaning his wound.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you with my words earlier.” He said letting his hands massage your waist up and down.
“I know.” You give him a small smile.
“I care about yo-, the team.”
Although his words were meant to be thoughtful, you couldn’t help but feel a sting that he changed his words at the last moment.
“You best be on your way then… to get some rest!” You went to move from straddling him, but his hands tightened at your waist pulling you back down into his lap.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile.
Steve gently lifted you off him like it was nothing.
He got up from the couch and made his way to the door, you watched him from where you were, with the first aid kit still in hand.
“Good night y/n.” He said walking to your door.
“Good night.”
And with the closing of the door, he was gone.
The next day Steve hardly acknowledged you. At breakfast he sat the furthest away from you, when you went to talk to him, he dismissed you saying he was needed in a meeting with Tony.
He’d basically did everything he could to avoid you.
At night he would normally come to your room, talk for a little – which would result in him sometimes sleeping in your room, but that night he hadn’t come to your room.
After that, you didn’t try to interact with him.
This behaviour continued for the rest of the week.
Avoiding you at training, making excuses to not talk to you and keeping away from you entirely. Although that never stopped the two of you from looking at each other longingly. There was nothing but Steve’s own thoughts stopping him from talking to you.
The idea that he needed to stay away from you in order to keep his professional life and personal life from mixing had solidified in his mind.
You were causing him to feel things he had been trying to keep away from.
Being Captain America to him meant committing to helping his country to the best of his ability, and for that to happen he couldn’t be emotionally involved with you.
It was now Saturday morning, Steve had been sitting and pondering on these thoughts when you walked into the livingroom where he, Natasha and Bucky were sat.
“Any plans for this weekend y/n?” Natasha asked as you walked into the room.
Your eyes met Steve’s briefly before looking to Natasha’s.
“I’m having dinner tonight with someone.” You said only intending for her to hear, although thanks to Steve’s super hearing, he heard it too.
“Is that so? And whom might the lucky gentlemen be?” Natasha said happy at the news.
“Someone I met this week through training.” You answered sitting down on the couch next to her.
Steve looked in your direction at the mention of that. He usually was the one to train with you. So, if it weren’t for him avoiding you this week, then you wouldn’t be going to dinner with someone tonight.
He continued to listen to your conversation with Natasha and took note of the time you would leave for your date.
“Something wrong Steve?” Bucky asked once he realised Steve hadn’t been listening to what he was saying.
“No, everything’s just fine.” He grumbled while looking to you.
Towards the afternoon, you were looking for Natasha to ask her opinion on your dress for your date when you heard Steve and Bucky talking.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this. You both clearly like each other.” Bucky said with a sigh.
“Because Bucky, its too dangerous. I care too much about y/n to involve her in the trouble that may come with me being Captain America.”
“No one is going to hurt her. She’s more skilled than I am in combat, and she has a whole team of assassins, spies and superhero’s looking out for her all the time.”
It was in that moment Steve realised that maybe, just maybe allowing himself to be with you isn’t a bad thing.
“Maybe you’re right Buck.” You heard him say softly.
You walked away from the conversation with an idea in your mind. An idea that would make Steve Rogers surely lose his mind.
The time for your date was nearing and you were almost finished getting ready. A knock at your door caught you attention as you were trying to zip up your dress.
You were in the bathroom and called out loud for whoever it was to come in.
In your bathroom were big mirrors which allowed you to be able to see who it was behind you.
“Steve?” You said his name.
“Hi.” He greeted, letting his eyes roam your body.
“You look beautiful.” He said walking up behind you, till his front was pressed against your back.
You watched him in the reflection of the mirror as he let his hands settle on your hips.
When he came to your room, it was his intention to speak to you and let you know the reason behind his recent behaviour.
“Is this what you’re wearing for your date?” He asked, with a hint of anger in his tone.
“Yes.” You replied shakily as his one hand made its way to your exposed back.
Your skin was smooth on his fingertips, Steve felt himself grow hard at the thought of what you would feel like against his body, writhing beneath him in pleasure.
“Do you mind zipping up my dress?”
His eye’s met yours in his reflection.
He moved your open hair to the side and traced his fingers from your collar bone to your back.
The zip seemed so little in his fingertips as he zipped you up.
“Is that alright?” He asked huskily.
You nodded in response.
Your body pressed into his, letting your butt press against his hard cock.
His reaction surprised you as his fingers made their way around your neck, squeezing gently.
“You don’t know what you do to me.” He murmured while pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.
“Is that so?” You ask.
It wasn’t often that you got to see this side of Steve. He was only ever physically affectionate when it was the two of you, late at night sharing a bed. You hadn’t yet crossed the boundaries of sleeping with each other. All you ever craved was each other’s affection and warmth.
“Mmm-hmm.” He hummed.
You turn around slowly, his gaze on you is fixed and filled with lust. You make the bold move of trailing your hands down his chest and to his jeans.
“If you really wanted me to know what you’d do to me, you would’ve shown me by now.” Your hands moved in a slow motion teasing his cock through his jeans.
He moaned at the contact; this was the furthest you two had gotten in terms of being physical.
“You make it hard for me to keep control around you princess.” The nickname made you smile; your hand movements hadn’t stopped – in fact Steve was now beginning to thrust his hips into your hand.
“I would let you do whatever you want to me. Fuck me till I’m senseless, make love to me till I’m begging you to stop… but it’s too bad that our interests lie in different places.”
You stopped all movement and stepped away from him.
Looking to you in a confused daze, he watched as you walked out of the bathroom and into your room to retrieve your purse.
“Thank you helping me with my dress Steve, but I should get going. I wouldn’t want to be late.” You walked towards the door and opened it, you looked back to him – he was now stood in your room watching after you with desire.
The truth was you hadn’t really gone for your date. When you overheard the conversation between Bucky and Steve you cancelled the date and set about a new plan.
You knew what Steve was going to do; besides Bucky, you were the only other person to know him like the back of your hand.
You informed Natasha to be the one to tell him where your supposed date was going to be. Like a man on a mission, you saw him walk into the bar looking around for you.
As soon as he spotted you, he walked in your direction. There you were sat, with a glass in your hand.
As he neared, you set the glass on the bar top and leaned on your elbows as your supported your head up.
“Took you long enough.” You murmured.
“Where’s your date?” He asked.
“He just arrived.”
You motioned for the bartender to come your way, you ordered Steve’s favourite drink – even thought you knew it wouldn’t affect him one bit.
“Take a seat.” You patted the chair next to yours.
He listened to you and sat down.
“So, what are you going to be having for dinner?”
That’s when it registered in Steve’s mind.
“You little minx.”
The waiter took your menu’s away. Steve hadn’t stopped gazing at you the entire time.
“We have a lot to talk about.”
“We do.” You agreed.
His blue eyes meet yours; he takes that moment to really look at you, the women he’s come to feel so much for.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve been towards this week.” He explained shaking his head briefly.
“I accept your apology… I genuinely thought I’d done something to push you away from me, and that’s the last thing I’d ever want.” You said in honesty.
“You could never do anything to push me away.” He reached forward and took your hand in his, “I thought my choice would be the best thing for us.”
He took a moment to form the right words to say.
“I always had this idea in my head that love had to wait. I’m too consumed in the life of being Captain America. Steve Rogers barely exists to me anymore.” His tone was low as he said this.
It was hard for him to admit, being a part of S. H. I. E. L. D had taken its toll on Steve. His been playing the role of a superhero for so long that he could barely recognize himself.
“Steve Rogers exists to me. The boy from Brooklyn who wanted to help those who needed it most, I see him in you every day.” You assure him.
“Sometimes its not a bad thing to be selfish. You of all people have earned that choice.”
This is why Steve feels the way he does towards you. You always knew the right things to say.
“Everyone I’ve ever cared about has been affected by this. Peggy, Bucky – the whole team, which is why I thought by pushing you away I would be keeping you safe.” He explained giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“You don’t need to push me away. I’m here, always.”
“I know princess, and I realised that I’d rather have you close to me than far away.” In that moment the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.
“So, what did you think about my plan on you?” You asked leaning on your door.
“I liked your plan, especially the beginning of it.” He rested his hand on the wall behind you, trapping you against his body.
“Is that so?” You asked with a raised brow.
He smirked at your words and brought his lips to yours.
This kiss was something you both have craved since the moment you knew life would be dull without the other. Steve knew the moment his lips touched yours that there was no going back on how he felt for you.
“I love you so fucking much.” He murmured against your lips, bringing his hand up to touch your face.
“I love you too.” You giggle as he trails kisses from your kisses from your lips to your neck.
“I don’t think Tony would appreciate the PDA if he were to check the camera’s.” Your eyes go to the camera in the corner pointed in your direction of the hallway.
“We need more privacy then.”
He clasped your room doorknob in his hand, very clumsily opening it while trying not to break contact from you as he kisses you.
Once successfully in the room, you put your hands on his broad shoulders to briefly pull him away you.
“I want you to do whatever you want with me.” You stated referring to your conversation from earlier.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“More than I’d ever been before.” You smile as he lifts you off the ground before you can even finish your sentence.
“The number of times I’d wish to have you beneath me in this bed.” He said settling you down on the bed carefully to not hurt your injury from the mission.
“Show me then.” You said boldly.
Steve’s mind couldn’t form a response as he began to start undoing your dress and getting rid of his attire.
“Your body is something only angels would carve so perfectly.” He growled out while gazing down at you.
You were perched up on your elbows, in nothing – naked to Steve’s roaming eyes.
“I could say the same about you.” You say biting your lip at the sight of him.
He smirked at your expression and situated himself between your legs.
“This is all yours.” He said taking your hand in his to trail down his body. His hand settled yours on his hard cock. You gasp at how hard he is – Steve’s size was enough to have you unconsciously roll your eyes to the back of your head.
“You do this to me.” He said taking note of your hungry eyes.
His fingers made their way to your pussy, “So fucking wet for me already.”
You moaned at the contact and bucked your hips forward, Steve chuckled at your movement.
“So impatient.” He teased you more by adding pressure to his fingers, “Lets see if I can make you cum like this.”
He teased your clit, moving his fingers in an 8 symbol. He picked up speed on it as your began to moan more and more louder.
“That’s it princess, let me hear you.” He encouraged, now teasing the entrance of your pussy with his fingers, in a slow motion his finger delved inside of you.
He hissed at the tightness you held around his index and middle finger.
“So fucking tight.”
You were getting close to your cumming as he left his thumb tease and occasionally circle your clit.
“I can feel you clenching on my fingers, you gonna cum for me princess? You gonna cum on my fingers?”
You nodded your head in response as he stared at your intently.
Your eyes soon rolled to the back of your head as his fingers still moved inside of you. Steve was laying small kisses on your cheek, calming you down from the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm.
When you refocused your eyes, you saw Steve now between your legs, moving his hand up and down his cock while looking at your body.
He let his tip tease your sensitive clit, smirking as you still moved your hips forward.
“You still want more hmm?”
He teased your clit by lightly slapping his tip against it.
“Beg for it.” He demanded in a stern tone.
“Please give me your cock Steve, I need to feel you.” You begged as you peered up at him.
Your words seem to do something to him as he took his tip and slowly entered you.
A gasp escaped your lips as he stretched you open.
“Slowly baby, we’ll go slow.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his hips moved more towards yours.
The sting of having his big cock in you was enough to make the pain pleasurable.
He didn’t stop till his pelvis met yours, completely making you feel full of him.
“You’re doing so good for me.” He praised.
When he went to pull back, he didn’t move back completely – he was still deep inside you when he thrusted forward.
He continued this sweet torture till you were clenching around him.
“Faster Steve, please.” You gasped out with his hand around your neck.
He didn’t waste time picking up his pace. The only thing that could be heard in the room were the slapping of your skin against one another, the moans coming from you and Steve and lastly the slight hitting of your headboard against the wall.
With each thrust Steve was going faster and harder. He went from making sweet love to you, to full on fucking you like his dirty little slut.
“Steve- fuck. Cumming.” Was all you managed to get out as your orgasm hit you.
Steve was moaning into your neck as his own orgasm hit him. He kept the same pace and motion as he came in you. He only stopped when the pleasure became too much, and his cock was sensitive.
He moved back and laid his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes. In that moment there was nothing else in your world except you, Steve and the love you had for one another.
WARNINGS:signs of depression, severe anxiety disorder, SUICIDE
A/N: Please contact me if you have any kind of problems or need help.
She tried to take deep breaths, holding onto the wall, trying to stop her hands from shaking. It was one of those moments where she stopped pretending, she wasn’t who she was portraying; a hero; a powerful member of the Avengers who always stood strong.
She was used to bad days. She knew loss, grief, dark days; she used to think she could overcome it all, it would all be okay with time. Time had been the cure for every single disappointment, or a sadness she had in her life. She had learned to heal, and to be strong with time. But she also learned that some days could be unbearable by the hard way.
Those days, were now more than just ‘bad days’. They had became her weeks, months…now her whole life.
Pain changed people and now, she was not who she used to be. She had started to realize that she couldn’t take what it takes to be a hero. All her friends, her family were heroes. They were strong. They knew how to live with pain, regret, sarrow, grief, loss…She felt like the weakest one in the team, she knew would make mistakes others had to pick up after her. She thought that she was a burden, everyone’s lives would be better off without her. And living with that thought, made her life unbearable. She had started to wake up every morning trying so hard to make it out of bed, and sometimes she didn’t.
She didn’t want anyone to know how she felt, because she was ashamed. So she always put on a mask, did her best to look as happy as she never could be.
When she felt like she couldn’t breathe, she stumbled into the terrace. She could feel her knees shaking, she just sat down on the floor, trying to stop her whole body from shaking.
What is wrong with me?
At first,it got harder to breath but she tried to stay calm, then she felt the air in her lungs, relaxing her in each breath.
Okay, there you go, you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine….
It was not her first time experiencing a severe anxiety attack. She got up slowly, walking around the terrace, trying to make herself forget about the pain by watching the beautiful view of the city from the tower. She unconsciously walked over to the edge, just to look down. It was too high, she had trouble seeing the street. She thought that it would be impossible to survive if she fell. She had thought about death before, but not like this. She had gotten to the point where she started considering it. She stepped up on the edge, feeling the wind, looking down; trying to see the ground clearly.
It would make things easier, for everybody. She thought.
“Sir, I think you would want to see this.” FRIDAY spoke to Tony as he was down his lab, buried deep in work.
“No just-“ When Tony looked up on the screen, he was shocked; paralyzed. It was (Y/N), standing by the edge, looking down on the ground. His brain froze for a moment, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Was she…considering to take her life?
He immediately ran out of his lab, straight up to the terrace. When the others saw him rushing outside, they ran after him, figuring out that something was wrong.
“Oh my god.” Natasha breathed out in shock when she saw her.
“(Y/N)!” Steve called out for her, they walked towards her until she turned to face them.
“DON’T!” She shouted, and they all froze in their places in panic.
“(Y/N)-“ Tony tried to speak, taking a step closer but she wouldn’t allow him.
“D-don’t move!”
“Okay- hey, let’s just calm down for a moment, okay?” Natasha said with a low, calm voice.
(Y/N) was now in tears, she didn’t even know when she did start crying.
Steve got so scared he didn’t know what to say, he tried pulling himself together, “J-just hear us out, okay?”
“Whatever is it that you’re going through, we can do it together…” Tony said, speaking too fast because (Y/N) was still looking down on the ground, scaring the hell out of him.
“Sweetheart,” Clint called out to her, adding; “This is not, this can not be the option.”
“You can’t leave us like this.” Wanda said, followed by Natasha: “You wouldn’t be the only one taking the hit, you know?”
“And you don’t have fight whatever it is, alone. We’re here-“
“You-you can’t fix this! Okay? There is n-nothing to stop it, I-I can’t keep waking every morning, feeling like a burden to all of you!”
“W-what? A burden? Do you have any idea, how fucking lost we would be without you?” Tony asked, raising his voice.
(Y/N) was like the glue holding the group together. She saw the good in everyone and brought out the best of them. She taught them how to be friends, family. She used to be a cheerful, hopeful girl filled with laughter, joy.
But it wasn’t the same anymore.
“Tony-“
“If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be living together at all.” Steve said.
“You are the reason we stand together, more than a team.” Wanda added, taking a step closer.
“A family.” Thor said, he had realized how important each member of the team got for him lately, they had became something else.
“And you need a reason to live? It’s family.” Tony said, even stepping closer.
She took a step closer to them to, even though she still was crying, and shaking in panic. Steve noticed her getting farther off the edge, so he took it as an advantage, and moved fast to grab her by the arm. Steve’s sudden move made her stumble backwards in fear, when she almost lost her balance, she tried to stand still by opening her arms; but it was too late. Her heel slipped, it all happend so fast she couldn’t function it. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she fell backwards into the darkness; Steve tried so hard to hold her hand, but only their fingertips met lightly.
Without any hesitation, Tony ran to the edge and jumped after her, everyone was so scared they ran up to the edge to see them.
Tony didn’t have his suit when he jumped, but he had to risk his suit not being fast enough. It was (Y/N). She was worth all the risks, he didn’t want to think how his life would be without her.
Tony’s suit met his body part by part in the air, when he was suited up fully, he flew faster to grab (Y/N). When they almost hit the ground, Tony held her in his arms in the last second before rising up high in the sky, landing back on the rooftop.
He kneeled down on the ground as he layed her down, checking for injuries. Everyone gathered around them, sitting down in a circle. (Y/N) was terrified; shaking so bad and hardly breathing.
“Hey, hey it’s alright. You’re safe.”
“Just breathe, (Y/N)- breathe…” They calmed her down slowly, than took her inside to get her a blanket and warm her up.
They sat by her, trying to talk to her, holding her until she stopped shaking. After a while her body shut down from that much stress and pain, she fell asleep on the couch and Steve carried her up to her room. They decided that they weren’t going to leave her alone, so they took turns. In the first night, Steve slept on her floor. The next night, it was Natasha who fell asleep right next to her. It went on and on no matter how bad she protested they didn’t have to. They talked to her, helped her, make her feel loved, safe.
It was hard; beating depression, believing life was worth living again. But being with them, it got easier. She started thinking time wasn’t the solution, or the cure. It’s family, she thought.
It took weeks, maybe months but she was better each day. They started to notice that she was smiling, laughing. She had good days, even though her bad ones. Time passed, and none of them left her side until she got through it all.
One morning, when they were walking towards the kitchen to have breakfast, Natasha heard her. She was cooking again, mumbling lyrics to some old rock song.
“Sssh!”
“Ssh what?” Steve whispered.
They all stood silent to hear her.
“She is singing again.” Tony smiled.
It used to be their tradition, (Y/N) would cook pancakes on sunday mornings. She loved to sing while doing so, they all remembered it.
They gave each other looks and small smiles, she was okay. She was better, and that was all that mattered; things could go back to the way it used to be.
They walked into the kitchen.
“Smells good in here!”
“You have no idea how much I missed your pancakes!”
(Y/N) watched them messing around, laughing as they started to help her make breakfast. It was that moment she knew; I’m okay…I’m home.
••••
a/n:please tell me what you think, I would love to hear them
“You know,” Tony starts, walking slowly beside Steve as they make their way out of the Avengers compound, “I need to take a page out of you and Barton’s book.”
Steve chuckles, resting his hands on his belt, “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I mean. Pep and I just can’t find the time to settle down, you know? She doesn’t want to give up control of Stark Industries and,” He peeks out over the rims of his expensive sunglasses at the tall blonde man, “You know me.” He shrugs.
Steve can’t help but smile, nodding his head in agreeance, “You do like a good party.”
The playboy shrugs, cocking his eyebrow and flashing that million dollar smile that Steve knows all too well. Tony tilts his wrist toward him, illuminating the state of the art Hublot watch, “You should get home to those babies. Take the Audi.”
He tosses the key fob haphazardly into the air, know that Steve will undoubtedly and skillfully catch it. He shoves his hands into his pockets and takes a step before Steve calls, “I can’t, Tony. I’ve got my bike.”
“Live a little, will ya?”
“Tony-“
The billionaire just lifts his hand into the air, continuing his stroll toward his own vehicle, “See you when I see you old man.”
Steve rolls his eyes but smiles all the way through, “Since when is a hundred old?” He calls loudly, “I feel like a teenager!”
“You look like one too.”
Steve watches for a few minutes more as Tony jumps behind the wheel of his other brand new, shiny Audi and speeds off down the dirt road. His blue green eyes land on the orange Audi R8. He takes a step toward it and quirks his eyebrow toward the sky as the engine automatically roars to life. He stops, and the car rolls toward him slowly, coming to a stop right at his feet. He starts walking toward the road and the car follows slowly beside him. He stops, and so does the car. Tony and his toys.
Steve slides behind the wheel and is soon twisting and turning his way through upstate New York. Autumn has fallen over the state with burnt orange and red leaves littering the ground as he burns across the pavement. He makes a left turn and makes his way down the familiar gravel road, his body relaxing as soon as their hideaway breaks into his view. It’s an old farmhouse that they are still, slowly working on, but it’s coming along. If aliens could just quit invading the city, he’d have some time to finish that playroom. He rolls to a slow stop in front of his humble abode and swings the door open, placing his feet on the grass. He lowers his head into his hands, finally taking a moment for himself. He’s home. Where he belongs.
He moves like a cat through the front yard and up the stairs of the porch, his heart fluttering all the while. He’s ready to hear their little voices. He steps through the front door and is met with a deafening silence. It makes him stop dead in his tracks. There’s no Spongebob from the tv, no music from the stereo, no screaming or fighting or laughing or crying. His wife’s heavy accent usually rings through the house but there’s nothing. He exhales slowly as the hair on his arms stands erect. It doesn’t feel right. He closes the door slowly behind him and immediately takes to the stairs, climbing them quickly and quietly, his ears and eyes honed in on any slight change in his atmosphere.
He hits the top step and moves toward their bedroom door which is slightly ajar. His mouth drops open as his breath becomes heavy. He pushes the door with his hand slowly, the contents of his bedroom slowly being revealed to him. His closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath as his wife’s sleeping form comes into view. She’s nestled in the middle of their king sized bed, completely surrounded by their four curly headed girls. Arms and legs and hair are strewn about, intertwined with each other like vines as they slumber. He’s been out there too long this time. Silence shouldn’t scare him like this. He moves into the room and drops to his knees at the side of the bed, stretching his hand toward Okoye’s pregnant belly. Baby number five. Another girl. He rubs her belly, closing his eyes again as he tries to calm himself down. You’re home Steve. You can act like it.
He pulls away from his wife and brushes some curly, light brown disheveled hair out of their youngests’ face. He smiles softly as he watches her, her pretty little lips murmuring slightly as she inhales deeply. Sarah. After his mother. She’s just barely two but is a force to be reckoned with. She’s sweet but strong, caring but intensely diplomatic. She’s an old soul. Next in line is three year old Amara; curled around her mother, her arms around her neck and chest, her sweet face buried in her mother’s neck. She takes after Steve the most. Her eyes are big and wide, a light hazel in color. Her dark, long eyelashes splay against her caramel skin as she inhales and exhales with all the calmness a person can muster. She’s tall for her age, agile, confident but shy. She’s quiet and brooding, always wanting to just do the right thing.
Ch’Tea and Kisani are on the other side of Okoye, nestled within each other. Twins. Their first borns. He remembers it like it was just yesterday. Okoye had been in labor for almost two days. Any longer, the doctors warned, and they had to take them out via surgery. Okoye refused adamantly. They’ll come when they come. It’s up to them. They handed him his babies just as that beautiful Wakandan sunset broke through the sky. That feeling of having them, his babies, something he helped create, in his arms was indescribable and irreplaceable. He’s done so many things, incredible things, otherwise impossible things. He’s been to so many places, seen more than what the history books can describe, but nothing holds up to that moment. Not even punching Adolf Hitler. He’d never known love; a true love, a lasting, living, breathing love until he met Okoye, but, he never knew an unconditional love, an unprovoked love, until he held those babies in his hands. Hisbabies.
He stands, shedding out the of the last remnants of Captain America and tosses them to the floor. It’s time to be daddy. He shrugs into his sweatpants and moves to the other side of their large crowded bed, his footsteps heavy against the wooden floor. He pats Bingo’s head, the chihuahua/terrier mix that wandered out the woods and into their backyard a few months ago, as he too sleeps comfortably at the end of the bed. Steve climbs over the small bodies of Ch’Tea and Kisani, his weight dipping the mattress as it creaks and squeaks under the added pressure. He settles next to his wife and brushes his lips over her forehead, closing his eyes again as he lets his body relax. He pulls the twins into him, pressing their warm bodies to his as his exhaustion quickly catches up with him.
A hand slinks around his neck protectively and her long fingers dig into his blonde hair, “I think I like Dolores for the little one.”
Her voice is soft and sleepy, wafting over him like a warm breeze. He chuckles lightly, replacing his hand on her budding stomach, “It’s growing on you, huh?” He whispers back.
She shrugs, never opening her eyes as she continues to massage his head lightly. She rests her free hand on Amara’s arm that’s slung across her chest as a smile spreads on her lips, “Yeah. Dolores Azzuri Rogers.”
He’s quiet for a few moments, letting the name move around his brain before he starts to give in to the sleep, “It’s perfect.” He exhales.
Sarah begins to stir beside her mother, humming softly as her father’s voice breaks into her subconscious. She sits up quickly, rubbing at her eyes furiously before swiping her small, chubby hand across her forehead. She turns her head, her eyes still half closed as she begins to whine softly, “Mama…”
“Shhhh,” Steve coos softly, opening his eyes slightly as he tries to calm her, “It’s okay baby girl.”
“Daddy.” She reaches for him, extending her arms and flexing her fingers toward him, “Hol’ me daddy.”
Steve obliges, sitting up a little to pull her gently over her sleeping sister and mother. He finds a small space between himself, Okoye, and Ch’Tea and Kisani, and settles her down, draping his large arm over the three of them, “My sweet, sweet Sarah baby.” He whispers, tickling her stomach and smiling as her little giggle fills the quiet room, “You like the name Dolores?”
She nods sleepily, twisting her body to face her sleeping twin sisters and father, “You like, daddy?”
“I do.”
“You mama?”
Okoye nods softly, “I love it.”
“Then I like too. You pick middle yet?”
“Azzuri.” Okoye answers, “You know who that is?”
“Nuh uh.” The young girl answers as she lifts Steve’s hand in the air, intertwining her little fingers with his before tracing the lines on his palm.
“That is your uncle T’Challa’s grandfather.” Steve answers, pulling her hand toward his lips to kiss every last one of her chubby fingers, “He was a king.”
“And he was the fiercest Black Panther there ever was. He never lost a battle.” Okoye finishes, “Uncle T’Challa loved him dearly.”
Sarah brings her father’s hand to her own lips and plants a kiss in his palm, smiling as she’s rewarded with a chuckle from him. The young girl yawns sweetly and cuddles into her sisters, rubbing her hand against Steve’s skin as she drifts back into a peaceful sleep. Okoye turns her head toward his and plants a small kiss on the tip of his nose as best she can, “You’re home now, right?” She questions, her voice still soft, “No more avenging until after Dolores is here?”
“I’m all yours, doll.”
She smiles again. He returns a soft kiss on her cheek and nuzzles into Kisani’s hair as Ch’Tea wraps her small hand around his bicep. The parents drift off to sleep again, comfortable and warm, surrounded by their babies.
Summary: Sexy times with the Super Soldiers: the sequel.
Warnings: 18+, Stucky, Pet names, Daddy!Bucky, Captain!Steve, explicit words, smut, teasing, Bucky Barnes’ fucking arm, choking, Dom!Bucky, Dom!Steve, so much dirty talk :), fingering, unprotected intercourse (like sperm in vagina unprotected), daddy kink (beware: this is my first time writing it), captain kink, sub!reader, degradation (but in a cute way???), threesome, blowjob, hair pulling. Let me know if you find more.
Notes: This is filth…I’m gonna go now, I’ll see you at the end of it (leave me some feedback, if you feel like it).
Have fun ;)
P.s.: English is not my first language, soooo ehehehe, please don’t judge me too harshly.
A beat passes, you’ve barely sucked in enough oxygen, before you feel the grips at your neck tightening again.
“Hands and knees, darling, c’mon.”
Your mind is still hazy, clouded by the aftermath of the first orgasm of the night. You know there are many more to come and the knowledge has you growing wetter by the second. Steve leans back, runs his finger over your stomach, spreading around the come that wasn’t soaked up by your panties and when his eyes find yours, the smile that spreads on his face is enough to get your desire flaring up again.
Sucking in some more much needed air, you glance at Bucky, whose hand is still around your neck; he grins down at you, all cheeky and taunting as he waits for you to ask. He loves the way you lick your lips, glance away for a beat only to bring your gaze back on his when you have to ask, “Can I please get up, Daddy?”
Steve’s finger traces its way down to your sopping lips, playing in your juices as he watches you interact with Bucky.
“Sure thing, doll.” He leans down to press a peck to your temple, “Ass up, dollface, lemme see Cap fuck that tight cunt. Put on a show for Daddy.”
So you do, you sit up, the silky robe pooling at your waist as you reach for Steve’s hard chest and ghost your fingers along his pecs and down to his abs, enjoying the way the muscles tighten under your touch. There’s a light sheen of sweat starting to cover the warm expanse of muscle, and you lean closer; tongue snaking out to pepper kitten licks along his neck.
The hand that isn’t playing with your clit wraps around your neck; you gasp as he pulls you up until you’re face to face with him, lips brushing as he speaks.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, darling.” A slap connects with your thigh; a stinging reminder of what happens when you don’t do as you’re told.
You pull back when he releases his hold, look up into the Captain’s darkening gaze, and turn around to face Bucky who’s now leaning against the pillows; teeth worrying his lips as he admires your breasts and aching nipples. You move to settle between his parted thighs, hands running up the fabric of his jeans to settle on either side of his hips. Bucky’s hands are behind his head, a clear indication that he plans on enjoying the show for a while.
Steve’s hand connecting with your left ass cheek makes you yelp in surprise, hips thrusting forward as you subconsciously try to pull away. When you glance at him over your shoulder, you find his gaze locked on his best friend as he smacks your other cheek.
You groan at the sting, but this time you push back against him, wordlessly asking for more.
“Hum, you ready for me, darling? Ready for my cock?” You nod your head, biting your bottom lip as you rub your ass against his crotch, whining at the barely there stimulation you get. His hips pull back and he lightly taps your sopping core, “Look at you, so wet and willing. Just wanna be filled up, don’t ya?”
“Yes, please. Give it to me, Captain, fill me up.”
You grind back against his hand, shamelessly spreading your wetness on his fingers as you go. His thick fingers push past your lips, teasing your bundle of nerves for a second before he enters you and you groan your appreciation; back arching deeper as your arms give up, forcing you to press your face against Bucky’s jean-clad thigh.
“How’s that pussy feel, Stevie?” The question has Steve pushing in another finger, further stretching your walls to prepare you to take him.
“Oh, you’re gonna love this, Buck. She’s so fucking wet already; clenching down so hard.”
You moan, listening to the filthy words and shivering at the way they speak of you, of your body. Bucky brings his hand to your head, carding his fingers through your hair for a second, before he fists the strands and lifts you up to look him in the eye.
“Feel good, doll? You enjoying Cap’s fingers fucking ya?” Your teeth sink down in your bottom lip, eyes rolling back in your head as Steve brushes the spot inside you that has you seeing stars. You’re already so close again, it’s embarrassing.
“Oh God, yes. Feels so-oh good, Daddy, please.” Bucky leans up, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “Ya know, if you beg nicely enough he might even let you come on them.” He chuckles then, bringing your head back to his lap as he relaxes against the pillows once more.
Another smack is delivered to your bottom, eliciting a whine past your panting lips as you beg Steve for more, your walls clamping around his digits, “Can I come for you, Cap? Please, I’ll be so good, can I co-oh fuck! Please.”
Your body shudders as you try to hold back, waiting for his say so. Nails dig in Bucky’s leg when Steve laughs darkly, slowing his pace and focusing on your g-spot. Your legs start shaking with the effort to keep your ass in place and you almost cry in relief when Steve wraps his free arm around your midriff, hand coming to rest against your stomach. He lifts you up, your back pressed to his damp chest as he keeps finger-fucking you.
“Ain’t she pretty like this, Buck?” His question is answered by a grunt, Bucky’s eyes devouring your body as he sheds himself of the layers of clothing and fists his dick. Your mouth waters at the sight of the black metal gliding over his come slickened shaft.
“Uhm, you like that, don’t you, darling? Huh? Like Daddy watching you being such a little whore for me?” Your ass presses back against him, answering his questions as you grind up and down his dick; your walls clench around his fingers again, alerting him of your pending release.
“Mmhm, yes, always. Always your dirty, little whore, Captain. Let me come? Please?”
“Go ahead, darling. Keep your eyes on him and come for me.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your walls start spasming before he finishes the sentence; body going limp in his arms as your hips keep bucking against his thrusting fingers. You’re still coming when he retrieves his digits, a disappointed plea the only thing you manage to muster up, but then his cock is teasing your entrance and he thrusts inside in one go, filling you up as your walls are still clenching and prolonging your orgasm.
“That’s it-fuck, darling, always feel so fucking good.” Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder as he starts moving inside you. Slowly rocking you back and forth.
“You want a taste, pal?”
The question has you opening your eyes right in time to see the brunette coming to his knees in front of you, eyes boring into his best friend’s ones. “Yeah, don’t be greedy, punk.”
You melt when his chest presses to yours, your hard, aching nipples rubbing against his pecs with every thrust of Steve’s hips. Bucky’s hand cups the other man’s cheek, pulling him into a kiss over your shoulder. He moans in Steve’s mouth, biting down on his bottom lip before he suckles on it. They make it look so pretty and so dirty; their kisses are always a clash of teeth and a rolling of wet, needy tongues. The sight has you bringing your hand back to your pulsing clit.
“Mmm, taste even better on Cap’s lips, dollface.” You glance back over your shoulder to find Steve giving you a shit-eating grin, and you realize exactly what Bucky was tasting: Steve must’ve sucked your come off his fingers.
The praise has goosebumps rising on your skin.
“Thank you, Daddy.” He hums his acknowledgement; hands running along your sides before they cup your breasts and you keen at the touch. You’re torn between pushing back against Steve’s thrusting hips, or forward towards Bucky’s exploring hands.
At the same time, Steve slaps your hand off your clit and Bucky pinches a nipple; the sleekness of the metal fingers adding another layer to the overwhelming amount of feelings driving you crazy.
You whimper your approval, eyes begging Bucky as he leans down to pull one nipple inside his hot mouth. He smiles up at you, flashing you his teeth for a second before they are sinking down in your flesh, inflicting just enough pain for more slick to gush around Steve’s dick, and now it’s the blonde’s turn to moan in approval. Your hands fly to Bucky’s hair as he reserves the same treatment to your other breast, groaning against it when you tangle your fingers in the strands and pull.
Now that Bucky’s body is holding you up, Steve brings his fingers to your lips, teasing them open and you gladly accept; running your tongue around his fingers the way you know he likes you to.
“Need something to suck on, huh? C’mon then, wanna see you choke on Daddy’s dick.”
That grabs Bucky’s attention, who lets go of your nipple and sits back on the bed, grinning happily as Steve places a hand on your lower back and bends you to his will.
Your cheek presses to Bucky’s thigh, and you allow yourself to enjoy the skin-on-skin contact for a couple of seconds, before you nuzzle his cock and slyly look up at him with parted lips and innocent eyes.
“Fuck, Stevie, look at her. So fucking obedient.”
“Only for you, Daddy.”
The answer earns you a hard thrust by Steve; he stills, buried deep inside you until you glance back at him apologetically. “Ah-both of you. Fuck, both of you, Captain, please.”
“Mmhm, less talking, more sucking.”
Your hips wiggle against him to persuade him to start moving again, but instead he leans over you, his chest flush to your back and wraps his right hand around Bucky’s cock, stroking him a couple of times before directing him to your lips.
“Open up wide, darling. Yeah, that’s it. Such a good fucking girl for us.”
You thank him around the mouthful; the vibration of your words causing Bucky to jerk up, but Steve’s hand still wrapped at the base of his cock keeps him down. You peer up at the brunette, eyeing him as you start gently suckling on the head.
“Ugh, fuck’n- shit!”
Steve removes his hand and you switch, bobbing your head as both your eyes and Steve’s keep feasting on the pleasure ridden expression colouring Bucky’s face. A long string of Russian tumbles past his lips, and Steve twitches inside you not even a second before your walls clench down in response.
“You’re such a sucker for her pretty mouth.”
“Fuck. Off. Punk.”
Each word is punctuated by a thrust as Bucky brings his hand to your head, holding you still as he starts to fuck your mouth, slowly going further on each push. Steve cackles, pressing a kiss to your hollowed cheek before he pushes back to his knees and resumes fucking your drenched pussy.
He starts with a soft grind, testing your steadiness as you’re pushed and pulled on them, and once he’s satisfied you can still hold yourself upright, he sets a hard pace; each thrust ending with a dirty roll of his hips when they’re flush against your ass.
You lose yourself between them. Eyes closing as you bask in Steve’s wandering hands - moving, exploring every inch he can reach - and the filthy, lewd praises falling from both men.
“Look so pretty choking on Daddy’s dick.”
“Fuck yeah- cunt sucking me in so nicely, darling.”
“Taking me so good, doll. Gon’ make me come down your thro-oh fuck.”
“My pretty, little whore. Look at you, being fucked on each end, you like that, huh?”
You’re a mumbling mess, moaning your agreements and whining your pleas as you feel another orgasm approaching.
“Hold it. Don’t you dare come yet.”
Bucky is the first to reach his climax. He fists your hair, pulls you close until the light smattering of hair tickles your nose, and groans long and deep; hips jerking lightly as he starts spilling inside your mouth. Steve stops, watches at first until he leans back down, bringing his hand to your neck.
“Shit, Buck. Can feel you in her throat.” With that Bucky pushes one last time, letting you clean him off with tiny, delicate, kitten licks.
Your hips roll back, alerting Steve that you’re ready for him to continue at the same time as Bucky pulls you off; a string of your saliva and his come connecting your swollen lips to his sensitive cock. He moans his praise, resting his ass against the pillows as Steve takes over and pulls you back upright.
His pace is faster now, fucking into you with a renewed vigour as he chases his own release.
Fingers tangled in your messy hair, he angles your face to kiss you hard; tongue pushing past your lips to taste his best friend. His other hand is hooked in the elastic of your panties, using it as leverage as he moves you along his cock, manoeuvring your body and setting the rhythm to his liking. He slows down every time you clench tight around him, bringing you down from your impending high.
“Harder, Stevie. Oh fuck- give it to me, please. Fuck your dirty whore, Captain.”
He grunts at the sound of his name on your breathy, needy moans; the silky robe sticking to your sweaty bodies as he grants your wishes and you melt against him. The elastic snaps on your hip and a growl tears past Steve’s lips and lands on the damp skin of your cheek, his hands both settle on your hips to pull you against his rocking body as he pushes forward faster on each thrust.
Bruises will surely adorn your skin and you already know, you’ll spend your morning marvelling at them.
The feeling of another set of hands on your scorching body has you opening your eyes to find Bucky on his knees again, moving to mold his chest to yours. His metal fingers return to torment your breasts, rolling, pulling, tweaking your nipples until you moan his name, begging for his lips.
He grins at you, slow, seductive and taunting before he brushes the softest of pecks on the tip of your nose, and his right hand wraps gently around your neck, holding you flush to Steve. His thumb presses past your parted lips, teasing your tongue before you start nipping and sucking on it.
“So damn tight. Gon’ make me c-shit.”
“Do it, Stevie.”
Bucky’s attention turns to his best friend, tendrils of his chestnut hair tickling your cheek and jaw as he leans over your shoulder to whisper to him; voice low and husky, honey-coated by the need cursing through his veins. You shudder at the pants hitting your skin.
“Come inside her, Cap. Fill her up and pass her to me. I’ll make sure to fuck your come deep inside that pretty cunt of hers.”
His words are your undoing. Your body seizes up; lips parted as you orgasm harder than you did all night. You claw at Bucky’s back, shoulders, arm, anything you manage to get your hands on, and he chuckles in your ear, holding your shaking body still as Steve comes inside you with a wanton, broken moan.
Somewhere, under the lust clouding your brain, you realize you need air and start drawing in deep, long breaths trying to calm down your racing heart as you fill in your lungs.
Steve and Bucky are kissing over your shoulder again, you glance at them from the corner of your eye, enjoying the feeling of being held up by them and whimpering as the blonde starts thrusting minutely after completely emptying himself. They pull back for air, with ragged breaths and rosy cheeks; they recover way quicker than you - damned super soldiers – and their plump lips attack your neck.
You close your eyes, revelling in the soft caresses of their mouths, the gentle flickers of their tongues and the light nips of their teeth. Your breathing quickens again, you bring your hands to their hair, carding through short blonde strands and tugging on longer chestnut locks. Bucky leans back, catches your eyes in his mesmerising ones and smiles.
Word count: 2110 (these are getting longer and longer, sorry)
Summary: Sexy times with the Super Soldiers.
Warnings: 18+, Pet names, Daddy!Bucky, Captain!Steve (is this a thing?) explicit words, smut, teasing, Bucky Barnes’ fucking arm, chocking I guess, Dom!Bucky, Dom!Steve, so much dirty talk :), fingering, hints to unprotected intercourse, daddy kink (beware: this is my first time writing it), captain kink, sub!reader, masturbation, threesome. Let me know if you find more.
Notes: You may wonder what this is, the answer to that is, once again, I don’t know :).
The gentle light from the candle flickers on the walls, creating soft shadows in the otherwise dark room. You can feel the silky fabric of the robe you’re wearing tickling your skin, caressing it with every twitch of your muscles. Your nerve endings are on fire, crackling on each movement, each lungful of air; your mouth feels dry and you swallow again for the 5th time in the last couple of seconds.
“Look at that. So fucking wet, darling.”
Teeth sinking in your bottom lip, you nod to Steve even though his words are not meant as a question; eyes begging him for something, anything. The way he’s looking at you, the sound of his voice - almost as wrecked as you feel - the words he normally chastises you for falling from his bitten lips, every single thing has more slick gathering between your thighs.
“You like this, don’t ya? Being watched as you fuck yourself?”
Bucky’s voice is darker, smugness dripping from the words because he already knows, but he loves the way you get flustered; the way you look away from his eyes in embarrassment.
His teasing elicits twin groans from you and the blonde sitting next to him. They’re both at the foot of the bed, shoulder to shoulder as they watch with rapt attention how your fingers press inside of your pussy.
Your legs are spread open, knees bent as you lean back on the pillows Bucky has lovingly set against the headboard. They love your eyes on them, get off on having you watch the way you affect them as you pleasure yourself. Steve’s hand moves to the prominent tent in his slacks, palms it for just a second as another guttural groan escapes his mouth at the wet sound of your lips accommodating your fingers.
“She looks good, doesn’t she, Stevie? Pretty pussy peeking through the lace?”
Steve brings his eyes to yours, watches as you plead with him for more. You can tell that if it was up to him alone, he’d already be balls deep inside you, but Bucky enjoys the teasing.
“Fuck yeah, she does. You know she does.”
His sky-blue eyes darken a little more as he turns to catch his best friend’s gaze. They stare at one another for a moment, and then Steve’s eyes glance to Bucky’s lips as they curve up in that grin that never fails to bring either of you to your knees.
A frustrated whine slips out of you when Bucky’s metal hand wraps around Steve’s throat. You feel the green-eyed monster rear up its head at the sight of the black contrasting so prettily against Steve’s flushed skin.
“Wanna fuck her, Stevie?”
“Taste her. She’s so wet, smells so fucking sweet.”
Yes, please. Another whimper, your hips buck up at the suggestions; either of them would be more than welcome since your fingers are not cutting it anymore. You feel Steve’s fingers caressing up your foot, but you know better than to move. You keep still, breath stuck in your lungs as his fingers wrap around your ankle. Bucky mirrors his actions and they jerk your legs apart a little more. You yelp in surprise at the sudden movement.
“Oh, she smells delicious, a’ight. And your face does look real fucking pretty framed by her legs.”
Steve’s hand goes back to palming his dick and Bucky chuckles allowing his eyes to follow the gesture. You would protest at the loss of contact if your own eyes weren’t greedily soaking up the erotic scene before them.
Bucky tsks, metal hand gliding up his friend’s neck to land on his cheek; fingers softly sinking into Steve’s stubbly skin while his thumb caresses his bottom lip.
“You want it bad, don’t ya?”
Steve barely nods, doesn’t even need to because Bucky can read it all on his face. His tongue pokes out of his parted lips, tip grazing Bucky’s thumb and it’s the brunette’s turn to bite back a groan.
“See whatcha did, dollface? Got Cap here all wound up for you.”
Bucky’s silvery gaze finds yours, and you swallow again at the dryness in your mouth as all moisture keeps gathering south. He smiles at you, all soft and warm, and the complete opposite of his words and the dark promises in his eyes.
“What do you suggest we do about that, hum?”
Your eyes go back to Steve’s form, wander over his body, from his chiselled face down to where his hand is still squeezing his cock. You wish you could undress them with your thoughts alone.
Before you can answer, Steve interrupts you.
“Keep fucking yourself, darling.”
Bucky kinks an eyebrow disapprovingly and you realise that sometime, as you lost yourself watching them interact, you’d stopped moving your fingers. Not that anyone can blame you; your boys are just too fucking pretty.
You resume your teasing, because that is all you can really do with your underwear still on, but Steve likes it. He likes to see your skin adorned by the lace as you touch yourself; that’s the reason behind it overflowing your underwear drawer.
Eyes apologetic, you push and pull, turning your attention back to Bucky.
“Whatever you want, just…do something.”
Steve squeezes himself a little harder at your breathy voice, and switches hands so that he can bring his left one back on your leg. This time it rests a little higher, grasping at your calf as he eyes your body hungrily.
“Whatever we want? Oh, dollface, you sure you can take it all? Takeusboth?”
You nod, fingers quickening slightly when your mind starts conjuring up images of what Bucky’s words might entail.
“Yeah? Gon let us have our way with ya?”
Bucky’s voice is even deeper than before, getting huskier by the second and Steve moans at his words, unbuttoning his pants. Fucking finally.
“Yeah. Yes, Bucky, please.”
They move at the same time, shifting closer to your body and you can finally feel the heat radiating off of them. Steve’s hand is now on your thigh, fingers moving along the inner muscle until it quivers with anticipation. He grins at you, all boyish and carefree with a barely concealed hint of mischief.
The black, hard metal of Bucky’s hand makes contact with your tummy, forefinger tracing your navel as you marvel at the light reflecting off the gold decorating the arm. Your quick intake of breath pleases him and he leans closer until he’s face to face with your heating cheeks.
“What d’ya need, dollface, huh?”
Biting down on your bottom lip, you let the hand that was clenching the sheets move to find his, fingers wrapping around his wrist to urge him to speed up in his ascent towards your breasts.
“I want you to fuck me. Need it so bad, please.”
“Always so fucking polite, darling. So fucking pretty for us.”
Steve tugs on your wrist and your fingers easily slip from inside you; the panties’ elastic gently slapping back into place. Both yours and Bucky’s eyes are glued to the blonde as he brings your fingers to his mouth and sucks them in, eyes closing in delight when your juices reach his tastebuds.
Heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise silent room until he releases your fingers with a lewd pop, bringing your hand to his chest before letting go of your wrist. He moves then, settles between your parted thighs and that seems to be Bucky’s cue to focus his attention back on you.
“Want Cap’s cock, dollface? Want him to fuck you?”
‘Cap’, you know what that means and you moan your answer, a broken ‘yeah’ that has Steve hurriedly pushing his zipper down and rising to his knees to shove the pants out of the way. Humour is coating the brunette’s voice when he wraps his hand around your throat and a desperate whine slips past your glistening, bite-swollen lips.
“And what about me, huh?”
“Want you too; want both, please.”
Unable to stop yourself, you glance at Steve as he’s unbuttoning his shirt, gaping at the expanse of muscle being revealed and hoping for him to lose the boxers a little bit quicker. He smiles when he catches your eyes, discarding the material aside and grabbing his cock again.
“Gon let Daddy fuck that pretty, little mouth of yours, darling?”
Oh. Stunned into silence, you keep your eyes glued to him until Bucky’s fingers tighten around your neck, effectively diverting your attention; claiming it back as his own.
“Answer him, dollface, gonna let me fuck your mouth?”
“Yes, Captain. Wanna feel Daddy down my throat.”
Both men moan at your words, Steve shifting until his hips are bracketed by your thighs; his cock now free and resting on your panty-clad pussy. He rocks forwards once, creating such delicious friction on your clit that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“Look at you, doll. You just wanna be a good girl for us, don’t ya?”
“Uh huh. I'mma be a good girl, Daddy. I’ll be your best girl.”
Steve ruts against you again, hands hot on your thighs, using the hold for leverage and pulling your body down as he surges up. Your thoughts scatter all over the place; mouth falling open on panted nonsense and pleas.
“Oh, we know you will. Now c'mon, darling, give me one before I fill this pretty pussy up.”
Groaning your understanding, you clench the sheets in one hand, bringing the other to Bucky’s forearm for something sturdier to hold onto as his best friend keeps rocking you back and forth.
“You want that, doll? Want Cap to come inside that tight, little pussy of yours?”
“Oh God, yes! Want it so bad. Fuck, Captain, don’t stop, please.”
He quickens his pace, his cock catching in your panties until Bucky reaches over and pulls them to the side, baring your pussy to his friend before bringing his hand back to your throat.
“You hear that, Stevie? Think we spoiled her too much.”
Steve grunts something that you can’t quite make out, but Bucky seems to understand him just fine if his chuckle is any indication.
“Bet you want Daddy to fuck your pussy, too. Don’t you, doll? Cause one’s not enough for you anymore, is it?”
You hear rustling and open your eyes to see Bucky stroking himself through his jeans. Without waiting for his say so, you reach over and unsteadily unbutton and unzip them for him. He pulls his cock out and you take over again, thumb collecting the warm precome before you start stroking him as best as you can.
Steve leans over then, his skin hot as it barely grazes your rising chest on each intake of breath. They’re shoulder to shoulder again, Steve’s nuzzling your neck on the right, while Bucky is still upright, leaving room for you to work on his cock.
“Is that true, darling? You gon let Daddy fuck this pussy when I’m done with it? Let him use my come as lube? Is that what you want?”
A fresh wave of slick coats Steve’s cock after he husks the filthy words in your ear; his hand joining Bucky’s around your throat so that they’re both framing your neck.
You groan something intelligible because you’re too far gone; hips thrusting up knowing that you need just one more push and you’ll tumble over the edge. Bucky groans, his fingers twitch against your heated skin before he turns to face Steve.
“Fuck. That’s so fucking nasty, Stevie.”
“Shut up, you love it and, from the way she just flooded by dick, she does too.”
“I do. I do, please Captain. Would be so hot, to have you and Daddy filling me up, fucking my pussy ‘til I’m full and leaking on the sheets.”
You bring your unoccupied hand to the back of Steve’s head, keeping him close to you as his hips rut faster against your swollen clit. Bucky’s free hand wraps over yours and helps guide it as your body begins to turn to mush; all muscles slackening with the fast approach of your orgasm.
“Oh fuck! Fuck, I’m com-”
The words die on a silent scream when you convulse underneath Steve, feeling his left hand clutching your thigh while his body seizes up and a long, drawn out groan leaves his parted lips. Bucky fucks up one last time into your fists, and comes with a soft, almost inaudible moan that sears itself in your brain.
A beat passes, you’ve barely sucked in enough oxygen, before you feel the grips at your neck tightening again.
“Hands and knees, darling, c’mon.”
More notes, cause why the heck not?: Please consider leaving me some feedback? Maybe? You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it. Thank you for reading in any case :)
Request: Could I possibly get a sequel to Mermaid? Possibly using powers or diving off a tall bridge/into water to save someone? Possibly sunken car or child in danger?
Warning(s): None
A/N: Again, I apologize for the late post. I had work yesterday and was unable to upload this work. I hope you enjoy!
After Steve Rogers found out that you were a mermaid, he also discovered the fact that you had powers as well. You thought that if Steve knew your biggest secret, you might as well show him the powers that you also had from being a mermaid. He thought that it was really cool, and fell in love with you even more.
Steve always claimed that you were his hero. You never really thought that you were much of a hero because outside of being a normal human being, you were a mermaid. You didn’t really know what a mermaid did except just swim around with the fish.
Every weekend Steve would take you out on a date. This weekend, he didn’t tell you what the plan was. All he said was to meet at a certain location at a certain time. You did as he said and met at the bridge he instructed you to meet at.
As you arrived, you saw that there were candles lit all along the wall of the bridge. It was romantic. You already knew what was going to happen. You started making your way onto the bridge, and you finally noticed Steve in the middle of the bridge. He had a bright smile on and held a bouquet of flowers.
“You look beautiful [Y/N].”
“You don’t look too bad yourself Steve,” You teased flirtatiously. You walked up to him and he handed you the flowers. “Thanks Steve. This is a cute date.”
Steve nodded and placed a small kiss on your nose. He turned and moved a few candles off the bridge. He assisted you onto the bridge and you sat down on the edge with your legs dangling off the edge. Steve soon followed and sat beside you, his legs dangling off the edge as well. You laid your head on his shoulder as you looked out into the sunset.
“I love you [Y/N],” Steve softly whispered, laying his head against yours. You smiled. “I hope you know that I always will.”
“I’ll always love you too Steve.”
All of a sudden, you heard a faint noise. You looked around, but couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from. You looked down, gasping at the sight of a little boy struggling to stay above the water. The water was moving quick below the bridge. You looked over at Steve who seemed unaware of the situation.
You spun around and got off the bridge. Steve raised an eyebrow, asking what you were doing. You didn’t respond and jumped over the edge of the bridge. Steve watched you fall from the high ledge. You did a few flips in the air before finding the right position. You gracefully dove into the water.
You immediately transformed in the water. You knew that there was a huge waterfall at the end of the river. As you were swimming to look for the boy, you noticed that the water was moving at a lot faster rate than you expected. You just hoped that the little boy didn’t hit his head on a rock or anything.
You swam to the top, still being taken by the river toward the large water fall. You scanned the area, instantly noticing the little boy. He was gasping for air, but a large wave came and swallowed him back up. You nodded and dove back into the water. You used all the strength of your mermaid tail to swim to the little boy. As you got to him, you saw that he was passed out.
You gripped onto his body and closed your eyes. It was time for you to use your powers. As you held onto the child, you used your free arm to make the movements that was required to move the water. You soon started to feel yourself get elevated out of the water. Steve watched in awe from above as he saw the water practically carry you and a little boy out of the water.
You delicately placed you and the little boy onto the land. The water returned to the river and you looked over at the child. He still didn’t seem like he was breathing. You dragged yourself over to him since your legs haven’t returned yet. An idea soon came to your mind. You wondered if you could get you and the little boy out of the water, you thought you could get the water out of the little boy’s lungs.
You placed your hand on his chest and closed your eyes once more. Your eyebrows furrowed as you focused. You finally found the correct mindset and the little boy suddenly sat up, spitting out the extra water that was stuck in his lungs. You smiled as you saw that he was breathing again.
“Wh-What happened?” The little boy coughed, looking over at you. Luckily, your legs were able to return before he saw you as a mermaid. “W-Who are you?”
“She’s the woman who saved your life,” A voice said. You turned around, seeing that Steve had arrived to the scene. “Her name is [Y/N].”
“You saved me?” The little boy asked, his face lighting up with a smile. “You’re my hero!”
The little boy threw himself and hugged you tightly. You chuckled as you hugged him back. You looked up at Steve who had a genuine smile on his face as he saw the happiness you brought to the little boy. It was another thing Steve loved about you, you wouldn’t hesitate to help someone in need. He was glad that you had another person think that you were their hero. He just hoped that you always knew that Steve was always going to be your number one supporter.
Summary: Peter and his best friend [Y/N] get a hold of a time machine and accidentally send themselves back to a time where their leader was in high school. Problems occur when [Y/N] finds herself to be the dame that Steve falls for instead of his high school sweetheart, Peggy.
Word Count: 1.2K
Tag list status: Open
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Peter has messed many times in his life, but this mistake took the cake. Steve turned around and stormed out of the room, his pulse rising, while Peter’s heart had dropped to his knees. Peggy clung onto Peter’s arm, ready to express more of her appreciation, but Peter had cut her off short and pulled away from her. Peggy kept her gaze upon Peter, not even noticing the fact that Steve had walked in on them.
Peter quickly excused himself from Peggy. He couldn’t even bare to look at her any longer. He just did something that he harped on you not to do earlier today. Peggy trailed behind him as he made it back into the theater. Peter caught the sight of Steve climbing back into his seat that was beside you. Steve turned his head, and noticed that Peter was staring at him.
Peter hurried his way back to his seat, which was on the other side of you. Peggy was pulled aside by her friends who wondered where her date went. Peter kept his eyes on Steve as he made his way back to his seat. Steve looked over to the side and made eye contact with Peter. Peter was about to explain himself, but Steve scoffed at him and stood up from his seat.
You looked over at Steve who was leaving his seat. You raised an eyebrow in confusion, only to feel the presence of Peter arriving back in his spot. You turned your head to see that Peter looked more worried than usual.
“Are you okay Peter?” you asked, observing his disturbed facial expression. You turned to see where Steve was going, only to notice that Peggy’s date had disappeared. “Also, where did Peggy’s date go?”
“Okay, long story short, I might have kissed Peggy.”
“YOU WHAT?!”
You turned your head once more, to see Peggy smiling over at Peter. Peter leaned forward and looked at Peggy who immediately looked away, giggling with her friends when he caught her staring at him You sighed and turned back to face Peter who was now completely tomato red. You pinched the bridge of your nose.
“How did that even happen?” You asked, swinging your eyes back up to meet with his. “You know what, it’s fine. You just need to tell her you’re not interested, and it’s the end of that story.”
Peter remained silent as you suggested that plan. You expected an answer but didn’t receive one. All Peter did was just blankly stare at you.
“Peter? Are you even going to respond?” You asked, expressing your concern. “You’re worrying me. Please don’t say that you’re actually falling in love with Peggy.”
“No, I’m far from that [Y/N],” Peter said, shaking his head. His eyes lowered from yours. “I just feel bad for Steve having to walk in like that. The last thing I wanted was to hurt his feelings.”
“Peter, it’s okay, you just need to fix it,” You said, patting him on the shoulder. “Once we have it fixed, everything will go back to normal.”
Peter looked over your shoulder and saw Peggy leaving the theater with her group of friends. Peter excused himself, claiming that he was going to confront her about his feelings. You nodded as Peter got out of aisle and went out the exit to find Peggy. As for you, your remained in your seat, wondering if the future Steve was trying to figure out a way to get you and Peter back.
You thought about the consequences that would come if he were to bring you and Peter back right now. Would Steve not even know you? Or even worse, you wouldn’t even know Peter if Steve and Peggy didn’t meet. You knew that there was going to be a bad ripple effect if Peggy fell in love with Peter.
Whilst in the midst of your thoughts, you saw a figure beginning to climb back in through the aisle. You turned your head, only to see that Steve had gotten concessions. The men of the other girls dates were all seated ahead of you, which meant Steve had to climb through them to get to you. He had a large bag of popcorn and a large drink in both hands. You offered to assist him, but he claimed that he was fine.
You nodded in response, but the second that he got closer, that was when the thought popped into your mind. This was the moment where he got his first kiss from Peggy. Before you could move, you heard the yelp of Steve as he was tripped. The buttery popcorn flew everywhere, landing all over you, as well as the sticky substance of the soda.
You shrieked in disgust as it soaked in through your clothes. Steve had caught himself, but that resulted in you getting the short end. Steve gasped as he saw he completely drenched you in the popcorn and soda. You wiped the soda away from your eyes, seeing him sit down beside you.
“I’m so sorry [Y/N]!” Steve shouted, brushing off the kernels off your shoulder. “I-I wasn’t paying attention and—”
As Steve was blabbering his apology to you, Peter had come back from chasing after Peggy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to find Peggy. Her and her group of friends had completely disappeared when he went into the hallway to try and find her. His plan to confront her was destroyed, but it didn’t compare to the stress he felt when he saw that you were covered in popcorn and soda from head to toe.
Peter knew exactly what was about to come. Peter rushed over back to his seat, hoping that he was going to show up in time to save you. But instead of saving the situation, Peter had worsened it. While you were still trying to get the popcorn out of your hair, you didn’t notice that Peter had returned.
On the other hand, Steve did, and he still was infuriated with him. Steve caught a glimpse of Peter approaching you, and didn’t hesitate with the evil thought that entered his mind. Steve knew that Peter liked you, just like Peter knew that Steve liked Peggy. Steve thought of the broken heart that Peter gave to him, which meant that he wanted to return the favor.
With revenge in Steve’s heart, he leaned forward and clashed his lips upon your lips that had the sweet taste of soda. You stiffened up as you felt Steve’s lips press against yours. What you feared the most, was happening, and you weren’t able to process the fact that you were being kissed by your captain! You broke the kiss off, soon feeling a hand wrap around your arm.
Your breath began to become heavy as thoughts raced through your mind. The situation worsened. Not only did Peggy kiss Peter, but now you had kissed Steve. Your wide eyes pierced into Steve’s soft blue ones that were glaring at you in admiration. You could tell from the look that he found that kiss to be more than he expected.
“I uh, I need—”
Before you could speak anymore, Peter had yanked you out of your seat. Steve watched as you were being dragged out of the theater by Peter. Steve wanted that kiss to be revenge for finding Peter kissing his girl, but little did Steve know, he enjoyed that kiss. The kiss sparked something in Steve that he never knew he had. Steve had fallen in love, and you were the one who stole his heart.
Summary: You are helped through Steve Rogers’ funeral.
Warnings: it sucks because it’s a funeral (?) and some language (Minors DNI)
The phone rings in your hotel room. Loudly. Louder than a fucking bomb going off, and you want to scream. It didn’t wake you. You’ve been staring at the wall, tucked under the covers for who knows how long.
Exasperated, you roll over to pick up the receiver, but say nothing.
“Hey,” Tony’s voice clips from the other end, “don’t hang up.”
After a long sigh, you wait, still saying nothing.
“Ok,” he sighs, too, “thank you. I just have a few things to say, and I’ll leave you alone.”
You sit up and place your feet on the rough carpet. Fancy hotels remind you of Steve. You made it all the way into a room at one place before freaking out, leaving, and finding close to, but not quite, the cheapest option you could find. You never thought you’d miss your mediocre apartment off of the HQ campus.
Tony finally accepts that you won’t be speaking to him. He’s used to having one-sided conversations. He’ll get over it.
“Romanoff will be over there in the morning with everything you need. Starts at 11. I’m hosting the reception after. It’s not here—” back on campus, you presume, since he clearly knows which room you are in within a building he doesn’t own and wouldn’t be caught dead in “—and if you wanted to speak, the priest is ready for that.”
Steve’s funeral. Tony Stark is talking to you about your husband’s fucking funeral. The fucking nightmare hasn’t fucking ended, and you can’t tell anyone how hollow you feel for not believing. You’re grieving but you’re not. It isn’t real. This cannot be real.
If the funeral is tomorrow then…you have been in this room for four days.
“Ok, so I don’t trust the menu of the room service there, and I’m ordering you some delivery. All I ask is that you open the door.”
He pauses, taking a few breaths to see if you’ll crack. “Fine, they’ll leave it at the door, but I think you should know that I can see if you bring it in. If you love and respect me, which is obviously extremely difficult to do—“ he fumbles and maybe puts his hand over whatever he’s speaking into “—Pep, I’m trying. Can you just—ok, yes—FINE. I am not threatening you to eat, but…”
His voice goes soft, paper-thin and wispy with a faint tinge of wetness. “Please eat. Cap will come back to haunt me if you don’t. Just please be ok.”
Your blood boils instantly. “Okay?! OKAY,Tony?!”
“Shit,” he yelps just before you slam the phone back down.
Tony just can’t help but poke the bear. He just is not capable of shutting the hell up. He’ll make decisions for you all day long. He’ll run circles around you and tell you you’re both exercising. He just can’t stop.
The loud ring explodes in the silence again. You could hang up on him a second time, since the first was remarkably satisfying in a way that only slapping Bucky has been recently, but you let it ring. You let the noise go and go until your eardrums ache like your heart.
Then it stops, and no one calls back.
* * *
Natasha arrives early. Really early. She seems to have guessed what state you’d be in when she arrived (and she didn’t need you to open the door, just walked right in before slipping some device down the side of her shoe). She drops a bag of uneaten food that was outside your door all night into the trash and places some boxes on the little desk in the corner.
This is the second time Nat has brought you a black dress. This is the second time you will wear said black dress in a hotel at some point. That is where the similarities end.
She coaxes you into the shower, talks you through the steps of shampooing, conditioning, washing your body, washing your face, drying off, and putting lotion on. She’s babying you from the other side of the bathroom door, but it’s also to keep you on pace. You’d be lost in memories of him and lose another four days if she didn’t.
She hands you panties and a bra, neither of which are yours, but they are clean and fit. You shouldn’t be surprised that a super spy would be able to find out your size, but you are.
Nat helps you into the dress, not because it’s tricky to put on, but because it’s the form of help she can offer. She zips you up, tugs at pieces here and there to get the garment seated just so, and then pulls out your necklace from beneath the neckline, smoothing the little, circular pendant with a bear down the bodice. Her smile is noticeably less convincing than Nat is capable of, but that seems…deliberate.
She moves a chair for you to sit. She dries your hair carefully before pinning it back. The style is classic and clean but reminds you of old-fashioned glamour. It reminds you of photos of Peggy Carter, though the comparison is a stretch, and you have to look away from the mirror.
Finally, Nat reallysmiles and opens the only remaining box.
She’s brought you donuts. She’s knows you love sweets. It’s maybe one of the very first things Steve ever knew about you, and they are fancy, covered in thick icing in cool designs. They smell warm even after all this primping.
It’s the strangest thing. The outrageous comfort this indulgence brings to you while it also breaks you into a million pieces. You’ve said a total of ten words to her this whole time, and then you eat donuts quietly with the Black Widow while tears stream down your face. Together, you kill a half-dozen easily, and Nat politely offers to have more brought up if you want.
You shake your head. She goes to refill your water and returns with two white pills in the other hand. You shake your head again. You hate taking pills. Steve would know not to offer them.
After finishing the water, Nat asks you to brush your teeth before she puts a touch of makeup on you. At least you don’t look like death warmed over when she’s finished. The best part, the part that will keep you separated from all this horror by the tiniest fraction, is the veil. It’s gossamer and reaches to your collarbone. It lays over and hides some of your perfectly styled hair, but you don’t care. It’s your shield today. Nat knows. You can tell that Nat understands what that means to you by just one shared look through the mirror.
Your mood makes it feel like torrential rain dampens the world around you, but it’s actually a partly cloudy day. It’s beautiful out. Steve would want to take a hike, to go sketch something pretty. Instead, you’re sitting in a folding chair with one leg sinking into soft grass, wobbling like Steve when he proposed.
The priest is just talking. You don’t care whether the words are comforting or dignified or even fucking English.
Natasha is seated beside you while your parents flank the other. She has not left your side since the hotel. Your mother puts her hand on your knee and squeezed who knows how many times while you compare every tiny detail to something about your life with Steve.
He comforted you at a funeral once, the same way, with a warm hand on your knee.
The wind flutters the veil, making the fabric stick to your wet cheek.
Bucky stands in military dress behind you. It’s not lost on you that the last time he wore such a uniform was you and Steve’s wedding, but he hands you a handkerchief from over your shoulder then sets his hand on you to steady the wobbling chair. Your staring at the photos they’ve printed and framed, propped on stands next to the prominently displayed shield. Steve would have appreciated that one of the photos is of him smiling. You think maybe Bucky or Tony had something to do with that. The other is a stalwart propaganda image of Cap with the cowl covering most of his head and face. That isn’t your husband; that man belonged to the nation, the world, the universe even. He was not yours. Somehow you feel a deep bitterness that the two images are side by side.
It’s the gun salute that jostles you back. You’re handed a flag that’s folded as neatly as Steve folded fitted bed sheets. The precision is pointless and stings to remember because you’ll never know how he did that now. Your hands are clasped so tightly in your lap that several fingers are numb, but you know they will shake if you try to relax them.
Bucky steps around from behind your chair to drop some dirt onto the lowered casket. You’re not even sure he’s in there since you refused to know anything about this whole charade. Because that’s what it feels like: a bad farse.
Time is lost on you.
Tony’s voice behind you asks the other mourners to leave without trying to speak to you. Bucky offers to take the flag from your lap, and you push it towards him without looking away from the hole in the ground. Nat doesn’t move from the chair beside you.
Just as the priest steps forward to say some more words of condolence you don’t care about, you’re up on your feet, heading straight for Cap’s shield mounted on a stand beside Cap’s photo, not Steve’s. Because they were different. Because Steve and Captain America may have been the same person, but only Steve Rogers could die. Cap cannot. The whole nation still has their symbol while you lose the only part of this whole damn thing that mattered to you.
One violently shaking hand reaches out to touch the cool, smooth metal. It’s so…thin. The whole façade is hollow, a vibranium illusion of strength and endurance. What good was the illusion? Who fucking cares about a symbol?
You move too quick to tell if the shaking continues. In one fluid motion, you grab one leg of the stand and topple the whole thing.
There’s a ruckus of shock behind you, where perhaps several people scramble to secure the shield that slides across the smooth blades of grass down a short slope, and why that small annoyance to others brings you a flicker of joy, you don’t know. It’s a drop of water in the magma of your anger.
So you walk away because that’s what you do when you’re upset. You walk. You can’t walk as fast as you would without these modest black heels Natasha stuck you in, but at least you’re moving. That’s what they all want, right? You’re supposed to move forward, to move on. Just the thought makes you furious. Your skin crawls with resistance to ever, ever forgetting because you will never forgive yourself if you do.
He’s gone. Steve’s gone. You can still hear the words as clearly as if Bucky repeated them now. The same kicking fury that pushed you to slap the bearer of bad news seizes your lungs and pulls.
For the first time, you scream, a crack of thunder so tortured that life halts around you. The birds stop. The bugs quiet. The mourners not yet gone freeze. Every single one. The second scream is wetter, hoarse, and full of devotion to your misery. The pain ripping through your throat starts the tears, but they don’t end with the physical pain.
Steve comforted you once at a funeral. You’d cried anyway. It’s only fair you fail to control yourself now. It’s only fair that if the world took the man you love that the world sees what it’s done. They don’t get composed. They don’t get serene. They don’t get poised. The world deserves the same turbulent destruction wracking your existence right now, but unlike your husband, you are not strong enough to force that on even one other soul.
When you open your eyes, Natasha and Bucky are there again, and your hands are already knotted tightly to their proffered arms. Nat soothingly repeats your name between simple statements.
“You don’t have to get up.”
“Take as long as you need.”
“We’re right here.”
There’s another uncontrollable surge that grips your lungs. The scream is broken up by shot-gun blast sobs and deep, choking breaths. There’s only one thought that comes to mind when Nat speaks to you.
“I can’t leave him,” you manage in a quiet, rough voice. “I can’t leave him.”
Your grip becomes hard and punishing, enough to make Natasha wince. Bucky’s metal forearm barely registers the pressure. He hands the folded flag over to Nat and slips the fingers of his now free hand between yours to release Nat.
“Never,” Bucky whispers.
He looks too flat. You want him to be wrecked. You want to see that you’re not alone in this pain, but the well-trained soldier remains inscrutable.
Some of them, these superheroes and experts within the Avengers, have the power to crack worlds and raise cities. They can force their will onto others. They can make people see what they want. You can’t do any of that. All you can do is lash out with your pain, and by god, you will wield your only weapon with a sharp a blade.
“You did this,” you spit in Bucky’s face. “This is your fault.”
His face turns stony, brow locked in a guilty v-shape, and that bastard nods at you. Bucky Barnes nods like it fixes something. He nods like acknowledging his failure after-the-fact helps you at all.
Your anger flairs, hurling fiery tentacles around like a kracken in your sea of sorrow, and your hands release him.
“Get away from me,” you hiss, steadying yourself to stand alone, because you are. You are alone. “I never want to see your face again.”
He’s just Barnes now, and as you turn, she’s just Romanoff. Your tie to the Avengers has been severed. You’re just as you were years ago, an employee on the fringes of their world, and it’s time to get back to work.
Summary: You’re a writer, too, but Steve has never pushed for you to share. It’s nerve-wracking as all hell, but you’re gonna show him. You’ve *got* to show him what you’ve been working on now. It’s time.
(This is gonna be split between two posts because I wasn’t expecting a few very small ideas to weave together into 5k+, but this half is basically all lovey fluff before a tooouch of smooooot in the next.)
Your hands are so clammy they stick to the pages still warm from the printer. The manuscript is sloppily bound; you didn’t feel this warranted a fancy seal. It could all go in the bin at any moment. If Steve for one tiny second doesn’t seem to approve, it’s game over. You’ll delete the whole file and burn all the copies…although currently, this is the only hard copy on the planet.
Gosh, you need to find a better phrase since you are now set to marry into an intergalactic band of heroes.
Only hard copy in existence. There. That’s more accurate.
You’ve chosen the day you and Steve officially move in together, into a new, bigger apartment on AvIn campus, to hopefully take some of the pressure off of this moment, this…present. Steve’s so over-the-moon about your new space—since you now have an extra bedroom that is the agreed ‘studio’ space for you both—plus a second bathroom and its own laundry. He’s gone off on several little shpeels about hating that someone else washes all of his clothes. Dry-cleaning and the tact suits, he understands, but his boxers? Steve doesn’t like handing that task off. It’s always made him uncomfortable. It makes him feel high and mighty. It makes him feel like Tony, though he’ll never be caught dead admitting that. So your fiance self-corrects to the point of hauling his own army duffel down to the laundry and chats up some staff while he uses a machine for himself wheneverhe possibly can. Once or twice he even brought his laundry over to your apartment, your old apartment now, to hang out with you during the cycles. It took a lot of effort to convince the man you’re gonna marry that he should maybelet you wash both of your things together when he isn’t around to do it himself.
Logic was a mighty weapon that day, but from Steve’s face, hell likely froze over in the process. He’s a stubborn git when he wants to be, and you love it. He loves you because you won’t let him be a stubborn git for too long. He gets to throw his ‘back in my day’ tantrum. He’s heard…and then you immediately offer him the logical option which was your choice in the first place. Everyone’s happy. When it doesn’t really matter, you let Steve win. Compromise is the name of the game.
You even compromised on what you consider is not pulling your weight when it comes to moving. Steve insisted he carry all the boxes himself, two by two, across the entire compound. His logic: it will be about the equivalent of his dozens of mile runs or the hours-long training he does regularly. It’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. He kissed your forehead as a warning. This was just one of those things he wasn’t going to budge on. You weren’t ever going to win this argument.
And so you took the time to print out this and hope for the best. Two hundred and seventy-eight pages weigh a fuckton, say nothing of the weight of their meaning. Your palms are sweating full-stop now.
Since your desk had to be driven from your off-campus apartment to the compound, it was one of the first things moved in. You set the beast of pulp down with a thud, leaving it to rest and cool off—or maybe just you need to rest and cool down—because Steve’s not back from his latest pickup from downstairs. Shame, but oh well, you’ll do it later.
The manuscript fits in the second drawer. You even put it face down, so it looks just like a stack of paper, not even Steve’s good drawing paper. He has no reason to look or to want it. It’s only going to be until you next see him, which might be seconds away. That thought makes your stomach swirl harshly.
Now to grab some lunch. He’ll be so proud you remembered to feed yourself without his prodding, especially because you aren’t sitting at work with a whole group of people who walk out to do just that every day. Compromise and growth. It’s a beautiful thing.
* * *
“D’ya’know, one of the perks of billionaire life is paying someone to do this for you,” Tony drawls with a click of his tongue slapped on the end for good measure. He doesn’t help, of course; he just leans against the door frame.
“Yeah, well, I’m not a billionaire, Tony.” Steve lifts the third-to-last box of books and papers (plus one surprise), the heaviest by far because you efficiently stuffed it full, a Tetris of bricks. Good thing he’s a super-soldier, or you would’ve had to unpack it and carry the same contents in four smaller bins.
“You and the misses are so cheap,” Stark chides.
Steve doesn’t even correct him. Tony has offered so many bad ideas for the wedding that Steve needs a single day without giving him ammunition. “We aren’t cheap. We’re thrifty. It’s a good quality to have. Maybe you could even try it sometime.”
“Ew—“ Tony wrinkles his nose as if he too saw what the empty fridge looked like this morning “—why.”
Steve snorts and pushes past the loving idiot in his way.
“When’s the housewarming party?” Tony calls after him.
If Steve could roll his eyes hard enough to shake the ground beneath Stark’s feet, he would, but alas, that kind of power eludes him. You two are only moving to a different floor, one with larger (and thus fewer) residentially suites. Instead of Steve’s original and perfectly adequate one-bedroom apartment, you’ll have three rooms and two and a half baths. You and Steve agree that it’s a bit excessive, even though you’ve been giddily chatting on how to use all the space several nights in a row, legs tangled together in bed as Steve called dibs on the smallest room to use as a studio.
You’d crossed your arms in a huff of fake irritation, shoving your naked breasts together in a ploy to distract him (in the dark because you know he can see that and it will get you what you want). “Fine, but then the other is an office or work storage. And that includes—“ you emphasized your point with a finger to his chest “—your suit, shield, and weapons. I don’t want them in the closet anymore.”
“Hmm,” Steve acted perplexed, using his Cap voice for a minute, “what if I say ‘no?’”
You cocked an eyebrow and shimmied your feet behind his calves. “That’s the hill you wanna die on?”
“No.“ He leaned forward and pushed your arm out of the way, hand sliding over your ribcage so his thumb could caress the soft swell of you. It’s his favorite. “But you’re very cute when you’re annoyed.”
“Oh, welcome, Captain Critical to my bedroom,” you teased.
“Our bedroom.” Steve’s arm wrapped around your back to pull you closer. He’d kissed you with a smile on his lips because he knows it makes you giggle. “Must be true love if I move the suits for ya, huh?”
Steve fondly recalls all of this while he waits for the elevator. These books are actually heavy enough that he doesn’t take the stairs.
You had then playfully smacked his arm.
“No, Sketch. Separate bathrooms is true love.”
He just smiled wider, hugged you a little closer, and ticked his nose up to nuzzle at your neck.
“That’s the saying, huh? Separate bathrooms make the heart grow fonder?”
He would have laughed if he weren’t thoroughly distracted by the pulse of your heartbeat against his lips. Suddenly, you didn’t have any more quips for him either.
The elevator dings, and there you are, smiling brightly as you see it’s him.
“I’m gonna get us some food. You’ve earned it, big buy,” you say with a wink, but Steve hears a nervous edge to it. Maybe you’re still concerned with how heavy the boxes are or how many trips back and forth he’s been taking, but since he’s almost finished before lunchtime, he doesn’t see the big deal.
So all he replies with is “sounds good.”
It does sound good. It sounds perfect because you’ll be out for a bit and he’s got that surprise to hang in the new place. Since he knows he can grab it now, he hurriedly drops off the heavy box and races to the stairs. He saved the surprise for last, but two boxes ahead of schedule will do just fine.
Only one other thing, he wants to write a little note, but everything is packed away. There might be paper floating around in your desk still. He’ll take a look when he gets back up.
* * *
It takes way longer than it should to drive out and pick up Indian. There’s traffic, a line, a substitution they needed to make when something suddenly ran out, but it’s fine. You are nowhere near as put out as the staff rushing around the packed restaurant (and you got a refill on mango lassi, so you can’t complain).
You ask Friday to swing open the door since your hands are full. It still smells like new apartment when you step in, and you passingly wonder if your first meal will christen the whole place with a homey aroma. If that’s the case, your mouth is going to water every time you come home, an impulse Steve will wildly approve of since it’s just another reminder he won’t have to give.
Steve isn’t visible from the entrance or the kitchen. You put the food on the counter and check to see if anything will need heating a little more before digging in, and then you see it.
A long rectangle wrapped in brown paper sits across the coffee table. It’s not a shape you recognize as one of the paintings you packed from downstairs, but it sits with the taped side up. Maybe Tony dropped it off? He loves to collect art. Well, Pepper loves to collect art, and Tony loves to ownart.
Your finger slices beneath a corner fold. Steve’s not really one for surprises—another reason you’re so worried about your little project—so he won’t mind if he’s not here for an unveiling of a gift. Where is he anyway? Only one of the huge book boxes is there sitting by the door, so he might still be—
Oh my god.
It’s…it’s…
It’s you. The whole thing is you, or you two rather. Nearly two feet tall and one foot wide, it’s a close-up of your favorite photo of you and Steve.
But this isn’t a photo. Steve has drawn you in painstaking detail, with vivid colors, and soft edges. His arms are wrapped around you from behind as he curls forward to kiss your cheek. Your head is lifted with a huge, toothy smile, open and laughing. Natasha took the original. You and Steve don’t really remember to take photos much, and there was one time, just one time, you joked that “it’s no big deal, he can sketch us anyway” in front of everyone. You’ve never seen him draw you, but you don’t ask because he wants things private until he shares them, like everything about you two and your relationship so far.
Butoh my god. You loved the original photo. You didn’t care that you didn’t have makeup on or that you wore one of his oversized sweaters. You didn’t care that your flesh rolled just a smidge between his tight arms across your middle. You didn’t care that your hair looked a bit lost because it was pulled back and out of frame. That was the photo.
This. This is you and Steve absolutely perfect. The tone of your hair is noticeably portrayed in a style you love, your skin is flawless, and he’s changed the sweater he wears to your favorite color. He hasn’t made it hyper-realistic. He didn’t simply copy over what he saw in the photograph. He interpreted what you adored about it with a few added bonuses. You look amazing. You look joyous. Most importantly, he’s captured how in love he looks by your side, enveloping you, feeding your body his heat on that brisk cold day.
You can feel that heat in your cheeks now.
“Steve,” you call out, unable to take your eyes off the art. His art. It’s already framed and everything. It’s like he knew you would want it up right here in the living room. “Steve!”
It’s odd he’d take so long to come back up—shit.
On your way to the door, you see him. He’s leaning on your desk because there’s no chair. You’ve ordered a new one, and it hasn’t arrived yet. In his hands, Steve is flipping through a document about three hundred pages thick. Your brain can’t even make up any option but the worst.
He found it. He found it with no explanation, no lead-in, no excuse.
“Sweetheart,” you huff in a rush to get over and take it back before too much damage is done. It’s not as perfect as his drawing of you; you know now that it’s not ready. Your sinuses seize and threaten to flood your vision while you beg to have it back, but Steve just holds out a long arm and easily keeps you at bay while he continues to read…
…about himself, about his life.
You’re not even sure what gibberish comes out of your mouth before he finally lifts a crystal clear gaze to you.
“What is this?”
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Please just put it down. I promise I’ll get rid of it if you—“
“Keeps,what is this?”
“Um, it’s,” and then you mumble a bit. His stern look tells you to try again. “It’s a…biography. Kinda. I wrote down every story you’ve ever told me. And then I…put in commentary about why it’s all important. How it all—“ a shaky breath ravages your tense system “—made you the man you are today.”
“Honey,” Steve starts with an inscrutable tone. You’re not sure what’s coming but your mind is on fire. “When did you start this?”
You giggle nervously, afraid to admit the truth, but he’ll know. Steve Rogers will know if you lie to him.
“The day…” you say quietly, “the same day you…when I sat on your couch for the first time. The day my hand was injured, again, well, the second time. I wrote down little descriptions of how you looked sketching, real you, not Captain you. I didn’t know what I’d do with it, but I knew even then that most people don’t get to see that. It just…snowballed from there.”
From where his finger sits in the stack, Steve’s already forty to fifty pages in. How long has he been in here? Jeez! He looks down at the manuscript and then back out toward the hall. He runs a broad hand over his face.
“So like a year,” he questions.
You nod and bite your lip.
“Dang, I—“ The sharp, slapping thud of paper on your desk startles you until you’re pulled into a huge hug. “I only spent three weeks on the picture.”
“Heh,” you cry-laugh. Your shoulders kick up to your ears even under the weight of Steve’s arms. “I’m an over-achiever.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh, but he’s more focused on tucking his arms beneath yours to lift you up. Your hands slide across his shoulders and bury your fingers in his hair. Steve hums between chuckles. You can feel his smile through your shirt at your collarbone.
His words are muffled in the fabric. “What’s it called?”
You quickly sweep away a few recklessly shedding tears and gasp in relief. “Ah, well, the working title—the one I’m leaning toward—is The Son of Joseph and Sarah.”
Steve stops laughing. He grips you tighter for a long moment.
It’s bright daylight. You both are fully clothed in a nearly furniture-less room. You aren’t even eye-to-eye, but neither of you has ever been so exposed to the other. From early on, Steve said he struggled to find the lines to capture you. You replied by saying you wanted the words to describe him. You’re both here now, at the finish line of your separate lives, at the start of your lives together, and you’ve done it: you’ve learned one another enough to show what you’ve seen. It’s beautiful. It’s flawed. It’s a long, long time in the making. It involves so many people and experiences you weren’t around for, but you understand.
You let Steve hold you as long as he wants, and after what feels like an eternity (which isn’t enough), he untucks his face and sniffs the air.
“Oh, wow, that smells good. I’m starving.”
You’d completely forgotten again. Good thing he’s around to remind you.
I can’t handle how sweet Steve would be in a relationship, guys. Like this literally haunts me at night–his cuteness, his support. Just dying, but really happy about it? Ugh, ok, happy Thursday everyone! Dignity get’s updated tomorrow…
Symbol, Part One (continued from Fools Rush In, see Masterlist)
Summary: You’re told your husband, Steve Rogers, has died while on a mission.
Warnings:aaaaaaangst, kinda violence, swearing? (sexual references, Minors DNI) [takes place approx. 2 yrs after you and Steve marry because it’s all out of order, sry, and I am purposefully playing with past/present tense here so hopefully it’s not distracting]
It’s odd, the complete fracture you feel in your mind, body, and soul when Bucky says it. He twitches but keeps eye contact.
“He’s gone,” Bucky croaks. “Steve’s gone.”
Your whole being turns to stone, and an atom bomb of effort goes into simply ticking your head back and forth a single millimeter. You almost laugh. Bucky can’t be serious. There’s no way.
Except his face is slack, not angry. Bucky would be fighting if there was even a chance Steve could be alive. He’d wage war on a galactic army. He wouldn’t be pitying you. He’d be promising you Steve’s safe return or justice. Instead, Bucky stands with wide, puppy dog eyes.
He’s sorry.
He’s fucking sorry?
Well, that’s not enough. That’s not fair.
And then Bucky tries to say it.
“I’m sor—“
CRACK!The force of your hand across his face ripples Bucky’s cheek, and the echo takes a long second to roll all the way down the otherwise empty lab. You worked late, not liking to go back home knowing Steve’s away. Because Steve is away. That’s all. Steve is just away.
Bucky looks less wounded than before you hit him. He looks resigned, like he deserved that (which he did), like he expects much more (which you might give), and finally, Bucky looks like it changes nothing. The only sense that slap knocked into anyone was the lasting sting across your palm.
You are screaming, but only on the inside because it is even harder to move now than it was to shift your head. Your soul is shaking as if an earthquake rattles the entire earth below you, but your body doesn’t even let you breathe. If you could still your heart, you just might because Steve is…
The fissure grows, a small chasm between two perfectly competing thoughts. Steve could be dead. Sure. No. Probably…not? There’s also Steve’s job. It’s a weird fucking job that includes all sorts of ridiculous dangers including faking death, but why would Bucky have to tell you the lie? Steve is your husband. Surely you can know? Then there’s the possibility that if Steve is really gone, and you behave like he’s totally alive and coming home any day, you will be considered insane, delusional, or irrational.
You are not irrational.
Yougasp because you stopped breathing.
The heaving inhale startles Bucky. He has a hand out toward you, hovering a few inches from your arm, but he pulls it back. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize he didn’t flinch at your violence; what shocked him was your sign of life. Bucky still looks guilty. He looks afraid of you or your reaction. He looks…devastated.
Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s real. And if it’s real and you’re wrong and Steve is gone…
“What am I supposed to do?”
Your eyes lock onto a blank space on the wall behind Bucky. Your husband’s best friend shifts in your periphery, not knowing what to do either. There’s a faint noise, a whine, a distraughtwhine, and you turn again, staring right into his grey eyes surrounded by red and sorrow.
You once told Steve that hugging was your superpower. Bucky stands there, curled inward but on display, a wounded animal. If anyone needs a hug, it’s him. His best friend is gone, and he was right there to watch.
But your husband is gone, and you were not there. Only Bucky was. Only one of you had even a chance to save Steve Rogers, and it wasn’t you.
You walk out of the lab without another word, leaving Bucky alone with what you can only hope is as great a shame as your bubbling anger.
* * *
You forgot yourself that first night. You walked right back to your apartment in the compound and just stood there, holding the door open, looking around at all this familiar stuff that Steve touched days ago. His sketches were still out on the coffee table with his pencil tin open beside them, his way of reminding himself to sharpen a few before putting them away again.
You curled up onto the couch that still smelled of him and pulled the tartan throw over you, the one that you had never, ever seen Captain Keeps-A-Neat-House fold before tossing it over the back cushion, not even after it was laundered. You slept. You forgot the news when you woke up, and systematically got ready for work and down to the lab.
The lab triggered it. Only one person was already there, and they watched you freeze in the middle of the room, stare up at a random spot on the wall, and walk right back out.
The media had it by midday, and you immediately turn off your phone. You and Steve don’t keep a television in the apartment, considering there are a whopping five-hundred and twelve monitors in this building alone, and you would have to turn on the radio.
You found yourself doing that a lot in the first days: switching back and forth in tenses when you spoke or thought. Everything happens like the murky, slow churn of an old-fashioned riverboat.
Old-fashioned. It hurt how much you were reminded of him, but somehow you became more upset with yourself when things didn’t remind you of him. Forgetting for one second was tantamount to wiping your life clean of him and spitting on his grave.
Oh god, his grave.
They’ve set the funeral for a week and three days after.
Pepper comes to your door, and for a heated flash, you think she’s come with agents to strip-mine Steve’s quarters for government property and potential memorabilia. If they touch his sketches, more people than just Steve will be dead. You growl in preparation before opening the door.
But no, Pepper quietly makes you tea and talks about details. The woman—bless her—finds a way to ask the most indelicate questions about logistics and event details so that all you have to do is nod, shake your head, or look up at her. God, she is good at her job, except you now realize you are being managed. Pepper is too soothing for it to matter much, though in the back of your mind, you resent your status as a prop to move around.
Your brain also starts a joke it won’t finish: Mrs. Stark and Mrs. Rogers sit on a couch planning a funeral. Whose is it?
You rub at the etched surface of your necklace absently before pressing it between your lips, staring at Steve’s pencils which still stare back from the table.
Pepper might be efficient, but with you, she is anything but cold. She can interpret any body language. She takes notes. Half a mug of tepid tea sits in your bundled hands by the time she wraps up your checklist. She’s setting up prepared meals to be delivered and stored in your freezer. You get a passing mental image of Scott Lang showing up with a homemade tofu casserole and silently thank Pepper for saving you the extra grief of refusal. Somehow, you don’t have the energy to ask how, she knows you don’t mind leftovers in the least.
You told him that in a hotel room once when Steve chose to let food sit because he would rather touch you than eat. There used to be times when he would rather touch you than breathe, or so it seemed.
A week before he died, Steve clung to you during sex, held you so closely, different than other times. His big hands wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you towards powerful thrusts. There was something so distinctly feral about his need for you that night. You relished it then but are haunted now. You’ll never have that again. It still doesn’t feel real.
All you can think about after Pepper leaves is Steve’s touch. You try to sleep instead. You cry instead. Hours later, your mind takes pity on you and suspends its punishing cycle.
In a haze of exhaustion and heartache, you can picture him. He’s in bed with you, gently sweeping dirty hair away from your tear-stained face. He smiles, big and bright, scooting forward with a hand floating down to the small of your back as he chats. You can’t hear the words. You’re just watching, excited by his excitement, and he leans to kiss you. He pulls you to him and with a laugh rolls you over onto his chest. His kiss is gentle before it deepens, the pressure of his fingers in your hair mounts with each flick of his tongue against yours.
Your brain doesn’t lie to the point of making you say you miss him because Steve hasn’t returned. Steve is dead, but with a bit of imagination, your fingers feel like his fingers. They can do what his did. You can imagine his clear and intense blue eyes obsessively taking in the sight of you coming apart before he drops to your chest for his favored, lingering kisses and love bites all across your neck and breasts. Picturing his body helps. Thinking of his soft hair in your hands helps, too. What breaks you, the thing that tips you over the edge, is his hum. It’s just a memory, but you can hear the musical, happy sound so vividly that your body shakes with it as you climax.
The cruel joke is that your brain mimics his voice.
“Can I keep you?”
But he can’t. He can’t keep you, and you can’t keep him because Steve Rogers is gone.
* * *
It’s day who-the-fuck-cares now, and you’re back to your marathon walks in the gym. You used to do that. It’s one of the reasons you grew close to Steve in the first place. You’d had a trauma and walked an unhealthy amount of time around this very track years ago. From that concerning surveillance footage, someone assigned you to a therapy meeting led by Captain Rogers. Then you were shocked and concerned about your sibling, Ro, coming out as enby, so you walked some more. Steve had walked right through these doors you keep passing, probably having been alerted that the Weird Walking Lady was back on the security screens, but then he gave you his number and asked you on a date.
You screamed more in excitement then than you’ve screamed in pain now. The thought sinks into your sorrow-dense bones, but you just keep walking.
They clearly watch you on all the video feeds because even though this is the employee track (and the Avengers have their own personal training area), someone is always there. It starts with Sam Wilson. He plays off what he’s doing the best, running laps casually while you wear noise-canceling headphones that aren’t playing music since your phone is off and sitting on the coffee table with sketches you won’t move. Sam either gets tired or has to go back to real work, but within seconds of him leaving, Natasha walks in. That’s the dead giveaway; Nat isn’t a fucking walker. Punching bag? Yes. Intense sparring? Absolutely. Intimidatingly lifting more than her own bodyweight? Hell yeah. Walking?Not on your fucking life (or Steve’s).
You openly glare at her for a beat, not moving your headphones or stopping, but she does it. Natasha walks just behind you for nearly ninety minutes before Bucky joins with a couple of water bottles in hand. He offers one to Nat as you both move towards him in your separate lanes, and then he holds the other out to you.
You swat it out of his hand and traipse right out the door he just came in.
Tony Stark is in the hall leading to your apartment as you approach. His arms are already up asking for forgiveness, but you can’t hear him and don’t care what he has to say.
“No,” you yell with a finger pointed at him, pushing him to back off enough so you can get in the door. Your back stays facing him until after the door is shut.
When you finally take off the headphones, F.R.I.D.A.Y chirps over a speaker.
“Mrs. Rogers, you have thirty messages awaiting review.”
“Do any of them mention Steve being alive?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then delete all of them.”
The AI reminds you of how watched you are, even in your own home—or what used to feel like a home—so you make a knee-jerk decision to pack a bag, grab your wallet, and leave. It’s not until the door of the hotel room clicks shut that you realize how thirsty and hungry you are. You pour water into the small cup from the bathroom tap and drain the glass seven times before splashing your face and walking back to the bed. Now, you’re too tired to order food.
At the bottom of your bag sits the very first thing you packed. Not a toothbrush. Not deodorant. Not face wash. It’s Steve cologne. You can’t fall asleep without smelling him, without being surrounded in some way by air that reminds you of his existence. It used to be a joke, that ‘second-best’ to the man himself was his shirt and a spritz of cologne, but the joke is on you now. That’s all you have left.
The amount you spray stings your nostrils. The scent should choke you at this potency. It can’t. All the smell can do is become thick and corporeal while it radiates from the pillows you stack on his side of the bed and hold like your life depends on it.
That’s because it does. Your life now depends on the memory of Steve Rogers.
Fav color: Green. Hands down. Like a forest/hunter green, but I own a lot of mint green stuff, too. (Not a fan of lime or much kelly green.) Emerald was one of my wedding colors.
Currently reading: shit, I should get back to that… Lots of fanfic for Steve/Reader—call it research or obsession, idk. I have Forward to the Foundation by Asimov at the foot of my bed, so let’s say that and an Agatha Christie are next.
Last song: Seasons (Waiting on You) by Future Islands
Last series: I’m rewatching Downton Abbey to go see the new movie with my mom this week. (Totally rewatched Defending Jacob last week and was an emotional wreck.) New? …uh…we are gonna start Obi-Wan tonight, I think…
Last movie: Strange and the Multiverse (in theater) *squeals for Wanda for eternity* and The First Avenger again for thots
Sweet/spicy/savory:Chocolate. All of it. White, ruby, milk, dark, WHATEVER. I will eat it. I even liked chocolate-covered potato chips, so clearly, if you put chocolate on it, I will eat that shit.
Currently working on: Fools Rush In, a Steve/Reader saga that no one asked for. It was supposed to be a one-shot (This All Day) and then die, but we are now at approximately 94k and counting. One day, I will return to my beloved Stark Legacy/Mistress Arsenal (Endgame AU), but Fools just won’t leave me alone until it’s all out…
Omg thank you so much for tagging me! I really love your work, so I’m kind of a fan
Also, sorry for the late reply, I gave my exam a few hours and then went out with my friends.
Favourite Colour: Blue. Like that dark night navy blue. But I also appreciate a good dark red (not maroon).
Currently Reading: I don’t read books BUT I love fanfics. I’m reading them all the time and was just reading Lizzygal’s (she is on AO3) Toxic series for IDK the hundredth time. It’s a Captain Hydra!Steve fic with several parts and it’s so well written. So, definitely worth checking out.
Last Song: Dancing Feet by Kygo and DNCE
Last Movie: Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (ngl Wanda scared me for a second but I love her )
Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Ok that is a really difficult question for an Indian and ugh I can’t choose but I will go with savory.
Currently working on: I don’t write, so can I say I’m preparing for practicals lol
Also, please don’t stop writing your Fools Rush In series. I’m in love with it
ERMERGERD LizzyGal’s Royal Scandal is addictive. King!Steve is bae.
thanks for playing!
feels like i should link to what/who we’re talking about so hereon Ao3
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader
Summary: You and Steve have been trying to have a baby for a year when finally those two little pink lines make an appearance.
Word Count: 1,526
Warnings: Fluff, Tears of Happiness, and some swearing
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
It had been a few days since you had found out you were indeed pregnant and since then Peter had not stopped hovering around you. Everywhere you went there he was, the only time he wasn’t with you was when you went to the restroom or when you went to bed.
Natasha and Wanda were more stubble about it, making sure when you all went down to train the only things you were doing were the punching bags and treadmill to an extent. And of course when they all spared to make sure no one cheated.
That was until of course Steve and Bucky had gotten back from their mission and the three of them then began to set up the plan.
It was a cold March morning when the two arrived back at the tower, their mission was a success without any casualties.
Of course, when the jet had landed you were the first one to greet the two men. Pulling your husband into a hug and then your friend glad both were safe.
The entire time you had a giant smile on your face excited about the news you were going to give, it took everything in you not to scream it from the rooftops as it is.
After the two were showered and changed they joined the rest of you in the common room to chill for a bit.
You had cuddled into Steve’s side on the loveseat while the others had thrown on a movie deciding to have a lazy day which you totally were up too.
Halfway through the movie, you were hit with the sudden craving of pickles and pizza. The thing with that was you didn’t just want regular old pickles you wanted pickles covered in peanut butter.
You ignored it for a few more minutes until you stood up making Steve look up at you as you did.
“ Where are you going doll?” He asked as you began to walk.
“ To get some grub, ” You replied before stepping over Tony’s outstretched legs.
Tony jerked his leg up a bit trying to make you stumble but Natasha’s glare made him put it back down.
“ Come on Female Rogers just because you’re married to an old man doesn’t mean you get a free pass to be slow, ” Tony said as you blocked his view from watching the action movie he had seen hundreds of times.
Your head snapped up and in his direction narrowing your eyes to the point they were slits.
“ What did you just say?” You asked glaring at the Billionaire.
Tony rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath, “ You’ve lost your hearing too, next thing you know we’ll have to get you a walker. ”
“ What the fuck did you just say to me Stark? No need to mumble were all open-minded and friendly. Go on, ” You said fuming at this point.
“ Y/n sit down I’ll get whatever you need, ” Peter said standing from his own chair.
“ No, I can get it myself, Peter, ” You snapped at him turning your glare to him as well.
He sat back down with a nod, “ Alright.”
With that, you walked out of the theatre room into the kitchen getting into the cheese pizza on the island, then moved to the refrigerator where the big pickles were, and then finally to the cabinets where the peanut butter was.
You let out a happy sigh as you gathered all of the items before walking back into the room. The movie was at a very tense scene so, like any pissed off female you knew would you slowly walked in front of Tony purposely.
As soon as Tony’s eyes landed on what you were carrying in your hands he let out a gag, “ What the hell are you eating and why those items together?”
You turned towards the man with narrowed eyes as he paused the movie allowing everyone to look at what you had concocted.
Everyone’s eyes widened and some wore faces of either amusement or disgust or even both.
“ Lady Y/n, ” Thor called cautiously looking at the items, “ Is that even edible?”
You turned your gaze to the Norse God before giving him a sweet smile, “ Yes Thor it is, don’t worry.”
“Yeah right, you’re going to end up with food poisoning Y/n! Just eat the pizza and have the spiderling take the pickles and peanut butter back.”
You turned towards Clint and narrowed your eyes as you had at Tony, “ Watch it Bird Shit or I will not hesitate to snap your arrows, before shoving them up your ass so far up you’ll be sneezing pieces of them for the rest of your God damn life.”
The group of Avengers looked at you in shock. You weren’t a violent person unless you were seriously ticked off or if someone was threatening your family.
This was completely out of character for you and no one had ever seen you this pissed off.
You let out a sigh before looking back at the archer, “ I’m sorry for snapping at you Clint.”
He gave a nod, “ It’s fine Y/n.”
You gave a nod and continued back to the couch where you were sitting and opened everything as the movie began again.
Snuggling back up into Steve you let out a sigh and began to eat your “snack” and before long you were out like a light.
Once the movie was over Steve gently lifted you up and walked out of the theatre room to the elevator then exited on your floor. As he stepped out he headed towards your bedroom and gently laid you on the bed, as he started to move away you grabbed his hand gently.
Sleepily you raised your head and looked at him, “ I have a present for you.”
He was confused for a second because it wasn’t his birthday or your anniversary but decided not to question it and sat down.
“ And my I acquire as to why I am being given a gift?” He asked with a smile moving a piece of hair out of your face.
“ Nope, ” You said popping the ‘p’ before getting up and moving towards your closet, grabbing the yellow bag that held his gift.
Sitting back down you handed him the little baggie that had a small sun on it that was smiling. Steve smiled at you then at the little bag before looking back up at you.
“ Well, what are you waiting for?” You asked him with an excited grin, “ Open it!”
That was all he needed before he gently removed the purple tissue paper setting it aside so it could be dealt with afterward.
Looking into the bag he let out a small gasp before his head shot up and his eyes met yours.
“ No.” He said his eyes wide as he looked from inside the bag to you then to your stomach.
“ Yes, pull them out.” You said nodding.
Still, in shock, Steve reached inside the bag and pulled out two sets of hand knitted baby booties one pink pair and one blue pair that had a note attached to it.
“ Read it!”
Steve nodded and gently pulled it from the booties before reading it out loud.
“You’re already a superhero and a good one at that but every superhero needs a sidekick no matter how small! Lucky for you in nine months yours will be arriving!”
His voice cracked at the end and he looked up at you his blue eyes shining with tears.
“ How far are you…?” He asked putting a hand on your stomach.
“ Banner says about two months, ” You replied watching as the tears finally began to fall from his lashes making you tear up as well.
“ I’m going to be a dad?” He asked his voice wavering.
“ Yes Steve, ” You said finally letting your tears loose as well, “You’re going to be a Dad finally.”
He let out a laugh and pulled you into a hug grinning ear to ear, “ I’m going to be a Dad!”
“ Shh!” You said looking at him, “ Only you, Banner, Nat, Peter, and Wanda know the rest don’t.”
“ Wait how do Peter, Natasha, and Wanda know?” He asked.
“ They were there when I found out, ” You explained watching as he nodded.
“ When are we going to tell the others?” Steve asked as he set the booties back into the bag and laid back with you.
“ Soon, I had a few ideas I think would be good…”
And so with that, you began to plan on how you were going to tell the rest of the team that you were having a baby.
Soon though you fell into a peaceful sleep dreaming about the little human you and Steve had created, and how excited you were about finally being a Mother.
You sat on the floor of your ensuite bathroom next to Natasha and Wanda who were on either side of you, holding your hands as you waited for five treacherous minutes to find out if you were pregnant.
You had missed your period twice already but it wasn’t uncommon for it to skip around due to your abilities and the experiments. But Bruce had made a pill that would stop that from happening.
It had only been two minutes and you were already freaking out, Wanda must’ve sensed that as she lightly squeezed your hand. You leaned your head against Natasha’s shoulder with tears in your eyes.
She looked down at you in concern, “ Hey now, What’s with the tears? We haven’t even found out if there’s a Little Rogers in there or not.”
You nodded your head as the tears fell down, “ I know but it’s just hard. We’ve been trying for the last year and each time it came back negative it was a stabbing pain in my chest. Each time the look on Steve’s face would become more heartbroken. It hurt knowing that I might not be able to give Steve a family.”
“ Hey it’s alright, Y/n, ” Wanda said as she squeezed your hand, “ You can always do other things if you can’t physically have the child.”
You nodded and wiped your eyes with your sleeves, “ Your right, it’s not the end of the world-”
The timer went off making the three of you jump and your eyes go wide.
“ I can’t look at it, Natasha you check!” You said nervously.
Natasha rolled her eyes at you, “ No, all three of us are going to get up and look at it together even though your darling husband should be here with you.”
You let out a laugh and nodded your head,“ Alright. We’ll do it together.”
The three of you stood up slowly and Wanda grabbed the test with her scarlet energy as you all moved to your bedroom.
The three of you sat on your side of the bed facing the window out on the skyline that showed the snowy March city.
“ Alright, we’re going to do this very slowly, okay?”
You nodded at Natasha and turned to Wanda, “ Alright Wanda flip it over.”
Before Wanda could flip it over Peter walked into the room, “ Hey Y/n I was wondering if we could- Oh sorry! I’ll leave.”
You shook your head at your younger brother and motioned for him to come in, “ Come on it but shut the door.”
“ Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to but- Are you sure?” Peter stuttered looking at the three of you.
He knew how big of a deal this was for you and Steve. And how you could get if it didn’t come back positive.
The first time it happened you thought for sure you were pregnant, you had all the symptoms and everything, until the test came back Negative, you had locked yourself in your room for a few days. That was until Steve finally convinced you to come out, and even then you were still shut off.
“ Of course Pete, come here so I can stop panicking about this, ” You said with a smile as he walked over and sat in front of you.
With a sigh, you nodded at Wanda, “ Alright, let us continue.”
Wanda nodded and slowly flipped the test over to where you could see it, and as it hit the light you let out a scream.
There on the small pregnancy test screen sat two bold pink lines.
Wanda let out a squeal of delight and Natasha let out a relieved laugh with a smile, while Peter sat frozen in the chair as you cried clutching the test in your hand.
“ I’m going to be an Uncle?” He asked shakily.
You looked at your brother with a happy smile and nodded your head tears still running down your face, “You’re going to be an Uncle.”
A smile broke out across Peter’s face and he jumped out of the chair tackling you into a hug.
“ I’m going to be an Uncle! Y/n! You’re going to be a Mother!” He said excitedly making the girls and you laugh.
“ Yes, Peter you’re going to be an Uncle, ” You said wiping your tears as the girls joined in on the hug.
“ Y/n you know what this means?” Natasha asked as the three pulled away from you.
“ That this child is going to be spoiled and so lucky to have this circus as a family?” You replied causing her to laugh and shake her head.
“ Yes and No. It means you and Steve are going to finally have the family you both deserve. I don’t know anyone else who deserves this more than you two do.”
“ Awe Nat you’re going make me cry again, and I really don’t want to cry again.”
The four of you sat there laughing for a few seconds before Wanda smiled at you.
“ You know… You still have to tell Steve and I think I have the perfect idea on how too.”
You let out a gasp of excitement, “ He’s going to be so excited!”
“ The whole team is going to be excited Y/n, ” Peter said as you let out a happy noise making them all look at you weirdly.
“ Shh, it’s my happy noise leave me alone, ” You said with a wide grin as they shook there heads.
“ Your kid is going to be so weird,” Natasha said as Peter and Wanda nodded in agreement.
“ No, they’ll be as unique as I am and as trouble making as Steve, ” You said letting out a laugh.
“ No doubt about that, ” Natasha said shaking her head.
“ So Wanda, ” You said turning towards the brunette, “ What was your idea?”
She gave you a smile before she began to tell the three of you her idea and once she had finally finished you all agreed it was perfect.
You don’t know where you stand with Steve Rogers. All you know is that he’s too good to be true and that must be bad. Right?
“You could do worse.”
You scoffed as you swung your arm in the hopes of landing a blow. “Do worse?”
“People are shitty. Steve isn’t like other people.” She ducked out of the way of your bound fist as you lashed out once more. Conversation did little to disrupt her focus on combat, though you were not surprised by that.
“What? He’s,” another strike, another miss, “he’s Steve.”
“Exactly my point.” As she spoke, Natasha dodged another hook from your right arm. In one fluid motion, she lunged forward and knocked your left shoulder with her open palm. Natasha’s lips turned up in the slightest smile of victory, but the heaviness in her knowing eyes filled your loss.
Panting slightly from exertion, you leaned back to catch your breath. Sweat dribbled down your forehead and you quietly thanked Tony for not installing a mirror wall in the training facility. You didn’t need to see your reflection to know you were red in the face and utterly disheveled. Wanda looked the same way only an hour ago and she had been too tired to stick around only to watch you fall into the same fate. You wished you had gone through the exercise first because, now, it was just you and Natasha; and the widow had sunk her fangs in.
“Normally, I’d advise against in-office romance but,” Natasha’s expression softened, “time’s short and the world could end tomorrow, right?”
In her voice you could feel the longing for Bruce. Only a month had passed since Sokovia and the team, scattered to the winds, was still trying to recover. A pang hit your chest at the thought, though it quickly passed as Nat tossed a water bottle in your direction. Instinct, conditioned by your new training regime, kicked into gear and you caught the bottle before it knocked against your shoulder.
“Nice. Reactions are getting better. Now, you just need to learn to land a hit.”
“You were distracting me,” you protested. Natasha shook her head and took a seat on the bench pressed against the cement wall.
“There will always be distractions,” a grin spread along her lips, “Steve being one of them.” Your face burned at the sound of his name. How she said it like a song singing of a cliche you had long since grown tired of. To keep yourself from snapping, you hit the inside of your cheek and took a seat beside Nat.
“He’s not a distraction.”
“Hmm, sure seemed like it. Unless you’re just that bad at hand-to-hand. I bet he’d help you practice.” You gave Nat a slidelong glare, but her grin only widened. A defeated sigh passed over your lips as you pressed your back against the wall.
“He’d be more than happy to,” you admitted, “because he’s too good. He’s too…”
“Right? Too emotional available?”
“Compared to you? The bar is low.”
At your dig at her, Natasha knocked her elbow into your side. “Hey.”
You ignored the half-playful warning in her tone and continued. “You’re the one that brought it up, but yeah. He’s too sound.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
Her question knocked the wind from your lungs. You took a sharp, quick breath and tried to find something to say. Was that a bad thing? For as long as you had known him, held affection for him, Steve Rogers had been steadfast. You had labeled it as a blind stubbornness, an American value that left you wary. But it wasn’t blind. Steve knew where the line was drawn, where his morals lied. What wasthe problem?
In the quiet that followed your search, Natasha turned her gaze on you. You met her eye but stayed speechless. In her parted lips and slightly widened eyes, you could see that she hadn’t meant to tear your resolve to shreds. Slowly, she reached a hand out to you and rested it on your shoulder in the lightest of touches.
“Are you-”
The doors to the training center opened with a whoosh of air. Your and Nat’s attention shifted towards the figures walking in. Sam and Steve broke from their conversation as they strode other. Suddenly self-conscious, you stood up from the bench and wiped at your still wrapped up hands against your thighs. You cursed yourself silently for the awkward movement before you looked up. Steve’s blue eyes were already on you, though he quickly looked away.
“Hey boys,” Natasha greeted, standing up beside you.
“Romanoff,” Steve glanced back at you, “Y/N.” His lips turned up slightly as your name left his lips. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting into a flood of embarrassed tears. He was trying not to laugh at you and that set your skin aflame.
“You two done dancing?” Sam asked with a wry smile. His teasing, and Natasha’s shift into an early, combat-ready stance, was enough to pull Steve’s eyes away from you.
“Depends,” she snapped, “you wanna go a round, see the two-step?”
Still, the damage was done. Not even the threat of Sam getting his ass handed to him by Nat could lift your spirits.
“As long as you let me lead,” Sam countered with a grin plastered across his face.
“Not a chance.”
“Alright, alright,” Steve raised a hand and interjected. “That’s enough now, no one is dancing. We have a regime.”
“No fun, Cap.”
“Yeah, I’m sure we could find you a partner,” Nat chimed in, glancing in your direction. Another shock of white-hot humiliation scorched along your skin.
Softly, you whispered, “I don’t dance.”
You meant to snap it, glare at your agile sparring partner and wholly ignore how Steve was watching you. You wanted to say something else, something that was witty, quick, and confident. But only that lonely, defeated, phrase fell from your lips before you fled the scene. As you moved towards the exit of the training center, face burning with embarrassment, you caught a glimpse of Steve’s face.
His brows were furrowed, heavy with a look of concern that made his eyes seem all the more deeper. In an attempt to keep yourself from drowning in them or let yourself get captured in this momentary passing, you forced your gaze down. Though, you were met with the sight of his lips, at first in a frown before they parted and almost mouthed what you thought was an apology. Before Steve could put his words to sound, you quickened your pace and darted out the door.
You did not slow as you made your way to your room. In time with your footfalls, your heart beat rapidly in your chest. All you saw in your mind’s eye was Steve, his eyes. You saw the moment you first met, so long ago now, and, more recently, his hands as he pulled you from the rubble of Sokovia. You weren’t sure which time, the day you met or the day he saved your life, you realized you were in love with Steve Rogers; but you had long since resigned yourself to ignoring it. He was too stubborn, too set in his ways. Steve was too good.
But was that a bad thing?
You spent your night trying to figure it out. Quietly, you paced around your room and cleaned small messes that barely constituted as messes all in the hope of feeling some sense of control. Control that you no longer felt you had over your feelings for Steve as Natasha’s question lingered in the back of your mind. Even when you exhausted all minor messes and yourself, you could not find rest. You tossed and turned under the covers, unable to push thoughts of Steve from you mind. How he looked at you! He saw it all on your face, read the room as soon as he and Sam entered it. Your burning face was evidence enough, you knew that much. And how you had left the room in such a hurry! Your stomach twisted with regret.
If you had stayed you could have recovered. You could have blamed the heat around you on the exercise, commented on how Nat was training you hard or how your regime was nothing like the dancing Sam had joked it was. Maybe, if you had stayed, you would have heard Steve laugh, watched him spar. Maybe you could have entertained Natasha’s pestering, proved her wrong; or proved her right.
The back and forth of your doubts made sleep impossible. Sweat beaded along your forehead, the backs of your thighs. With a huff, you kicked off the covers and savored the chill air that kissed your skin cool. Though, it was not enough to slow your thoughts. Defeated, tired, but too awake to rest, you threw our legs over the side of your bed. Your feet landed on the carpeted floor, tickled them before you started towards your bedroom door.
The Avengers Compound was never really quiet. Even as you crept down the hall, you heard the chirping, happy jingles of one of Wanda’s sit-coms. A dull light slipped through the crack of her bedroom door and, in the shadow that stretched along the hallway floor, you swore you saw two silhouettes sat before the television. Whoever was with Wanda, you were glad she wasn’t alone. Part of you considered knocking, joining in in the late-night traipse about old American TV; but then questions would be asked, the very questions you were trying to escape.
So, you stayed on your path to the main room and left Wanda, and whoever she was with, to the din of an old-timey theme song. The music followed you as you made your way to the end of the hall. Before you caught sight of the kitchenette, you heard the canned laughter of a ‘live studio audience’. The shift in sound hid the sound of another sleep-wary wanderer rooting through the cabinet. When you saw the figure, you jumped in surprise.
“Hey, sorry, I-”
While the voice was familiar, you reached and flicked the light switch on. As it flickered and exposed the face of the shadowy figure, you found your heart only beat faster.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Steve said, with his hands, one which held a bowl and another a spoon, raised. Of course it was Steve. It had to be Steve.
“N-No, you’re…it’s fine. I…”
“Couldn’t sleep?”
You nodded at Steve’s question, but did not dare to step closer. Instead, you pressed your shoulder against the entrance of the hallway, stayed half in the light of the kitchen and the other in the shadow. Unable to hold his gaze, your eyes fell from Steve’s to your fingers as you fiddled them together. The brushing of your knuckles did nothing to distract from the thundering beat of your heart. You silently hoped Steve’s sense were not enhanced enough to hear it.
“A harder regime.”
“What?” You glanced up only to find Steve was watching you. A faint smile played on his lips but, you imagined, it was a trick of the light.
“A harder regime will tire you out. You should talk to Nat about it, or you could join Sam and I. If you don’t mind bad bird jokes.”
A small laugh rumbled in your chest and up your throat before you could stop it. Quickly, you stifled it but Steve’s chuckle reached your ears, and the sound soothed over your worry. Your shoulders relaxed and you found yourself holding his gaze. Much to your surprise, you managed to find your voice. “So, you’re the one making them then?”
“You have to ask?” Steve shook his head. “I’m not known as the funny one ‘round here.”
“You have your moments.” How did he make thisfeel so easy? You barely had time to dwell on the thought, or your newfound confidence, before Steve’s smile blinded you. In that sweet look, Nat’s question rested heavy, with it’s full weight on your soul once more.
No, that smile was not a bad thing at all, but it made you feel too good, which made you feel bad.
You were waiting for some catch, the hook for you to get caught on, but no such jab came. It was only Steve’s smile and the slightest tint of pink that rose to his cheeks when he finally let his eyes fall away. He had set his bowl and spoon on the counter but had not touched them since. Instead, he braced himself against the polished granite, his arms tense and muscles bulging from under his grey sleep shirt. You had never seen him look so soft before, or maybe you were only noticing now. Just as you let your eyes trail along his thick shoulders, a laugh track played softly in the distance and brought Steve’s eyes back towards the hallway.
He caught you staring and a brush fire of embarrassment blazed through your body. Immediately, you dropped your gaze to the floor and feigned interest in the tile.
“It’s cute when you do that,” Steve said, numbing you with pure, unadulterated shock. Wide-eyed, slightly confused, you looked up. He was still smiling. “When you get all shy.”
“I-I don’t…”
“Dance? I bet you could.” The teasing jilt in his voice had you melting. The tension, while lingering, alleviated and the air was easy to breathe again.
“Not the two-step,” you joked back, though, the confidence you felt only moments before was wavering. “And it’s not shyness. It’s a…a nervousness.”
“You’re nervous around me?” Steve straightened, no longer did he lean against the counter and his eyes, something had shifted. His brows furrowed and you were suddenly reminded of his face as you fled from the training room earlier that day.
“No,” you said quickly, too quickly. “I’m just wary, is all.”
Quietly, Steve padded over towards where you lingered in the hallway. As he found his spot before stood you, Wanda’s sit-com seemed to roll it’s end credits as gentle music played in the dark distance. Though, you were caught up in Steve’s newfound closeness and the beat of your own heart to pay much mind to the tune.
“Wary like you can’t trust me?” With his question, Steve extended his hand to you. It took all you had to keep your breathing steady. Slowly, you shook your head.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Think so?” His hand was still held out, waiting for something. For you, you realized as you eyes flickered from Steve’s open palm and back to his eyes. In the hallway shadows, the blue of his irises looked nearer to black than the bright skies you often found yourself comparing them to. “You don’t sound too certain.”
“I trust you, as my Captain.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’,” Steve said softly, his voice suddenly lower, “am I right?”
The question felt more like a challenge. Though, perhaps, it was because you were tired of questions. Tired of being asked what was bad and what was good. All you felt in that moment was the want to feel how Steve’s hand felt against yours. So, you closed the gap.
You did not reply, only took Steve’s extended hand and waited for him to guide you to the next step. His smile renewed as he pressed forward, his other hand finding a spot slightly above your hip. With this new posture, a grin broke out along your lips.
“Dancing?”
“Do you trust me?” In his question, you heard an echoing of Natasha’s. Was this a bad thing? You felt you were ready to find out.
Timidly, you reached up and rested your free hand on his shoulder. You straightened you back and, summoning all your courage, you met Steve’s eyes. “Let’s see.”
He smiled at you reply before he wordlessly began to sway, guiding you slowly around the counter in the kitchenette. Soft, dulled by the distance, the theme music emanating from Wanda’s bedroom served as your and Steve’s soundtrack. You knew then that the dance would only last for so long and felt an ache form in your chest. It spread from your heart to your arms, where it weighed them down, and then to your legs, the sore muscles there that begged for rest. Even your eyelids grew heavy and, before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward to lay your head against Steve’s chest.
The doubts and questions that had swirled about your head for most of the day fell away. In the peace you found your answer.
“Yes.”
Yes, you trusted Steve and loving him would be the worse thing because of the fear of losing him. Yet, as you danced, you did not feel that fear. Only the steadiness of your answer and the steadiness of his heart beating in his chest.
The final battle against Thanos left you broken and numb. You find comfort in Steve’s arms.
Warnings: mentions of violence and death, kind of angsty
Word Count: 4.1 k
A/N: This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written, ever, so I just hope it doesn’t suck lol.
The sky was a deep purple, and grey clouds loomed, so big they never seemed to end. The ground looked alien, barren and bare.
Dead, you thought. This was what a dead earth would look like.
And yet, you had never felt so alive.
You were running, fighting off Thanos’ alien army with your sword. The strange creatures ambushed you, barrelled towards you with foaming mouths and bloodshot eyes, yet you fought them off with ease. You didn’t even need to think, years of training had turned you into a skilled warrior. Fighting came as easy to you as breathing.
And besides, you had just been dead for five years. Your body was screaming, begging to be moved again, to feel the pure adrenaline of battle. As you lunged and swung your sword, you were aware of the thrum of your accelerated heart, and the power that coursed through your blood.
Finally, you thought. I’m back.
When you had first woken up in Wakanda, you had been confused. Your body ached and your mouth was dry. The last thing you had remembered was Thanos snapping his fingers, Thor’s axe still lodged in his chest, and then you were falling to the ground and everything went dark.
Yet, here you were now, warm ground beneath your fingers.
You weren’t alone. Around you, you saw Sam, Bucky, Wanda and others, all just as confused as you. Huddled together, you spoke.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does anybody remember anything… after the snap, I mean?”
“No. Just… darkness.”
“Why are we here? Where’s everybody else?”
“Steve, he was right in front of me, I remember. He should be here…”
It went on like this, a hurry of confused voices and answerless questions, for a while. You were uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. Your closest teammates, Nat, Steve, even Thor… they seemed to have just disappeared.
And then, a ring of electric gold appeared out of nowhere, and out stepped a stranger. A man with dark hair and a sharp beard, wearing a red cape.
“Are you… the Avengers?” he asked, looking each of you in the eye.
Wanda hesitated, Bucky looked at the ground. Even T’Challa seemed unsure of what to say.
The man had an unmistakable air of arrogance, and yet, he seemed trustworthy. Even familiar. He stood there, waiting for an answer, until finally you stood up, flicked your hair back and wiped your uniform off.
“Yes,” you said. “We are.”
A smile lit up the man’s face. “I was hoping you’d say that. Well, hurry up, all of you. We have a battle to win.”
And now, here you were, surrounded by more heroes than you had ever thought possible. People and beings from all the corners of the universe, hundreds of them, all fighting alongside you against the mad titan. You still weren’t quite sure what had happened, if you were being honest. Nobody had really taken the time to explain. All you knew was that the fight against Thanos wasn’t over yet.
You plunged your sword into an alien’s shoulder and it’s hot blood splattered your face. The smell and taste of metal overwhelmed you. Next to you, two members of the Dora Milajae twirled and stabbed at the creatures with their spears. A pegasus carrying a warrior woman flew overhead. Sounds of gunfire filled the air, and you knew that Bucky would undoubtedly be responsible.
Perhaps Nat is shooting as well, you thought with a smile.
You were yet to spot your best-friend, but you couldn’t wait to find her after the battle. To hug her and talk for hours. And, of course, there was a lot you needed to talk about.
But first, you needed to win.
THREE DAYS LATER
Agony. One word. One word to sum up everything you had been feeling for the last few days.
The final battle had seen you victorious, but it hadn’t been without a price. Hundreds had lost their lives.
And, of course, there was Tony.
Tony, who had sacrificed himself for the rest of the world.
It wasn’t right. It certainly wasn’t fair. If the universe demanded a sacrifice, you were more than happy to volunteer. You didn’t have a family, you didn’t have thousands who looked up to you and loved you. Tony did.
After he died, it seemed like the last strings that were holding up the universe collapsed. Everything was chaos.
Some people were screaming, crying over Tony or others they had lost in battle, or both. Other people were confused, desperately seeking answers to what had happened and how long they had been gone for.
As it turned out, returning half of all life on Earth was even more chaotic than eliminating it.
You just wanted to see your team. You felt like you were floating, untethered, and the only thing that could bring you back down was seeing and talking to your closest friends.
Suddenly, somebody was touching you. You looked up, up into familiar sea-blue eyes. Steve.
“Y/N,” he breathed, enveloping you into a hug. “God, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you. How much we’ve missed you.”
You didn’t know how to respond. Silent tears fell down your face, forging paths amongst the dirt that had settled on your cheeks.
“Steve…” You whispered, clutching onto his shoulders. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s happened or… or where I’ve been and now, T-tony… he’s dead and-”
Steve met your eyes, and you saw that he was crying, too.
Something wasn’t right. You could feel it.
All of the team was here, all around Tony, all except one.
“Steve, where’s Nat?” You whispered.
He didn’t answer. Worry settled deep within your stomach. You felt sick.
“Please, Steve…” You looked up at him, a fresh wave of hot tears burning at your eyes. “Please don’t tell me she’s gone.”
But he couldn’t meet your eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N…” He choked out.
But you already knew. Of course you knew.
After that, everything was a blur. Someone grabbed your hand. You were led into a car, driven somewhere you didn’t know. You blinked and suddenly you were in a strange room, one that smelled of wildflowers and cinnamon. There was a bed and the sheets were clean and you were dirty, so incredibly dirty, but you didn’t care. You collapsed and screamed, screamed until there was no more air left in your lungs and your throat was red raw.
You stayed like that for the next two days, lying on top of the bed, the pillow soaked with tears. People would knock on the door, call out to you, tell you to come down for food… but you didn’t answer. While it was still day, you would stare at the walls and try not to think about anything. It wasn’t until the sun went down and your room went dark that you would let the thoughts wash over you and the tears fall freely.
Tony. The smartest guy you had ever met. The man who had offered you a home, who had accepted you immediately as part of the team, despite your past. The man who would give you big bear hugs and never said anything bad about you, ever.
You cried for him.
But Nat, you didn’t just cry for Nat… you sobbed until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Natasha. The woman who could bring down a man with nothing but her hands. The woman who never knew her family. And yet… she had the biggest heart of anyone you knew. You remembered the nights you would spend together, just the two of you, sitting on her bed and talking for hours about stupid things. You remembered her laugh and the dirty jokes she’d whisper into your ear during meetings, and the nights you spent choosing each other’s outfits for Tony’s parties. She was your best friend in the entire world, the only person you felt comfortable telling anything too… and she was dead.
On the third day, when you awoke to sunlight pouring in from the window, you decided to get up. Your mind and body desperately wanted you to stay in bed, but you knew you couldn’t.
You are strong, you told yourself. You’re an Avenger, remember? You’ve done far harder things than get out of bed.
Your anger and denial had finally subsided. Now, you were just numb.
You stripped yourself of your uniform and stepped into the warm water of the shower. Dirt and dried blood ran off your body in streams. You lathered yourself in body wash, ran hands coated in shampoo through your hair. By the time you stepped out, you smelt like raspberries and vanilla.
God, you were hungry.
It was then that you remembered you had no idea where you were.
Would it be rude if you snuck out and raided the kitchen of whosever house this was?
Sudden knocking stopped your train of thought.
You hurriedly wrapped yourself in a robe, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
The man in front of you was not the Thor you remembered.
His hair was long and matted, and he had a beard, one that nearly reached his chest. And his previous muscular figure, one he had taken so much pride in, was now softened by fat. His stomach threatened to peek out from underneath his shirt.
Grief, you realised, had affected everybody differently.
“Y/N,” he exclaimed, surprised, “I didn’t think you’d answer. Steve has been trying to get you out of there for ages. Did you not hear him knocking?”
You weren’t sure how to answer, what excuse to give for locking yourself away. Instead, you just hugged him. Surprised, he wrapped his big arms around you.
“Well,” he chuckled, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Sorry. I just realised I haven’t seen you in ages. And I… I missed you.”
Thor smiled. “I missed you too, Y/N.”
You were at Tony’s house. After the snap, he and Pepper had moved into a small cabin, away from the city. They had gotten married in secret, exchanged vows in front of the lake with nothing but the fireflies as witness. And then, Pepper had given birth to a baby girl.
Steve explained all of this to you. You sat next to him on the leather sofa in the lounge room, wrapped in a blanket. He had been ecstatic when he saw you, fresh and clean and out of your room. He had even offered to cook you breakfast. You picked at it now, french toast with syrup and berries, as he told you about everything you had missed over the last five years. He told you about the chaos after the snap, the aeroplanes that had fallen out of the sky, the people who had disappeared from thin air.
Then, about how they had killed Thanos for revenge.
But it wasn’t enough, he said. Killing him didn’t bring back everyone who was gone.
And so, he told you about time travel. About how Tony had figured out how to do it, and how they had each gone to different corners of the universe in search of the Infinity Stones. He told you about Nat, and how she had been the only thing keeping the Avengers together after the snap. He explained how she had chosen to sacrifice herself on Vormir for the soul stone.
Without her, he said, none of this could’ve happened. She was the real hero.
You didn’t have to say anything. He already knew you agreed.
You spent the rest of the day helping around the house. Unbeknownst to you, everyone had been staying at the cabin for the funeral, which was tomorrow. However, nobody else had been afforded the luxury of a bed to themselves like you had. Steve and Bucky were sharing the only guest room. Wanda was sleeping on a mattress in Pepper’s room. Bruce, in his now permanent Hulk state (you were still yet to get used to that), was left to sleep on the couch. And there were still more people outside, sleeping in tents. You felt like a proper bitch for taking a room up all to yourself. The fact that these people had probably heard you screaming and crying for the last two nights straight made you blush and drop your head in shame. Here was Pepper, who had lost the love of her life and father of her child, and yet she still found the strength to keep it together and host a group of superheroes. You wanted to make it up to her, which was why you were currently sweeping the floor and keeping a careful eye on the legs of meat roasting in the oven.
“Rest.” You had told her after you finished breakfast. “I’ll care of everything today.”
And Pepper had squeezed your hands and smiled, her eyes shiny with tears. A silent thank you.
The next day was the funeral. There were so many people, people who had loved and cared about Tony, all watching as his body was put to rest. As you stood next to Steve and watched the sunlight glint off the lake, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being broken and out of place. The black dress Pepper had let you borrow hung awkwardly on your body.
Just another reminder of how wrong this whole situation was.
Suddenly, Morgan, Tony’s daughter, began crying. Heartbreaking sobs that shook her tiny body. That was too much for you. You had to turn away.
Afterwards, people returned back to their lives. Everyone who had a home and a family went back to them. Thor went off with the Guardians. Going on an adventure across the universe was just what he needed, he told you as you said your goodbyes.
That left you, Steve, Bruce and Wanda. You had all lived in the Avengers compound, but that was destroyed. Where were you to go now?
Of course, Pepper said you were all welcome to stay longer. But you all knew she needed time to mourn alone with her daughter, without the Hulk sleeping on her couch. You kindly turned her down. She looked relieved.
Behind you, T’Challa cleared his throat.
“Wakanda has more than enough room for a group of heroes. You will all fly over with me. We can accommodate you for as long as you need.”
And so, it was settled.
The days in Wakanda were long and warm. You would busy yourself by helping out in the kitchens, or visiting Shuri in her lab. Sometimes you would just climb a tree and watch farmer children chase each other around the fields. Your arms became tanned, your hair got lighter. You relished in being at peace. The days were good.
But at night, dark thoughts still found their way to you.
You would have nightmares, visions of Nat being thrown off cliffs or ripped apart by alien creatures. One night you dreamt of you two painting each other’s nails like you used to. But when she opened her mouth to speak, thick, dark blood spilt out. You would wake up screaming, tears streaming down your cheeks and nails digging into your palms.
It was killing you, slowly.
Steve began to notice.
He noticed how you didn’t meet his eyes when he spoke to you. How your nose no longer crinkled up when you smiled, how your laugh was no longer as loud or long as it used to be.
He began to ask you if you were alright. It killed you to lie to him, but you had never been good at talking about your feelings. And you didn’t want to burden Steve with any of it. He had finally begun to look happy. Wakanda suited him. He spent most of his time talking with Bucky, and you could tell how much he had missed him. He didn’t deserve to have to worry about you.
And so, you didn’t tell him.
But one night, he found out anyway.
It was another nightmare. This one was particularly violent. The last thing you remember was Nat’s deep red curls, and then a splatter of blood, and then you were up and screaming. Screaming at the top of your voice for someone, anyone to help you.
Somehow, Steve heard you. He ran into your room so fast the door nearly fell off its hinges.
“Y/N,” he yelled, grabbing you by the shoulders, “what’s happening? Are you alright?”
You were still in shock, your mind couldn’t form the words to express what you were feeling. So you sat there, crying hysterically, as Steve wrapped you in his arms. You could feel how soft his cotton shirt was against your skin. And he was warm, so warm. Slowly, you began to calm down.
“It’s okay, I was just having a nightmare-”
“No,” Steve cut you off, “Nightmare or not, you are not okay. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”
“I-I’ve just…” You began, but honestly, you had no idea what to say. He was right, you weren’t okay. You hadn’t been okay for a long time.
“Y/N, I want to tell you something. You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to listen, okay?”
You nodded, glad to have an excuse not to speak. Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulder and drew you in closer to him.
“Those five years, after the snap… they were hell. Everybody was miserable. People would just break down, in the middle of the streets, crying…”
Tears started to build in Steve’s eyes. You reached up a hesitant hand and wiped them away. He didn’t seem to mind.
“The Avengers… I don’t even know if you’d call us that. It was just me, Nat and Rhodey at that point. Bruce was always hidden away in his lab. Us three, we tried to help out as much as we could. But we just felt so, useless. Like we had failed. Because we had.”
“Steve, don’t say that…”
“Shh,” he whispered, bringing a finger to your lips, “You said you’d listen, remember?”
A tiny smile played at your lips. You nodded and let him continue.
“Anyway, we all felt like we’d failed. I remember one night, everyone was feeling particularly bad. Nat and I decided to open up one of the wine bottles from Tony’s cellar. We took turns sipping from it. I couldn’t get drunk, but she definitely was.”
Your eyes widened slightly. Where was this going?
“We began talking about the snap and about how screwed up everything was. Then, she began talking about you. About how much she missed you. And she was crying. I’ve never seen Nat cry.”
You could feel the tears start brimming at your eyes.
“And then she asks me, what did I miss most? Who would I bring back, if I could bring back anybody? And do you know who I said?”
“Bucky?” You guessed, looking up at Steve.
“No.” He replied. “Y/N, it was you.”
You couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving your lips. You and Steve had always been close, but you had never thought you meant this much to him. As he opened his mouth to continue speaking, a stream of tears escaped from his eyes.
“And I meant it, Y/N. I missed you so much. God, it was killing me. Tony was gone, Sam was gone, Buck was gone… but all I wanted, out of everything in the world, was to hear your laugh again. I would’ve given anything to see you perched on the kitchen counter, drinking coffee in your pyjamas like you always would. Or even just to hear your music blasting from your room again.”
Now both of you were crying. You wrapped your arms around Steve’s body, buried your face into his chest. Your tears were soaking his shirt but you didn’t care.
“Y/N, I’m telling you all this because I want you to know, that on that night, me and Nat both sat on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, and we cried and we talked about how much we missed you. You, nobody else. I know how close you were with her. I know that I can’t even begin to understand how much pain you’re going through right now… But I want you to know that I miss her too. And you’re not alone. You don’t have to be alone.”
Your face was wet, your cheeks slick with tears. “Steve I-”
“Wait,” he interrupted, brushing your hair behind your ear, “There’s just one more thing.”
“Okay.”
“When I went back in time, back to 2012 to get the stone… I saw you. It was your past self, obviously, but it was still you. You were standing with the rest of the team, threatening Loki with your sword, and you had your hair how you used to wear it, remember?”
You gave a small laugh.
“God, Y/N, you have no idea how much I just wanted to reach out and touch you. To run my hands through your hair and feel you in my arms again. You were right there. And that’s when I realised. I realised something, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”
You inhaled sharply. Steve looked down at your face. You looked into his sea-blue eyes and noticed how his long lashes were still damp from tears.
“Y/N,” he whispered, “I love you.”
Your world came apart again. But it was different, different to when you found out Nat was dead. Because this time, it felt good. Everything felt so, gloriously good.
Of course, you thought. This is right. This is how it’s supposed to be.
Steve. America’s golden boy. The man who made you laugh no matter how grumpy you were, who would wake up at 6am just to make you breakfast. The man who would sketch you as you watched movies, who was able to replicate the most intricate details of your face perfectly on paper.
He loved you.
“Steve,” you whispered back, not looking away from his eyes, “I love you, too.”
You loved him. Of course.
It wasn’t just easy all of a sudden. A switch didn’t go off in your brain, your nightmares didn’t automatically stop. But, with Steve, things were more… bearable. On the nights when it got really bad, you would wake him up, and you two would both talk about her, about your favourite memories. His story about them being undercover and having to kiss always made you laugh. Which is why he loved telling it.
Some nights, you would even talk about Tony.
The warm days in Wakanda stretched into weeks and months. You made a sort of makeshift home in the African country. Sometimes, you were invited to speak at one of the schools, and then you would tell the kids about the Avengers. About the God of Thunder, who was the prince of a palace amongst the stars and held the power of lightning within his fingertips. About Hawkeye, a man who could hit any target, no matter how small, and who loved his family more than anything. About Captain America, the man who fought off Nazi’s and won, who believed in justice and equality and who never ran away from a fight, no matter how much the odds were stacked against him. About the Hulk, a green, gigantic monster who looked scary but was really the smartest, kindest man in the world. About Iron Man, the genius who could build something from anything, and who gave his life for the rest of the world. And, finally, you would tell them about the Black Widow. The best spy in the world, a girl who could kick ass and look good doing it. A girl who was raised to be a villain and who became a hero anyway. Your best friend.
The Avengers weren’t gone forever. There were new heroes ready to take on the name. Captain Marvel, Spider-Man, Dr Strange (you had finally learnt what that strange man’s name was). But for you, and for the rest of the original Avengers, your days of kicking ass and saving the world were over. But it was okay, because you had Steve, and you were going to start a new life together, one where you could sleep in each morning and didn’t have to worry about becoming a war criminal overnight. For the first time in both of your lives, you could be at peace.
And, like the kids you taught in Wakanda, the rest of the world was always going to remember you.
